Hi and Lois watch

[Hi and Lois, November 19, 2021. Click for a larger view.]

I am puzzled by the painting to the far left. Is it meant to suggest a recognizable work of art?

I am puzzled by today’s gradient. It’s one thing for a wall to be rendered with a gradient (happens often in this strip); it’s another for a wall to blend into a floor.

I am not puzzled by the green wall and blue sofa. That’s easy: the Flagstons are using a set left over from an Almodóvar movie.

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Extremism and “humor”

“They can talk about violence, they can advocate for violence, and then say, ‘Well, it was just a joke’”: from a Washington Post article on white supremacists, coded language, and “humor.“ Members of Congress should be thinking about these matters when thinking about threats from Paul (“It’s a cartoon”) Gosar — and from anyone else.

Coffee and “the shipping situation”

[As the world anticipates coffee shortages — due, this time, to supply-chain problems and climate.]

[Life, October 19, 1942. Click for a larger view.]

 The original scan (available in Google Books) has a bright green line running at a slant through the ad. I used the free service Cleanup.pictures to remove it. Not a perfect fix, but better than my attempt at copying and pasting little strips of photograph. The pictures to the left show the original and the Cleanup.pictures version.

I found this advertisement from the Pan-American Coffee Bureau while looking (as usual) for something else. The bureau has made two previous appearances in these pages, each time with a memorable slogan: “Give yourself a coffee-break” and “How about some good hot coffee?”

And speaking of good hot coffee — sheesh, just keep any extra coffee for later drinking. There’s no need for jelly.

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[Extra-credit question: What is that guy looking at?!]

Dave Frishberg (1933–2021)

Pianist, singer, songwriter extraordinaire. The New York Times has an obituary.

A few Frishberg songs I like
“Do You Miss New York?” : “I’m Hip” (co-written with Bob Dorough) : “My Attorney Bernie” : “Sweet Kentucky Ham” : “Van Lingle Mungo”

[I bet Tom Waits has listened to “Sweet Kentucky Ham.”]

Aaugh!

On CNN, a legal commentator twice just referred to someone “toeing the line” to suggest disobedience. She should’ve said “overstepping.”

And a minute or two later, the same commentator referred to someone “honing in.” No, “homing in.”

How to improve writing (no. 97)

From today’s Washington Post :

Jacob Chansley, whose brightly painted face, tattooed torso and horned cap became a visual icon of the Jan. 6 attack on the U.S. Capitol, was sentenced Wednesday to 41 months in prison by a federal judge in Washington. His lawyer had asked the judge to impose a sentence of time already served, basically the entire 10 months since the insurrection, during which Chansley attracted more attention for demanding an organic diet while in jail and giving an interview to “60 Minutes.”

~ “A visual icon”: It’s not the parts that are an icon; it’s the whole, and here, “visual” is clearly implied. The judge got it right: “He made himself  the image of the riot” (my emphasis).

~ “Wednesday to,” &c.: The sequence of elements here could be improved, with the most important element falling at the end of the sentence. That change will also break up the chain of four prepositional phrases.

~ “His lawyer”: Whose? Obviously, that’s Chansley’s lawyer, but it wouldn’t hurt to bring the name in.

~ “Basically the entire”: That phrasing is basically slack.

~ “For”: I’d say that he attracted attention by doing those things.

~ “While in jail”: the sentence has already established the location.

Better:

Jacob Chansley, whose brightly painted face, tattooed torso and horned cap made him an icon of the Jan. 6 attack on the U.S. Capitol, was sentenced by a federal judge in Washington Wednesday to 41 months in prison. Chansley’s lawyer had asked the judge to impose a sentence of time already served — the 10 months since the insurrection — during which Chansley attracted more attention by demanding an organic diet and giving an interview to “60 Minutes.”

All I planned to write about when I started: “a visual icon.” As usual, looking closely at one detail led me to notice others.

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[I’d add a serial comma (“torso, and horned cap”), italicize “60 Minutes,” and write out January, forty-one, and ten, but it’s not my newspaper. This post is no. 97 in a series dedicated to improving stray bits of public prose.]

Short-term memory

The House of Representatives just finished debating a resolution to censure Paul Gosar (R, AZ-4) for his recent animation effort. Republicans complained about taking time to debate this resolution. If they were unhappy about that, there could have been an easy way to speed things up. Republicans complained too about Democratic (or as they prefer to say, “Democrat”) inaction on all matters save this one.

But wait a sec — didn’t the president sign some kinda big bill a couple of days ago?

[I notice that Representative Jackie Walorski (R, IN-2) did not grant additional time to at least two of her more colorful (i.e., unhinged) colleagues. If I had seen the entire debate, I would have kept a scorecard.]

Recently updated

Words of the year Now with strollout.

At the bus terminal

Elaine and I were finding our way out of a bus terminal. I was carrying two suitcases, the old-fashioned kind, one under my right arm, one in my right hand, so as to leave my other hand free. We exited at ground level and found ourselves in a small parking lot, enclosed by a ten- or twelve-foot-high grassy slope. Elaine tried to scale it and slid down, her dress now covered in mud. I told her to hold on and said I would try to find an elevator. And there was one — right by the door through which he had exited. We had overlooked it.

I pressed a button and stepped into what looked like a large, well-lit room — very large, like a museum gallery. There were four or five younger people already there. The elevator began going up, and I noticed that there were no numbers for floors. “You should invite him to the wedding,” said one woman to another. “Sorry,” I said, “I’m already married, and my wife just slid down the slope outside.” They looked away from me. I turned to an enormous man to my left, both broad and tall. “She was supposed to ask, ‘How long have you been married?’” I said. “When you tell someone you’re married, they’re supposed to ask.” He just looked at me.

When I exited the elevator, at ground level again, Elaine was waiting. Her dress had been washed clean by the rain that was now falling.

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[Possible sources: a story from Alan Alda’s Clear + Vivid podcast about Arlene Alda traveling with two small suitcases, Elaine shortening a tunic, the room-in-an-elevator in the Karloff–Lugosi movie The Raven, arguments about social protocol in Curb Your Enthusiasm, the muddy puddles of Peppa Pig.]

No wind, no rain

A new episode of the BBC’s Soul Music , the first one in some time, is devoted to Nickolas Ashford and Valerie Simpson’s “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough.”

I just listened while walking and wondered: was this the first time I was going to listen to Soul Music without tearing up? With three-and-a-half minutes to go, I found out.