The Invitational Week 78: History for the tl;dr Crowd

Sum up an event for the 21st-century reader in a rhyming couplet. Plus our winning 'good/bad/ugly' progressions.

Hello. We were going to muse wistfully for a spell about how today’s readers no longer value the craft of a well-constructed essay, its argument furthered by each paragraph expertly building upon the previous one.

But we aren’t. Because, we’re told, you don’t have time for such things, semicolons and transitions and supporting arguments and other such eye-glazers.

Just tell what you’re getting at, okay? Preferably with bullet points.

For Invitational Week 78: Summarize any event from history into two rhyming lines, as in these examples from ancient Invites, transcribed from the cuneiform (full results here and here):

480 B.C.: If King Xerxes and friends had invaded Greece properly,
  That unpleasantness could have been skipped at Thermopylae. (Mark
Eckenwiler)

1888: The mind of Jack the Ripper warps: his
Madness leaves a spree de corpses. (Chris Doyle)

1776: Though Jefferson professed all men are equal at creation,
The only way he showed it was covert miscegenation. (Steve Fahey)

Deadline is Saturday, July 6, at 9 p.m. ET. Results will run here in The Gene Pool on Thursday, July 11. As usual, you may submit up to 25 entries for this week’s contest, preferably all on the same form. 

Click here for this week’s entry form,  or go to tinyURL.com/inv-form-78.

Formatting this week: Though we’ll present the inking entries as nice couplets, please write your couplet as one long line, with a slash where the lines should break. Put the year of the event at the beginning of the line. Here’s how we’d like to receive your entry (this one is by Russell Beland, the winner of the 2004 contest):

1925: Even though it’s John T. Scopes whom they were really tryin’,/ Darrow made a monkey out of William Jennings Bryan.

This week’s winner gets toilet plungers that hang from your ears. Who knows when you might be out and about and encounter a stopped-up dollhouse toilet — or two — and you can save the day?

Not recommended for earwax extraction: This week’s prize.

Runners-up get autographed fake money featuring the Czar or Empress, in one of eight nifty designs. Honorable mentions get bupkis, except for a personal email from the E, plus the Fir Stink for First Ink for First Offenders.

Meanwhile, send us questions or observations, which we hope to deal with in real time today. You do this, as always, by sending them to this here button:

Wait — It Gets Worse! The ‘good/bad/ugly’ of Week 76

In Invitational Week 76 we invited you to tell us jokes in the classic good-news/bad-news form, but with even badder, ugly news added. In judging, the judges exerted some prejudice: This entry by Kevin Dopart, for example, was was eliminated with Czarist prejudice: Good: Kiss cam. Bad: Nanny cam. Ugly: Toilet cam.  It was eliminated because “kiss cam” is not “good.” It is a revolting intrusion on privacy, and a tyranny of yahoo crowds braying for strangers to kiss. It’s as disgusting as the idiotic practice at weddings in which guests tinkle their glasses to get their bride and groom to kiss on command. It will not be further dignified here. Mr. Dopart wins an “abuse point” in the Loser Stats for this savagery of his poor taste in cams, but that is it.

Third runner-up:
Good: Someone says you’re pretty.
Bad: But they’re out to get you.
Ugly: And your little dog, too.  (Jesse Frankovich, Laingsburg, Mich.)

Second runner-up:
Good: A 300 bowling score.
Bad: A 300 credit score.
Ugly: A 300 golf score. (Chris Doyle, Denton, Tex.)

First runner-up:
Good:  Your boss just promoted you to CFO. 
Bad:  He fired your predecessor, saying “it’s time to turn the page to a new chapter.” 
Ugly:  That would be Chapter 11. (Mark Raffman, Reston, Va.) 

And the winner of the blinking-eyeball earrings:
Good:  You have impressive office furniture.
Bad: Everyone wants to try out sitting at your desk.
Ugly: It’s January 6.  (Judy Freed, Deerfield Beach, Fla.)

Today’s Gene Pool Gene Poll:

As always, if you feel none of those is the best among today’s inking entries, shout out your favorites in the comments (below).

Hey, Badder, Badder: Honorable mentions

Good: Someone generously offers a cigarette.
Bad: It’s awkward to say you don’t smoke.
Ugly: The only other thing they offer is a blindfold. (Jeff Contompasis, Ashburn, Va.)

Good: You finally decided to cut the cord.
Bad: It was the microwave cord.
Ugly: It was plugged in. (Pam Shermeyer, Lathrup Village, Mich.)  

Good: You jumped into the backyard pool on a steamy day.
Bad: It hasn’t been cleaned in a while.
Ugly: It’s a cesspool.  (Kevin Dopart, Naxos, Greece)

Good: Carolyn Hax.
Bad: Political hacks.
Ugly: Lizzie Borden hacks. (Kevin Dopart)  

Good: It’s finally time for your big presentation.
Bad: Others judge the delivery as too slow-paced.
Ugly:  You have to come out by C-section. (Jeff Contompasis)

Good: Your orchestra has never sounded better.
Bad: The audience seems distracted.
Ugly: By a surprisingly large iceberg. (Judy Freed)

Good: You’re drilling and hit a gusher.
Bad: The spillage is everywhere and you can’t contain it.
Ugly: You’re a dentist. (Sam Mertens, Silver Spring, Md.)

Good: Folding an origami bird.
Bad: Folding a winning hand.
Ugly: Folding a fitted sheet. (Jesse Frankovich)

Good: Got right through to a real person without being put on hold.
Bad:  It was the wrong number. 
Ugly: You were calling 911.  (Judy Freed)

Good: You’re at a gathering where people are speaking very highly of you.
Bad: You can’t hear a word they’re saying.
Ugly: It’s your funeral.  (Jonathan Jensen, Baltimore)

Good: Astronaut Barbie.
Bad: Teen Talk Barbie.
Ugly: Klaus Barbie. (Kevin Dopart)

Good: My son is planning to vote.
Bad: He’s planning to vote for Trump.
Ugly: My son is Hunter Biden. (Neal Starkman, Seattle)

Good: One of your son’s videos goes viral.
Bad: It’s on Nextdoor, not TikTok.
Ugly: It’s Ring doorbell footage of him stealing a Kia from a driveway. (Terri Berg Smith, Rockville, Md.)

Good: Ooh, look at the cute kitty!
Bad: Wait, why is it swinging its paw at me?
Ugly: Oh, right, I’m a hamster. (Mark Raffman)  

Good: It’s the Publishers Clearing House Prize Patrol at your door! 
Bad: They call you Herbert, but your name is Joe. 
Ugly:  Herbert is your despicable next-door neighbor. (Beverley Sharp, Montgomery, Ala.)  

Good: You aced your cognitive test.
Bad: You’re telling everyone. 
Ugly: The same people, every five minutes.  (Frank Osen, Pasadena Calif.)

Good: You’re interviewed at length by a newspaper reporter.
Bad: You’re wondering why the reporter looked kind of puzzled.
Ugly: All your quotes end in “[sic].” (Roy Ashley, Washington, D.C.)

Good: You are gazing upon millions of stars in a spectacular display.
Bad: It is really cold out.
Ugly: Your spacesuit tether broke.  (Jesse Frankovich)

Good: You find a parking space on K Street. 
Bad: You use up a whole roll of quarters for the meter.
Ugly: It’s Sunday.  (Rob Cohen, Potomac, Md.) 

Good: Your boss recognizes your exemplary work.
Bad: By asking you to work late.
Ugly: To train the recent graduate who’s replacing you at half your salary. (Karen Lambert, Chevy Chase, Md.)  

Good: Your daughter is paying her way through college.
Bad: She has to work insanely long hours.
Ugly: At her OnlyFans site. (Karen Lambert)  

Good: You’re finally home after being out all day.
Bad: Your dog ignores you.
Ugly: Because he’s eating the steak thrown to him by the thieves currently ransacking your house. (Dave Prevar, Annapolis, Md.)

Good: You’ve got a big date tomorrow! 
Bad: You don’t have time to get ready.
Ugly: It’s your trial date.  (Mark Raffman)

Good: Your credit score has gone up.
Bad: Because you’ve opened some high-limit lines of credit.
Ugly: Which must have been done by somebody else. (Sam Mertens)

Good: Dad wearing the new socks you got him.
Bad: With sandals.
Ugly: And nothing else.  (Jesse Frankovich)

And Last: Good: You got ink last week!
Bad: You notice a typo.
Ugly: You shouldn’t have gone to Tatoos 4 Less. (Leif Picoult, Rockville, Md.)

The headline “Wait — It Gets Worse” is by Tom Witte; Jesse Frankovich wrote the honorable-mentions subhead.

Still running — deadline 9 p.m. ET Saturday, June 29: our Week 77 contest to write a script for a “Barney & Clyde” comic strip about memory loss. Click on the link below.

The Invitational Week 77: Ebenezer Screwed

Meet the Parentheses! Schmooze with the Losers (and the Empress) at the Flushies, their annual awards/potluck/singalong. This year it’s in Crystal City, in Arlington, Va., on the afternoon of Sunday, July 7 (blessedly indoors). Any fans of The Invitational are welcome. Click here for the info and to sign up.

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Now we enter the real-time portion of the Gene Pool, where Gene will take your questions and observations, and respond to them. Send your stuff to this awesome creamsicle-colored button:

Many of today’s questions relate to Gene’s call for Petty peeves: Tiny things that bug you. Also, the meaning of “mauve.” Also, some other stuff.

Q: I had the meaning of “mauve” burned into my brain by a science fiction novel back in high school. In Niven & Gerrold’s “The Flying Sorcerers”, it is used as one of many “naming” puns. “As a color, shade of purple gray” renders to “As-A-Mauve” = “Asimov” (as in “Isaac Asimov). 

The color name that has always caused me problems was “chartreuse”, which I habitually associated with reddish purple, even after learning (from the liqueur) that it is really greenish yellow.

A: I did not learn the color of chartreuse until less than a year ago, at the age of 71, when Julien, my son-in-law, bought a bottle of the horrifying liqueur.

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TIMELY TIP: If you’re reading this on an email: JUST CLICK ON THE HEADLINE IN THE EMAIL AND IT WILL DELIVER YOU TO THE FULL COLUMN ONLINE. Keep refreshing the screen to see the new questions and answers that appear as I regularly update the post.

Also, if you love being in love, send me money. If you love yourself more, and self-pleasure too frequently, don’t.

Q: One of the few amusements of my medical maladies is my own body's weirdness. I had half my liver removed because it was growing a giant but benign tumor. However, said tumor was trying to choke off important blood vessels that I needed functional so it had to go. Anyway, the liver regenerates and grows back but not in the same shape as the original removed lobe. It just fills in the available space. My favorite is when I have to go for a routine CT scan and I slide into the machine, here the whirring, then it stops and rapid footsteps come into the room and a nervous voice goes, "Uh, have you had any, uh like abdominal surgeries." There is always a beautiful wave of relief when I tell them that yes, half my liver was removed in my late 20s. 

A: The liver is an amazing organ.   I wrote this in the Hypochondriac’s Guide, about my bout with Hepatitis C:  

“The liver is not like most organs, which are small and delicate and highly efficient.  If organs were businesses, a kidney would be a tidy French restaurant, with a pastry chef and a saucier and a head chef and a maitre d’ and a small, busy staff of waiters, busboys, and sommeliers, all working together harmoniously to create a daily miracle of art and skill.   The liver, on the other hand, would be more like a sanitary landfill staffed by 12 drug addicts and a dog.  Now let’s say the hepatitis C virus is a homicidal postal worker with a Kalashnikov assault rifle, and he enters the French restaurant.  Within a few seconds, he will have taken out two or three highly skilled professionals, the delicate balance of jobs will have been upset, and the restaurant will have to close.   But send that virus to the landfill, and who cares? A landfill operated by ONE drug addict and a dog will operate just fine.  Sometimes for years.  And then, one day, the gasses will ignite.  It will not be pretty.”

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Q: Ahem. My weird body thing is this: I get random hiccups, but they are not ladylike hiccups. I sound like a donkey braying--or rather, like half of a donkey bray, because when they happen my diaphragm spasms and I do this sharp intake of breath that sounds sort of like "HHAAAAWWWWUP." It is always loud. I never know when it's going to happen, with one exception: if I eat bread without any beverage, that will set it off. But sometimes it just happens. It is only by the grace of God that it hasn't happened while I was doing any public speaking, or a presentation, or while whispering sweet nothings in my sweetheart's ear. So yeah. Try living with THAT. P.S. My older daughter has inherited this from me. I could feel her hiccuping in the womb. --Tracy Thompson 

A: I sneeze at a minimum seven times in a row. People get exhausted saying “Bless you.” But my farts almost never make noise.

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Q: What bugs me no limit are radio DJs who insist on talking not only through the beginning and ending music of songs but also of tromping on the lyrics themselves  -- seems to be worst here in DC  Metro but maybe just since we've lived here 25 plus years -- one local DJ has talked through the end lyrics of "Stairway" numerous times out here -- and on a recent trip to the West Coast I discovered he's syndicated or otherwise on the air out there also -- stepping on Stairway from Coast to Coast -- 

A: I have heard these idiots stepping on Mark Knopfler’s brilliant finger picking finale to “Sultans of Swing,” and on  Gladys’s final glorious minute of Midnight Train to Georgia  “I got to go…”  How do you DO that? It’s like pooping on a crepe suzette.

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Knopfler: Listen to the last minute, and imagine what sort of ego-bloated Philistine talks through it.

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Q: I was in college and without a tv when Carter debated Ford. I am BLOWN OVER SIDEWAYS at the fact that he might have been dumber than W!! (But nobody beats the orange smear for idiocy, and we’ve now discovered that it just doesn’t matter any more. Being smart is elitism, right? Being professional and informed on issues, elitist. ). Do you recall what Carter said in return?-- Lynne Larkin

A: Carter did the smartest thing possible. He shut up.

Q: The Maryland Blue Crabs have a fairly standard name, but I am a fan of their motto, displayed in wall-height letters across the stadium: 

CRUSTACEAN NATION

A: Very nice. 

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Q: My memory is getting worse and worse. I hate it when I ask my wife a question and instead of answering the question she tells me when I had asked before. For example: ME: What time is that party on Saturday?   HER: I told you that yesterday.  

I don’t give a damn when you answered the question before. I need the answer now. Isn’t that fucking obvious? I didn’t ask if or when I asked that before. Am I losing some kind of short-term memory competition? Are you keeping score?

A: You have the wrong wife.    Rachel loves that I have no memory.  She can tell the same amusing story three times in a month, and I am equally amused and delighted each time. Also, I get to watch the same great movies over and over.

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Q: I am floored that anyone is below 7 on the violating the Commandment list: never disobeyed parents? Never cursed? Never had a moment of worship of money/sex/pleasure or worshipped a musician/athlete/artist/author, etc., never had ANY desire for something someone else has, never taken ANYTHING that didn't belong to you? That seems incredible to me. I have 8 and I assure you I live an incredibly boring life.  

A: Me, too. I disbelieve anyone who answered fewer than five. I also admit I have had some very attractive neighbors, and coveted their asses.

I have never coveted an ox, or — I think — borne false witness.

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Q: Regarding funny minor league team names, close to home are The Hagerstown Flying Boxcars     Betsy Beyler

A: Indeed. This is their logo:

This is Gene. We’re done. PLEASE keep sending in Questions and Observations to this badly colored mauve button.