Unexpected work responsibilities have kept me from completing the series I started, but I hope to finish it soon. In the meantime, if you have a moment, ponder with me a question that has been plaguing me for years now.
If you play a prank on someone … does it matter whether they ever figure it out? I think not. So long as you’re amused yourself, what’s the difference?
In earlier days, I worked as an assistant for a big shot. He was not the most fun fellow on the planet . He was inarticulate, so one of my jobs was to write speeches for him. On one occasion, I slipped something into his text about being “the master of his domain.” He was an American who put on Continental airs, so I guessed he wouldn’t pick up on the reference. I was right. He delivered the line and remained clueless thereafter. But for the last two decades, I have been snickering about the ribald Seinfeldism I made come out of his pissy piehole. The prank was a success, despite his never catching on. Continue reading “Entr’acte—A Musical Prank?”
[Note to readers: This post should be two, as it covers both the movie Grizzly Man (the life and death of Timothy Treadwell), and Woody Harrelson and his dad, Chuck, and the discovery that Harrelson’s mother is an Oswald. Grizzly Man will be covered in more and better depth in a separate post very shortly. The part about Harrelson in this post starts about 2/3 of the way down. ]
Coming fresh off the realization that the death of Mathew Shepard was probably a hoax, and thinking back on other events in my life that were both gruesome and captivating, I decided to take a look at Grizzly Man, AKA Timothy Treadwell, AKA Timothy William Dexter.
For those not familiar, Treadwell was an advocate for Alaskan brown bears, and during the 1990s he lived with them, filmed them, anthropomorphized them, and was finally eaten by them in October of 2003. His then girlfriend, Amie Huguenard was also killed on that same day.
We saw Treadwell give a talk when we lived in Bozeman. He gave a slide show and was passing the hat, and seemed genuine. He named all the bears – doll-like names indicating that he thought of them as fuzzy friends. One thing I clearly remember from the talk was his view of the bear mating ritual. The male gets a whiff and stalks the female until she is in a receiving mood. He then has a one minute tryst with her, if that. Treadwell called it “making love.” I did think he was a little ’round the bend.’
Continue reading “Was Dealey Plaza just a family reunion?”