The Invitational Week 81: Picture This
It's our caption contest. Plus winning alt-ideas for Independence Day.
Hello. We’ll get right into it.
For Invitational Week 81: Write a caption — as many as 25 total — for any of the seven pictures above and below. For guidance, inspiration, and plain ol’ entertainment, take a look at the results of Week 61 and the results of Week 49 to see what we like in a caption. (More info below the set of pictures.)
Formatting this week: Begin each caption only with the letter on the picture — as in A. [your caption] — and keep each caption to a single line; i.e., don’t press Enter in the middle of a single entry. If you’re submitting multiple entries (might as well!), be sure to begin every caption with the letter on the picture.
Deadline is Saturday, July 27, at 9 p.m. ET. Results will run here in The Gene Pool on Thursday, Aug. 1. 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-81.
This week’s winner gets the handy reference volume Farts: A Spotter’s Guide, a board book meticulously describing such species as the Seismic Blast, the One That Got Away, and the Flight of the Buttock Bees. Complete with a sound box purportedly re-creating the various buttular pronouncements — even the Silent but Deadly. Donated three years ago by Pie Snelson and declined by a previous winner who didn’t think his kids needed this on the family bookshelf.
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:
Sillying Fourth: Independence Day ideas from Week 79
In Invitational Week 79, which we introduced on July 4, we asked you to come up with alternative ways to celebrate Independence Day.
Third runner-up:
Celebrate the delicacies of the Colonial table by setting out a buffet of eel soup, roasted beaver tail, boiled pigeons, and calf’s-foot jelly. (Jonathan Jensen, Baltimore)
Second runner-up:
Sacrifice a cherry tree from the Tidal Basin. Lie about who did it. (Kevin Dopart, Naxos, Greece; Jesse Rifkin, Arlington, Va.)
First runner-up:
Teams with shovels dig up and rotate the skeletons of the Founders in an annual Rolling in Their Graves event. (Chris Doyle, Denton, Tex.)
And the winner of the happy socks:
Doomscroll the internet, hate-watch some TV, and then relax with a rage-walk. (Frank Osen, Pasadena, Calif.)
Today’s first 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.
So Proudly We Failed: Honorable mentions
Sell deep-fried copies of the Constitution on a stick. (Sam Mertens, Silver Spring, Md.)
Celebrate the new national mascot: the combover eagle. (Leif Picoult, Rockville, Md.)
Honor the American spirit of excess by eating 7/4 as much as you usually do. (Duncan Stevens, Vienna, Va.)
Shut down social media and cellphones on July 4. All communications must be either in person, via scrolls, or by town crier. (Pam Shermeyer, Lathrup Village, Mich.)
Cities replace dangerous fireworks displays with environmentally safe high-frequency signals that are entirely invisible but equally effective at terrorizing dogs. (Frank Osen)
If you’re in Texas, pay homage to your regional cuisine by putting out tamales and tacos, separated from the hot dogs and hamburgers by a miniature wall. (Jonathan Jensen)
On the Fourth, Americans can celebrate freedom by driving without seatbelts, parking on the sidewalks, smoking wherever they please, eating monkey meat, leaving their dogs’ poop in the street . . . (Jon Ketzner, Cumberland, Md.)
A skywriting contest in which pilots compete to make the biggest, clearest John Hancock signature. (Jon Ketzner)
Since six of them vow always to think just as the Founders did, the Supreme Court justices must wear powdered wigs all day. (Jon Ketzner)
Let’s celebrate the Second Amendment by holding Revolutionary War reenactments using modern weaponry. (Mark Raffman, Reston, Va.)
Everyone trades in their semiautomatics for muskets. (Neal Starkman, Seattle)
First recall that many of the Founders owned slaves. Then yell at yourself for disrespecting their legacy and call yourself the “woke mob.” Then devolve into a vicious internal flame war that leaves you far sadder but no wiser. (Duncan Stevens)
Fly flags with an inverted image of the Supreme Court. (Mark L. Asquino, Santa Fe, N.M.)
In a symbolic act of protest, drop an Earl Grey tea bag in the Mall’s Reflecting Pool. (Chris Doyle)
Just cut to the chase: Skip the purchasing and preparation of fireworks, and instead amputate multiple fingers in a nice sterile environment. (Duncan Stevens)
Use your phone to take a picture of your butt crack, then send it to friends and family with the caption “My Liberty Bell.” (Lee Graham, Reston, Va.)
Three words: Bald eagle burgers. (Gregory Koch, Falls Church, Va.; Sam Mertens)
The headline “Sillying Fourth” is by Jesse Frankovich; Jesse also wrote the honorable-mentions subhead.
Still running — deadline 9 p.m. ET Saturday, July 20: our Week 80 contest to say how any two items on our random list are alike or different. Click on the link below.
Now we enter the real-time portion of the Gene Pool, where Gene will take your questions and observations, and respond to them, in real time. Send your stuff to this awesome Creamsicle-colored button:
Many of the questions and observations that we’ve received so far were based on Gene’s challenge to come up with the worst food you’ve ever eaten, with explanation. Also, your thoughts on the assassination attempt and its aftermath, and the effects on the presidential race. If you are reading this in real time, please remember to keep refreshing your screen to see new Qs and Os as they come in.
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Q: Hypothetical yet timely question: Is it ever okay to not wish for someone to be hurt by foul play but to wish for them to be done in by a medical emergency such as a heart attack?
A: Whoa. This is a fabulous question. It probably should be asked of a theologian or philosopher, not some half senile dork who tells jokes for a living. I’ll duck the question, but put it to a vote.
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Q: What do you think is the responsibility of the press to investigate the Trump shooting? Any time I can think of when a politician has been shot, we get reports from the physician that treated them, descriptions from law enforcement about what actually happened, etc. We've seen none of that with this incident. There are unfounded rumors flying around in the vacuum. I think we need to get to the bottom of this for a number of reasons, mostly that Trump may be lying (again) about this whole thing. — Sean Clinchy
A: It’s true, and interesting, and disturbing but I don’t see a conspiracy. The media-related anomaly that I find most puzzling – I really do not understand it and fear newsrooms are cringing – is the relatively moot question of the bullet in the ear. In the very early hours after the attempted assassination, the most repeated narrative was that Trump was not hit by a bullet but by a plastic shard from a shattered Teleprompter. This seemed to make more sense, intuitively, because he’d be more likely to be hit by one of a dozen pieces of shrapnel spraying in all directions than by a single bullet that came close to his brain and did what appeared to be only scratchworthy damage. A bullet generally not do scratchworthy damage.
But then Trump said he was hit by a bullet — the more dramatic scenario — and the entire media narrative changed. Suddenly, that became established fact. I wait for the official word. Um, if it ever comes.
Okay, some of you have asked us what is the best way to assure the defeat of the lying rapist tyrant-wannabe. The best way is for every able-bodied American who does not want to see democracy dismantled to come out and vote Democratic in November. The second best way is to upgrade your Gene Pool subscription to “paid.” We would tell you why, but that would reveal our strategy to the Other Side.
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TIMELY TIP: If you’re reading this in real time 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.
And please remember to Observe and Question button here:
Q: So the Trumpsters think God saved Trump, so it hit another guy who died trying to save his family? God did not stop Hitler before he committed all those atrocities. Do they really think God gives a fart about this totally amoral sociopath who can’t quote a single verse of scripture, and has apparently broken all but one commandment? Well, at least we just haven’t found the bodies yet.
A: This was recently posted online:
Q: I was a child of the 70s and 80s. More, I was a chunky child of the 70s and 80s, born of a chunky mother. Believe me when I say that 70s recipes from the Weight Watchers Club basically took all the wonders of 70s cuisine and made it worse. Weaponized levels of worse. I've had worse meals, but never with this kind of aggressive hatred of the human tongue. I remember specifically Sweet and Sour Liver, using tomato paste, pineapples, and cooked to death green peppers and onions - not caramelized, that would add fat and/or flavor. Just dumped into the congealing tomato/pineapple sauce.
– Deci
A: There are actually recipes for this online. It has its adherents. Yet even one of those adherents notes, quite correctly, that the dish looks like “my dog’s breakfast regurgitated.” See below:
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Q: Did you have to cull any entries to this week's 4th of July contest in light of the assassination attempt on Trump? I submitted two entries that I do not wish you to print attributed to me under the circumstances even if you find them otherwise inkworthy (reader specifies which ones.)
I think you mentioned culling political entries after 9/11 that had been submitted before, I'm wondering how much of the same you did here.
A: We made no adjustments in our choices after the attempted assassination. Immediately after 9/11, we culled out entries making fun of W’s intelligence. There was no such calculus exercised, or needed, here. No entry seemed tasteless.
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Q: I had a Hawaiian friend in seminary who suggested we go out for Chinese food at a local place. He said that we weren’t going to order off the menu, but eat REAL Chinese cuisine. Being fluent in Mandarin (as well as Hawaiian, Japanese, Maori and passable in several other Polynesian tongues), he spoke with the owner. The food was excellent except for one thing. There was a sauce that my friend said I should eat it without smelling it. If I smelled it, it would probably make me ill, but the taste is amazing, he said. I tasted it, and I have to say it was okay, a bit fishy, as I recall. But I couldn’t take more than one taste because the idea that there was a food I couldn’t smell before eating nauseated me. I never did smell it, whatever it was.
A: Interesting story but I don’t get it. Smell is an integral part of taste. How can you taste something without smelling it?
Q: While in Mongolia a dozen or so years ago, I swore to myself I had to try airag, their national drink, which is fermented mare's milk. It had the color and consistency of thin, fizzy yogurt, and smelled like horses. I took one sip, and could feel my stomach roiling like the witches' kettle in Macbeth. But I managed to keep it down.
A: “Smelled like horses” is excellent.
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Q: My son and I ran a Turkey Trot 5k race. He, a collegiate track athlete in his prime, finished ninth out of 1000+ entrants. I, a fifty-something with a few extra pounds, finished. We hit the snack table for some post-race refreshments. He took a bite of some non-descript dried meat product. “Ugh, dad, this is the worst thing I ever tasted! You have to try it!l”. Of course, I took a bite. Just as bad as described. “What the hell is that?” The sign, partially obscured, read: “Natural dog treats .” Naturally.
A: Could have been worse. You could have had to eat the stuff for a week. I did.
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Q: FWIW, it's been noted (sorry for the passive voice but I'm feeling lazy) that none of the Teleprompters were broken. So it's possible that he was hit by shrapnel from something else, but not one of those.
A: Ah, thank you. I am anticipating eventual confirmation it was not a bullet in the ear, you know. But let;s wait and see.
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Q: Gene, from your perspective as a writer and journalist, is there a worse cliche in the universe than "shots rang out"? Coverage of EVERY shooting in America inevitably uses it.
A: I think “heaved a collective sigh of relief” is marginally worse, if for no other reason than that it is used more often. I also hate “in the wake of.”
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Q: I was raised Episcopalian, meaning you eat what your host gives you without complaint. My downfall was boiled okra. I was not raised in the South, and was not prepared for the snot. That's the only way to describe it, as snot! I had choked my way through "southern" style corn bread (made with no sugar) and too salty roast chicken, but almost lost it all when I tried the okra! I could only eat one bite.
A: Calling okra’s coating “snot” is juvenile and prejudicial and provincial. Shame on you. It is “slime.”
Q: Chicken wings. I know you’ve covered this aspect of them before, but I can’t find the article or discussion. Flats are superior to drumettes, right? If not, please explain.
A: Yes, flats are vastly superior to drumettes, which are gristly and taste like particularly dinky and meatless drumsticks. I wrote about this humiliating moment only two months ago:
I was at Eastern Market, buying chicken wings. I have an obnoxiously specific preference in chicken wings: I don’t like the part that looks like a little drumstick; I prefer the other part, that looks like a large, meaty paper clip. So I was trying to communicate this to the man behind the counter, a genial man I’d done business with before; I told him I didn’t like the drumstick part as much as I liked the other part, but I didn’t know what to call it.
“It’s the frat,” he said. Or “fratte,” or whatever. We weren’t writing this out.
Cool. I now had a name! “I’d like more of the frat than the other part, if you can do that, I’d be grateful. More frat than drumstick.”
The man suddenly went silent and sullen; gave me my order wordlessly, rang me up, turned away.
As I walked home, I tried to puzzle this through. And then it hit me in the face like a stinking baggie filled with dog poo, flung by a catapult.
The man behind the counter was a recent Asian immigrant. He was telling me the piece of chicken was ”the flat.” Quite reasonably, he must have thought I was making fun of his accent.
I had no idea how to fix this, and eventually decided there was no way without making things worse. I avoided him for a while, hoping he would forget that I was the schmuck.
Q: When I was in elementary school my class made a field trip to Constitution Hall to attend a tiny tots concert. When Howard Mitchell, the NSO conductor, announced the final piece he called it the Lone Ranger Overture. I knew damned well it was called the William Tell Overture, and I am still bugged at being patronized. Not that I was familiar with that word. One word I am familiar with is crescendo. You don't reach a crescendo. You reach a climax. – Jonathan Paul
A: You said “climax.” But, yes. Alas, some dictionaries – due to common misuse – are now listing it as the peak of an increasing loudness of sounds – sort of like a climax.
Q: What bugs me? Complexity. Why has the modern world become so complex to navigate? Remember when you could turn one knob and push one button, and listen to your desired radio station in your car? How many people actually understand all of the functions of their car radios? (I refuse to buy a car that has a radio - OK, “sound system” - that requires more than five minutes for me to learn how to use. Yes, I drive an older car.). How about calling a business and talking to a human being, without wading through an automated sequence of five or more questions about why you’re calling? These are but a couple of examples of the frustrations I, and many others, confront due to the complexities of modern life. OK, yeah, I’m a geezer. But no one, geezer or not, should have to put up with this crap.
—Jack the geezer—
A: You are 200 years old. I agree with you, though. I am 206.
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Q: In 2008, you said the following: "I was recently sent, by a friend, a hilarious anagram of the name of someone famous. My friend had created it himself. It's spectacular, really. Very naughty. I wanted to share it with people in this chat; in this forum, people would know it was not delivered in a mean spirited way.
I decided I could not let it out, because it would be appropriated by mean-spirited people and used in a bad way." Any chance you could reveal it now?
A: I do remember it. I am not going to publish it now. We are in even crazier, nastier times. Also, the friend has since died, so I cannot seek his advice or permission.
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Q: You wrote this, “ desperately struggling country, ripe for the taking, ruled by undemocratic cycles of revenge, grievance and violence. Our dislike of a man who wants to dismantle democracy should not be sated by an act that dismantles democracy.”. But aren’t you already there. I’m a Canadian and not fond of throwing stones but I can’t see that the US has not fallen to this position already. Some of the things we see are deeply frightening and carry a real sense of foreboding. The viscous hatred from some of your citizens to other citizens is appalling. Please tell me this isn’t true already. Love you, Gene.
A: And I love you, too, Clytemnestra de Nunkyhaven. We are not quite there yet. We are approaching it rapidly.
Q: Speaking of stick shifts. do you double clutch on downshifts or do you let the synchronizers do the hard work.
A: I do not. It is basically pointless on a passenger car; some clutch enthusiasts will claim otherwise. Big trucks don’t have synchros, so their drivers have to double clutch.
Also speaking of stick shifts, did you notice that a large majority of our poll respondents either own, or have owned, a stick shift car? Does this represent a new, welcome trend? Nah, it represents that about half of us in this chat are 60 and above.
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Q: Ahhh, fresh durian - gross and stinky. big mistake to keep it in your hotel room. Strangely good when combined with coconut in Vietnamese candy though.
– Stephen Dudzik
A: Wiki notes about this Asian fruit: “The smell evokes reactions ranging from deep appreciation to intense disgust.” My note: It’s conspicuous among frut in that the rind is covered with spiky, thorny projections. It is like God is urging us to stay away from it.
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Q: Here's something I can't figure out: Many three-letter federal agencies are responsible for protecting our nation from enemies foreign and domestic. When it comes to classified info leaks (and many issues too numerous to name), Trump has proven to be a five-alarm fire. A clear and present danger to national security. How on earth, if the American people take a giant dump on democracy and elect Agent Orange, are these agencies going to protect classified info? The prez, who would get a top clearance, has a history of private meetings with Russian reps. He has a history of storing classified docs near his home toilet. My guess is that these agencies are waiting to see how the election plays out, but I don't see how they can allow Trump to get anywhere near the Oval Office again. I'm assuming, of course, he doesn't currently have access to classified info. I'm not big on conspiracy theories, but don't you think these agencies have a plan for, you know, a "heart attack" or an "accidental" fall if Trump wins the election? Or perhaps, because Trump is so stupid, they'll simply filter out the most sensitive info before giving him briefings. Unbelievable that the biggest threat to U.S. democracy is a candidate for U.S. president.
A: There will be no plans for a heart attack. The withholding of certain documents is more plausible. It can be defended as an oversight, if caught. Murder cannot.
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Q: In todays' (7/18/24) Post Edition, in the Digest on Page 3, a woman named Sue Mi Terry is being, well, sued by the government. She's been indicted, anyway. Is that some version of an aptonym? — Tom Logan, Sterling ,VA
A: Sure. It is what I call a situational aptonym.
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Q: Years ago, a coworker of mine was a big fan of authentic Italian foods. For some special occasion that I no longer recall, a few of us pitched in and got him a sampling of flavors from a locally famous eatery in our version of Little Italy. When we presented it to him, he was so appreciative that he magnanimously offered to share it with the group. One of the foods in the sampler was authentic Italian prosciutto. I happily accepted a slice and proceeded to stuff it in my mouth without giving it a second thought. What followed was, in my recollection, nothing short of a scene from the TV show Fear Factor, wherein contestants had to eat various awful things for prizes. It was like someone took a piece of uncooked bacon, left it in a sealed up car on a hot July afternoon, then force fed it to me. But because I was at work surrounded by coworkers, I couldn't spit it out. Nor did I want to offend the coworker, who also happened to be my boss and mentor. I managed to power through and swallow it eventually but I was so haunted by the experience that I could not eat any type of lunchmeat for months afterward. To this day, I will be immediately nauseated if I think about it while eating any sandwich containing sliced meat.
I did later tell my boss about it - he found it hilarious.
A: Prosciutto is a bit salty for me but it is great draped across cantaloupe or honeydew melon. The sweet offsets the salt. Italians learned this a hundred years ago, or so.
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Q: I used to work retail which means I got home late many nights. Early on in my marriage, my spouse let me know he would be making dinner. I was so looking forward to ready-on-the-table dinner when I got home. Spouse found nothing much in the larder and did not bother to go to the store. He presented me with spaghetti and a sauce improvised from canned V-8. Period. A couple of bites was enough.
A: For some reason, this reminds me of one of Gina Barreca’s best stories. She cites as the lowpoint of her life the time she was traveling for work, and had to take whatever motel was available, and it was a shitty one with soiled carpeting and whatnot, and no food and no amenities. Her dinner that night was potato salad consumed via a shoe horn.
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Q: What bugs me is the NY Times Games, in particular the Spelling Bee ("titled" is not a word!) and the Wordle Game, because I always try to beat the bot. Well, the bot is an idiot. In the most egregious instance, the bot gave me zero points for guessing "pansy" because it was unlikely to be the solution; yet "voila" and "manga" (neither of which are English) were AOK. So was "swish." I leave it there, and invite you to join me in outrage. – Stephanie Smilay.
A: I already have. I stopped doing the Spelling Bee regularly because it is such idiocy. I have a friend who does it daily, trying (and usually succeeding) to reach “Queen Bee.” At the end, he is guessing words like “gnort” in case they recognize it as a word. He does not realize he is a tool of the Times idiocracy. He does not feel abused when they don’t accept a word like “naphtha.” He just takes it, like a feeb.
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And with that, I am outta here. See you on the weekend.
I urge you strongly to keep sending in questions and observations. We have to defeat Trump somehow.
Send em to this defeat Trump button:
I’ll put a good word in for the inverted flag.
The deep-fried constitution was my favorite.