2016 is grinding to a close, and lots of people have been making a big deal about how the year sucked because of the number of big name celebrities that have died. In all truth, I don't quite buy the whole thing. I have been told by a demographer (to whom I am quite close) that, given the numbers of ages of celebritie, the deaths haven't really been out of line. In fact, this demographer says, 2017 is likely to be worse.
Nevertheless, it seems to me I should close out 2016 with a bunch of songs about death:
"People Who Died" by the Jim Carroll Band
Seems to me this is the song to start things off. My understanding is that these were all people who Jim Carroll actually knew.
"Five Missing One" by Bobtown
Admittedly, I'm being a bit self serving here, since this is a song I wrote. Yay me! Just to be clear, this isn;t commercially available, as Bobtown, a really talented New York band, recorded it as a Kickstarter fulfillment. If y'all have connections to the recording industry and know a band looking for material...
"Anachnu Chamishah Pachot Echad" by Hachaverim Shel Benny
I have to include this after "Five Missing One," since it was the inspiration. This is a Western-style Israeli song about a friend lost in war. At one point I was hoping to translate it into English, but I changed my mind and just wrote an original song with an admittedly similar title. "Marie Provost" by Nick Lowe
A classic from Nick Lowe's first album, this story of a fallen movie star is based on the true story of Marie Prevost. It's noteworthy because of the pleasant melody and jangly guitars accompanying such a morbid topic. I recall reading in an interview that the problem came afterwards when he'd be given all sorts of demos of songs about children getting killed by trains and such.
"I Don't Like Mondays" by the Boomtown Rats
The hit that made the Rats' name, this was based on the true story of Brenda Spencer who shot up a school in Cleveland. Her only explanation? "I don't like Mondays." "The Final Taxi" by Wreckless Eric
From early in Eric's career. He got reflective watching a funeral procession. I kind of like the "la la las" even if they seem out of place. The fact is I love pretty much every Wreckless Eric song from this era. Except "Personal Hygeine." "My Darling Clementine" traditional
A folk tune about an unfortunate drowning victim. This is Johnny Hill's version, though there are plenty of others on Youtube. Tom Lehrer doe a whole dissertation on the song, examining what it would have sounded like as penned by some prominent songwriters. But I have Tom Lehrer represented below, so no go on that. "The Homecoming Queen's Got a Gun" by Julie Brown
One of Julie's best tracks is a parody of the teenage death melodrama genre (which is best exemplified by "Leader of the Pack." I've loved this since I was in college and heard it on the Goddess in Pogress EP. Of course I was, for years, puzzled by the ending -- until Ifinally saw Citizen Kane. "Killer Klowns from Outer Space" by the Dickies
The theme song from the song by the same title. I first got into the Dickies when I was in college, attracted by their penchant for high speed cover versions of pop songs. Of the non-cover recordings they did, this is my favorite. And the fact that it's the theme from a movie I love is kind of the cherry on top. "American Pie" by Don McLean
Don McLean's Opus. I don't know if anyone has ever produced the definitive explanation of what all the imagery represents. And I don't know what everything ion the song represents. But apparently the day the music died was when the plane went down killing Ritchie Valens, Buddy Holly and The Big Bopper. I had heard the Brady Bunch's awful cover of this long before I heard the original. So I was really surprised when I found out that this was the original and the Bradys' version was a cover. Go figure.
"Tie Me Kangaroo Down" by Rolf Harris
For years before I actually listened to this song, I thought the title was some reference to a way of tying someone down. Tie me tightly down. Tie me loosely down. Tie me kangaroo down. That kind of thing. My friend, Tall Judy, has observed that the imagery at the end -- "keep playing 'til I shoot through" -- is very evocative. I would like the song better if not for the fact that I mentally associate it with Harris' conviction involving some kind of indecent actions and underage girls. I don't know the details of the charges and the conviction (and I don't want to know), but it does taint the song for me. "The Death of Barry the Roofer with Vertigo" by the Toy Dolls
I recall reading in an interview that Olga (who head the Toy Dolls) can't write songs that aren't literally true. He just can't make stuff up. So is this based on real events?
"Run Joey Run" by David Geddes
Funny thing about this song. Sometime during the 1990s one of the New York newspapers (I forget if it was the Daily News or the Post) ran an article about the worst singles of all time. Since this was not on the list, I sent a letter to the editor suggesting that it should have been on the list. The next week my letter was printed along with a bunch of others, each nominating something bad. I used to write lots of letters to editors, so that was nothing new. But that night I got a call from a woman I didn't know. She sounded drunk. First she congratulated me on my letter, explaining that she agreed the song was awful. Then she told me that, years ago, she met the composer at a party, and he was really full of himself, having written a hit song and all. Finally, she asked if I wanted to meet her for sex. That wasn't her exact terminology, but it was the point, I was too weirded out to say yes. There have been about half a dozen incidents where I got phone calls as a result of a letter. That was the second-strangest. "An Irish Ballad" by Tom Lehrer
Tom Lehrer actually wrote a bunch of songs about death. I was torn between this, "We Will All Go Together When We Go," and "So Long Mom." I have no idea why I chose this from among the three. Whatever. "The Night Chicago Died" Paper Lace
I remember hearing this from the summer that I was at Camp Massad Gimel. It was one of the songs that frequently played on the radios that the counselors always had playing. For some reason I thought it was about the great Chicago fire. You know, the one with Mrs. O'Leary's cow. Anyway, I love that rhyme: "And he called his gang to war / Against the forces of the law." "Billy Don't Be a Hero" by Bo Donaldson & the Heywoods
Another story song from the same era. This was also played a lot on the radio during the same summer. "Seasons in the Sun" by Terry Jacks
I really shouldn't say "by Terry Jacks," since this was a cover version. I'm including it because it's the recording that I think of. Anyway, I loved this song when I was a kid and didn't realize how miserable it is. "Kentucky Graveyard" by Bobtown
I saw Bobtown live a few times, and this was my favorite song from their live set. At one show I mentioned to bassist/vocalist Fred Stesney that I'd love to hear this on an album, and I was delighted to find that they recorded it for their third. Even better, at a release party, he told me that my suggestion was instrumental in getting it onto the album. I like to think that's true. "Strange Fruit" by Billie Holliday
There are several themes represented in this list, but "Strange Fruit" is the only song about racism and lynchings. "Will the Circle Be Unbroken?" by Johnny Cash
Honestly? I don't know who first recorded this, but I associate it (whether rightly or wrongly) with the Carter/Cash family of country music royalty. And it always moves me. "I Want My Baby Back" by Jimmy Cross
Years ago I had a copy of The World's Worst Records, a compilation on Rhino Records. I'd say that this was my favorite track on the album, but there was a lot to like. In an "I know it's terrible, but I love it anyway" kind of way. "Suicide is Painless" from M*A*S*H
I can't help but love this song, since I loved M*A*S*H when I was a kid. Now? I don't think the show aged particularly well, and things that I loved now annoy me -- especially in the later years, once Alan Alda had become full of himself. My understanding is that the lyrics were written by Robert Altman's son (Altman, having directed the movie), who was a teenager at the time. So he made a buttload of money. It makes me think back to the crappy songs I wrote when I was a teenager. Too bad my dad wasn't a film director. "My Way" by Frank Sinatra
I'll be honest -- I prefer Sid Vicious' rendition. But I'm including this because it has a bit more popular appeal. One summer, I went upstate with Angry Bob (we were friends then) to a state fair. There we ate a lot, bet on pig races, and went into a recording booth to record our vocals over the karaoke track for this. I wish I still had that recording. Actually come to think of it, we did "Say Say Say." Bob had recorded this by himself some other time. Oh well. So much for my memory. "The Ballad of Harry Lewis" by Allan Sherman
Sherman's first album was part of the soundtrack to my childhood, and this was the first song on it. I uised to love Sherman, and would sing songs from this album for anyone who would listen (as well as anyone who wouldn't). Even though I didn't understand many of the jokes. Like "where the drapes of Roth are stored," which is one of the song's big laugh lines. Also related to that album, I remember singing "God bless you, Jerry Mendelbaum, but nothing you'll dismay" in yeshiva and having a teacher admonish me that it wasn't appropriate for a Jewish kid to be singing that. And I had no idea what she was on about.
Yesterday I posted videos of nontraditional Christmas songs.
Well, Christmas is over. But Chanukkah lives on! So here are some nontraditional Chanukkah songs. I wanted to include "Cheeseburger Deluxe by the World Famous Blue Jays. But I couldn't find it on Youtube.
Hannukah Rocks -- Gefilte Joe & the Fish
An old classic from Rhino Records. I think this was the B-Side of "Walk on the Kosher Side." Or was that the B-side. I don't recall.
Hannukah is Santa Monica -- Tom Lehrer
It's not really so much a Hannukah song as a pan-Judaic holiday song. Whatever. Oh, I also just learned that Tom Lehrer invented the Jell-O shot.
The Dreidel Song -- from "South Park"
I can't help it...I loved this.
The Channukah Song -- Adam Sandler
I've been torn about whether to include this, since Sandler is kind of uh...not for everyone. Lots of people love him. Lots of people can't frickin' stand him. I'm rare in that I'm kind of in the middle on him. He did a buttload of Channukah Songs, but I believe this is the original. Oh, yeah, he was wrong. Rod Carew is not Jewish.
The Rocky Hora Chanukah Song -- The Shomones
The fact that I'm including this should give you an idea of how slim the pickin's are.
So, since I couldn;t come up with enough appropriate songs to include, I'm going to supplement this list. Jewish holidays seem to all be a bout food. Except Yom Kippur and Tisha B'av which are about no food. So here are some songs about food.
Food -- The Takeaways
Some disposable but fun stuff from Stiff Records. I believe that's Sean Tyla doing a Dylan impression.
Food Glorious Food -- from "Oliver!"
This has a place in my heart, because the Oliver! soundtrack was a part of the soundtrack to my childhood. It -- technically, the soundtrack to the Broadway version -- was one of the half dozen or so records I listened to a lot. Then, years later, my sixth grade class put on a production of Oliver!, and I played Fagin. We also changed some of the lyrics to this song so that everything would be kosher.
Pico De Gallo -- Trout Fishing in America
Arguably the weakest on arguably the best album by TFIA. I was tempted to include "All I Want is a Proper Cup of Coffee" from this album, but Pico De Gallo is more of a food song.'
Banana Chips -- Shonen Knife
Shonen Knife did a whole bunch of songs about food. And I was torn between this and "Sushi Bar" from the same album. Tough call. Happy Hour, the album from which this came, is by far their best work.
Cheese and Onions -- The Rutles
From one of the best Beatles parodies ever.
Eat Steak -- The Reverend Horton Heat
I guess The R ev isn't a vegetarian.
Peter Percival Patterson's Pet Pig Porky -- The Monkees
OK, this was kind of a throwaway track that came right before "Pleasant Valley Sunday."
If Sugar Was as Sweet As You -- Joe Tex
I really know this song through the cover version by Rockpile. And I really prefer the cover, Rockpile being one of my favorite bands and all. But I cose to include this since I could still include...
A Knife and a Fork -- Rockpile
I have no clue how they ended up lip syncing this on a kids' show, but there you have it. And don't they look excited.
I Love Rocky Road -- "Weird Al" Yankovic
Food has been a frequent subject of Al's parodies. And I recall hearing that an artist asked that a parody not be about food. No idea if that was apocryphal.
As a nonChristian, I don't "celebrate" Christmas. But since I am a member of society Christmas is part of my reality. With that in mind, here for Christmas are some Christmas songs that I love. Or at least like a lot. Your mileage may vary.
Run Rudolph Run -- Chuck Berry
I came to know this song via Dave Edmunds' cover version. And I like that version better. But credit to the originator.
Father Christmas -- The Kinks
OK. It's not really Christamssy. Whatever...
Christmas in Hollis -- Run-DMC
I'm not the biggest rap fan, but there are some rap songs I like, and this is one of them. It also helps that I grew up near Hollis. And live near it today, while we're on the topic.
Stop the Cavalry -- Jona Lewie
A soldier on the front lines wishes to be with his family.
Snoopy's Christmas -- The Royal Guardsmen
Probably the dopiest song on this list, but I have a soft spot for the these guys.
The Night Santa Went Crazy -- "Weird Al" Yankovic
I have always liked Weird Al's original songs better than his parodies. And this is actually one of his best.
A Christmas Carol -- Tom Lehrer
Tom Lehrer is among the masters of comedy music. This bit of cynical folderol is a good example.
The Lonely Jew on Christmas -- Kyle Broflovski
This isn't quite the same version as I remember from the first South Park Christmas episode. The fact is it does do a pretty good job of capturing the feelings of many kids who feel left out.
Christmas at Ground Zero -- "Weird Al" Yankovic
Normally if I make a list like this I would purposely avoid including two songs by any one artist or band. I'll make an exception for Al.
I'm a Christmas Tree -- Wild Man Fischer and Dr. Demento
The less said about Wild Man Fischer the better. No, really.
Don't Shoot Me Santa -- The Killers
Why does this make me think I'm watching a Breaking Bad video?
Merry Christmas (I Don't Want to Fight Tonight) -- The Ramones
There's something about the Raomones' sound that I love. And this is classic Ramones.
The Season's Upon Us -- Dropkick Murphys
Among the best songs from one of the best Celtic-flavored punk bands. And maynbe, just maybe, they'll make you feel better about your own dysfunctional family.
I'm Gettin' Nuttin' for Christmas -- Spike Jones and the City Slickers
It's not Spike's best work, as he largely laid off the big sound effects. But it's cute and clever.
Hooray for Santy Claus -- from Santa Claus Conquers the Martians
A crappy Pia Zadora Christmas movie about Martians and Christmas spawned this upbeat tune, I was really tempted to include Sloppy Seconds' punk version instead, but respect for the original won out.
Christmas Wrapping -- The Waitresses
This is one of those songs that a new wave fan of my age couldn't help but hearing over and over.
It was 2004 -- a little over twelve years ago. The Society of Actuaries was having a meeting in New York. Somehow it was decided that, as part of the lunchtime program, there should be a play to illustrate the need for actuaries to have soft skills.
Tom Bakos wrote the play, which was titled "Educating Asa." I was a long-time member of the Academy's Committee on Professional Responsibility, and in that role I knew Bakos. I was also a bit of a ham with an unrequited dream of being an actor. So I was a natural choice to play the title role.
In my brief acting career, this was by far the biggest audience I ever performed for.
I look back at this video with a mix of pride and embarrassment. We actually had very little time to prepare and memorize our lines. There was only one rehearsal. We didn't have the luxury of costume changes, which was fine for the others. But Asa had to make a complete transformation. Given the constraints, I think I did pretty well with it. Ditching the pens from my shirt pocket, pulling the cuffs on my pants down to cover the (mismatched) socks. Putting on a jacket. But I couldn't perform a miracle. So I still had my five o'clock shadow. And I didn't completely fix the top of my pants, so the belt and waistline combo still look funky after the transition. But the point was made.
For that line about "...a pig like that you don't eat all at once," I was given freedom to pick whatever punchline I wanted. From any joke. I actually was tempted to go with "I don't know about the ones on the sides, but the one in the middle is Willie Nelson," which is one of my favorites. But the joke is overtly sexual. Still, I was tempted to go with it. Absent the context of the joke, the punchline isn't dirty at all. If anyone complained, I could plead ignorance. "Hey, you're the one with the dirty mind," I could argue, as if the punchline was some kind of Rorschach test. In the end I decided on a punchline from a nonsexual joke.
A few of my friends from work were at the meeting. Two of them knew in advance that I would be part of the lunchtime entertainment. A third, who was seated with them, didn't know in advance. Afterwards, I loved hearing about how his jaw dropped when he realized that it was me onstage.
Oh, for the record, I dress better than that when I'm at work.
Ethan and I have been feeling withdrawal symptoms since Keith's cinema history class has been on hiatus. I still have to write about the last thing he showed, The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes. But that's neither here nor there.
Anyway, to deal with the withdrawal, we decided to host a movie night. After consultation with Keith and Joe (from the class), we settled on the Hammer classic, These Are the Damned (1963). We have a copy on DVD as part of a small box set of six Hammer films. I am not familiar with this, but Ethan assures me that it must be good, since it's a Hammer Film. The trailer makes it look good.
Anyway, we're doing this at 4:00 on Monday, which is Boxing Day. Maybe we should be showing a boxing movie instead? And before y'all email to explain that Boxing Day has nothing to do with the sport, I know. It's just a bad joke.
I have been rethinking some of what I said in the post immediately prior to this.
I expressed some sympathy for the view that Electors should go rogue in order to prevent Donald Trump's ascension to the Presidency. I didn't endorse it, mind you, but I expressed sympathy for the view that that is the electors' job (if they find Trump to be uniquely unqualified). But I also said that using the electoral college in this way would do tremendous harm.
Upon rethinking, I have become less sympathetic to that view.
Notwithstanding the original purpose of the electors, this politicization of the EC is unprecendented. And worse, with Republican electors receiving death threats, this goes beyond "politicization." If, somehow, the effort succeeds, it will have, effectively, been a coup, overturning our democratic norms. It will be tremendously harmful to our republic, undermining the confidence our citizens have in our election process.
Arguably, it has already done harm, as we have now entered a new frontier. The idea is out there that the results from election day are still negotiable, and can be overturned via a barrage of letters and emails, and a few well-placed threats. It is imperative that the electors do their jobs. For the 306 Republican electors, that means voting for Trump. Anything short of that is a step on a road that is very dangerous for our country, its norms and its institutions.
Look, I didn't vote for Trump. I don't like him, and I am doubtful that he will be a good president. But he won the election. To deny him his win would be worse than he will be.
I've been debating with myself about whether to write something about this -- I generally avoid politics on this blog. And on Facebook, which is relevant since I link all of my blogposts to my Facebook feed. I didn't join Facebook to argue politics. But WTH.
Since it's relevant, I should say how I voted in the recent Presidential election. Faced with two egregiously bad choices, I wrote in Evan McMullin. I had the luxury of doing that since I live in a deep blue state. Had I lived in a purple state I would have held my nose and voted for Clinton. It seems odd to talk about deep blue versus purple, since until November 8 I assumed that Michigan, Wisconsin and Pennsylvania were blue. Go figure. Since It's also relevant, in 2000 (the last time the winner of the election didn't get the plurality of the popular vote), I voted for Gore. Though I did so with severe misgivings.
Before I go on, I should note that I am not interested in arguing who was the better candidate, or such matters. I am posting this specifically to talk about the electoral college.
With the electoral college vote (the election that truly matters) looming, many people who were disappointed with the November 8 results are hoping against hope to flip enough electors to make Clinton the next President. Or at least to make someone other than Trump the next president. Electors have been barraged by emails and phone calls. Some have been receiving threats. None of these attempts to flip the election results will succeed.
Why won't they succeed? Since Trump won 306 electors on Election day, 37 electors would have to go rogue for him to not win outright when the EC votes are counted. That would be unprecedented. And even then the election would go to the House of Representatives, which would be almost certain to make him the winner. In order for Clinton to win the election she'd have to win the EC vote outright, which means she'd have to pick up 38 of the electors sworn to Trump. Put simply, it ain't gonna happen.
Nor should it.
There are essentially two arguments for handing the election to Clinton:
1) she won the "popular vote"; and
2) Trump is egregiously unfit.
She won the "popular vote"
Irrelevant. The rules of the election are clear. You need 270 EC votes to win. Clinton knew that as well as anyone; she entered a contest that requires you to win 270 electoral votes regardless of the popular vote. Running up the score in New York or California doesn't change a thing. Had she won every vote in those states, it wouldn't change the electoral votes.
If you want to change the rules, go ahead and fight to have the rules changed. But you can't apply changes retroactively. Seems to me that should be Civics 101.
People saying that Clinton would have won the election if it went by popular vote are simply wrong. She would have won the election if it went by popular vote and everyone voted (or didn't vote) the same way. That's a really big assumption, and it's wrong. The candidates and their strategists knew the game, and played to win. That is, they were trying to maximize their chances of winning the EC. They were not trying to win the popular vote.
There are other arguments, but they generally fall into the more general issue of whether we should switch to a popular vote system. I'll address them when I address that question. As far as the issue at hand -- determining the 2016 winner, the simple fact is that you don't change the rules after you've played the game.
Oh, and if you're making this argument, I have a simple question: Suppose the shoe were on the other foot. If Clinton had won the EC, but Trump had won the popular vote, would you arguing that Clinton's electors should flip to make Trump the president? If not, then you're not really arguing on principle.
Trump is egregiously unfit
I actually have some sympathy for this argument. One of the reasons we have the system we do is so that electors can act as a last stand, preventing an unfit candidate from becoming president. So, at least in principle, the argument makes sense.
While Trump is a terrible choice for President, is he so egregiously unfit that he should be denied the presidency? I think that denying him the presidency now would be tremendously harmful to the country. More harmful than he would be. A big reason that Trump won is that there are millions of people who feel that the political class ignores their concerns and doesn't listen to them. Now they have gone to the polls, and Trump emerged as the apparent winner. Denying him the presidency will simply confirm their concerns about the political class.
Also, it's a dangerous path to go down -- overturning a clear EC victory. That would be the height of arrogance on the part of the elites.
Now is the time for those of us who don't like Trump to hope he's better than we fear, to support him when he's right and to oppose him when he's wrong. There are two other branches of government to counter his overreach (assuming he does overreach), and impeachment is a possibility in case of extreme circumstances. And even without anything that extreme, we'll have a chance to trade him in in four years.
It was on roadtrip 2001. We were in Montana, staying with friends. Well, Blair's friends, anyway. I had just met them on this visit.
We sat down to a meal. Elk that their daughter had hunted. But before we started eating, Grace. Not a big deal. I can sit silently while someone else says a prayer. But they asked me to say Grace.
Ah, what? I was caught by surprise. In retrospect, I should have seen it coming. This was a Christian Fundamentalist family running a ranch in rural Montana. Saying Grace before the meal made sense. And asking me to lead Grace was a token of respect and friendship. It was an honor. But one that I felt mildly uncomfortable with. I'm a Jew from New York, so the main Grace is said after eating. And the short before-meal prayer is complicated by a ritual of handwashing. Further, I'm not exactly a model of religiosity; Blair and I joke that we are nonpracticing Orthodox Jews. But the emphasis is on "nonpracticing."
Still, I didn't want to insult our hosts. Thinking fast, I came up with a loose translation of the first paragraph of the Hebrew Grace After Meals. The following is a translation from the Chabad website. This isn't exactly what I said, but I was close.
Blessed are You, L-rd our G‑d, King of the universe, Who, in His goodness, provides sustenance for the entire world with grace, with kindness, and with mercy. He gives food to all flesh, for His kindness is everlasting. Through His great goodness to us continuously we do not lack [food], and may we never lack food, for the sake of His great Name. For He, benevolent G‑d, provides nourishment and sustenance for all, does good to all, and prepares food for all His creatures whom He has created, as it is said: You open Your hand and satisfy the desire of every living thing. Blessed are You, L-rd, Who provides food for all.
It went over great! I, the perpetual ham, was in my element. But the best was yet to come. I managed to get a D'var Torah out of this. Pointing out that -- while I said this before the meal -- it was really meant to be said after the meal. I tied that up with a quote from the third paragraph:
When you have eaten and are satiated, you shall bless the L-rd your G‑d for the good land which He has given you.
In other words, give thanks after the meal.
And don't get me started on how I recited T'filat Ha'derech when Blair and I were leaving and they wanted me to lead a prayer for our safe travels...
Keith's decision to present a month of Sherlock Holmes films in our cinema history class has been a good introduction to the character, since I had never seen a Sherlock Holmes film before. Now, with the third week's file, The Spider Woman, I finally saw Holmes portrayed by Basil Rathbone, who is possibly the iconic movie Holmes.
To the older guys in the class, this was what it was all supposed to be. From their childhood memories of Sherlock Holmes movies on TV, Rathbone is the king. I disn't come into this with any kind of bias about who is the definitive Sherlock Holmes. So, from my perspective, Basil Rathbone was fine. But I didn't see where he is necessarily better or more right for the part than Peter Cushing or John Neville. But I did enjoy the interplay between Rathbone and Nigel Bruce in a way that I hadn't enoyed either of the other Holmes/Watson pairings.
Of course, that interplay was one aspect of this movie that was more intelligent than either of the other offerings. Gale Sondergaard, as the titular villain is great. In many ways, she is the perfect match for Holmes. And she would have beaten him too if not for a few unlucky breaks.
This was a very intelligent movie -- in some ways it made me think of Preston Sturges. It was far and away more intelligent than either of the other two Holmes films Keith showed us so far (Hound of the Baskervilles (1959) and A Study in Terror (1965)). But for all that, I think I preferred A Study in Terror. With the vivid colors, and the music, it was just a more interesting experience.
Because this was a relatively short film (63 minutes, IIRC), Keith also showed us a TV episode of some Sherlock Holmes series. This had Christopher Plummer in it, so it should have been good, but I couldn't help myself trying to see a trace of Gorkon in him. We followed up with (courtesy of Joe) a viewing of "Deduce, You Say," a Looney Tunes cartoon featuring Daffy Duck and Porky Pig as Holmes and Watson trying to track down the Shropshire Slasher. God, I forgot how much I love Looney Tunes.
A few random notes (spoiler alert):
In the climax, I noted that the trap laid out for Holmes seemed like something out of Batman. Joe confirmed that Batman did, in fact, lift that trap. However, while the Caped Crusader excaped through cunning and good preparation, Holmes' escape was largely due to a combination of luck and Watson's incompetence. But seriously, why would Batman have shoes with bulletproof soles but not a bulletproof costume?
I generally prefer Bugs Bunny over Porky Pig and Daffy Duck. But Bugs would not have worked in either role in "Deduce, You Say."
"Name?" "Shropshire Slasher" "Occupation?" "Shropshire Slasher" Gets me every time
Misdirection was one of the strengths of this movie. There are several times that the viewer is led to be certain of one thing, only have it be wrong.
I'm not sure how I feel about Sherlock Holmes being placed in a World War II timeframe. Then again, since I'm not a big Holmes person, what do I care?
When I was growing up, I attended an orthodox yeshiva. Not a black hatter type place, but Orthodox. There were a bunch of nonorthodox families whose kids went there. Every year the question would come up: Is it OK for Jews to celebrate Thanksgiving.
It seems like an odd question. But we were taught not to celebrate other religions' religious holidays. Thanksgiving isn't another religion's holiday, but it's not a Jewish holiday either. The answer was generally along the lines of "What could be better than devoting a day to being thankful.
But in some more religious circles, they don't make a big deal of Thanksgiving. It's not so much that they are against it, as that they don't do it. I suspect part of it may be that it's Thursday night. Since many Orthodox families have a big dinner on Friday night for the Sabbath. Having two nights of big meals in a row may be a bit much.
For some reason, I was curious about what my Orthodox colleagues do. So I asked one of them by IM. Here's how the exchange went: Me: Does your family celebrate Thanksgiving?
Colleague: Every day.
Me: Touche.
Colleague: Seriously. The first words out of our mouths when our eyes open in the morning are "Modeh ani."* Later we say Psalm 100**, as well as the Modim*** blessing three times a day. Every day. Brochos**** before and after eating -- every single meal.
Me: Yes. I understand. Does your family do anything special on the last***** Thursday of November that many people in the US would associate with the national holiday, "Thanksgiving"?
Colleague: Turkey and extended family get together -- no, although I have done so in my life. But my wife attends communal gatherings at the mall the next day.
*"I give thanks"
** The Psalm of Gratitude
*** a specifc prayer of gratitude that's part of the thrice-daily prayers
**** prayers. In this case, he is referring to the simple prayer of thanks before the meal and the longer Grace after meals.
***** Yeah, you got me. I should have said "fourth Thursday"
I don't know if anyone here is interested in Trivia Crack. I am. It has become my main smartphone-based time-waster.
Anyway, I've been noticing recently that the first choice seems to be correct more often than would be expected by raw chance. By way of background, for anyone who doesn't, and hasn't, played T-Crack, questions come with four choices.
Now, sometimes such perceptions can be off. So I decided to do a little checking. I will track how many times the right choice comes up in each of the four positions. To be clear, I will not always track this. If I'm on the bus without pen and paper, I don't want that to keep me from playing. But what I will do is explicitly decide, before the fact, that I will track results for a particular session. Put another way, I won't decide, after playing, that I will track the results for questions already asked. Doing that would introduce the possibility of me subconsciously biasing the results. But if I only include results that come after I have made the explicit decision to track what happens in a particular session, and if I always include the results once I have made the decision, that should eliminate the possibility of self-deception.
So far, I have done this twice, for two games. My results are summarized in the table. In the two games I played, I had 39 questions. Of those, the first choice was correct 23 times. That's more than half.Now, I am not sure how significant 39 questions is as a sample size. But I think this is suggestive. Remember -- it's not as if I played these games, realized that the first choice was correct a lot and then saved the results. I decided before playing that I would track the results because I suspected that the first choice would come up a lot.
I will report back after I have a larger sample. I don't know that keeping the split by category matters, though it will be interesting to see if I can notice a difference. Right now, what I have does not suggest anything. At least not to me. But I realize I don't have enough enough data to make any strong conclusions.
If anyone else plays T-Crack, I'd be curious to know if you're seeing the same thing. Also, what platform you play on -- if this is some glitch in the software I wonder if it's unique to Android (my platform) or if it's a cross-platform issue.
Perhaps I shouldn't post this. If there is a glitch, then knowing that fact gives me a competitive advantage over those who don't know. Posting this makes it more likely that others will know, and more likely that it will get fixed.
So, just consider that I am possibly sacrificing my T-Crack performance in the name of science. Or whatever.
I was discussing probability with a colleague, and the conversation reminded me of an incident in college.
For the purpose of this narrative, I will present a lot of verbal exchanges using quotation marks. That is just a convenience for the purposes of telling the story. Except for the final punchline, I don't remember what was said verbatim.
In a probability class, the professor was introducing us to the concept of hypothesis testing. She asked us: "If I flip a coin 100 times and it lands on heads each time, how likely is it the it's a fair coin?"
What she meant to ask -- and it was a long time before I realized this -- was, "If I have a fair coin, and flip it 100 times, how likely is it to come up heads each time."
The difference may seem subtle, but it's crucial. The answer to the question she meant to ask is (1/2)^100, which is tiny. But the question she actually asked cannot be answered without more information.
She expected a straightforward answer, but I said that it depends.
"On what?"
"On how certain you were that it was a fair coin before you started flipping it."
She insisted that that was irrelevant. It was really unlikely that I had a fair coin if I flipped it and got heads 100 times.
"If I pulled it from a drawer of coins, and I know that half -- or even 1% -- of the coins in the drawer are double-headed, sure. But what if I have absolutely perfect knowledge going in that it's a fair coin? Then, even after 100 heads in a row -- or 1000, or 10,000 -- I still know it's a fair coin."
We went back and forth for a while, restating the question and related logic. I didn't realize what she had meant to ask. And she had gotten so caught up that she didn't realize her mistake. Eventually it became clear that the discussion wasn't productive. And she had to move on with the lesson.
Today was the last Long Island Daylily Society (LIDS) meeting of the year.
Pot luck lunch, slides from a few members' gardens, door prizes. All that folderol.
But some other matters that are of interest to me.
One of the things that's been on my mind about LIDS is that I'd like to get more involved. And the opportunity may have presented itself. One fact presented is that LIDS was asked about hosting the 2018 regional convention. We, as a club, have to decide whether we want to host, and we will be making that decision by vote in the January meeting. I mentioned to Blair (and she agreed) that we should agree to host -- that we'd be foolish not to. Caught talking, I was cajoled into standing up in front of the group to share my thoughts. It was like being back in school, told to share what I said with the whole room.
So I shared. And there was some joking about how I just volunteered to run the event. Uh...yeah...
I was approached after the meeting and asked if Blair and I would be willing to work on the convention. FIrst thing, I made sure that I wasn't asked to be in charge. I've never bee to a daylily convention, and don't know what all is involved. But it looks like I'll be part of a core of people doing the work. Assuming LIDS decides to go for it...
Keith's film class in the basement continues with week two of our Sherlock Holmes session. This time it was A Study in Terror (1965), starring John Neville and Sherlock Holmes. Not counting the stupid Sherlock Holmes episodes of Star Trek the Next Generation*, this was my second exposure to the Holmes character. The first was a week prior, when Keith showed us the 1959 production of The Hound of the Baskervilles.
Short answer? I loved this film.
Study isn't a horror movie; it's more of a crime drama/mystery. In the discussion afterwards, I said it seems to me like a krimi, though I don't really know what exactly that genre entails. Keith seemed intrigued by that observation, though he explained that the krimis typically involved criminal plots that were more complicated.
The key to why I enjoyed this movie is that it was well-paced and riveting. Like any good mystery, it had me guessing the whole time. In addition, there were some good comedic moments (including Sherlock's scene with his brother Mycroft -- who was admirably portrayed by Robert Morley). And since this was a restored version on blu-ray disc, the color was wonderful.
As an aside, I note that a lot of this movie seemed like it was right out of Oliver! In fact, during a couple of the bar scenes I kept expecting Georgia Brown (who was playing the role of the singer) tyo start belting out "Oom-Pah-Pah" And a couple of times I thought I was looking at Bill Sikes. And, who knows? Maybe that association played a role in my enjoying the film. Oliver! is one of my favorite musicals -- the Broadway soundtrack is one of the records I associate with my childhood, and I played Fagin in my sixth grade class production. My apologies to the curious: that performance is not available on Youtube.
As I noted in a prior post, I wasn't crazy about the 1959 Hammer version of Hound of the Baskervilles, so I actually had low expectations going into this. But this helped restore my faith in the possibilities of Sherlock Holmes. Even if the character is an a-hole.
*Data, the android, had an obsession with Holmes. Data was the most annoying regular on the show (with the possible exceptions of Picard, Riker, Troi, La Forge and Wesley Crusher). But that's another matter.
Is anyone familiar with the appropriately named Jackass films? These films are vignettes of a crew of guys, headed by Johnny Knoxville, playing practical jokes and pranks on each other, or doing distasteful things on dares. A few examples?
One guy ate horse manure on a dare.
A couple guys were tricked into getting into a limousine. Once they were in, the doors were locked and bees were poured in through the moonroof.
One guy allowed himself to be branded on the backside (with a red hot brand shaped like a penis.
You get the idea.
These don't interest me, but I have, unfortunately, seen a bunch of these stunts and pranks. Which is a bunch more than I need. But I learned something today that has me wondering. In one incident, a member of the crew was convinced to have his tooth pulled by a Lamborghini. That is, they tied it to the back of a car and had the driver burn rubber. In order to convince him to allow this, they paid a dentist to tell him the tooth was infected and needed to be pulled.
How is that not a violation of medical ethics? How come that dentist hasn't been censured?
The relevant video is below. But it is definitely NSFL.
What last I yammered about this stuff, I was looking at the lengths of World Series droughts. That was inspired by the Cubs victory, which ended their streak of more than 100 years. And I was thinking about the Mets (my team of choice) and the fact that they haven't won in 30 years.
But although 30 years is a long time, it's not really an extraordinary drought, since there are 30 teams. With 30 teams, we can really only expect a team to win once every 30 years (on average). This led me to wonder about the Mets: Have they won their share of World Series? The answer isn't entirely obvious. There have been 54 World Series since they were enfranchised. With two wins, they've won more than 1 in 30. But for most of the time they existed, there were fewer teams.
To answer the question (and the analogous question for each other team), I came up with a statistic (which I will call a team's Wins per share ratio). The goal is to calculate how many World Series a team has won, divided by the number they would have been expected to win if wins were evenly distributed among the teams. For a given team, this statistic is taken by adding 1/Nt for all years, t that the team existed (and a World Series was played, where Nt is the number of teams existing in year t. To take a simple example, if a team has existed for six years, during which there were 30 teams, and they won 1 World Series, then their statistic is 1 / (6 / 30) = 5. This means that they have won 5 times as many World Series as their share.
The accompanying table shows the 30 existing franchises and their ratios. By way of background (for those not into MLB history), the modern World Series began in 1903, and has been played every year since then except for 1904 and 1994. For the years in that span, the number of teams was as follows:
16 teams through 1960
18 teams in 1961
20 teams from 1962 through 1968
24 teams from 1969 through 1976
26 teams from 1977 through 1992
28 teams from 1993 through 1997
30 teams from 1998 onward
I am not considering Federal League teams, since the FL did not participate in the World Series.
It should come as no surprise that the Yankees sit atop the list, having won nearly five times as many World Series as their share. My Mets have won just fewer than their share.
One quick anecdote about this. When I did my first draft of these calculations, I made a mistake and had the Yankees winning 4.80 times their share. I IM'd a friend at work about it. Then when I realized I had made a mistake, I IM'd him to say it was actually 4.74. His response? "I thought 4.80 looked a little strange."
In coming up with themes for the sessions of the cinematic history class, Keith has often taken suggestions from those of us in the class. Which makes sense, since he's -- at least to a degree - catering to us.
This past week we started a session of Sherlock Holmes movies -- it was Ethan's suggestion -- with Hammer Films' 1959 production of The Hound of the Baskervilles.
Starring Peter Cushing, Christopher Lee and Andre Morel, this should have been better than it was. Ethan tweeted that he enjoyed it, but it was still his least favorite Hammer film (which, I suppose, is a tribute to how good Hammer was). I noted -- and the others agreed -- that this was more of a live action Scooby Doo than horror film. Still and all, Cushing and Lee were good enough that we generally gave this film high grades.
The shameful admission for me is that this is -- I think -- the first time I've seen a Sherlock Holmes film. And I've never read a Sherlock Holmes book. I have seen all those annoying episodes of Star Trek: The Next Generation where Data recreates Holmes in the holodeck. So I've got that going for me, which is nice.
The Long Island Motor Parkway will always be in my mind as a part of my childhood. That's because
The end of the bike trail, at Union Turnpike and Winchester Boulevard
a part of it formed a bicycle path from Cunningham Park (near my home) to Alley Pond Park (a few miles away). That section formed a bicycle path, running through suburban Queens, which my sister, my father and I rode quite often. Together and apart. We called that section "The Bike Path." Short and sweet.
The bike path, or at least the paved part of it that we used, began just East of the Clearview Expressway and North of Union Turnpike. It ran Eastward, through the trees between rows of backyards. There were a few access points -- one at Bell Blvd, and one at Springfield Blvd. It crossed those North-South Boulevards via bridges. It entered Alley Pond Park a few blocks East of Springfield Blvd, and then swept downward. There was a gentle curve to the right, then down under the Grand Central Parkway. It continued downhill, sweeping back to the left. Then, further down, you could see Union Turnpike to your right and the fields of Alley Pond Park to your left. Finally, it starts climbing, and you reach a dead end atop an embankment. Facing Winchester Blvd, you've reached the end. The embankment is there because the LIMP used to continue on to the East, crossing Winchester Blvd. via bridge, and going through what is now Creedmor Psychiatric Center.
I haven't been on that path in years, but it remains a part of my childhood memories.
I was unaware that there is a historical society dedicated to researching the LIMP, and preserving its history. I guess it stands to reason, but the thought had never crossed my mind. At any rate, this past Saturday I found myself on Creedmor's grounds because of an advertised event -- a walk to explore the first new discovery about the LIMP in years. So Asher and I went to see what the hoohah was all about.
Asher at the tunnel entrance
The discovery was an underground walkway, crossing under Union Turnpike. We gathered at the North entrance, a nondescript weathered staircase on the hospital grounds. We could walk down the stairs, but the actual walkway was closed off by a locked door. We could peer through the door and see a long damp corridor with a hint of light at the other end. Howard Kroplick, a historian with the Long Island Motor Parkway preservation Society was talking about the LIMP and the underground walkway. He explained that the other end, located south of Union Turnpike was grated up. But the staff at Creedmor goes through the tunnel periodically to make sure all is OK.
This kind of puzzled me. The tunnel was a new discovery? How did that make sense? The entrance was maybe ten yards from the parking lot. The entrance to the tunnel was walled up with a locked door. The other end was grated shut. And Creedmor's staff goes through it periodically to check that it's sound. That didn't jibe.
Kroplick (or someone else -- I forget) explained that the staff at Creedmor knew of the tunnel since forever. But they didn't know that it had anything to do with the LIMP, and the Preservation Society was unaware of its existence.
There were blueprints out, and we could walk down to take a peak at the tunnel entrance. Kroplick told us stories of his time chasing LIMP-related history. My favorite story involved the building of a new bicycle path at Bethpage State Park. Workers found parkway under the surface of the ground, and realized there had been a road there. The Preservation Society was called in to investigate before construction of the bike path continued. I enjoyed the irony of Kroplick complaining that they had paved over the road.
All was going well. Asher and I were having a good time. Then the police arrived.
For the most part, in Keith's home-taught cinema-history class we screen one movie each week. There have been two exceptions -- during the role-reversal weeks Joe made presentations that involved TV episodes.
Well, last Thursday became another exception. An hour and a half of movie trailers. I can't even begin to try to list the films whose trailers were included. Except for The Virgin Witch. That one I remember.
Watching a long program of trailers is definitely a different experience than watching one movie. In many ways it was enjoyable. Instead of one story we got a few dozen. And many of these trailers were likely better than the movies themselves. It was actually a lot of fun, acting as the crew in a MST3K episode, tossing out barbs and heckling the screen. And it also served to provide ideas for what we'd like to see. "Hey, Keith, add this one to the list" was a constant refrain. And it's definitely useful to get a sense of the sensibilities that were at play in the film industry.
Joe suggested making this an annual tradition, and I think that's going to happen, which will make this the class' third tradition. The other traditions being our month of spaghetti westerns and our role-reversal month (which I have generally referred to as bring your own month).
I was thinking about the Cubs' victory in the World Series, and how it brings to a close the longest championship drought in Major League Baseball history. And what I was thinking the most is that this is an area ripe for the StoopidStats treatment.
First of all, I should note that I take issue with the fact that people are saying that the cubs ended a 108-year drought. They last won the World Series in 1908. By that logic, when a team wins the WS for the second time in a row, they are ending a one-year drought. That being the case, I think it's more appropriate to say that the Cubs ended a 107-year drought. But who am I to fight the world? Since I can't find the world, I am accepting that a drought's length is X-Y where X and Y are years that the team in question won the World Series, and they didn't win in any intervening year. Where X is the team's first win, I take Y to be 1902 (the last year before the inception of the modern World Series. Where Y is the team's most recent win, I take X to be 2016 (the current year). Although baseball's championship was called the World Series during some years in the 1800's, I am only considering the modern World Series, which began in 1903.
Now that the Cubs' drought is over, the longest active drought belongs to the Indians who are stuck in a 68-year jag. There have been a total of 141 droughts, which is equal to F+P-1 where F is the number of franchises (30) and P is the number of World Series played (111). That includes 23 one-year droughts which, per above, represent a team winning the series a second, third, fourth or fifth time in a row. Table 1 shows the 30 longest droughts, and table 2 shows each franchise's longest drought. A note about the second table -- there are 31 entries because the Cardinals have had two 24-year droughts, which are tied for the franchise's longest.
Table 2: Each franchise's longest drought
Droughts these days are necessarily longer than droughts from years past, simply because there are more franchises. With 30 teams, each one wins, on average, once every 30 years. When there were only 16 teams, each one won, on average, once every 16 years. I should put something together that normalizes adjusts drought length for the number of teams. The task is made more difficult by the fact that many of these droughts span years that included expansions. So it's not as if I can multiply each drought's length by a simple factor. More troubling is how to handle the two years (1904 and 1994) that didn't have a World Series. I am open to suggestions.
I presented a chart of all major league baseball franchises and their cumulative games above .500 (along with a table of active franchises ranked by wins) here.
Then I combined the franchises based on the geographic location indicated in their names. That chart and table are here.
For my third trick, I combine the teams based on their home state. Note that for these purposes I treat the District of Columbia, Quebec and Ontario as if they are states. To date, 28 states have had major league franchises. Of those, 19 had at least one franchise in 2016. The winningest, New York, has had 27,614 wins and stands 3,279 wins over .500 -- thanks largely to the Yankees and their significantly winning record. In 28th is Iowa, whose only major league team, the Keokuk Westerns, went 1-12 in 1875.
While New York and Pennsylvania are ahead in wins, it's only a matter of time before California, with five franchises, passes them. Barring changes in the the number and/or locations of teams, that is. New York and Pennsylvania are ahead simply because they each had three teams for the majority of the 20th century, and two teams for most or all of the rest. California didn't hava franchise until 1958 when the Dodgers and Giants moved there. It expanded to three with the inception of the Angels in 1961, then to four when the A's moved to Oakland in 1968 and five when the Padres were introduced in 1969.
By the way, in 2016 Florida (with two teams) passed Washington (one team) to move into 15th place.
In my last post, I presented my graph of the cumulative games above 500 stat for every major league baseball franchise. That post was here.
One thing that I didn't mention is that I also track wins, losses and games over .500 by location. That is, grouping franchises by the location indicated ion their names. the "New York Yankees" are part of New York. The "Texas Rangers" are part of Texas. Note that, in this scheme, some franchises have different parts of their records attributed to different locations. For example, the Dodgers' record through 1957 is part of Brooklyn. Their record since 1958 is part of Los Angeles. There have been 54 different locations represented in the major leagues, and the graph is as follows:
The locations, listed in order of wins (most to least) is at right. Among locations that no longer have a franchise, the one with the most wins is Brooklyn.
As promised, here is another edition of stoopid stats for Major League Baseball. It has been noted to me that I really should provide access to the underlying spreadsheet. I don't deny that. And I offer my apologies to anyone who wants to look at it and can't. At some point I'll be up to doing such things.
Sometime around 30 years ago I started thinking about how cool it would be to see a massive graph
Cumulative won-loss totals for every major league franchise
showing every major league team's cumulative games above .500 (i.e., wins minus losses), as that stat progressed from year to year. It was impractical to undertake such a project without using a spreadsheet, so I didn't really pursue it until Lotus 123 (or am I dating myself) became one of my everyday tools. Now I have a spreadsheet tracking this, which I update every year.
The graph (as it exists as of 2016) is above. Another acknowledgement: It would be great to have a legend. But it wouldn't be that great. There have been 113 franchises (including defunct ones), so a full legend would be largely useless. But, for what it's worth, that red line at the top is the Yankees, who have (by far) the best record.
Of course, that doesn't mean that the Yankees have the most wins. They are actually eighth by that measure. Of course, fifteen franchises are older than they are. The eight non-expansion NL teams all date to the second half of the 1800s. The other seven non-expansion AL teams date back to 1901. The Yankees date back to 1903 -- the year they entered the league, replacing the AL Baltimore Orioles. Ranking the teams by win totals give us the table at right. For these purposes I am only including the current 30 teams. If you really want to see this table, including all 83 defunct franchises, let me know. But among defunct franchises, the one with the most wins was also the Baltimore Orioles who played in the AA from 1882-1891 and the NL from 1892-1899, compiling a record of 1,133 and 1,049. And they had fewer wins than the Rays who are behind the rest of the Major League pack.
Of interest (at least to me), the Yankees entered the 2016 season with exactly 10,000 wins. I actually hadn't noticed until after this year. That's because, until now I've been treating the 1901-1902 Orioles and the current Yankees as the same franchise. That was my understanding, based on the sources available when I started this project a couple decades ago. But in recent years the baseball historians reexamined the history and concluded that the replacement of the Orioles with the Highlanders (who would eventually come to be called the Yankees) really involved the dissolution of one franchise and creation of a new one. I don't know the exact criteria they used, or exactly how they arrived at that conclusion. I imagine it's as much art as science. But I'm going to accept their judgement. Problem is, that involves modifying my files.
Also, in 2016 the Dogers passed the Braves to become the third winningest franchise.
Every so often, I've been in conversations that turn to Gilligan's Island, and someone talks about some aspect of the show that doesn't make sense:
How come they all had so much clothing?
If the Professor can build all that neat stuff out of what's on the island, how come he can't fix the boat?
How does the Professor happen to know everything about everything?
Invariably, these conversations end with a chuckle as someone notes that it's Gilligan's frickin' Island, and there's no point in looking for sense. But this guy takes his GI inconsistencies seriously.
I am not a Lucio Fulci fan. I guess that's my takeaway from Thursday's film class at Keith's. Before the class, I'd seen one of his movies. To the best of my knowledge. That one movie was The House by the Cemetery, which I saw this past August as part of the all-night horror film festival at the Cinema Arts Center. I wrote about that movie as part of my post here. The relevant paragraph?
A family moves to New England and finds themselves haunted by the house's former owner. The story is well-constructed and interesting, and this is done very well. But it relies on a lot of blood and guts and gross-out visuals as well as jump scares, and I'm not into that. If you are, then you may find this to be a really good movie.
Except for the first sentence, which described the plot, that paragraph could apply to City of the Living Dead, the Fulci film that Keith showed us.
The camerawork was very good, and the music was compelling. But, dang, how many times can I watch someone get his or her scalp pulled off? And the other grossities? A woman literally pukes her guts out. A guy gets his face drilled on a lathe. And lots of other stuff I'm not into.
This was an interesting film for the visuals. And I'm still trying to figure out the whole gimmick of zombies that can appear and disappear at will Maybe "demons" is a better word than "zombies." And, in a sense I can kind of see this as part of the transition of the horror film industry into the realm of slasher movies.
