The Era -- Day By Day

[Harp]

^ Mr Purdy hasn't any plausible court trial defense; so, his counsel should approach
the District Attorney Office and offer a reasonable cop to factual occurrence in exchange
for a life sentence. Prosecution might wave away any such move for terms, but would
likely accept this offer. The client's life weighed in balance scale mitigates any illusionary hope
for trial judge or jury acquital.

 

[Fading Fast]

^ Mr Purdy hasn't any plausible court trial defense; so, his counsel should approach
the District Attorney Office and offer a reasonable cop to factual occurrence in exchange
for a life sentence. Prosecution might wave away any such move for terms, but would
likely accept this offer. The client's life weighed in balance scale mitigates any illusionary hope
for trial judge or jury acquital.

Thank you.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Heh," snickers Alice. "Izzy t' Eel. Wheht't'ey gettat stuff? Izzy t' Eel!" Sally doesn't respond, gazing morosely out the window at the flickering landscape. "Sal..." ventures Alice. "Wait'll nex' election," growls Sally. "Wait'll 1948....")

("What's keeping Rudy with the camera?" mutters Sergeant Brosnan. "Be nice if there was something in there besides dirty laundry," observes Sergeant McManus, nodding toward the mysterious battered grip on the table, just as a lanky man enters, carrying a Speed Graphic. "Awright you guys," huffs Rudy, inserting a bulb in his flash. "Let's get t'is oveh wit'. I wanna get home." "All right, Bill," gestures Brosnan. "Get it open." McManus fiddles with a large ring of assorted keys, selects a likely prospect, and inserts it in the lock. "Nope," he shrugs, choosing another key. With a dry click, the lock releases, and as Rudy aims the camera, McManus reaches into the bag and withdraws a voluminous pair of gray tweed pants. "At least we know he's a big boy," chuckles McManus, holding up the pants as Rudy's camera flashes. The photographer replaces his bulb, and McManus examines the pants. "Hold on, Pete," he announces. "There's something in this pocket." He reaches in, and withdraws a small rectangle of creased cardboard. "Flap from a box of cartridges," he announces, holding the scrap up as the camera flashes. "Let's have a look," requests Brosnan. ".45 ACP. Hm." "That's it, Pete," continues McManus. "Nothing else in the pants." Rudy inserts a fresh flashbulb as McManus pulls out the next item, an odd long rectangle of dirty blue satin, ornamented in glass beads. "What d'you suppose this is?" questions the detective, as the camera flashes. "Hm," hms Brosnan. In quick succession, McManus withdraws a wadded, frayed shirt, a pair of lumpy brown shoes, and a ragged book with no cover. "Let's see that," requests Brosnan, as the camera flashes. McManus hands over the book. "Annemann's Practical Mental Effects," reads Brosnan, scanning the tattered title page. "Hmmm," he repeats. "One more thing in here," announces McManus, producing a manila envelope. He opens it as the camera flashes, and withdraws a single folded sheet. "Pete," he requests, his eyes widening just slightly. "Better have a look at this." Brosnan accepts the paper and gives it a careful scan. "United States Board Of Parole," he reads. "Certificate Of Conditional Release, made out to an Alphonse S. Zenofsky. Atlanta Federal Penetentiary..." "Hm?" nods McManus. "Hm," replies Brosnan....)

(Ripped From The Headlines...)

(Tick tick tick tick tick tick tick....)

(I think we'd all appreciate an explanation.)

("And he needn't worry, his head is far too bulbous for my taste.")

(Well, not for much longer...)

(I'm really surprised Von Stroheim took this part without at least insisting on better dialogue.)

("Oh yeah? See any rats in this cellar?? I mean, besides YOU.")

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Ew.

I'm sure they'll all get along just fine.

And that's how Fred Furrow became Batman...

That shouldn't be too hard to spot...

"Keep it up, buster, and you will be..."

On the other hand, it does a nice job of exfoliation.

"And be sure the payments are in no later than the first of each month."

If you disband a band, can you reband it later?

A charismatic guy like you, Crispy? Who'd wanna do you in?

Customer service is filled with moments like this.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Worker...

Keep on the sunny side...

 

[Fading Fast]

"Wait'll nex' election," growls Sally. "Wait'll 1948...."

Sally won't have much to be happy about until the 1960s, and then she can hoot and holler for a while, but as we know, all election wins and losses come with expiration dates, we just don't know them at the time.

*********************************************************

I think we'd all appreciate an explanation.

And it better be a good one for all the time and energy already asked of the reader to follow this boring-as-heck story.

*********************************************************

Well, not for much longer...

Again with the Fluffy Ruffles tag.

*********************************************************

If you disband a band, can you reband it later?

Grace Slick did, and more than once.

*********************************************************

Keep on the sunny side...

Think how happy the DW would be if it only knew how well the Democratic Socialists of America would do in 2026 (after having elected a DSA mayor in 2025).

 

[Harp]

Defendant Robert Palmer faces multiple counts of statutory ****, false imprisonment,
kidnapping. A lifer.



Snakes alive! Snake's alive but disfigured, natch.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("T'eh now," observes Joe, pointing with his spatula. "Y'see t'at, how t'at meat's kinda humpin' up like t'at awna grill? Y'know what t'at means?" "Hmm," hmms Shirley Blick. "Something to do with the way it's ground?" "Ya right!" declares Joe. "T'ey packed it too loose inna grindeh, an'na, y'know, strings'a meat t'at come out wasn' even, and had aieh bubbles in'nm. An' when y'see it inna tray, see, y't'ink t'ez moeh meat t'eh t'en'neh IS. T'ats why y'gotta make sueh to wawtch'm weigh it, don' go by whatcha see. T'em wholesale guys at t' Foeht Greene Meat Mawrket would cheat t'eh granmo'teh if t'ey could get away wit' it." "I never thought too much about meat before," shrugs Shirley. "Y'loin awla tricks pretty quick," sighs Joe. "Now, let's say t'ezza lotta steam comin' out'v'it while it's cookin'. T'at means y'probly got sump'n inneh like soybeans, soybean powdeh. T'ey'll stretch a dolleh's woit'a meat out t' two dollehs woit' an' figyeh ya too desp'rate t' know t' diff'nce." "Wow," inhales Shirley. "It's a cut t'roat business," laments Joe, as the door jingles open to admit Solly Pincus. "Hey," he heys. "Gimme a special an'a Coke." "Toity'five," replies Joe, with unusual formality. Solly nods, and slides a fifty-cent piece across the counter, as Shirley steps to the syrup dispenser to prepare his drink. "Lissen," he murmurs. "I been kind'va joik lately." "Yeh," agrees Joe, loading the bread into the toaster. "It's one'a t'em t'ings," Solly continues. "Yeh," nods Joe," poking at the meat with his spatula. "Awright," concludes Solly. "Yeh," exhales Joe....)

("Well," announces Sergeant McManus, tossing a stack of paper on the desk, "our Mr. Zenofsky has quite an interesting packet. Just came over the wire." "Welll," agrees Sergeant Brosnan. "A fifteen year sentence in the Federal pen -- for bribery and extortion?" "Keep reading," nods McManus. "A Prohibition agent?" marvels Brosnan. "I knew those people would hire anybody, but -- " "There's more," declares McManus. "Long record of bunco schemes, swindles, you name it. Even traveled with a carnival for a while, working a mind-reading angle. And then, somehow, in 1927, he's a Prohie." "How'd he swing that?" ponders Brosnan. "Did he just walk in off the street...?" "Here," gestures McManus, pointing to a sheet. "This is from his personnel file with the Bureau of Prohibition. See there?" "Reference from Captain John McLuhan," reads Brosnan. "New York Police Department." "Uh-huh," acknowledges McManus. "Is that..." ventures Brosnan. "Be a mighty big coincidence," suggests McManus, "if it isn't." "I'll be damned," exhales Brosnan. "And there's more," nods McManus. "Keep reading." "Ah," continues Brosnan. "Arrested on suspicion of accepting bribes in the performance of his duties, charged with criminal extortion. Convicted on June 5th, 1929 and sentenced to a fifteen year term in a Federal penitentiary." "Look there," directs McManus. "Names the key witnesses for the prosecution." "Patrolman Thomas R. Doyle," reads Brosnan, "and Francis X. Leary, both of Brooklyn, New York." "Yeah," nods McManus. "Our own particular bad penny," frowns Brosnan....)

(Proverbs 22:6)

(And if you aren't hyped up enough about Army-Notre Dame, we'll have the radio broadcast here for the listening on November 9th. Rah Rah Rah!)

(Actors aren't strange people! They're just directed that way!)

("My father was a Julliard-trained organ grinder. And then his monkey died. I don't think I want to talk about it any more...")

(Well that explains it, you with your arthritis!)

(Six weeks to live. Merry Christmas.)

(Beat The System!)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Sometimes you wonder if maybe there really is a supreme entity shaping the destiny of a struggling humanity, and that entity's name is Chester Gould.

"You gotta be kidd'n." -- Leonora.

He really does like to use those high-powered rounds.

All that and you didn't finish Sorrell? That's some sloppy work, boy. Some damn sloppy work.

Meow.

If Andy is somehow mutating into a superhuman creature, well, at least it's something new...

Pro tip, kids -- the main difference between day and night cream is that night cream is thicker and has a higher oil content so it takes longer to fully absorb into your skin. So a little bit will give you the same results as a larger amount of the day stuff. Knowing that now will save you a lotta coin later...

Of course, that doesn't include the second mortgage you'll have to take out to replace the roof.

At least the shoe shortage seems to be over.

Speaking of second mortgages...

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Worker...

Coming events...

There's Still A New World Coming...