Welcome to part IV of Hysterical History, where we take a deep-dive into the shenanigans of Prohibition. Part I focused on how Carries changed the US. Part II discussed the law and the loopholes. Part III talked about enforcement issues. And it just continues to get more ridiculous: We really aren’t living in the first Clown World.
Welcome to Hystory: Hysterical History. Pull up your fainting couches while an old spork explores Prohibition. If you’re already prone because I made up a word, this is going to be a rough ride. It gets much, much more ridiculous. Turns out we’re not living in the first Clown World.
Meet Carrie Nation. It was a different era in the early 1900s: They had Carries. Mrs. Nation hated all things booze and started a local branch of the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union in Medicine Lodge, Kansas, in 1889. It wasn’t very popular because Carrie was terrible at marketing. She didn’t have the face for it. Continue reading
I didn’t cry at my wedding. I didn’t cry at my Dad’s funeral. I didn’t cry when Glyph crashed her tricycle into my car, all those many years ago. I did cry when my first dog died, but that was before two heart attacks and one clown world, and my heart has since shriveled into a terrifying thumping raisin. And no, because I know you are going to ask, I didn’t cry at either heart attack.
Now, I’m not quite sure why we haven’t run a happy, happy fun tears story at Tempest in a Teardrop before now [Codex: Editor here. We’ve never run across one.], but that changes today! Pull out your tissues, nestle close with a scoop of your favorite ice cream, and let’s celebrate the human race. For the first time.
You should know that this story begins in Poland, travels around the world, and then ends there. I can’t read Polish. Or Chinese. Or Brazilian. Wait… a chunk of my family is from Brazil. I’d better mention they speak Portuguese there. I don’t read Portuguese. This means that I may have some of the details wrong. I’ve tried to do real research on the internet before, and it rarely goes well. [Codex: Editor again. That translates into the more fanciful stuff below is hyperbole. If you can’t tell which parts, then you should probably stick to Yahoo! sports.]
Meet little Miloszek Malysa. If you are reading this behind enemy lines in the United States: that’s a baby. A live one. Little Miloszek has a serious heart defect at the ripe old age of 8 months. In Poland they have medical care and don’t turn babies into vaccine goo. Unfortunately, only surgeons in Los Angeles can perform the operation. They need money to fly from Poland, that’s the country sandwiched between Russia and France, hire security, sneak him into the hospital, get him the life-saving operation he needs, and then sneak him back to Poland, Mission: Impossible style.
* A continuation from yesterday’s post. Still not funny. *
Americans have a history of rugged individualism & manifest destiny. We generally deal with interfering busybodies by ignoring them when we can, and paying their bribe when we can’t. Europeans deal with corruptocrats in subtle ways that we have to admire. Now is the time to learn from our European cousins. We’re all fighting the same enemy. Continue reading
We’re a site of humor. Not today.
The debacle going on in Afghanistan has repercussions that nobody has mentioned. But in order to tell you that story, I have to tell you this one. Continue reading
*** This originally ran in 2017 and was then heavily revised in 2018. I’ve updated it again for 2021, since there are many more reasons to hold mostly peaceful protests. ***
Some people are pitchfork people. They like the heft, the balance, and the soothing calm that comes from sharpening evenly-spaced tines. Pitchforks look deadly. They are a practical yet humble implement used by commoners to work the land. When it’s time for 1776 shenanigans, pitchfork people herd oligarchical despots like snakes to a mongoose convention. Just as God intended. If you don’t find a cartoon-ish jab to the behinds of bankers, TV doctors, and corruptocrats as spectacularly hilarious as myself…
…then you are probably a torch person.
Torch people favor the agility a lit torch grants during disorderly political rallies. They enjoy the soothing calm that comes from staring into a dancing flame. Torches are the tool of alchemists, using a secret chemical reaction which few can explain, but everyone can understand. Making despotic autocrats do a heat-avoidance jig is humiliating and effective. Fire cleanses in a righteous manner. Also as God intended. Continue reading