The Jimston Journal | Contents | Fiction | Articles | Poetry

Every writer/publisher from Gutenberg to Poor Richard to the Daily Oklahoman (once tagged by the Columbia Journalism Review as America’s worst newspaper) has probably filled space with yawn-provoking “On This Day in History” columns.  Like the patent official who wanted to shut his office down because everything had been invented, I’m convinced we could do away with this boring nonsense and synopsize history’s great moments onto a single 31-day calendar to serve the year-round.  Trivia games will be easier and, if you need something to celebrate on the 17th of any month, you can pay homage to…well, the rubber band or the Waring Blender.

 

Just think--with only 31 days instead of 365 to commit to memory, how can you go wrong?  You'll be the hit at cocktail parties.  Never again will you be at a loss for something to add at that business meeting.  Don't know what to say in that job interview?  It'll be a snap!

 

Mark these down once.  It will only hurt the first time.

 

Editors Note:  You can follow more of Dean Perchik's ideas online at his highly entertaining and thought provoking "Symzonia."  Perchik also publishes a print edition of the Symzonia Review.

The Lazy Man's Guide to History
 
by Dean Perchik

 

On the 1st in 1912, Albert Berry made the first parachute jump from a moving airplane.  I wonder why this entry appears, in several sources, as it does.  At the beginning of the 20th century, were there hordes of people making parachute jumps from stationary airplanes?  That strikes me as being just a bit silly, but hey, who am I to judge?

 

 

 
 

The 2nd in 1791, witnessed a quantum leap forward in long-distance communication when the semaphore machine was unveiled in Paris, marking the last time anything of use (other than camembert cheese that is) came out of France.

 

 

 

Aside from being the last American member of the Whig party to serve in public office and the first Vice-President to rise to the Presidency upon the death of the incumbent, President John Tyler was also the first president to have his veto overridden by both houses of Congress.  Tyler had vetoed a bill relating to revenue cutters and steamers on February 20th in 1845 and both the Senate and the House, in an uncharacteristic burst of energy, wasted no time in voting to override this veto on the 3rd.

 

The 4th, in 1902 saw the founding, in Chicago, Illinois, of the AAA.  I was quite surprised to discover that this is not a group for alcoholics who stutter but rather the American Automobile Association.  There are currently underway, talks between AA and AAA to form a working partnership, because even alcoholics recognize that drinking and driving are probably not a particularly good mix.

 

 

Alferd Packer died on April 23, 1907 after having served roughly 40 years as punishment for cannibalism. His death however, in no way posed an obstacle to the esteemed Mr. Packer being pardoned on the 5th in 1981 in spite of his death 74 years prior.  It is unfortunately an urban legend that the Department of Agriculture’s cafeteria in Washington, D.C, was for a time named the Alferd Packer Cafeteria.  However, for a short period in 1968, students at the University of Colorado successfully renamed their cafeteria the ‘Alferd G. Packer Memorial Cafeteria’ whose slogan was ‘Have a friend for lunch’.  I have been unable to discover any evidence, either in school or court records, or for that matter any newspapers, that would indicate that controlled substances were involved in the naming of University of Colorado’s cafeteria; though considering the year I think you would be on safe ground to assume that such was the case.

 

Following his arrest, indictment and trial Charles Manson, a failed rock and roll performer, incurred enormous bills for representation of his interests in court.  On the 6th in 1970, in an effort to raise the funds he needed to pay his attorneys, Manson released the album Lie.  Among the tracks on the album are songs with rather ironic titles, such as Ego, People Say I’m No Good, Sick City, and the epic Don’t Do Anything Illegal.

 
 

Much to my surprise, the question ‘Who invented the telephone?’ remains unanswered almost 150 years after the telephones introduction.  Not only is it an unanswered question, but there are actually quite a few candidates for its inventor, not merely one or two people, but five contenders.  It’s sort of like the lively debate concerning who was the walrus in Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.  There are advocates for Antonio Meucci, Johann Philip Reis, Alexander Graham Bell, Elisha Gray, and Thomas Edison.  However, Bell was granted patent #174,465 for the telephone on the 7th in 1876. 

On the 8th in 1618 legendary big shot thinker Johannes Kepler published his third law of planetary motion: "The squares of the orbital periods of planets are directly proportional to the cubes of the semi-major axis of the orbits".  I have absolutely no idea what that means nor do I have a clue about his other two laws on the subject.  I think Kepler was very lucky to have his elves to fall back on, because at least his cookies are very good.  Oh heck, that was the Keebler elves, not the Kepler elves.  I guess Kepler was just another hack that I don’t understand, and without the cookies have absolutely no reason to understand.

In the 1980s, the dreaded Reagan Years, somebody in the Congress directed the United States Department of Agriculture to produce new guidelines for nutrition that would enable public schools to economize and still meet the guidelines necessary to receive federal funding for school lunch programs.  On the 9th in 1981, in a move that can only be described as sheer brilliance, the USDA managed to juggle proper nutrition and economics by declaring that ketchup was a vegetable.

March was not a very good month for Thomas Edison.  As we saw, on the 7th the patent for the telephone was given to Bell.  That would be enough to ruin the month for most people.  On the 10th in 1902, a United States Court of Appeals ruled that Edison did not invent the movie camera.  Some months you just can’t catch a break.

 

 

 

Edward Mallet rented rooms over the White Hart pub, on Fleet Street in London, England.  From these rooms he wrote and published a newspaper called The Daily Courant.  Publication of the paper began on the 11th in 1702.  Its appearance made the paper the first regular daily newspaper in the United Kingdom.  Mallet’s offering would continue until 1735 when it merged with the Daily Gazetteer.  Today, anyone with half a mind to do so can publish pretty much whatever he or she wants to.  It should be noted however, that the ‘half a mind’ part is not a requirement, as will be evident from most of the stuff that is printed and sees the light of day.

Mahatma Gandhi, the father Indian independence set out from the Sabarmati Ashram on the 12th in 1930 with 78 followers and began a march to the sea to protest the British Empires imposition of a tax on salt and a prohibition of its manufacture.  The march took 23 days and when he finally arrived at the seashore; his group had grown into the thousands.  Once at the waters edge, Gandhi picked up a small bit of mud and salt and proclaimed, "With this, I am shaking the foundations of the British Empire."  Then he and his followers began to make salt.  I hope everyone is aware of what happened after that.

On the 13th in 1930, Clyde Tombaugh, or someone acting on his behalf, sent a telegram to the Harvard College Observatory, announcing the discovery of the ninth planet in our Sun’s solar system.  This new planet would be named Pluto.  Tombaugh and Pluto had a very good run but, in August 2006, the International Astronomical Union, after heated debate, declared that while Pluto was a planet, it was only a dwarf planet, largely because Pluto ‘hadn’t cleaned its neighborhood.’  This should remind everyone to clean his or her room occasionally or you just might be declared a ‘dwarf human’.  However, the upside of that would be that you would then be eligible for a handicapped parking sticker.

Some days are just busier than others are.  The 14th is one such day.  For instance, on the 14th in 1489, Catherine Cornaro, Queen of Cyprus, woke up one morning and found herself a bit short of cash.  To remedy this singularly unpleasant turn of events, she sold her kingdom to Venice.  The reaction of her subjects has been lost to time.  Also on the 14th, in 1757, on-board the HMS Monarch, Admiral John Byng was executed by a firing squad for neglect of duty.  Who would have imagined that the British were such sticklers for details of that sort? The 14th in 1883 saw the death of Karl Marx.  Contrary to popular belief, he was not the fifth Marx Brother, but a social theorist whose work has been largely misunderstood by university undergraduates and tenured professors everywhere.  This date in 1984 was not a particularly good one for Gerry Adams, head of Sinn Fein.  He was the target of, and seriously wounded in, a rather amateurish assassination attempt in Belfast, Northern Ireland.  Overall, the 14th is more or less a wasteland brightened only in the latter part of the twentieth century by the birth of Marieke Elizabeth Perchik in 1990. 

On the 15th in 1672, King Charles II of England issued the Royal Declaration of Indulgence.  I was surprised to discover that this had absolutely nothing to do with lavish dinner parties or extravagant lapses in to unbridled hedonism, which is what I had been hoping it was.  Charles II, long suspected of being a highly closeted Catholic, gave it his best shot when he tried to give a little bit of a break to the recusants in his realm.  Those bad humored cretins in Parliament would have none of it however and Charles was compelled to withdraw his declaration and replace it with the first of the Test Acts, which required anyone entering public service in England to become an Anglican, which is, of course, nothing more than Catholic Lite.  Oh well.  At least Charles fared better than his successor, James II, who was an openly Catholic monarch.  When James attempted to issue a similar declaration, irate Anglicans, a polite group, though nasty in the extreme when angered, ousted him from the throne.

The history of the peopling of the Americas is rife with stories of Europeans first contact with the Native Americans.  One in particular concerns Samoset, a Mohegan, who on the 16th in 1621 greeted the settlers of the Plymouth Colony by allegedly saying ‘Welcome Englishmen, my name is Samoset.’  I am not certain but I think he was more likely to have said ‘Hey you kids get out of the yard.’

 

 

 

 

Little is known about Dr. Jaroslav Kurash, a man who earned a reputation for possessing a truly resilient character.  This was due, no doubt, to the fact that on the 17th in 1845 he invented the humble rubber band.  One of the true crimes of history is that his invention is not referred to as a Kurash Band, in the same manner that Fredrick Waring’s invention, a boon to all purveyors of mixed beverages, is called a Waring Blender.

 

 

The 18th in 1962, France and Algeria signed a peace treaty ending the Algerian War.  It could not have been much of a war; I had never heard of it prior to learning when it ended, had you?  My guess is that the French just threw up their collective hands and surrendered; an action for which they are quite well known.

 

 

 

 

 

On the 19th in 1918 for some inexplicable reason, the United States Congress established time zones across the nation and the unceasingly annoying Daylight Savings Time system.  I for one cannot get used to all the Spring Ahead and Fall Back rigmarole.  Additionally, if Congress thought it a good idea, that fact alone, puts a taint on it.  Moreover, if they are saving time, what are they planning on doing with it?  This does not bode well at all.  Consider yourself duly warned.

I have absolutely no idea what Crowley intended by doing this.  I also fail to understand much of what Crowley wrote.  This is, to a certain degree understandable, as insane heroin addicts are more often than not, difficult to understand.  I do however think that the Aeon of the Crowned and Conquering Child has a very nice ring to it and would make a wonderful t-shirt.
 
 
 

Pius VII, born Giorgio Barnaby Luigi Chiaramonti, was crowned pope on the 21st in 1800.  Rome has long been the site of armed conflicts and in 1800, fighting drove the Roman Catholic leadership out of Rome, forcing them to take refuge in Venice.  The Vatican leadership has never been particularly fond of allowing inconvenient things like forced exile to cramp their style.  However, finding themselves in Venice and not having ready access to the accoutrements of the papacy, the Vatican did its best under some very trying circumstances. Pius’s elevation to the papacy was accomplished making use of a papal tiara made of papier-mâché.  A bit tacky perhaps, but considering that the Italians of this period originated the practice of covering perfectly serviceable furniture and carpets with sheets of clear plastic, I doubt if anyone in attendance even noticed.

Massasoit, chief of the Wampanoags, signed a treaty with the Pilgrims of the Plymouth Colony on the 22nd in 1621.  The Pilgrims honored this treaty in the same manner that future treaties between the first Americans and European interlopers were honored.  This is to say that was not honored by the Europeans at all.  I can only imagine how differently the history of the Western hemisphere would be if the Wampanoags had a Patriot Act and operated with the same sense of dogged determination that our Office of Homeland Security does.

Which came first, the elevator or the elevator shaft?  While this may seem a bit like the old chicken or the egg question, it isn’t.  The elevator shaft came first.  In 1852, Peter Cooper began construction of The Cooper Union for the Advancement of Science and Art bear Astor Place and Third Avenue in New York City.  Included in Cooper’s design for the building was an elevator shaft.  When Cooper began building his Union building a working elevator had yet to be invented but he was absolutely convinced that a safe elevator would be invented eventually.  His confidence was not misplaced because on the 23rd of March, in 1853, at 488 Broadway, also in Manhattan, Elisha Otis installed the first elevator designed to not suddenly plummet to the basement if its cable should snap.  I am puzzled as to why Otis called his innovation a safety elevator.

On the 24th in 1878, an incredibly ironic event occurred.  The frigate HMS Eurydice sank killing all 300 onboard, thereby illustrating the extreme care that one should take when naming a vessel.  The crew of the Eurydice made out about as well as Orpheus did when he tried to rescue his wife Eurydice from Hades and ignored Pluto’s command that he not look back.  The past is indeed prologue.  Therefore, should you have a son, do not name him either Richard Speck or Richard Macek.

Allen Ginsberg, alleged poet, wrote a book titled Howl. This book established him as an important literary figure.  On the 25th in 1955, United States Customs officials seized the book.  The nominal justification for the seizure was that the book was obscene.  Though Ginsberg was ultimately cleared of the obscenity charges, I firmly believe that had the Customs service taken a little time and had simply read the darn thing, Ginsberg could have been arrested on a felony charge of truly dreadful writing.

The Oxford English Dictionary is considered by many to be the most comprehensive and scholarly dictionary of the English language.  As of 2005, it contained in excess of 300,000 main entries.  William Chester Minor, an American surgeon, was one of the more prolific contributors to the OED in the late 19th century.  The vast majority of his contributions were made while he was a resident of London’s Horsemonger Gaol, a mental institution to which Minor was committed from 1872 until his death on March 26, 1920.

Carl Barks was born on the 27th in 1901.  He was with Walt Disney Studios as an illustrator and comic book creator.  He was the creator of Scrooge McDuck.  Have you seen The Raiders of the Lost Ark?  If so, you must remember the rolling boulder booby trap scene.  If you don’t remember it, rent the movie because it is a very good scene. Both Steven Spielberg and George Lucas have acknowledged that they got the idea for that particular scene from Carl Barks’ 1954 cartoon featuring Uncle Scrooge McDuck in The Seven Cities of Cibola.

 

 

Henri Fabre was born on November of 1882. On the 28th in 1910, at the controls of Le Cunard, an airplane of his own design, he lifted off from the surface of Etang de Berre, a small inland sea in France and became the pilot of the first seaplane in history.

 

 

 

 

 

In Connecticut, on the 29th in 1882, the fraternal order the Knights of Columbus filed its incorporation papers in Connecticut.  The Knights went on to achieve great success and today they provide the satellite uplink for the Pope.  I wonder whom the Pope Googles.

 

 

 

 

Joseph M. Venable had a rather unsightly tumor on his neck that he wanted to have removed (The tumor, not the neck). Not being a surgeon himself, much less a doctor, Venable contacted Dr. William C.W. Morton, who was both a doctor and a surgeon.  Morton, being an accommodating doctor, agreed to comply with Venable’s wishes and did remove the offending tumor making use of a really, really neat new trick: anesthesia, making him the first surgeon to make use of anesthesia during a surgery, and not just at parties.  The surgery took place on the 30th in 1842.

Bstan-'dzin Rgya-mtsho, perhaps better known as Tenzin Gyatso, the 14th Dalai Lama, on the 31st in 1959, crossed the border between Tibet and India where he  sought and received political asylum from the Indian government.  Once safely in ensconced in his new home, Gyatso established the Tibetan government in exile, thus ending a journey which began when he was 3 years old at which time the 13th Dalai Lama declared little Tenzin his tulku (reincarnation). Considering the Dalai Lama’s age ( he was born July 6, 1935) when I find out the schedule of interviews  for the position of 15th Dalai Lama and where they are being held I will be certain to let you know. While the job description includes having to shave one’s head and the wearing of robes of a color that clashes with my apartment’s color scheme, then again most colors pose that problem for me.  I would however, be willing to take a fashion risk to get this position. The benefits that go with the job are extremely attractive, making the position one to definitely take a shot at. There is no mandatory retirement age that I am aware of and I am reasonably certain that there is no Tibetan equivalent of ‘Do you want fries with that?’

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
..