Posts by Dr. Boli
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LETTER TO THE EDITOR.
Sir: This is all your fault. I have heard some blame the phase of the moon, but I do not believe it. Others have hinted that the Empress Irene was to blame, but a man must be singularly lacking in gallantry to make such an assertion. A few squirrely old scholars have told me that it all goes back to Alexander Pope, but their arguments were specious and unconvincing. The Republicans, of course, blame it on Heraclitus, and the Democrats on Anaxagoras, but to use such a catastrophe for political gain is beneath me. One or two orthodontists of my acquaintance have blamed U Thant, but they would, wouldn’t they? And of course the electricians blame Robert Mugabe, but I have it on good authority that he has an alibi. No, this is your fault and no one else’s, and under the circumstances I must regretfully cancel my subscription.
—Sincerely, The Man Over There with His Left Shoe on His Head.
WHAT KIND OF POT DID YOU SAY?
From Wikipedia: “The ancient port of Adulis served as an entry-pot and the hub of maritime trade where Indian traders flocked to trade in spices and silk for ivory and gold.”
It took half a minute for Dr. Boli to translate “entry-pot” into a common commercial term imported from the French.
ON THIS DAY IN HISTORY.
On this day in 1821, the Saturday Evening Post began publication. It spent the first century and a half of its existence trying to convince the world that it had been founded by Benjamin Franklin in 1728; it has spent the last half-century trying to convince the world that it still exists, with at best indifferent success.
ASK DR. BOLI.
Dear Dr. Boli: I was looking at a site on the Web and noticing that it claimed to be “carbon neutral.” What does that mean? —Sincerely, Jennifer Granholm.
Dear Madam: In the early days of the Web, all sorts of annoying attention-grabbing decorations were fashionable on primitive HTML pages meant to be displayed in Netscape or Internet Explorer. There was blinking text, there was bold italic underlined big, there were patterned backgrounds that made the text illegible; but most annoying of all were the animated effects, both background and foreground. Of the animated effects, the very most annoying of all was the popular “carbonated” effect that made a pattern of rising bubbles all over the screen. A “carbon-neutral” site is one whose owner has signed a pledge promising that it will never happen again.
THE ADVENTURES OF SIR MONTAGUE BLASTOFF, INTERPLANETARY SPACE DRAGOON.
Announcer. And now Malt-O-Cod, the only malt food drink flavored with real cod-liver oil, presents…
(Music: Fanfare)
Announcer. The Adventures of Sir Montague Blastoff, Interplanetary Space Dragoon!
(Music: Theme, in and under for…)
Announcer. As you remember, last week we left Sir Montague and Colonel Darling at the very edge of the universe. This week, they’re still there, about to become the first human beings ever to travel outside the universe and into the void!
Col. Darling. But, Monty, how can the universe even have an edge?
Sir Montague. Everything has an edge, my dear.
Col. Darling. But I thought the universe was, you know, everything.
Sir Montague. Yes, exactly. And the edge of the universe is the boundary between everything and nothing. Just think of it, Colonel: we’ll be the first human beings to see everything from the outside.
Col. Darling. But if we take our ship into the nothing…
Sir Montague. Which of course we shall do without flinching.
Col. Darling. Of course. I mean, I don’t even know the meaning of the word “flinch.”
Sir Montague. That’s the spirit, old girl.
Col. Darling. No, I mean really. Is it some kind of bird? That’s the best I can figure. Did you bring your dictionary with you?
Sir Montague. I’m afraid it’s back in the office.
Col. Darling. But what’s outside the universe?
Sir Montague. Nothing, my dear. Everything that’s something is part of the universe. We’ll be going into a complete void.
Col. Darling. But if we go into the nothing, won’t we be something?
Sir Montague. Don’t overthink it, my dear. You’ll give the writers heartburn. Are you ready to enter the void?
Col. Darling. Ready for anything with you by my side, Monty!
Sir Montague. Jolly Good! Then here we go.
(Sound: Silence.)
Col. Darling. Well, that was anticlimactic. Now what?
Sir Montague. Now we travel some distance outside the universe and turn around to get some good pictures. Did you bring your Brownie?
Col. Darling. Of course. But if I took a picture out here, wouldn’t it just look like I left the lens cap on? —But wait a minute, Monty! What’s that up ahead?
Sir Montague. I have no idea. I thought there was nothing here, but… It looks like some sort of large building. Or perhaps a sort of interconnected complex of buildings.
Col. Darling. Look, Monty! It’s Ganymede Mall! You remember, it used to be the hottest shopping center on Ganymede, but it closed years ago when I was a teenager! I mean, not that I’m not still a teenager, but…
Sir Montague. I say, Colonel, there’s another one beyond it!
Col. Darling. It’s the Tethys Galleria! That one just closed a year ago! And there’s another one over there that says “Century III”! And another one after that! Why, there must be hundreds of them stretching into the void!
Sir Montague. But you see what this means, don’t you, Colonel? We’ve finally solved the mystery of what happens to shopping malls when they die!
Col. Darling. It’s kind of creepy. Don’t you think we should be turning around?
Sir Montague. Certainly not! We can’t miss this opportunity to explore a real live dead mall. Brace for docking, Colonel!
(Music: Theme, in and under for…)
Announcer. Will Sir Montague and Colonel Darling survive the utter emptiness that is an abandoned shopping mall? Don’t miss next week’s exciting episode: Void after Thirty Days! Till then, kids, remember that children who drink Malt-O-Cod daily are 37% less likely to succumb to existential despair before they’re sixteen. And right now, for a limited time only, in honor of Sir Montague’s trip past the edge of the universe, you’ll find nothing in specially marked packages—absolutely free! So don’t forget to make your parents’ lives miserable until they cough up a lousy three bucks for a jar of delicious Malt-O-Cod. It’s the malt food drink that’s brain food!
(Music: In full, then out.)
ON THIS DAY IN HISTORY.
On this day in 1893 was patented the manufactured food known today as “shredded wheat,” which its inventor—whose name was Henry Perky—described as “whole wheat mattresses.” Today shredded wheat is available in variations with many different frostings and fillings; but in honor of the grand vision of inventor Henry Perky, the original mattress flavor is retained in all of them.
ASK DR. BOLI.
More interesting.
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Our correspondent “Big Brother” writes: Perhaps I could take this opportunity to ask a question which I have been wondering for the last few weeks…as a Pennsylvania man, where does the good Dr. Boli stand on the Wawa vs. Sheetz controversy?
Dear Sir: Dr. Boli believes that, as controversies go, it is lacking in color. Think of the controversies, for example, that led to the expulsion of one artist after another from the Surrealists, or the mighty kerfuffle that ensued when one of the members of De Stijl discovered the diagonal. Those were colorful controversies—incomprehensible, but colorful. Consider the controversy between Newton and Leibniz over who had taken the last blueberry yogurt from the refrigerator. Or it may have been about the invention of calculus. Either way, it was a controversy worth giving some attention, because the characters were colorful and distinct, whereas Dr. Boli has never learned to tell one convenience store from another. Consider Luther and Erasmus and their comprehensive catalogues of the various shades of excrement as they apply to the theological reasoning of one’s opponent. Consider St. Nicholas of Myra slapping Arius in a solemn council of the whole Church. Consider the legal case of Helen Kane vs. Betty Boop.
At any rate, there is only a relatively small area where there can be controversy. Wawa does not penetrate as far as Pittsburgh, and Sheetz does not reach Philadelphia with its octopus tentacles. When Dr. Boli does travel through the small section of Pennsylvania where the two overlap, it is usually by private railroad car, and if stops are necessary to replenish the supplies, the staff have instructions to buy only from certain Deitsh farmers with whom we are personally acquainted.
FROM THE ILLUSTRATED EDITION.
SECURE AS ALL GET OUT.
Have you been worrying that nefarious agents from Belarus or Uzbekistan might be tracking your every visit to this Magazine? Well, they probably still are. But your browser will no longer display the words “Not secure” in the address bar when you visit, so please enjoy your false sense of security.