Fool your friends

Have you heard of puzzle jugs? They were essentially joke shop fare, regardless of whether there were actual joke shops back then. The most popular tended to be something like a dribble glass. The unwary toper would lift them to take a drink, and then find himself drenched.  But there were other variations. According to Kovel's American Antiques (2004 edition):

One jug, the simplest of puzzles, had a frog on the bottom. When the unwary tippler drank his grog, the frog appeared―a startling, lifelike visitor. Many hard drinkers must have had a real fright from this jug.

The urge to prank goes back far, further than this entry might indicate. It's a healthy instinct, in the right context. One hopes that the wags have not been forever stilled.

Penned up

Out of curiosity, and looking around for ideas, I've been doing some research into inventions that either never caught on, or which had their day and then were forgotten. This search led me to the baby cage, which was an eye opener.

The theory behind it was that babies and very young children need fresh air, and needed to be exposed to the elements in order to give them a healthy metabolism. This is true. The developers also said that not all families have sufficient outdoor room as part of their homes. This was true then and is very much true now.

The solution was a small structure, enclosed but open to the air, aka a cage. And it was to be placed outside the window. It raises questions. How firmly is the cage attached to the building's facade? How much do you trust the structural integrity of the cage itself. These are important matters, given how high some of the cages were placed. 

In any case, enough parents had enough anxiety about dangling their babies out the window that the fad soon died out. In retrospect it seems like an imperfect and perhaps unworkable solution to an ongoing problem. In the real world there probably isn't one fix that will work for everyone.

Artist of the Second World

 

Aleksandr Gerasimov was not just a Russian artist, he was a Soviet artist. It's not a coincidental distinction. He was intimately tied to the regime during its most autocratic stage. Aside from some operatic depictions of Lenin, he also painted official portraits of Stalin, some of which could make one wonder whether Gerasimov had to paint them over to erase apparatchiks who had fallen out of favor.

But whatever his political role, he was still an artist. A very good one, too. "Boat Trip", seen above, has long been one of his most sought-after works. Several kinds of sensuality are at work here. The mist and spray that rise from the water feel real enough to make you think of the way flecks of cool water feel on the skin. There are also the Russian women relaxed in the sun, one extending her legs, the other leaning forward into the wind. They're mostly turned away from us, enrapt in a grand picture of their own. The man had a real feel for his subjects.

Message received

Now here's kind of a strange incident. Yesterday I was checking my email. I saw what was apparently an email sent by a friend of mine. It didn't really say anything, though. There was just a screenshot jpeg that I was apparently supposed to look at. Which I could only do by downloading it.

Said friend hadn't said that he was going to send me anything like this. (Like what? Exactly.) If he did mail me some kind of image he'd almost certainly give me a hint as to what it was, either saying so beforehand or putting something in the body of the email. The clincher was that the email had been sent at 11:30, when he'd be at work. There was just no way.

I deleted it, of course. There have been times before when spambots have poorly imitated people I knew. The "get me to download stuff" part was new, though. They must be getting older and assuming everyone is stupider.

Wise guys?

It's hard not to notice a certain pattern in the videos and―more importantly―the people that YouTube promotes to me.

Sam Harris: Uses fake erudition in the defense of the kind of bigotry you can practice just as well without literacy.

Neil DeGrasse Tyson: Undoubtedly an intelligent man in person, but never produces anything but thought terminating clichés.

Adam Conover: The show title "Adam Ruins Everythng" is the kind of self-deprecation you practice when you think highly of yourself.

I'd gotten used to classing them as the stupid person's idea of a smart person, but then it hit me: There's no other kind.

The purpose of smart people at this point is to keep you stupid. Intelligence is indeed not just the memorization of facts and figures. It starts with questioning things. It continues with being able to see those questions through. No one really wants a bunch of people who are smart by those criteria. The safest thing is just to give them a bunch of false idols.

...but a hero nonetheless

Doing a crossword today I came across the name of Jim Thorpe. It made me think of what I'd originally learned about Thorpe in school.

Thorpe had a distinguished athletic career in school and outside of it. This led to him competing in the 1912 Olympics in Stockholm, in the Pentathlon and Decathlon events. He won gold in both events, an impressive achievement by any standard. But when his past playing baseball in the Eastern Carolina League went public, the International Olympic Committee rescinded his medals.

I'd always learned of this as a racist institution dismissing the achievements of a Native American athlete. But there's a problem with this interpretation. The IOC was right. The ban on professional athletes in the Olympics exists, and it's there for a reason, the US's absurd decision more recently to populate its basketball teams entirely with NBA champs notwithstanding. To be fair to Thorpe, the sport he had professionally played in was not an exact match for the Olympic events in which he participated, so there was ambiguity on his end. But the decision was the right one.

What does this prove? Only that rushes to judgment can happen in any direction.

Headscratcher

"Fade In to Murder", the episode that kicked off Columbo's sixth season, is weird. You might know it as the one where a TV detective actor kills the producer of his show and plays at being his character for real as Columbo digs into him. What's weird about it is that it works when it shouldn't. Not to the point of being an all-time classic, but it's certainly enjoyable. Despite having many factors that could potentially sink it.

Despite what some might say, William Shatner's performance is not one of these potentially fatal flaws. He tones his trademark hamminess down enough to be a quite credible murderer. High marks also go to the other major players: Bert Remsen as Shatner's addled alibi; and Lola Albright, much icier than she had been on Peter Gunn as the murder victim.

What does present a problem is the lack of challenge. At the end of the day, Columbo is a cat and mouse game where the cat seems very dim but still catches the mouse. If the criminal doesn't seem up to it, there's no payoff. Case in point "The Most Dangerous Match", where Laurence Harvey's paranoid chess player is too off the wall crazy to get the job done right and the story drags as a result.

If Ward Fowler's (Shatner) crazy act is just an act, he is in fact very stupid. He stages the murder as a robbery but uses his own voice in front of both the victim and a witness. He also leaves his ski mask disguise lying around smeared with actor's makeup. If Columbo's near-constant laughter isn't lack of discipline on the part of Peter Falk, it might indicate that the Lieutenant can't even pretend to take this guy seriously.

There are other pitfalls. The parallels between Fowler's show and Columbo itself are clever but get used too much. And the evidence that finally allows Columbo to get his man is just dropped in at the end without being introduced beforehand.

So why does the episode work? It might be because the cast and crew had built up enough energy that they could coast for a while. Or it could be something else entirely. Art sometimes rises and falls on mysterious bases.