Category: junk thought

Where The Bodies Are Buried

Tree Line
A member of the Relic Radio forums brought this article to my attention, and, since reading it, it’s had a terrible grip on my imagination:

The brothers first heard about Duffy’s Cut from their grandfather, a railroad worker, who told the ghost story to his family every Thanksgiving. According to local legend, memorialized in a file kept by the Pennsylvania Railroad, a man walking home from a tavern reported seeing blue and green ghosts dancing in the mist on a warm September night in 1909.

“I saw with my own eyes, the ghosts of the Irishmen who died with the cholera a month ago, a-dancing around the big trench where they were buried; it’s true, mister, it was awful,” the documents quote the unnamed man as saying. “Why, they looked as if they were a kind of green and blue fire and they were a-hopping and bobbing on their graves… I had heard the Irishmen were haunting the place because they were buried without the benefit of clergy.”

[…]

Two weeks ago, a new piece of evidence came up from the ground at Duffy’s Cut: A skull with a perforation that could be a bullet hole. “In fact, we can see some nice cracked edges that do look very much like a bullet hole,” Monge observed. – CNN

Maybe this is just a ghost story ingrained in family tradition – I do love the idea that some kernel of truth wrapped in an oral history carried on data that was unknown to the stacks of documentation every modern zoning, purchase or construction creates – but my mind can’t get over the fact that it might be something darker.

What if it does turn out these men were murdered? What if a fun family custom actually originated when Great-Grandfather Watson began spinning tales to commemorate the graves he himself had dug?

What if the self-aggrandizement of a long dead serial killer now leads to the discovery of his previously undocumented crimes?

Meet The Parental Units

I’m not terribly well versed in modern combat vehicles, but I found the following chain of causality pretty interesting.

The picture below is of a Stryker, produced by General Dynamic Land Systems, a combat vehicle recently in the news for being the buggy of choice for the last American combat unit to leave Iraq.
Stryker

– and this is its Papa, the Canadian LAV III, also produced by General Dynamic Land Systems.
LAV III

Finally, here’s grandpa, the Swiss Piranha IIIC, produced by MOWAG.
Piranha IIIC

It’s interesting to see how much intermingling of equipment is going on – but I do find it funny that Canadians seem to have been thoroughly out-pizazzed, even by the Swiss, in naming their iteration.

Also, I was glad to see a different manufacturer for the Piranha. I was becoming concerned that General Dynamic was some sort of shadowy skynet-style arms manufacturer.

The MOWAG Piranha is a family of armoured fighting vehicles designed by the Swiss MOWAG (since April 2010 the name has changed to General Dynamics European Land Systems – Mowag GmbH), corporation. – wikipedia

Bill Pickett Took No Lip

Recently, BMJ2k, (of Mr Blog’s Tepid Ride,) and I, were discussing stetsons and social status, when he made the excellent point that most famous cowboys weren’t cowboys at all, they were largely lawmen, murderers, or thieves.

Bill Pickett, from www.williamson-county-historical-commission.org

Not so of Bill Pickett, however. He may have become a leading light of the wild west shows, but, according to his brother at least, he got his start at home:

Dora Scarbrough, in her book “Land of Good Water” relates […] On moonlit nights he would go out there and get on a horse and bulldog. {His parents} caught him at it and brought those cattle {nearer the house} to practice bulldogging so the younger children could see it.” – Texas Escapes

A romantic beginning to an event that would make Pickett famous, but what exactly does Bulldogging entail?

Even if someone else got the bright idea to subdue an unruly steer by jumping on it and biting its lip, that person never admitted it. History gives the distinction to Bill Pickett[…] – Texas Escapes

There’s an authenticity to chomping down on the frothing mouth of a rampaging cow that you don’t often see in today’s spectacles.

Bill Pickett, with bitten cow subdued. (Image found at NegroArtist.com)

Getting It

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o9wRxW7v1LA]

It may well be the case that the intelligentsia are far ahead of me, but I wanted to take a moment to complain about something I perceive as an oversimplification in popular science.

Why did dinosaurs have feathers and giant skin-sails? Mating.

Why do birds sing and dance? Mating.

Why does a Hippo spin its tail at high speeds while using it to fling poop everywhere? Mating.

Extrapolating from that kind of thinking, Straight Edgers are just self-milking bull teets, which strikes me as an unfair characterization.

Why do folks shave their hair into a Mohawk?

Why do people choose to drive Escalades?

Why does a married man wear too much cologne to the office?

I think mating is often the easy answer to a more socially complex question.

The Grumbling Of A Paranoiac Bound For Vacation

This is likely to end up in Mulligan’s mouth at some point, but I just wanted to briefly touch on my distaste for hotel rooms with mag card locking systems. I don’t know what standards hotels hold themselves to regarding the security of the cards, but it seems to me that any 8 year old can buy a mag card encoder off of ebay and, if the general sloppiness surrounding hotel internet access is any indication, I have a bad feeling that the protection depends heavily on the supposed exotic nature of a system developed in the late ‘60s.

A Fine Patch Of Swamp

I’m out and about on an adventure, but I wanted to share my new Big Idea: a time-travel realtors office.

Ever wanted to live in a pre-firebombed Tokyo? How about a three bedroom bungalow in Pompeii, before the deadly rain of ash? Why not buy a chalet in the Mesozoic – the view is fantastic, and the fishing can’t be beat.

Now I just need to hire Ricky Roma and watch the gold bullion roll in.

G'morning

If Willy Loman had been born a carpenter, would he have longed to be a farmer? If he’d been raised to farm, would he have wished himself a nomadic forager? If Willy’d been a plainsman hunting gazelle, would he dream of a more honest life as a tree dweller?

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zI5hrcwU7Dk]

Welcome to Friday.

Country Living (In The Grass)

Can you identify what this is?

(Quick hint: it wasn’t that flat until it had suffered through some farmer’s traffic.)
Flat Snake Cage?

Here’s the lid, if that helps:

Snake Cage Lid?

I could be wrong, but I believe it’s an abandoned snake enclosure. It isn’t the first I’ve come across while on a country stroll*.

My best guess – based on the fact that it appears the former owners simply cracked the lid and ran – is that the size of the thing had gotten to a point where it worried them, so they released it into the “wilds” of a corn field.

I’m glad that whatever it was (baby Burmese Python?) is now slithering about somewhere on my block.

The truth is, these people may as well have taken a rock and cracked the poor bugger’s skull open. This is no easy area for an exotic pet to be wandering.

*At least this one was relatively small.

Meanwhile, Back At Old Joe's Barroom

So, I was bopping along with my headphones on, and I got a concept stuck in my craw:

When I die, want you to dress me in straight laced shoes
A box back coat and a Stetson hat;
Put a twenty-dollar gold piece on my watch chain
So the boys know I died standin’ pat.

Louis Armstrong’s version of St. James Infirmary

Which struck me, as I’d just finished listening to:

“Stagger Lee,” said Billy,
“I can’t let you go with that.
“You have won all my money,
“And my brand-new Stetson hat.”

Lloyd Prices’ Stagger Lee

While I’ve a long familiarity with Stetsons, I hadn’t realized they were once considered a status symbol.

Stetson produced a very expensive hat. The Cowboy riding the range wearing that “Boss of the Plains” hat showed the world that he was doing well. “Within a decade the name John B. Stetson became synonymous with the word “hat,” in every corner and culture of the West.” – wikipedia

An easy enough concept, even for a city dweller. In my youth it was high-end sneakers, and, in my adulthood, I know plenty of folks who drive cars as a mark of status, and not as a device that transports them from location to location.

The thing is, Stetsons were obviously originally marketed to cowboys – who exactly were they attempting to impress, out on the range?

An interesting side-note:

According to Win Blevins’ Dictionary of the American West (p388), the term “ten-gallon” has nothing to do with the hat’s liquid capacity, but derives from the Spanish word galón (braid), ten indicating the number of braids used as a hat band. – wikipedia