Posted by: Stella Glass
My brain is just useless. Maybe it’s the cold, the wind, the winter. Perhaps its the fact that a foot of snow just got dumped on Brooklyn after a week of pretty-fucking-mild-for-this-time-of-year-weather.
Or most likely, it’s the simple reality that a steady diet of reading Jezebel, The Onion and your old college friends blog with a side of Google-chat for eight hours a day at your mind-numbing job just turns what remains of your brain into a rice-pudding like mash that slowly leaks from your ears as you watch an old episode of Party of Five on Hulu.com in an attempt to put off doing what you know you have to do.
In this case what I am supposed to do is write a piece for this blog. Which I am doing and you are (doubtfully) still reading. I had this idea to write about names; I’ve always hated my name and it’s bourgeois-80’s teen-comedy-shopping-mallishnes (Stella is a pseudonym,Shhh...) and I was going to write this really clever piece about how names are such an important part of our identity, which we don’t even get to choose since our parents name us before we are old enough to even open our own eyes. It was then going to be a survey of interesting names I’ve encountered and the flowery names I pretended I had as a child, in a feverish and desperate attempt to impress the other children I’d meet at the playground or the beach.
I slowly realized that there was no way I could make that article interesting or even remotely cohesive. I had to think of another idea. So I will do like so many wonderful publications do and give a list of useless numbers in place of an actual article. These numbers aren’t just random figures. They are here to Make You Think. Like that Mos Def song about math.
2: Number of cups of Harrison & Crossfield’s Chamomile Tea I have consumed since writing the beginning of this post. Diagnosis? Delicious.
23: Number of minutes I stared at myself in the mirror in the bathroom trying to decide what I would get if I was given one free plastic surgical-procedure by the best surgeon in Hollywood. Verdict? Mouth largening-surgery
7: Number of times I’ve listened to Pete Rock’s “The Boss” in a row today
6: Number of time I tried (and failed) at putting my hair high up with some loose tendrils hanging down so that it looked like I didn’t take any time to fix it at all but really did.
5: Other people I know whose blogs I have checked today and who are not only prolific as fuck, but also really funny and clever and never run out of good ideas for posts.
3: Number of times I’ve checked my email since beginning this post
In an effort to do something else interesting with this sinking ship of a posting I have decided to use it to teach. Like a short, white, Jewish, female Edward James Olmos in the movie Stand and Deliver.
How, you ask? By doing something fascinating.
See all those numbers above? I am going to Wikipedia, where knowledge is defined by what enough people are too lazy to point out is wrong, and I am going to click on the random article button to correspond with the numbers above. I will then share one fact from each article with you. Get it? I’m going to punch the “Random Article” button as many times as the numbers above dictate, and them I’m gonna learn you something about what that article says. You can thank me after I’m done.
2: Fran Miers: Bilingual TV Producer responsible for the first Spanish language talk show on Telemundo, Occurio Asi! Pretty goddamn interesting, am I right?
23. Jesus. This took forever. During this search I passed a number of articles that actually did look interesting before arriving at our destination, Moorland Township, Michigan. Guess what? It’s a town in the Midwest that’s 97% filled with white people. Yawn. Next.
7. I actually cheated and went to 8 because the 7th article was about some church somewhere and after Moorland Township I need a break. SO…Firenze-Pistoia!! A day long bicycle race in Tuscany Italy that takes place in the crisp and colorful month of October. Sounds cute.
6. Kermit Zarley. A pro-golfer in the 60’s Zarley was often called “the Pro from the Moon” or “Moon Man, because comedian Bob Hope once interviewed him on national television and remarked”Kermit Zarley, with a name like that he must be the pro from the moon”.
Score one for tolerance, Bob.
5. Little Shop of Horrors, the Musical! I’m pretty amped to have landed on an entry with more than 2 paragraphs. But this entry had no information of value unless you care about theater and R. Crumb. In which case, please visit the site yourself. In the name of consistency though: A Saturday morning animated cartoon version, entitled Little Shop, ran for one season on Fox Kids in 1991. There.
If anyone is still reading this God bless you. And here is the final nugget of useless knowledge. May it fill an otherwise empty spot in your brain.
2. Chambré Hardman, an Irish Photographer.
“At one poing he appointed 17 year old Margaret Mills as his assistant and during the earlier years Margaret would look after the studio in Hardman’s absence, mainly when he was in the South of France.
In 1929 Margaret had left the studio to train as a photographer in Paisley, Scotland. Margaret and Hardman kept in touch through frequent affectionate letters.
In 1930, not long after Hardman and Margaret discuss starting a portrait business together, Margaret wrote to say she’d fallen in love with ‘Tony’. Hardman’s response was that she was too young and “that kind of love doesn’t last”. Hardman confessed to a friend that he’d “been a fool. I should have married her long ago but I had no money”. Hardman didn’t give up however and cabled his love from Barcelona. In May 1931, Margaret broke off her engagement to Tony. On August 10th 1932 Hardman married Margaret, he was aged 33 and her 23. They rented a flat at 59 Hope Street, Liverpool. They worked long hours at the studio but still found time for weekend expeditions, strapping camera equipment on to their bicycles and riding out into the countryside to shoot landscapes.”
I promise never to do anything like this again.