From Beware of Pity

Anton Hofmiller has realized something, or thinks so:


Stefan Zweig, Beware of Pity, trans. Phyllis and Trevor Blewitt (New York: New York Review Books, 2006).

Elaine and I are beginning Zweig’s only finished novel, the last of his fiction left to us to read.

Related reading
All OCA Stefan Zweig posts (Pinboard)

Flagston floor plan

[No doubt by Dik Browne. Click for a larger floor plan.]

Behold an undated floor plan for Hi and Lois Flagston’s house. I love the thoroughness with which the artist has imagined his characters’ world: the stairs between the dining room and kitchen must lead to the basement. And notice how small the television set is, next to what must be the fireplace.

The plan appears in Brian Walker’sThe Best of “Hi and Lois” by Mort Walker and Dik Browne (Lincoln, NE: iUniverse, 2005).

Related reading
All OCA Hi and Lois posts (Pinboard)

Flowers knows best

In the Father Knows Best episode “Kathy’s Big Chance” (November 13, 1957), Jim Anderson (Robert Young) tells daughter Kathy (Lauren Chapin) what she needs to do to write a better essay:

“You should do more reading. Make a lot of notes. Organize your material. And then start writing.”

Jim and Kathy seem well on their way to working out Betty Sue Flowers’s four-part model for a writer’s work: madman, architect, carpenter, judge.

Another struggling writer who could benefit from this model: Sally Brown. In today’s Peanuts, she begins writing a report on “The Ocean”:

The ocean is full of water. “Ha!” You may say. “What else?” That’s a good question.

Then a pause. And then: “Sometimes it’s easy to get bogged down on these reports.”

Real-world writers of all ages can also benefit from the Flowers model, whose memorable metaphors make clear that writing well requires many different kinds of work. Granularity and all that. You can’t just sit down with an ocean full of water.

Once I discovered the Flowers model (via Bryan Garner), I shared it with all my classes in my final five years of teaching. I liked to extend the metaphors: start building a house without a blueprint and you’ll be left trying to figure out what to do about bathrooms; start thinking about knobs for the kitchen cabinets when you’re looking at a vacant lot and you’ll never get anywhere.

Betty Sue Flowers knows best.

Other posts about this surprisingly good television series
“Betty’s Graduation” : “Margaret Disowns Her Family” : “A Woman in the House”

[Hulu has all six seasons of Father Knows Best.]

The OED, a “moving document”

In The Guardian, Andrew Dickson reports on the Oxford English Dictionary in the Internet age, as the dictionary attempts “to be ever so slightly more complete today than it was yesterday or the day before.” Will a third edition ever appear?

The dictionary team now prefer to refer to [the OED] as a “moving document.” Words are only added; they are never deleted. When I suggested to [chief editor] Michael Proffitt that it resembled a proud but leaky Victorian warship whose crew were trying to keep out the leaks and simultaneously keep it on course, he looked phlegmatic. “I used to say it was like painting the Forth Bridge, never-ending. But then they stopped — a new kind of paint, I think.” He paused. “Now it’s just us.”

[Painting the Forth Bridge: a colloquial expression.]

At the poetry tournament

Indeed, it was a tournament, not a slam. The contestants were seated at tables. Someone was interviewing Martha Raye. Frank O’Hara walked around taking photographs. “It’s America,” he said. “There are prizes.”

Related reading
All OCA dream posts (Pinboard)

[A source, as Elaine figured out: an episode of Father Knows Best in which Kathy enters an essay contest and gets to meet Greer Garson. Another: a reference to Frank O’Hara in an article about Greta Gerwig’s Lady Bird.]

NPR, sheesh

The “Democratic memo” didn’t drop. The House Intelligence Committee released it.

Movies and records drop. But as Elaine said at breakfast, “This isn’t show business.”

Things that should drop: hints, balloons, a line, the other shoe. Pins, as long as you can hear them. The mic, though I hate that spelling. I’m out.

Related reading
All OCA sheesh posts (Pinboard)
Ambiguous drop (Dropping a threat)

From the Saturday Stumper

Today’s Newsday Saturday Stumper, by Matthew Sewell, took me about twice as long as usual to solve. But solve it I did. A particularly clever clue, 58-Across, seven letters: “They’re handled with salsa.” No spoilers; the answer is in the comments.

Surprising to see the clue for 39-Down, seven letters: “John Waters film gimmick inspired by Smell-O-Vision.” But that one’s a giveaway.

Gregor Z.

[Zippy, February 24, 2018.]

I know what he means.

Venn reading
Kafka posts : Kafka and Zippy posts : Zippy posts (Pinboard)

Zippy, Spivey, and Tormé

[Zippy, February 23, 2018.]

Griffy has accused Zippy of conjuring up “this seventies guy.” The seventies guy has asked Zippy to pray with him and “wash th’ 1980s away.” Zippy suspects that the guy may be a televangelist.

Zippy is on the right track: the seventies guy looks like a brown-haired incarnation of Gary Spivey, a self-described psychic, medium, and spiritual healer. Spivey appeared in three 2004 Zippy strips: this one, this one, and this one, each time sporting his signature helmet-like white wig.

Mel Tormé too has played a small role in the Zippy world. A 2016 strip namechecks Tormé. Two 1995 strips — this one and this one — have something to do with him. Alas, both strips are offline. It’s the second 1995 strip that might explain why Griffy considers Mel Tormé Spivey’s “diametric opposite.” The strip’s title: “Mel Is Good.” Mel Tormé was a genuine showman, with genuine talent. Bill Griffith must like his work.

As did my dad. We played this recording at his memorial.

Related reading
All OCA Zippy posts (Pinboard) : Mel Tormé and the NYT crossword : Mel Tormé on the vagaries of performance

[You can read Zippy daily at Comics Kingdom. “The Velvet Fog”: Tormé’s Homeric epithet.]

Comic books and Post headlines

In case you missed it: Dunning K. Trump’s picture of a safe school includes his chief of staff John Kelly as a gun-toting history teacher. “He’s a four-star Marine. He’s a tough cookie,” says Trump:

“So if he’s a teacher and if other friends of his from the Marines, if they’re teaching, or other people like that, I want them to have a gun. But more importantly, almost more importantly, nobody is going to attack that school, because they know General Kelly is the history teacher. He’s teaching about how we win wars, okay? And he’s got a concealed weapon. But they’re gonna know he’s got a concealed weapon, because we tell them that the bullets are going to be flying in the other direction.”

Trump’s masculinist dream is partly the stuff of a comic book (everyday fellow with secret powers, including perfect aim), partly the stuff of a New York Post headline (Retired General Takes Down Sicko).

If you don’t believe my transcription, watch here.