Tag Archives: palindromes

PALTRY PRESS: ALIVE and, well, alive at least..

The Paltry Press, that brave little publication, is still struggling to tell its readers what’s coming and going. TRY-ing to PAL-indromize the news.
Here are some highlights from recent editions:

In its ‘Forum’, ‘Ed‘ asks an innocent question about the experimental band ‘Ghoti’s Moebius-inspired format:

DO GHOTI LPS HAVE AN ‘A’ ‘N A ‘B’ SIDE?

‘ITS AN A’!’ writes a commenter whose screen-name is ‘Anasti‘, adding her opinion of Ed:
‘ED’ IS BANANA-EVAH SPLIT. OH GOD!’

Enter Al, (screen-name ‘LASTI BASTION’) , who disagrees:
‘NO, ITS A ‘B’! and adds; ‘IT’S ‘AL’.

Elsewhere:

“An ill-manered military-liason drone, assigned to ‘Stellar-Observer’, a small-scale satelite launch at Vandenburg, a project worked-on for almost a year by high school students all over the US and Canada, took advantage of his access to add his own clay ‘rabbit?… (pig?) to the precious space in the capsule allocated for ‘thin paper drawings’ from schools around the world, meant to journey into space and of course cement today’s youth’s connection with science and adventure.
The space-craft, having been dynamic-balance spin-tested four days before the launch, of course developed a serious and fatal ‘wobble’ just seconds after being released from the nose of the 2nd-stage booster.
The villian, Cpl Jay Drumt Jr. of Carbondale, PA, caught on CC camera footage, and oblivious to the broken-hearted children, could only mutter while being dragged away by MPs: ‘So when do I get my ducky back?’ (It was a ‘duckie?)”
The sad headline reads:

“ONE RUDE CORPORAL LETS H-S ART TRASH STELLAR-O PROCEDURE. NO!”

‘Tech News’ reports:

“Start-up ‘alternative’ airconditioning venture NCH (Nature-Cool Housing) is reeling after faulty programming in their units resulted in several fatalities. Their devices, using as the refrigerant ‘home-grown amonia’ (“Cool with your own urine! Pays for itself in your lifetime!”) tragically reversed the end-product synthesis goal, resulting in HCN.

And in more pleasant news on ‘better living through chemistry’, ‘HOOCH-I- COOCH’, the hit drink this summer in many parts of the world is still working on revising the formula of their organo-metallic ‘Iodized Alcoholic Cooler’ offering in order to have it read the same in both directions. ;Scientists agree’  that by doing so, the nutrients will better ‘synch with the quantum vibrations of the human chakra’. Some scientists at least…

Paltry is also following food fashion:

“Prof Ian Dublin might have been wise not to use his real name in a post decrying the “deleterious effects of ‘undigested DNA’ in human’s diet”. A ‘novel‘ contention. (nice word for ‘wing-nut’, ‘wacko’ or ‘nut case’)
The avant-guard Berlin-based nutrition ‘collective’ “Es und Essen”, in their on-line journal, wasted no time slamming him and his ‘theory’… unto calling it ‘alconoci’, a pejorative Japanese term implying ethanol-induced delusional thinking. The headline:
REVO E-MAG ‘ES N ESN’ ON DNA ICONOCLAST I. DUBLIN: “NIL, BUD! IT’S ‘ALCONOCI’ AND NONSENSE. GAME OVER!”

And finally, an op-ed from the Paltry Press ‘In Our View’ column.
Chief Editor Nukio ‘SnoocCardiova does a typically hot-headed takedown, making marsupial road-kill of the recent fad: ‘Bonsai stamina.’
You’ve probably seen the You Tubes: they surreptitiously record a victim’s every move in a day, then post a ‘Before’… and ‘After’, having edited out all the small exertions the poor fellow made which they loftily deem ‘non-essential’. Some unlucky souls suffice to merely  get out of bed, eat a quick meal, then retire, in their judgement.
‘Snooc’ calls the perpetrators, ‘Animatsia-snobs’. He goes back to the original implication of the word ‘animated’ meaning, like, ‘moving around and, like, doing shit!’
Quote:
“Let he who has not wasted a second of his life (in his Mom’s basement?) pick up the first stone, judge its aerodynamics, calculate the trajectory, and wing it blithely toward real movers and shakers who are well aware, thank you, that a certain percentage of their moves and shakes will be judged, retrospectively, as ‘wasted stamina.”
(Snooc, in his research, somehow unbelievably located the Tel Aviv cinematographer who ‘edited-down’ her raw footage of my own three-year restoration project in Jaffa. Yes, the ‘cutting floor’ was littered with scenes of redundant effort, but in the final analysis, a jewel and ‘must-see’ tourist attraction was preserved for history. ‘Twas personally gratifying to see my name in print, and I graciously subscribed for another year of ‘symmetrical stories’.

 

Let’s pore thru three more quirks from Doctor ‘O’

Duncan, my guidance-counselor on just about everything proposed a nifty quantitative assessment formula in a comment on the last batch.
And so here are a few new palindromes for perusal:

This one’s about a DIY web-site for amateur crustacean plastic surgeons. I opened it with another Dr. ‘O’, Oliver Pond, after finding no similar site on the net. We even received a bar-code for the info-packets we intend to sell once word gets around. Stupid me misplaced it though. That snafu, plus a less-than perfect ‘outcome’ on the trial run I did and misgivings about overstating the number of claimed satisfied customers on our resume are the only problems so far.

DID IT MAH-SELF.NET…TO RE-DO A CRAB’S TITS. OLIVER POND ‘N’ I FIND NO ‘PREV’. I LOST ITS BAR-CODE. ROTTEN FLESH? AMT I DID?

And if anyone’s bored here’s what’s on TV. Yep I’m the guy who writes the ‘teases’ about up-coming shows. Hey, it’s a living.This one sounds interesting.

OK: NOW ON ‘SERF CITY’: LANA REVONA’S AN OVER-ANALYTIC FRESNO WONK…-O

And finally, this high-impedance piece de resistance: A fragmented tale of drug-running. ‘Alto Gatro’ (his street name) met up with a guy who sounds suspiciously like moi and are doing this deal as a team. prolly a bigger horse than either of ’em knows how to ride. Plus, ‘Alto’s recently-acquired Spanish might not be up to the task. Shoulda taken his girl Maria along. ‘Solbonk’, him of the many names, may be cop too… Tough, outside of the law:

SORTA GOT LATINO TOO LATE. BIG IGLOO!. CAN U RETRO-FLY MARIA TO HANOI MA? I’M TOO WASTED. A VETERAN I’M NOT. *SOB*
AN ITEM IN A KNOB-LOS RAG: ‘DER ODER SEITUNG’. ‘GNU-TIES RED’ (OR ‘EDGAR SOLBONK’) ‘N’ I MET IN A BOSTON MINARET. (EVADE TSA..WOOT!)
MIAMI ON A HOT AIR AMYL-FORTE RUN. A COOL GIG; I BET A LOOT ON IT. -‘ALTO GATROS’.

They be gettin’ longer. Better?

1) Ok, This first one requires some investment. You need to know about the famous TV detective, ‘Rose’ who each week tracks down a different reclusive millionaire. This week’s colorful fella, both an oil baron and a medical doctor, was located in the geriatrics ward of Mt. Sinai Hospital. Admitted under two (2) false names, he confided with the likable Detective Rose, even detailing the circumstances by which he contracted his disease.

DET. ROSE TRACES DOC AT SINAI: RENE GOT POLIO AT A GERBIL-LAMINATER/E-T/ANIMAL LIB REGATA. OIL OPTOGENERIAN, IS ‘TACO DESCARTES’, OR ‘TED’

2) This one I wrote yesterday for Elgan of Xanga fame, now ‘My world and welcome to it’ and still my fav Canadian.. It describes another sleuth who sought her secret of whirlwind vocal accomplishments:

HE TUGS ELLA’S TIME LOG; ‘RED ROSE ‘N O.J. AT TEN A.M.’ EL USES UMLAUT; CANADIAN ACE CAN AID AN ACTUAL MUSE- SULEMAN? ETTA JONES? ‘DER GOLEM?? IT’S ALLES GUT, EH?

3) Back in the USA, where Deleware’s powerful Moravian lobby has finally pushed through the ‘No More Avians!’ Bill in the State-house. Bad news for feather-fetish perverts.

‘GOOSE PORN ON ROPES’:
OOGLED NICE ‘DEMO’S? ENOLA ‘X’-ES ORGASMS? SMS AGRO-SEX?
A LONESOME DEC IN DEL: GOOSE PORN ON ROPES. OOG!

4) And possibly the most far-fetched: this report on my daughter Lucy’s budding career. I only recently allowed my kids to skip school for stuff… like this ORCA to-do. Her exhibit was excellent; just a shame the venue was on a dead-end street down by the sewage plant, nameless for now. I tried to suggest one but the stench inspired only gibberish. They do need to work on it though.

UN-TIE BRATS… AN’ MY GAL SET SAIL; ALAS AN EMO, STILL A COED. ORCA SHO-CASED LUCY: KNITS, ANIMALS, L.A. ERA. A REAL SLAM…IN A STINKY CUL DE SAC(!) OH SACRO DEO!, CALL IT SOME NASAL ALIAS, TESLA GYMNAST… ARBEIT NU!

Ok, I’m kinda thinking three lines shall henceforth be my minimum. This last one from an hour ago took a half hour to write, so if I can sell it for 50 shekels I’m covering expenses.

And as usual, what does anybody think… by the numbers/ Dr ‘O’

‘O-PAL’s Winter Collection: Ladies Dresses; Half off!

Yeah we’re almost giving ’em away. Nice longish palindromes for every occasion.

The background stories (included at no charge) are mostly fictionalized first-person versions of true stories. I decided to go that route since, you know, I wuz there when they were created.

1) Back when I did the orchestra for beauty pageants I always seemed to meet one contestant who had some special charm, class, and sweetness. We’d talk some backstage before the show, and I always felt that in a perfect world she would win. She never did, and I often made a point to console her briefly afterwards.
Now here’s ‘Simon’s note to…call her ‘Pussy’ after learning early from a judge that she hadn’t won. Never had a chance up against ‘Miss Yada’, barely covered by her knock-off Vicki’s Secret doilies:

NO, MISS YADA WON, PUSSY. BANAL LACE-WARE ERA! WE CALL AN ABYSS ‘UP’ NOWADAYS– SIMON.

2) Anyway, looks like mothers will soon be treated to a unique pilot projet embracing tribal and animistic medine to combat their pesky tropical ailments. The doctors seem quite proud of it, but we shall see whether words, sacrifices and natural foods produce results:

DOCS BRAG: US ‘WAR ON DUMB MALARIA’ TO HELP ‘MA’ ; AMPLE HOT AIR, A LAMB, MUD, NO RAW SUGAR, B-S, AND COD.

3) My buddy Greg, an improbable mix of pilot and junkie like moi turned me on to something a bit strong even for my tastes. We’d just been discussing radio ettiquitte an’ I asked him:

‘DO I SAY ‘ROGER, GREGORY.’ AS I O.D?’

4) I asked him if he ever considered returning to his small home-town in Tennessee; he’d left the place abruptly several years ago. He was quick to answer:

‘NO SIR! PANI, TN? IT’S A STINT IN A PRISON!’

5) I raced home, kinda DUI, just in time to give my Dad, still not speaking after his stroke, a lift to some birthday event for a friend of his I hadn’t met. He came in the door with a bag of fruit gift-wrapped. Our conversation:

DON’T SIT, PA…BANANAS, EH? HE’S AN ANABAPTIST??
*NOD*

Dat’s it for this page. Lots of other gowns in the back but some of ’em need alterations. Keep in touch/’O’

…and I’d be thrilled to hear, by the number, which ‘dress’ is attractive or not. I really haven’t a clue what a palindrome’s selling points are.

Hey I’m innocent! So’s the canary. But how are we gonna finish this caper?

Ok this is actually an article about the mechanics of writing longish palindromes, but let’s stay with fantasy for a while ok?

It   all started with CANARY.

No, with ‘the canary’. (Of course ‘the bird is the word’, you’ve no doubt heard.)

She alighted on my window-sill last night looking starved… hollow-cheeked in fact. Twas a no-brainer to offer to take her up the street to ‘Red Rosy’s 24-hr Diner’, one of my fav hangouts.
We pulled into the lot and then I saw it. Him? Some creature running off into the woods from the rear service door. (The pix I snapped on my phone oddly failed to turn out, wouldn’t ya know)
Anyway, we set ourselves down and ordered. She wanted two ‘chicken’ eggs over hard, home fries, and an English muffin.
“Coffee?” asked Rosy, ignoring the obvious fact that she was serving a song-bird.
“Can I have orange juice?”, the canary asked me sweetly.
“Of course; O.J it is” I told her.
Ok, everything was fine… and she even got a chance to meet my buddy Ed who sat down at the counter next to us. ‘Ed Argyl’ we called him. That wasn’t his real last name; no it was ‘cuz of the socks he’d worn since grade school. Now a police academy candidate, with its own dress code, he might let us in on his real name soon.
“Something wrong with the juice?” I asked the bird when she pushed it away from her plate with a delicate wing.
Nah maybe I just changed my mind.” she chirped tactfully.
But one sip I took (never waste food) and I knew it was old and watered-down. Grade ‘B’ OJ, to be kind. Could Rosy have knowingly done a trick like this?
Ed maintained that, in his words: “No way man, somebody’s screwing with the goods!”
I’d already told him about the ‘animal’? I’d seen in the lot:
“Like a sasquatch.”, I said, “‘course they don’t exist…”
Me ‘n canary were just finishing our breakfasts when Ed came back with the news:
“Prints leading to the door, all the way to the fridge, and then back out. Longer gait on the exit path.” we learned from Ed, a bit out of breath.
“That means that he…um… ‘it’ wuz prolly running away huh?” I asked him.
Yup, we covered that last week at the school.” Ed said, kinda proud of his new skills.
“So the animal I saw…”
“Yes, prime suspect, and apparently intelligent for a proto-homonid. Knew enough to replace the fresh-squeezed… er… ‘pinched’ stuff with water.”
“Whew. At least Rosy’s off the hook!” I told him. “...and thanks to Mr. Ace detective ha.”

Happy ending, and thanks for reading…
But when I went to write it all down I ran into a snafu.
See I started with CANARY. Backwards is ‘Y RAN A C-‘

Scant hours later I had:
YAY! A YETI, NOT RED ROSY RAN A CON JOB: ED ARGYL, NOTED ACE CADET: “ONLY GRADE ‘B’ O.J. ON CANARY’S ORDER TONITE. YAY!

The problem is that I ‘add’ to CANARY in both directions, making sure of a semblance of bi-directional logic on both fronts. Yet at some point one needs to turn it into a single string of letters identical in either direction. I suppose that CANARY need not be the center word. And now that I write this I’m thinking to go to:

‘Y’, A YETI, NOT RED ROSY RAN A CON JOB: ED ARGYL, NOTED ACE CADET: “ONLY GRADE ‘B’ O.J. ON CANARY’S ORDER TONITE. YAY!

Oy, that works, but I’d have to come up with a reason for calling the critter ‘Y’. (Not to mention pointing out, as I re-read the story that in the States at least most of my memorable breakfasts were at night, or call it ‘early morning’.
A tough job I’ve undertaken, feeding starving birds. Not to mention searching the lot the next morning for ‘spoor’ With Ed. Gung ho, that guy.

‘O’ the PAL DOC is interesting or original, huh? But never both?

A timely question, as I attempt to profit from my little hobby. Knowing that my clients can Google any creation I come up…it’s a mixed blessing. I religiously avoid copying anyone else’s efforts; ya can’t sell ’em as yours, plus eyeing the competition is more annoying than inspiring. But I suppose I do have an obligation to check each ‘gem’ for imitators, so to speak.
Ok, for truly long ones, like the phrase below, written ten years ago and turned into a nifty 4-part harmony song as well as being the ‘punch-line’ of a longish short story on Xanga, the chances of it having been independently ‘discovered by the million-ape typists are astronomically slim.
“NOT WE, NOT WE, NEGRO ‘G’, DIRT UP ANI’S EVIL BUT TANGY GNAT TUB; LIVES IN A PUTRID GORGE, NEW TO NEWTON”

But how about this one, short, sweet, and almost Panamanian:

“A DOG, A PLAN, A BANAL PAGODA”

I swear I created it; yet it could easily belong to some prior human who came up with it first. One way to find out, of course, but I dunna wanna look; it’d be just too sad…

I did (almost) sell this short one… to a Catholic school teacher who heard what I was doing. She asked me for one ‘with a religious theme’.
Just hours later I turned in ‘NU NO NE NA NI’. Called it a ‘SLEW OV VOWELS’ , just for good measure.

Guess what; she graded it and returned it, no deal!
Scrawled on it in red ink: “INANE; NO NUN!”
Fine, lady, be that way. Mebbe I shoulda gone with the ‘PAGODA‘? They’re religious, ain’t they?
Oh well. I’m feeling better having shared this here. And stay tuned; I may shortly be very rich.

‘You’ve got a PAL IN DR ‘O’. (ME!)

Yes it’s official. Awarded myself an honorary Doctorate. And took upon myself the heavy responsibility of leading the masses , forwards and backwards, through the random(?) jungle of words and their spellings.
Ok the clincher was last night’s belated net-research into what others are doing in the field. Came away both sad and proud; an odd mix of emotions.
Sad, perhaps, upon discovering that ‘We are not alone’. Working as I do, alone in my Mom’s acne-infested basement, well past self-respecting adolescence I was blithely convinced that my efforts were ‘unique’. (They are; more later.)
Yes, an endless page of Palindromic sentences was only a click away.
Yet they all smell so ‘Palindromic’. The blatant springs and arrows left in the final product, the aroma of contrivance and bitter necessity. I vowed to do better. It *was*, though, instructive to see many of my own ‘discoveries’ in ‘prior-art’ print.
And yet… my creations must all pass a test I adhere to religiously. They must possess some erudite charm factor.
I so hope that my readers will agree; DR ‘O’ truly stands on the shoulders of minions of midgets…. the ‘MADAM I’M ADAM’ crowd. Go get a real life, ADAM, you’re just tired and in my way.

And while we’re handing out advice, Valerie, young, sweet (and only moderately ‘lost’ considering her age) got an earful when she let the ‘Jewish mothers’ at the bake-sale plan her life:

WE’RE BOSSY? DO BONSAI, VAL SO GUYS’LL ACT ‘RANDOM’, OD ON MASTADON, NOD AT SAM… NO, DO MOD’N ART. CALL ‘S’ YUGOSLAVIA. ‘S’… NOBODY’S SOBER. EW!
…There ya go, Adam!