YOUR CALL IS IMPORTANT TO US.

THANK YOU FOR calling the 911 Emergency Services Hotline. All our operators are busy at the moment, but your call is very important to us. Please stay on the line and your call will be answered in the order in which it was received.

Did you know that the 911 Emergency Services Hotline is now a county-wide service? All our operations have been streamlined for maximum efficiency to better serve you, our customers. Your county government cares about you.

All our operators are still busy at the moment, but your call is very important to us. Please stay on the line and your call will be answered in the order in which it was received.

The Yohogania County 911 Emergency Services Hotline utilizes the latest in emergency-response telephony to improve your 911 service experience. Your tax dollars have been wisely invested in the most modern computerized switching and call-transfer equipment. Your county government works hard to make the best use of the money you entrust to us.

All our operators are still busy at the moment, but your call is very important to us. Please stay on the line and your call will be answered in the order in which it was received.

On-hold music for the 911 Emergency Services Hotline has been provided for your listening pleasure by Acoustic Relaxations, Inc., a Yohogania-County-based service providing fine unchallenging solo guitar music for background purposes to businesses and institutions for over fifteen years. Your county government supports the arts.

All our operators are still busy at the moment, but your call is very important to us. Please stay on the line and your call will be answered in the order in which it was received.

Your Yohogania County 911 Emergency Services Hotline is supported in part by a grant from FEMA, the Federal Emergency Medley Administration, which promulgates standards for on-hold music for emergency hotlines nationwide. You may be assured that the on-hold music you are enjoying right now meets the strictest federal standards.

Due to unforeseen circumstances, the 911 Emergency Services Hotline is experiencing a heavier-than-normal call volume at this time. Please hang up now and call back at a less congested time. We apologize for any inconvenience. Thank you.

POST THIS NOTICE.

UNDER THE PROVISIONS of the Odd Behavior Act of 2009, this notice must be prominently posted in every place where public business is transacted. As a free public service, Dr. Boli has provided a copy for you to download and print. Post it now, before the Behavioral Inspections Bureau pays a visit.

Click on the image to download this poster in PDF form.

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CAPTAIN PLEONASM FACES THE FUTURE.

[In honor of the second anniversary of his Celebrated Magazine on the World-Wide Web, Dr. Boli is reprinting a number of his own favorite articles from the past two years.]

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Although no recordings of the old Captain Pleonasm radio serial have survived, a number of the original scripts were recently unearthed in the archives of the Northern Broadcasting Company.

ANNOUNCER. Malt-O-Cod, the delicious and nutritious malt food drink flavored with real cod-liver oil, presents…

(Music: Theme, up and under for…)

ANNOUNCER. The Thrilling and Exciting Adventures of Captain Pleonasm and His Faithful and Trustworthy Sidekick and Assistant, Interjection Boy! Now featuring the Malt-O-Cod Orchestra and Chorus, directed by Paul Hindemith.

(Music: In full.)

CHORUS. Don’t throw a fit or have a spasm:
It’s time for Captain Pleonasm!
He battles evil, and, forsooth,
He fights for justice and for truth!
He hates the bad and loves the good,
As self-respecting heroes should.
He conquers villains strange and odd,
And saves the world for Malt-O-Cod!

(Music: Fade.)

ANNOUNCER. As you recall, in last week’s episode, Captain Pleonasm and Interjection Boy found themselves facing a strange new villain.

INTERJECTON BOY. Oscillatin’ ocelots, Captain Pleonasm! It’s just a crumbly old man in a funny costume!

(Music: stinger.)

LIEUT. COL. PLEONASM (aged voice). Is that so, Interjection Boy? Is that what you think of me now? Well, Captain Pleonasm, perhaps you will disregard and ignore Interjection Boy’s intemperate and ill-considered remarks. Perhaps you will pay no attention to him at all when you discover the truth of who I am. Perhaps you will set aside the boy’s incontinent logorrhea and—

INTERJECTION BOY. Marry come up, Captain Pleonasm! He talks just like you!

CAPT. PLEONASM. Indeed he does, Interjection Boy! He speaks with the same carefully constructed and balanced rhetorical exactitude which I have always cultivated. His periods move with the same impeccable rhythm that it has always been my studious endeavor to maintain. Could it be, sir—could it be that you are my long-lost father?

LIEUT. COL. PLEONASM. No, you idiot! Mercy, I forgot how dim I used to be. Can it be that I was ever such a moron? You know perfectly well your father is alive and well in Tarpon Springs. The only reason you’ve “lost” him is because Interjection Boy set fire to your address book when he was playing with your Inferno Ray.

INTERJECTION BOY. Red-hot yams, Captain Pleonasm! How does he know about that? You promised not to tell anybody!

CAPT. PLEONASM. Then who, sir, are you? What is your name, and whence do you come?

LIEUT. COL. PLEONASM. I’m you, you lackwit fool!

(Music: stinger.)

LIEUT. COL. PLEONASM. My name is Lieutenant Colonel Pleonasm, and I am you from the future. I have come back here thanks to the recent commercial availability of inexpensive and reliable time machines.

INTERJECTION BOY. Holy persimmons!

CAPT. PLEONASM. Then you are I, and I am yourself! We are identical, though different in age. Separated in time, we are yet united in identity.

LIEUT. COL. PLEONASM. I knew you were going to say that.

CAPT. PLEONASM. Then can it be that you have come back to aid me in my darkest hour? Is there some diabolical plot afoot, so fearful in its complexity, so awesome in its power, that only the two of us working together, with your superior future technology, can defeat it? Have you come to offer me the benefit of my own future cooperation?

LIEUT. COL. PLEONASM. No, you ignorant booby! I’ve come back to destroy you. I’ve returned to wipe you clean from the pages of history.

INTERJECTION BOY. But, jodhpurs, Lieutenant Colonel Pleonasm! Why?

LIEUT. COL. PLEONASM. Because I’ve turned evil in my old age! Forsaking the good, I have found far more profit and satisfaction in villainy! Yet the world would be a much more secure place for villainy had my former self not dedicated his life to making the world safe for good.

INTERJECTION BOY. But, gallopin’ gnus, Lieutenant Colonel Pleonasm! Does this mean I turned evil in the future, too?

LIEUT. COL. PLEONASM. No, you opened a Peugeot dealership on Baum Boulevard. I have no quarrel with you. My quarrel is only with myself. If I destroy my former good self now, all his works for good will never have happened!

(Music: Stinger.)

ANNOUNCER. Is this the end for Captain Pleonasm? Will his future destroy his present? Will his present destroy his future? Will his future, by destroying his present, destroy his future as well? Will Interjection Boy be able to make a living selling unreliable French cars to American drivers? Don’t miss next week’s enthralling and riveting episode of the Thrilling and Exciting Adventures of Captain Pleonasm and His Faithful and Trustworthy Sidekick and Assistant, Interjection Boy!

(Music: Theme, in full and under for…)

ANNOUNCER. When Captain Pleonasm wakes up in the morning, what’s the first thing he asks for? It’s Malt-O-Cod, the only malt beverage flavored with 100% real cod-liver oil. Kids, ask your moms for Malt-O-Cod, now with an official Captain Pleonasm demitasse spoon in every package. It’s the malt food drink that’s brain food—Malt-O-Cod.

(Music: In full, then out.)

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USEFUL ENGLISH PHRASES FOR VISITORS FROM FOREIGN LANDS.

No. 1.—At the Entropist’s Shop.

[In honor of the second anniversary of his Celebrated Magazine on the World-Wide Web, Dr. Boli is reprinting a number of his own favorite articles from the past two years.]

Good morning.
Good afternoon.
Good evening.

May I help you?

I should like to see your entropy.

Is your entropy fresh today?

Yes, our entropy is always fresh.
We have only frozen entropy today.
We are out of fresh entropy, but we have some in cans.
Our entropy has all fallen apart.

May I smell your entropy?

This entropy smells good.
This entropy smells stale.
My nose is clogged, and I cannot smell a thing.

What varieties of entropy have you?

We have good Dutch entropy,
entropy of Assam,
entropy of Provence,
and entropy of Anhui.
We have only one variety of entropy, because we do not like entropy very much.

In what quantities and at what prices do you sell your entropy?

We sell our entropy by the pound,
by the ounce,
by the kilogram.

Our prices are posted on the sign over the counter.
Our prices are marked on the bins.
Our prices are classified.
Our prices are negotiable.
We give away our entropy for free, because our business is falling apart.

I should like to purchase half a pound of entropy of Assam.

I shall need to see your identification.
I shall need to run a criminal background check.

Do you accept credit cards?
Do you accept gold ingots?

We accept all common forms of payment.
We can accept payment only in beaver pelts.

Would you like a bag for your entropy?

I would if it can be properly sealed.

Will the entropy leak and damage my automobile?

It will not leak, as this bag is properly sealed.
It probably will leak.
We are not responsible for entropic damage to automobiles.

Thank you for your prompt and courteous service.

Thank you, and please come again.
Thank you, and please do not return.

THE BOY’S BOOK OF CRAFTS AND HANDY-WORKS.

No. 317.—A Brigantine.

[In honor of the second anniversary of his Celebrated Magazine on the World-Wide Web, Dr. Boli is reprinting a number of his own favorite articles from the past two years.]

NOT SO LONG ago by radiocarbon dating, my friend Ned and I spent a summer by Lake Erie. The constantly shifting aspects of water and shore stimulated our imaginations, and the knowledge that the very scenes before us had formed the setting against which the magnificent deeds of Commodore Perry were enacted, filled our youthful fancies with a desire to emulate his great feats of naval prowess. Indeed, so filled were we with youthful bravado that we imagined ourselves surpassing the great commander, and carving out a great northern empire around the great northern waters. For this purpose we required a brig similar to Commodore Perry’s Niagara.

It was clear to us that, unlike our simple dog-cart (No. 18) and our simple time-machine (No. 241), this was a project that would require a great deal of preparation and dedicated work. But that did not dampen our enthusiasm, for we reflected that we had the whole summer to accomplish our task, and we had never yet encountered an obstacle which we could not overcome by hard work and imagination.

First we needed a great quantity of wood. My uncle, with whom we were staying, had no such materials handy; but luckily his neighbors were away for the summer, and thus would not be needing their house.

For three weeks, Ned and I were up at sunrise every morning with our hammers and saws. We used the roof trusses to form the skeleton of our ship. Having no design or plans other than our memories of the Niagara and other ships we had seen, we naturally made many mistakes and had to do some of the work twice; but by the middle of July we had finished the construction. We had decided to rig our ship as a brigantine rather than a brig, mostly because we found the polysyllabic name more impressive. All that was left, then, was to add sails, for which we made use of our neighbors’ best linens, and to seal the hull against the intrusion of water. We recalled that Noah had sealed the Ark with bitumen, but the local hardware store had run out of bitumen, and was not expecting any more until October. We had come too far, however, to be inconvenienced by a minor setback; and it was Ned who hit on the idea of substituting chewing gum for bitumen. How our jaws ached when we had finished! But our efforts were not in vain: our ship was water-tight and ready to launch. In honor of our hero, we christened our brigantine the Commodore Perry.

Now all we needed was a crew. For this we decided to resort to the old English custom of impressment, which seemed to us the most effective method of assembling a large crew in a short time. We visited a number of disreputable saloons in the east end of town, and, bribing a few of the rowdiest characters there with strong liquor, soon assembled an efficient press gang which did the rest of our work for us. By the next morning we had a large though somewhat baffled crew, and were ready to set sail.

We armed our ship with cannons made from pickle barrels we had found in my uncle’s storeroom and set out on our first adventure, which we had determined should be the conquest of Canada. This we accomplished in short order, as it transpired that the Canadian Great Lakes fleet was disorganized and ill-prepared for an attack from the south. We set up a puppet government in Welland, which was close enough that we could sail home for dinner at my uncle’s house every night, and for a few weeks ruled as absolute dictators. All too soon, however, the autumn was upon us, and we had to go back to our homes and school, filled with the memories of a summer brimming with adventure.

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ADMIRAL HORNSWOGGLE’S NAUTICAL ADVENTURES.

[In honor of the second anniversary of his Celebrated Magazine on the World-Wide Web, Dr. Boli is reprinting a number of his own favorite articles from the past two years.]

No. 2.—Onward to the Pole.

IT SEEMS AS if it were but yesterday (though in fact it was last Thursday) that I returned from my successful expedition to the Pole and faced those sincere expressions of admiration, which, heartfelt though they were, caused me no little discomfort, my native modesty being of such a quality that even faint praise is a considerable embarrassment to me. Nevertheless, my innate candor and my strict regard for the truth, no matter how inconvenient it may be to myself, compel me to confess that the praises heaped upon me were not entirely undeserved.

For the purpose of our expedition, we had been assigned the Margaret Cavendish, a small but adequate surveying ship. She had begun life as a brigantine in the Royal Navy under the name Prosperity; later she was re-rigged as a brig and rechristened the Elephant Shrew; and then, after considerable refurbishment, she reappeared as a barque under the name Abstraction. Some years later, owing to a clerical error, she was re-rigged as an omnibus and rechristened the 53H Homestead-Duquesne Via Homeville. Eventually she was rebuilt as a frigate and assigned to our expedition.

The Margaret Cavendish was, as I have indicated before, rather small for a frigate, and the space for our equipment and supplies was limited. Under the circumstances, some of my junior officers objected when I insisted on including a company of caterers, with all the tools of their profession; but I assured them that, in the bleak and icy wastelands of the north, we should all be much cheered by a well-catered meal now and then.

We set northward in late June, and for the occasion of our departure our caterers had made up a memorable feast, at the center of which they placed a decorative ice sculpture of the Margaret Cavendish herself. In order to prepare us for our northward voyage, the food was made entirely of blubber of the various sorts we might be expected to encounter.

The first few weeks of the voyage were uneventful, other than my having to quell a slight mutiny when the crew discovered that our caterers had brought nothing but blubber for the entire voyage. Eventually, however, we reached the frozen limit of liquid sea. We were forced to leave the Margaret Cavendish behind with a skeleton crew of caterers and cover the remainder of the distance by dogsled. Since we had brought no dogs, I dressed four ensigns in shaggy raccoon coats and hitched them to the sled that carried our supplies; the rest of the crew and I followed on foot.

I shall not weary you with the details of our long trek to the Pole. Suffice it to say that, when we finally reached it, we were somewhat dismayed to find a small band of Esquimaux already using it to string up their laundry. However, we were able to bribe them with a few trinkets, and they allowed us to place His Majesty’s flag at the top, above three pairs of knickers and a small tablecloth.

We went back by the same route; but you may imagine our dismay when we returned to discover that the Margaret Cavendish was no more! Caught between the edge of the ice pack and a floating iceberg, she had been crushed to splinters. The few men we had left behind had only just managed to salvage their kitchen equipment, which they had employed in fabricating a large tent from the sails, and furnishing it with folding chairs and a banquet table made from the splintered wood of the ship.

At this point my crew were of the opinion that all was lost, and we should doubtless perish in this frozen wasteland. I, however, retained my customary optimism; and to it I added a quality which I have sometimes been flattered to hear called good sense. Looking out to sea, I spied another iceberg, and it put me in mind of the feast we had enjoyed on our first night out of port. Turning to the caterers, I explained my idea, and they set to work at once.

It took a good two days of concerted effort, but the skills of the caterers were up to the task; for after all it was, but for the scale, no different from what I had already seen them accomplish. At the end of that time, they had carved an exact replica of the Margaret Cavendish from the ice all around us. We loaded our equipment on the new ship and set sail once again. I need not tell you, what everyone already knows; viz., that our sturdy ice-frigate made it as far as the extreme northern coasts of our own country, and that from there we were swiftly conveyed to face popular acclaim in the capital.

From this voyage I learned an important lesson, which is that, no matter how long the journey or how inhospitable the country, one should never deny oneself the comforts of home. I shall be certain to insist on a company of caterers in all my future voyages.