A few of the UKRAinians who wrote to my mailbox have apparently been
lurking on RAT because they want to know what "pilites" is and how it
is pronounced.

Prononunciation: Pie-lie-tees. Say it quickly as pile-eye-tees and you
have the origin as well.

Origin: A Russian once screamed in my face that I was "a spiked ball in
the haemorrhoids of the bolshi cheroy," the big bosses, colonels and
generals, who in turn were a spiked ball in his own, etc, etc. Since
the only Russians I knew were always red in the face and always shouted
at me, and since my command of Russian when shouted from an inch away
in an abominable Ukrainian accent is not too hot, and since I therefore
misunderstood him to refer to boils on his bum, I took it for a joke
and laughed. But he was so ****ed off he nearly ordered the soldiers
poking rifles in my back to shoot me there and then.

When I saw how the thought of people enjoying themselves listening to
music made by tubes hurts poor old Pinko Presumptuous, Pinkerton the
Bolshi Cheroy (literally, Big Boil), it is hardly surprisng that the
image came naturally to mind of that Russian's superiors kneeling
behind him and drilling with a spiked ball in his... okay, okay, we'd
better leave it there. Pinko is red in the face and shouts at me all
the time like I am a class enemy just for persuading a few of the
tranny faithful-- so sorry, I mean commie commanders to come over to
the side of righteousness and light and hedonism.

HTH. Always happy to spread culture around the nations.

Andre Jute
A ballot box in one hand, a vacuum tube in the other

PS Cowboy, didn't you say you were a Russian? Give us a transliteration
for the quote above so I can render it in proper Russian in a book I'm
writing.

"Propaganda literature" must be distinguished from mere propaganda, in
which there is nothing significantly creative. The writer of mere
propaganda is concerned simply to popularize facts, ideas, and emotions
with which he is familiar. He uses cliches and slogans to produce the
desired effect on the minds of his public. The cause which he is
serving may happen to be good or bad, momentous or trivial. Of course
efficient propaganda in a good cause does produce a development of
experience in the public, and is therefore in a sense creative. But in
the writer himself, it is not an expression of developing experience,
and the activity of producing it does not further develop his
experience. However well he does his job, he is merely using sound
advertising technique. But in propaganda that is literature the idea to
be propagated is still alive and growing in the writer’s own mind. It
is a creative influence irradiating and transforming his experience. He
is dominated by it, possessed by it. It is a growing shoot which
ramifies through his mind. And since he has also an aptitude for verbal
expression, he is able to communicate to his public not merely certain
ideas, dried and salted and conveniently packed, but a potion which may
transform their whole attitude to life. In so far as he does his work
efficiently, his efficiency is not that of the advertiser but that of
the artist, whether he uses the direct method of expression and
exhortation, as Ruskin did, or the indirect method of fiction, like
Dickens. In either case, and whether the message is true or false, the
whole texture of his work will be in the strict sense literature,
although its dominant motive is not the developing of experience simply
for its own sake.(Stapledon 1939)

Andy Evans quoted Stapledon, 1939:

he is able to communicate to his public not merely certain
ideas, dried and salted and conveniently packed, but a potion which
may
transform their whole attitude to life.

Thanks, Andy. There are fewer opportunities now to transform attitudes
and lives than when I was young and full of spunk, when society had
real enemies. But, thank God, the potion of tube-related music is still
within my grasp.

Andre Jute
Zero tolerance for the enemies of fidelity

Andy Evans wrote:

"Propaganda literature" must be distinguished from mere propaganda,
in
which there is nothing significantly creative. The writer of mere
propaganda is concerned simply to popularize facts, ideas, and
emotions
with which he is familiar. He uses cliches and slogans to produce the
desired effect on the minds of his public. The cause which he is
serving may happen to be good or bad, momentous or trivial. Of course
efficient propaganda in a good cause does produce a development of
experience in the public, and is therefore in a sense creative. But
in
the writer himself, it is not an expression of developing experience,
and the activity of producing it does not further develop his
experience. However well he does his job, he is merely using sound
advertising technique. But in propaganda that is literature the idea
to
be propagated is still alive and growing in the writer?s own mind. It
is a creative influence irradiating and transforming his experience.
He
is dominated by it, possessed by it. It is a growing shoot which
ramifies through his mind. And since he has also an aptitude for
verbal
expression, he is able to communicate to his public not merely
certain
ideas, dried and salted and conveniently packed, but a potion which
may
transform their whole attitude to life. In so far as he does his work
efficiently, his efficiency is not that of the advertiser but that of
the artist, whether he uses the direct method of expression and
exhortation, as Ruskin did, or the indirect method of fiction, like
Dickens. In either case, and whether the message is true or false,
the
whole texture of his work will be in the strict sense literature,
although its dominant motive is not the developing of experience
simply
for its own sake.(Stapledon 1939)

Andre Jute wrote:
A few of the UKRAinians who wrote to my mailbox have apparently been
lurking on RAT because they want to know what "pilites" is and how it
is pronounced.


Prononunciation: Pie-lie-tees. Say it quickly as pile-eye-tees and you
have the origin as well.


Origin: A Russian once screamed in my face that I was "a spiked ball in

the haemorrhoids of the bolshi cheroy," the big bosses, colonels and
generals, who in turn were a spiked ball in his own, etc, etc. Since
the only Russians I knew were always red in the face and always shouted

at me, and since my command of Russian when shouted from an inch away
in an abominable Ukrainian accent is not too hot, and since I therefore

misunderstood him to refer to boils on his bum, I took it for a
joke
and laughed. But he was so ****ed off he nearly ordered the soldiers
poking rifles in my back to shoot me there and then.


When I saw how the thought of people enjoying themselves listening to
music made by tubes hurts poor old Pinko Presumptuous, Pinkerton the
Bolshi Cheroy (literally, Big Boil), it is hardly surprisng that the
image came naturally to mind of that Russian's superiors kneeling
behind him and drilling with a spiked ball in his... okay, okay, we'd
better leave it there. Pinko is red in the face and shouts at me all
the time like I am a class enemy just for persuading a few of the
tranny faithful-- so sorry, I mean commie commanders to come over to
the side of righteousness and light and hedonism.


HTH. Always happy to spread culture around the nations.


Andre Jute
A ballot box in one hand, a vacuum tube in the other


PS Cowboy, didn't you say you were a Russian? Give us a transliteration

for the quote above so I can render it in proper Russian in a book I'm
writing.

wrote in message
oups.com...
A few of the UKRAinians who wrote to my mailbox have apparently been
lurking on RAT because they want to know what "pilites" is and how it
is pronounced.

Prononunciation: Pie-lie-tees. Say it quickly as pile-eye-tees and you
have the origin as well.

Origin: A Russian once screamed in my face that I was "a spiked ball in
the haemorrhoids of the bolshi cheroy," the big bosses, colonels and
generals, who in turn were a spiked ball in his own, etc, etc. Since
the only Russians I knew were always red in the face and always shouted
at me, and since my command of Russian when shouted from an inch away
in an abominable Ukrainian accent is not too hot, and since I therefore
misunderstood him to refer to boils on his bum, I took it for a joke
and laughed. But he was so ****ed off he nearly ordered the soldiers
poking rifles in my back to shoot me there and then.

When I saw how the thought of people enjoying themselves listening to
music made by tubes hurts poor old Pinko Presumptuous, Pinkerton the
Bolshi Cheroy (literally, Big Boil), it is hardly surprisng that the
image came naturally to mind of that Russian's superiors kneeling
behind him and drilling with a spiked ball in his... okay, okay, we'd
better leave it there. Pinko is red in the face and shouts at me all
the time like I am a class enemy just for persuading a few of the
tranny faithful-- so sorry, I mean commie commanders to come over to
the side of righteousness and light and hedonism.

HTH. Always happy to spread culture around the nations.



http://s2.smugmug.com/photos/7889557-L.jpg

;-)

A creation of American humorist James Thurber, Walter Mitty has become
the cultural figurehead for escapist fantasies. The character type of
Mitty was even taken up by a psychologist, and 'Walter Mitty Syndrome'
was put forward in a British medical journal as a clinical condition
which manifested itself in compulsive fantasising. Thurber himself had
a rich fantasy life, partly because after his brother blinded him in
one eye with an arrow playing William Tell, he could not participate in
the usual games and activities with other children. His difficulties
continued as he had to drop out of university, and he later went almost
totally blind. His poor eyesight made him the frequent victim of clumsy
mistakes, adding to his rich sense of the absurd.
Part of Thurber’s art is that “reality” is a moveable feast. Plenty
more of Thurber's characters, in fact, become convinced of the
impossible in the course of a short story. In "The Day the Dam Broke,"
the entire citizenry of the East Side of Columbus flees from a
non-existent tidal wave. In real life he describes his grandmother's
"groundless fears," including "the horrible suspicion that electricity
was dripping invisibly all over the house," an image reproduced in one
of his cartoons. Other cartoons continue this spooky sense of fantasy.
One of the best known shows a couple in bed, and the irritated wife
snapping, "All right, Have It Your Way -- You Heard a Seal Bark!".
Unreality increases in "The Moth and the Star," where a moth spends
each night trying to fly to a star he thinks is "just caught in the top
branches of an elm." His father ridicules him: "All your brothers have
been badly burned flying around street lamps!"