Printimpolivre-bioxene is both an hallucinogen and a paranoic. A reasonably well known compound to medical science (at least, in 2085), it is particularly effective against the alien Shorshian race.
Continue reading Printimpolivre-bioxene
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Only three facts are known about the circumstances of the Great King Rat’s death: the proximate cause was syphillis, it was forty-four years to the day since his birth, and the date was May 21st. Even the year is an estimate. It is known that the Great King Rat was, at the time of his death, a notorious dirty old man, and my feeling is that he was probably involved with organized crime syndicates in London. Given the cause of his death, it seems likely that he did not use condoms. Referenced in: Great King Rat — Queen
The next Bookmadness book will also be featured in Militant Agnostic. That’s because tomorrow, I begin a look at A.C. Grayling’s The Good Book: A Secular Bible. Grayling his taken it upon himself to write a new version of the Bible, which, while hardly free of moralising, at least cuts down on the scientific inaacuracies. As an agnostic, this endeavour fascinates me as a thought experiment, which is why I want to analyse it in this way. (I’ve dipped into it a little already, and I can tell you right now that I won’t be spending much time talking about the prose style. Suffice to say, it seems that two of the aspects of the Bible that Grayling wanted to replicate were tedium and didacticism.) We’re going to be here a while folks – this is a huge book, and I want to give it the attention it deserves. I hope you’ll come along for the ride. Wieldy
For those wishing a more detailed reading order than is provided by the relevant page of the Marvel Universe Timeline, The Centre Cannot Hold is proud to present this page, offering the first of many such guides. Happy reading! Allowing for the anachronic nature of much of the storytelling, this reading order attempts to create an issue-by-issue ordering of the crossover, rather than just listing the collections reprinting it (as on the main timeline).
Appearing as “The Dick Clark Five”, the first gig by the band that would become the Butthole Surfers took place at the Shown-Davenport Art Gallery, in San Antonio, Texas. The occasion was the opening of an art exhibit by band-member Scott Mathews, and fellow artist Cheryl Dawn Dyer. The original lineup of the band featured Mathews, Gibby Haynes, Scott Stevens and Paul Leary. Over the years, members would come and go, but Leary and Haynes, the co-founders of the band, would remain its constants, with both men singing and playing guitar. (Haynes also played saxophone, and is generally considered the lead singer of the band.) Referenced in: The Fez — The Dead Milkmen
Avondale Heights is all that remains of the much larger area once known as Avondale, named in tribute to the Bard of Avon, William Shakespeare. It was originally settled by the Batman party in 1836, a few months after their initial arrival in Melbourne. The area called Avondale extended a considerable distance to the south and west of the current Avondale Heights. A thoughtful observer might notice that modern day Avondale Heights consists primarily of a stretch of the eastern bank of the Maribyrnong River, a notably low-lying area. Based on that, they might well wonder how the area came to be called a Heights. But if the name is no longer accurate, this is not to say that it never was. In truth, the area that still holds the name of Avondale was the highest part of old Avondale when the area was first cleared and settled in the late 1830s. But the settlers had reckoned without the curse laid upon Shakespearian geography. Like the seacoast of Bohemia centuries before it, in 1851 Avondale was buried under many millions of tonnes of lava and soil, and lost forever to mortals. The families that had settled the region lived mostly on the western side of the Maribyrnong, and perished in the calamity. The eastern banks were orphaned, and the name of Avondale Heights today makes little sense, but it remains in any case, stubbornly defying the dramaturgical maledictions dogging the works of the world’s best known playwright. Suburbs near Avondale Heights:
The first major group – large enough to be called a wagon train – of settlers to tackle the Oregon Trail departed Elm Grove, Missouri, on May 16, 1843. Numbering between 700 and 1000 souls (accounts vary), they would not be the last. It would take another year or so for the trail to really become popular, but for more than twenty years, the trail, and its various offshoots, would be one of the most popular routes to the Californian coast. More than 400,000 people would travel it – most of them after the discovery of gold in California in 1848. That first group took six months to traverse the approximately 2000 miles to the Oregon Territory, but they left behind them a rough yet passable trail that others were quick to follow, and over the next fifty years, enough Americans would go west that the government would eventually declare the frontier closed, so settled had it become. Referenced in: Oregon Trail — C.W. Call
The Bagadong tribe of New Guinea make a drug called gai kau dong (‘The Way Home’) from the fermented leaves of the kwina plant. After encountering the tribe and learning of the drug during World War Two, Dr Bunny Winton brought samples back to America. Later, it was used as the basis of an antidepressent by Winton and her colleague, Dr Will Friedrich, in their researches at Yale University in 1951. There are two Niobes in Greek Myth: one was the daughter of Tantalus, and a prideful mother whose children were slain by Apollo and Artemis. The other, less well-known, was the daughter of Phorenus, and the mother, by Zeus of Argus – for whom the city of Argos was named. It should be noted also, that thus Argus was not any of the other figures in Greek Myth named either Argos or Argus – he was not the shipwright who built the Argo, nor the son of Jason and Medea named for that shipwright. Neither was he a legendarily faithful dog whose master was Odysseus, nor the hundred-eyed giant known as Argus Panoptes. He was just this guy, who happened to be the third king of Argos, and the first child Zeus had by a mortal woman. He would have lots of half-siblings, mostly posthumously. Referenced in: When You Sleep — Cake
Folks, it’s approaching 2 in the morning as I write this, and the extra special post I was hoping to have ready for you tomorrow is still several hours away from complete. And fool that I am, I haven’t yet written the other two posts for today either. So I’m going to bed now, because my head hurts from the tiredness, but I promise you, I will be doing the posts I promised for this Sunday. Just a little late, is all. And I’ll try to be more careful that this doesn’t happen again in future. Because there’s going to be more posts like the one I’ve been working on for about 12 hours now in the future, but I’m going to learn from this and pace myself better working on them. And I can promise you right now, if you’re a fan of my Marvel Universe Timeline – and let’s face it, who isn’t? – you’re going to love this post (and the others of its ilk that follow it). And if you’re not a fan of the timelines, well, you’re going to have a better idea of what I do with my time. Peace out. Bridget looks both ways before she steals out from between the two buildings. When you’re running away from home, the last thing you want is to get caught before you even get across the street. And even ten streets away from the house, Bridget’s still taking care not to be seen. She’s been planning this for weeks now, and she wasn’t going to let all that effort go to waste. Her best friend, Briony, has slowly accumulated a store of Bridget’s clothes, and packed them in a case Bridget bought for that very purpose. Bridget has made discreet enquiries as to her potential for employment on one of the riverboats that throng the docks of Cape Spray, and found answers that she likes. She’s even managed to squirrel away a tiny amount of money, thanks to a boy down at the market who’s sweet on her, and sells her a dozen eggs for the price of ten. Her parents, she’s pretty sure, don’t suspect a thing. At least, if they do, they’ve given no hint of it, and they are not subtle people. There’s nothing subtle about beatings and screaming matches. So long as she has good luck, and doesn’t run into her father on the way to the docks, she’s figures she’s home free. Or better, left home, and free. Of course, the Wry Gods listen for such utterances, and Bridget sees her father at the very next corner. She has enough time to dodge back out of sight, and she’s fairly sure he didn’t see her. She takes a deep breath and tries to get her heart to slow down. But then she hears his whistle. Her father apparently loves to whistle, although he derives no visible pleasure from it and has no perceptible skill at it. Today he’s whistling in that loud, disjointed way that signals that he’s angry about something, and if she were at home when he got there, Bridget knows he’d be hitting her before long. Although if he finds her out here on the street, she’ll cop a beating so epic it will make her regular ones seem almost pleasant by comparison. Panicked, Bridget starts trying doors in the alley, and runs inside the first one that opens. |
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