This example of that old favorite, Animal Rummy, comes from an undated deck from the Warren Paper Products Co.  And a fresh, clean design it is, too.  Good work, anonymous artisan!

 (Posted by Doug Skinner)

In observance of those solemn back-to-school days, the Ullage Group is pleased to invite you to its third fiesta-fiasco of oddities.  Come step “Through the Blackboard” for a Sunday afternoon of unadulterated educational pleasure.

Lisa Hirschfield, Anthony Matt, and Doug Skinner will show and tell about oral traditions of the classroom and schoolyard, antique stereoscopic edutainment, the secret world of occult youth groups, the evolution of the school lunch, and much more.  There will be moiré patterns on the overhead projector, autoharp songs, and a chance to test yourself on a 1969 Flash-X from Educational Developmental Laboratories.  And unlike real school, you don’t have to hide your beer.

It’s all only $5; it’s at 3 pm on Sunday, September 28; and it’s at Brooklyn’s lovely Jalopy Theater.  Directions can be found here.

(Posted by Doug Skinner)

Yes, it’s an election year; and no, I won’t add to the punditry.  It’s not that I have nothing to say on the subject, but this site is devoted to the other part, and that’s what I’ll stick to.

I would like to mention, however, that religion is playing an ever larger part in US politics.  It was once taboo for politicos to spout theology; now millionaires squabble openly over who’s more Christlike.  It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a secular citizen to enter the White House.

It may have started in 1980, when the GOP really went after evangelicals.  The winning candidate was seen by some as the Antichrist (for Ronald Wilson Reagan = 666), and by others as the Messiah (I forget why).

But elsewhere, a slight, white-clad figure crossed America that year, forging a more direct link between church and state.  She was Vivenus; and she came here from Venus to spread the message that “It’s not odd to vote for God.”

Vivenus arrived on Earth at 10 pm, on September 24, 1960.  A flying saucer (or “swoop,” as they call them on her home planet) let her out in Central Park; and she replaced an Earth woman, Viv, who had grown suicidal over her failed singing career.

Or so she said; perhaps you can guess at a likelier, and sadder, back story.  At any rate, she became a regular guest on radio talk shows and UFO conventions.  And, between 1974 and 1981, she walked 17,756 miles, through 290 cities, to “enlighten this planet with love.”

She received some press coverage in 1980 for her religious campaign: “It’s God for President!  So go become a resident!  Write him in and we can win!  And come election day we’ll say, ‘Oh, it’s not odd to vote for God.'”  I quote these lyrics from a press cutting (“Oakland Tribune,” 7/13/80).  She distributed this song on tape; I’d love to hear it, if any of you have a copy.

Vivenus disappeared sometime in the ’90s.  NYC composer, Alan White, who knew her, has written a musical about her.  She is not forgotten.

I’ve scoured the web, and found few images.  So here, for her fans, are some press photos taken from her 1982 book Vivenus: Starchild.  You can click on them to see them larger.

(Posted by Doug Skinner)

It’s Friday; it’s time to relax after that taxing week.  Ullage your beverage, and cast your connoisseur’s eye on another specimen of that most overlooked field of graphic design, the kiddie card.

We have another “Old Maid” deck, this time a 1935 “Big-Little Card Game” from Russell.  The pairs in this version, are, curiously, a mix of alliterative children (Hasty Horace, Sally Scrub) and Mother Goose characters (Old King Cole, Miss Muffett).  I’ve chosen Dan Daub — no doubt an idealized self-portrait of the unknown artist.

And here’s the Old Maid as well. 

(Posted by Doug Skinner)

is an Abolitionist—
A man who wants to free
The wretched slave—and give to all
An equal liberty.

THE ANTI-SLAVERY ALPHABET

Alphabets usually have a not-so-hidden agenda, aiming to do more than reinforce rather arbitrary connections between the names of letters and the words that demonstrate their forms and sounds.

Some alphabets teach the names of animals or common objects. Others just purport to be alphabets but are actually morality tales in 26 brief episodes. This alphabet, published in 1847, was the bright idea of some Philadelphia abolitionists, who wished to remain anonymous. My guess is that it served a triple purpose. In addition to teaching children their ABCs, it taught them – by helping to develop their sense of empathy – that slavery was not nice. And – because parents, grandparents, older siblings, servants, or governesses would likely have read this book over and over again to their little illiterate ones – it might have effectively renewed the same ethical imperative in their own antebellum, bourgeois, callous, enervated, fatigued, and god-fearing souls.

TO OUR LITTLE READERS.

Listen, little children, all,
Listen to our earnest call:
You are very young, ’tis true,
But there’s much that you can do.
Even you can plead with men
That they buy not slaves again,
And that those they have may be
Quickly set at liberty.
They may hearken what you say,
Though from us they turn away.
Sometimes, when from school you walk,
You can with your playmates talk,
Tell them of the slave child’s fate,
Motherless and desolate.
And you can refuse to take
Candy, sweetmeat, pie or cake,
Saying “no”—unless ’tis free—
“The slave shall not work for me.”
Thus, dear little children, each
May some useful lesson teach;
Thus each one may help to free
This fair land from slavery.

Children’s literature didn’t really exist (in the modern sense of “literature”) until the 18th century, and much of that was hardcore moral instruction. Fairy tales were not exactly  typical children’s fare, and fantasy in general was considered quite dangerous to  young, malleable sensibilities – certainly anything without a vaguely construable Christian moral. The mainstream notion of what constitutes “appropriate” children’s literature has changed quite a bit since then, I would hope. However, a children’s book without a “point” is still a pretty rare bird.  Writing such a thing might involve a thorough linguistic and narrative deconstruction: no mean feat, and, considering the still-somewhat-impressionable audience,  pretty subversive if you think about it. Now that is a book worth banning!

In any case, there is a universe of forgotten children’s literature to be explored. Thanks to Project Gutenberg for this little foray.

is the Cotton-field, to which
This injured brother’s driven,
When, as the white-man’s slave, he toils,
From early morn till even.

is a Zealous man, sincere,
Faithful, and just, and true;
An earnest pleader for the slave—
Will you not be so too?

is for Xerxes, famed of yore;
A warrior stern was he
He fought with swords; let truth and love
Our only weapons be. *

*”X” is always a tricky one, isn’t it?
(Posted by Lisa Hirschfield)

Our last “Slap Jack” dated from 1935; this one is from 1965 (Western Publishing Company). A lot has changed in those thirty years: graphics are looser; Jacks are slappier.

(Posted by Doug Skinner)

We have for you another outpost on the extremes of literature, another specimen of the radically long or brief.  This one is on the short side.

The output of the Italian Futurists is uneven: sometimes exuberantly imaginative, sometimes merely creepy and jejune (especially when the fascist strain predominates).  But I usually enjoy the sintesi: bits of theater cut down to their essence.  Some are provocations (a single howl or gunshot), some parodistic (a five-act tragedy reduced to five lines), some gags akin to burlesque blackouts.

Angelo Rognoni, atypically, preferred the charming.  Here’s my translation of his 1923 sintesi “Sunday,” which pares a day in the park down to nine lines.

SUNDAY

A public park.  A bench.  Downstage, a deck chair, with the FIRST MAN, obviously quite bored, stretched out on it.  A girl and a soldier enter from right.  They sit on the bench.

SOLDIER: Lovely day.  What’s your name?
GIRL: Maria.
SOLDIER: Mine’s Carlo.
(A man crosses, holding a little boy by the hand.)
BOY (whimpers, repeats with monotonous insistence): I want a snow cone…  I want a snow cone…  I want a snow cone…
A WORKER (to his wife): Hurry up, hurry up.  If we’re late, the theater will be full and we’ll have to stand.  (They exit.)
SOLDIER (to the girl): How about a little walk?  (They move off slowly.)
FIRST MAN (rising suddenly, exhaling): I’m so bored.  I don’t know what to do with myself.  (He leaves.)
SECOND MAN (enters, takes FIRST MAN’S seat): Ah!  At last!  Today I can take it easy.  (He dozes as a young man enters.)
YOUNG MAN (runs across, shouting): We won!  Two to zero…  Two to zero…  Two to zero…

(Posted by Doug Skinner)    

The idea is a simple one: if you have trouble learning the notes on your ukulele, simply paste this chart onto the fingerboard.

As someone who has played and taught uke for many years, however, I’d like to point out that this is not a good idea.  First of all, you don’t really want to play while staring at the fingerboard.  Then, too, the paper would soon fray under your fingers, leaving your fingerboard covered in sticky scraps of paper.  This would make the instrument more difficult to play.

You do need to know what notes you’re playing, but it’s more practical simply to learn them.  It’s not hard; if you need an Appliable Fingerboard Chart, perhaps the uke is not for you.

(Posted by Doug Skinner)   

We haven’t broached the many versions of “Old Maid” yet; it’s time we did.  This one came from Parker Brothers.  I’d like to know when, but they won’t tell me.

Old Maid was always an odd game.  The implied message is that you will become an Old Maid if you don’t pair off; but the Old Maid never looked unhappy with her lot, and the other characters only paired off with themselves, which doesn’t sound too thrilling.  If I were Nosey Newser, I’d prefer another face on the pillow.

The anonymous artists seem to have enjoyed coming up with different characters and Old Maids for the game.  For your heightened pleasure, I’ll also include the Old Maid for each deck, so you can compare.  Here’s this one (please pardon the wrinkle; the Maid is Old).

(Posted by Doug Skinner) 

I’m happy to report that “The Puppet Show,” featuring, among many other wonders, some of my collaborations with Michael Smith, will be at the Contemporary Museum in Honolulu from September 6 to November 23.  For more info on the show, see Bulletin 4 on this site; for more info on the museum, look here.

The next Ullage Group fiesta-fiasco, “Through the Blackboard,” has been scheduled for September 28, at Jalopy (where else?).  More details will be unveiled later.

Plans are afoot to devote some of the Ullage Group cyber-acreage to a site about that grand old man of Forteana, John Keel.  I’ve known him for many years, and have interesting material to dump on you.  We will keep you posted.

And a final thought.  During a recent trip to the post office, the man behind me offered this assessment of one of the clerks: “Some people have such a bad aura, that if you melted ’em down and made a building out of ’em, nobody would want to go in there.”

(Posted by Doug Skinner)