Posts by Dr. Boli
FROM THE ILLUSTRATED EDITION.
From DR. BOLI’S ENCYCLOPEDIA OF MISINFORMATION.
Bald Eagle.—In spite of their ultrapatriotic reputation, three out of five American Bald Eagles voted for Eugene Debs in the 1920 presidential election.
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DR. BOLI’S PRESS-CLIPPING BUREAU.
THE ADVENTURES OF SUPEREGO.
Announcer. And now Malt-O-Cod, the delicious malt food drink flavored with real cod-liver oil, presents…
(Music: Fanfare played on a portable reed organ.)
Announcer. The Adventures of Superego!
(Music: March theme on organ, under for…)
Announcer. Yes, it’s Superego, the hero your parents want you to admire. Dressed respectably in a dark grey suit with deep maroon necktie, Superego fights an unending battle against the forces of chaos and wanton doyourownthingism.
(Music: In full, then fade.)
Announcer. As you recall, in our last episode, Superego had finally come face to face with Sir Edward Iddington, a diabolical villain who insists that he has the right to do what he wants because he’s a big boy now.
Superego. You’re wearing one mauve sock and one red sock with a green Christmas tree on it. What would your mother say?
Sir Edward. Irrelevant! I can do what I want! I’m a big boy now!
Superego. Yes, but what will people think when they see your mismatched socks?
Sir Edward. They will think that I have ankles! And they will be perfectly correct!
Superego. Well, I came here to negotiate with you about the articles of capitulation you sent to the Secretary General of the United Nations, but I’m not sure I can get past the socks thing. Do you really think that the Security Council will agree to turn over control of all their armed forces to a man who can’t match his socks? And I haven’t even brought up the plaid jacket with striped pants. You look like a used-car salesman. Supervillains who get ahead in the world are the ones who dress respectably. I mean, look at Vladimir Putin. Except when he’s posing for pinup calendars, he’s always in a suit and tie. And his socks match.
Sir Edward. Ha! That is because Putin is a supervillain without imagination! He is hardly super at all! His puny proletarian mind can imagine nothing beyond conquest and world domination—the poor, circumscribed dreams of an idle schoolboy!
Superego. But you just demanded the entire United Nations submit to your unlimited authority. How are your dreams any less circumscribed?
Sir Edward. A mere stepping-stone! An intermediate stage! A way-station on the route to my ultimate victory! A Howard Johnson’s on the turnpike to my ideal world!
Superego. And what will you do with the world once you have it under your control?
Sir Edward. I will give it liberty!
Superego. Liberty? But we already have liberty. We have a republican form of government, under which the people elect representatives to make the laws by which they are governed. This is the only sure foundation of personal freedom.
Sir Edward. Incorrect! You have negated your argument by your own words! The people make laws! Where there are laws, there is no freedom!
Superego. Then how would you govern the world?
Sir Edward. I would give the people liberty! They will want to eat ice cream for dinner, and I will say, Yes! You may! They will want to leap off the porch roof to see if they can fly, and I will say, Yes! You may! They will want to lynch their immigrant neighbors for speaking Spanish at home, and I will say, Yes! You may! They will want to blow up public buildings just to watch them go boom, and I will say, Yes! You may!
Superego. But that’s complete chaos. The human race couldn’t survive that kind of anarchy. We’d be extinct in a year.
Sir Edward. Precisely! I will give the people rope enough to hang themselves, and I will say, Yes! You may! And then there will be no one left to tell me what to do! Ha! Ha ha, ha ha ha! Ha, ha ha ha, ha ha ha ha ha!
Announcer. Is this the end of civilization as we know it? Don’t miss next week’s philosophy-packed episode of the Adventures of Superego!
(Music: March theme, in full and under for…)
Announcer. Of course, girls and boys, when you talk about liberty, there’s only one freedom that really matters. That’s the freedom to drink Malt-O-Cod morning, noon, and evening, and any time you get a craving for the rich, satisfying flavor of malt from contented barley and oil from the cream of the North Atlantic cod fisheries. Tell your parents you’ll stage a revolution if you don’t get your Malt-O-Cod every day. And, in honor of America’s upcoming 250th, look for the red, white, and blue powder in specially marked packages. It’s the malt food drink that’s brain food—Malt-O-Cod!
(Music: In full, then out.)
PERSONALS.
To Zelda: You said “Carpe diem,” but I was unable to find a carp. Please communicate with revised advice. Reply no. 339285.
If Sadie Witherplate, alias Ronaldina Irpensprite, alias Sir Geoffrey Hogshead, alias Alina Malina McGuick, alias Nancy Orbendorben, alias Katherine Katherinesdottir, alias Dame Olga Perimeter, will apply to the following address, she will hear something to her disadvantage. Internal Revenue Service, Western Pennsylvania suboffice, Federal Building, downtown, no. 339286.
Looking for wife. Left her at the altar, but was drunk out of mind and cannot remember which altar. Also name and description—cannot remember those, either. Reformed Husband, no. 339287.
Copy editor seeks rich error-prone author, object matrimony and publication. I’m female, brunette, late twenties, lightning quick with a red pencil. You’re male, 25–45, independently wealthy, literary-minded, poor speller. Reply no. 339288.
To E. K.: Imagine my chagrin! There. That will give you something to do.
Chess champion seeks tutor to teach her checkers. Reply no. 339289.
Dishonest man seeks victims for Ponzi scheme. First time trying something of this nature, so looking for easy marks. If this works out, opportunities to be defrauded in other ways may be in your future. Reply no. 339290.
FROM THE ILLUSTRATED EDITION.
A PRECEDENT FOR THE FUTURE.
It seems to Dr. Boli that, in our current legal and intellectual climate, there is a way forward for the media-sensitive.
First, we must recognize that there is such a thing as media sensitivity. Some people cannot concentrate on a task if there is a television flashing moving images or a loudspeaker droning drivel; no matter how much they dislike the programming, they find their attention monopolized by the thing that is, after all, specifically designed to attract their attention. Such people may be described as media-sensitive: they have a reaction to media in the same way that people sensitive to urishiol have a reaction to poison ivy. This media sensitivity is a disability: it prevents them from functioning normally in situations where their attention is required to be elsewhere. If, for example, you find it impossible to fill out a form in your doctor’s waiting room because a television is begging you to watch an exciting baking contest, then you suffer from media sensitivity that prevents you from succeeding with tasks that are straightforward for the apparently normal people around you who can ignore the television in the room.
Once we have forced the recognition that media sensitivity is a disability, then our next step is simply to demand the enforcement of the laws that already protect people with disabilities. The media-sensitive must be granted reasonable accommodation. And, as we have found in many other contexts, making the world more accessible to people with disabilities has the unintended side effect of making it more accessible to everyone else as well.
Dr. Boli does not pretend that the struggle will be easy. He predicts that the average office with public-facing television screens would resist pushing the off button much more vigorously than it would resist spending a hundred thousand dollars for a wheelchair ramp. But victories are won by the patient and persistent; and, in the words of an old Danish proverb, “No one ever yet won the day by snoring.” The time to begin the struggle is now.
PRECEDENT?
Dr. Boli fondly recalls how, in one broadcast, Murrow had to report on Senator McCarthy’s latest tirade, in which McCarthy accused one Edward R. Murrow of being a Communist agent, building up a crescendo of batty assertions climaxing with the astounding charge that Murrow had been moonlighting as a professor at the Moscow University summer school. Murrow simply reported what McCarthy had said, without contradicting him. He ended with only one sentence of personal statement: “My own reactions, and possibly corrections, will have to wait for another time.”
That, young journalists, is how you build up trust.
Thousands of pages of typewritten radio scripts are in the Murrow papers, and they almost bring the man back to life. His typing is hasty, with capitals frequently out of alignment because he can’t wait for the shift key to do its job. Scribbled emendations show us how carefully Murrow crafted his message, marking the emphases and pauses, taking out what was superfluous or irrelevant, and leaving only what would communicate directly with the ordinary American.
All of which brings us to this story, which caught Dr. Boli’s eye as he was glancing over one of the three-thousand-page “volumes” of typescripts. Somehow Dr. Boli missed this news when it was news, but he wonders now what ever became of this case. Murrow’s treatment is chatty and personal, obviously meant for one of his opinion shows, so it brings out the full Murrow personality. If you want even more of the Murrow personality, read the original typescript, where you can see all of Murrow’s own scribbled marks to show how the expressions and the breaths are to be managed.
June 1, 1951.—Another Court decision of some interest in Washington today. The Capital Transit Company had been piping broadcasts into its streetcars and busses. These broadcasts consisted of news, music and commercials. Today the Court of Appeals decided, unanimously, that that’s got to stop. The Court ruled that those who ride on streetcars and buses have a constitutional right not to listen. Such programs deprive passengers of liberty without due process of law; violate the Bill of Rights, (which is considerably older than radio). The three judges said the Bill of Rights “can keep up with anything an advertising man or electronics engineer can think of.” If the Transit Company obliged its passengers to read what it liked, or get off the car, invasion of their freedom would be obvious. The company now obliges them to hear what it likes, or get off the car. The Court held that the passengers’ loss of freedom not to listen is the more serious because many people have little time to read, consider, discuss what they like, or to relax.
The transit people, who wanted to keep on broadcasting, argued that the majority of their riders wanted the music, news and commercials; and said that the idea that buses and streetcars—with or without broadcasting reception—are sanctuaries for rest and thought is just as astounding a thesis, as the idea that the failure of the streetcar railway systems to provide such sanctuaries is a menace to our American way of life. So unless the Supreme Court decides otherwise there won’t be any more news or commercials in Washington’s buses and streetcars. But the question of music is still undecided, for Judge Edgerton reading the unanimous opinion said the Court was not compelled to decide whether occasional broadcasts of music alone infringe constitutional rights. It is to be hoped that some stouthearted citizen will test that one in the courts too; because to be forced to listen to music—at least some kinds of music—or get off the bus, may be just as distasteful as listening to news or commercials. I have heard certain types of music which do me serious injury, and prevent me from reading, discussing or relaxing.
This case will be appealed to the Supreme Court, and may provide the learned Justices with some diversion on a dull day. Disregarding the purely legal aspects of the case, Chief Justice Vinson might hold that it’s all right to subject a captive audience to “Take Me Out to the Ball Game”; Mr. Justice Tom Clark would be reluctant to say that it’s unconstitutional to force anybody to listen to “The Eyes of Texas Are Upon You”; Mr. Justice Frankfurter might well contend that a half-hour of Beethoven never hurt anybody, and so on.
The Supreme Court probably won’t get around to hearing this vexed case until some time in the Autumn, but we’ll advise you of the outcome. The most eloquent testimony on this subject of captive audiences in transit was given by Harold Ross, the Editor of the New Yorker, when a similar situation arose here in New York, some time ago. He gave it as his opinion that the employees in the railroad station “must be slowly going nuts.” An attorney for the railroad asked Mr. Ross if his hearing was good. “I am thinking” snapped the editor “of having an eardrum punctured.” Another commuter said he’d lost a mother-in-law; he asked the station to page her on the loudspeaker system, but they wouldn’t interrupt the program, so he lost her. It is gratifying, in this complex world, where so few things seem to get settled, to know that eventually the Supreme Court will render a decision on this matter. Meanwhile, permit me to wish you a quiet week end.
And now a question for readers. Dr. Boli’s own doctorate of laws is, you will recall, honoris causa, meaning that it does not make him an expert. Are any students of law out there who know how this case came out? Did the Supreme Court really hear the case, and how did it rule?
It is admittedly unlikely that the decision was not overturned, since the ubiquity of televisions in public places would be seriously curtailed by a strict application of this precedent. Nevertheless, just in case this does turn out to be valid precedent, we have sent a private message through the usual channels to Mr. Bozar the Clown.
JUMPER CABLES.
1. The experiment was a failure.
2. The experiment was a success.
Neither conclusion is consoling.




