Once again the nation turns its lonely eyes to me, Pinky Tourette, as you stuff our question trough with warm, gooey inquiries of deep philosophical and political import. And once again I don my oracle hat and psychic specs, strap on my honesty galoshes and take up my divining rod of truthiness to dole out a massive dose of visionary knowledge to brighten your otherwise gloomy and globally warming brunchtime. Read on, Macduff.
Sweeney T of Fleet Street asks: Why did Abraham Lincoln shave so weird? I mean, come on, with that facial foliage he’d look goofy even in Brooklyn.
History tells us that our 16th president had hay fever like you wouldn’t believe, Sweeney. The Gettysburg Address was in fact written as a barn-burning, epic opus that would have clocked in at a good hour and forty minutes – except once Abe got out on that ragweed-strewn field and his nose began to twitch, he cut it back to 272 words and in under three minutes was back in his coach pressing cucumber slices to his eyes and gulping down pints of Professor Tourette’s Bimini Miracle Elixir. The point being, the man later described as a “horrid-looking wretch” and "the leanest, lankiest, most ungainly mass of legs, arms, and hatchet face ever strung upon a single frame” had decided way back when he was just a fledgling lawyer in Springfield to grow a full beard in order to appear more magisterial. Unfortunately his pervasive allergies meant his ‘stache was frequently crusted with greasy green snot. It was one of his earliest clients, the diminutive medical student/megalomaniac/despot-in-training Miguelito Loveless (on trial for allegedly using med school resources to build a flamethrowing automaton to rob gold bars from armored stagecoaches) who convinced Abe to shave his upper lip. (Lincoln lost the case, sparking a seething, longstanding bitterness in his client towards authority and the law.) It’s a little-known fact that roving photographer Matthew Brady, then calling himself Matty B and making a comfortable living shooting “Parisian style” boudoir pictures, captured a shot of young Abe with a full sprout of facial hair – nauseatingly blotched with slimy boogers and scabby nose juice. In case you were wondering, that photograph is currently in the private collection of a German industrialist in a medieval castle along the banks of the Rhine.
MODOK of Advanced Idea Mechanics asks: How come whenever you see a sign saying “watch your head” there are never any mirrors?
You have accidentally stumbled upon a fascinating historical topic, Mo. “Watch your head” is not meant to be taken literally, at least not as the original drafters of the phrase intended it. The expression dates back to the Knights Templar and their sacred rite of custodite caput or fealty to their lord. After the church betrayed the Templars and brutally slaughtered the entire sect in the early 1300s, the phrase was adopted by the freemasons and its meaning reinterpreted as devotion to the master of their particular lodge. Gradually the expression fell from favor until the Illuminati took it up and construed it as an edict to think freely and fiercely challenge the status quo. Certain Illuminati later splintered off and brought the phrase with them when they formed the Church of Satan before the Yippies seized the expression, appended the word “man” to the end, and incorporated it in Fabulous Freak Brothers comix. Nowadays whenever you see the words “Watch your head (man)” you are glimpsing a long and richly interwoven history of secret societies and radically subversive philosophies. Or, you know, there’s a low beam and you better duck.
Dr. D of Latveria asks: If I take a probiotic and an antibiotic at the same time will I gain super powers like the Fantastic Four?
Sadly, Doc, the two will cancel each other out and you will simply be biotic. Which, as we all know, is twice as good as being merely otic. There are, of course, many other variations of otic. There’s erotic and psychotic for example, which in that exact sequence accurately describe many of my past relationships. Then there’s idiotic, a follower of Ugandan dictators, and exotic, meaning someone who is no longer otic. To the best of my knowledge, Aerosmith is the only band to feature the topic so far in song, in their classic “Toys in the Otic.”
Tenpole T of Swindle, UK asks: No, seriously, who killed Bambi?
Despite what you may have read on the dark web or been led to believe by some bloated Oliver Stone exposé flick, there’s really no mystery here, Tenpole. It was Lee Harvey Oswald acting alone.
And so, having blown the cobwebs from your mind and boosted your IQ by a good 30 points at minimum, I now graciously take my leave. Until next time, and arguably beyond, I remain,
Pinky Tourette
Comentarios