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Utopian Turtletop. Monsieur Croche's BĂȘte Noire. Contact: turtletop [at] hotmail [dot] com

Thursday, January 17, 2008



Picked up the rockcrit anthology Stranded a week ago -- it's out of print! -- and am enjoying bits of it. The premise: Stranded on a desert isle, what is the one rock album you would want to have? I don't like the premise: Boomer solipsistic fantasies taken to their logical extreme; but some of the essays rock. Dave Marsh's essay on masturbation songs, "Onan's Greatest Hits," made me realize forever that "Greatest Hits" is very hard to distinguish aurally from "Greatest Tits."

For the record (ba-dum-ching): The Biblical Onan wasn't a wanker; his M.O. was to withdraw before ejaculation. You could look it up.


* * * * * * *


A joke I made up to entertain the kid on a long walk last week.

Knock knock.

Who's there?

Otch.

Otch who?

Bless you!


Thank you, and good night.





Comments:
I'm sure you've heard the story about Dorothy Parker naming her parakeet "Onan," because he spilled his seed upon the ground.

Kerry
 
Thanks -- I hadn't heard that story; or, if I had, I had forgotten it.

Do you want to read another knock knock joke from our long walk a week ago? Coincidentally, it alludes to a book that Dorothy Parker hated.

Knock knock.

Who's there?

Winnie Thep.

Winnie Thep who?

I'm not Winnie-the-Pooh!
 
Winnie Thep is one of my favorite Tibetan philosophers! (The Tao of Pooh, indeed!)

Kerry
 
Funny you should mention Tibetan philosophers; just last night (Thursday night), at my friends' Parcheesi party, he showed me a photo album from his trip to India in 1990 with my friend from junior high who was also at the party, and they told stories of visiting a Tibetan Buddhist monastery in northern India.
 
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