///Indie Journal Daily///

Saturday, May 31, 2003

Sunday; rehashing the mysterious case of the Black Dahlia, part two

When Beth Short’s body was found in mid-January, 1947 after a reported meeting with a gentleman at the Biltmore Hotel on Wilshire Boulevard in Los Angeles, foul play was first ruled out. Detective Frank Frontparlor, who was one of the first policemen on the scene when the body was found, later admitted that Beth’s was only one of many severed bodies found from July, 1946 through March, 1947.

Though no one recalls him saying so, Detective Frontparlor said, “I could be mistaken, but we were looking into a number of cases concerning severed bodies. We found some of them in two different places. I figured it was the work of some deranged lunatic, since it did not show signs of being the work of some intelligent clean-cut citizen.”

Members of the newly formed Let’s Solve The Beth Short Case Society (LSTBSCS) meet weekly with one member designated to bring cold cuts and another assorted beverages, and discuss the strange case. “She often dressed in black,” one member told me in secret, “which is where the black in Black Dahlia came from. To this day, though, I have no idea what a Dahlia is.”

Another member told me, “We think she knew Marliyn Monroe. This would mean nothing as far as her murder is concerned, but it sure would be cool.”

The president of the LSTBSCS, a man who refused to be identified in print but allowed me to take photos of him wrestling an antique Studebaker, said, “The cops called it the Black Dahlia case because Beth wore black and the Veronica Lake actress was in a movie that had that title. This is what leads me to believe Alan Ladd killed her.”

Some LSTBSCS members point to a vampire as the killer. One told me, “Beth’s blood was drained when they found the body. When she was alive, all her blood was inside of her. So, you don’t have to be a genius to figure that a vampire could have sucked her dry, then chopped her in half.”

But the most striking of all speculations is that Beth Short committed suicide. An author now working on a book claims that Beth decided to kill herself in a way that would assure her immortality. “She knew she wasn’t going to be known as a great actress,” he said under the condition of anonymity, “so she worked out the details and killed herself. It worked. Over fifty years later we are still writing books and forming clubs and building web sites about Beth. A killer will never be found, but the legend of the Black Dahlia will live forever, thanks to Beth’s commitment to immortality.”

Frank Cotolo 8:57 PM

Friday, May 30, 2003

Saturday; rehashing the mysterious case of the Black Dahlia, part one

There were thousands and still are thousands of young women in Hollywood who are beautiful, star-struck, dreaming-of-fame gals. But one, a long time ago, did become famous, however, for all the wrong reasons. The unsolved murder known as the Case of the Black Dahlia has been studied and written about for decades. Homicide detectives across the land have been convinced they cracked the case, only to find out they were probably wrong. Some new theories have risen, as a nationwide interest in opening the case surfaced from the curious sudden popularity of the phrase “black dahlia.”

A little history of the case, first.

Beth Short was a wannabe actress who went to California wanting to become a star. It was common knowledge that she had “a genital defect that rendered her incapable of having standard intercourse.” Some study speculated that she was capable of having uncommon intercourse. That is, intercourse with male knowledge in the use of homemade preserves. Also, her genital defect, others speculated, did force her to perform normal functions differently than others. For instance, one acquaintance reportedly said that because o her genital defect, Beth Short was unable to sit through a Van Johnson movie.

Nonetheless, she was a beautiful girl and she frequented nightspots in California looking for intimate partners. One early investigation of her death involved a young man she met at the Pingo Pango Club on Hollywood Boulevard in mid-1946. That young man, allegedly named Brute Distinction, was actually Arnie Schniztbolder, another wannabe star. Brute’s testimony to authorities included his swearing that Beth did not have sex with him, though he admitted she was pretty excited about watching him hand dry his underwear while singing the chorus of Moonlight Becomes You.

It was mid-January, 1947 when Beth Short was last seen alive. That sighting was at the Biltmore Hotel on Wilshire Boulevard. It was reported that she was at the Biltmore to meet a gentleman, though the source of that report was never verified. It was first believed it came from a cigar salesman at a pharmacy near the hotel. Then it was learned that Beth never went to that pharmacy met the salesman or smoked cigars. Anyway, after leaving the hotel, Beth Short was never again seen alive. Her body was found, severed, in the Crenshaw district on Jan. 15, 1947.

A homicide expert from Los Angeles today, said the case is “baffling, though there is no doubt she was severed by another human being.” Members of the newly formed Let’s Solve The Beth Short Case Society (LSTBSCS) also believe someone got away with murder.

To be continued

Frank Cotolo 10:02 PM

Thursday, May 29, 2003

Friday; the many meanings of Jones

Jones is a family name held by nearly 18 million Americans. But in the early 1960s, it was applied to heroin addiction. In the 1970s, the noun -- no longer capitalized -- most often referred to withdrawal symptoms, and made the transition to verb: jonesing out. In 1984 or so, the word jonesin' was extended to mean ''doin' nothin','' as is the behavior of most addicts. But it was not until the new millennium that the word made the leap into popular speech as a generalized “a craving.”

In a new book titled Keeping Up With The Jones, author Kermit Fantasticide attempts to follow the fascination with the name Jones and its spin-offs into various meanings in the English language. I talked with Kermit about his book. Here is that interview.

Indie Journal Daily: So why did you pick the name Jones to research?
Kermit Fantasticide: I tried at first to research my own surname, but that book turned out to be only twelve pages.
IJD: Why not the name Smith?
KF: Good question. Maybe that should be my next book.
IJD: Tell us a little you found out about the Joneses.
KF: For one, few people seem to know that the name was originally Jonesiptich.
IJD: How did it get cut?
KF: Someone knocked out the ‘iptich.’
IJD: I see. And what nationality was it originally?
KF: The first recorded Jonesiptich was a Viking.
IJD: Really?
KF: Didn’t I just say that?
IJD: Yes, but a Viking?
KF: I know it is strange, but that’s one of the things that got the book sold to a publisher. No one else ever published that.
IJD: How did the name, then, get to be so popular in America?
KF: Well, the popular singing group, The Andrew Sisters, made it popular with their World War II song, You’re A Lucky Fellow, Mr. Jones.
IJD: I thought the name in that song was Smith.
KF: Not at first. It was released using the name Jones, then re-released using the name Smith because of a lawsuit.
IJD: But wasn’t the name Jones popular way before World War II?
KF: Sure. In 1657, no less than thirty thousand Joneses were born in America. Five of them were deformed, sixteen were Chinese and a hundred were born with straw hats.
IJD: And what about the title of the book, which is a popular phrase even today?
KF: That comes from the rich Jones family of 1866, in Maine or Alabama or North Carolina or some other state, I don’t recall. Anyway, this rich family always bragged about all they had and dared everyone to obtain as much. So everyone tried to keep up with the Jones.
IJD: Why is it sometimes said Jones and other times said Joneses?
KF: That’s not in the book.
IJD: All right. What is your next book? The Smiths thing?
KF: Either that or a story on the famous Bends family. You know, the ones who swam deep and got sick when they surfaced too quickly?

Frank Cotolo 11:12 PM

Wednesday, May 28, 2003

Thursday; where there’s life, there’s Hope

Today a remarkable thing happened. Bob Hope turned 100 years old. It’s remarkable in many ways, but in one sense it is ultra-remarkable. All you have to do is sit back and count how many of his many contemporaries are pushing up daisies to realize that this American institution, still breathing, has one hell of a constitution.

Darrel Zanuck, the movie producer, was asked how he lived to be 100. He said, “I quit smoking at 98.” Mr. Zanuck wasn’t even known as a comedian. If Mr. Hope were to tell us what he felt his secret to longevity is, the answer might be fatally funny. Maybe that’s why we don’t hear Mr. Hope interviewed live anymore. Maybe he is so funny that people could fall over dead if he makes a joke.

Or what if he can’t even remember a joke? What if at 100, Mr. Hope has lost much of his sharpness? It’s a horrible thought, even for an icon that old. However, even though the shower of darkness called death is more likely to hit Mr. Hope sooner than you or me (I say most likely, because I have these pains in my chest) a certain immortality is built in to the English-born living monument. So much documentation of his work will always be available that generations from now people will have exposure to Mr. Hope and know of him. Long after the world forgets Bruce Springsteen (that date is currently pending, but said to be soon) Mr. Hope will be entertaining people around the world.

I met Bob Hope once. That was back when he could walk on his own. He was bright, casual and not at all intimidating. He was also shrinking. That was in the late 1980s when he was already well on the way to 100. I also have known people who worked with or knew Mr. Hope. That’s how I know he liked to eat ice cream in bed. A reputable source told me that, so I believe it. Of course, these days, I doubt if he eats ice cream at all and I would imagine he isn’t crazy about being in bed, considering the symbolism.

They say that as people become older they sleep less. It’s a psychological thing. At 100, maybe Mr. Hope doesn’t sleep at all? In any event, I would like to wish Mr. Hope a happy birthday, hoping he comprehends the three-digit age miracle. I would also like to thank Mr. Hope in this space for all of his early black and white movies, mostly. Those romps will always live inside me, inspire me and make me believe that my own hope springs eternal.

Frank Cotolo 8:16 PM

Tuesday, May 27, 2003

Wednesday; Readers Survey

Every now and then and again sometime, writers such as myself or the publishers of writers such as myself (not that there are many writers such as myself but let’s generalize for today) like to know just who is reading and what they care about. Well, maybe not what they care about but what they like or dislike about reading a particular thing. This daily department is, if nothing else, a particular thing and the publishers of the Indie Journal Daily would like to know what you think about this particular thing.

So, we have put together what is commonly known as a Reader Survey. Please answer the following questions and email your answers to fcotolo@yahoo.com. I will gather all of these emails and send them off to the persons who allow me to write this blog every day. They, in turn, will evaluate the results and probably tell me I owe the responders money. I’ll deal with that when the time comes. Thank you in advance.

1. Do you read the Indie Journal Daily daily?
2. Do you read the Indie Journal Daily weekly?
3. Are you reading the Indie Journal Daily at all? If not, what are you doing here now?
4. Do you enjoy multi-part, episodic columns or single-day essays?
5. Do you enjoy essays on current news items?
6. Do you enjoy ramblings on specific topics? Any suggestions?
7. What time of day do you read the Indie Journal Daily?
8. Is this the best blog you ever read, or what?
9. How many responses do you think this survey will generate?
10. What is your age?
11. What is your sex?
12. What is the meaning of your life, in a paragraph or two?
13. Is this question unlucky?
14. Should this column be shorter than it usually is?
15. Should I use more cuss words in my text?
16. What beverage do you enjoy while reading the Indie Journal Daily?
17. Are you single, divorced, married or just looking?
18. Do you own a computer?
19. How can every web porn site make money?
20. In a few descriptive words, give your opinion of the author of Indie Journal Daily.
21. If a man has four barrels of corn worth twenty dollars each and two are stolen and sold on the Black Market for half then what they are worth and the other two lose twenty percent of their value for not being in a group of four, why would corn be shipped in barrels anyway?

Frank Cotolo 7:17 PM

Monday, May 26, 2003

Tuesday; jumping Jupiter

Recently, the Cassini spacecraft passed by Jupiter on its way to Saturn. Its high-powered cameras took a deep look at the giant planet named after the Roman god. Now, after studying a select subset of the whopping 26,000 images, researchers say they have new insights into everything from the weather on Jupiter to its disconnection from anything concerning Roman history.

The Cassini Focus Team (CFT) has described the spacecraft findings in a scientific journal read only by people in the scientific industry and then only by those whose names are mentioned. CFI wrote that the findings of the billion-dollar spacecraft prove Jupiter is the solar system’s largest planet.

“In the past,” said a spokesperson from CFT, “we measured Jupiter with our hands, comparing it to other planets. For instance, Pluto is really small, like holding a tennis ball. But we would have to put our hands way out, like we were holding a basketball, to describe Jupiter. Now, with photos of Jupiter we can see that it isn’t just proportionately bigger than Pluto, it is considerably bigger than a whole baseball stadium filled with basketballs. Quite a finding.”

As one of the so-called gaseous planets, Jupiter “doesn’t have a distinct surface, like Earth does,” according to the spokesperson. “In fact, it doesn’t have territory broken up into map-like areas, either. If Jupiter had an area, or country, named, say Calisophican, we wouldn’t know where it begins, ends or why it should be called Calisophican. Not like Iowa.”

Jupiter, too, has at least 52 moons. “We thought it was more like 51 or 46 or 32 or 12 or 44 or 13 but never 52. Until we counted the pictures the Cassini sent back. Granted, there were a few grease spots on the prints because we were counting while eating a fast-food lunch, but we are sure the number 52 is correct.”

The Cassini ship used Jupiter’s strong gravity to boost the spacecraft towards Saturn, its next stop. “We can’t wait to see what Cassini tells us about Saturn,” said the CFT spokesperson. “There is a good chance that it, too, is bigger than Pluto, not to mention those colorful rings going around the planet. Oh, sorry, I wasn’t going to mention that.”

Frank Cotolo 8:44 PM

Sunday, May 25, 2003

Monday; a heated debate on sports

The debate continues. What are the toughest tasks in sports? Many a sports staff in many a town, city and country have taken up the challenge to produce a top-10 list of the most difficult things to do when playing games. It was not limited to professional games, either. The sports staffs were smart enough to realize that people play a lot of sports without receiving paychecks.

In fact, another sports staff study showed that 99 percent of all people who play baseball in the United States (a 44-percent error margin either way) do not receive money to play, while 88.8 percent of them do not remember Choo Choo Coleman.

The expert sports staffs conducting the meaningless survey said they want to look at these sports “through our own eyes, as wannabe athletes sharing our misadventures in the search for sporting stardom.” This adds some validity to the worthless project, since all of the sports staffs are manned and womanned [sic] by people less likely to go professional in sports than a Bombay chalk salesman. Although more accomplished athletes contributed insight as to what makes their sports so hard, most people feel that their opinions are nothing more than bias rants about how hard they work to earn a paycheck for playing a game.

The results of the useless task of accumulating all of this information are not complete. The sports staffs involved have many members who refuse to speak to one another, mostly because some of them demand that each sports staff member disclose his or her sexual preference before typing “xox” in the body of an email. In any event, here are some early responses from amateurs, their names withdrawn for fear of reprisal from other respondents.

“Hockey, because a puck is smaller than a baseball and a hockey stick is smaller than a bat. A puck is also smaller than a football, harder than a tennis ball and the guys chasing and slamming it around are on skates. Try hitting a tennis ball on ice. I hate anyone who doesn’t think this way.”

“Synchronized swimming. You got to have a clock in your head and spit out water while moving your arms and legs and head.”

“Biking. The concentration required to work all the gears at the same time you are hanging off a bike going into a 150-plus mph headwind with a bloody nose and a good shot of red-bloodcell performance enhancers boiling in your veins is the hardest thing to do. Even brain surgery is easier."

“Bowling. Nailing the 7-10 split requires the right spin, curve, speed and can give you a hernia that requires an operation costing thousands of dollars.”

“A jockey in horse racing is the most dangerous. These guys got to puke a few times a day just to keep their weight down. What kind of nourishment do they get, then? All that puking is unhealthy.”

We’ll report on the results when the study is complete. Maybe.

Frank Cotolo 7:47 PM

Sunday; some new things I found out

Sometimes I find out the most ridiculous things. And the sources revealing them swear they are true. For strange and suspicious reasons, I wish to share the newest remarkable things I have learned. Take them or leave them, here they are.

In Lebanon, men are legally allowed to have sex with animals, but the animals must be female and dressed in tight black stockings. Having sexual relations with a male animal is punishable by death. However, a good lawyer could reduce that sentence to dismemberment.

In Bahrain, a male doctor may legally examine a woman's genitals, but is prohibited from looking directly at them with horn-rimmed glasses during the examination. He may only see their reflection in a mirror, and then it must be a ten-by-ten mirror adorned with flowers.

Muslims are banned from looking at the genitals of a corpse. This also applies to undertakers, local bakery salesmen and snake charmers. The organs of the deceased must be covered with a brick or piece of wood at all times, except for two hours after noon when it can be covered with either plastic wrap or exactly one-week old newspaper.

The penalty for masturbation in Indonesia is decapitation. Remarkably, not one person has ever been caught or penalized.

There are men in Guam whose full-time job is to travel the countryside and deflower young virgins, who pay them for the privilege of having sex for the first time. Reason: Under Guam law, it is expressly forbidden for virgins to marry unless they have visited the original Disneyland.

In Hong Kong, a betrayed wife is legally allowed to kill her adulterous husband, but may only do so with her bare hands. If she performs the act with alligator hands, say, she will be impaled. The husband's lover may be killed in any manner desired, with the exception of force-feeding, stabbing with a dull pencil or painting the body in a manner that would kill someone in a James Bond novel.

Topless saleswomen are legal in Liverpool, England but only in tropical fish stores. Topless salesmen are allowed anywhere Brian Epstein once shopped.

In Cali, Colombia, a woman may only have sex with her husband, and the first time this happens, her mother must be in the room to witness the act while balancing a pound of fruit on her head.

Humans and dolphins are the only species that have sex for pleasure or using foreign objects.

The ant can lift 50 times its own weight, can pull 30 times its own weight and always falls over on its right side when intoxicated. Ants and humans are the only species who fall over when intoxicated.

An ostrich's eye is bigger than it's brain. A squirrel’s brain is bigger than its feet. A beetle’s back is better than its front. A raindrop’s velocity is equal to the depth of a leaf from an oak tree. A drop of saliva is worth two in the bush.

Frank Cotolo 12:06 AM