Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Maybe death is like camp?

Alexander Solzhenitsyn, the Russian author of The Gulag Archipelago, among other books, was born on this day in 1918.

Solzhenitsyn spent eight years in a Soviet labour camp for criticizing the government in his writings.

In an interview with Spiegel Online International, Solzhenitsyn was asked if he was afraid of death.

"No, I am not afraid of death any more," he said. "When I was young the early death of my father cast a shadow over me -- he died at the age of 27 -- and I was afraid to die before all my literary plans came true. But between 30 and 40 years of age my attitude to death became quite calm and balanced.

"I feel it is a natural, but no means the final, milestone of one's existence."

See another writer's opinion of Solzhenitsyn at www.cynicalendar.blogspot.com.

Friday, December 7, 2012

Pearl Harbor Day

On the morning of December 7, 1941, a Sunday, a swarm of 360 Japanese warplanes attacjked the U.S. naval base at Pearl Harbor in Hawaii. The surprise attack struck a critical blow against the U.S. Pacific fleet and drew the United States into World War II.

That morning, many military personnel had been given passes to attend religious services off-base. At about 7 o'clock, two radio operators spotted large groups of aircraft in flight toward the island from the north, but, with a flight of B-17s expected from the U. S., they were told to sound no alarm. Thus, the Japanese assault came as a devastating surprise.

Five of eight battleships, three destroyers, and seven other ships were sunk or severely damaged, and more than 200 aircraft were destroyed. A total of 2,400 Americans were killed and 1,200 were wounded. It could have been worse: Three fleet carriers were out at sea on training maneuvers.

Japan's losses were some 30 planes, five midget submarines, and fewer than 100 men.

The next day, President Roosevelt appeared before a joint session of Congress and said, "Yesterday, December 7, 1941--a date which will live in infamy..." and asked Congress to approve a resolution declaring war between the U. S. and Japan. The Senate voted in favor 82 to 0, and the House 388 to 1. The sole dissenter was Representative Jeannette Rankin of Montana, a devout pacifist who had also cast a dissenting vote against the U.S. entrance into World War I.

Three days later, Germany and Italy declared war against the U. S., and the U.S. government responded in kind.

The American contribution to the successful Allied war effort spanned four years and cost more than 400,000 American lives.

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Erewhonsville, man

English novelist Samuel Butler was born on this day in 1835.

In his utopian novel Erewhon, Butler has his narrator describe the Erewhonians' attitude toward death.

"The Erewhonians regard death with less abhorrence than disease. They insist that the greater number of those who are commonly said to die, have never yet been born--not, at least, into that unseen world which is alone worthy of consideration.

"As for what we call death, they argue that too much has been made of it. The mere knowledge that we shall one day die does not make us very unhappy; no one thinks that he or she will escape, so that none are disappointed. We do not care greatly even though we know that we have not long to live; the only thing that would seriously affect us would be the knowing--or rather thinking that we know-- the precise moment at which the blow will fall. Happily no one can ever certainly know this, though many try to make themselves miserable by endeavouring to find it out.

"The Erewhonians…hold that death, like life, is an affair of being more frightened than hurt.

"They do not put up monuments, nor write epitaphs, but they have a custom which comes to much the same thing, for the instinct of preserving the name alive after the death of the body seems to be common to all mankind. They have statues of themselves made while they are still alive (those, that is, who can afford it), and write inscriptions under them, which are often quite as untruthful as are our own epitaphs--only in another way. For they do not hesitate to describe themselves as victims to ill temper, jealousy, covetousness, and the like, but almost always lay claim to personal beauty, whether they have it or not, and, often, to the possession of a large sum in the funded debt of the country.

"If a person is ugly he does not sit as a model for his own statue, although it bears his name. He gets the handsomest of his friends to sit for him, and one of the ways of paying a compliment to another is to ask him to sit for such a statue. Women generally sit for their own statues, from a natural disinclination to admit the superior beauty of a friend, but they expect to be idealised.

"When any one dies, the friends of the family write no letters of condolence, neither do they attend the scattering, nor wear mourning, but they send little boxes filled with artificial tears, and with the name of the sender painted neatly upon the outside of the lid. The tears vary in number from two to fifteen or sixteen, according to degree of intimacy or relationship; and people sometimes find it a nice point of etiquette to know the exact number they ought to send.

"Strange as it may appear, this attention is highly valued, and its omission by those from whom it might be expected is keenly felt. These tears were formerly stuck with adhesive plaster to the cheeks of the bereaved, and were worn in public for a few months after the death of a relative; they were then banished to the hat or bonnet, and are now no longer worn."

Monday, December 3, 2012

A little Kurtz-y to Death

Novelist Joseph Conrad was born on this day in 1857.

Born Jozef Teodor Konrad Korzenioski, in Poland, Conrad went to sea at 16 and spent 20 years there, first on French merchant ships in the West Indies, then on English ships, where he learned the language and traveled to Latin America and Africa. He drew on these experiences for much of his fiction; in 1890 he was the commander of a ship that traveled up the Congo River, the inspiration for Heart of Darkness.

He began writing in 1892, on a voyage from England to Australia, and in 1895 he left the British merchant service to become a full-time writer. He settled in London and married an Englishwoman.

Although English was not his native language, he is renowned for the subtlety and descriptiveness of his prose--despite the fact that he spoke the language all his life with a heavy accent.

In Heart of Darkness, the narrator, Marlow, recounts to his friends a trip into Africa, where he becomes curious about a man called Kurtz. He travels up the Congo River to reach Kurtz, an agent whom Marlow expects by his reputation to be a "universal genius," an "emissary of pity, and science, and progress, and devil knows what else."

As they near Kurtz's camp, they are attacked, and Marlow's helmsman is killed. They learn that Kurtz has made himself the natives' god and has decorated the posts of his hut with human skulls.

Marlow tries to get the seriously ill Kurtz away down the river, but Kurtz dies, his last words being, "The horror! The horror!"

Back in Europe Marlow tells Kurtz's fiancée that "the last word he pronounced was-your name."

Joseph Conrad died of a heart attack at age 67. His epitaph, taken from Spenser's The Faerie Queene, reads: "Sleepe after toyle, port after stormie seas, /Ease after warre, death after life, does greatly please."

In Heart of Darkness, Kurtz says:

"I have wrestled with death. It is the most unexciting contest you can imagine. It takes place in an impalpable grayness, with nothing underfoot, with nothing around, without spectators, without clamor, without glory, without the great desire of victory, without the great fear of defeat."

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Everybody loves fireworks

Author Robert Louis Stevenson was born on this day in 1850. He wrote:

"This world itself, traveling blindly and swiftly in overcrowded space, among a million other worlds traveling blindly and swiftly in contrary directions, may very well come by a knock that will set it into explosion like a penny squib. And what, pathologically looked at, is the human body with all its organs, but a mere bagful of petards?" -- Aes Triplex.

For more on Stevenson, see Today in The Cynic's Almanac

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Last Words, Ink.

Has anyone ever made a business out of writing obituaries for people before they die? The marketing brochure could read something like this:

To the Individual:

Why wait until you die? –Enjoy your obituary now.

· When you die, everyone will say nice things about you. Why not read them now?

· Why leave your loved ones the burden of writing your obituary?

· Give people something to remember you by: Your last words.

· Your obituary should be about you.

To the Family:

Why wait until you can't think straight? –Write your loved one's obituary now.

· Say what you've always wanted to say: Give your loved one the gift of your most cherished thoughts.

· Take the time now to arrange those thoughts – not after the fact.

· If needed, when the time comes, we will arrange for the obituary to be placed.

The typical, everyday obituary:

Solomon Grundy, age 77, of Nullsville, passed away Monday, October 22. Preceded in death by wife, Olive Grundy; parents, Fred J. Grundy and Prudence Grundy. Survived by sons, Greg (Millicent) Grundy and George Grundy; daughter, Priscilla (Marvin) Jones; brother, Octavius Grundy; sisters, Henrietta Harris, Genevieve Franklin, Eleanora Oswald; sister-in-law, Mary Grundy; brothers-in-law, Gerald Harris, Martin Franklin, Fred Oswald; grandsons, Jimmy (James), Jake, Larry and Calvin Grundy, Deke and Donald Jones; a host of nieces and nephews; other friends of the family; devoted pet, Zippy. Funeral service will be conducted on Thursday, October 25, 2007 at 1 p.m. in the chapel of Holy Moses Church in Grapevine, by Rev. Farley Trabue. Interment will follow in the Nullsville Memorial Cemetery. Visitation will begin on Thursday, October 25 at 9 a.m. in the Bunker Brothers Funeral Home, Nullsville. BUNKER BROS. FUNERAL HOME, 453-888-4532.

The Last Words, Inc. obituary:

Solomon Grundy, age 77, of Nullsville, passed away Monday, October 22. Known as "Solly" to his scores of friends, Solomon P. Grundy was a shining exemplar of Mark Twain's maxim that "We should so endeavor to live that when we die even the undertaker will be sorry." A chimney sweep by trade, he was the owner and operator of Chim Cheree Clean Sweeps for some 25 years. Born and raised in the Big Sky country of Montana, he loved the outdoors and made all the world his own, "'tween pavement and stars." He started up the ladder of life as an art student in Chicago, where he came to appreciate the beauty and vitality of art; he was a painter and a wood-carver in his private life, and he loved to give the gift of his creations to those he knew and loved.
"My father was a wonderful and gentle man," said his daughter, Priscilla (Jones). "He was a talented artist. His carvings of animals were cherished by everyone. He could have sold them for money, but he loved giving them away as much as he loved making them.
"He loved our mother more than anything in the world; in the more than 40 years I was around them I never heard him say a cross word to her."
Mr. Grundy himself often said that, in his family, in his work, in his whole life, he was the luckiest man in the world – "as lucky as lucky can be."
Solomon "Solly" Grundy is survived by, among others, two daughters and a son.

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

But leave the fire going

Civil War General Robert E. Lee died on this day in 1870.  His last words:

"Strike the tent."

Sunday, October 7, 2012

Or maybe: "My Poe soul"

 On this day in 1849, Edgar Allan Poe died.

"Quoth the Raven nevermore." -- Poe's epitaph.

It would have been elegant for Poe's last word to have been "Nevermore," in answer to the question he was asked on his deathbed ("Would you like to see your friends?"), but his dying utterance was probably the much more somber, "Lord help my poor soul."

Sunday, September 23, 2012

And Perry White said, okay, but don’t call me chief

Actor and worldwide heartthrob Rudolph Valentino died on this day in 1926. His last words:

"Don't worry, chief, it will be all right."

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

I'm asking for a reprieve

The idea that life is a term of penal servitude (The Cynic's Almanac, Sept. 18) is one touched upon, to one degree or another, by philosphers and writers from Plato and Saint Augustine to Schopenhauer and novelist Jonathan Franzen, whose The Corrections takes the subject as a theme.

Augustine said that our hearts are restless because this is not our true home. Jesus said as much. Go and sin no more, and perhaps you will one day be able to enter (or re-enter) the kingdom of Heaven.

None of us are without guilt, even as babes. How can that be, unless we have committed crimes elsewhere?

If we are all prisoners, how, then, should we be expected to act toward each other? Jesus said, of course, to love one another. But as criminals who can't recall their crimes, isn't it natural for us to be bitter, to think everyone worse than ourselves? Can we blamed for endlessly seeking some mean advantage? We can't help it -- we were born that way.

Saturday, September 15, 2012

And time uses mothballs

American novelist Thomas Wolfe died on this day in 1938. He wrote:

"Here, then, is man, this moth of time, this dupe of brevity and numbered hours, this travesty of waste and sterile action."

Friday, September 14, 2012

Dancing all the way

Dancer Isadora Duncan died on this day in 1927, when her scarf got caught in the wheels of a car she was riding in, pulling her out of the vehicle and strangling her. Her purported last words (although how she could say anything while being choked to death is a mystery lost to posterity):

"Goodbye, my friends. I go to glory."

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Walking the line, somewhere

The great Johnny Cash died on this day in 2003. He said:

"I wouldn't let anybody influence me into thinking I was doing the wrong thing by singing about death, hell and drugs."

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Remember 9/11

Anniversary of the terrorist bombings in New York City, 9/11/01.

"The belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary; man alone is capable of every wickedness." -- Joseph Conrad.

Friday, September 7, 2012

Well, then, let's bury the hatchet

Danish writer Isak Denisen (nom de plume of Karen Blixen) died on this day in 1962. She wrote:

"Man and woman are two locked caskets, of which each contains the key to the other."

On Sept. 6, 1959, actor Edmund Gwenn (he played Santa Claus in the movie Miracle on 34th Street) died. As he was about to die, he was aksed if it was hard. He said:

"Yes, it's tough, but not as tough as doing comedy."

For more about the relationship between men and women, see Today in Cynic's Almanac

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

We have survived

French scientist and philosopher Auguste Comte died on this day in 1857. His last words (referring to himself):

"What an irreparable loss!"

Also on this day, in 1905, author Arthur Koestler was born. His book, Darkness at Noon, was an indictment of Stalinist Russia. He once wrote:

“From now on mankind will have to live with the idea of its death as a species.”

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Then he's not the friend of all humanity

Humanitarian Albert Schweitzer died on this day in 1965.

"He who is the friend of all humanity is not my friend." -- Moliere.

Sunday, September 2, 2012

Make a hobbit of patience

Author J. R. R. Tolkein died on this day in 1973.

"Many that live deserve death. And some die that deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then be not too eager to deal out death in the name of justice, fearing for your own safety. Even the wise cannot see all ends." -- The Lord of the Rings.

Also on this day, in 2002, basketball coach Abe Lemons died. He once said:

"I don't jog. If I die I want to be sick."

Saturday, September 1, 2012

Well, everyone needs gainful employment

World War II began On September 1, 1939, ended on September 1, 1945.

"Man: An animal whose chief occupation is extermination of other animals and his own species." -- Ambrose Bierce.

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

We'll drink to that

English playwright John Fletcher died on this day in 1625. He was one of the most influential of the Jacobean playwrights; he collaborated with many others, most often with Francis Beaumont. He collaborated with Shakespeare on Henry VIII.

Fletcher wrote:

"Drink to-day, and drown all sorrow;
You shall perhaps not do 't to-morrow

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Thank you, Sir, may I have another life?

Today is the date (in the year 430 AD) of death of Saint Augustine. Here is a prayer of his:

"O, Divine Master, Grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console; To be understood as to understand; To be loved as to love; For it is in giving that we receive; It is in pardoning that we are pardoned; And it is in dying to ourselves that we are born to eternal life. Amen."

Friday, August 24, 2012

He already knew all the loopholes

British priest and author Ronald Knox died on this day in 1957. He was the Catholic chaplain at Oxford for many years and completed a translation of the New Testament. Evelyn Waugh wrote a biography of him.

On his deathbed, Knox was asked by a friend if he wanted her to read from his New Testament. He answered:

"No...Awfully jolly of you to suggest it, though."

On this day in 1899, Argentine author Jorges Luis Borges was born. On the subject of death Borges was prolific.

"To be immortal is commonplace; except for man, all creatures are immortal, for they are ignorant of death; what is divine, terrible, incomprehensible, is to know that one is immortal," he wrote. Also:

"The truth is that we live out our lives putting off all that can be put off; perhaps we all know deep down that we are immortal and that sooner or later all men will do and know all things."

On his idea of the location of our everlasing stomping-ground, Borges wrote:

"I have always imagined that Paradise will be a kind of library."

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Out of the Darkness

Woody Miller writes:  "On December 20th, 2009, I went to visit my son Jeff – it was his birthday. I entered his apartment to find that he was a causality of suicide. I lost a son and my world has been forever changed by that tragic event.

This year, on September 29th, I will be participating in the Out of the Darkness Community Walk for the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. The Nashville Music Row Walk will start at 10:00 am at Owen Bradley Park. Funds from this event will support education and research programs for suicide prevention, erase the sigma surrounding suicide and its causes, and encourage those who are suffering from mental troubles to seek treatment.

I think of Jeff every day – remembering him and doing good in his memory is something that helps me cope with the loss. To join me in support of this worthy cause please visit www.outofthedarkness.org and register with my team “Jeff Miller – Our Love”. Please consider donating to help – you can do so online. Donations of any amount will be appreciated.

If you have any question or need more information contact me at my email address - woody.miller@att.net or at my cell number - (615) 509-0975.

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

I'm afraid this quote just won't do

German playwright Bertold Brecht died on this day in 1956. He wrote:

Don't be afraid of death so much as an inadequate life.”

Monday, August 13, 2012

Not always a seer

On this day in 1946, author H. G. Wells (The Time MachineThe War of the Worlds) died. His last words:

"Go away. I'm all right."

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

"Twas beastly that she had to die

"Well, hello dere. Come here often?"
Actress Fay Wray died on this day in 2004. She played King Kong's love interest in the original film. (Accept no remakes!) The last line of that movie:

"'It wasn't the airplanes, 'twas beauty killed the beast."

Friday, August 3, 2012

Home is where the hurt is

Polish-born Joseph Conrad, a master of English prose, died on this day in 1924. He wrote:

"Going home (dying) must be like going to render an account."

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

You can lose your head if you think too much

Denis Diderot, French philosopher and encyclopedist, died on this day in 1784. He wrote:

"The philosopher has never killed any priests, whereas the priest has killed a great many philosophers."

Saturday, June 30, 2012

If you believe you'll have another beer, you won't write anything

Playwright Lillian Hellman (The Little Foxes) died on this day in 1984. She wrote:

"If you believe, as the Greeks did, that man is at the mercy of the gods, then you write tragedy. The end is inevitable from the beginning. But if you believe that man can solve his own problems and is at nobody's mercy, then you will probably write melodrama."

Saturday, June 23, 2012

And be a good pitcher, too

(Steven) Grover Cleveland, 22nd and 24th President of the United States, died on this day in 1908.

Reviews are mixed on Cleveland's two acts as President. He made some disastrous political decisions but even his critics priased him for his honesty, integrity, and courage of his convictions. His last words:

"I have tried so hard to do right."

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

I'm taking someone with me

Blaise Pascal, French mathematician, essayist and philosopher, was born on this day in 1623. He wrote:

"We shall die alone."

Pascal himself died at age 39. In his Pensees, he had written:

"For after all what is man in nature? A nothing in relation to infinity, all in relation to nothing, a central point between nothing and all and infinitely far from understanding either. The ends of things and their beginnings are impregnably concealed from him in an impenetrable secret. He is equally incapable of seeing the nothingness out of which he was drawn and the infinite in which he is engulfed."

Monday, June 18, 2012

Happy to have known you

Legendary actress Ethel Barrymore died on this day in 1959, at the age of 80. Her reported last words:

"Is everybody happy? I want everybody to be happy. I know I'm happy."

Sunday, June 17, 2012

Death, his bosom friend

Joseph Addison, English politician and co-author with Richard Steele of two famous periodicals, The Tatler and The Spectator, died on this day in 1719. His highly apocryphal last words were:

"See in what peace a Christian can die."

These were supposedly uttered as a challenge to his stepson, Lord Warwick. However, as there is no evidence that Warwick led anything but a blameless existence, the tale is probably a romance.

Addison did, indubitably, say or write the following:

"I have somewhere met with the epitaph on a charitable man which has pleased me very much. I cannot recollect the words, but here is the sense of it: ''What I spent I lost; what I possessed is left to others; what I gave away remains with me.'"

"The fear of death often proves mortal, and sets people on methods to save their lives, which infallibly destroy them."

"How beautiful is death, when earn'd by virtue!"

"We are always doing something for posterity, but I would fain see posterity do something for us."

And this, not apropos of death but just some words to remember:

"There is no defense against criticism except obscurity."

Saturday, June 9, 2012

A hero of my life

Charles Dickens, the world's greatest novelist (in my highly subjective opinion), died on this day in 1870. He was 58.

Dickens captured my imagination and my compulsive attention when I was a kid of 12 or so. One summer I lay on the couch day after day, reading his books one after the other.

"There is perhaps no person living who can remember reading David Copperfield for the first time," wrote Virginia Woolf, but I can, vividly. It was the work of Dickens' that I first essayed, and I was a goner after the opening pages, when David talks about the father he never knew, buried in the churchyard close by their house, and "the indefinable compassion I used to feel for (him) lying out alone there in the dark night."

(My own father had died a couple of years before.)

I re-read Dickens through high school, and in college I had a Dickens seminar, during which our professor would expound, noteless, for three hours at a stretch, twice weekly, about the man and his work. It was a thrilling experience -- here was someone even more in love with Dickens than I was. He particularly loved Copperfield , probably because Dickens himself loved the novel above all his others. ("I have my favourite child, and his name is David Copperfield," Dickens wrote.)

What Woolf meant was that reading this particular novel of Dickens is one of those timeless experiences:

"Like Robinson Crusoe and Grimm's Fairy Tales...Pickwick and David Copperfield are not books, but stories communicated by word of mouth in those tender years when fact and fiction merge, and thus belong to those myths and memories of life...

"We remodel our psychological geography when we read Dickens...What we remember is the ardour, the excitement, the humour; the oddity of people's characters; the smell and soot and savor of London; the incredible coincidences which hook the most remote lives together; the city, the law courts; this man's limp, that man's nose; some scene under and archway or on the high road; and above all some gigantic and dominating figure...stuffed and swollen with life."

Contrary to his wish to be buried in Rochester Cathedral, Dickens was laid to rest in the Poets' Corner of Westminster Abbey. The inscription on his tomb reads:

"He was a sympathiser to the poor, the suffering, and the oppressed; and by his death, one of England's greatest writers is lost to the world."

"Dickens did not merely believe in the brotherhood of man in the weak modern way," wrote G. K. Chesterton; "he was the brotherhood of man, and knew it was a brotherhood in sin as well as in aspiration."

Thursday, June 7, 2012

And excuse me, Mr. Coolidge

Writer and wit Dorothy Parker died on this day in 1967. An epitaph she had proposed for herself:

"Pardon my dust."

Parker was cremated, and her ashes remained unclaimed for more than 20 years. In her will, Parker bequeathed her estate to the Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Foundation. In 1988 the NAACP claimed her remains and placed them in a memorial garden outside their Baltimore headquarters.

A famous Parker mot: After being told that former President Calvin Coolidge had died, she said:

"How could they tell?"

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

So sorry, baby

American novelist Stephen Crane (The Red Badge of Courage) died on this day in 1900, of tuberculosis. He was 29.

"We should weep for men at their birth, not at their death." -- Montesquieu.

Monday, June 4, 2012

Lighting our way to dusty death

Giacomo Girolamo Casanova (de Seingalt) died on this day in 1798. He gave his name to a type of adventurous and romantic lover. His last words:

"I have lived as a philosopher and die as a Christian."

Also on this day, in 1910, the author O'Henry (William Sidney Porter) died. His last words?

"Turn up the lights, I don’t want to go home in the dark."

Sunday, June 3, 2012

He killed people with his paradoxes

Author Franz Kafka died on this day in 1924. On his deathbed (he died of tuberculosis) he begged his doctor to administer a dose of morphine to end his suffering:

"Kill me, or else you are a murderer!"

After his death, his works were not burned, as was his specified wish, thus we have some of the world's greatest literature, including the beautiful long short story, "Metamorphosis."

Saturday, June 2, 2012

Then I'll just owe you a cock

Feeling philosophical today. The last words of Socrates, before he quaffed his hemlock:

"Crito, I owe a cock to Asclepius. Will you remember to pay the debt?"

To read about a fictional death presented by an author born today, visit Today in Cynic's Almanac

Friday, June 1, 2012

Content forever now

Helen Keller died on this day in 1968.

"Everything has its wonders, even darkness and silence," she said, "and I learn whatever state I am in, therein to be content."

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Whale of an ending

Film director James Whale (the original Frankenstein) died on this day in 1957, a suicide. He left this note:

"The future is just old age and illness and pain.... I must have peace and this is the only way."

For a fictionalized look at Whale as an old man, check out the great movie, Gods and Monsters.

Sunday, May 27, 2012

There'll be a pop quiz in Hell

French grammarian Dominique Bouhours died on this day in 1702. His last words:

"Je vais ou je vas mourir, l'un et l'autre se dit ou se disent." ("I am about to--or I am going to--die; either expression is correct.")

To read about another Frenchman interested in words, whose birth date is today, visit Today in Cynic's Calendar

Saturday, May 26, 2012

Tell my wife that

German philosopher Martin Heidegger died on this day in 1976. He wrote:

"Every man is born as many men and dies as a single one."

Monday, May 21, 2012

Been dying to talk to you

Obit in the local paper the other day with a picture of the deceased talking on his cell phone. Maybe he'll be buried with it, so as to stay in eternal touch with everyone on his list.

Some time ago there was one of the dead guy at his desk, pen in hand and phone cupped to his ear. Maybe he was the one person who did say on his deathbed:

"I didn't spend enough time at the office."

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Tardiness is the worst crime

Author Daniel Defoe (Robinson Crusoe) died on this day in 1731. He wrote:

"The best of men cannot suspend their fate:
The good die early, and the bad die late

Defoe himself was 70 when he died.

Friday, April 13, 2012

Out of the Darkness

   "On December 20, 2009, I went to visit my son Jeff – it was his birthday.  I entered his apartment to find that he was a casualty of suicide.  I lost a son and my world has been forever changed by that tragic event.

   "This year on September 29th, I will be participating in the Out of the Darkness Community Walk for the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention.  The Nashville Music Row Walk will start at 10:00 am at Owen Bradley Park.  Funds from this event will support education and research programs for suicide prevention, erase the stigma surrounding suicide and its causes, and encourage those who suffer from mental troubles to seek treatment.

   "I think of Jeff everyday – remembering him and doing good in his memory is something that helps me cope with the loss.  To walk with me for this worthy cause please visit www.outofthedarkness.org and register with my team “Jeff Miller – Our Love”. 

   "Please consider a donation – you can do so online.  At the before mentioned web site or at http://afsp.donordrive.com/participant/wmiller  Donations of any amount are appreciated.

   "With God’s help maybe we can help someone, somewhere.   No one should experience what it feels like to be so sad you wake up crying. 

"Thank you for your support.

Woody Miller"

Sunday, March 18, 2012

He gave them the cold shoulder

We forgot to mention yesterday that it was the anniversary of the death of Captain Lawrence Oates, who perished March 17, 1912, while a member of Robert F. Scott's ill-fated expedition to the South Pole.

Scott and his party had reached the Pole on Jan. 18, only to find that a rival group led Roald Amundsen had reached it a month earlier. Heading back to base camp, the devastated men ran out of food and water.

Oates left the party and walked -- or crawled -- willingly to his death, some say in order that his comrades might have a better chance to live. Even so, Scott and every one of his men died. (For a dissenting view, go here)

Oates' last words were:

"I am just going outside and may be some time."

Friday, March 16, 2012

My Lai was their lie

The My Lai Massacre occurred on this day in 1968.

Led by Lieutenant William L. Calley, a platoon of American soldiers entered the village of My Lai 4 on a search-and-destroy mission on the morning of March 16. Instead of guerrilla fighters, they found unarmed villagers, most of them women, children and old men.

The soldiers had been advised before the attack by army command that all who were found in My Lai could be considered Vietcong or active Vietcong sympathizers, and told to destroy the village. Still, they acted with extraordinary brutality, raping and torturing villagers before killing them and dragging dozens of people, including young children and babies, into a ditch and executing them with automatic weapons.

The massacre reportedly ended when an Army helicopter pilot, Warrant Officer Hugh Thompson, landed his aircraft between the soldiers and the retreating villagers and threatened to open fire if they continued their attacks.

The events at My Lai were covered up by high-ranking army officers until the following March, when one soldier, Ron Ridenhour, heard of the incident secondhand and wrote about it in a letter to President Richard Nixon, the Pentagon, the State Department, the Joint Chiefs of Staff and various congressmen. The letter was largely ignored until later that year, when investigative journalist Seymour Hersh interviewed Calley and broke the story. Soon, My Lai was front-page news and an international scandal.

In March 1970, an official U.S. Army inquiry board charged 14 officers, including Calley and his company commander, Captain Ernest Medina, of crimes relating to My Lai. Of that number, only Calley was convicted. Found guilty of personally killing 22people, he was sentenced to life imprisonment. Upon appeal, his sentence was reduced to 20 years, and eventually to 10. Seen by many as a scapegoat, Calley was paroled in 1974 after serving just one-third of his sentence.

"Neither the sun nor death can be looked upon steadily." -- La Rochefoucauld.

Thursday, March 15, 2012

Preceded by "I et earlier"

Today is the Ides of March.

On this day in 44BC, Julius Caesar was assassinated on the steps of the Senate in Rome.

Caesar's last words are a matter of debate among scholars and historians. As Shakespeare has it, they were "Et tu, Brute?" ("You too, Brutus?"), followed by "Then fall, Caesar."

Shakespeare evidently read the Roman historian Suetonius, who wrote that Caesar's last words were the Greek phrase "καὶ σύ, τέκνον;" (roughly, "You too, my child?")

Plutarch said that Caesar said nothing, and pulled his toga over his head when he saw Brutus among the conspirators.

Monday, March 12, 2012

Family estate vs. family cemetery

What is a family estate?

A family estate serves the same purpose as the old family cemetery where a family of loved ones are buried, or entombed, together in a particular place. However, there are still some differences between a family estate and a family cemetery.

A family estate allows a family to have as many burial spaces or mausoleum crypts as desired so that generations of family members can be buried together. The main difference is that in a family cemetery, someone in the family must be responsible for the upkeep and maintenance of the cemetery. Often, over the years, these cemeteries may become neglected, even abandoned. We see these forlorn specimens all the time as we drive through the countryside.

A family estate, arranged through a funeral home, can be maintained forever without the assistance of the family. Also, the family can choose mausoleum entombment instead of burial.

(Courtesy of Harpeth Hills Memory Gardens and Funeral Home, 9090 Highway 100, Nashville, TN. 615-646-9292.)