Since we’ve gotten new smartphones, we’ve been working on getting up to speed on how to use them. More often they seem to be using us.
In fact, Sena is pretty bummed about how much fiddling around with a smartphone you have to do. She used a little flip phone for years and this is a big upgrade (she would say “downgrade”) for her.
Zuckerberg wants to replace smartphones with Artificial Intelligence (AI) glasses. Sena tells me Bill Gates has been talking about replacing them with electronic tattoos.
That reminds me of a 1997 X-Files episode I don’t remember seeing called “Never Again.” Some guy gets a tattoo on his arm of a girl with the words “Never Again” under it. It starts talking to him and making him do crazy things, like buying mobile phones priced around $1,000, which is about what they cost back in 1997. Smartphones cost about the same these days.
Is that how electronic tattoos would work? Or would they just send mind control messages telling you to buy more of the same stocks in Bill Gates’ portfolio?
There are a plethora of new ads and promotional messages that we’ve never seen before:
Buy new armpit removal tool for half-price!
Upgrade to AI-assisted fruitcake recipe idea generating protocol!
Install planet construction and combustion instructions now!
I’m thinking we’ll Never Again purchase new smartphones.
I saw the 1973 made for TV movie “The Night Strangler” directed by Dan Curtis and starring Darrin McGavin as the investigative reporter Carl Kolchak. I’ve never seen the first Kolchak movie, “The Night Stalker.”
The gist of The Night Strangler plot is that some guy in Seattle is strangling women and getting a little blood from them. People are scared; Kolchak is putting clues together with a lot of help from a local newspaper archivist researcher Titus Berry (Wally Cox) while local police as well as Kolchak’s editor, Tony Vincenzo (Simon Oakland) spend a lot of time yelling at Kolchak—which just provokes him to yell back. Eventually Kolchak irritates everybody so much they all just haul him up to the top of the Space Needle and toss him through a window. He happens to land on top of the first of 6 belly dancers killed by the strangler.
She’s as white as a sheet, dead as a doornail and has decayed flesh around her neck. She’s so anemic as to be white as a fish belly though the coroner finds that only a few drops of blood were drained from her neck.
And that really gets Kolchak started. He’s an extremely annoying reporter who doesn’t take “no” for an answer from anybody, even the owner of the Pink Elephant car wash who refuses to let him run his old jalopy through it for free.
Kolchak always wears the same dingy suit no matter how many times he gets thrown from the Space Needle and ignores everybody who insists he have the suit dry-cleaned.
He takes pictures of cops being thrown around like rag dolls in an alley (not Post Alley where the Gum Wall is) by a bull strong man who apparently can also dodge speeding police cruisers like a running back.
However, the police confiscate Kolchak’s camera and put enough obstacles in his way to make me wonder if they’re in cahoots with the strangler who it turns out is also leading tours of the legendary Seattle underground and would give free tours to the cops who can get free box lunches from an old diner where human skeletons throw fish around just like they do at Pike’s Place Fish Market while letting rats crawl through their eye sockets.
Kolchak gets valuable insights from an old crone named Professor Crabwell (Margaret Hamilton, who also played the wicked witch in the Wizard of Oz) about a youth preserving potion that the strangler might be making—and just when she gets to the good part, a house drops on top of her.
When Kolchak and a brave belly dancer (who is beginning to dislike him as much as everyone else does) get to the underground, he tells her to give him about 30 minutes before she calls the cops to come and rescue him. How does he know he can hold off the strangler for longer than 30 seconds?
The ending is pretty good, mainly because you know you won’t have to listen to Kolchak anymore. I’ll give it a 3 shrilling chicken rating.
Well, we finally got new phones after several years. I think we bought the old ones from Fred Flintstone. I probably should have got a new phone after the battery swelled up in it so big it was starting to split the case. That was over 5 years ago. I have an iPhone 17 Pro now.
Sena’s always had a flip phone. She got one that still folds up, but it’s a lot nicer. It’s a Galaxy Z Flip7.
I think these phones have a feature that allows you to call extraterrestrials to order pizza. Don’t ask for extra cheese.
I remember we got along OK without portable phones at all for years until a big snowstorm made the streets impassable and I decided I had to sleep in my chair in my office at the hospital. We had only one car. I tried to call Sena to warn her not to drive in the snowstorm, but she’d already left to come pick me up. She got stuck on the way but managed to get unstuck and drove back home. I had no way to get a hold of her while she was out on the road.
We both got flip phones after that. I later got an iPhone triple zero, which ran OK most of the time on diesel. One of the residents talked me into buying one. It was a lesson in evolution. I guess we’re still evolving.
Svengoolie Intro: “Calling all stations, clear the air lanes, clear all air lanes for the big broadcast!”
This coming Saturday, the Svengoolie show movie will be the 1973 horror flick, “The Night Strangler” starring Darrin McGavin who plays an investigative reporter/detective named Carl Kolchak, which I’ve never seen. Neither did I see the first movie, “The Night Stalker.”
The setting is in Seattle. Apparently, there’s some monster serial killer who’s really, really mad about getting chewing gum stuck all over him whenever he goes hunting for victims on Post Alley. He’s written dozens of letters to the city about cleaning up the Gum Wall, which they actually do periodically, but hey, sticking chewing gum wads on the wall is a time-honored tradition, which Sena and I noticed when we were visiting Seattle on vacation about 9 years ago. Don’t lean up against the Gum Wall.
Anyway, the killer has come up with a plan to blow up the Gum Wall with dynamite to spite the Seattle city council, which Kolchak can’t figure out without consulting Artificial Intelligence (AI) until late in the movie. AI instructs Kolchak to build a rudimentary time machine which is this really souped-up car which, when it reaches warp speed, can send Kolchak back in time to the scene of the crimes and with the assistance of a kid named McFly, he can…no wait, that’s a different movie.
I watched the Svengoolie show movie “Tarantula” last night, although I fell asleep for what turns out to have been about 20 minutes or so during the second half hour of this 1955 film about radioactive nutrient producing a giant tarantula. I had to catch up on what I missed on the Internet Archive.
Don’t get me wrong, the movie didn’t put me to sleep; in fact, there were various segments that reminded me of various tangents I’m about to go off on.
Anyway, the film was directed by Jack Arnold and starred John Agar (Dr. Mass Hastings), Mara Corday (Stephanie ‘Steve’ Clayton), and Leo G. Carroll (Prof Gerald Deemer, who I guess was in a lot of Hitchcock films including North by Northwest, which Sena has seen). Raymond Bailey (Townsend, Arizona dept of agriculture scientist) had an interesting line I’ll mention later. Bailey also played the banker Milburn Drysdale in the Beverly Hillbillies TV show in the early ‘60s-early ‘70s.
The short summary of this film is that it’s one of several related to the fear of radioactivity-linked science gone bad leading to the creation of really big bugs running amok in tiny towns in the desert southwest. The main angle here is Prof Deemer’s scientific work on preventing world starvation from overpopulation by creating a nutrient that would, if mixed with the evil radioactive isotope, cause hungry tarantulas to grow to enormous size, in turn leading to cattle mutilations that would prevent long wait times for motorists waiting for cows to cross Route 66, consequently unblocking the path to McDonald’s restaurants, although the food chain interruption from the beef shortage caused by tarantula predation would eventually result in the loss of big macs leading to cannibalism, thereby cancelling world hunger by population reduction.
Scientists never think this one through.
But there are other things to talk about with respect to this movie. One of them is the word “acromegalia.” I know about acromegaly, but the term “acromegalia” was a new one to me, although it turns out to be an old term. Acromegaly is the usual name for the medical condition. Why the writers chose this word is a mystery. Both mean a rare pituitary gland problem which produces too much growth hormone leading to gigantism in which the hands, feet, and face grow bigger.
Another fascinating thing about the film is that I think I can hear Dr. Deemer call the radioisotope a specific name, something that sounds sort of like “ammoniac.” In the internet archive version, see if you can hear it at about 27:47.
Sena can hear it too. But I can’t find any reviewers who mention it and even AI denies that the radioisotope is given a name in the movie. Also, if it was made just for the movie, it doesn’t make sense because most isotopes’ names end in “-ium,” so no made-up word for it should sound like “ammoniac” which makes you think of ammonia, something somebody would wave under your nose to smell if you fainted from the sight of the giant tarantula.
Another interesting thing is the dialogue between Dr. Hastings and an Arizona Agricultural Institute scientist, Dr. Townsend (played by Raymond Bailey). The gist of the interaction is that Dr. Hastings brought a specimen of giant tarantula venom for Dr. Townsend to analyze, but when he says he found giant pools of it, Townsend is incredulous and accuses Hastings of either having a nightmare or being the biggest liar since Baron Munchausen. On the internet archive this exchange happens at about 59:07.
This is priceless. I know about Baron Munchausen because, as a consulting psychiatrist for many years I saw patients who had the syndrome which used to be called Munchausen’s Syndrome (now called Factitious Disorder) which is essentially a mental disorder in which patients claim to have diseases which they don’t actually have but fake them and lie to doctors about it. I gave lectures about the syndrome. There’s a fascinating literature about it and, the odd thing is that the real Baron von Munchhausen was a famous adventurer and raconteur—but he was not a liar.
What many people don’t know is that it was actually a fellow named Rudolf Erich Raspe, a German scientist and scholar who wrote a book about the baron which was mostly made up. Raspe was the liar, not Baron Munchhausen.
A person with Factitious Disorder was hospitalized at University of Iowa Health Care back in the 1950s and a long case report about it was published in the Journal of the American Medical Association (JAMA). Further, a physician named William Bennett Bean, MD in the Department of Medicine at the University of Iowa wrote a very long poem about this which you can access. There was also a fascinating case report published in 1980 in the New England Journal of Medicine (NEJM) by medicine residents claiming they had seen a patient who lied about having Factitious Disorder (Factitious Munchausen’s Syndrome). The residents later admitted that they made up the story. I summarized most of this in a blog post a few years ago.
Finally, there is a line by Dr. Hastings at about 1:04:45 which reminded me of a Verizon commercial years ago: “Can you hear me now?”
I think that’s more than enough about this movie, which I would give a rating of 4/5 mainly because it evoked so much from the deep recesses of my memory.
Shrilling Chicken Rating 4/5
Addendum: I couldn’t shake an urge to comment on a gesture of earlobe tugging that Dr. Matt Hastings engaged in while asking Prof Deemer about how quickly Jacobs developed his physical malformations. You can find this on the Internet Archive at time 28:36. Deemer dismisses it as acromegalia and nothing more but finally suggests Hastings could see that an autopsy be performed on Jacobs. I suspect Hasting’s earlobe tug might be dismissed as simple overacting, but there could be other interpretations.
Here’s another video on head stall juggling, this time using glow in the dark juggling balls. They’re heavier and I drop more often. On the other hand, when one hit the glass top coffee table, it didn’t leave a scratch! It did make a heck of a racket, though.
I did switch off between left and right for the off the head trick. It’s a lot harder using larger, hard plastic balls.
Remember that off the head juggle I was trying to learn way back over two years ago? The other name for it is the head stall and I could not get the hang of it. I watched video after video and the performers who could do it all did it the same way—which I could not imitate. You can see the disaster by looking at my post “Off The Head Juggle Trick So Wrong but My Way.”
It never helped that every teacher said it was an easy trick to learn.
That was over two years ago. Every time I tried it since, it was a no go. But yesterday, I found another video of a guy who does the head stall differently. I tried it last night and within minutes I was doing the head stall. This guy has the hack for the head stall juggle.
I’m pretty sure what made the difference for me is throwing one ball high with one hand, but using the other hand to place the ball on my head. Every other video shows the juggler using one hand for the throw the ball and the same hand for placing the ball on the head. At least that’s what it looks like to me. I’ve got a slow-motion clip in the YouTube video I made today showing me doing it and not only that, alternating between left and right.
The idea behind this head stall thing is the same as the one behind learning the under the leg and behind the back tricks in and out of the 3-ball cascade. You throw one ball high to allow you time enough to do the trick ball.
Now I’m doing the head stall boogie using the same method. Sena says I look sexy in the video. I think I look like I’m trying to catch my breath.
I watched the Svengoolie show movie, “The Baddest Seed on the Planet” yesterday on the Internet Archive because I wanted to see the Iowa Hawkeye vs UMass football game last night. Hey, the Iowa Hawkeyes and the Iowa State Cyclones both won yesterday!
Actually, I thought “The Bad Seed” was a pretty good movie, just to let the shrilling chicken out of the bag. It’s a good break from the rubber mask, stop motion animation, shlocky howlers. It does run long, a little over 2 hours and at times there’s a little too much lofty psychoanalytic dialogue. At times it seemed like a play.
It’s a 1956 Warner Bros. Pictures production. There was a Perry Mason regular on it; William Hopper played Col. Kenneth Penmark (father of Rhoda). Henry Jones played Leroy, the really creepy sociopath handyman who had a lot in common with Rhoda (played by Patty McCormack), the psychopathic 8-year-old daughter of Kenneth and Christine Penmark (played by Nancy Penmark). Eileen Heckart played the heck out of her role as the tipsy Hortense Daigle, mother of her unfortunate murdered child Claude—who is never seen.
The main underlying theme is the question of whether psychopaths are born bad or victims of bad environments.
How this gets treated in the film is fascinating. When Rhoda saws through a fawn with a dull straight razor while singing Elvis Presley’s “Don’t Be Cruel,” it really doesn’t leave much to the imagination.
Things start to go bad early when Claude wins a penmanship award instead of Rhoda who is thinking, “OK bud, over your dead body!” I’ve got to tell you; I got chills just looking at her after a while.
The handyman Leroy pegs Rhoda for a bad seed right away, mainly based on the idea that bad seeds think alike. He keeps telling her he’s got her number until he has a close encounter of the excelsior kind, and “excelsior” means ever upward only in the sense that burning wood shavings used for packing fragile items tend to be carried by the wind.
Just to gloss over the scientific psychiatric literature on psychopathy, the most recent paper I could find on the web suggests that structural and functional brain abnormalities of psychopathic persons contribute substantially to the observed behavioral patterns of callousness and poor adaptability to prosocial motivations beginning early in life and which tend to be resistant to change as one gets older. The younger the person, the more plastic the antisocial traits may be to change via behavioral modification, hopefully leading to greater empathy. (Anderson NE, Kiehl KA. Psychopathy: developmental perspectives and their implications for treatment. Restor Neurol Neurosci. 2014;32(1):103-17. doi: 10.3233/RNN-139001. PMID: 23542910; PMCID: PMC4321752.)
By far, Hortense Daigle has the most awkwardly comical role as she combines grief, inebriation and eerie suspicion of Rhoda in her own son’s death. Every time she shows up to the Penmark house, she’s roaring, dramatically staggering drunk. She helps herself to the booze in the house, even making it clear which bourbon she prefers (Never mind my grief! I said I wanted that martini in a dirty glass!).
Other than the movie being a bit too long, I thought it was very good. I could have done without the theater like credits with all the actors coming out to take a bow (or curtsy in Rhoda’s case), a slapstick bit between Christine and Rhoda, and the warning to the audience not to reveal the ending to anyone.
I think I just found out why we have to tune in to the upcoming Svengoolie movie “The Bad Seed” an hour early this Saturday. It comes on at 6:00 p.m. because it’s two hours long!
There’s another crisis. The Iowa Hawkeye vs UMass college football game comes on at 6:40 p.m. tomorrow evening.
That means I’d have to choose between watching “The Bad Seed” or watching the football game. In order to see both I’d have to watch the movie on the Internet Archive.
That means I’d miss Svengoolie’s corny jokes. Hmmmm.
I made this YouTube video of a full six deal game of cribbage solitaire—and missed a 3-card run which would have won the game!
What the heck, I probably made other mistakes too that others will notice.
The rules:
Cribbage solitaire has six hands and six cribs and you peg your six hands.
Start by dealing two cards down to form part of your hand, then one down to form part of the crib. Deal two more to your hand, one more to the crib, and finally two more to your hand (which now has six cards and the crib has two.
Discard two of the six cards to form a four-card crib. Then flip the top card of the deck for the starter card.
Then peg your hand for maximum count, which would not always be the way you’d peg in a game with an opponent. Colbert’s example paraphrased: if you hold 5-10-10-jack. Play the 5 first, then a 10 for “15-2,” then the other 10 for “25, a pair for two and a go.” The remaining jack also scores a “go” for one point. Your peg is six points total.
After scoring the peg, count your hand, then your crib.
Then start the second deal by using the first-hand starter card, which becomes one of the first six cards for your hand. Again, deal the crib two cards. Repeat this process until you complete the game with the sixth deal (the deck will have four cards after six deals). (Colvert, 2015)
Reference
Colvert, D. (2015). Play Winning Cribbage 5th ed. Missoula, Montana: Starr Studios.
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