You T, Me A

First of all, I’d like to apologize for the long delay in posting. I’d like to, but I won’t. Instead I’ll blame this pesky plague that invaded our home and struck down several occupants, myself included. To which I can only echo the immortal words of Dottore Antonio Fauci, as he so delicately proclaimed, “Eat my fuck, pandemic.”

Once again I extend my greetings to you, O brave, intrepid, infinitely patient readers, as I return generously basted in Molnupiravir, Azithromycin, Albuterol, Mucinex, Azelastine, Clearasil, Preparation-H, Listerine, and thyme.

I should hereby point out that your Qs haven’t slowed down throughout the pandemic, as fans continue to bombard us with penetrating inquiries and impenetrable nonsense. If anything, the volume of mail has increased as people seek substance, sustenance, solace, knowledge, comradeship, and comfort in these fragile times. And who better to provide same than I, Pinky Tourette, PhD, JD, PCP, LSD, RPM?

With that in mind, I hereby open the floodgates:

Sigmund F. of Vienna asks: I have this recurring dream where I’m in a crowded public place and suddenly I realize I forgot my pants. My question is: What did cavemen dream about, since they didn’t wear pants?

If you’ve seen the classic documentary One Million Years B.C., the answer is obvious, Siggy. They dreamt about the fulsome attributes of Raquel Welch. (Or, in certain cases, the equally fulsome attributes of Victor Mature.)

Prime Minister Boris J. (ret.) of London, UK asks: Where did the expression “the elephant in the room” come from? Was it inspired by a real-life incident?

It’s a little-known fact that most popular aphorisms in use today were originally devised and trademarked by the American Irony Association, headquartered in Eau du Curd, Wisconsin. Chief Aphorologist (his official title) Roland Appleaday, author of many of the most common nonsensical sayings in common circulation (“cute as a button,” “smart as a whip”), has in fact won the coveted Arthur A. Fustian Award an unprecedented 19 times. Trivia note: his personal favorites are “work like a dog,” “sleep like a baby,” and “happy as a clam,” which were specifically crafted to befuddle people whose dogs sleep all day, babies cry all night, and have only encountered clams steamed with butter and garlic.

Neil DeGrasse T. of the Cosmos asks: On the news today they mentioned this thing called climate change. Sounds concerning. What’s the scoop?

Complicated question, Neil. Climate change is in large part a result of unchecked man-made greenhouse gases. Analysts tell us that nearly 30% of U.S. greenhouse gases come from heating, cooling, and operating buildings. Another 30% comes from the transportation sector, while the global food system is responsible for up to 37% more. On top of that, energy production is responsible for a whopping 73+% of annual emissions. The clear takeaway from all this is that yes, we should all be extremely concerned. Clearly our schools are failing woefully at teaching math.

Bart S. of Springfield asks: Which is better: Air Jordans or Jordanaires?

Depends on whom you ask, Barty boy. Jay-Z and Eminem would favor the former, while Elvis and Patsy Cline would surely opt for the latter. As a point of interest, a very small number of individuals actually own a complete collection of Air Jordans. But only Elon Musk owns a complete collection of Jordainaires, stuffed, mounted, and biosynthetically reanimated in a diorama inside his sprawling perisphere in Texas, with “Are You Lonesome Tonight?” playing on a permanent loop. Much to the chagrin of the maintenance staff.

George B. of Bedford Falls asks: All this talk of Putin and tactical battlefield nukes has got me skittish. I’m thinking maybe now’s a good time to revisit personal bomb shelters. So I found these guys on Craigslist that claim they built the Batcave. Sounds solid. They’re asking for a modest $10K down payment. Can you vet them for me?

I hate to disillusion you, George, but the Batcave was not outsourced. It was funded solely by the Duke Corporation, a shell company buried deep within the Wayne Industries umbrella. Construction was handled by a shadow group of child laborers discreetly plucked from local orphanages. Bruce Wayne liked to think of them as his “wards.” The straw bosses were known as “Robins” and frequently graduated to higher-profile (albeit unpaid) cosplay gigs with high turnover and no medical insurance.

Iris Minge of Lake Coppasquat, New Jersey asks: Who invented phrase “sex & drugs & rock and roll?”

Damn, I glad you asked that, Iris. There’s a tremendous amount of disinformation surrounding this topic, as fake news outlets scramble to push their own revisionist rock ‘n roll agendas. We all know that Ian Dury hammered the phrase into the popular consciousness with his 1977 (semi-)hit. Some have suggested that Timothy Leary used the words in a 1960s Playboy interview. Pundits like to point to the use of the phrase in a Life magazine article back in 1969: “The counter culture has its sacraments in sex, drugs and rock.” It could of course be argued that the phrase itself is redundant, as “rock ‘n roll” has been a euphemism for doin’ the dirty all the way back in the early jump blues of the 20s, 30s, 40s. None of which actually answers your question. The phrase itself grew from a tragically unrecorded song played by the Rattles at the dawn of the ‘60s during their grueling seven-hour gigs in and around Hamburg at the same dive bars frequented by their contemporaries the Beatles; places like the Star-Club, Kaiserkeller, Indra, and Top Ten. At a certain drunken and incoherent point in the evening, bass-player Herbert Hildebrandt would wrestle the mic from Hans Reichel to belt out a handful of raucous tunes, despite his – let’s be charitable – less-than-stellar command of the English language. One song in particular resonated with fans: his tribute to a popular teen hangout housed in the community room adjoining a local church. That venue was “Sexton Duggan’s Raccoon Hall” – named in deference to the Rt Hon. Jackie Gleason and The Honeymooners, of course – and thus was legend born. Touring bands like Rory Storm and the Hurricanes, Kingsize Taylor and the Dominoes, and Tony Sheridan brought back to England their fractured memories of Hildebrandt’s slurred masterpiece, and a cultural meme was born, half a century before memes were invented. Hail, hail Raccoon Hall.

And with that I duly retire to the Cobalt Club to fire up a Cohiba or two and sip a hearty Amontillado with my peers, surrounded by mounted animal heads as we chuckle drily at your naïve queries about elephants in rooms.