Wednesday, September 25, 2013


I did this photo story as a kind of card for my kid's birthday. It occurred to me that  Theory Corner readers might be interested to see it.

The pictures chronicle my kid's imaginary grand entry to her birthday party. It's patterned after Cleopatra's famous entrance into Rome.

Of course the Emperor officiates.

It starts with a fanfare.

The Emperor's mascot makes an appearance, symbolising the real presence of royalty.

Girls rush in with lowered banners.

They raise the banners and an exotic dancer comes out. She doesn't stay long, though...she's just a teaser.

  Chariots race out in a zig zag path to clear the area of stragglers.

Bowman run out from every direction and shoot what appear to be arrows into the sky. The crowd gasps.

But no, they're harmless red streamers.

Tahitian vaheenies run out, do a killer dance to a Polynesian drumbeat, then they scatter. 

They're replaced by dancing Ashanti warriors who also dance and scatter, taking care to set off red smoke bombs as they leave.

Out of the red smoke emerges the sultan's elephants. They perform quick elephant acrobatics then disappear into the crowd, leaving behind them yellow smoke.

From out of the yellow smoke emerges a beer wagon pulled by Clydesdale's. The crowd cheers the appearance of beer.

Equestrians trot into sc., put their beautiful horses through their paces. 

Next, a show of one-of-a-kind autos drive through, honking one-of-a-kind horns.

I'll be present in my car. That's it above.

More elephants.

Next comes a Scottish bagpipe band playing military music.

Tanks roll through, followed by marching soldiers.

I don't know why these women soldiers are wearing miniskirts.

 If a dragon can be had this would be the time to bring him out.

 Another fanfare.

Trees with perfumed, golden leaves are marched out. Pigeons are released and take to the air.

Waves of mounted soldiers clear the streets...

...revealing a giant sphinx on wheels.

The sphinx is slowly, inexorably pulled in by hundreds of swaying laborers.

Don't feel sorry for them...they're getting paid well!

On a throne near the top sits my kid.

It's a pricey way to celebrate a birthday, but I figure...what the's only once a year.

There she is, looking very regal.

Finding a Sphinx to rent wasn't easy.

The statue comes to a halt
 in front of the emperor.

Nubians lift my daughter's throne.

A carpet is laid down. 

And my daughter....descends. She'll pay her respects to the emperor then inside she'll join her friends for a night of dancing. 

Friday, September 20, 2013


Holy Cow! Lalalizabeth has reposted her Naked Vlog which makes it possible for me to repost mine. I loved this post when I put it up a while back and was heartbroken when Lalalizabeth took her part down. I had to follow suit...the two videos only make sense when posted together.

Anyway here's the full blown original in all its naked glory!


To get the effect you have to WATCH BOTH VIDEOS SIMULTANEOUSLY, AT THE SAME TIME. Arrange the framing so both are visible, one almost on top of the other. 

Turn on the bottom (B&W) video first, let it run for four seconds, then turn on the top (color) video. Voila! 

Thanks to Lalalizabeth, whose videos can be viewed on YouTube.

Wednesday, September 18, 2013


I'm reading a couple of books now. One is an anthology of Sherlock Holmes stories which includes this little gem by Nick Pollatta, called "The Really Final Solution." It only takes a couple of minutes to read. See what you think. 

Sunday, September 15, 2013


I'm not much of a dancer myself but I regret not learning how. It looks like fun and in the movies everything connected with dancing looks interesting.

I like the clothes people wear to a dance (above). I like the "What's-your-sign?" type dialogue you're supposed to use to chat up a dancing partner. I like the bass-thumping speakers, and the tough guy way of smoking cigarettes and flicking the butts while taking a break outside.

The custom of dressing weird for a dance goes way back. Something about moving to rhythm makes you want to do that.

Even when imitating an animal, as in this Turkey Trot (above), you have to dress up to do it. Dancing in ordinary street clothes is out of the question.

Everywhere in the world (above) dancing is something you dress up for. Nobody would be so uncouth as to gyrate in their street clothes.

Even if you want to watch an Apache dancer beat up his girlfriend, you have to dress up for it. 

I wish I had a tux so I could cakewalk.

I'm told the cakewalk originated with blacks making fun of the way upper crust white people used to strut.