Geritol! fake programming always sucked, will always be present. Is it a rabbit? Colonel Sanders was born 124 years ago today. I did not know today would be Colonel Sanders' 124th birthday when Brad started reading Stanley Elkin's The Franchiser in Belgium this past week and then posted not one but two excerpts from The Franchiser and I then suggested an Elkin Excerpt Throwdown (and quickly unsuggested it). Bless Serendipity, have an Elkin excerpt from the scene when Ben Flesh, the narrator, meets Colonel Sanders in The Franchiser:
"Ben Flesh," Ben Flesh said, extending his hand."Colonel Sanders," the man said grudgingly.Ben pushed his hand out farther. The man took it finally and Flesh grabbed the chicken king's hand in both his own and pulled it towards his face. Before Colonel Sanders knew what was happening Flesh opened his jaws wide as he could and shoved as much of the man's hand inside his mouth as possible. He sucked the startled man's knuckles, ran his tongue along his lifeline, chewed his nails, the heel of his hand, tasted his pinky. The Colonel made a fist and fought for his hand, which Ben still held to his mouth."Lemme be. What's wrong with you?"And Ben could not have told him, couldn't have said that he'd pulled his first stunt, an engram of character and aggression. He stood before the Colonel with the man's hand still at his lips. "Finger-lickin' good," Flesh said. "It's true. What they say. About Dixie," he added lamely....
...Ben looked at him. The man had removed his glasses. He touched a corner of his mustache like a villain in melodrama and, as they all watched, began to peel it back like a Band-Aid of hair."What?" Ben said. "What's this?""I ain't him. I'm not he. I'm Roger Foster of Cedar Rapids, Iowa, and I own airport limousine services in three states.""You're not the chicken prince?""I'm Roger Foster of Cedar Rapids, Iowa," Roger Foster said."Then what - But why - You look - ""Certainly, I look. There's a basic resemblance. I enhance it. I'm a Doppelganger.""Does this mean you can't get the franchise, Ben?" Gus-Ira asked.
EATING FRIED CHICKEN
I hate to admit this, brother, but there are times
When I’m eating fried chicken
When I think about nothing else but eating fried chicken,
When I utterly forget about my family, honor and country,
The various blood debts you owe me,
My past humiliations and my future crimes—
Everything, in short, but the crispy skin on my fried chicken.
But I’m not altogether evil, there are also times
When I will refuse to lick or swallow anything
That’s not generally available to mankind.
(Which is, when you think about it, absolutely nothing at all.)
And no doubt that’s why apples can cause riots,
And meat brings humiliation,
And each gasp of air
Will fill one’s lungs with gun powder and smoke.
Today's obits also include one for Truett Cathy, the founder of Chik-Fil-A, the homophobic closed-on-Sundays fried chicken chain. What part of the chicken is the 'nugget' anyway?ReplyDelete
True story: When I worked as a librarian I had Saturday supervisory responsibility. One Sat when no one was there I took a break, walked across campus, and past the chapel where Col Sanders's funeral was being held. Place was jammed.
i don't recall having heard 'the ballad of colonel sanders' before - the message of'don't give up is one that is also conveyed by peter gabriel's duet with kate bushReplyDelete
Is the interest interesting?ReplyDelete
/ Dr. Christian Szell voice
This guy linked this post. I like it, maybe you will too.ReplyDelete
Where was this ‘internationalism’ or ‘solidarity’ from the Labour leadership? By contrast there was significant support from the Labour rank and file. They deserved better then, and they deserve better now, than a leadership that stands shoulder-to-shoulder with the Conservative Party against Scottish independence. Our Labour has gone; it probably died when it got rid of Clause Four, the ‘public ownership’ statement, which served as the radical conscience of the party. (I think of it as being the member of the band who kept it real. Nobody listened to him that much, because they knew that if he had his way they would never sell another record. But once he was kicked out, the band quickly lost its soul and now contests the ‘political’ version of Britain’s Got Talent every five years.)
"When ‘politics’ is mixed up with football, the end result is invariably the ossification of cretinism."Delete
Yes, thanks, that's another way of putting it.
finga lickin' good!ReplyDelete
This amused me.ReplyDelete
Also: Harlan Sanders' original restaurant is a semi-museum/shrine one town down the interstate from a town to which I travel for business a lot. The "semi" part? Well, it's half of a KFC, owned by Yum. It's pretty funny.