Callithump Thunderblog

Sick in bed. But don't feel sorry for me- I gots the internets machine right here in bed with me. Ask me a question. Go ahead. Any question. What was that? You want to know what Isadora Duncan's last words were? Just a moment. I will get that information for you.

Here it is:

Duncan was a passenger in the Amilcar^[5] automobile of a handsome French-Italian mechanic, Benoît Falchetto, whom she had nicknamed 'Buggatti' [sic]. Before getting into the car, she said to a friend, Mary Desti, and some companions, "Adieu, mes amis. Je vais à la gloire!" ("Goodbye, my friends, I am off to glory!"); however, according to the diaries of the American novelist Glenway Wescott, who was in Nice at the time, Desti admitted that she had lied about Duncan's last words. Instead, she told Wescott, the dancer actually said, "Je vais à l'amour" ("I am off to love"), which Desti considered too embarrassing to go down in history as the legend's final utterance, especially since it suggested that Duncan hoped that she and Falchetto were going to her hotel for a sexual assignation. Whatever her actual last words, when Falchetto drove off, Duncan's immense handpainted silk scarf, which was a gift from Desti and was large enough to be wrapped around her body and neck and flutter out of the car, became entangled around one of the vehicle's open-spoked wheels and rear axle. As The New York Times noted in its obituary of the dancer on September 15, 1927, "Isadora Duncan, the American dancer, tonight met a tragic death at Nice on the Riviera. According to dispatches from Nice Miss Duncan was hurled in an extraordinary manner from an open automobile in which she was riding and instantly killed by the force of her fall to the stone pavement."^[6] Other sources describe her death as resulting from strangulation, noting that she was almost decapitated by the sudden tightening of the scarf around her neck.<sup>[7]


Wow. Like how I answered your question with links and footnotes that really work and all? This is a result of the internets machine. Years ago, someone might ask, "What were Isadora Duncan's last words?" and be met with something like this, "I don't remember exactly. It was French and it was ironic and after she said it she drove off and was strangled by her scarf which got caught in the wheels of her roadster." And then someone would say, "I wish I could remember exactly what she said." And then someone else would say, "I used to know, but I forgot." This would be followed by someone else saying, "It was really cool though, and dramatic. I remember that." And then someone would say, "And it was ironic and French, but I can't remember the exact quote."

That is pretty much how the conversation would go. But now, we just google up our answers and that is that. So, pretty much we don't really need to know anything anymore. You can just take all that information you got taking up space in your frontal lobes and dump it in the recycle bin. In my case, it isn't a lot of information anyhow. The internets machine will tell you everything you need to know. Here is what I learned visiting Yahoo just now-

Monday is the best day to start a diet. (I would have guessed that the best day to start a diet would be "tomorrow." As in, "I will start that diet, tomorrow.")

Ladies, the slip is dead. (This makes me sad, although I don't own a slip, and I never liked wearing them when I did.)

Michael Jackson's life was full of emotional and health issues. (You don't say?)

Moms love pretty babies more than they love ugly ones. (Who the hell funded this study?)

If you have a telephone interview, you should dress up for it. (I can imagine taking a couple of hours frantically changing outfits trying to find the perfect outfit for my telephone interview and trashing my bedroom with discarded items of clothing, because this is what I do for a real interview. But for a TELEPHONE interview? I guess that, if the interview doesn't go well however, one could just blame it on the outfit.)

If you are a real jerk to the waitstaff, someone might just spit in your food. (I was kinda hoping that wasn't true, although I am always pleasant to the waitstaff.)

Here are my cyberstroll takeaways-

As soon as I feel better, I am going to go out to buy a slip- just to be a rebel. I am going to wear said slip under everything, even pants.

Mark my word, tomorrow I am starting a diet. Tomorrow is Monday, so it works.

There is money to be made- someone should invent saliva test strips so that jerks can go ahead and be jerky to the waitstaff. They can be as jerky as they want and then just test the food for spit. I think that jerky people would like a product like this.

My child was the prettiest baby on earth, which was fortunate for him, otherwise I couldn't possibly have loved him. He should totally count his blessings.

I really took nothing away about the dressing up for the telephone interview advice, except I think it is stupid. What better excuse to get naked, than having a telephone job interview? Then, when you get the job, you can will always have that awesome inside joke with yourself about the great interview suit you wore.

About Michael Jackson- I think it is heartening that we all seem united in our thoughts about him. A man of absolutely enormous talent, his continual bizarre metamorphosis throughout his career was at the same time, interesting and disturbing. The untimely death of this icon probably shouldn't strike us as surprising, given his self destructive tendencies, but none-the-less it has been a shock. His loss feels tragic.

And finally, speaking of icons, regardless of Isadora's last words, she was really, really super-cool. I have always had a bit of a crush on her.</sup>


Adieu, mes amis. Je vais à la gloire!







Go ahead and click on the teeny envelope icon and send this post to a friend. Don't be jerky and claim that you wrote it because I wrote it, damn it. Well, most of it. I did take a significant portion from Wikipedia. But I am being honest about it. So it is ok. But the rest of it came from straight from my very own brain.