Special Birthday Wishes for TJ

Friend of the site Hilary reminded us today that it is one of the most special days of the year, not only because I had scrambled eggs for breakfast instead of my usual yogurt/splenda/tears concoction. It's Thomas Jefferson's birthday! You may or may not be familiar with our feelings here at MG about TJ (pronounced Teej), but if you are not, let me explain: We f-ing love him, and though we'll be the first to acknowledge his faults (had an affair with his slave Sally Hemmings, had slaves), we'll defend him until the end (she was his beloved dead wife's half sister ok, the situation was COMPLICATED) as a great thinker, scientist (love that copying machine!), architect, President, and all around cool bro. Happy birthday TJ, why today is not a national holiday is blowing our minds.

Nostalgia for Disappearing Knowledge: Part one of a series

I generally embrace the relaxed dress code of today's American society. I think it's swell that people are free to explore the frontiers of fashion and the limits of how tight pants can be in order to express themselves. I like not getting laughed at (to my face) by anyone for the clothes I wear. But as an ardent nostalgaist and a dabbling sartorialist, I sometimes wish for times of stricter dress codes. The times when dinner jackets were worn to dinner, hunting jackets for hunting, smoking jackets for smoking, and morning jackets for riding horses.

This does not mean I wish everybody looked the same. Individuality still exists, just in a less obvious way. Wearing an ironic t-shirt that nobody has is one way to show everyone how cool you are. But I'd rather be in olden times and wear the same fedora everyone else wore except fold the brim low and cock it to the side. If everyone is wearing a tuxedo subtle differences make things cool or not. So many decisions to make. Peaked lapels or notched? Shawl collar or wing collar?

This piece originated as a flash in my brain that said "what's up with all these different kinds of Jackets? Let's write a history of Jackets." That I would have to undergo historical research tells enough. These conventions are not widely known. College libraries and academic databases don't even know. I resorted GQ for background information. It almost makes me sad that this kind of information is disappearing. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to research nineteenth century sailing terminology.

Caption Contest

What is going on in this picture?

Other Considered Titles for The Wasteland

Eliot on the set of Batman

1. The Garbage Can
2. Why is Everyone Such a Lamesauce Except for Me?
3. The Extraplace
4. The Waistland
5. The Princess Diaries

Today in History

The north beat the south at the battle of Shiloh in 1862. Ulysses S Grant got to take Shiloh home, and she was the prettiest baby the world had ever seen.

Love or Confusion?

How could anybody not love him?!!?!? Oh I will tell you how.


Guys, I am really stressed out. Like more than when my Valentines day didn't exist because of a difference in opinion over whether our Valentines day should exist. What do you do when you think someone is so awesome and then it turns out they hate the stuff you like? Do you just say goodbye? Do you try to work out the differences, accepting that different people have different tastes? At what point does a difference in opinion mean more than taste, and signify a completely different outlook on life?

Point being, I'm reading Boswell's Life of Johnson (sidenote: that book is f-ing heavy), and I love Dr Johnson so much, but he doesn't like Hume or Swift, and I'm really stressed out about this. I can get over the fact that apparently Dr. Johnson was really fat, and he ate like a beast and would just shovel food down his throat without talking and his veins bulged, and I can even look past our differences in religion. But hating Hume and just thinking Swift is not funny is too much.

If you have any suggestion for how to get over this moral crisis I am currently experiencing, please help me.

Note: I wrote this before reading this, which is about a similar topic and quotes a really good family friend.

Friend of the Site Thursday (Friday): Birth/Worth of a Nation

Betsy Ross, moments before going into labor.


This is Drew. Here's something he wrote.






Any scholar knows that the birth of a nation draws many parallels to the birth of a child. Let me extrapolate. The colonies of the New World were a part of the English Empire, just as a fetus is a part of its mother. That would make the settlement of Jamestown the moment of conception. However, England tried to "impregnate" the New World previously, so I guess that would make Roanoke Island some girl who totally freaked out and thought she was pregnant even though she actually wasn't. In truth, her freak out was probably more annoying for her boyfriend than Roanoke Island was for the English. Nonetheless, after the settlement of Jamestown, the colonies grew geographically and economically, like a fetus growing in size and strength. Mind you, this was mild growth. The fetus cannot just punch a hole through the abdominal cavity and march out of the womb throwing Earl Grey into the ocean. The relationship between the colonies and England was always strained and uncomfortable; much like a woman's morning sickness. But at certain point the fetus decides that it's had quite enough of its dark, gooey, powerless situation, so it writes a Declaration of Independence, and induces labor. The baby can't just slide out; the USA can't just be independent. The mother fights through labor, England fought through a war with the colonies. They both lose. But America had some help from the French and Spanish, which are the equivalent of some French-made birthing forceps and a Spanish epidural. And that is how America was born. It was not until many years later that America matured enough to experience the embarrassment of unexpectedly "sailing at full mast" during gym class (the Vietnam War)

Some things that have happened in my Ancient Greek History class (so far!)

1. Our professor listed all the mistakes we made on our essay test
2. I realized I had done like all of them.
3. Our professor tried to use the computer so she could show her slide show, but coudln't turn it on.
4. Our professor left the room for ten minutes.
5. She came back with two helpers
6. A kid in the front row groaned really loudly
7. The guy next to me started angrily sighing louder and louder
8. My professor and one of the helpers spent a lot of time staring at the computer with their hands pensively on their chins
9. The second helper spent this time staring at the wall with a scowl, because she cannot believe she is actually here
10. The guy next to me typed angrilly
11. A third helper just walked in. Results are unclear as to how my professor contacted her through esp.
12. The second helper (the angry one) left the room without saying anything
13. Then the first helper left the room without saying anything
14. Our professor told us what would happen on Monday, while helper three opened a mysterious box inside the podium.
15. the guy next to me left the room.
16. Note: it is now 3:10. We have been here for half an hour.
17. My professor may or may not have offered the remaining helper (still crouched below the podium) some hard candy.
18. OH MY GOD A NEW HELPER JUST WALKED IN. ARE YOU KIDDING?!?!?!?!

At this point, 3:17pm, I just gave up. On a lot of things.

Self Hating Nerds

It's been a rough morning for all of us here. We tried to write, but we just ended up instant messaging from our respective libraries. James goes to Olin Library where the lighting and bodies are soft. I go to Science Library because there is a harsh fluorescent glare and tons of hot athletes.

A tasty sampling:

Smophietown25: there is the hugest nerd brigade here in the library right now
Smophietown25: i'm so bored right now
Jroz618: well wtf are you doing in sci li?
Smophietown25:i didn't know what else to do
Jroz618: Go home and do something if you don't have anything to do
Smophietown25: like it didn't even occur to me that i don't have work
Smophietown25: it's just a reflex to go to sci li
Jroz618: oh soph

Jroz618: In 3rd grade I spelled my name Jamamie on a spelling test and
the teacher showed the whole class.

Smophietown25: Girls in Dublin are so tacky. Don’t they realize that it is a)not SUMMER and b)ugly to wear that, so please take off your white linen shorts, stilettos, and shirt that is really just a bra, and wash off like 10 pounds of that makeup.

Jroz618: i hate this stop mainstreaming wes bullshit because most people who say it are incredibly boring themselves
Smophietown25: i hate everyone
Jroz618: and just pretend to be unique because they are so lame
Jroz618: they are what TS Eliot was talking about
Smophietown25: omg so true
Smophietown25: they are the wasteland
Smophietown25: more like the gay land

This has been fun!

Photo Phun with Phriends of the Site

We (I) realized we never did anything for the Ides of March, which have now both come and passed, so here are photos of Friends of the Site Tim and JP, who have very Roman hair.





Also, we feel that knowing what Friend of the Site Scott looks like is important to understanding his word choice and applying it to your everyday conversations. Go Wes Hockey!

Historical Horses: George Washington Edition

These are some of them.

George Washington bought Magnolia [1] , an Arabian horse, for 500 pounds [2] from his step-son Jon Parke Custis’s estate after the British surrendered at Yorktown.[3] He was thought to be one of the colonies’ most beautiful horses, with a blondie mane [4] and tail.[5] After an unsuccessful racing career, Magnolia was put out to stud. [6] Unknown speaker Jean Le Mayer [7] said: "I am at a loss for words to express my gratitude for the new offer of the services [8] of your horse Magnolia. I think him an elegant horse and would prefer my mares going to him rather than any one I have seen in America." [9]
George Washington had another horse named Nelson who served him at Valley Forge. When Nelson got old, Washington kept him and his other warhorse Blueskin “in a nice stable, where they feed away at their ease for their past services.” [10]

Sources
http://www.ushistory.org/valleyforge/youasked/024.htm
http://www.equisearch.com/horses_riding_training/travel/eqmtvernon2213/



FOOTNOTES
[1] English for “flower”
[2] My foul ex friend Violet stinks like Magnolia flowers, the most smelly of all flowers.
[3] Custis was unhappy about the sale, reminding Washington, “You’re not my real dad.” Washington laughed heartily and reminded him, “Yes, but you're dead.”
[4] Like sophie!
[5] James gets no tail.
[6] His stud pasture was in Los Angeles, chronicled in the biopic “Magnolia” starring William H Macy as George Washington (probably).
[7] No relation
[8] Ayyyyyyy!!!
[9] The mares thoughts that Magnolia was boring and only talked about lacrosse which was ridiculous because he went to a Division Three school so it’s not like he had a future in it anyway.
[10] Washington also invented social security.

Words, Words, Words, or: The Scott/Ben Franklin dictionary

Did I seriously write that?

James is away on a real Spring Break trip, while I'm at home getting caught up on work, sleep, and crying into a pile of Splenda. Since our respective plans for the next two weeks means we won't be posting much, I thought I'd give you a few new phrases to practice using in the downtime. In the tradition of Dr. Johnson's dictionary, here they are, courtesy of friend of the site Scott, except for the first one, which is from urboy Ben Franklin:

1. Halfway to Concord--Adj, from Ben Franklin. Means drunk.
1a. Concord--Adj, from James. Means blackout.

Note: The rest of these will all be from Friend of the Site Scott.

2. Peep--verb, to look at something. ("Who is this guy you've been dating? I peeped him on facebook, and he looks like a total lame." Sidenote: Scott uses Lame as a noun, and you should too).
3. Chuckie--Noun. Means a lame.
4. Right in my wheelhouse--Adj. Means to one's liking ("I peeped her in class, she's right in my wheelhouse.")
5. Chickadee—Proper noun. What you call a girl you think is pretty. Also use this when you can't remember a girl's name.
6. Freako/Piggo--Term of indearment. Use this when you can't remember people’s names. Not gender specific.

I hope we all learned something today. I know I did.

Suggestion

Hey Grumpelstiltskins, turn those frowns upside down! You get to relocate!

Dear Andrew Jackson,
Hey! It’s Sophie. How are you? I’m OK, keeping busy with school. My professors have really been up my behind lately, and I wanna be like, hey, lay off!
Anyway, I know you are just doing your job, and I know the Indians can be annoying because they take people captive and they have long hair.
But maybe rethink the title “Trail of Tears.” Because who wants to go on a trail of tears? That’s not going to get anyone excited to leave their homes and civilizations and walk hundreds of miles while crying. What about “happy fun walk?” or “good times on foot?” I’ve found it really is true what they say about winning over people more with honey than with vinegar, and this can apply in your case if you replace “honey” and “vinegar” with “life” and “death.” This can mean asking rather than telling, like with a pleasant “hey you guys, might you consider living somewhere else?” I’m serious, it could work.
Anyway, think about it.

Hugs and kisses
Sophie

PS—I know being President is stressful, so I purposely left out the issue of your eyebrows in this email, but you know what I’m talking about:





PPS—These actually came up on the first and second pages when I google image searched “Trail of Tears”

Caption Contest

The clothed guys are supposed to be Virgil and Dante. But use your imagination!

My Good Ideas

My Good Ideas

1. A strip club run by me (my nickname at school is PC), that would somehow incorporate literature (bras with pictures of famous writers embroidered on them?), called the PC Woodhouse.
2. A book on the importance of grammar and punctuation called “Call me, Ishmael!”
3. A wild west themed restaurant called Butch Casserole (it would serve casserole and food like casserole).


My Bad Ideas

1. Going to a strip club
2. Calling this guy I know named Ishmael
3. Eating casserole

Week In Perspective: The time has come to talk of monkey things

OMG THAT MONKEY IS LISTENING TO AN IPOD!!!!!!!!

Or, Three paragraphs just to tell Paul Rudnick to stop being such a
hack.

Monkeys come up a lot. In TV shows, in science experiments, in the jungle, in movies about science experiments or the jungle, at the zoo. Everyone knows monkeys are funny, even the word is funny. I think it's the unk sound, because Dunk and Uncle are also
funny, as are dunkaroos. Also my uncle dunking a basketball while eating dunkaroos.

Monkeys are even infiltrating our judicial system, and have been since the beginning of America/time. There was the Scopes Monkey trial in 1925, over teaching evolution in schools. In 1824 there was Gibbons V Ogden, in which two Gibbon monkeys who drove steamships were arguing over Congress's right to regulate commerce. Then one monkey hit the other monkey on the head and everyone laughed and the case was thrown out, because how can we stay mad at each other on such a sunny day? Most recently, a Liberian woman that wanted to eat monkeys was taken to court over her right to continue her tribal custom of eating "non-human primate species" (my foul ex-friend Violet?).

Yes, monkeys are funny, whether they are in diapers or smoking cigarettes, both of which make them look like old people, and maybe there is a lesson in that. But monkeys are also serious, as they are in court all the time. And you know what else is serious? Monkey jokes. Seriously OLD. With this serious realization on the cultural weight of monkeys, it is time to lay these jokes to rest. That includes you, Paul Rudnick.

Friend of the Site: The Worst Day Ever

Our friend Ben shares his thoughts on February 28th.

We all know that One is the loneliest number that you’ll ever do, but have you ever thought about how lonely other units of measurement are? ‘One’ may be the loneliest number, but February 28^th is clearly the loneliest day. Ever since 1582 when Pope Gregory the XIII and the Catholic Church decided to play ‘Mary’ and pop an extra day out of nowhere, the 28^th has been relegated to the role of ‘has been’ and side-show. This was of course a modification of the Julian calendar established by Julius Caesar in 46 B.C.E., and is designed for the sole purpose of keeping the vernal equinox as close to March 21^st as possible. What does this accomplish? An Easter celebration that is calendarily [sic] static! The problem is bunnies don’t really care when Easter is, and they definitely don’t care about February 28^th. They only care about whether there are enough carrots, marshmallow birds and delicious cream filled eggs in their baskets. But February 28^th cares. It cares a lot.

Of course this isn’t exactly the first offense levied against the 28^th. In my time spent with the day I have found enough repressed infantile sexuality that Freud is likely turning over in his nasty little grave. Think about it: the last day of the shortest month of the year? And everyone knows? Arguing that it’s really a normal day and even looks bigger because the month is so short is only lying to yourself. There is a lot of worry in that poor days head.

Only adding to the issue is that the 28^th and 29^th have a terrible relationship. Robin Williams jokes about Canada being the loft apartment over a great party (the U.S.). Well think of February 28^th as the boiler rooms under Middle America’s industrial factories: cold, empty and impotent (the metaphor works when you realize that it’s still February and the winter sucks so its not like the factory floor is that great anyway). Throughout history February the 29^th has been surrounded by an almost bacchanalian aura. It was not so uncommon up through the 1970’s to celebrate a leap year through alcohol. This obviously gave rise to the historical tradition of ‘gender reversal’ on the 29^th, epitomized by the 17^th century play ‘The Maydes Metamorphosis’, which in theatrical form demonstrated that it was not unusual for women to dawn breeches and petticoats and in the small-private-northeast-liberal arts university tradition, do the ‘woo’ing’ themselves. This type of behavior also likely gave rise to the 19^th century New Orleans tradition of including celebratory trials and hangings on the 29^th as well (it was a patriarchal society and if you didn’t have a penis then it was usually unwise to pretend that you do). The libation that filled February 29^th has only begun to fade from our conscience, and that is only because of the prevalence of very poorly made cocktails named after the day.

What I have tried to impress upon you today is to think about the consequences of the leap year. It is not a victimless compensation. Man may suffer eternally, but for our own convenience we have made it so that February 28^th now suffers along side. Every four years the day’s misery is compounded by the return of the 29^th, and so every four years we, as a community, should reflect on the real world impact of our conveniences. Only every four years though, there is no sense in being bogged down all the time.

Caption Contest

The Biggest Lies in History

Theodore Roosevelt was a Rough Rider

The Biggest Lies in History:

Columbus discovered America

Jacksonian Democracy

Theodore Roosevelt’s sexuality

When Mother told me that I’d like moving to New Jersey from New York because I’ll have a back yard to play in

The French “Resistance” in World War Two

The McCain-Feingold campaign finance reform act

My “relationship” with my seventh grade girlfriend

“You are a very qualified candidate but at this time we have no openings. Good luck!”

Week in Perspective

When you write on the internet, anyone can hear you. My Ben Franklin post on Monday caused something of a stir in my family. When I posted it, I was more worried about future employers reading it than my parents, since they have some idea of my habits anyway. I reassured my mother and father over the phone that some parts of the story were exaggerated for effect. She then asked, "What about twelve beers in twenty two minutes?" No, that was true.

My mother sent me this note after reading the post.

You made your mother look up venery in the dictionary. But you also made me laugh out loud. Not telling which parts. And I'm getting closer to the derivation of your nickname, but the closer I get, the less I want to know. Finally, 12 beers in 22 minutes sounds like bad judgment no matter what century you are living in or whose rules you are following.

Love,

Mommy

I guess that's "approval."

Have a good weekend, we'll see you Monday.

Friend of the Site Thursday: Suetonius

A combination of our “friends” being too lazy to write something, and James and I being too lazy to ask them to write something means that no one wrote anything. So today’s guest writer is Roman historian Suetonius, by which I mean I typed up some of the best lines from his famous The Twelve Caesars to offer further proof to my longstanding belief, which everyone should know already, that the Romans were the most baller civilization of all time. If you didn’t know that then you are stupid.

“He [Julius Caesar] had often smilingly sworn, while still in their power, that he would soon capture and crucify them; and this is exactly what he did.”

“When asked ‘Would you like to visit the Mausoleum of the Ptolemies?’ he [Augustus] replied: ‘I came to see a King, not a row of corpses.’”

“Aware that the city was architecturally unworthy of her position as capital of the Roman empire, besides being vulnerable to fire and river floods, Augustus so improved her appearance that he could justifiably boast: ‘I found Rome built of bricks; I left her clothed in marble.’”

“On the day that he died, Augustus…summoned a group of friends and asked: ‘have I played my part in the farce of life creditably enough?’”

“They spent a whole day together in confidential talk. I am well aware of the story that, when Tiberius finally took his departure, Agustus’ attendants overheard him saying: ‘Poor Rome, doomed to be masticated by those slow-moving jaws!’”

“Once, during a gaol inspection, a prisoner begged to be put out of his miser; Tiberius replied: ‘No, we are not yet friends again.’”

“When about to [feed his pet snake] as usual he [Tiberius] found it half eaten by a swarm of ants; and a soothsayer warned him: ‘Beware the power of the mob.’”

“On banishing his sisters, he remarked: ‘I have swords as well as islands.’”


I'm going to get back to working on my time machine. I pour gin into a cup, and then I put the cup with the gin in it to my lips, and then I drink the gin from the cup, and then I repeat the drinking of the gin from the cup multiple times. With enough dedication, I forget what era I'm in, and I go back and visit all my friends in Ancient Rome. Nice.

Personal Ads (Or, how I learned to stop worrying about my pathetic love life and live in a fantasy world of the past)

OMG wouldn't it be amazing if someone discovered all of these lost personal ads that our favorites had written? Well today is your best day in your whole life, because someone did, and it was me. You're welcome.


Clearly we love Ben Franklin. We're looking for someone else to love him too.


Ladies, he is literally made of money. Or money is made of him. Either way, cash money!!!!!!

"58 years young seeks reasonable creature for jolly conversation and much more. Must enjoy literary discourse, a good fart joke. Make me rise early."



Just look at that facial hair. I mean really look at it. Then look away. Feel better? I know I do.

For all you nature lovers, why not try a romantic dinner for two at Walden pond? We hear Thoreau is quite Thorough of you know what I mean (I don't).

"Massachusetts man seeking woman with a well built temple called your body to enjoy solitude with me. Ride my railroad (or let it ride you--really, it's the same thing). Must be willing to do laundry."


Conclusion: live in the past. It makes the present look so much better (invisible).

Caption Contest Tuesday

Two of my favorites, out for a stroll. What could Dr Samuel "Jamspot" Johnson and James "Bozzy" Boswell be talking about as they trip so merrily down the street? Caption Contests have endless possibilities, and that's why they are so fun. That and the free cookies and bars of gold the winners have been getting.

My Thirteen Virtues

Ben Franklin discovered electricity

When I decided to start living according to Ben Franklin's Thirteen Virtues, I had long been nurturing the fear that I will be forgotten as soon as I am dead and rotten. Impending graduation brought this fear to the front of my mind, and I reevaluated my habits. By most measures (I get good grades and my drinking causes little harm to others) I've had a respectful college career. I felt, however, that the antics of my friends and me wouldn't fly in the real world. I needed higher aims. Living according to Franklin's thirteen virtues would make me healthy, wealthy, and wise, would it not? Plus I was taking the LSAT's in week so I would have work hard and stay sober anyway.

The experiment started out auspiciously. For the first few days, I didn't drink, I got ahead on schoolwork. I even cleaned the kitchen before going to bed early. This lasted about a week before my roommates got angry. Attending college, especially with my group of friends, does not make living this life easy, especially the Temperance part. (My roommate once drank twelve beers in twenty-two minutes.) Drunkenness seriously inhibits Silence, Order, Resolution, Frugality, Moderation, Cleanliness, Justice, Chastity, Justice, and Humility. In my experience though, it has a positive effect on Sincerity. Although appreciative of the cleaning, my housemates started calling me James instead of my informal nickname, which I gained by violating at least four of the Virtues. Nobody likes the only Sober, Cheap, and Celibate guy at the party. Living strictly according to the virtues precluded me from some of my favorite pastimes, including drinking, gambling, and venery. I started making ex ante justifications for my transgressions.

While nominally living according to the virtues, necessitated by the condition of studying for the LSATS, I thought of ways to circumvent them once the test was over. #12 Chastity (Rarely use Venery but for health or offspring) seemed to be an easy one to get around, at least in theory. Franklin, well known among the ladies of Paris, worded the rule cleverly. At this point in my life, offspring are not desired, which left health. Health, I thought, can be defined broadly. I've heard that venery is good cardio. I gained comfort in this, as I am sure Ben did too, even though he'd never heard the word cardio, and if he did would never practice it intentionally. Since being unchaste requires the aide of another, justifying venery proved harder than doing it.

#1Temperance was hard to get around semantically, but energy and persistence conquer all things. With friends like mine, however, I needed to find or make a reason to drink, at least in moderation. Genius struck when I realized that in the eighteenth century, people only drank alcoholic beverages. There were no alcoholics then because everybody was drunk all the time. So in my mind, I changed "Drink not to Elevation" to "Drink not to permanent brain/liver damage." Franklin was known on both sides of the Atlantic as a drunk, syphilis-ridden hypocrite anyway.

After the LSAT's I made up for all of my "progress" with a few rough days. I saw the need for balance. Like Franklin I learned "that a benevolent man should allow a few faults in himself, to keep his friends in countenance." #9 Moderation deserves a higher place on the list. I still drink too much, speak unnecessarily (ask anyone in my English class), and certainly do not imitate Jesus nor Socrates. As for Chastity, that's none of your business. The difference is I'm trying, which is enough for now. As Franklin smiled down on me from that great Maison in the sky, I thought to myself, "So convenient a thing it is to be a Reasonable Creature."

Week in Perspective

A brief look into why Odysseus would have been a great Valentine


Pictured above: Odysseus on the prowl, probably to buy his Valentine something nice, as opposed to not buying her anything.

How to put this week into perspective? There are people starving all over the world? Some people can't go to school? All sad, but it doesn't really make up for the fact that yesterday at WesWings I was walking out and re-looked at the Specials Menu and saw that I what I had ordered and eaten was the Valentines Day Lady and the Tramp Dinner for Two. Except I ate it for one. Because I am alone. So put that into perspective, jerks. Here's something I wrote while thinking all these positive thoughts.

A brief look into why Odysseus would have been a great Valentine

Hey yall. So Valentines day was a total lame and I’m really sad. My friend of the male persuasion and I had very different opinions on how valentines day should be spent. I felt that it should be spent. He felt that we should pretend we don’t know each other. Anyway, I can’t stop thinking about who I really wish was my valentine, the one I’ve always loved from afar (besides the Wesleyan Men’s Soccer team), the one Athena protected, the hardest working man in show business, Odysseus.

First of all, Odysseus was really dedicated to spending time with Penelope. I mean he almost killed his own child trying to get out leaving her and going to war. This shows dedication, love, and not being a huge jerk that never calls Penelope back.

Also Odysseus was really smart and manly. He sliced and diced them on the battlefields of Troy, and he designed the wooden horse that helped the Greeks win the war. Ok so he clearly couldn’t navigate himself out of a paper bag, but obviously navigating the seas of Greece is a lot harder than navigating to Amici’s Italian Grill on Main Street.

And another thing. Odysseus ate real food, like meat and wine and feast things. Sometimes guys are on sports teams and then feel like they can only eat various Odwalla products, such as Superfood and Superprotein Almond, and sometimes that makes girls feel fat because they want to eat solid foods, including chicken parm, which everyone knows is good for you because cheese has calcium for healthy bones and teeth. Just throwing that out there.

In conclusion, I hate this era.

Friend of the Site Thursday

HEARTS ARE REAL BEATING THINGS WITH FEELINGS OK?!?!?!??!?!?

By which I mean "here is Hans's piece."

Valentine’s Day
By Hans

Yes, its true, the hallmark holiday is upon us again. A time to express one’s love for a significant other through tender and meditated gestures. Perhaps some flowers followed by dinner, maybe a glass of red wine followed by coitus? Perhaps we have lost sight of what this holiday is really about, much like we have lost sight of Christmas’ true meanings (not applicable to James.) What is Valentine’s Day really about?

Long before Valentine’s Day was ever associated with love, it was known as Lupercalia, an ancient Greco-Roman holiday in which young, noble boys would run through the city in the nude, carrying shaggy thongs to strike anyone they met. Women seeking fertility would purposely intersex…I mean intersect with these young boys, believing they would be aided in conceiving. A strong proponent of Greco-Roman style wrestling, I can’t help but be a fan of this ritual. How have we strayed so far from ourselves? (Does not apply if you are not Greco-Roman) Tell me what could possibly be more romantic than arming ourselves with shaggy thongs and running amuck. Think of the children. Think of the children to be had.

The word Lupercalia is derived from lupus, or wolf, which I found fascinating as my only experience with lupus is my chronic joint pain. The name Lupercalia suggests a connection to the legend of how Rome was founded. Romulus and Remus suckled the teat of a wolf after they were orphaned. Personal experience has informed me that wolf’s milk is neither tasty nor easy to get, there are many nipples on those things. As if naked boys aren’t enough to make this holiday truly special, priests would make a sacrifice of two goats and one dog to the she-wolf. The blood (it’s the color of love) would then be spread throughout the streets to promote fertility as well as keep the wolves away. On second thought, I don’t think spreading blood around would keep wolves away, and vulnerable boys definitely would not, but boy it would be cool.

Valentine’s Day has certainly come a long way, but who is to say we can’t re-connect with our past instead of someone who probably doesn’t love you anyways. I know what I’ll be doing this Valentine’s Day and I invite you to join me. You bring the boys and shaggy thongs, I’ll bring the goats.

Take me to the river

The most common territory dispute

Fighting over territory is a part of human interaction. Initially developed when we were hunter-gatherers, now most people experience territorial conflicts early in life, in the automotive setting. Children learn to defend, by any means, their side of the back seat. In this spirit, a border dispute has erupted between Ohio and Kentucky. If you’ve ever looked at a map of the United States, you may be asking yourself, “How is this possible? There’s a huge river between them. Shouldn’t it be obvious where the border is?”

According to the Times a rock that was once in the Ohio River is the disputed territory. People would carve their initials on this rock when the river was low enough. It got the name “Indian Head Rock” because nobody knew who carved a crappy smiley face on it so it must have been an Indian. An Ohioan historian brought it ashore recently, which set off a controversy that has everyone from grade school children to state legislators furious. According to the Times article, “High school seniors are being asked to write position papers on the following: “Why the rock should be Ohio’s and not Kentucky’s.” Reginald Meeks, a Kentucky state representative has different ideas. Meeks stood strongly for Kentucky’s rights, sponsoring a resolution calling for the return of the rock to Kentucky so that the people of Kentucky will inherit it for generations. You know thing’s are going well in our country when our educational system is so efficient that fourth graders tackle the same issues as elected officials.

I am neither an elected official nor a fourth grader, but I have an opinion on this matter. The rock should stay with the historian who raised it from the river bed. I don’t see why Meeks or Kentucky would have any claim to this rock. They didn’t do anything about it. If you raise a huge rock from the bottom of a river it should be yours. And I can tell you right now that the face wasn’t carved by an Indian. An expertise in Native American rock carvings isn’t even necessary. Just use your brain.

Caption Contest

Come on, you've always wanted to.

Repping the (Massachusetts) Bay Area

"Lil" John Winthrop


Three popular song titles of relevance to Puritans
Black Magic Woman—Fleetwood Mac, Santana
Lady in Red—Chris De Burgh
Goodies—Ciara

Three popular songs title not of relevance to Puritans
Drive my car—Beatles
Safe European Home—The Clash
Cocaine—Eric Clapton

Week In Perspective

We're at the end of another stellar Monocles Galore week. We want to thank Eli for being this week's Friend of the Site, and all of you for reading and your contributions to the caption contests. Here are this week's co-winners "The quality of penthouse pets has really gone down lately. Look at this young lass here..." and "if i knew more about erotic gay literature, i would write a caption that made it seem as though that is what they were reading." Perhaps many of our readers come from British prep schools. [Sophie's note: Perhaps they were written BY ROBERT GRAVES, WHO DID GO TO BRITISH PREP SCHOOL, FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!]

A lot of people ask us how we come up with ideas for our posts. We get struck by inspiration in all kinds of places, the worst being the kidneys. This scene actually happened, and exemplifies the creative process behind Monocles Galore.

Scene: Editor's meeting at James's house

James's dad: So what is this?

James: It's like…you know…a website…with like…where we're funny, and we're like…writing, like, in the style of like….other writers.

Sophie: It's humor writing about literature and history

James's dad: So who provides the humor and who provides the literature?

Sophie and James: Blank stares.

James's dad: yeah…so, what, it's like George Washington crossing the Delaware and then you make fun of him because he had a leaky boat?

James: Haha no that's stupid

Sophie (whisper): James, write that down.

Have a great weekend.

Friend of the Site Thursday

Our Friend Eli wrote this piece.

The Building of the Brooklyn Bridge by Eli

The years 1870-1883 was not the most exciting era in U.S. history. The one exception, however, was the building of the Brooklyn Bridge. This bridge set the standard for bridge engineering and aesthetic around the world, and all under one of the most corrupt city governments this country has ever seen. One could barely build a sturdy dog-house in New York City without paying massive fees for permits and shoddy materials from corrupt contractors.[1] The story of the the Brooklyn Bridge is a beautiful, tragic and fascinating tale of individual heroism, popular resistance, and political intrigue. Unfortunately, I don’t have time to tell it tonight. So instead I’ll tell one little, amazing piece of the story: the sinking of the piers.

Even today, the piers are imposing structures, but in 1876 when both towers were completed, they dwarfed every structure around them. The second tallest building, the Trinity Chapel barely rose to half the height of the two towers.[2]

So how do you dig out 45 feet of riverbed while 70 feet underwater with neither electricity[3] nor steam shovel?!!![4] Construct an enormous box out of wood and steel (but mainly wood), pump it full of compressed air fill it full of men with shovels, and sink it to the bottom of the river, where men will dig and set small dynamite charges into bedrock so that slowly, inch by inch, the wood box sinks into the ground. When the box is at the requisite depth, you’ll get the men out (except for the 20 who died from the bends…they came out earlier) and fill it with concrete, and that will be the foundation to one your two towers.

This system of digging out river bottoms by submerging men with shovels in air-compressed boxes was not exactly new technology in 1873.[5] But it had never been done on this scale before and few believed it could be. Washington Roebling, head engineer of the Brooklyn Bridge, and perhaps one of the most brilliant figures in U.S. history, believed different. Roebling commissioned a New York shipbuilder to build him two enormous boxes (known as caissons). They were to be 168 feet x 102 feet and 21 feet high. The walls were shaped like a V: nine feet thick where they met the ceiling and tapering down to an 8 inch digging wedge. The shipbuilder was so skeptical of the plan, that they he demanded to be paid in advance.[6]

On May 3, 1870, the first caisson took off from its dock and was pulled by eight tug boats into position near the Brooklyn shore. Layer upon layer of stone was added to the top of the caisson until it had settled into the bottom of the east river. Work in the caisson was hard, dangerous and dirty.[7] At one point, fire broke out in the Brooklyn caisson’s roof. Had this fire continued much longer, 35,000 tons of stone on top would have come crashing down.

So when you’re strolling with your date en route to your nouveau-yuppie condo in DUMBO, make sure you give workers some dap.

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[1] This was unfortunate because most people lived in dog houses

[2] Upon completion of the piers, the builder of Trinity Chapel felt inadequate

[3] didn’t exist yet…well, it did, but wasn’t harnessed…you know what I mean.

[4] A new technology prone to exploding

[5] How do you think they built Atlantis?

[6] The modern usage of “Bling” originates from Roebling’s ability to pay the ship builders with cubic zirconium

[7] That’s what she said

Have you found Jesus?

Get the religious iconography here?

Whenever I read a novel, I try to figure out which character represents Jesus. I don’t know, someone I can’t remember said that maybe it was a good idea.

To be fair, I haven’t read the bible, so my knowledge about the Gospel has arrived in a circuitous route. (Everything I know about the New Testament I learned from The Waste Land) I get excited when I match a character to Jesus. An exchange in class today:

James: “I think Sebastian might be Jesus because at the end he grows a beard.”

Class laughs

James: under his breath “I don’t know; I’m Jewish.”

Professor: Well that doesn’t mean you can’t look for religious iconography.

My professor had a good point. Just because you haven’t read something, doesn’t mean you can’t talk about it with authority. I kind of get the point; Immaculate Conception, miracles, carpenter, beard, betrayed, dies for the sins of humanity, and is reborn. So basically anything that has sacrifice and death and rebirth is Jesus. Here are some connections I have made.

Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain-Tom Sawyer.

He resurrects himself. Also, likes to lie down by the river.

Touchdown for Tommy by Matt Christopher: Orphan Tommy

He tries to get his foster father/coach to adopt him by playing well, thus carrying a burden, and making him Jesus. In never revealing the identity of Tommy’s biological father Christopher deftly leaves open the possibility that he could have been God.

Hamlet William Shakespeare: Hamlet

His father is a ghost. Oh, but his mother is not a virgin. And no beard. Nevermind.

The Bible: Moses

He doesn’t get to go into the promised land, thus making a sacrifice.

The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway: The Fish

Wait . . . the old man?

Caption Contest

Post your caption for your chance to feel like you belong to something bigger than yourself.




Here's Robert Graves and a friend looking at a book. I'm a writing tutor for a writing class, so here are some prompts:
Are they reading out loud?
Looking something up?
Think about it. Read up to page 20.

Using Rhetorical Devices: A Great Way to be a Baller

It goes without saying that to be an awesome writer you should also rock the slicked back side part and bamboo cane like TS Eliot.


If you read the site you are currently reading, you know that there are many writers we aspire to be like. Now obviously we can't all be Nabokov, unless you are Nabokov, in which case you can. Logic aside, there are a few things you can do to improve your writing and just generally be awesome. I would know, because I am a best selling author (true story). And look where I am now!!!!!

Rhetorical devices are an important way to be a cool writer. Let me elaborate. Rhetorical devices, as everyone knows, are an important way to be cool (as a writer). Do you think I became a best selling author by NOT using rhetorical devices?

But don’t worry. Take it from me, being a best selling author is a lot easier than it looks. Because the cool thing about rhetorical devices is that you’re already using them without even knowing it. Ever said, “Hey look at that guy. That guy is ugly!”? You just used anadiplosis. Let’s look at a few more, taken from the banter that goes on around the MG offices. And while you do that, I will be over here looking at my scrapbook about my book--the one filled with rhetorical devices and that was on the best seller list—and sucking Jack Daniels from the bottle like there’s no tomorrow. I might even vomit on your stuff, which you will then be able to sell on ebay (because I am a best selling author).

You’re welcome.

1. Asyndeton: Leaving out conjunctions between words or phrases.
“Hey, tampon face, this is my desk. Can you please clear all your old Us Weeklies, Boswell’s London Diary, old coffee cups, crumpled up pieces of paper?”—James
“Well at least I’m writing and doing stuff. All you do is play fantasy football, talk about how girls won’t hook up with you, instant message with Tony, email the rugby team.”--Sophie

2. Epistrophe: Repeating a word or words at the end of a series of phrases or sentences.
“Well all you do is work obsessively and talk about your foul ex friend Violet! ‘I hate my foul ex friend Violet.’ ‘My life was ruined by my foul ex friend Violet.’ ‘I want to write a piece about what Ben Franklin would think about my foul ex friend Violet'.”—James

3. Metanoia: Taking back a statement, then restating it more strongly, specifically, etc.
“I hate working with you. I picked the worst, laziest, most immature writing partner in the entire school, no wait, in the entire universe.”--Sophie

4. Anaphora: repeating the first word in a group of sentences, clauses, or phrases.
“And I hate working with you! And by the way I lied when I said I liked Notebook Girls. I think it was a stupid idea, a stupid book, and it gave you a stupid big egotistical head. I QUIT.”--James

5. Zeugma: using a verb literally and figuratively.
“Great. You just quit your job AND your friend.”—Sophie

6. Hyperbole: extreme exaggeration
“So…wanna go to the campus center? I’m so hungry I could eat like eight gajillion burritos.”--James

7. Alliteration: repeating the first consonant sound in a group of words.
“What a stupendous suggestion. And while we’re there, we can talk about that baller Ben Franklin piece I want to write: thirteen things that Ben Franklin would say…about my foul ex friend Violet…if he were high.”--Sophie

8. Diacope: Repeating a word or phrase but with a different word or phrase in the middle.
“Excellent idea, my friend, excellent idea.”--James


Damn right!
(Expletive)

Week in Perspective

(Jerry's mom voice) How could anybody not love him??!?!?!!?!?


This has been a weird week for all of us here at Monocles Galore. Well, mainly just James. He’s been living Ben Franklin’s thirteen resolutions, which hasn’t been easy for him, since it means he can't mack on girls at parties or shove food down his throat until he gets so full that he unbuttons the top button and wheezes until somebody brings him a glass of milk. Also, I told him that Walt Whitman called America “the greatest poem,” and now he’s filled with all these conflicting feelings: USA #1 versus Poetry is Sissy.

This week’s caption contest went better than last, since instead of zero responses we had two responses: “the greatest blowjob in all of history” and “Sophia Dumaine’s bat mitzvah.” I don’t know which is least appropriate—one that is about oral sex or one that is an inside joke about how waspy one of our friends is. Well, you know what our motto is around here: everybody wins!
(Except losers and my foul ex-friend Violet, who is a loser.)

Friend of the Site Thursday: Emily

This week, we turn to our resident eras expert, Emily, to get some insight on one of the most luxurious and best eras, the Middle Ages.


In the Middle Ages, everyone trotted their steeds through the billowing wheat fields whilst a bird did alight upon their fair hand.


What it was like in Medieval Times

By Emily

On one of my first day trips while abroad in Bordeaux, we went to Blaye, a medieval fortress outside of Bordeaux from the Middle Ages, when men wore metal and women wore velvet. It brought me back to my first experience with the Medieval times, the Medieval Times in New Jersey, where you sat in this stadium with your arts/sports day camp where everyone is a winner and watched fake knights in armor come out onto this sand pit and joust. There would be four guys, each sporting one of the four most luxurious colors: deep purple, blood red, emerald green, and, of course, royal blue, with some sort of shield depiction a fierce animal or shape. We gnawed on oversized turkey legs and drank grape juice out of enormous clunky goblets with falcons embroidered into them, which all made us feel that the experience was historically legit. Suddenly we all got really serious and into the jousting, and I don’t remember anything after that.

I do remember the medieval fortress we went to last week, and my visit allowed me to imagine other things that existed in the middle ages. For example, there was an extreme element of luxury. Only the finest fabrics like velvet and satin were used for anything and everything: drapes, bedspreads, curtains, shower curtains, those drapes that you drape over horses backs, gowns, ties, ruffles, ruffles on shoes and ties, and of course, CLOAKS!! Embroidery was also huge back then. Once you slipped into your deep purple gown embroidered with gold doves and pear shaped leaves, you could assume all amounts of ultimate power, even though the fabric was so heavy that you could barely walk. That’s why you didn’t have to exercise, cause you burned so many calories wearing the clothing of luxury.

Walking into the fortress over the cobblestone bridge sounded medieval. While the moat is now dry, I could just hear the swishing murky water below me, full of treasure including golden medallions, jewels (rubies, sapphires, and emeralds), and golden medallions encrusted with jewels. Also audible was the sound of horse hooves clunking over the bridge, a jolly sound that was echoed by the old school stone acoustic system surrounding the fortress.

Walking inside the fortress, if I used my imagination, I could picture peasant ladies on the side of the cobblestone streets in their cream and robin’s egg blue dresses (still luxurious, because tons of fabric is always luxurious) milking small white goats that were about to get slaughtered for the king’s stew later that eve. The olde towne worked for the king day and night. After using my imagination for a while, we all got crepes, which were mad good. The oozing nutella also brought me back to that element of luxury that characterized the medieval times, as most overflowing amounts of any sort of material does.

Manliest Moments in History

Nice guns, lolz!!!!


Sophie
Note: James came up with this ridiculous idea that we work together on a piece, which I hate. I didn't want to do this, but we're on a time crunch, and someone's gotta pay the bills around here. Personally, I think calling anything in history "manly," and then assuming that this is somehow cool, is stupid. But not like anyone listens to me anyway, so here's my list, jerks. I'm going to the movies.

-Hemingway’s entire existence
-JFK’s hookup with Marilyn Monroe
-Caning of Charles Sumner. The guy that beat him up, though probably mentally ill, took Sumner out in front of EVERYONE.
-Goldmining Era
-Sherman’s march. Sherman was a total baller and just drove through the south destroying everything in his path. Ok, it paved the way for years of the south as an economic backwater with tremendous social and racial division. But it all worked out for the best, right?
-Teddy Roosevelt and the Rough Riders.
-FDR crippled yet able to walk.
-Kid Curry, famous outlaw Butch and Sundance’s Hole In The Wall Gang, escaped from jail, and this other time he killed a guy and the guy’s friends and the cops that came to get him.


James
Note: Sophie is a lame.

-When Maximus Decimus Meridius was commander of the Armies of the North, General of the Felix legions, loyal servant to the true emperor, Marcus Aurelius, but then he got betrayed by the emperor’s son who became the new emperor so then Maximus had to go save his family but then his family was dead so he was father to a murdered son and husband to a murdered wife and he became a gladiator who defied an emperor, and he had his vengance.
-The time the firemen came to my house because my attic smelled like burning. Firemen are sweet.
-Andrew Jackson and the trail of tears. He never cried.
-When Harrison Ford said, “Get off my plane.”

Caption Contest

Email us with your caption for this painting for a chance to win an excellent prize

Anyone who writes "The Death of General Wolf" automatically loses.

Eleven Reasons I would like to live in the 1890's

Though their reunion is making me about as excited as I get about anything these days (low carb/low calorie combo is crazy exhausting!), the Spice Girls just can't compare to these ladies.


1. Corsets. Hot, also, struggling to breathe burns calories.
2. It was known as the Gay Nineties.
3. Mark Twain would still be alive.
4. Roman Emperor Caligula would not.
5. Little men with twirly mustaches who say Curses, Foiled Again when your hot boyfriend saves you after you were tied to the train tracks.
6. Cute orphan chimney sweeps/factory workers with caps and that little smudge of soot on their nose that never comes off.
7. Speaking of which, you didn’t have to go to school past like 4th grade.
8. Muttonchops
9. Monocles
10. End of cowboy era, but still cowboys,so interesting time of crossover, also tragic beauty.
11. Opium and cigarettes not bad for you

Week in Perspective

Sophie gets to go here! For free!

In case you missed it, (chances are you did) we’ve made some big changes to the site this week. We added the weekly schedge to the column to your right so you can tell what day it is by what you’re reading on MG. We had our first caption contest and guest writer posts. Since nobody submitted a caption, Sophie won the contest. She receives a free pass to the spacious Lincoln Memorial in our nation’s capital.* Look for next week’s caption contest on Captioncontestday. (Tuesday, for those who cling to the old-fashioned nomenclature)

Our link of the week (from Sophie’s dad): Jill Lepore, one of my favorites, reviews “The Papers of Benjamin Franklin,” another favorite, in the New Yorker: http://www.newyorker.com/arts/critics/atlarge/2008/01/28/080128crat_atlarge_lepore

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* transportation, lodging, and food not included

Friend of the Site Thursday: Jared is Angry.

As you know, today is Thursday. That means we are proud to present Jared, a friend of the site, as our first guest writer in our weekly "Friend of the Site" series. Friend of the site.

Don't take Jared's fries without asking.


That Shizzle
By Jared

I really don’t understand why women in the twenties wore long gloves. It makes absolutely no sense. For what reason do you need a glove that is elbow length, besides for if you have ugly elbows. It’s the stupidest thing ever. It’s not even like they wore these gloves in the winter, which could possibly be acceptable, they wore them when year round. So if one was to wear a pair of these long gloves in the summer, it means that their forearm and hands would be extremely sweaty and gross. Why would somebody do this to themselves? Frankly, it’s retarded.

I’ve actually seen somebody wearing these gloves. One night I was at a diner with my friends and we were just chatting and eating. Side note, this girl just stuck her hand in my plate and took some of my fries and that pissed me off so much. But anyway we start hearing somebody singing some opera type stuff, and we look over and see this fat man singing. Then the person that he was sitting with returns from the bathroom. She looked like a person that was straight out of The Great Gatsby. It was hilarious. Also, she was wearing the gloves, and it was summer. Basically, she’s an idiot. She was also wearing this big ass hat that was tipped one way covering one eye. It was just a very funny sight.

Obviously the gloves were a fashion statement or whatever, but honestly it’s dumb. In all fashion from the roaring twenties sucks and should never be replicated or duplicated.