[I wrote this brief appreciation of George Jean Nathan’s immortal compendium, The New American Credo, for the “Classic Bookshelf” column of “Fortean Times” back in June 2001.  I’ve pulled it from the boneyard, just so you can chew on it.]

George Jean Nathan and his fellow iconoclast H. L. Mencken spent much of the 1920s collecting the superstitions, urban legends, and stereotypes that informed the American belief system.  They published editions in 1920 and 1921; the enlarged 1927 version appeared under Nathan’s name alone.  This last contains 1,231 entries.  I’ll confine myself to quoting the first: “That the elephant tusks, swamp moss and specimens of old arrowheads periodically brought back by explorers from the African jungle are of great value in adding to the store of human knowledge.”

This is cold, funny, clearly observed stuff — even a few pages automatically foster critical thinking.  The cumulative effect is exhilarating.

The Credo has two remarkable antecedents, both worth plugging here: Flaubert’s Dictionary of Received Ideas (left unfinished at his death in 1880) and Swift’s Complete Collection of Ingenious and Genteel Conversation (1738).  These, too, were long labors of outrage, stockpiled over many years.  All three works share a bracing contempt for the lazy word and thought, and a determination to pin them squirming onto the reader’s cortex.  Many of the details are particular to their time and place; it hardly matters. 

[I’ll quote five more, just for the pleasure of it.]

70: That when a comedian, just before the rise of the curtain, is handed a telegram announcing the death of his mother or only child, he goes on the stage and gives a more comic performance than ever.

233: That if a dog is fond of a man it is an infallible sign that the man is a good sort, and one to be trusted.

441: That street-corner beggars have a great deal of money hidden away at home under the kitchen floor.

753: That most great men owe their success to their wives.

1070: That the chief pastime of young medical students is hurling human arms and legs at each other in the dissecting room.

(Posted by Doug Skinner)

This sketch comes from a notebook kept by Richard Shaver’s wife Dorothy; the notebook contains recipes (both manuscript and clipped from newspapers) and miscellaneous jottings. 

I can’t be certain that it’s by Shaver, since it’s unsigned.  The handwriting looks like his; and the artwork, although cruder than his usual style, resembles other sketches he made of what he saw in rocks.  Could it be by Dorothy?  She made ceramics (I have one of her ashtrays); maybe she drew as well.  At any rate, it’s from the Shaver household, and Chief Sun Shine is a cheery presence by any standard.  He hangs on my wall, and I’m always glad to see him.

(“Chief Sun Shine” was displayed as part of “Microlithomania”; for more on Shaver, see the earlier post, “Thinking Backwards,” as well as the indispensable website Shavertron.)

(Posted by Doug Skinner)

For 35¢ you could give your beloved the gift of sound —
in the form of an Amazing Talking-Tape Card.

This particular example was made by the now defunct White & Wyckoff Manufacturing Company of Holyoke, MA. Since 1889, White & Wyckoff had been part of a thriving paper industry in Western Massachusetts towns such as Holyoke and Chicopee. According to the instructions on the back of the package, you tie a knot in one end of the red plastic tape, and insert the other end through the back of the card. Holding the card “in cupped palm of left hand” you draw your thumbnail along the ribbed side of the tape to hear the birdie talk.

Here’s a sample:
Happy Birthday

This is essentially very simple phonograph technology. As with the grooves in a record, the sound is encoded in the ribs, and the nail of your right thumb acts as a needle.

Unfortunately, there are no alternative methods provided for those of us who are left-handed, or without a thumb. Other messages available in this series include:

(Posted by Lisa Hirschfield)

It’s Friday at the Ullage Group, and time for another children’s card game.  For late arrivals, or for the perplexed, we explain that we offer a sample from this most marginal, disposable, anonymous, and overlooked field of graphic design as a weekly lagniappe. 

I have no date or publisher for this edition of that perennial favorite, “Crazy Eights.”  Are we to assume that the dog and cat are insane because they’re not fighting?  A game, after all, is sweeter with a moral.

(Posted by Doug Skinner)

“Microlithomania” unfurled on a drizzly Sunday; we had a nice crowd. The ullage was uncorked, and shots of Alsation pear brandy were handed to our hosts at Jalopy, Geoff and Lynette Wiley.

Doug began with a few remarks, explaining the Ullage Group a bit, or trying to, and then giving credit to John Michell for his book Megalithomania. He then followed with a three-part talk on stone simulacra. The first part introduced the stone stars of Sion-Vaudémont, in the Lorraine: crinoid fossils with a rich tradition as a local luck charm; the second concerned Checkerboard Crossing, or the Giants’ Highway, in Beggs, OK (shown above): a limestone formation with a history of Beggsian folklore; the third surveyed the paintings of Richard Shaver, sparked by the pictures Shaver saw in stones.

Lisa followed with a talk on the cultural and psychoanalytic overtones of “toads-in-holes,” the historical reports of toads and frogs found alive inside stones.

An intermission followed, during which Doug displayed one of the stone stars, dug from the French dirt many years ago, and an original drawing by Shaver. There was a moment of panic when an audience member dropped the tiny star, but it was found nestled in a floorcrack.

Anthony then closed with a videoed interview with Dr. Javier Cabrera in Ica, Peru, who showed his collection of dubious petroglyphs; and stereo slides of an Ullage Group outing to Ringing Rocks State Park, in Upper Black Eddy, PA, accompanied by Brian Dewan’s recording of us hammering on the damn things.

The attendees chattered, dispersed into the drizzle; and we were left with the warm afterglow of carrying heavy projection equipment.

(Posted by Doug Skinner)

About ten years ago, I discovered this Japanese cartoon while skimming through a circa-1940s scholarly journal. I don’t recall what it was doing there, or why, or that it had any particular relevance to the critical essays I was perusing, which is no doubt why it caught my attention. (Nor do I remember much about what I was looking for, or why, but assume I was doing background reading for an essay I was supposed to write.) Finding what seemed like an editor’s wayward thought squirreled away for years in a dusty bound volume gave me a moment of real pleasure, especially since it was such an unexpected sort of thought. I made a poor copy of it before I put the book back on the shelf, and it has been posted on the wall above my desk ever since.

The piece is entitled “Yielding.” I know nothing else about it, other than it depicts what happens when a small bench threatens the comfort of two very different people.*

Of the six scenarios shown, does any one come closest to solving a most common dilemma: unlimited desire confronted by limited capacity?

Is there any chance for equitable compromise? Should they take turns? Or should one of them simply suck it up and walk off into the sunset to look for another bench? Somehow, that doesn’t seem possible within the world of this drawing. Misery loves company, after all. Sometimes, misery is love’s company. In this case, it is love’s geometry.

Although opposites are said to attract, I have often wondered, had these two each been tall and aloof, or short and striped – that is, shaped sympathetically – would they have found happiness? Or, maybe there is a Seventh Way.

*(As I cannot read Japanese, I don’t know what the inscription in the top right corner might reveal in regard to the author or context, so ad hoc translations are most welcome.)

(Posted by Lisa Hirschfield)

This week brings you a bold design from “Spinner Fun Game,” an undated game from Built-Rite.  29c got you a spinner, 20 cards (showing a cowboy, a cowgirl, an Indian, a scarecrow, and a clown), and the promise that it’s “fun to do.”

(Posted by Doug Skinner)

The Ullage Group presents its second afternoon of oddities at the Jalopy Theatre: “Microlithomania,” devoted to unusual stones smaller than megaliths.  We will have mini-talks on ringing rocks, stone stars, archeological hoaxes, toads-in-holes, pseudo-roads, and other anomalies; from Doug Skinner, Anthony Matt, and Lisa Hirschfield.  There will be slides, specimens, a video of the unusual Dr. Cabrera, and examples of Richard Shaver’s rock art. 

All of this will unfurl on May 18th, at 3:00 pm, at Jalopy Theatre, which is at 315 Columbia St., Red Hook, Brooklyn.  Admission is $5, and well worth $6.

Directions to Jalopy can be consulted here.  

“Trail Drive,” a western themed pack from Arrco, claims to be “a game you’ve never played before.”  Once again, no indication of date.

(Posted by Doug Skinner) 

“Rummy,” in some version, has long been a mainstay of game publishers.  This elegant edition was put out by the Whitman Publishing Company: once again, no date is given.

(Posted by Doug Skinner)