You’ll get light scant Bleatage today, and you’ll like it. As Bogie said. Do you get the feeling that all things Bogartian have been shown to the exits? For a while he had a resurgence as a cultural icon of cool, but at some point there seemed to be a reset. The 90s are now the dim recesses for our cultural nostalgia. Everything that came before is problematic. Or worse: it’s problematic and it’s in black and white.

Tonight Daughter and I played HQ trivia, and one of the questions concerned an archaic word brought back to popularity by the invention of the telephone. I said “hello,” and that was correct.

“There were some who suggested ‘hoy-hoy,’” I said.

“Seriously?” Yes. And after we’d been kicked off by a question concerning the Latin name for a KFC spice, I called up a Simpsons clips of Montgomery Burns saying “Hoy hoy” on the telephonic device. It was from 20 years ago, I’m sure, because the ep was funny. (And sweet and touching and brutal.) It seemed part of contemporary culture, though. Imagine watching a movie in 1964, and Bogart’s walking around in a trenchcoat through greyscale fog. I suppose it could have happened, but so much had changed. The cultural pole-shift I mentioned a few days before.

Question is, could it happen again? Could something redefine all the things again? Or are we just stuck in a feedback loop of remix culture and memes? I think it’s the latter. I didn’t mean to bring this up. I just started typing, and things happened. Sorry.

Anyway, scant Bleatage with no gaudy patter. And a gunsel is not a guy with a rod. Well, in a way -

Oh, I’m sorry I brought it up. BTW: Bogart seriously fat-shames Sidney Greenstreet in “Falcon,” and don’t even get me started on the ciswashing casting of Peter Lorre for Joel Cairo or the religious imperialism of the Knights of Malta, or Mary Astor’s implied incarceration for being a female with agency. I’m okay with the movie existing, as long as someone brackets any showing with apologies and explanations. Just showing the movie without context is practically hate speech.

Here’s an account of our streets and what they look like.

The IDS had a live ESPN show, and was surrounded by people looking down at their phones, taking pictures of the people they could not hear who were ON TV, so it was a big deal.

On the Nicollet Mall, strange structures:

The City Center atrium was filled with music and people, which gives a false impression to the newcomers. I’m fine with that.

Outside, the teams of people wandering around looking for confused visitors in need of assistance.

No one seems to need any assistance. I had one volunteer offer to give me a free sample of detergent, and I said “no thanks, I’ve eaten” because I’m such a fargin’ card, and then I bumped into another volunteer and said “I’m sorry,” adding “I’m from here” so she didn’t count it as an interaction.

It’s all very, very blue, including your lips: fifteen below with the wind-chill today.

Mass congestion and traffic nightmares and logistical nightmares were predicted by the usual suspects; I've seen not a whit of it.


Yes, it's the return of Lance Lawson! All new strips! New in the sense that they're from 1948, but weren't posted before.

Meet . . . Mrs. Biddy. Mrs. Von Biddy, in case you thought she wasn't rich.

Lance kenw a lot about dolls as well? I'm . . . somewhat surprised.

Answer in the afternoon, in the comments.



The music of Suspense depends on the era. Well, yeah, of course, you say. When doesn't it? But shows usually don't span eras. Suspense did. Started in the early 40s, ended in the last days of radio in 1962. Towards the end, they relied on library music, and that's what we have here.


Another installment of America's purveyor of imaginative history.

Which is one way to put it.


Ahhh, the memories! That bygone year when a man died horribly. Memories . . . memories.

Special appearance by a future President of the United States.





I'm so glad I wasn't around for this. Again, some sub-Beatles krep with some psychedelic production. Another one of those songs where some swain talks to the parents, like that ever works. And it has do-run-runs.


Bonus fun: the producer also wrote the score for Frankenhooker. And much more.



1950. Bread: Mothers, you know bread is important. Bud did you know why?


And now, the rest of the story.

Welll, the part about the first radio broadcast of a prizefight was correct.

The hoohah about FDR is pure BS-grade bunkum.

Wireless Age, a technology magazine of the era, had held a convention at New York City from March 16 to the 19th of the same year. Julius Hopp was a concert organizer at the Madison Square Garden, and he asked Rickard for permission to broadcast the fight live on radio. Hopp then attended the convention and he was able to meet local radio enthusiasts. In addition, several radio stations had begun playing in New York City, including Westinghouse's KDKA. John Ringling, who was Rickard's Madison Square Garden partner, opposed live transmission of the bout, but he relented once a compromise was reached to have radio equipment located outside the arena instead of inside it. AT&T also protested, refusing to connect a ringside telephone line to a transmitter.

The transmitter used was said to be the largest one ever built up to that time. It was built by General Electric and set up at the Lackawanna train terminal in Hoboken, from where the bout was transmitted by a temporary station, WJY, operated by the Radio Corporation of America, to theaters, halls and auditoriums in 61 other cities across the United States. The fight became the first world title fight to be carried over on radio, ushering in an era of boxing radiocasts that lasted until televised boxing came along.

The Hitler segment: just love the fake German announcer. The last piece about On Wisconsin: nope.

The tune was composed in 1909 by William T. Purdy, with the intention of entering it into a competition for a new fight song at the University of Minnesota. Carl Beck, a former University of Wisconsin-Madison student, convinced him to withdraw it from the contest at the last minute and allow his alma mater to use it instead. Beck then wrote the original, football-oriented lyrics, changing the words “Minnesota, Minnesota” to “On, Wisconsin! On, Wisconsin!” Sung for the first time at the 1909 homecoming game vs. Minnesota.

But other than that, the reporting was quite accurate.

I mean, Japan did bomb Pearl Harbor.


That'll do; see you Monday!


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