Advent abuse by the Knights of Columbus

Headlines from my Advent photo essay on Facebook: Knights of Columbus, among other liturgically-incorrect horrors, straps the infant Jesus to his cradle! Cat sleeps peacefully under a Christmas tree! Contest for identifying the origins of an unusal Christmas tree skirt!

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37 fun factoids, and their witty ripostes

This list was circulated by a friend in my office in 2003, with my comments in italics. It must have been a slow day!

1. The longest one-syllable word in the English language is “screeched.”

I thought it was “sthwootsched.”

2. "Dreamt" is the only English word that ends in the letters "mt"

Wrong again: also “verklemmt” and “bemt” (as in “Get bemt”).

4. The symbol on the “pound” key (#) is called an octothorpe.

“Enter your six-number password, followed by the octothorpe key.”

5. The dot over the letter ‘I’ is called a tittle.

Alternatively, when you tell on somebody, but it’s only a small offense, that's “tittling.”

6. Ingrown toenails are hereditary.

Not surprising, since heredity by definition is ingrown.

8. “Underground” is the only word in the English language that begins and ends with the letters “und.”

The collector of factoids didn't do his/her homework: also “underhandund,” “undergarmund,” “undefendund.”

12. The longest place-name still in use is “Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateaturipukakapi-kimaungahoronukupokaiwe-nuakitnatahu,” a New Zealand hill.

More sloppy research: it’s a town in eastern Germany called “Friedrichswusterhavellandischersaechsischererzgebirgischer-oberniederfreiburghaven-unter-den-eichen-an-der-Oder.” (The town used to be called “Glopp,” but changed the name to discourage out-of-towners from asking directions.)

13. Los Angeles’s full name is “El Pueblo de Nuestra Senora la Reinade los Angeles de Porciuncula” and can be abbreviated to 3.63% of its size, “L.A.”

That’s really interesting. It’s also a little known fact that Cleveland’s full name is “The Depopulated New American City Surveyed by Moses Cleveland on America’s North Coast of Our Lady the Queen of the Angels of Corporate Flight.”

14. An ostrich’s eye is bigger than its brain.

I’d hate to be a vet doing a frontal-lobotomy on an ostrich. By the way, did you know cats have the largest eyes in proportion to their face of any mammal?

15. Tigers have striped skin, not just striped fur.

Yikes! How many scientists died trying to shave tigers to find this out?

18. Donald Duck’s middle name is Fauntleroy.

(I’m editing out my original response. You’ll have to fill it in.)

19. The muzzle of a lion is like a fingerprint: no two lions have the same pattern of whiskers.

As in fact octothorpe 15, the loss of life during the research into this must have been horrendous.

21. A pregnant goldfish is called a twit.

See below.

26. A goldfish has a memory span of three seconds.

Is that why the twits get pregnant so often?

27. It’s impossible to sneeze with your eyes open.

But it is possible to cry with your nose open.

31. ‘Stewardesses’ is the longest English word that is typed with only the left hand.

Conversely, “lopuyihinolomuup” is the longest English word that can be typed with only the right hand.

36. Emus and kangaroos cannot walk backwards, and are on the Australian seal for that reason.

You mean, they can’t step backwards to get off the seal when he flops into the ocean? A lot of them must drown that way.

37. Cats have over one hundred vocal sounds, while dogs only have about ten.

And their vocalization is superior in quality as well as quantity.

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Highlights from Craigville Colloquy

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The Royal Wedding

Buckingham Palace has released the official schedule for the viewing of the Royal Wedding at Lang Palace on Shaker Square.

5:30 a.m. (9:30 GMT)
The Lord Chamberlain, together with the cat of the household (Schatzi), rise and proceed to the kitchen.

A high-protein, low-carbohydrate breakfast is prepared for the diabetic cat. The breakfast is served.

5:50 a.m. (9:50 GMT)

Coffee is prepared.

The television apparatus is activated.

6:00 A.M. (10:00 GMT)

Coffee is removed to the sofa.

The cat completes the ingestion of breakfast.

6:05 a.m. (10:05 GMT)

The Lord Chamberlain rises from the sofa and prepares the injection of insulin for the diabetic cat.

The following prayer of Humble Access to the Cat is said:

"O Lord, inasmuch as Thou hast decreed that in many and sundry places, there should be by Thy design insinewed and insensate areas upon the nape of the neck of the cat, so that therethrough salutary injections may be administered without incurring the wrath of the cat, or without grievous injury upon said cat, so that the injected substance may be inwardly absorbed, ingested and metabolised by said cat, we praise Thee that Thou hast wonderfully and fearfully made this furry mammal, and we beseech Thee that, delivered from his affliction, he shall continue all his days in Thy goodness and favor. Amen."

6:07 a.m. (10:07 GMT)

The injection is administered, followed by a treat.

6:10 a.m. (10:10 GMT)

The Lord returns to the sofa and resumes the watching of the Royal Wedding, whilst the cat continues his morning ablutions.

6:20 a.m. (10:20 GMT)

The procession of HRH Prince William begins. The cat assumes his rightful position on the lap of the Lord Chamberlain of Shaker Square. At the fanfare, the cat responds with a purr.

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A Child's Yankee Christmas in Connecticut

by Andy Lang

On the first Christmas in New England, Indians arrived at the doors of the Pilgrims’ rustic meeting house bearing barrels of a spiritous liquor distilled from cranberries and pine needles. They found the church doors locked, and the entire community huddled inside their homes. Christmas, their ministers had told them, was a “paganish Mummerie of indecent Revells and the Werke of Antichrist, fit only for the deluded Hereticks of the Romish Persuasion.” So the Pilgrims spent the entire day reading their Bibles and petitioning God to cast the Pope of Rome into the Lake of Fire. Disappointed, the Indians returned to their villages, opened their gifts and drank toasts to the Corn God.

It was not a propitious beginning for a region whose Christmas traditions were later immortalized by Bing Crosby and the legions of New Yorkers who swarmed every December into towns and villages across Connecticut to experience an “authentic New England Christmas.” But by the end of the 1600s, the Puritans had reluctantly legalized the holiday, and an American classic was born.

Superficially, the traditional Christmas in New England resembled the familiar holiday celebrated everywhere in North America. But in fact, its customs had a radically different origin in the unique social and religious history of the region. Although today Christmas has been commercialized in New England as everywhere else, I still remember from my childhood in the 1950s the somewhat eccentric but heart-warming family rituals of a real “Yankee Christmas in Connecticut.” As a high school student, while these memories were still fresh, I wrote the following prize-winning essay for the Future Patriotic Journalists contest sponsored by the Legion of Sons of Veterans of Elective Foreign Surgery.

We children always knew Christmas was near when our teachers released us early from school one crisp December day and led us to the village green where we were allowed to paint the faces of the prisoners shackled in the community's stocks. Before long, the lawn between the Meeting House and the Grange was a magical landscape of bright colors!

But this was not the only splash of Christmas color: in fact, every fir tree was decorated with bright red ornaments, all resembling the letter “A.” The origin of this custom may surprise you. You see, the day before Christmas was the only day of the year when the Women Caught in Adultery, who had been banished to the wilderness, were allowed to return. Before they passed through the village gates, however, they were required to hang their scarlet letters on nearby trees—the first “Christmas trees” in New England. The Adulterous Women then were led in procession to the Meeting House where the minister harangued them for several hours about the Lake of Fire.

As Christmas Eve approached, the children of the village looked forward to one of our favorite customs of the season: the Winnowing of the Wiccans. (The tradition was originally called the Winnowing of the Witches, but the gender-inclusive term was substituted after passage of the Equal Repression Amendment by Connecticut’s General Assembly.)

Suspected wiccans (usually anybody who had a cat) were thrown into the river to determine their guilt or innocence. If they floated, they were proven to be servants of the devil and were summarily banished into the wilderness. But if they sank beneath the frigid waters, they were exonerated, and a special prayer was said in their memory. Our parents indulgently allowed us to jeer at the accused: this was the origin of the expression “Christmas Jeer.”

You can hardly imagine the excitement we children felt as we woke early on Christmas morn. Like children anywhere else, we rushed downstairs to see what was lying beneath the Christmas tree! Now, Christmas gift-giving in New England was a very different concept than in the rest of the country. That was primarily because we didn’t have a “Santa Claus.” Our minister told us that “Santa” was “an irreverent Invention of the deluded Dutch” inspired by “the fleshly Flummery of New Amsterdam.” But we didn’t feel deprived, because we had something much better: “Rant o’ Flaws.”

“Ranta” was a jolly symbol of the season. During most of the year, our parents told us, Ranta lived in the North Pole with his industrious helpers (called “deacons”) compiling lists of all the sins committed by children all over the world. Then, during the hectic shopping days before Christmas, Ranta appeared in our village—a cadaverous figure dressed in a long black gown, black skullcap and black silk stockings. How we cheered as he stalked through the village, fixing each of us in his accusing stare! One by one we were summoned by Ranta’s bony, pointing finger to climb up and sit on his skinny knee, there to be enraptured by his vivid stories about Jesus casting sinners into the Lake of Fire.

On Christmas eve, while we slept snug and secure in our beds, Ranta would sneak down the chimney and carry off the gifts our parents had laid out the night before. That was, in any case, how our parents explained the mysterious non-appearance of our gifts underneath the tree. But we had a wonderful time anyway as they described the Last Judgment Fire and Brimstone Chemistry Set, the Sorrowful Barbie Wailing at the Foot of the Cross, and all the other exciting presents they had bought for us!

In northern New England, children would wake on Christmas morn to find the fields outside covered in a wonderful blanket of fresh snow. These “White Christmases” were rare in the warmer climate of southern Connecticut, but we never felt deprived. We looked forward every year to the impenetrably thick fog that would roll in from Long Island Sound and immerse the village in a suffocating gloom pierced only by the laughter of children and the groaning of prisoners shackled in the village green. The fog was rank with the sulphurous smell of “rotten eggs” emanating from the polluted clam beds outside of town, so we called it a “Christmas Egg Fog.”

You can imagine our excitement as we hurriedly put on our buckled shoes and wide-brimmed hats and ran outside to play in the fog. But before long our parents would emerge and we would walk together as a family to the Meeting House. There, yet another treat was in store! The minister, no doubt exhausted by his all-night harangue of the Women Caught in Adultery, shortened his sermon from seven to only six hours! By the time we left church at three o’clock in the afternoon, it seemed as if hardly any time had passed. Still bursting with energy, we rushed back home eagerly anticipating our Christmas Dinner!

We always ate hearty meals in New England: my mother’s fried turkey wattle with lard drippings was famous throughout the county. But the Christmas feast was something special. At the center of the table was, of course, the steamed Christmas Cod garnished with stems and twigs. Plates piled high with boiled cabbage, seemingly endless stacks of duck jerky and bowls of savory nettle soup completed the festive scene. And yet, as we devoured the meal, we knew the best was yet to come: the special Christmas dessert, served only once a year, of cranberry and muskrat pudding!

Soon our plates were piled high with discarded cranberry pits and muskrat bones. But the fun didn’t stop there! The child who found the longest muskrat tail could look forward to a special treat: the privilege of leading the other children through the village for the final tradition of an old-fashioned Yankee Christmas—the Ridiculing of the Religious Minorities!

Originally called the Browbeating of the Baptists, who were once the only religious minority in our village, by the 1950s we had a variety of diverse minorities to ridicule. In addition to the Browbeating of the Baptists, there was also the Aggravating of the Agnostics, the Bullying of the Buddhists, the Character Assassinating of the Charismatics, the Confusing of the Confucians, the Eschewing of the Episcopalians (also known as the Avoiding of the Anglicans), the Harrowing of the Hebrews, the Mooning of the Muslims, the Leg-Pulling of the Latter Day Saints, the Loathing of the Lutherans, the Nagging of the Nazarenes, the Pummelling of the Papists, the Shunning of the Schwenkfelders, and so forth.

Finally, after an exhausting day of Christmas fun, we were ready for bed. We could hardly keep our eyes open as the family knelt down for the customary three hours of night prayers. After singing all 150 psalms, we prayed to God to keep mommy and daddy safe and to cast the Pope of Rome into the Lake of Fire. Then we climbed into bed, and almost immediately sleep stole across our young faces. We dreamed of painted prisoners and scarlet letters, of floating witches and sulphurous fogs, of cranberries and muskrat tails, and another magical Christmas was past!

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Nixon's the One!

I was going to change the title of this blog after Democrats swept the national elections in 2006 and 2008, but I'm glad I waited! Once again I am Blue in a Red state.

Speaking of Reaction, here's a memory from the summer and fall of '68, when, as a star-struck member of "Youth for Nixon-Agnew" (aka the "Nixon Jugend"), I took home from GOP headquarters in my home town a 45rpm record featuring the Nixon campaign song, sung by the immortal Connie Francis, with music by Moose Charlap and lyrics by Alvin Cooperman. The title was Nixon's slogan that year: "Nixon's the One."

Just to prove that you can't find everything on the Internet, I googled for the lyrics ... but they can't be found. So as a service to you, dear reader ...

... I'm transcribing them here from memory. Amazingly, I remembered the jingle accurately after 42 years. It's actually a cool big-band arrangement.



Stand up!
And let's strike the band up!
Who's lifted this land up?
Yes, Nixon's the one to go with.

Shout it!
The world's gonna to shout it!
There's no doubt about it!
Yes, Nixon's the one to go with.

Nixon,
Remember Dick Nixon.
The man who is fixin'
to lead us to WIN! IN! SIXTY-EIGHT!

Can do,
Americans can do,
with the man who knows how to:
yes, Nixon's the one to go with!
I said that Nixon's the One!

[Good swing band interlude, followed by the previous verses and ending with:]

I said, Dick Nixon!
[Something] Dick Nixon!
Ah yes, Dick Nixon's the One!

On the recording, the "[Something]" sounded like "Would you be Nixon?" But that can't be right.

In a future blog, I'll share how as a Young American for Fascism I made Nixon turn around and do his trademark two-arm victory wave in my direction, and other memories from the Summer (and Fall) of Nixonian Love.

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Lectionary Bible Bookmarks

Now that I've more free time that I'd anticipated, I thought I'd produce another sheet of Bible bookmarks with citations from "Daily Readings," the daily supplement to the Revised Common Lectionary for Sundays. These are easy to print out and use a bookmarks in your Bible for daily prayer or Lectio Divina. They're available here.

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Those Hoodlums

This was a delightful respite from the usual form of Internet scam. It takes fractured grammar to new heights. And what's with the address given (below) for the CIA?

Central Intelligence Agency
City in Carter Lane, next to St.Paul's.
https://www.cia.gov/

Att:

This is letter from the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) You was reported in this office last year that you have been dealing with some Nigeria Hoodlums through the internet, which we have monitored you and confirm that you have sent so much amount of money to some Hoodlums in the internet through Western Union and Money Gram all in the name of transaction.

You have been advice to quit every communication that you have with all those Hoodlums for the main time because we have marked some trace on there email address and we are trying to get them arrested and if you insist and continue with them you will be arrested, So right now you are advice to disconnect communication with them and give us details about them.

Get back to us as soon as possible.
Mr. Johnson
Central Intelligence Agency

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Tradition and Sexuality

Please note that this paper, which I wrote 12 years ago, does not reflect my current thinking on the subject. But I'm offering it for further discussion.

Freedom, including my freedom to love, therefore begins with the sovereign freedom of God who elects humanity to be God’s covenant partner, and who forms our lives so that we are called to relationships that correspond to the image of God’s faithful love for humanity. We are, in other words, created for community.

This is the starting point for an extended argument on same-gender relationships (and their place in the order of Christian community) which is now available on the website of Andover Newton Theological School at www.ants.edu.

The conference brought together evangelical, mainline Protestant, Roman Catholic, Eastern Orthodox and Jewish theologians, church historians and ethicists for a broad survey of where churches find themselves on this issue. Mine was an attempt to build a "centrist" approach that might offer hope to churches that sincerely want to include lesbians and gays in their fellowship (and to honor their relationships), but haven't been able to find a way within the boundaries of tradition.

Arguing within rather than against Christian and Jewish tradition is where I think the future of this debate lies. On this subject, we don't have to settle for an unproductive polarization between "traditionalist" and "liberationist" discourses. Personally, I find the boundaries of tradition to be liberating rather than confining: consider the evangelicals who in the early- and mid-nineteenth century both faithfully and creatively engaged the Bible in the struggle to abolish slavery. Faithfulness to tradition is not always synonymous with resistance to change.

What do you think? You're welcome to read the paper, and share your opinion here. It's a long read, by the way, but I hope worth the time.

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Pollsters got it right

Among the winners in yesterday's elections were three polling firms: Rasmussen, Pew, IPSOS (McClatchy Newspapers) and Opinion Research (CNN).

Rasmussen and Pew were right on the money, predicting a six-point spread at 52 percent for Obama and 46 percent for McCain. IPSOS and Opinion Research were off by one point, both predicting Obama would win 53 percent of the popular vote.

Forecasting an Obama win of 11 percent -- nearly double the actual result -- Zogby and Gallup proved to be the least accurate.

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Blue in a Blue State!

European newspapers are greeting Obama with ecstasy. German media in particular are shuddering with a delight not seen since the late edition of Voelkischer Beobachter on Jan. 30, 1933.

Der Spiegel
Obama erweckt das neue Amerika
Obama awakens the new America

Sueddeutsche Zeitung
Neuer historischer Zeitabschnitt
New chapter of history

ZDF (German Second TV)
Obama weckt Hoffnung in aller Welt
Obama awakens hope in all the world

Bild Zeitung
OBAMA: Warum ist er in der ganzen Welt ein Held?
OBAMA: Why is he a hero in the whole world?

But in a warning, perhaps, of things to come, Russian president Dmitri Medvedev chose to announce the deployment of mid-range ballistic missiles in Kaliningrad -- the Russian enclave between Lavia and Poland -- to counter the threat posed by the new forward batteries of U.S.-manned anti-ballistic missiles in Poland. Medvedev also canceled plans to withdraw three ICBM regiments from western Russia.

Medvedev did not mention the President-elect in his speech.

Why Russia would choose to force the issue the day after the Presidential election is beyond me. But it seems Biden was right: Obama will be "tested," and sooner than he thought. But Russia would have taken this step in any case: once the Bush Administration signed the missile deal with Poland in August, it was clear that the new system was really aimed primarily at Russia.

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My revenge on a spam-trickster

The spammer wanted to invest in medicine, poultry or real estate.

They're mostly blocked by spam filters, but I still occasionally graze through the junk mail folder to enjoy the hundreds of offers of easy money. A born-again widow in the Congo has only months to live and wants to deposit $14 million in my bank account becaue she has heard that I am "trustworthy" and will spend the money "for the relief of needy orphans." A bank official in Nigeria wants my help to smuggle $40 million from the dormant account of a wealthy foreigner who died without leaving an heir. If I agree, I can keep $8 million as a service fee. My email address was randomly attached to winning ticket #508-876-0X29UEK in the "Euro Super Lotto, Ltd." I simply need to share some personal information and my winnings will be wired directly to my bank. Discretion, of course, is required.

Here's one recent proposition that somehow evaded the spam filter. It's generally in proper idiomatic English: normally, spam fraud reads as if the spammer were translating from Chinese to English on Babelfish. But there are enough mistakes—a misplaced comma here, a capitalized noun there—to identify the spammer as anybody but "James David Mark" of "Lloyd's Chambers" in "Belfast."

From: mr james david mark [mailto:dmrjames1@gmail.com]
Sent: Wednesday, September 19, 2007 2:39 PM
Subject: INVESTMENT IN YOUR COUNTRY

Dear Partner,

I am in search of a profitable Real Estate or medical investment business in your Country and I would be glad if you can assist me in any way possible. Alternatively, we can both go into a joint partnership investment business once we are both satisfied with agreements reached and after we get to know each other better.

I would like to invest my family's finances, in your Country under your care and full management. Since I have never been able to visit your Country before, I
believe investing through you as a citizen will make it a lot easier for us. If you are interested, please get back to me and I will introduce you to our fund managers and bankers.

We will provide the finances required for the investment. Our first choice of investment is medical business which I believe never depreciates in value. Large scale poultry or Real Estate business will also be regarded as a good offer. The amount we have can provide us with any good business investment depending on how it is managed after you receive it.

I cannot send you more details until I hear from you and find out what type of investment ideas is more lucrative in your country at the moment.

Thanks and Regards,
James David Mark.
Lloyd's Chambers
Portsoken Street
BT1 8BN
Belfast, Northern Ireland.
Direct email:jdmark111@yahoo.co.uk

I don't normally take the time to play cat-and-mouse with these artless con artists, but I had a few minutes to kill. For good measure, I threw in a number of idiomatic oddities for realism's sake.

Dear Mr. Mark,

Allow me to introduce myself: I am Dr. Tiffany Glas Grafin von Scheissdorf-Buttersworth, a Citizen of the United States of America and sometime resident of Switzerland. I am Director of Endophrenology at the Cleveland Heights Clinic, a world-renown medical research center with branches into several countries.

I am also, in my spare time, co-owner with my late husband, one formerly Lionel Buttersworth, of a large Poultry Farm on 150,000 acres in Cleveland, Ohio (Cuyahoga Cheerful Chirping Chicken Farms, LLC ®). I am further a Member of the Directorate of Immobilien, Wohnungen & Hoizer für Hühner GmbH (ImWoHoHü), an international Real Estates Company based in Zurich, Switzerland, which was founded by my late grandfather, Hühnerich Meissen Porzellan Graf von Scheissdorf.

As you can see, I am involved in all of the three businesses in which you have expressed an interest: Medicine, Poultry Production and Real Estates. I therefore believe, that I can assist you in your quest for opportunities that are profitable investment undertakings in my Country.

Although, at present, the Cleveland Heights Clinic’s Endophrenology Center is not seeking Joint Partners, we can provide you with several investment options with Good Long-Term Growth Prospects. There are also lucrative opportunities with regard to Cuyahoga Cheerful Chirping Chicken Farms, LLC ®, and Immobilien, Wohnungen & Hoizer für Hühner GmbH. Both companies are undercapitalised, although fiscally Sound and competently Managed, and are interested in forming Joint Ventures with discreet and trustworthy partners, to finance ambitious expansive plans to our mutual benefits.

At the present, these three Sectors (Medicine, Poultry and Real Estates) are cusped for a historic Convergence in the international markets, so I consider your proposal to be both fortuitous and timely. Poultry, undoubtedly as you know, is right at the centre of this Convergence. Recent discovery of the medical benefits of the chicken fats, which are under review by leading Medical Journals but not are yet publicised to the Public, will indubitably create unpresidented Growth Opportunities in the Poultry Industry. These Advances in Science have provided Conclusive Evidence that consumption of large quantities of fatty chicken parts can manage the violent Mood Swings associated with the Bipolar Disorder, outside the sometime disabling side-effects of the psychotropical drugs that are now available on the Market. But the potential application of chicken fats to the burgeoning health cares industry do not stops there. Of particular interest to my partners, is the discovery that a particular compound found only in the fat of the chicken, when applied liberally to the skull, all but eliminates the condition known as Male Pattern Baldness which tragically afflicts hundreds of millions of the men, throughout the world.

I myself directed one of these Researches at the Endophrenology Center, which demonstrate the proper cranial locations for administration of the compound (which we are preparing to market under the name Chifatizol ®) in order to achieve the best optimal results. I am specially proud of our findings, which have imploded the myth that the Anti-Baldness Preparation must be applied to the Bald Areas of the head. To the contrary, we have learned that the emollification of Chifatizol ® to the areas of the head where the hair remains, affectively fertilises the surviving hair folicles, thereby encouraging them to multiplicate towards the Hairless Areas.

How, you may ask, will the Real Estates Sector benefit from these discoveries? Quite simply, the projected Windfalling for the Poultry Industry will require the construction of chicken coops on massive scales. Immobilien, Wohnungen & Hoizer für Hühner GmbH is at the cutting edge of the pushing envelope of this emerging market trend! We expect our Holistic Design Concept of Chicken Coop Co-ops ® to prove very lucrative when fully develop. Simply puts, this revolutionary approach allows the chickens themselves to allocate Living Spaces according to their natural Pecking Order, thus reducing stress in the population and optimising, a better quality Product.

Of course, I would request the highest discretion concerning these developments, since neither the recent discovery concerning the healing properties of chicken fat nor ImWoHoHü’s planned Move into the Chicken Coop Co-op ® business has been announced to the Mediums. Therefore, you will not find reference to these matters on the Google, since they are highly secretive. Also, the Cleveland Heights Clinic and the Cuyahoga Cheerful Chirping Chicken Farms ® website is temporarily Offline due to denial-of-service spam. We apologise for these inconveniences. Our IT department is working on the problem and are confidence, that we are returning to the Online within a matter of weeks.

I can tell from your enquiries that already you are knowledgeable of these trends, and will choose amongst your various investment opportunities wisely. I am awaiting further discussions with your fund managers and bankers and anticipate many favorable outcomes.

Yours Truly Sincerely,

Dr. Tiffany Glas Grafin von Scheissdorf-Buttersworth, Dr.habil.med.Wiss.
Director of Endophrenology
The Cleveland Heights Clinic

I'll let you know if Mr. "Mark," the mark, bites.

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