January 22nd, 2004

flavored with age

Abe!

Remember Abe Rosenthal? No? Then you're probably younger than me, and not obsessed with the New York publishing industry.

Back in the dizzay, Abe Rosenthal was the editor-in-chief of the New York Times, which is like being the Pope of Publishing. Unfortunately, his career begain in, I believe, the 1870s, so in 1986, just a few days short of his 614th birthday, the Times forced him to retire. But that didn't stop this churning engine of journalistic integrity!

He soon began writing a column called "On My Mind" that became famous for its cranky conservativism and utter incomprehensibility. Spy magazine, in particular, had a field day with his bewildering stream-of-unconsciousness writing style, and presented a monthly recap of his deranged old coot ramblings called "Out of My Mind".

Well, guess what? That was twenty fucking years ago, or near as dammit. Spy is dead and gone. But Honest Abe, now preparing to celebrate his millionth birthday, is still writing his crazy-ass column. And it makes as little sense as ever. Here's his latest, proof that his column is just as batshit as it ever was.

Funsy!
flavored with age

Tin soldiers and Bush is comin'

Fuck a fistful of Ohio.

Is it too obvious to point out that while we’re stuck in the middle of a foreign war that has been justified in terms of bringing freedom to the Iraqi people, we’re simultaneously gearing up to deny freedom to American citizens here at home? Is it just too trite to say that we need to put our own house in order before we embark on all this overseas adventurism? Is that why the Democratic party aren’t saying it, or is it just that they’re chickenshit?

Bah. I don’t want to hear another fuckin’ word from people, especially conservatives, about “freedom” and “liberty” and “opportunity” until they can explain to me why they spend so much time trying to restrict people’s freedom.
flavored with age

Thank you, the internet, for making my fat nerd dreams come true!

Yes, Vagina, there really was such a thing as the Seven Up bar:

This site talks about the Sky Bar, which it mentions as being like a Seven-Up bar.

So does this one, although it implies that the Sky Bar and the Seven-Up bar are the same thing.

This site claims that Seven-Up bars no longer exist and suggests Sky Bars as an acceptable substitute.

This site erroneously claims that the Seven-Up bar was a product of the ‘80s.

Finally, from here, a gold mine of Seven-Up Bar knowledge. It’s from the City Pages in Minneapolis, and claims that Seven-Up bars were made in St. Paul, were discontinued in 1979 (ah, I was but ten and beginning to lose my fat-kid innocence and prepare for fat-man disillusionment), and even lists the ingredients!

It was, as Ray Broekel chronicles in The Great American Candy Bar Book (1982) and The Chocolate Chronicles (1985), a wild and woolly time in the world of candy, and anyone with a little money and a dream could take a swing at nougat immortality. Imagine a time when a trip to the local drugstore allowed the purchase of Minneapolis's own Cherry High Ball, or one of St. Paul's own Trudeau Candies, such as the fantastic-sounding Seven Up, a bar composed of seven small, candy-box-style chocolates welded together. Its original incarnation featured four types of caramel, a Brazil nut, coconut, and jelly; by the time it was phased out in 1979, dark chocolate covered segments of mint, nougat, butterscotch, fudge, coconut, buttercream, and caramel. Now I feel gypped: Why are we stuck with Hershey's, Hershey's Almond, and Chunky? Bah, humbug.

I’m not crazy! You’re the one that’s crazy!!!