Muppet Question # 22 Answered

At some point in the deep dark past (I’ve been unable to locate the actual question anywhere – perhaps it was in an email that has expired from my useless email account), Javatari asked something like ...

Who was the only magician (to my knowledge) to ever appear as a guest on The Muppet Show?



His name was Doug Henning, and he was a Canadian magician who died of liver disease seven years ago. He was featured as the special guest star in the 21st episode of season four of The Muppet Show.

Henning’s magic shows were unique, in that he did away with the traditional “top hat and tuxedo” outfit in favour of bright, multi-coloured casual clothing and tights (“ooh err”).


Doug performs an illusion with Doglion
and the poorly-costumed 'Bird Dancers'

Most notable about him was his long, bushy moustache and long, wavy hair. Very ‘hippie’ for the time – and not what was normally expected of a stage magician. He also had an extremely broad and infectious smile.

He is credited with reviving the magic show as a form of mass entertainment in the 1970s and for popularising it on television. No doubt his appearance on The Muppet Show helping him quite a lot in that regard.


Doug performs an illusion for Robin
using two tiny handkerchiefs

Henning was nominated for Broadway's 1975 Tony Award as Best Supporting or Featured Actor in a musical for The Magic Show.

Perhaps most interestingly, Doug Henning ran for the House of Commons in Canada as a candidate for the fringe Natural Law Party in 1993.


Doug Henning
1934 - 2000


.

No More Friday Q+A

I've had enough of the idiots who insult other people over on Ms Fits' Friday Q+A posts, at least one of whom was previously a friend of mine (in the blogosphere) before deciding to have a go at me in public and start a trend of leaving insults for me in the Q+A comments.

Friggin' hell, what's the big problem, anyway? I'm only being entertaining by mucking around and being silly -- and I don't care if they're interested in reading my comments or not. I'm not writing to anyone who's not interested; I'm writing to Ms Fits/the general public who read the comments and know my tongue is always firmly planted in my cheek. Instead, those tools are reading me 'seriously', when 'stupid jokester behaviour' (if anything) is all they should be reading into my comments.

Just relax, people.

So long as Ms Fits doesn't mind (and she said she doesn't, having pleaded with me to return when I disappeared from Friday Q+A for a week), I'll say/ask what I like.

If people don't want to read anything I have to say, here's a tip: Don't!

Anyone who complains about it is missing the point, especially the moron who thinks I was making references to going to school with Ms Fits for my own personal glorification. THAT WAS SARCASM, GENIUS. Read it in context of what the person before me had asked.

I feel like the Working Dog gang when they made Frontline. I won't clarify why/how. You know me; I'm too modest for that.

MORE SARCASM!

Most of my comments over there have been self-depreciating anyway. Get a clue.

At least I have the good grace to ignore other comments that don't interest me; isn't it funny how other people don't extend the same courtesy without feeling the need to be insulting? Oh well. "Rubber; glue", etc.

I love the Internet. How easily old bloggy friends can turn on you. Amazing.

I won't be returning to the Q+A posts. (Cue a resounding cheer from all over at Reasons You Will Hate Me.) Clearly it's going to be a trend to BEVIS-bash over there now, and I'm not even going to go read the comments anymore if they're aimed at firing me up or putting me down (two confusingly conflicting terms).

I knew the BEVIS limericks were going to cause a backlash, and they have. My questions alone didn't do it; they were just a bit of fun. It was how frequently my name kept popping up throughout the Q+A posts that did it, even when I hadn't left a comment myself. Readers got sick of seeing my name everywhere and it started to bug them (which is fair enough), but they failed to take into account that about half of those references were being made by other people. So the carefully-capped number of times I chimed in for laughs was outweighed by the number of times other people were talking about me or writing limericks about me, and suddenly those who didn't care were getting angry every time they saw my name.

I understand how that works; they're not conscious of how often I left a comment or asked a question; they just know that my name cropped up far too frequently for their liking. So they start telling me to shut up. I can understand it, but they're not being fair or thinking it through very rationally.

So the best way to deal with it is to avoid it entirely. Hopefully in time people will stop associating my Blogger name with the term "serial pest", because in a few short weeks that's how I've been labelled.

It's disappointing, because if you read my actual comments in their proper context (such as who I'm replying to), I'm actually just being an amusing little smartarse. I'm not insulting anyone or being mean, I'm not being politically or in any other way controversial, I'm really not rocking the boat at all.

But whatever. I don't want other people's misconceptions of me (caused by elements outside my control) to adversely affect my blogging time.

Best to leave well enough alone, I say. Let the fools continue to insult me behind my back if they want to. I hope they don't, but they probably will. For a while at least.

I'll continue to read Ms Fits' posts, but not her Friday Q+A ones anymore. It's just not worth the hassle and grief.


.

An Amusing Anecdote

With thanks to Army Man magazine; "You were gone too soon."

My wife and I rent a small cottage on the shimmering shores of Lake Superior every summer. The rustic little bungalow is made of rough-hewn logs chinked with mud, and the front door opens onto an unequaled vista of towering evergreens and azure water — just the thing to settle the nerves of an addled contestant in the “rat race.”

Last summer my wife and I were merrily preparing a hearty supper of fresh-caught trout and corn on the cob, when who should wander up but a little old man with a bulging knapsack strapped to his ancient back. He looked like a crusty forest tracker from the days of Lewis and Clark. Hailing us from a distance, he approached our modest lakeside cabin and extended his weathered hand in greeting. Bending forward under the weight of his burden, he whispered something in my ear.

It was an amusing anecdote!

.

Big Blogger Is Back!

See this post for details and to apply to be a Big Blogger Housemate in 2007.


.

Can I Get A Witness?

I was in a car accident on the way home from work yesterday.

Nothing serious (the guy on my right changed into my line without checking his blind spot first, resulting in him side-swiping me), but I've now got to go through the inconvenience of going without the car while it's getting fixed.

It's booked in for Friday morning, which means the weekend and probably most of next week will be a juggling act with my work, Wifey's uni course, and Sweetums' babysitting with Wifey's parents (all of which start at the same time in three very different places). We're gonna have to find a way to do all three things at once, somehow - using the one car.

I realise this isn't the worst thing in the world (people HAVE historically managed to get things done using just ONE car before - and then there's the whole "how did people survive before cars were invented?" philosophy), but that's really beside the point.

Our schedule is based on two cars, and two very different timetables that are independant of each other. So that makes this quite tough.

And considering the other driver was at fault (and admitted so - and I got him to sign a piece of paper for me stating so - and then a woman pulled over who'd witnessed it and had to do a massive U-turn further down the highway to come back and speak to us, which was very kind of her, who also stated the other guy was at fault ... so I should be okay with proving my innocence), it's just a huge hassle to have to go through the whole rigmorole again.

I had another not-at-fault car accident last year, you see. On the same highway. But that time, a woman ran into the back of me as I braked. She also admitted fault and I had to go without the car for about a week ... but Wifey wasn't at uni at the time, and Sweetums wasn't being babysat, so it was much easier just to use our other car to get to work.

I guess anyone who's been in an accident before (whether it was their fault or not) will understand the hassle of going without their car while it's being repaired.

But hey - it's not the end of the world. I was okay; the other guy was okay; there were no other people involved and no one became a casualty. So apart from the stupid woman who beeped at us when we pulled over on the side of the road (we weren't blocking her way or anything - what did she think we were doing? Settling down to have a picnic?!), there was no real need for any anxiety.

That didn't stop my hands from shaking for about an hour, though.

I don't think the other guy used his indicator, either. I certainly didn't see him indicate. I was just happily driving along, and then suddenly he was just trying to sit on my lap.

I actually reacted very well during the accident. I slammed on the brakes, which made the tyres squeal and alerted the other guy (who I should point out was driving a big van, as compared to my little car) that I was even there. I also swerved as much as I could over to the left, out of his way, because thankfully the lanes were kinda wide. He travelled with me a bit, though - partly because he'd already hit me and was perhaps caught in the side of my driver's door a bit, and partly because he was in the middle of his left-moving momentum. So I swerved to the left, but not dangerously so. We were probably doing 80km at the time, and if I'd swerved dangerously, or if it'd been a wet road, or if we'd been doing 100km, it might have been a very different story that ended with me smashed into a concrete barrier, or wrapped around a telegraph pole, or flipped over and over and rolled along the road or something. So I'm quite grateful that the accident ended so smoothly.

I'm also extremely grateful to the woman who travelled so far along the highway, turned around, travelled way back past us again, turned around, and then came back and stopped to offer herself as a witness. The guy in the van had his brother with him, so I figured if they decided to change their story later and try blaming me somehow, he'd had a witness and I wouldn't. That's why I asked him to sign the piece of paper (which he did, but I had no way of knowing if the signature meant anything - he said he didn't have his wallet on him so I couldn't check his details or signature ... my insurance company said it didn't matter because I had his brother's details instead and the licence plate). But until the woman turned up and gave me her details as well, I was worried that it was all going to come back and bite me on the arse.

(Yes, MG - I said "arse"!)

Thank the Lord for that wonderful, kind-hearted woman. How many of you would travel 5km out of your way to go another 5km backwards to stop at a pretty minor accident and leave your details? I'd like to say I'd do the same thing, but to be honest, on my way home to see Sweetums, I'd probably put it in the "Not My Problem" basket.

Well, not anymore. Not after this wonderful lady has done this for me. I'll be doing the same for someone else, if I ever witness an accident like that. No fear.

I'm just glad my Rating 1 hasn't been affected and I won't have to pay anything.

So that's my big story for the week.




I hope.


.

Cool Name For A Nightclub

"Baybee Ceils"



Can you imagine?

"I'm going to Club Baybee Ceils."

*sounds of pummelling ensue*

Hehe.

Radical!


.

Sweetums Update # 4

Sweetums said his first word yesterday morning:


"Hello."


Ain't it funny how such a simple thing can brighten up our lives and have Wifey and me floating on air for the rest of the day?

He's also rolling around, laughing like crazy at silly Daddy, holding our mouths and noses when we're talking to him, reaching his little arms around our necks when we cuddle him, and patting the cats when they wander by (no one's attacked anyone yet).

He's mere moments from crawling properly, and smiles broadly from ear to ear when I get home from work and announce my arrival with the obligatory, “It’s Daddy!”

Sweetums came in and met me at work for lunch yesterday … and he very thoughtfully brought Wifey with him. It was lovely seeing them in the middle of the day. It really cheered me up and I got to show them both off to my colleagues. I couldn’t get Sweetums to say ‘Hello’ to them, but I got him to laugh when I lifted him up into the air. He loves that.

At five and a half months old, I reckon my son's pretty smart.

But I'm biased.


.

Blogger Beta Issues

I was forced onto Blogger Beta the other day (the damn system didn't give me any choice in the matter), and I'm NOT happy about it.

I was purposefully holding out until the problems were fixed. I wasn't SCARED of change. I wasn't being LAZY. I wanted to AVOID all the problems Blogger Beta was experiencing (and continues to experience).

But no, like a jury system or a random lottery, I was plucked from the masses and told, "IT'S TIME" by the Blogging God (whom I call 'Blog'). I think I'd prefer to have been selected for Jury Duty. Even with Pauly Shore.

It didn't take me very long to get pissed off with the new Blogger. Here's the problem I'm suffering from at the moment: Comment Moderation Hell.

So, whoever you are who's left a comment and it hasn't appeared yet ... now you know why. I love you (within reason), and we're told that it will appear in the list SOME DAY for me to approve.

But until then, it's a mystery.

A bit like how Pauly Shore had an acting career.


.

A Prickly Pimply Issue

Hey BEVIS,

Hi, I'm < INSERT NAME HERE >. I was reading about acne on the internet and i ran across you web site. I saw that you were put on Accutain. I went to the doctor today because i am tired of the acne on my chest and face so i am willing to do what ever it takes, but is it really worth it? Your article scared me and i don't know if i should try it. Please e mail me back i'd love to hear what you have to say about it.

< INSERT NAME HERE >




Hi < INSERT NAME HERE >,

Thanks for your email. I'm not sure which of these particular posts you're talking about (listed here in chronological order), but yes, I was a regular taker of Roaccutane in my teenage years.

http://ibloggedmyself.blogspot.com/2005/10/regrets-here-they-be.html

http://ibloggedmyself.blogspot.com/2005/10/regrets-why-they-aint-really.html

http://ibloggedmyself.blogspot.com/2006/05/six-things-i-hate-about-me.html

I ain't no doctor, but I know that everyone who takes the drug seems to experience different side effects in different ways and to different levels (either in the extreme or in quite a minor way). I've heard of Roaccutane takers having little or no side effects, but (in MY day, at least - which was 1991 to 1993) the majority seemed to have quite strong responses to the drug.

Personally, my experience was shockingly bad - and as my blog states, I had severely cracked and sore lips (they looked like a leper's lips, continually peeling and with broken skin sticking off them at all times), daily nose bleeds (sometimes two or three a day and generally long-lasting when they came), an extra sensitivity to sunlight (which continues to this day), and premature baldness (this set in about six years later, when I was at uni, and refers to 'crows feet' and a bald patch on the back of my head - the normal spots for baldness to set in, but generally not when you're 25). Thankfully it's 'popular' these days to shave your head, so this isn't as bad as it might have been twenty years ago (although sometimes I think it'd be nice to have a full head of hair again!).

However, I had really bad cystic acne, which presented as large welts of pus and blood. They were very painful, and about the size of an Australian fifty-cent piece. I'm not sure what part of the world you're from, so if that description is lost on you, I'm talking about welts that were 4cm or 1.5 inches in diameter. They were all over my back, chest, and the back of my neck (up into my hairline at the back of my head). They were extremely painful and would pop (oozing and aching) at random times or when my clothing or another person brushed or pushed against them too hard.

So when you look at it like that, I certainly NEEDED to take Roaccutane. The pock-marks I have on my skin (my shoulder blades, chest and the back of my neck in particular) from where these cysts were popped and left permanent craters on me are testiment to the fact that I had a really shocking case of acne as a teenager, so I know that if I HADN'T taken Roaccutane (as humiliating, ostracising and degrading as the side effects were), my appearance now would be much worse than it is.

I guess what I'm saying is it depends on how bad your acne is. If it's really bad and bothers you, you don't want it to stick around for life (or even just for a few years, where it'll continue to ravage your face and chest - as it sounds like it's already been doing). And the side effects might not be too bad for you. Also, I presume that in the 14 years since I stopped taking the stuff, presumably it has been improved upon by the makers of the product.

Bear the 'horror stories' in mind, certainly - but weigh it up against your feelings concerning the acne.

And above all else, remember that your appearance (whether the temporary one while you're on the stuff, or your permanent one after you finish taking it) is only skin-deep. It doesn't have to determine who you are or anything.

It took me a few years to work that out, so my strongest recommendation to you would be to surround yourself with people who love you no matter WHAT you look like, and when the self-doubt moments come, make sure you listen to them saying it doesn't matter and you'll get through it, etc.

It was the 'shame' that got to me the most - and I shouldn't have let it.

Anyway, I don't want to influence your decision either way, but whatever you choose to do, just try to be happy with yourself as a whole person ... and not just as the external 'shell' others see on the outside.

I hope I was of some help / comfort / encouragement / something! :)

Cheers,

BEVIS




Thank you so much for your reply. I believe you had a more severe case than i do, i have maybe 20 welts on my chest and it still just makes me very self conscience. I actually went to the tanning bed the other day and it actually cleared it up. I don't live near a beach or anything like that, I'm actually from Tennessee. I think i am going to continue to go to the tanning bed and soak in some more rays and hopefully get it all cleared up before I go on Spring Break. I don't know if I am willing to take the risk of using roaccutane and face the side-effects. Thanks again BEVIS!!

< INSERT NAME HERE >


.

May The Sauce Be In Aisle Three

This is hilarious. It's probably old news now, but it's somehow escaped my attention until Colls Bolls let me know about it on the weekend.

The saga of Chad Vader, younger and less-impressive brother to Darth Vader.

Episode 1

Episode 2

Episode 3

Episode 4

Episode 5 (Holiday Special)

Episode 6

A seventh and an eighth episode are both currently in the works, so if you like what you've seen here, be sure to check back at YouTube later for more!

In the meantime, here's an extra treat:

Chad Vader's New Year's Message


.

I'll Have The Big Breakfast, Please

A woman I work with told me yesterday that her 17 year-old son is currently going through a bit of a growth spurt. Actually, he's been going through it for about two years now, and she's hoping he'll grow out of it soon. It's sending her shopping budget through the roof.

Each morning for breakfast, he has 14 Weet-Bix and a litre of soy milk.

Yes, you read that correctly.

And then, after a full day at school, eating a normal amount of food and playing sport, he comes home and eats a packet of crumpets for afternoon tea (which is either six or eight of the things, depending on the brand), and then a huge dinner as well.

She also has a teenage daughter and a son who's just reaching puberty now. I fear for her when the second son starts to develop a massive appetite like his brother. Hopefully for her she'll only have one of them eating like that at a time. Imagine if they were both eating that much! That'd be 14 litres of milk a week just for her two sons and ONLY FOR BREAKFAST!

Is this what I have to look forward to when Sweetums reaches puberty? I'd better start saving for it now ...


.

It's Common Sense, Actually

In the past two weeks of Ms Fits' Friday Q&A, and in the comments to my previous post, there STILL seems to be some confusion (or in at least one case, rebellion) as to how to correctly pronounce and think-pronounce my Blogger moniker, "BEVIS".

So in the interests of NOT PISSING ME OFF (remember, I really hate being called Beavis, and I'm not joking), allow me to take a moment to break it down for you and show you how strange and bizarre your misconception actually is.


-------------------------

The word "BEVIS" is pronounced "Beh-viss". If that's not how you already thought it should be pronounced, then the word you're thinking of is spelt "Beavis".

Mine is actually the logical pronunciation; I'm amazed at how many people think it should be pronounced "Beavis". Look at these words for comparison:

Bevy of beauties
Beverage
Beverly
Tax levy
I drove my Chevy to the levy, but the levy was dry
Crevice

None of those words are pronouced as if they have an A before the V. Whereas:

Beaver
Heave
Leave
Weave

Remember the basic primary school rule? "An E on the end makes the vowel in the middle say its name." That's why "heave", "leave" and "weave" all require the EA to sound like you're saying the letter E by its name. However, "BEVIS" has no E on the end for the same rule to apply; therefore making the E in "BEVIS" to be pronounced "eh".

Therefore I repeat: Anyone who thinks "BEVIS" should be pronounced as "Beavis" will henceforth be referred to as "Butt-Head".

It's quite simple, really - so get it right, people. DON'T MAKE ME COME OVER THERE, etc.

(But I still love youse all.)


.