Bank In The Sky With Diamonds

____________________________________________________________________________________

Lucian Olteanu

This is his photograph.


Mrs. CarPeo did not
name this picture.

The photographer did that.

She just sent it to me.

Without geometry,
there are no illusions.  
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Lucien In The Sky With Diamonds

____________________________________________________________________________________

Lucien Clergue


It is his photograph.


It is Mrs. CarPeo's title.


But the soundtrack is

from the Beatles.




The next Beatles' page is here.
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A Poem For Paul Klee

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Paul Klee

Fish Magic

Time is suspended
in a mobile

Fish float

A moon talks
at midnight

There is a woman
(always)

Colors float








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Footnote
A POEM FOR PAUL KLEE was written by Paul Olierio
and is the copyrighted property of LCSoL
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Silence is Golden (CR #262)

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Sometimes
What you do not do
Is worth more
Than what you can do




Non Sequitir
Wiley
____________________________________________________________________________________

Count The Dots

____________________________________________________________________________________

Nature, unnaturally...

Lisa Stefanelli
Whose Woods These Are






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The Proof Of The Roof

____________________________________________________________________________________

A hyperlink would
Be in the lack

If  Up on the Roof
Was not the soundtrack

But this photo cries out
Up on What roof?

The picture's title
provides the proof...



Hermann Landshoff
On The Roof of Saks 5th Avenue Building
(1942)

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Quoting Balzac: God Almighty's Outcasts

____________________________________________________________________________________

Those poor bond-slaves who do the work of the world 
without a reward for their toil–God Almighty's outcasts, 
I call them.

Among them, I grant you is
virtue in all the flower of its stupidity
but poverty is no less their portion. 

At this moment, I think I see the long face 
those good folk would pull if God 
played a practical joke on them and
stayed away at the Last Judgment.  

- Honore de Balzac




The author attributes those words to Vautrin, the "criminal" character of PERE GORIOT. 
They are spoken to Rastignac, the "social climber."
____________________________________________________________________________________

Quotes Beginning With The Word All

____________________________________________________________________________________

All generalizations are dangerous, even this one. ---Alexandre Dumas

All great truths begin as blasphemies. ---George Bernard Shaw

All intelligent thoughts have already been thought;
what is necessary is only to try to think them again. ---Johann Wolfgang von Goethe


For memorable quotes beginning with words other than All, click here. 
____________________________________________________________________________________

GO RIOT Fans: This Page Is Not For You

____________________________________________________________________________________

Under a full moon, I would howl:
Balzac is the French Dawn Powell

For fans of the serious novel
Let me put these words in order:
Dawn Powell is Honore de Balzac's
Literary grand-daughter.

This laughing-stock was the retired vermicelli merchant,
Father Goriot, upon whose face a painter, like the historian,
would have concentrated all the light in his picture.
Honore Balzac
 Pere Goriot






The next Dawn Powell page–with more  Balzac–is here.

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He Said...She Said...(He/She #18) ©

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__________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________
______________________________________________

"Christians know this to be true: Jesus was a Jew."

"And Californians know this for a fact:
  Hispanics name their sons after Him!"

"But they pronounce it HAY-ZEUS."

"I think it's brilliant that they honor Greek
  and Christian mythology in the same name."

"Did you know that, on Mount Olympus
  Jesus & Zeus are on the same bowling team?"

"Of course I know that. And they snack on chips
  with salsa & guacamole."

"And we have snacked on too much Christmas eggnog!" 
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____________________________________________________________________________________

Exactly Two Words From Mr. & Mrs. CarPeo

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MERRY CHRISTMAS








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He Said, She Said (He/She #17) ©

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____________________________________________

"Laughter is the best medicine."

"Except for the person we are laughing about."  
____________________________________________
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____________________________________________________________________________________

A Christmas Gift From Zelda...

______________________________________________________________________________________

In 1918, Zelda Sayre, later Zelda Fitzgerald, won a prize 
for this story...published in the Sidney Lanier High School Literary Journal.




The story was recently unearthed, and the Fitzgerald estate was surprised to learn of its existence. 


Read it in full below. The New Yorker preserved most of  the original spelling and typographical errors.)



The Iceberg

Cornelia gazed out of the window and sighed, not because she was particularly unhappy, but because she had mortified her parents and disappointed her friends. Her two sisters, younger than she, were married and established for life long ago; yet here she remained at thirty years of age, like a belated apple or a faded bachelor’s button, either forgotten or not deemed worth the picking. Her father did not scold. He kindly suggested that perhaps Neilie would do more for herself if the rest of the family would leave her alone. Her brother said, “Cornie’s a fine girl and good looking enough, but she’s got no magnetism. A fellow might as well try to tackle an iceberg.” For all that, the family cat found her responsive enough, and the little fox-terrier fairly adored her, to say nothing of a blue jay that insisted upon a friendly dispute every time she stole to her retreat in the old-fashioned Southern garden. Her mother said, “Cornelia is not sympathetic. She looks at a man with her thoughts a thousand miles away, and no man’s vanity will stand for that. What good are beautiful clothes and musical genius if humanity is left out? No! No! Cornelia will never marry, Cornelia is my despair.”

Now Cornelia sometimes grew weary of disapproval and resented it. “Mother,” she would say, “is marriage the end and aim of life? Is there nothing else on which a woman might spend her energy? Sister Nettie is tied to a clerical man, and, between caring for the baby and making ends meet, looks older than I. Sister Blanche finds so little comfort in a worked-down husband that she has taken to foreign missions and suffrage for diversion. If I’m an economic proposition, I’ll turn to business.”

So, without more ado, she secretly took a course at business college, and taught the fingers that had rippled over Chopin and Chaminade to be equally dexterous on the typewriter. Her eyes seemed to grow larger and more luminous as she puzzled over the hieroglyphics of stenography.

“That Miss Holton is a wonder,” said the manager of the college. “Yes, she’s a social failure, but she bids fair to be a business success,” agreed a young man who had once fallen into her indifferent keeping.

Just then the phone rang. “At once, you say! Wait a moment, I’ll see.” Proceeding softly to her desk, he said, “Miss Holton, I consider you quite efficient as a pupil. Do you care to answer an emergency call? The firm of Gimbel, Brown and Company wishes a stenographer at once. What do you say to the place?”

“What do I say? Why, it just hits the spot. Let me get my hat and I’m off.”

“Well,” said the manager, “I do like a girl who knows what she wants.”

If her mother could only have heard that! Perhaps, after all, Cornelia had always known what she wanted—and failed to find it. Perhaps, after all, a social equation in trousers had not been just what Cornelia craved. Perhaps, after all, Cornelia was seeking self-expression. At any rate, she lost no time in finding Gimbel, Brown and company, and was not the least aghast that this was the mighty multi-millionaire Gimbel who needed her services.

“Miss Holton, you say? Cornelia Holton, the daughter of my old friend, Dan Holton? Why bless your heart, have a seat! This is so sudden! When did you enter the business arena, pray?”

Cornelia was not abashed. With her usual straight-forward earnestness, she said, “Yes, I’m Cornelia Holton, and I’m in business to stay. If the arena is full of Bulls and Bears, I’m here to wrestle. What can I do for you, Mr. Gimble?”

With a twinkle in his eye and a queer little smile, he pushed toward her the pile of snowy paper and began to dictate. North, South, East, and West the messages flew, and Cornelia’s fingers flew with them. White, slender, and shapely, they graced the machine as they had the piano, and, when lunch hour came, her face had flushed, and the little brown curls clung to her forehead with a slight moisture of effort. Cornelia was beautiful over her first conquest of the typewriter!

As she rose to go, she blushed, and stammered, “Mr. Gimble, I’ll thank you not to tell my parents of this. They have no knowledge of my business enterprise and would be quite horrified. You know, nothing succeeds like success. I have been a failure long enough.” And she smiled as she left, the old grace of the distasteful ball-room clinging to her in spite of her steady resolve.

“Well, by jove!” exclaimed Mr. Gimble. “By Jove!” he reiterated, “who’d a thought a Holton woman would go into business! Why, that girl’s mother was the greatest belle that this city ever produced. Well, she couldn’t get married, maybe.” So he too, went his way thinking of the little wife that had died years ago and of the great emptiness that had taken her place and that he had tried to fill with money.

Several months flew by. The Holton’s had their shock when Cornelia announced her business success, and were again in the normal path of life. The cat said, “I told you so! I knew she had the element of success in her!” The little dog barked, “Doggone her! I always knew I didn’t wag my tail for nothing.” The blue jay noisily called, “Aw, come on now and let’s finish our dispute. You can build a nest if I can, and you can hatch a family, too, if you try. Aw go awn!” But that was nothing to what the society world said when Cornelia Holton and James G. Gimble walked quietly to the study of the Reverend Devoted Divine and were made one, eve: to the millions and the famous homestead was also a palace of art and aesthetic refinement.

Mrs. Holton fainted over her coffee-cup when she unfolded the morning paper and beheld the head-lines, side-by-side with, and quite as large as the war news. Mr. Holton chuckled, as he emptied the water-bottle over her most expensive negligee. “I always said Cornelia had something up her sleeve.” “Well, the old girl must have warmed up at last,” added her brother.

The front door opened and in walked the disheveled sisters, screaming, “Mamma, mamma—Cornelia, the old maid—she has out-married us all!”

___________________

© The Fitzgerald Estate
___________________

Also, in 1918, Zelda Sayre met a soldier
named Scott Fitzgerald...

And our world would never be the same.  









______________________________________________________________________________________
Footnotes
This is the eleventh GoodFather page about Scott & Zelda. The first one is here 
but there are also numerous GodFather of Math pages about Scott & Zelda.

The next quote from Scott  Fitzgerald appears on the bottom of this page.  
______________________________________________________________________________________

When? Where? But Not Who!

____________________________________________________________________________________

It was a hot summer day
or was it winter?
Her shadow is there
or is it hers?

It lingers above Moriarty’s
in Brooklyn?
Manhattan?
Queens?

She is on a subway platform
Who ever she is

But we know
it is Vivian Maier!

Her next page is  here.


____________________________________________________________________________________

On The Eve Of Christmas Eve (A Poem)

____________________________________________________________________________________

Let all bad feelings take leave
Put aside all that you grieve
For the next 48 hours, just believe

Pretend you are Adam or Eve
And everyone else is Eve or Adam (or Steve)

Or you are Genevieve
And the world is your Eve

It is good to receeve
But better to geeve


____________________________________________________________________________________
Footnote
ON THE EVE OF CHRISTMAS EVE is the copyrighted property of CarPeo Inc.

 











____________________________________________________________________________________

Existentialism 101 (CR #250)

____________________________________________________________________________________

Definitely, an A+ student


...Z's breed A's...

MUTTS
Patrick McDonnell

____________________________________________________________________________________

He Said...She Said...(He/She #16) ©

____________________________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________
____________________________________________

"Why isn't our relationship always peaches & cream?"

"Because we have to leave room for other food."

"So then, let's go out for pizza."

"As long as they hold the anchovies."  
____________________________________________
__________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________________

On Cave Or Wall (A Poem)

____________________________________________________________________________________

On Cave or on the wall,
Extinguish the artificial light

And the figure tall
Rises above all in the hall
But he cannot be bright

Or the shadows will fall.






____________________________________________________________________________________
Footnote
ON CAVE OR WALL is the copyrighted property of CarPeo Inc.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Son of Langston

____________________________________________________________________________________

I play it cool
And dig all jive
That's the reason
I'm still alive.

My motto
As I live and learn
Is dig and be dug
In return.

-Langston Hughes
Motto

In 1990,
the "Son of Langston"
was the Yearbook editor
at  Jefferson High School.

OUR MOTTO
is the dream deferred
of all students
and their teachers.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Viva Vivian Maier!

____________________________________________________________________________________

We should all be  eternally grateful to John Maloof...

And it  began  in 2007 when

he bought a box of 10,000 
never developed negatives 
at a local auction for $380 


The photographer responsible for all that undeveloped film
was VIVIAN MAIER.

For her entire adult life, Vivian was a nanny and a caretaker.
Photography was a hobby  she shared with absolutely no one!

Ms. Maier  died in 2009 just before John Maloof could find her.

But now the world will never forget her photographs and
that world's best Christmas gift this year may be this website.

The Vivian Maier Documentary

is coming to a theater near you

in March, 2014

The next Vivian Maier page is here.







____________________________________________________________________________________

VOTE On God's Infinite Wisdom...

____________________________________________________________________________________

...Or just enjoy ACCEPTANCE, a short poem by Langston Hughes privately
without casting a finger-poking vote on  God in His infinite wisdom.

But you have the freedom
to not enjoy ACCEPTANCE









 
____________________________________________________________________________________
Footnote

The next Langston Hughes page is here and an earth-shattering Langston Hughes is there.

The latter may be the only GoodFather/GodFather example of magic realism.
____________________________________________________________________________________

TINA in FabricLand

______________________________________________________________________________________


ART DAILY WILL TELL YOU THE REAL STORY.....................................................

______________________________________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________________________________

Merry Christmas & Happy Shenanigans to one and all.

TINA is an acronym for...This Is Not Alice.

The photographer is Marek Kruszewski.

Marek Kruszewski

More Information: http://artdaily.com/index.asp?int_sec=4&int_dif=1[/url]
Copyright © artdaily.org

______________________________________________________________________________________

(Do You Love Me) x 3 x 2

______________________________________________________________________________________

When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter,
"Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?"

Simon said to him, "Yes, Lord; you know that I love you."
Jesus said to him, "Feed my lambs."


A second time he said to him,
"Simon, son of John, do you love me?"

Simon said to him, "Yes, Lord; you know that I love you."
Jesus said to him, "Tend my sheep."


He said to him the third time,
"Simon, son of John, do you love me?"


______________________________________________
______________________________________________

Years ago, I was  a true Catholic teenager. 
I preferred the dance floor to the catechism. 

I preferred the bugaloo to the Bible.   But...
Berry Gordy was well acquainted with both.
And here is the proof:

He wrote a song wherein...

The same exact question asked
by Jesus Christ is repeated exactly
three times—in each verse!



______________________________________________
______________________________________________

Merry Christmas & Happy Feet to one and all...
______________________________________________________________________________________

Eva's Cherries

______________________________________________________________________________________

It is Christmas time

So let's send Merries

Eva loves Adan

More than some cherries

The new year 
Is almost here
And then the rhyme

Must fit Valentine

She loves her man

For many reasons

Eva loves Adan

For all seasons

______________________________________________________________________________________

The next adventure of Adan & Eva is here.


© CarPeo





______________________________________________________________________________________

Quoting C.V.V.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Reticence is more powerful in literature than shouting.
Carl Van Vechten

____________________________________________________________________________________

F.Y.I.

____________________________________________________________________________________
There are twelve shopping days until Christmas...

Angel Boligan










____________________________________________________________________________________

Neither/Nor

______________________________________________________________________________________

Dear John

Neither...
should men advise women

Nor...
should they have neighbors with 19-yr-old daughters.

Sincerely,
A. Nony Mous

______________________________________________________________________________________

Does Marlon ♥ Dawn???

______________________________________________________________________________________

What this image lacks in clarity is offset

by the profundity of the answer

to a simple question asked

by the dancing girl  

(Peggy Maley)





Mildred: Hey Johnny, what are you rebelling against?
Johnny: Whadda you got? 

__________________________________________

THE WILD ONE (1953) was written by John Paxton
and based on a story by Frank Rooney. 

What those  two writers lack in fame is offset by the
immortality bestowed upon the film by its star:

Johnny was portrayed by Marlon Brando.

Four of the five hyperlinks above connect you to
imdb.com but the first one is a youTube video of
the immortal quote from the film.

But the title of this page–Does Marlon ♥ Dawn???–
is admittedly cryptic and possibly clever or cute.

However, the fact is...the image below is a page from
a novel published in 1948.

Dawn Powell
The Locusts Have No King




The next Dawn Powell page is here.





Feel free to quote the GoodFather of Math but better minds than his have essentially said
the same damn thing:     Without thievery, there is no genius.

Hey! Whaddaya know?
The name of this website (and its predecessor–the GodFather of Math) is indebted to
another cinematic character immortalized by Marlon Brando.

______________________________________________________________________________________

 

Mr. Potato Head, We Found Your Nose

___________________________________________________________________________________

 
 



Since the title did not qualify as a winning caption
for this photograph, you may insert your own caption:



________________________________________

___________________________________________________________________________________
 

Chico Hamilton, R.I.P.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Chico Hamilton has died in New York
at the age of 92.

Hamilton, who worked on films with Fred Astaire, Bing Crosby and Bob Hope,
recorded more than 60 albums as a bandleader and was an architect
of the West Coast cool jazz style.

Among the musicians inspired by Hamilton was Rolling Stones drummer,  Charlie Watts.

Watts later told the Los Angeles Times:
"Chico Hamilton was playing drums on the first record I bought.
I can't really explain how the music made me feel.
It was just something with the sound of the brushes.
But I just fell in love with it."

He was born Foreststorn Hamilton in Los Angeles on September 20, 1921,
and performed in a high school jazz band that included Dexter Gordon
and Charles Mingus. He said he acquired the name Chico
because "I was always a small dude."

That was Jefferson High School and the teacher was Samuel Rodney Browne.


∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫ ∫

In A Sentimental Mood

The Wind









Chico Hamilton died on November 25th. You will find more of his music here.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Adan & Eva & The Oven

______________________________________________________________________________________

Adan said

"It's time for baked potato."

Eva said

"No, no, no wait til lat-o."

Adan's nose had grown

(He wasn't looking 

at the oven).

Like all the good men...

all he really wants  

is  good lovin'

Eva frustratedly pointed upstairs to their bed:  

"It will wait 'til the hair grows back on top of your head."

______________________________________________________________________________________
Footnotes
Anyone interested in usage of this copyrighted page,
please direct inquiries to this website or call 562 208 7967.


The next adventure of ADAN & EVA  is here.

Mr. CarPeo (but not necessarily Mrs. CarPeo) would like to thank
the Rascals for providing a theme song for this page.

© CarPeo






______________________________________________________________________________________

We Could All Use Some BLISS (CR #234)

____________________________________________________________________________________

Unfortunately
No Dad can now say
"My son would never talk that way."






Harry Bliss ©

Rather than
End up on the floor
Leave your ego at the door

But before you wander out
Before you roam...
Be sure to take that ego home

See caption below








____________________________________________________________________________________

Old Blue Eyes & The King

____________________________________________________________________________________

Old Blue Eyes & The King
Both could sing
Both could swing

Both did light up
Entire nations
With  different sounds
For different generations

Like Frank Sinatra before him
Elvis Presley could say–
I did it MY WAY

With the passing of  Nelson Mandela,
it behooves me, at this time,
to acknowledge some people
who contributed mightily
to the cause of  Civil Rights
of all human beings.



Both men photographed here–
Frank Sinatra & Elvis Presley–
would have the same response
to the statement
God bless Nelson Mandela.

They would say:
"God already did that–
ninety-five years ago!"
____________________________________________________________________________________

Son, The Highest Cloud Is... (A Poem)

____________________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________

 
Son, The Highest Cloud Is The Floor Of Heaven
Are you sure that's where it is, Dad?
Do you think one cloud can hold us all up?
Support  us,  I  mean?
I mean if we put ten people in our tree house
Dad, you know they're gonna fall
Right  through  the  bottom
To  the  ground.

_______________________________________________________________

____________________________________________________________________________________
Footnotes
SON, THE HIGHEST CLOUD IS THE FLOOR OF HEAVEN is the copyrighted property
of the Lewis Carroll School of Logic.

Mr. & Mrs. CarPeo dedicate this poem to Brooklyn-born Peter Iacangelo. 
____________________________________________________________________________________

Thus Spake Willie Inardz

____________________________________________________________________________________

Woids is what communicashun is all about. 
You can't describe pickshurs without 'em and you need woids
 to 'splain body langwidge. You cannot talk about numbaz 
without using woids. 

But all of the woids below will be spelt the right way...
 ✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪


God gave man religion because he did not need it for himself. 
He gave woman everything else.
 ✪✪✪✪✪

If you bury too many hatchets, you can grow a garden of razor blades.
 ✪✪✪✪✪

Fatigue is the just dessert after the bouillabaise of accomplishment.
 ✪✪✪✪✪

Copyright is my middle name.
 ©©©©©

Unrequited love is the service entrance to a woman's heart.
 ✪✪✪✪✪

9/11 is the only day in history to be remembered as a fraction. 
The next day–entirely due to embarrassment–God moved 
to the backseat  and let Godette do the driving.
 ✪✪✪✪✪

Anal retentive is an adult way of calling someone an asshole.


 ____________________________________________________________________________________
Footnotes
THUS SPAKE WILLIE INARDZ is the copyrighted property of LCSoL.

The title is corrupted from Frederich Nietzsche.

I dedicate this page  to James Rath,  Jack McCarthy, Jude King,
Richard Smith, Sandra Dijkstra, Queensborough Community College,
and a Long Island Expressway overpass.

I apologize to Dr. Sweetheart for excluding him from last night's dinner.
But Mr. & Mrs. CarPeo wish Robby Ravenwood a rainbow of riches.

Thank you for reading this.
____________________________________________________________________________________