Volume 2, Issue 2 May 1996 _____________________ | ------------------- | Conceived, created, and birthed by: || || Francesca Parker || UTOPIA || (flparker@midway.uchicago.edu) || || Kari Bauer || PARKWAY[tm] || (klbauer@midway.uchicago.edu) || || Kate Pickering | ------------------- | (kate@snafu.mit.edu) --------------------- | | | | Contents: | | | | | | | | o Despots' Log . . . . o Roadtrip: Klompen . . . . Through the Tulips o "Word" is a 4-Letter Word Violators of o Sorbet: Tulipomania Copyright Laws in Every Nation o *NEW*: Goosie and and State Your Astral Plane o Diner: Listen to Your Auntie Ruthie * THE PEOPLE YOUR MOTHER DIDN'T BOTHER TO WARN YOU ABOUT * Copyright (c) 1995 by Kari Bauer, Francesca Parker and Katherine M. Pickering Redistribution of this work for profit is reserved to the authors. Redistribution by portable media (CD-ROM, floppy, paper, etc.) is expressly forbidden. Any redistribution must include this copyright notice intact. ------UP--------------------------------------------------------------- DESPOTS' LOG VOLUME 2 ISSUE 2 Dearest Folks and Flamboyant Forms of Flowers and Foundry Workers, It's summer! Most of you are home(*)! We're still in school! It's cold and rainy even though it's May! (*) applicable mainly to those who spend a good part of the year away from home, for example at college; obviously if you're always at home, this is hardly front-page news. However, we are in good spirits, yes we are, because we've finally put out an issue we've been meaning to do for a year: Tulip Time Exposed. You see, Kate Pickering hails from the small and twisted town of Holland, Michigan (that's Kate as in the third of the three names below, and Pickering as in kmpicker, yes indeedy), which means only one thing. Namely, we have the inside track on the insidious yearly celebration of Dutch heritage and ritual worship of the tulip, otherwise known as Tulip Time. I know it sounds scary. Just goes to show the kind of danger we'll face for y'all. We hope you're happy. Our collective knee got scraped. So, now that you've been informed, we're sure you'll recognize the below assortment of tulip-bashing, not as a series of unimaginative tirades, but as an example of the ridiculous made ludicrous by excess...because that's exactly the effect we wanted, yup yup yup. Some random house-keeping-type business: * Come Visit the Talker - the full information is availible in the last issue, but for those of you who are scratching their heads *at this moment*, the talker is a real-time virtual hang-out based on Utopia Parkway, written by a friend of ours. It's a lot of fun, it's super easy to pick up, and it's an especially keen place to meet other UP subscribers and/or talk about those interests that seem to permeate our subscribership - TMBG, for example, or MST3K....or KiTH .....or Jell-O...(the list goes on - it's terrifying). It's also Easy To Get To! Figure out how to telnet on your system, and telnet to blacktape.cs.uchicago.edu 3000 (if you need more detailed instructions, you could write and ask us for the last issue) * Some of you have been writing in to ask when this alleged sell-out is going to take place... Well. We're not entirely sure. Things have taken much longer than any of us thought (on either side of the contract) due to Much Business (which is an official term by the way - hey, we're proffessionals, here). We'll keep you posted. And, at any rate, they have promised us that the Official Utopia Parkway merchandise [tm] (including tee-shirts, coffee mugs, key chains and jell-o molds - availible personalized at a small extra cost) and complimentary beverages will be availible post haste. In related news (related especially to that part way back there at the beginning about most of you being away from college at this juncture, remember, huh, remember, huh huh?), given the fact that many of you don't have internet connections over the summer (see parentheses last), and given also the fact that it's difficult to put UP out from three different locations, we've decided to let the issue-output drop off a bit during this summer - most likely to every other month or so. Just thought we ought to warn you so you wouldn't run screaming and insane into the street when the interim periods seemed especially long (and the night has been too lonely, and you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong, etc. etc...). Fear not, gentle soldier. We'll be back. ummmmmm....okay.........maybe that's all now....WAKE UP!! THE ISSUE'S ABOUT TO START!!! with much ado about nothing, Franny, Kari & Kate ------UP--------------------------------------------------------------- Roadtrip * In Holland, No One Can Hear You Scream * It's been awhile since we had roadtrip notes...heck, it's been awhile since we went on a roadtrip (feel free to mutter "stupid education stupid education" with us in empathy). Well, Tulip Time was just an event we had to see ourselves. Friday, May 10 10:08 pm Enter Holland, Michigan, tulip capital of America, land of Rush Limbaugh, the annual site of Tulip Time, that cornucopia of Dutch-heritage celebration. 10:09 We pass the Jeep factory Kate spent last summer bruising herself at (and which did a mighty fine job of sucking her will to live, it might be added). 10:19 Turn at the teal and coral house on the corner 10:20 The home o' Kate appears on the horizon. 10:24 --> Unaccounted for time. James Bond was involved. It may very well have been sometime later that evening that the two bodies were buri...ooouuu...that was something else. Saturday, May 11 8:20am The blue Dodge Shadow leaves Pickering base (heinously early - these people can't be civilized) 8:22 Kari hands the driving cap off to Kate 8:27 On step number 2 of the All the Places Kate Has Ever Worked, we pass the McDonald's. 8:34 Hope. They say it's a college. Who'd'a thunk. 8:36 George Bush walked here. 8:37 A Taste of Holland historical breakfast. Seemed a little bit like every other buffet we've ever been too - only with a slide show and some mighty fine gouda. 9:00 Voice-over informs us that Native Americans had been in Michigan "for some time" before settlers arrived. (They were, however, commemorated with a small wood. What considerate ravishers we are.) 9:45 So spake one UP-er to the others "What's fun?" (quickly giving away her UofC roots) "You're here to learn." was the reply. "I don't think Reverend Van Raalte would approve." commented the astute learner of Holland-culture. 9:50 We have now seen enough evidence to feel safe claiming that, in Holland, scary sculpture competes with scary plant life. 9:54 Pass the Cappon House Museum, site number 3 on Kate's Tour of Former Employments. 9:55 Scorn site number 4 on the Pickering Worthless Job Tour - Windmill Island - in favor of its rival... 10:00 Dutch Village Queen's Inn Welcomes the Band Organ Rally 12:40 "A little church! Let's subvert it!" "I can't believe this is a *real* church. There's a big Jesus inside!" 12:50 Feed the animals. Kari has goat spit all over her hands. She is not happy. 1:04 Kari is not a witch. 1:35 "When the tulips is done blooming, they kick the heads off and throw the heads away." --rather severe tour guide 1:47 Let the Klompen Dancing begin! 1:48 Klomp Klomp Klomp Waltz Klomp Klomp Step Brush Klomp Bump 2:02 Klompen Dancing ends 2:03 Aspirin 2:08 Escape From Dutch Village!!!! 2:14 The Employers Who Took Kate For Granted Tour winds up at the Holland Public Museum. 2:15 Round off the day with Fat Balls downtown. For graphic evidence of the horrors depicted herein, see http://student-www.uchicago.edu/users/kmpicker/main.html If you'd like to attend next year's Tulip Time, more information is available at: 1-800-822-2770, 1-616-396-4221, or http://www.tuliptime.org/. ------UP--------------------------------------------------------------- Fetish * Ijik Bjeinj Wjjaarijds Djaas Sjpiikken * Yes, this is the second "ain't language wonderful and strange" feature in two months, but don't go thinking we're obsessed. I mean, we can stop anytime we want...we only do it because we *want* to, man - get off our backs -- We Don't Have A Problem! Anywho, this month's trip..er..hit..er..*list* (that's it, "list") involves the phenomenon of Foreign Languages That Sound Suspiciously Like Your Own, Only With A Funny Accent. [the mgmt. in no way intends to imply by this that the world is having some great joke at your expense because really this whole story about there being more than one language is an enormous farce designed exclusively to make you look like a jerk. So please, don't get uncomfortable. No one's laughing at you. Of *course* the world's *full* of different languages. -ed.] Dutch in 11 easy steps: (and we're not putting you on, here - these are absolutely correct, as any Berlitz Travel Guide will be happy to verify for you.) Goedemorgen Good morning Dit is Mijnheer... This is Mr... Hoe gaat het? How goes it? Heel goed, dank U Very well, thank you. Spreekt U Engels? Do you speak English. (now, this one may be considered a False Friend. One might be first tempted to translate it something like: "Have you spoken with Engels?" The polite answer is, of course, "Nee.") Brengt U me... Bring me... Ik heb honger I'm hungry Waar is de bus naar het centrum? Where is the bus to the center of town? Is er post voor mij? Is there any mail for me? De centrale verwarming werkt niet. The central heating doesn't work. [a personal favorite of ours, and quite handy -ed.] Mijn naam is Frutbajt My name is Gretel Of course, Dutch also has a certain tendency toward the onomatopoetic. For example, the word for wooden shoes is "klompen," after the sound they make. And the name for a traditional crackly pastry is "Krakelingen"(see the Diner for a nummalicious recipe). Then again, there's "alstublieft" which means please, but sounds an awful lot like a sneeze. [Gesjuintijjght. -ed.] ------UP--------------------------------------------------------------- Sorbet From _Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds_ by Charles Mackay, LL.D., 1852 "The tulip - so named, it is said, from a Turkish word, signifying a turban - was introduced into Western Europe about the middle of the sixteenth century. Conrad Gesner, who claims the merit of having brought it into repute, - little dreaming of the commotion it was shortly afterwards to make in the world, - says that he first saw it in the year 1559, in a garden at Augsberg, belonging to the learned Counsellor Herwart, a man very famous in his day for his collection of rare exotics. The bulbs were sent to this gentleman by a friend at Constantinople [NOT Istanbul! -ed.] where the flower had long been a favourite. In the course of ten or eleven years after this period, tulips were much sought after by the wealthy, especially in Holland and Germany. Rich people at Amsterdam sent for the bulbs direct to Constantinople, and paid the most extravagant prices for them. One would suppose that there must have been some great virtue in this flower to have made it so valuable in the eyes of so prudent a people as the Dutch; but it has neither the beauty nor the perfume of the rose - hardly the beauty of the "sweet, sweet-pea;" neither is it as enduring as either [enduring?! -ed.]. Cowley, it is true, is loud in its praise. He says - 'The tulip next appeared, all over gay, But wanton, full of pride, and full of play; The world can't show a dye but here has place; Nay, by new mixtures, she can change her face; Purple and gold are both beneath her care, The richest needlework she loves to wear; Her only study is to please the eye, And to outshine the rest in finery.' This, though not very poetical, is the description of a poet. Beckmann, in his _History of Inventions_, [is the tulip an invention?? -ed.] paints it with more fidelity, and in prose more pleasing than Cowley's poetry [go Chuck! -ed.]. He says, 'There are few plants which acquire, through accident, weakness, or disease, so many variegations as the tulip. When uncultivated, and in its natural state, it is almost of one colour, has large leaves, and an extraordinary long stem. When it has been weakened by cultivation, it becomes more agreeable in the eyes of the florist [damn the florist! -ed.]. The petals are then paler, smaller, and more diversified in hue; and the leaves acquire a softer green colour. Thus this masterpiece of culture, the more beautiful it turns, grows so much more the weaker, so that, with the greatest skill and most careful attention, it can scarcely be transplanted, or even kept alive.'["master, I have the tulips you requested..." -ed.] Munting, an industrious author of the day, who wrote a folio volume of one thousand pages upon tulipomania [! -ed.], has preserved the following list of the various articles, and their value, which were delivered for one single root of the rare species called the 'Viceroy': florins 2 lasts of wheat 448 4 lasts of rye 558 4 fat oxen 480 8 fat swine 240 12 fat sheep 120 [why are sheep so cheap? -ed.] [and hey - ewe's not fat, ewe's just fluffy! -ed.] 2 Hogsheads of wine 70 [ewwwww...(or ewe?).. -ed.] 4 tuns of beer 32 2 tuns of butter 192 1 thousand lbs. of cheese 120 [picture that for a moment. -ed.] A complete bed 100 A suit of clothes 80 A silver drinking cup 60 --- 2500 There is an amusing instance of the kind related in Blainville's _Travels_ [ha ha. -ed.]. A wealthy merchant, who prided himself not a little on his rare tulips, received upon one occasion a very valuable consignment of merchandise from the Levant. Intelligence of its arrival was brought him by a sailor, who presented himself for that purpose at the couting-house, among bales of goods of every description. The merchant, to reward him for his news, munificently made him a present of a fine red herring for his breakfast [they were indeed tasty -ed.]. The sailor had, it appears, a great partiality for onions, and seeing a bulb very like an onion lying upon the counter of this liberal trader, and thinking it, no doubt, very much out of its place among the silks and velvets, he slily seized an opportunity and slipped it into his pocket, as a relish for his herring. He got clear off with his prize, and proceeded to the quay to eat his breakfast. Hardly was his back turned when the merchant missed his valuable 'Semper augustus,' worth three thousand florins, or about 280 l. sterling. The whole establishment was instantly in an uproar; search was everwhere made for this precious root, but it was not to be found. Great was the merchant's distress of mind [great was the sailor's distress of stomach -ed.]. The search was renewed, but again without success. At last someone thought of the sailor. The unhappy merchant sprang into the street at the bare suggestion. His alarmed household followed him. The sailor, simple soul! [ha ha -ed.] had not thought of concealment. He was found quietly sitting on a coil of ropes, masticating the last morsel of his 'onion'. Little did he dream that he had been eating a breakfast whose cost might have regaled a whole ship's crew for a twelvemonth; or, as the plundered merchant himself expressed it, 'might have sumptuously feasted the Prince of Orange and the whole court of the Stadtholder.' Anthony caused pearls to be dissolved in wine to drink the health of Cleopatra; Sir Richard Whittington was as foolishly magnificent in an entertainment to King Henry V; and Sir Thomas Gresham drank a diamond dissolved in wine to the health of Queen Elizabeth, when she opened the Royal Exchange; but the breakfast of this roguish Dutchman was a splendid as either. He had an advantage, too, over his wasteful predecessors: *their* gems did not improve the taste or the wholesomeness of *their* wine, while *his* tulip was quite delicious with his red herring. The most unfortunate part of the business for him was, that he remained in prison for some months on a charge of felony preferred against him by the merchant." [yikes. -ed.] ------UP--------------------------------------------------------------- Horoscope by Goosie * Karmically Correct Advice for the Modern Reader * Lest you fear spiritual atrophy due to Miss Utopia Parkway's absence, fear not. We'd never make you travel your weary way without a few guideposts. To that end, we've enlisted the services of the radiant and melifluous Swamii Goosie. A toast to the cosmic cup! * * * * * If Today Is Your Birthday: This year you are no less than the love child of the Dalai Lama and Boutros Boutros-Gali. And yes, they have more in common than difficult-to-spell-names and an internal rhyme...and if you can figure that out, you're well on your way to transformational enlightenment. Throw in a Hershey bar, and the bus driver may let you off right on your corner. CAPRICORN (December 21st to January 20th): Okay, maybe your shirt came back from the dry-cleaners in exactly your dog's size; maybe the mystery meat was a little more iridescent than usual; maybe the neighbor's kid's firetruck and your right foot seem to have some more-than-earthly bond - that doesn't mean that all is lost. Your dog's looking spiffy, you got some extra sparkle in your day, and you were reminded of the innocent joy of youth. Keep the kaleidoscope turning at an even speed and you'll be fine. ARIES (March 21st to April 20th): This is the month you find out exactly why oil and water don't mix - and it's not the reason they taught you in high school chem. Still, you never know when kissing up to the teacher might help, and there is such a thing as spiritual extra credit. So, at the risk of getting a little dusty, I'd like to suggest you stay after class and offer to clean the erasers. SCORPIO (October 21st to November 20th): If you should be challenged in a game of Pictionary this month, hurry to the arena - every one of your pictures will be entirely intellegible (unless, of course, some sublimation of Miro I've failed to predict is going on). What does it all mean? Well, that rather depends on what the pictures turn out to be, doesn't it? More to the point, don't claim your scraps of scribble are high art and try to sell them to your teamates after the game. GEMINI (May 21st to June 20th): Love is in the air, but it'll take some hard work to figure out exactly what kind...and with whom. In all confidentiality, when this column went to press, the love itself hadn't quite decided. But don't be discouraged - any hesitation could send the little bugger scurrying back into hiding, and we don't want to give it an excuse. When you need to know, you'll know. Sudden clarity is like that. TAURUS (April 21st to May 20th): Don't go taking any song written in the 70's seriously this month, y'hear? You may find yourself somewhat predisposed to do so, and I'd like to warn you off the temptation immediately. For the first, and perhaps last time, you're about to find yourself advised to reach for the Ben & Jerry's and a spoon as a more effective solution to your concerns. PISCES (February 21st to March 20th): If your year were a car-wash, this month you're heading through those big wiggly-squishy-stripy-sponge-things. Discombobulating? Yes. But - and this needs to be emphasized - softer than the huge blue roller-dryer things, and squeeky clean. If you can avoid getting creeped out by the squishy part of the game, you'll be one step ahead of the pack. Just don't get so excited by the success that you roll your windows down to howl your joy to the attendant. AQUARIUS (January 21st to February 20th): Don't open your Christmas presents too early this month. Great Aunt Putrice will know that those are her socks you've sent out in the missile launcher. What it *isn't* too early to start doing is thinking of excuses. You may have to do this regressively, i.e. starting with that vase you broke when you were only 6, and moving on up to your most recent regrets. LEO (July 21st to August 20th): Aspirin is about to be handed to you on a silver platter. Now I hope you recognize the mixed nature of this blessing. Yes, relief is on the way in the form of luxuriant help, but if you don't reassess your own behavior a little bit, in 4-6 hours you'll be back where you started. Find a dark room to sneak off to, and you can keep the silver platter for yourself. VIRGO (August 21st to September 20th): All of your socks are matched up this month, aren't they? Go take a look. I'll wait. Now, admit it - all of your socks are matched up. Now, I wouldn't want to chide you for being obsessively organied as of late, but I will scold you for making the sock-monster in the dryer go without his dinner. Or in other words, just make sure you remember what's important in life while you're alphabetizing your soups. SAGITTARIUS (November 21th to December 20th): You are a house-guest of the Universe this month. There's a bed turned down upstairs, and a set of green towels on the sink. She's going to do everything she can to make you comfortable during your stay, which means, just ask and it's yours. Pot roast for dinner, Jeopardy and a foot rub afterward, and hot milk before bed. You could probably get away with any sort of behavior. But remember: pain-in-the-neck guests don't always get asked back. CANCER (June 21st to July 20th): A few simple rules of thumb should be all you need to keep you going this month: glass and water don't mix. You can't teach a tabby cat to make the toaster drink. Oxygen is not the only fruit. You're going to have to create your own collection, but once you have, you're good to go. While you're at it, do a little teaching this month. It's hardly fair not to share your intimate knowledge of the universe. LIBRA (September 21st to October 20th): Static cling got you down? Not enough Ram in your Ram-a-lama-ding-dong? Frustrated by nagging mildew? Walk calmly to your book-shelf, pull off the first book you find and go read it. Afterwards, ask a stranger to the movies with you. Treat him to potato soup. When you get home, the cling will have clung its course. ------UP--------------------------------------------------------------- UP Diner * Sjnap, Krakelingen and Poop * Krakelingen ___________ This recipe for A Delicious, Traditional Crackly Pastry Treat [tm] is literally handed down from Kate's Aunt Ruth, so the details are sketchy. Also, it's really a recipe for Banket - a Dutch almond loaf, because krakelingen was originally made from the leftover crust of said loaf. Warning: this makes a lot. Dutch families are large. Dutch people, in general, are large. 1 lb. Imperial margerine (Yes, my Aunt Ruth says it *must* be Imperial. This may or may not be true. But it *is* true that if you use butter instead of margerine for this part, it won't come out.) 4 cups flour 1/2 teas. salt 3/4 cup water sugar butter Mix the ingredients as you would for a pie crust. Don't know how to make pie crust? I didn't either. Auntie Ruth said that means put everything but the water together first, then add the water very very slowly in small amounts to small amounts of the batter. This is because you want to use as little total water as possible, so you want to keep it from all landing in the same spot. (Auntie Ruth says you can go ahead right here, but it's really best if you let the dough sit in the fridge over night. Just make sure it's in an evenly distributed lump, so you can chop off 1/3 chunks tomorrow.) Next, roll the dough out about 1/3 (or 1/6 if that's too much to handle) at a time. Roll it and brush with butter (real butter), 3 times (this is what makes it all crumbly on top). Sprinkle some sugar on there. End up by rolling it into a long rectangle, then slice off, um, long slices. Roll them into figure-8s. Sprinkle more sugar. This is the only thing making it sweet, so be liberal. Come to think of it, be liberal anyway (and no, that last part most definitely did not come from my Auntie Ruth). Bake at approx. 350 degrees for maybe 15ish minutes. (This is a family recipe, no fair expecting solid details.) Olie Bolen ___________ This is essentially just adding raisins and chopped apple to any doughnut-hole recipe. But the name's fun to say, isn't it? Huh, huh, isn't it? Isn't it? Huh? 3 eggs 1/2 cup sugar 1/2 cup light corn sirup [sic] 4 1/2 cups flour 5 teas. baking powder 1 teas. salt 1 teas. nutmeg 3 tablespoons melted shortening or salad oil 1/2 cup milk apples - chopped into small pieces raisins Beat the egg yolks until thick. Add the sugar gradually and then the corn sirup [sic]. Sift the flour with baking powder, salt and nutmeg. Mix the shortening or oil with the milk and stir into the egg and sugar mixture. Add all but 1/4 cup of the dry ingredients. Stir just enough to blend well; do not beat. Fold in the stiffly beaten egg whites and the remaining dry ingredients. Add raisins and apples. Pat part of the dough out gently on a floured board to 1/2-inch thickness and cut with a small cutter, 1 1/4 inches in diameter. Fry at once in hot deep fat at about 370-degrees until golden. They will turn by themselves as they fry. Drain on paper toweling. Yield: 4 dozen. This treat goes nicely with a small glass of Pepto Bismol. As does all of Tulip Time. ------UP--------------------------------------------------------------- Sponsor This month, Utopia Parkway is pleased and proud to have as its sponsor a distinctly dignified institution. * The Borculo Dandelion Festival * v \ | / >- o -< v / | \ v \ | / ^ \ | / >- o -< >- o -< / | \ v / | \ ^ \ | / ^ >- o -< / | \ ^ [in order for you to fully appreciate this, we probably ought to explain. The Borculo Dandelion Festival is a festival in celebration of dandelions, put on every year by the neighboring town of Borculo, in direct competition with Tulip Time. Don't second-guess yourself about how serious the people who founded it were. We would suggest you actually ingest one of our Diner recipes before we'd suggest you take this event at face value. So you *know* it's bad. ;) -ed.] ------UP---------------------------Y'all drive safe now, ya hear?------