Saturday, January 13, 2018

A thing that happened today

Very thankful that we don't see things like this every day...

It also affected my little corner of the world,
covering sports events that can seem so meaningless.

Here's a strong piece of instant analysis and context provided by Ian Bogost of The Atlantic: "The Internet Broke Emergency Alerts"

And here's the entirety of a terrifying Twitter thread (starting with this tweet) from Max Fisher, a journalist at The New York Times:

You need to know the story of KAL-007, a Korean airliner shot down in 1983, to understand why those 38 minutes in Hawaii put the whole world in danger.

Soviet pilots shot KAL-007 down because they thought it was a military spy plane that’d deliberately entered Soviet territory (in fact it was civilian and a mistake). When they shot it down, killing 269 people, Washington said it’d been a mistake. But US officials also worried the whole thing could be a prelude to war.

Ironically, Soviet leaders in Moscow were the most terrified. They had fragmentary information about what was happening way out in its far east — much as DC is at a great remove from Hawaii — and could only trust what they were told: the Americans are lying, it was a spy plane.

The Americans knew that the Soviets were lying and thought: What are they up to? Is this meant to provoke a war? The Soviets “knew” that the Americans were lying and thought: they’re trying to create casus belli for a massive attack on us. The Americans in 1983 had been repeatedly threatening to launch some kind of attack on the USSR — just as the Trump admin is doing with North Korea today. Some in Moscow were convinced this was it, cover for what DC had promised to do. Some in Moscow, believing this was all a smokescreen for an imminent American attack, wanted to strike first. They had good reason to argue as much: if they were facing possibly extinction, better to launch first and maybe survive.

What made this especially dangerous is the nature and speed of missile-launched nuclear missiles gave the Soviets only a few minutes to guess — yes, guess — what the other side was doing and respond. Terrible pressure to fire before it was too late. Fortunately, cooler heads prevailed, but they might not have. The confusion over KAL-007 literally could’ve ended the world.

Imperfect information, mutual distrust, and minutes-long response times. They all existed in 1983 and only more so today.

Might North Korea have had reason to fear, if only for a moment, that the alarm was cover was a US attack on North Korea? Recall the US has been threatening such an attack for weeks. What if they’d said “this could be it, better launch to stop them before it’s too late?"

Nuclear weapons are unspeakably dangerous. But their greatest dangers come from uncertainty and human fallibility.

The Trump administration has deliberately engineered high levels of nuclear uncertainty on the Korean peninsula. Most think it’s a bluff. But this comes with risks. Even a relatively limited nuclear exchange would, according to some (highly theoretical) climate studies, bring global famine and "a decade without summer."

Ugh. Even the White House is confused as to whether this was an exercise or an error. If we have shoddy information about our own military's mix-up, how much more confused must the North Koreans be? At what point does their confusion become dangerous?

World's Fair advertisement for ancient Japanese Noh masks

This is a full-page advertisement for Toray (Toyo Rayon Company) that appears within the Official Guide New York World's Fair 1964/1965.

That Robert Moses "boondoggle" (as this historian writes) is perhaps the most documented and written about of the World's Fairs. Guides and postcards and pamphlets and advertising are easy to find. (A quick eBay search this morning returned more than 5,400 items, including Heinz pickle pins.) The best place to start delving into the history of the 1964-65 fair, if you want the rabbit hole of all rabbit holes, is

The Official Guide New York World's Fair 1964/1965 is a great book for browsing. It's full of vintage advertisements, futuristic themes, descriptions of the pavilions and all sorts of other goodies. Plus, there's an awkward picture of Moses dining with Jinx Falkenburg, whose name sounds like someone who would appear in a Svarsh Corduroy novel.

Getting back to the masks, the ad copy states: "See ancient Japanese Noh masks at the Toray booth in the Japan Pavilion. Toray is Japan's largest marker of synthetic fibers and the third largest in the world. We hope you'll pay us a visit."

According to Wikipedia, Noh masks are part of a Japanese musical theater tradition that dates to the 14th century and are "carved from blocks of Japanese cypress, and painted with natural pigments on a neutral base of glue and crunched seashell. There are approximately 450 different masks mostly based on sixty types, all of which have distinctive names. Some masks are representative and frequently used in many different plays, while some are very specific and may only be used in one or two plays. Noh masks signify the characters' gender, age, and social ranking, and by wearing masks the actors may portray youngsters, old men, female, or nonhuman (divine, demonic, or animal) characters."

There's your Japanese cultural history lesson for today! I'm planning to delve back into all the great photos and advertisements in this World's Fair guidebook throughout 2018, so stay tuned.

Friday, January 12, 2018

Two snapshots of my grandmother in the United Kingdom

My grandmother, Helen Chandler Adams Ingham, was, like her own mother, an extensive world traveler. Here are a couple of undated photos of her touring the United Kingdom. First, above, is a shot of her on a windy and overcast day at Stonehenge, in Wiltshire, England. I have not been to Stonehenge, but I've seen This Is Spinal Tap and portions of Children of the Stones, so that's pretty much the same thing.

Below is a snapshot of Grandma (Beembom), on a sunny day, in an interior courtyard of Caernarfon Castle in Wales. This iteration of the castle dates to the late 13th century and was constructed under the rule of Edward I, who probably should have gotten a better artist for his portrait. The castle was sacked and besieged before its completion, and its beauty today is thanks to repairs and restoration that began in the 19th century. You can view a nifty gallery castle photos in the Wikimedia Commons.

(It is likely that these photos are from the same trip to the UK. It looks like the coat she's holding in the castle photo is the same one she's wearing at Stonehenge.)

Wednesday, January 10, 2018

Colorful illustrations inside
100-year-old "Čítanka Malých"

I picked up this slim and nifty volume a couple of years ago at the annual Friends of Lancaster Public Library book sale at Franklin & Marshall College. Čítanka Malých is Czech and translates roughly to "Small Reader."

This hardcover book was published exactly a century ago, in 1918, and was edited by B.O. Vaŝků. It was copyrighted by the Bohemian Free School of New York City.

Bohemia is a large political and cultural region with the Czech lands, past and present. However, the cultural idea of Bohemianism, now associated mostly positively with wandering, art and freedom, evolved from a series of misunderstandings, misconceptions and biases over the past 200 years regarding the peoples of that region of Bohemia within the Czech lands.

And so the mission of the Bohemian Free School of New York City had, I think, more to do with educating United States immigrants from Bohemia than it did with anything involving free spirits and art. Support on this point comes from a 2012 journal article titled "Evolution of Our Ethnic Community in New York City," in which Vlado Simko writes:
"In 1917 the Sbor zástupců (Governing Board) of the Bohemian Free School, New York published Třetí čítanka, a 144 page book with comprehensive Czech history, that included many illustrations. They also proposed to publish a Fourth Čítanka that was to include the Czech history from the Hussites to then present time. Czech schools in New York were not a substitute but complementary to the public schools, thus the focus on the ethnic history."
Čítanka Malých is a beautiful, 96-page book, filled with vibrant color illustrations in the first half and black-and-white art in the second half. Though I can't read a word of it, it's clearly a primer, using basic vocabulary and both folk tales and scenes from everyday life to educate young readers.

Here are some of the illustrations from the book...

Tuesday, January 9, 2018

Two vintage postcards: Indoor and outdoor majesty

Here is a related (in my mind) pair of postcards for this sunny Tuesday morning...

Iglesia de la Merced (Merced Church) in Havana, Cuba

This old postcard was made in the United States and published in Cuba by "C. Jordi" of Havana. The pre-printed caption on the back states: "This shows a Catholic church during the celebration of mass. Many of Havana's churches are interesting to the tourist because of their magnificent interiors replete with beautiful altars, images of saints, paintings, etc."

I'd say that qualifies as a half-hearted caption. Here's a little bit more about the church, from
"Built between 1865 and 1867, this is arguably one of Havana's most lush churches. The temple stands opposite a small square and its façade, constructed in Baroque style, features the principal door with its round arch and central niche. The niche, presbytery, cupola and naves were decorated in 1904 by prestigious Cuban artists. The Lourdes Chapel, inaugurated in 1876 and decorated with beautiful mural paintings by prestigious Cuban artists, is the most outstanding pictorial collection within Cuban religious colonial architecture. Its lavish robin-eggshell blue interior has high arches and frescoes covering the chapel and cupola. The Capilla de Lourdes (Lourdes Chapel) has an outstanding collection of religious paintings by renowned Cuban artists: Esteban Chartrand, Miguel Melero, Pidier Petit and Juan Crosa, among others."
This postcard was mailed from Havana, but I cannot read the date, as the postmark is obscured. It was sent to a resident of the Elmwood neighborhood of York, Pennsylvania. The short cursive note states:
"Dear Mary:
Just to remind you — this is one of the churches you saw or — didn't you? They're all asking for you down here.

Needles at Sylvan Lake, Altitude 8000 feet, Black Hills, South Dakota

This postcard was made in Germany and the "importer and jobber" was S.A. Longenecker of Rapid City, South Dakota.

The Needles are a gorgeous area of granite pillars and spires within Custer State Park. Meanwhile, Sylvan Lake was man-made in 1881, in conjunction with an adjacent dam of the same name. Perhaps the most interesting historical tidbit about this area is that the Needles were the first site proposed for the creation of the Mount Rushmore carvings. But sculptor Gutzon Borglum rejected the location, in part because of how thin the Needles were. You'd barely get Washington's nose on some of those.

There is an address and note on the back of this postcard, but it was never stamped or mailed. It's addressed to a woman named Stella in Parkesburg, Chester County, Pennsylvania. (Based on the note, though, the postcard might have been included inside a letter.)

The note, in cursive and pencil, states:
"Hello Stella. If you see any of the folks show them these cards for they would apreciate [sic] them very mutch [sic] and tell them I said they were to write once in a while. From your friend Aberdeen [?]"

Monday, January 8, 2018

Book cover: "Cloe Spin and her Happy Family"

Preface: This is actually the back cover of this book. The front and back covers are nearly identical and the front cover is in rougher shape, so I'm displaying the back here. Also, more importantly, I apologize for the fact that this family has serious issues with regard to wearing sufficient clothing.

  • Title: Cloe Spin and her Happy Family
  • Author: None listed. Can't imagine why.
  • Illustrator: Dan Q. Brown
  • Publisher: Stephens Publishing Company, Sandusky, Ohio
  • Year of publication: 1955
  • Price: None listed. At one point, it was listed for three cents used.
  • Pages: 20, including the covers
  • Format: Staplebound
  • Note from publisher: "Minute Stories — With Pictures to Color — have been conceived and carefully edited by us as a development of an idea that parents would welcome a companion project whereby they might enthuse young children in various subjects, which their tender minds would readily absorb — and yet help develop their knowledge of many things about us, which to the adult are commonplace, but which are wonderfully new and exciting to the newcomer."
  • What?? I have no idea. I mean, it's a book about mostly naked clothespin people. That's neither commonplace to adults nor a subject in which tender minds need instruction.
  • Characters featured: Cloe, Father, Mother, Little Brother, Miss Betty Basket.
  • First sentence: Monday is a day we all help.
  • Last sentence: The Clothespin family is a happy one because we all join in our work — and have such fun when we play.
  • Random sentence from middle #1: Little Brother cannot seem to stop eating.
  • Random sentence from middle #2: They carry the lemonade and colored soda water which taste so good at the picnic.
  • Random sentence from middle #3: Little Brother watches the lemonade closely so no dirt gets into it.
  • Random sentence from middle #4: Sometimes a pupil will not pay attention and disturbs the rest of the class, and to punish him Miss Basket makes him sit at the front with a dunce cap on his head.
  • Notes: A copy of this coloring booklet exists within the Joe and Lil Shapiro collection of laundry ephemera (1805-2010) at Brown University's John Hay Library. ... Stephens Publishing is still in business. These days it concentrates on spreading the word about fire safety awareness with promotional items, including coloring books.

(Sort of) new photograph of
Ruth Manning-Sanders

Finding photographs of folk- and fairy-tale author Ruth Manning-Sanders has been a long, rarely successful journey. The first photo I discovered, sometime in 2010, was a grainy image from the 1972 reference work Third Book of Junior Authors. I've found a handful of others over the years, including an excellent portrait shot. A roundup of those efforts can be seen here. But it's still like finding a needle in a haystack; if there isn't a family member out there holding onto a secret stash, then it might be that very little else will turn up in the future.

So I was thrilled when I discovered the above photograph printed on the dust jacket of Manning-Sanders' 1964 hardcover The Red King and the Witch (a collection of retold gypsy folk tales). The nearly three-inch-wide black-and-white photo shows Manning-Sanders sitting on the front leg of a circus elephant.

A new photo!

(New to me.)

Well, sort of.

This is actually the original photograph that was modified (it received an "elephant-ectomy") and used for that grainy portrait that appears in Third Book of Junior Authors. So, while this is a better and much more complete photograph featuring Manning-Sanders, it's not new, per se.

Further, it seems, based on her outfit and the elephant's head-covering, to have been taken on the same day as this previously known Manning-Sanders photo...

So that would mean The Red King and the Witch dust jacket photo is circa 1935, was taken at Tom Fossett's Circus, and features Lizzie the elephant.

While we're discussing The Red King and the Witch, here are a few more tidbits:

1. Manning-Sanders biographical information from dust jacket: "Mrs. Sanders, whose life has been far from dull, describes her childhood as 'extraordinarily happy ... with kind and understanding parents and any amount of freedom.' With her two sisters, she spent long summer holidays swimming, boating, climbing hills and '(running) ... wild generally.' At home in Swansea, they had 'literally thousands of books' and Mrs. Manning-Sanders read — as Dylan Thomas so aptly put it — 'everything and all the time with my eyes hanging out.' She later became a Shakespeare scholar, married a Cornish artist and began marital life in a horse-drawn caravan, travelling all over the British Isles. When circus life caught her fancy, she promptly went about actively participating in Rosaires' Circus — even entering the lions' cages. Today, a widow, she lives in Bristol with her daughter and two grandsons, making use of the life of action and excitement by communicating that verve in the books she writes for young readers."

This is one of the few overt biographical mentions I've found regarding the death of her husband, George Manning-Sanders, in 1953. And, while there is a mention of her daughter, Joan, and grandsons (Christopher and John Floyd), there is notably no mention of her son, David. I know that David, born around 1915, served as an Acting Major for the Royal Engineers during World War II, but I've never found any confirmation of his fate beyond that. The lack of references to him after the war might, sadly, tell us all we need to know.

2. Manning-Sanders' foreword to The Red King and the Witch:

All the stories in this book were told by gypsies. A few of them (Brian and the Fox and The Little Bull-Calf, for example), were told in English. But most of the stories were told by the gypsies in their own language, which is Romani, and were taken down and translated by scholars. The stories came from many different countries; for the gypsies, who are believed to have lived originally in India, have wandered all over the world. And, as they wandered, they picked up more stories from whatever country they happened to be in, as well as repeating to the people of that country the stories they had brought with them.

Through the years, as they were told and retold, the stories became altered, sometimes not very much, sometimes greatly. It all depended on the particular fancies of the narrator: an ogre might become a dragon, a prince might be put in the place of a princess, or a poor boy in the place of a poor girl; but the idea at the back of the story would remain. For instance, you all know the story of Cinderella, but you may not know The Tale of a Foolish Brother and of a Wonderful Bush, which is just a Polish gypsy's version of the same idea.

And now, since it may interest you to see what the gypsy language looks like, here is a familiar fairy tale ending in Romani:

T'a doi jivena kano misto.
(And they live there happily to this day.)

Sunday, January 7, 2018

Lost Corners: The Skyrim dog tale

I was not surprised when the Library of Congress announced recently that it's changing course and will no longer archive every single public tweet. It seemed like a Sisyphean task from the start. It's simply not feasible to store and catalog the hundreds of millions of Twitter posts each day, and this move will also save future historians from having to sort through 23 billion tweets along the lines of "OMG is that [bleeping] referee blind??"

I have little doubt that the important tweets will be saved. Between the efforts of the Internet Archive, the historians who curate everything uttered by very stable geniuses and yours truly, who prints out funny tweets and sticks them inside books, I think we'll be good.

But there could, of course, be Lost Corners. That's a great danger, now that the Library of Congress has jumped ship. So this ongoing Papergreat series will continue to work to shine a spotlight on portions of the internet that might disappear in the digital sands of time. Or in the fires of World War III.

In this case, it's a 2016 Twitter thread by Patrick Lenton (@PatrickLenton), that lends some comic insight into the immersive depth of play offered by modern video games — The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim in this particular instance.

Patrick was just minding his own business, trying to save the world from ogres and dark wizards, when the game presented him with a dilemma.

He detailed that development, starting with this April 4, 2016, tweet...

I have collected Lenton's entire story, verbatim, as detailed in his long Twitter thread. Some of it is very R-rated, but that's the tale that's being told. This isn't exactly a Ruth Manning-Sanders fairy tale, though I think it says as much about our times as her stories say about the cultures and concerns of the past.

worst part of Skyrim was when I found that dog whose owner died in a cabin, and then I of course had to adopt the dog bc i'm not a monster

and I fucking love this dog, but i'm wondering around trying to solve quests and save the world and junk, but this good dog

his good dog always tries to help out fighting giants and dragons, and it's like 'NO DON'T HURT MY DOG'

and i have to fight like 300% harder to save my dog from being eaten by a dragon and i've honestly never been so anxious

so then I find out that I can build a homestead and my dog can live there, so the next four days of my life are building shit

while bandits and dragons still attack my dog while i'm bloody mining ore and building a goddamn solarium for my pooch

and then the dog won't stay in the house, and I discover I have to adopt a child first, and the child has to like my dog

so i go to an orphanage, to discover they are being mistreated by an evil woman, so I kill her

but then I can't adopt a child any more because they are free! So I wander Skyrim looking for a parent-free child somewhere

and I don't even like children

and then finally I find some girl begging in Whiterun, and she's all like 'thanks Mum!' (I play a lady cat-wizard)




and my dog is STILL following me around STILL nearly dying in every fight, and I'm just a tense, scared motherfucker

anyway, then I meet another goddamn dog on the road, but it's a fucking demon dog, and it comes with me too

and it's like - months have passed by in the game, the world is being invaded by dragons, and I'm just focused on real estate

finally i build my new lakefront house, and go find my daughter (who has been living on the streets for about two months)

it's like - LITERALLY, beggars can't be choosers, but bc i didn't make a nice bed for her, she sleeps on a bench in Whiterun

and she moves in to my house, which is right next to a cave of wolves and a necromancers summoning circle, but whatev

and I walk into the house, with my goddamn dog, waiting for her to adopt my dog so I can go save the world



in the meantime, I get married to a lady named Mjoll the Lioness, bc she's hot to trot and will be a good lesbian mother

and weirdly, her 'friend' Aerin, moves into our house too

and it's like - do we have a polyamorous relationship and are raising our homeless daughter and her rat? bc that's cool

so I'm like 'i'll go and find a brother for my new daughter' and he can adopt the dog. Hopefully.

and it works out - the boy wants my dog, my dog likes the boy, everything is fine, the dog has been successfully adopted.

and finally i can go back to being the saviour of Tamriel.

although I then discover that Mjoll's "friend" Aerin keeps yelling 'stupid dog' at my gorgeous dog.

so I waited until he was outside and I try to make him fuck off back to his OWN HOUSE

my theory was that I could shout him into the lake? anyway, I misjudged and shouted him into the necromancer circle

and he died

and my wife saw me kill him, and attacked me, and I didn't want to kill her, so i ran away

so I just never went back to my house, but even though I destroyed my marriage and killed a man

i know that my dog is safe.


Taormina, Italy postcard: "The most heavenly spot"

This turn-of-the-century postcard shows a scene from Taormina, an Italian municipality of about 11,000 residents (today) located on the eastern coast of the island of Sicily. It has long been, as you might imagine, a popular tourist destination. It's also a hot spot for writers — such D.H. Lawrence, Jean Cocteau, Halldór Laxness and Truman Capote — who are seeking solitude and inspiration.

Shown in this illustration is Strada san Pancrazio (strada meaning, roughly, "street"). That's the San Pancrazio Church in the distance, in the center of the postcard. San Pancrazio (Pancras) is the town's patron saint.

Here's similar view of Strada san Pancrazio from Wikipedia.

Giovanni Crupi [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

This postcard was mailed from Taormina, according to the postmark, and I believe the year was 1906. There's an "06" in the center of the postmark, and this postcard does not have a divided back. (Though divided back postcards were introduced in Europe prior to 1906, I'm sure there was plenty of back inventory that still existed.)

It was mailed to a woman living at 925 West End Avenue in New York City and the full message is on the front of the card:
"The most heavenly spot yet. The coloring is just as brilliant and beautiful as this. A.W.B."

Business card for the late "Jakey Budderschnip" of Noodle Doosie

On the heels of last week's post about the Soudersburg Motel, here's another vintage Lancaster County business card. It's the calling card of Pennsylvania Dutch folk humorist Jakey Budderschnip.

"Jakey Budderschnip" was the stage name of Melvin J. Horst, who lived from 1928 until 2008. Here are some excerpts from his obituary, which was written by Larry Alexander and published on March 8, 2008:
An icon of Lancaster County tourism and heritage is gone.

Melvin J. Horst, aka Jakey Budderschnip, died suddenly Wednesday at his home on Mount Sidney Road in Witmer. He was 79.

A photographer for more than 50 years and founder of Folk Craft Center and Museum in Witmer, Horst, along with Elmer Lewis Smith, researched and supplied the photos for more than 40 pictorial books on local Pennsylvania-German lore. ...

"There were four or five key individuals back in the 1950s who were instrumental in sparking the local tourist industry," Eric Conner, marketing director of Amish Farm and House on Route 30, said Thursday. "Mel was the last of them. He really helped open up the doors of Lancaster County tourism back then because not many books were written about the Amish and local heritage."

Born in Brownstown, Horst was a photographer for the U.S. Army Signal Corps during the Korean War.

After his military service, he worked as a photographer for Armstrong World Industries and attended Albright College, graduating in 1957 as president of his class.

About the same time, Horst turned his camera lens on Lancaster County, shooting photos of the Amish, covered bridges, farms and other sights that make the county unique.

Fluent in Pennsylvania Dutch, he began immersing himself in local heritage, which led, in 1972, to his opening Folk Craft Center and Museum. In 1998, Horst opened Folk Craft Center Bed-and-Breakfast on the site of the center.

In 1990, Horst created a 52-minute video titled "The Amish," which included images he took as a boy at 14 using a Kodak box camera.

In 1968, Horst added humorist to his resume when he introduced his alter ego, Jakey Budderschnip of Noodle Doosie, a quick-witted Pennsylvania Dutchman with an overly thick accent.
You can see many of the books that Horst provided photographs for at the Folk Craft Center's website. These are very familiar, I think, to anyone who's spent time in a gift shop or bookstore in Lancaster County.

And what about Noodle Doosie, the home of Budderschnip? It's a real place. Or it was a real place. It now goes by the far-less-interesting name of Napierville and it's located in West Earl Township, Lancaster County.

Again we turn to former Lancaster journalist (and colleague of mine for a short time) Larry Alexander, who first wrote about Noodle Doosie around 1993 and followed it up with a 2008 piece on Here are some excerpts:

I wrote a story about Noodle Doosie some 15 years ago, and it became something of a sensation nationally. Shortly after it was published, an Associated Press story about the town also appeared, followed by stories from other news services. The world experienced Noodle Doosie-mania.

The place is easy to find. Just turn onto Hahnstown Road from Route 322 east of Ephrata. Continue to Napierville Road and turn right. Follow Napierville Road to the "T" intersection with Landis Road. Stop your car and get ready to high-five because you are in downtown Noodle Doosie. ...

Pennsylvania-German folklore regarding how the village earned its name involves two overeager men who got into trouble "noodling" with the same woman.

Since its founding in the mid-1700s, Noodle Doosie has spawned enough colorful characters to resemble a Pennsylvania Dutch version of Hooterville.

My favorite is a former Hessian soldier named Gen. Willembrock, who settled there about 1800. About 30 years earlier, while fighting for England in the American Revolution, Willembrock had been captured at either the battle of Saratoga or Trenton, or possibly both. After the war, he decided to stay in America.

Every Saturday night, Willembrock rode his horse to a nearby tavern named Die Rotie Kuh, the Red Cow, which still stands at Red Run and Fivepointville roads. There, at 3 cents a drink, he proceeded to prove that Germans invented beer and beer-drinking.

One night, too inebriated to get on his horse unaided, he was loaded onto it by some of the young bucks of the village. Since the horse knew the way home, they slapped its rump and sent it off, with Willembrock hanging on.

Meanwhile, the young men ran ahead to a stone bridge that spanned Muddy Creek, arriving before the general. They donned white sheets and hid beneath the structure until the general's horse arrived. Then they sprang out in surprise. The horse reared up and galloped away, carrying the pickled general, who hurled unprintable German words loudly into the night.
Check out Alexander's article for more about Noodle Doosie.