No “Global Warming Is for Real.” Orbital Stretching Is the Real Real Problem.

You have heard me say it before: celebrities like Charlie Sheen and Al Gore have a lot to answer for. At best, their drum-beating about so-called global warming has distracted all of us from the real problem our planet faces: orbital destabilization – or as the talking heads would say, “orbital stretching.”

At worst, Lindsay Lohan and Madonna and their ilk are guilty of knowingly profiting from a serious problem, in which Earth’s orbit decays and we go spinning (eventually) into the sun. Aaaaah!

Ignore scientific facts for a moment. Focus your attention on Panel No. 1 of the Scientific Diagram above, which clearly shows Earth’s stable orbit around our sun.

As you see, the Earth orbits the Sun in an elliptical path which has been unvaried for millions if not hundreds of years. Just as naturally, this elliptical orbit means that our Earth’s position vis-à-vis the sun changes throughout the year. Normally, Earth is closest to the Sun (147.3 million km) at perihelion; and farthest from the Sun at aphelion (152.1 million km).

PhysicalGeography.net notes, “…this phenomenon is not responsible for the Earth’s seasons!” This is clearly incorrect. Isn’t it obvious that the further we are from the Sun, the colder we’ll be? And the closer we are, the hotter? Duh!

Now consider Panel No. 2 which slightly dramatizes the terminal danger of orbital stretching. This is what we are experiencing now. Earth’s orbit is straining like an elephant’s BVDs. Our old aphelion’s stretching out farther and farther to the left. Because there is a limited amount of elastic available in the universe (see A Einstein on warping of space here), our planetary orbit’s beginning to look like that same elephant’s underwear after too many wash cycles.

Nobody knows what’s causing this terrifying out-of-waistband experience. Everyday orbital decay doesn’t explain it satisfactorily. And while you can read about stretch marks all you like, medicated creams WILL NOT cure our planet’s orbital degradation problem – trust me.

So never you mind what so-called scientists like Michael Mann, the director of the Penn State Earth System Science Center, say about so-called global warming. Do your own thinking about what’s going to happen when our planet’s stretchy orbit plunges us all into the Sun. That’s SZZT! for us.

Someday you’ll thank me for letting you read about orbital stretching. In a million years or so, we’re going to need way more than five tubes of SPF 3000 sunblock. And it’s now on the Internet so it must be true.

Feds Nationalize “Avatar,” Intend Film Earnings to Cover TARP Shortage.

Declaring that “All your revenue are belong to us,” President Barack Obama announced that the US government was nationalizing James Cameron and his entire production team. In a Rose Garden news conference today, the President predicted that the runaway box office earner would support his administration “for years to come.”

“Avatar” is a fantasy film by Cameron. It was released in cinemas on December 16, 2009. Until this movie’s premier, another film by Cameron, “Titanic,” has been News Corp’s highest grossing film worldwide (and, yes, the highest grosser of any film ever) at $600.8 million.

The new film features tall blue aliens, not Leonardo diCaprio. It earned $30 million over this past weekend alone, according to studio estimates, with its domestic (US) total reaching $594.5 million.

Nationalization is the act of taking an industry or assets into public ownership by a national government. Some nations hold that no compensation is due, based on socialist notions of private properties, so Fox Studios, News Corp and other so-called “owners” of the film are completely screwed.

In Washington, a speaker for US Department of Agriculture has said the administration also intends to use the studio’s marketing arm to help sell General Motors vehicles for the next two years. “We’re going to figure out how to sell those Chevrolets,” said Deputy Undersecretary for Marketing and Regulatory Programs Ann Wright, “and we plan to use the world’s best marketers to do it!”

The nationalization process is the responsibility of the USDA because McDonalds restaurants are using “Avatar” toys in their Happy Meals.

USDA budgets, however, rarely equal those of consumer marketers. How much did the “Avatar” production team spent on marketing, advertising and licensing? Chud.com’s Devin Faraci has noted, “The $400 million number doesn't include marketing, which is going to be monstrous for this film – well over $100 million in marketing, easily.” American Public Media’s marketing program estimates that the number is even larger, $150 million. Due to film industry accounting methods, no one will ever know the real figure.

After the announcement, the White House indicated that the film revenues would be used to cover budget shortfalls but had “no comment” about the President’s new look.

Photo appeared on FreakingNews.com by opchrom of Independents. All rights reserved.

“Jesus is the Sticker on the Bumper of My Soul” Gets Real Lyrics.*

When your engine’s barely pulling
And the ride is kinda rough,
When your life is really feeling
Like it might be getting tough.

There’s a fine hands-on solution
Sure to ease the way you go:
Let the Lord be your mechanic!
He’s your all-time maintenance pro.

Well now Jesus is the sticker on the bumper of my soul.
He’s my whole trip’s ambition, the sum total of my goal.
And I’m getting better mileage from every tank of fuel
‘Cause my chassis’s free of evil and I know that I’m no fool.

Your lower tailgate panel
Could be dragging in the dirt.
You might find that some corrosion’s
Eaten out the engine skirt.

And that fender’s gotten dented
From your sinning, straying ways.
It is time you drove your spirit
To the good Lord’s service bays.

Well now Jesus is the sticker on the bumper of my soul.
He’s my whole trip’s ambition, the sum total of my goal.
And I’m getting better mileage from every tank of fuel
‘Cause my chassis’s free of evil and I know that I’m no fool.

Oh yes Jesus is the sticker on the bumper of my soul.
His Gospel is my owner’s guide, his Book my holy scroll.
He has polished out the wrinkles so it’s mighty clear to see
That I’m driving straight to glory, that my trip is heavenly.

*The song title was one of several created by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett for their novel Good Omens, published originally in 1990 and later updated. So the title is their property. However, these lyrics are ©2009, Richard Laurence Baron.

**Of the hundreds of related bumper stickers on the Web, I picked the one above because I’m tickled by the two-sentiment combo. Don’t get excited – it’s just a blog illustration.

Houston Copywriter Does Not Shy from New Self-Promotion Tactic.

Subject: Urgent Business Diversification Request

First, we must solicit your strictest confidence in this transaction. This is by virtue of its being utterly confidential and very “top secret.”

Second, your ability to consider the matter of this great opportunity involving a pending transaction requiring maximum confidence is recognized by all the nations of the world, so then naturally we must write to you.

We represent a top website writer of the nationwide business community who is interested in doing business with your company utilizing talents when are presently spellbound in a relationship with a single client. In order to commence this business I solicit your assistance to enable this copywriter to diversify with work on your account, liberating the aforementioned trapped writer.

The source of this capability is as follows. The present civilian government having emphasized “shovel-ready projects” as a top priority, so we have identified a lot of writing opportunities which are presently floating in the national business community ready for proceeding.

However, by virtue of the admirable person’s position as a copywriter of excellent magnitude who is closely involved with a client no matter how estimable, he cannot solicit business in his own name. We have therefore been delegated as a matter of trust by this worthy copywriter to look for business relationship partners outside the boundaries of Spring Branch, USA.

We have agreed to share the capabilities of this writer with you thus: 30% for the new account owner, 93% for us (the senders of this letter to you), 42% to be used in settling taxation and all local and foreign expenses, and 95% for the esteemed writer himself.

This transaction is 100% safe. We hope to commence this transaction with your fine selves latest seven (7) banking days from the date of the following information from you, namely, your company’s signed and stamped letterhead paper – it will enable us to write letters of claim and job description respectively. This way, we will use your company’s name to re-award the contract to the copywriter and apply for payment.

We are looking forward to doing this business with you. Please acknowledge the receipt of this letter – we will send detailed information about the copywriter when we have heard from you.

Yours in friendship international,

Dr Aron Bachir

PLEASE QUOTE THIS REFERENCE NUMBER (SJ/P/419/2009) IN ALL YOUR RESPONSES.

Note: This is a parody but the “Nigerian Scam” is no joke. It is named after the number of the article in the Nigerian constitution that deals with this fraud, 419. These scammers cheat more than 50,000 people a year out of their hard-earned savings. Get smarter: Read all about 419 here. (And thanks to Susan Reeves for the graphic.)

Parrot’s Joke

Two old guys, Abe and Sol, sat on a bench in a park feeding pigeons and talking about baseball, just like they did every day. Abe turns to Sol and says, “Do you think there's baseball in heaven?”

Sol thinks about it for a minute and replies, “I dunno, Abe. But let’s make a deal: If I die first, I will come back and tell you, and if you die first, you come back and tell me, if there is baseball in heaven.”

They shake on it and, sadly, a few months later poor Abe passes on. One day soon afterward, Sol is sitting there feeding the pigeons by himself when he hears a voice whisper, “Sol... Sol....”

Sol responds, “Abe! Is that you?”

“Yes it is, Sol,” whispers the spirit of Abe.

Sol, still amazed, asks, “So, is there baseball in heaven?”

“Well,” says Abe, “I got good news and I got bad news.”

“Gimme the good news first,” says Sol.

Abe replies, “Well...there is baseball in heaven.”

Sol says, “That's great! What news could be bad enough to ruin that!?”

Abe sighs and whispers, “You're pitching on Friday.”

I cribbed this from the Galveston Parrot, “the Gulf Coast’s Favorite Newspaper.” It was too good not to share, so thanks to the Parrot.

Scroll Reveals!

In a copyrighted article last week, reporter Jim Warren announced that an engineering professor at the University of Kentucky would use X-Ray CT scanning to read interior images of a scroll that had been carbonized by the eruption of Italy’s Mount Vesuvius almost 2,000 years ago.

The Italian volcano blew up in 79 AD and buried the Roman towns of Pompeii and Herculaneum under tons of super-heated ash and rock in one of the most notorious eruptions in history. Thousands of people and animals died. Unbelievably, hundreds of papyrus scrolls survived, tightly rolled up but turned into charcoal, in a Herculaneum mansion. These scrolls were so badly damaged that they crumbled when scholars first tried to open them centuries later.

Now, thanks to hundreds of man-hours and thousands of dollars in computer time, the Kentucky professor and his team have digitally unrolled one precious scroll (see top right) on a computer screen so scholars can read it. The first ancient words revealed are:

After months and months of auditions, Britannia phenom Flavia Publia Nimachis is once again competing on the big Forum stage of Rome’s Got Talent.

Yes, she's got a new makeover courtesy of our own Celerinius Fortunatus here in Herculaneum. Yes, she made it through to the finals.

Hundreds of fans have painted themselves blue in adulation of the Pictish Publia, and will descend on Rome-Sweet-Rome in the Ides of Maius to see her perform in the finals. We hope she will show the spark that made her a word-of-mouth superstar throughout Mare Nostrum.

It’s a triumph of scientific archeology, all right.

“Herculaneum Scroll, Extra-Crispy” photo: David Stephenson.

Guns, Roses

Bless their pointy heads, lobbyists up there in the People's Democratic Republic of Austin [PDRA] are at it again. This time there’s a terrific ad opportunity for some brave company. The Houston Chronicle obtained the data under state open-record laws and has reported on our little problem several times, including today:

For the men, it’s pistols and venison. For the women, flowers and spa treatments. Around the Texas Capitol, gifts are a custom — and lobbyists are buying.

According to the paper, lobbyists delivered 124 flower bouquets; 120 sets of circus tickets (go figure); 70 cookie packets – and 66 pistols. Now let’s ignore two conflicting opinions for the moment. One, our elected officials ought not be taking gifts, lunches or junkets in any way shape or form. The other, an occasional bunch of flowers seems pretty harmless. (But there’s a slippy-slidy slope involved here.) I see…headlines!

“Ruger: The Representatives’ Choice.”

“Give the gift of firearms – Lobbyists do.”

“A dozen roses? A dozen State Senators can’t be wrong.”

I see ads, like the one above. The Texas Ethics Commission says gifting is not a good idea. But since everyone in the Lege thinks it’s okay, let’s make advertising out of it. Ta...

Ad by Prism Design, Inc., with my thanks. Suck UK ceramic gun vase from A+R.

Bankers’ Joke

Three bankers and three engineers are traveling by train to Washington to testify before Congress (different committees). At the station, the three bankers each buy a ticket, then watch as the three engineers only buy one ticket.

“How are three people going to travel on only one ticket?” asks one of the bankers. “Watch and you’ll see,” answered an engineer.

They all board the train. The bankers take their respective seats but all three engineers cram into a restroom and close the door behind them. Shortly after the train leaves the station, the conductor comes around collecting tickets. He knocks on the restroom door and says, “Tickets, please!” The door opens just a crack and a single arm emerges with a ticket in hand. The conductor takes it and moves on.

The bankers see this and agree it is a clever idea. So after the hearings, the bankers decide to copy the engineers on the return trip and save some money. When they get to the station, they buy one ticket for the return trip. To their astonishment, the engineers don’t buy a ticket at all.

“How are you going to travel without a ticket?” says one puzzled banker. “Watch and you’ll see.” answered an engineer.

They board the train and all three bankers jam into a restroom. The three engineers? They cram into another one nearby. The train departs. Shortly afterward, one of the engineers leaves his restroom and walks over to the restroom where the bankers are hiding. He knocks on the door and says, “Tickets, please!”

Or is this an engineers’ joke? Either way, it came across the Internet. Maybe it explains why I do more work for engineering firms than banks.

“Lunch Bags”

And not just any old Lunch Bags neither, but a 2003 vintage.

Barbara leaned into the library the other night and said with a big smile, “Want some Lunch Bags?” and held up the bottle – I laughed out loud. We opened it and consumed the whole bottle with relish (really, with hamburgers). I suppose we should be more discerning but we’re laughing and drinking; what are you doing?

Okay. Okay. It reminds me of a joke. I think Barbara will appreciate it ‘cause it’s called “Who is the Smarter Sex.”

A man and a woman get into a car accident, and it's a bad one. Both cars are totally demolished. Amazingly, though, neither of them is hurt. After they crawl out of their cars, the woman says, “Wow! Just look at our cars. There’s nothing left of them. But we’re just fine. It’s a sign from God that we should meet and be friends and live together in peace the rest of our days.”

The man replied, “I agree with you completely. This must be a sign from God!”

The woman continued, “And look – here’s another miracle. My car is completely demolished but this bottle of Lynch Bages Grand Cru Classé didn't break. Certainly God wants us to drink this wine and celebrate our good fortune.”

Then she hands the bottle to the man. The man nods in agreement, opens the bottle of “Lunch Bags” and takes a few big swigs. Then he hands it back to the woman.

The woman takes the bottle, immediately puts the cork back in, and hands it back to the man. The man asks, “Aren’t you having any?”

The woman replies, “No. No. I think I’ll wait for the police.”

Philippe Holtzweiler‎ brought our now-empty bottle of Lunch Bags as a house gift the last time he visited Houston. I have to remember to tell him about the smarter sex.

Hurricane Waiting

“Hurricane Ike poised to slam into the Gulf,” in case you’ve missed this. As a good blogger, I should help you understand that it’s entirely motivated by politics. True fact. Otherwise, why would the liberal-leaning media label this 100-mph blast of hot air Ike? Remember? Dwight Eisenhower, 34th President of these United States? A Republican. Well!

The timing is dadgummed suspicious: Right before the presidential elections…okay, not right before, but really, really close. And let’s not overlook Ike’s target which is Texas, a Republican stronghold if there ever was one (not counting The People’s Republic of Austin, which I don’t). Well.

I don’t want to add to the general ruckus. It’s the car manufacturers who will benefit most from this season’s string of “uncontrollable” hurricanes and tropical depressions. Toyota has already started its guerrilla marketing campaign with a Bizarro cartoon – I noticed the company’s promoting its Prius, of course, for gas efficiency in case you are evacuating the area. (Thanks to Barbara, we’re already covered there, don’t you worry about us.)



Well. We’ll just have to see who’s laughing on Sunday, eh?

Cartoon © 2008 Dan Piraro. All Rights Reserved.

Spicier Print

When Procter and Gamble added actor Neil Patrick Harris to its list of pitchmen for its tried-and-true Old Spice deodorant, it took the brand makeover one more step onward and upward.

Old Spice has become more hip and more current by enlisting comic actors like Will Ferrell and Bruce Campbell as pitchmen – Harris is the latest with the quite nice TV spots you can watch (carefully) here on YouTube: “You DON’T have to be a doctor to recommend it.” An entire bloat of bloggers have commented on the Harris commercials, not least because Procter has reversed the manly play by adroitly enlisting this particular actor.

Better than the TV commercials, go to the Old Spice website and attend the brand’s TV School of Medicine…really outstanding. You can get your own hospital doctor’s badge by answering just a few questions. (Well, really you only have to answer one question – but it’s sorta hard.)

What’s most enjoyable, though, is the supporting print ad that’s running in leading-edge magazines like, say, WIRED. Most of the time in Ad-Land, the broadcast is hilarious while the print work just sits there. The art director for this ad, though, managed to get the hilarity of the TV spot condensed to a single page and you have time to really look it over. Harris’s casual hand-in-pocket look, stethoscope neatly placed on the patient’s nose – what better way to highlight “the torment of chronic body odor and wetness.”

Harris’s badge reads: Health Center Medical Hospital Center. (It must be a great place.) The Old Spice script is cut off at the bottom of the ad like old Cutty Sark advertising. And the copywriting’s not too bad, either.

The agency’s still Wieden and Kennedy. Want to enjoy the perks of being a would-be TV doctor? This ad’s perfectly tuned to help you get there. Seriously.

Steen’s Passalong

Yeshiva University decides to field a rowing team. Unfortunately, they lose race after race. They practice and practice for hours every day. Still, they never manage to come in any better than dead last.

Finally, the team decides to send Morris Fishbein, its captain, to spy on Harvard, the perennial championship team. So Morris schleps off to Cambridge, MA, and hides in the bushes next to the Charles River, where he carefully watches the Harvard team at its daily practices.

After a week, Morris returns to Yeshiva. “Well, I figured out their secret,” he announces.

“What? Tell us! Tell us!” his teammates shout.

“We should have only one guy yelling. The other eight should row.”

Thanks for this old goldie to Michael Steen, who writes novels like The Barnabas Nickel under the pen name “Michael Sea.” Good Shabbos.

Bat Radarless

The Associated Press wired a story this morning about a newly discovered bat fossil. The fossilized remains answered a scientific question: When did bats gain their radar-like ability to navigate and locate airborne insects at night?

The answer is: After they started flying – as is evident to paleobiologists from this 152-million-year-old fossil.

This is well-known among avionics companies, however. A distant forerunner of existing airborne systems such as the E-10A aircraft’s Joint Surveillance Target Attack Radar System (Joint STARS) was ordered and installed in relatively early models of the bat family only as far back as 45 or 50 million years ago, according to Johann Flogl, airborne systems program manager for Raytheon. “The fossil microbat, Palaeochiropteryx tupaiodon, from Germany’s Messel deposits is over 45 million years old – there is an obvious installation, in fact.”

Although early contracts are no longer available for inspection, installations for a number of models of the Vespertilionidae family have been going on for millions of years. No information about the value of the orders for early airborne electronic systems is available.

Current airborne radar systems have far surpassed bats’ echo-location models; modern offensive radar can track evasive cars and wagons through city streets, and simultaneously track low-flying cruise missiles. Bats, on the other hand, have “ceased to be an economic market for most multi-national companies today,” says an anonymous spokesman for the US Defense Consortium.

The very early Wyoming bat lacks the airframe structure necessary to support the emission of “squeaky sounds” and the reception of resulting echoes. “This would have prevented a retrofit program. Too bat for him,” jokes Flogl.

Photo: Royal Ontario Museum and Nature.

Information Mismanagement*

The belt had broken on the household vacuum cleaner. The Husband knew that the part number was listed in the cleaner’s instruction manual.

Simple enough: find the manual, copy out the part number, and order it. The result would be a delivered part and a repaired vacuum cleaner. QED.

He looked for that manual in all the places where the couple filed paperwork; he was certain it was near to hand but couldn’t find it. He flipped through more files. When this failed, he called to his wife in the next room. “Dear, where’s the manual for the vacuum cleaner?”

The Wife responded, “Did you look in the file cabinet?”

“I’m in there right now.”

“It should be right in front of you,” said the Wife. “Did you look under ‘H’?”

“Huh?” The Husband shook his head. “Why not under ‘V’ for vacuum cleaner?”

“‘H’ – look under ‘H’,” the Wife called back.

The Husband wondered why the vacuum cleaner manual would be under ‘H’ - and then realized the Wife had filed the booklet under ‘H’ for ‘Hoover.’ And sure enough, he plucked out the ‘H’ file and found the manual.

He was quiet for a moment. Then: “Dear, you do realize that our vacuum cleaner is a Dyson?”

The withering silence was no more than he deserved.

*As told to Signalwriter. The Husband remains anonymous for obvious reasons.

Purina® Diet*

I have two dogs and I was buying a large bag of Purina at Wal-Mart and was in line to check out.

A woman behind me asked if I had a dog.

On impulse, I told her no: I was starting The Purina Diet again, though I probably shouldn’t because I’d ended up in the hospital last time, but that I’d lost 50 pounds before I awakened in an intensive care ward with tubes coming out of most of my orifices and IVs in both arms.

I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet. The way that it works is to load your pants pockets with Purina nuggets and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry. The food is nutritionally complete so I was going to try it again. (I have to mention here that practically everyone in the line was by now enthralled with my story, particularly a guy who was behind her.)

Horrified, she asked if I’d ended up in the hospital in that condition because I had been poisoned.

I said, “No. I was sitting in the street licking my balls and a car hit me.”

I thought one guy was going to have a heart attack – he was laughing so hard as he staggered out the door.

Stupid lady...why else would I buy dog food?!?

*This is a true story, according to its contributor. He has asked to remain anonymous. See how urban legends get started?

Hoven’s Joke

An old-time Southern, hellfire-and-brimstone country preacher had a teenage son, and it was getting time the boy should give some thought to choosing a profession. Like many young men, the boy didn’t really know what he wanted to do, and he didn’t seem too concerned about it.

One day, while the boy was away at school, his father decided to try an experiment. He went into the boy’s room and placed on his study table four objects: a Bible, a silver dollar, a bottle of Jim Beam whiskey and a Playboy magazine.

“I’ll just hide behind the door,” the old preacher said to himself. “When he comes home from school this afternoon, I’ll see which object he picks up.

“If it’s the Holy Bible, he’s going to be a preacher like me, and what a blessing that would be!

“If he picks up the dollar, he’s going to be a businessman, and that would be okay, too.

“But Lord, if he picks up the bottle, he’s going to be a no-good, low-down drunkard. What a shame that would be! And worst of all.... if he picks up that magazine, he’s gonna be a skirt-chasin’ no-good bum.”

The old man waited anxiously, and soon heard his son’s footsteps as he entered the house whistling and headed for his room. The boy tossed his books on the bed. As he turned to leave the room, he spotted the objects on the table. With curiosity in his eye, he walked over to inspect them.

Finally, he reached out and placed the Bible under his arm. He picked up the silver dollar, flipped it once in the air and dropped it into his pocket. Then he uncorked the bottle and took a big drink while he admired Playboy’s Miss July.

“Lord, have mercy!” the old preacher disgustedly whispered. “He’s gonna be a Congressman!”

There’s no gag like an old one, so thanks to Paul Hoven for this great story; and Wikipedia Commons for the photo.

Shy Cow

The only cow in a small town in Poland stopped giving milk. The villagers did some research and found they could buy a cow from Moscow for 2,000 rubles or a cow from Minsk for 1,000 rubles. Being poor, they bought the cow from Minsk.

The cow was wonderful. It produced lots of milk all the time. The people were amazed and very happy. They decided to acquire a bull to mate with the cow and produce more cows just like it. Then they would never have to worry about their milk supply again.

They bought the bull and put it in the pasture with their beloved cow. However, whenever the bull came close to the cow, the cow would move away. No matter what approach the bull tried, the cow from move away from the bull and he could not succeed in his quest.

The people were very upset. They decided to ask the Rabbi, who was very wise, what they should do. The people told the Rabbi, “Whenever the bull approaches our cow, she moves away. If he approaches from the back, she moves forward. If he approaches from the front, she backs off. When he approaches from the side, she walks away to the other side.”

The Rabbi thought about this for a moment and then asked the villagers, “Did you buy this cow from Minsk?”

The people were dumbfounded. They had never mentioned where they’d gotten the cow. One older villager said, “You truly are a wise Rabbi! How did you know we got the cow from Minsk?”

The Rabbi answered, “My wife is from Minsk.”

With thanks to Leigh Lerner, the wisest Rabbi I know.

Pumpkin Centrism

“Baptist Pumpkin Center” is today’s subject. I’m not the only person to notice the sign on I-12, the one that Barbara and I pass once or twice a year going around the New Orleans area, on our way to and from Atlanta. Thousands of drivers see it coming and going and it’s too much fun to pass up. Bill Rempel posted about it briefly here.

That would be Exit 35 on this short “intrastate” Interstate. It really does mark Pumpkin Road on the west side of Hammond (or Ponchatoula, depending on your point of view. Whatever.) It’s likely there are Baptists on Pumpkin here – although you’re more likely to find a bunch of them on Pecan here; Immanuel Baptist Church is on Pecan Street in Hammond.

Friends, I think today’s text is about opportunity. The Exit 35 sign is pretty specific: this here’s a Baptist Pumpkin Center. Not your Methodist or even your high-church Episcopalian Pumpkin Center. Certainly not your namby-pamby, ecumenical “Christian” Pumpkin Center. Down here north of New Orleans, there’s room in folks’ hearts for just one center of squash fruit, or Cucurbita Cucurbitaceae as pumpkinados persist in saying, and that’s the Baptist Pumpkin Center.

(Sigh. A pumpkinado is a person who’s a squash enthusiast – a fan – but that’s for another post.)

Other religions could have the own pumpkin centers. I’m surprised that the Catholic Church hasn’t already established its own pumpkin centers on a worldwide basis. There’d be a good deal more ceremony attached to these. Perhaps Brandeis University has established its own pumpkin center, a Jewish pumpkin center; or, since there’s already been a considerable effort to plant trees in Israel, a global effort to establish pumpkin centers in the Holy Land will soon appear in synagogue religious schools throughout the US. Then the issue of whether the patches would be Orthodox or Reform pumpkin centers would rear its unattractive head…pumpkins are kosher for Passover as far as I know.

Muslim pumpkin centers might suffer from the same kind of doctrinal split: Sunni or Shia? Buddhists might welcome the peaceful nature of their own pumpkin patches, wherein the Eight-fold Way could be contemplated.

I do not advocate proselytizing insofar as pumpkins are concerned – no. A person’s pumpkin preference ought to be his or her own, I say. So really, Pumpkin Centers could be like those all-faith chapels one sees in airports (praying that you aren’t trapped on a delayed flight can address any form of deity…and pumpkin).

It’s possible to blame this all on Charlie Brown and Linus’s search for the Great Pumpkin. But I’m thinking that “Pumpkin Centrism” is older than that, rooted deeply in America’s spiritual reawakening in the early 19th Century. And the Baptist Pumpkin Center in Louisiana is one of the last visible remnants of this nationwide urge toward gourdish worship practices.

Well, I thought this would be a good day to bring it all to your attention – and my thanks to “Lyria” (T A Noonan) for the photo. May the Great Pumpkin watch over you and keep you, no matter in what Center you worship.

American Chocolate

“Say, do you have a Chocolate cell phone?” You bet, buddy. Just click here and Creative Chocolates of Vermont will have one delivered – no contract, no hype:

This cellular phone is solid milk chocolate with white chocolate buttons (with all your basic keys). Designed to look just like a real cell phone, this delicious electrical wonder is the same size as a normal cell phone (5 inches x 2 inches x 1/2 inch; with an additional 1 inch antenna).

Please note that it was originally designed to compliment the company’s Roadside Construction Cone Basket – I gotta get me one of those. The company was created in 1982…so it’s safe to say it’s found a sweet spot in the choco-biz.

Still have a yen for a chocolate phone (aside from LG’s fancy model)? Just click here (see No. 17) or here. Personally, I think the Vermont company has the tastiest-looking technological treat. Personally, I think the Vermont company has the tastiest-looking technological treat.

Think of this post as an expansion on the recently expressed idea that someone may look at your cell phone and say, “Wow! That’s chocolate!” LG isn’t the only chocolate phone provider in the market. Think American: there’s a whole…candy store…out there for you to explore.

Coming soon: chocolate skulls! Ooooh!

Photo courtesy of Creative Chocolates of Vermont, with thanks.

Cigar Rhymes

Way back about 18 months ago, I ran across some verses I’d written during one of my cigar phases and published them here under the title “Stogie Limericks.” I found a couple of more today, so they’re my last burnt offerings from the old days. I promise.

The “doper” tribute:
Said an aficionado named Stilla,
“Cigar-smoking’s really a thrilla.
I get a big rush
From my head to my tush.
At this rate, who needs sensimilla?”

And the “racy” one:
An I-talian Miss known as Mona
Dated only big wheels from Verona.
Said, “In choice of erection,
I’ve got a selection:
Demi-tasse – Robusto – Corona.”