Dr. Phibes Loves Brussels Sprouts

I watched the 1971 movie “The Abominable Dr. Phibes” last night on the Svengoolie show last night and I just have a few remarks. It starred Vincent Price as the ghoulish Dr. Phibes who was really cranky about doctors who he accused of botching the medical treatment of his wife who died in the hospital.

Supposedly, Dr. Phibes was killed in a fiery car crash on his way to the hospital to see her. Of course, he survived to take revenge on the doctors by killing them in a pattern that mimicked the deadly biblical plagues, which most people remember from another movie, “The 10 Commandments.”

I’ve never seen “The Abominable Dr. Phibes” and like most of the movies on Svengoolie, it was fodder for corny jokes, of which Svengoolie always has a big supply.

There was even a psychiatrist victim. The way Dr. Phibes knocked him off was to somehow get him invited to a costume party where he gives him a special whole head mask of a frog. It has a diabolical mechanism which slowly tightens around the psychiatrist’s neck, finally cutting his throat.

I guess you could say the psychiatrist croaked (see what I did there?).

OK, so frogs are consistent with one of the plagues foretold by Moses and is loosely based on the biblical scripture of Exodus.

On the other hand, there were several other murders of doctors which made you scratch your head about the biblical plague plot.

Dr. Phibes impaled one doctor by shooting a large brass statue of a unicorn at him from a block away. One of the humorous (dark humor, of course) parts of the movie were the inept police who were supposed to be protecting the doctors from Dr. Phibes. They tried to figure out how to unscrew the horn of the brass unicorn from the victim (clockwise or counterclockwise?). Although I’m anything but a biblical scholar, as I recall, there was no plague of brass unicorn statues impaling the Israelites.

One of the more bizarre plagues was juiced brussels sprouts followed by locusts which apparently think it’s a tasty sauce that leads to them chewing the face off a nurse.

Speaking of going faceless, toward the end of the film, Dr. Phibes reveals he has no face. This either means that his face was burned away in the car accident or that one of his favorite foods was brussels sprouts garnished with locusts.

It looks like you can watch The Abominable Dr. Phibes on the Internet Archive, which apparently survived being hacked a month ago.

Dirty Deepfakes

I saw an article about the unreliable ability of humans to detect digital deepfakes in audio and video productions (Mai KT, Bray S, Davies T, Griffin LD. Warning: Humans cannot reliably detect speech deepfakes. PLoS One. 2023 Aug 2;18(8):e0285333. doi: 10.1371/journal.pone.0285333. PMID: 37531336; PMCID: PMC10395974.).

I was a little surprised. I thought I was pretty good at detecting the weird cadence of Artificial Intelligence (AI) speech patterns, which I think I can distinguish pretty well. Maybe not.

And there are some experts who are concerned about AI’s ability to mimic written and spoken grammar—but it continues to make stuff up (called “hallucinations”). In fact, some research shows that AI can display great language skills but can’t form a true model of the world.

And the publisher of the book (“Psychosomatic Medicine: An Introduction to Consultation-Liaison Psychiatry”) that I and my co-editor, Dr. Robert G. Robinson, MD wrote 14 years ago is still sending me requests to sign a contract addendum that would allow the text to be used by AI organizations. I think I’m the only who gets the messages because they’re always sent to me and Bob—as though Bob lives with me or something.

Sometimes my publisher’s messages sound like they’re written by AI. Maybe I’m just paranoid.

Anyway, this reminds me of a blog post I wrote in 2011, “Going from Plan to Dirt,” which I re-posted last year under the title “Another Blast from the Past.” Currently, this post is slightly different although it still applies. I don’t think AI can distinguish plan from dirt and sometimes makes up dirt, simply put.

And if humans can’t distinguish the productions by AI from those of humans, where does that leave us?

Humble Pie for Me Today

I had to eat humble pie today. I did not take Sena seriously about the amount of water she said was shooting out of the sump pump discharge pipe on the side of the house. She said it was making a hole in the yard. We’ve gotten a fair amount of rain lately. I was pretty skeptical about the plastic hose kit she got to attach to the pipe.

I was skeptical until I got a blast of water from the pipe as I was preparing to attach the hose. We’ll have to replace the hose eventually with a more permanent solution.

But she was right.

Amaryllis Star of Holland On the Comeback Trail!

Today, Sena got another Amaryllis Star of Holland bulb. We got one a couple of years ago and it grew like you wouldn’t believe.

The last time we got one, the stalk grew to about 18 inches and sported spectacular blossoms. The stem tended to bend this way and that for some reason.

I wrote the fractured story from Greek mythology about the Amaryllis in 2022, which I’m pretty sure you’ve forgotten by now. I’ll just remind you:

“A little story from Greek mythology says that a maiden named Amaryllis had a monster crush on a shepherd named Alteo, a first-class heel who ignored her but loved flowers. She tried stabbing herself in the heart every day with a golden arrow for thirty days but at first that only led to a lot of trips to the local emergency room. But on the thirtieth day, a gorgeous flower grew from her blood. That’s the only thing that got Alteo’s attention; can you believe that jerk? They got married and honey-mooned at Niagara where they both got smashed on fermented winterberries, jumped out of the Maid of the Mist boat, crashed into a rainbow which turned out to be a wormhole portal to another galaxy where they finally sobered up by eating beef jerky from Sasquatch, who is an interdimensional creature as everyone knows.”

You can check my sources for accuracy of the yarn-if I were willing to give them to you, which I’m not.

We’re eager to see how things go this year with the new Amaryllis.

Little Autumn Promenade

Yesterday, we took a stroll on the Terry Trueblood trail. It was a little breezy and warm for late October.

The fall colors were gorgeous and there was a lot going on. We saw a woman with her toddler flying a butterfly kite. It sailed on the wind beautifully. We saw the quilted hearts hanging from the trees. They’re very cheering. In the wind they looked like they were waving at you.

The woolly bear banded caterpillars were out. I don’t think you can really tell how hard the winter is going to be by looking at the color bands. But it’s fun to talk about.

And then we thought we saw ladybugs. But they could have been Asian lady beetles. It’s hard to tell them apart. The latter often don’t have spots at all. We noticed that they seem to sort of push up their hinders until they’re almost upside down and they may shove each other around.

There’s a pretty vigorous debate on the web about whether the Asian lady beetles are the bad guys and the ladybugs are the good guys. We know they can crawl all over you.

The oddball thing was that we found a baby booty hanging on one of the sign posts. It had an image of a ladybug on it. Or was it an Asian lady beetle?

When you’re in the autumn of your life, it might be time to stop asking too many questions.

Thoughts on the Big Mo Pod Show 034: Laughing in the Face of Death

I heard the Big Mo Blues Show just (Halloween theme) this last Friday night and was not surprised to see that one of the songs discussed on the Big Mo Pod Show on Saturday was Peetie Wheatstraw’s “Devil’s Son-in-Law.”

When I first heard it, it got me chuckling because I didn’t understand hardly a single word until the last line. It was babbling. I can remember googling the term “Peetie Wheatstraw and unintelligible,” which revealed I’m not the only one who thinks he’s unintelligible. It’s a mondegreen mine field. It’s a good thing the lyrics are available.

I want to hastily point out that he’s not always unintelligible—but William Bunch aka Peetie Wheatstraw is speaking in tongues on that song. For comparison I listened to another song, “Sweet Home Blues” and I could understand just about every word in the lyrics.

That led me down the rabbit hole about the artist in a web search that seemed to have no end. I should probably say Brer Rabbit hole since most of my searches pointed in the direction of a character called Peter Wheatstraw, Petey Wheatstraw, as well as Peetie Wheatstraw who had variations in their identities, most often in the context of African American folklore.

I’m not going to attempt a summary of my web search on Peetie Wheatstraw; there’s too many twists and turns. You can start with the Wikipedia article. But from there, you can get trapped in Brer Rabbit’s little tunnels, which can run in different directions.

William Bunch was a blues artist in the 1930s who adopted the moniker “Peetie Wheatstraw.” While Big Mo says it’s sort of another name for Satan, I found confusing references by writers who claim that the Peter Wheatstraw character comes from Black folklore. There are those who believe that novelist Ralph Ellison wrote about a character in his book “Invisible Man” named Peter Wheatstraw and said it was the only character in the novel that was based on a live person—William Bunch.

Is that true? And did Ellison ever meet Peetie Wheatstraw (William Bunch)? I can’t tell from the web articles.

I was prompted to get my copy of “Invisible Man” out after reading a scholarly online essay mentioning the Peter Wheatstraw character, “Re-visioning Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man for a Class of Urban Immigrant Youth” by Camille Goodison, CUNY New York City College of Technology. I couldn’t remember Wheatstraw at first, but there he was in Chapter 9.

Goodison reveals there is a lot more texture to the Wheatstraw character then just as a moniker adopted by William Bunch. Wheatstraw is probably more complex than the devil. He has many sides to him and could be helpful—but mostly in an indirect way. His guidance is full of riddles and there doesn’t seem to be a solid way to cut through the metaphorical morass. As Emily Dickinson advised, Wheatstraw may tell the truth—but tells it slant.

I still don’t know why he mumbles the song.

How Does Sponge Bob Get Involved with Wendy’s Pineapple Frosty?

So, today we tried the new Wendy’s Pineapple Mango Frosty. Right off the top, I’ll tell you I couldn’t taste the pineapple mango flavor. It’s an OK vanilla. There are no bits of pineapple, mango, or Sponge Bob SquarePants in it.

That’s right, I said Sponge Bob SquarePants as in the cartoon guy who lives in a pineapple-shaped house—I guess.

I’ve never watched Sponge Bob and I don’t know anything about his pineapple house under the sea. I can tell you that the brown swirl in the bottom of the cup of the Frosty doesn’t taste like pineapple or mango. It’s vanilla with a brown swirl.

That doesn’t mean it’s bad. It just means I like vanilla. It’s how I feel about other ice cream flavors. If Sena doesn’t get vanilla for me, she gets Kemp’s Caribou Coffee flavored vanilla. Occasionally, I go crazy and eat French Vanilla.

There’s a meal you can get that follows the same Sponge Bob theme. It’s the Krabby Patty Kollab Burger, which comes with fries and a Pineapple Mango Frosty. I think the sandwich is a cheeseburger with Kollab, a top-secret sauce—likely thousand island. We skipped that. I’m still not sure why it’s called Kollab sauce, but the main ingredients are mayo and ketchup. If anybody knows what Kollab means, shout it out. All I can find is that it’s a store which makes picnic paraphernalia, like mats and maybe ants.

If Wendy’s ever makes a Kollab Frosty, look closely at it for anything that looks like little ants.

I like the Vanilla Frosty. I’m OK with Wendy’s Chocolate Frosty. But I’m going to hang on for the upcoming Salted Caramel Frosty in November.

CDC Meeting Results in Recommending a 2nd Covid-19 Vaccine Dose for Those 65yr and Older and for the Immunocompromised

I missed the October CDC meeting which resulted in a decision to recommend a 2nd dose of the Covid-19 vaccine for those 65 years and older and for the immunocompromised.

The Evidence to Recommendations (EtR) slides by Roper indicated Covid-19 circulates year round, peaking in late summer and winter.

The recommendation that those in the above-named populations should get 2 doses of Covid-19 vaccine spaced 6 months apart seems based on reasonable considerations.

It looks like the vaccine would be the same as the one previously recommended for this year.

Unsticking the Sticking Drawer

We had a sticking kitchen cabinet drawer. The past tense gives away the ending of the story. But the path to it is what’s interesting

The drawer is one of those slow close affairs, which are slick when they work just right. This one drawer would not close with a simple push. It got stuck about halfway and then we had to give it another shove. Then it glided the rest of the way. There’s another drawer just underneath it that glides shut just fine.

I finally took the sticky drawer off the gliders and had a look at the underside. I don’t do things like that every day, of course. I avoid them whenever I can. I looked at a YouTube about it and there are orange clips under the drawer that the gliders connect with. You press the clips in on both sides and the drawer just lifts out. I’ve seen this kind of drawer before in a different house, even down to the orange clips.

That tells you this is not exactly my first rodeo with sticky drawers. This time it’s a different brand; it’s made by Blum.

Anyway, I thought I might have had the problem licked when I saw the splinter of wood jutting out from one of the sides. It turns out this was a symptom, not the disease. Removing the splinter didn’t remove the stickiness.

The gliders seemed OK. I thought it was the drawer itself (warped?). Maybe it was one or more of the fine-tune adjustments you could make with the slow close mechanism. I hoped not because I didn’t want to get caught up in an endless loop of move-it-one-way-a-little-and-then-move-it-back. I figured that could take half a day and end with more frustration than what I started with.

Then Sena came along and after she woke up from fainting after seeing I had actually tried to do something about the issue—she suggested I switch the top drawer with the bottom one.

That worked. Don’t ask me why. The sticky drawer is still a little sticky, but it closes a lot more smoothly. No more double shove.

So, if you get caught in a sticky drawer problem try swapping drawers—as long as they’re the same size.