Strange deposits in the mail room today. First is a letter to inform me that we got out information wrong. In my youth, I always knew older people really didn't know shit, now that I am one of those older people I am getting a better understanding on what it means to know a lot of shit. The more I learn about any subject, the more I learn I don't know and that there is always somebody out there that knows more about shit than I do. What I really know that I know, is that I can never trust a fart anymore, because that just might not be a No Shit!Our first item arrived through the U.S.P.S. today and it is from a reader pointing out that I don't know shit. He is a lot older than me so he should know a lot more about this shit than me . . . What I do know, is that he either needs to change the ribbon or clean out the letters on his typewriter. Below is the letter as he typed it . . .
Gentlemen,
This is my first correspomdence to you . . . except for checks of course.
I take issue with your article on "COLD ENOUGH TO FREEZE THE BALLS OFF A BRASS MONKEY"
Nice story . . . but full of BS in MY humble opinion. I already had a copy of that story word for word some two years ago and I do believe it must have been on the internet and p-l-e-n-t-y of people think that if they saw it there . . . . . . gad . . is MUST be so.
Here are MY reasons that's it's untrue.
First of all, brass was much too expensive and valuable to use it to maintain cannon balls from rolling around. Back then these shipbuilders were MASTERS of woodworking, for example they made "blocks" for lines made of oak. Their wooden carriage supports for the black powder cannons were made of oak. Brass will, I agree, shrink when cold. . . but a teeny amount. No way would it be sufficient to make a difference holding steel cannon balls.
On one of my ship's re-unions (WWII) we visited MANY old ships . . . and the famous one IRONSIDES. I saw NOOO evidence of a brass cannon ball retainer. I have a complete collections of TIME/Life books of ships. I found NOOOO mention of brass monkeys.
There WERE POWDER MONKEYS . . . . . these were often young boys who would carry the black powder from below decks to the main deck during a battle. They certainly didn't want a lot of that fast burning stuff on deck in event the smallest of sparks. Just ask any hunter who knows about FLINTLOCKS.
And, if you are still awake, our ship's group has on occasion visited many Navy museums. Unless I'm in need of a white cane and a leash attached to a big dog. . . . . . . I don't recall seeing what you've describes as a BRASS MONKEY.
I would most assuredly value a response to this communication, with all respects, Sincerely, Richard K. Geyer, Hellertown, PA. A PLANK OWNER OF THE USS PORTSMOUTH ( CL-102) - commissioned June 25, 1945.
* * * * * * * * * * *
This second letter came as a forwarded e-mail that saw sent by the nephew, a junior at UW-LaCrosse, of Mike Beno in Wisconsin, who is a valued counselor to the Porcupine Press Publications staff. We think the Brass Monkey did this shit . . .
Greetings all,
So, I haven't written in a long time, for which I apologize. It certainly hasn't been for lack of opportunity, which I have had, or for lack of material, of which there has been a great deal, including but not limited to: my car getting towed last semester, my car getting frozen shut before winter break, reading Milton's Paradise Lost, and spending an entire day speaking in rhymes. (I'm fairly fond of the last one, it was amusing.)
However, tonight I heard of an event which, quite frankly, compelled me to write you all. You see, it has come to my attention, through several independent and mostly reputable sources (although, one I would say is rather disreputable...) that an old menace has once again reared its ugly head.
What can that threat be, you ask? Could it be Communists? Terrorists? Last weeks Chef's Surprise?
No, I am afraid that the news is of far greater import than that. The news I bear to you this night is no less than the chilling announcement of the fact that THE MAD SHITTER HAS STRUCK AGAIN!
Now, for those of you scratching your head in puzzlement at the present time, allow me to first apologize for possibly scandalizing you with such rough languages, and then to enlighten you (I trust that you will forgive further instances of forth coming saucy language as will necessarily follow this dastardly revelation.).
Once, in the Bronze Age or thereabouts, my uncle, Michael "Unca Corn" "Retawd" Beno (No, not Beano, Beno), was attending college. (I can only assume this was the first college, the most prestigious of universities that invented the wheel, backgammon, and the station wagon.) College dormitories have always been wretched hives of scum and villainy, but this dormitory was different. You see, this dormitory was home to the Mad Shitter, a horrible wraith that stalked the halls of the dormitory in the late night and early morning hours and would, in its most insidious way, inflict horrors upon the residents there. For nights it would slip unnoticed into the bathrooms of the dormitory, and there within the shower stalls leave behind its terrible calling cards for others to find.
As I have said, several independent sources have confided to me that the Mad Shitter has in fact returned, or perhaps, merely migrated here. The wraith grows bolder though, for by their word I have heard that the fiend has left its calling card in this very hall, in the middle of a hallway for all to see.
Lock your doors, seal your shutters, and let not your children wander unattended at night. Fear haunts the halls, a silent menace has returned, beware the Mad Shitter!
Erik Hanson ( hanson.erik@students.uwlax.edu )
So, I haven't written in a long time, for which I apologize. It certainly hasn't been for lack of opportunity, which I have had, or for lack of material, of which there has been a great deal, including but not limited to: my car getting towed last semester, my car getting frozen shut before winter break, reading Milton's Paradise Lost, and spending an entire day speaking in rhymes. (I'm fairly fond of the last one, it was amusing.)
However, tonight I heard of an event which, quite frankly, compelled me to write you all. You see, it has come to my attention, through several independent and mostly reputable sources (although, one I would say is rather disreputable...) that an old menace has once again reared its ugly head.
What can that threat be, you ask? Could it be Communists? Terrorists? Last weeks Chef's Surprise?
No, I am afraid that the news is of far greater import than that. The news I bear to you this night is no less than the chilling announcement of the fact that THE MAD SHITTER HAS STRUCK AGAIN!
Now, for those of you scratching your head in puzzlement at the present time, allow me to first apologize for possibly scandalizing you with such rough languages, and then to enlighten you (I trust that you will forgive further instances of forth coming saucy language as will necessarily follow this dastardly revelation.).
Once, in the Bronze Age or thereabouts, my uncle, Michael "Unca Corn" "Retawd" Beno (No, not Beano, Beno), was attending college. (I can only assume this was the first college, the most prestigious of universities that invented the wheel, backgammon, and the station wagon.) College dormitories have always been wretched hives of scum and villainy, but this dormitory was different. You see, this dormitory was home to the Mad Shitter, a horrible wraith that stalked the halls of the dormitory in the late night and early morning hours and would, in its most insidious way, inflict horrors upon the residents there. For nights it would slip unnoticed into the bathrooms of the dormitory, and there within the shower stalls leave behind its terrible calling cards for others to find.
As I have said, several independent sources have confided to me that the Mad Shitter has in fact returned, or perhaps, merely migrated here. The wraith grows bolder though, for by their word I have heard that the fiend has left its calling card in this very hall, in the middle of a hallway for all to see.
Lock your doors, seal your shutters, and let not your children wander unattended at night. Fear haunts the halls, a silent menace has returned, beware the Mad Shitter!
Erik Hanson ( hanson.erik@students.uwlax.edu )
