I Suppose I've Given Up

 

   You may not know this-of course you don’t know this, how could you know this?-I had cataract surgery on my right eye on March 23rd and my left eye on April 6th.  How in the world could he possibly have kept up such high standards during the A-Z Challenge, you’re probably asking yourself?

    Easy.  I’m that good.  I put the early April posts on delay.

    Plus, it wasn’t that hard.

    I have to tell you, the changes in my life are remarkable.  For the first time in 50 years, I can drive without glasses.

Yes, I'm that old. 
NOTE:  old picture of me still wearing glasses. 
What's more depressing?  I'm even older now.

    I’ve worn glasses since I was ten years old and no longer need them at all.  As a result of new eyes, whites are whiter

    and colors are more vibrant.

    Boy howdy, if this doesn’t sound like a laundry detergent commercial.

This may be racist. 
Ancient Chinese secret or no.

    Sure, instead of being nearsighted, I’m now farsighted.  The eye doctor could have fixed it so that I would have 20/20 vision, but it would have cost me an additional $4,000.  I ruled it out because, yeah, I’m now in my late 60s and couldn’t see pissing away that much money.

    I need reading glasses, but the kind you get off the rack at Walmart.

    Still, it’s a small price to pay to feel young again.

    Well, also in April, I decided I was growing tired of my trousers drooping to the point where a plumber’s crack was imminent.  No way I wanted to inflict that on anyone (who might confuse my rising moon with a credit card slot).

    A belt alone wasn’t getting the job done, so I had to look elsewhere.

    NOTE:  This condition was exacerbated by (probably) a growing belly and what my wife swears is a non-existent ass.  She is right about my keister.  It’s like I’m sporting a hairy welcome mat with a hole in the middle back there.

    So, I broke down and finally bought me a set of suspenders.  Even though I’m feel like an extra on Hee Haw, I have to admit that they get the job done.

Although, I've been told wearing a belt with suspenders
is a fashion faux pas.

    Still, visual renaissance notwithstanding, I feel like I’ve given up.

"Nonsense.  Welcome, friend."

    Although I can’t bring myself to wear the things outside of my shirt.  Rather, I clip them to my belt loop and toss a tee shirt over them so nobody’s the wiser.

   Except my wife.  

    "That's okay," she said.  "It's better than having to put up with a hairy welcome mat."

Of Beanies and Cannabis

 

The Great Sequel to the Great Xerxes the Great Sequel

We continue.... 

"What?  Maybe you were expecting that fruitcake from 300?"

 

"Yep. That guy."

First concentrating on Sparta (Athens was in the shower), the Persians clashed with King Leonidas at Thermopylae.  Even though initially rebuffed by fierce Spartan resistance, rock-hard abs, and an inexplicable Scottish accent,

"Inexplicable to yew, p'rhaps, ye daft git!"

the Persians defeated the 300 after a Greek traitor showed them the rear entrance (ancient Greeks being very familiar with rear entrances).

    Hey, don’t take my word for it.  Rent the movie.  It has some cool naked scenes in it.

And Cersei Lannister

    After Sparta, Athens was captured.  Some historians claim Xerxes ordered the cradle of democracy burned while Persian scholars claim he did nothing of the sort.  Who would be crazy enough to destroy a major center of trade and commerce?

Oh, I don't know. 
Anyone who would whip water a couple hundred times?

 NOTE:  To understand this, please visit the last Xerxes post.

    Xerxes then attacked the Greek fleet at Salamis in September, 480 BC.  This proved disastrous because, despite outnumbering their foe, the Persian warships were no match for the maneuverable little Greek vessels.  

With their relentless volleys of flaming gyros.

    Using the excuse of unrest in Babylon (who never got over the fact that Xerxes farted on their god)*, Xerxes sent most of his army home.  He left a token force behind under command of Mardonius, but they were overrun by a Greek Amish family and herd of sheep at Plataea the following year.  After a few Persian ships anchored at Mycale were destroyed, the Greek city-states once more felt the breath of freedom.

And freedom to kill each other

    In 465 BC, Xerxes was murdered by Artabanus, commander of the royal bodyguard (how frikkin’ ironic is that?). 

    What transpired next has led to confusion among historians (hey, cut them some slack.  It was almost 1,500 years ago and Al Gore hadn’t invented the internet yet).  Let’s see...Artabanus accused Crown Prince Darius of the murder and persuaded his brother, Artaxerxes (NOTE:  Persian for “sucky name”) to kill him.

    However, according to Aristotle, noted Greek philosopher, mentor to Alexander the Great, and owner of a chain of diners in the Peloponnesus, Artabanus killed Darius first before killing Xerxes with the help of a eunuch, who undoubtedly was cranky because he hadn’t had his coffee.  Or his testicles.   

    Then, once Ataxerxes found out who the real culprit was, he whacked Artabanus.

Good grief, my head hurts

    Seriously, though, who cares?  They’re all dead now, anyway.

     Xerxes-one of the great leaders of the ancient world, source of pride for the Persians (who really haven’t had that much to brag about since), and reason why the letter ‘X’ is pronounced like the letter ‘Z.’

    There’s more, to be sure.  For instance, I omitted his public works initiatives, construction projects, religious beliefs, and his 72-day marriage to Artossa Kardashian.  Yes, the King of Kings was much more than a megalomaniac bent on assimilation of all the peoples of the known world.

     But, like what Rosie O’Donnell looks like naked, I’ll leave that to your imagination.

    You may want to have that imagination steam-cleaned though.

*To understand this, please visit the first Xerxes post for the A-Z Challenge

Finally

The Great Xerxes the Great Sequel

Creative Artist Disclaimer:  The following is a repost of the second part of the original repost on "Xerxes the Great" which I wrote for the 2025 A-Z Challenge.  It's all very confusing.  

********

  I never finished my tale of Xerxes the Great from the A-Z Challenge, did I?

   Let’s resume, shall we?

    In Part I, Darius the Great named his son, Xerxes, his successor.  This was mostly because Xerxes' mother was the daughter of Cyrus the Great.  And because he threw paper when his older brother, Artobazan, threw rock. 

    Then, having finished construction of his tomb at Naqsh-e-Rostam, Darius made ready to invade Egypt.  As if the revolting Egyptians (go ahead, feel free, make a joke here) weren’t bad enough, he was totally hacked off because their pyramids were much bigger than his ziggurats.

Apparently, size mattered. 
Even in the ancient world.

  But, wouldn’t you know it, Darius died before the Susa AAA Office could finalize his Trip-Tiks and his reservation for a non-smoking room at the Saqqara Days Inn could be confirmed.

  Good thing he had that tomb built.

  Almost immediately (by “almost immediately,” I mean “a year”), Xerxes the Great (“the Great” being passed down to him in the will) put down the revolts in Egypt.  And, for good measure, he decided to jump ugly with the Babylonians.  If only because he didn’t really trust the Husseins of Tikrit.

  In 484 B.C. (i.e., “Before Cable”), he outraged the Babylonians when he violently confiscated and melted down the statue of “Marduk.”

Luckily, the statue of Marmaduke was spared.

    Either that or he farted on it.  The Greek historian, Herodotus, is unclear on that point.  Outraged by this sacrilege, the people revolted again in 484 B.C.

And again in 482 B.C.  when they remembered they were still pissed off.

  Because of his success putting down multiple revolts, Xerxes decided to go beyond mere King of Babylon.  In addition, he named himself “King of Persia,” “Great King,” “King of Kings,” “Sky King,” “King Kong,” “Don King,” “Chicken a la King,” and “King of Nations.”

  The little dude was full of himself, huh?

"Don't forget 'King Creole the Armless.'"

"It's a good look, amirite?"

  Meanwhile, as if there wasn’t enough on his plate, Xerxes took on the task of punishing the Greeks for their interference with the Ionian Revolt (I don’t feel like looking it up), the burning of Sardis, their victory at Marathon, and for effing up his order of baklava.

Yep, that's where the name of the long-ass race came from. 
Only without the Kenyans.

    From 483 B.C. onward, Xerxes prepared his expedition.  A channel was dug through the isthmus of the peninsula of Mt. Athos, provisions (including granola, paraffin-coated matches, and sewing kits) were stored along the road through Thrace, and two pontoon bridges, known as “Xerxes the Great Pontoon Bridges,” (totally pissing off their designer, Bargoas the Meek) were built across the Hellespont (which I sincerely hope was water).

  Soldiers of many nationalities made up the Persian army: Assyrians (getting their “freak” on), Phoenicians (who brought the alphabet and potato salad), Babylonians (who finally forgave Xerxes for that farting thing), and Egyptians (who were so bored they started mummifying cats).

A contingent of Jewish soldiers also came along to provide legal advice and dry cleaning.

 

     Setting out from Persepolis (after having to turn back because the damn Assyrians left the water running), Xerxes’ decided it would be quicker to go by way of the Hellespont.

The Phoenicians agreed to go only if there was a nice, clean gas station along the way.

     Resisting the urge to fire back, “Yeah, as if YOU people ever wash your hands,” the King of Nations grudgingly agreed.

     After all, they did bring the potato salad.

     The journey was an arduous affair, made even more so when they had to detour around construction of the “Death to America” monument and the fact that nobody remembered to bring the horses.

     Finally reaching the Hellespont, the strait of water which separated Asia from Europe (and crazy people from other crazy people), nobody remembered where they parked the pontoon bridges.  Unfortunately, by the time they found them, a fierce storm (taking Chief Meteorologist Chip “Hurricane” Achaemenes completely by surprise) destroyed the only way to Thrace (NOTE:  this is in Greece.  I looked it up).

     In a fit of rage, Xerxes ordered the Hellespont whipped 300 times and had fetters thrown in the water.

Despite Ahmed Fetters swearing he had nothing to do with the storm.

    Finally, after calling the Trojan AAA office, bridges were built and the army invaded Greece.  Threatening local people with the loss of their lands, rape of their women, and vicious titty-twisters, Xerxes picked up allies along the way.  Thessaly, Thebes, Argos, and France (who figured, “you never could be too sure”) took up the Persian banner as Xerxes moved to face his greatest foes, Athens and Sparta.

"THIS...IS...SPARTA!"

    Yeah, yeah, we get it.

    Well, I think you've had enough for one day.  We'll pick this story sometime later in the...

The Great Sequel to the Great Xerxes the Great Sequel  

Reflections

 

    As has been done in the past, I've gone ahead and assumed we’re supposed to write a reflections post.  Actually, “supposed” may be a bit extreme.  After all, it’s not like the Blogger police will come knocking at my door to ensure compliance.

"Good morning.  Blogger Police.   
Is there a Mr. Penwasser at home?"

     Oops.  My bad.

    Well, to keep me out of the hoosegow, I’d better get started.

"That is a shame. 
Me and the boys from the showers of Cell Block C would love to meet you. 
Eat fresh."

    Even though I have no clue what this has to do with the challenge....“Reflections” is a song by Diana Ross and the Supremes which was released in...huh? 

Wrong Reflections?
NOTE:  I won't comment on what they meant by "going down." 
I'm classy that way.

    Oops.  My bad.

    NOTE:  If you actually thought that I thought that the song was correct, then I have a few miles of a California high-speed rail line to sell you.  

"It ISN'T?  See?  This is why I have trust issues."

      

    Anyway, the 2026 A-Z Challenge was...uh...challenging (hey, after a month, my store of synonyms is pretty barren.  You're lucky to even get this).  Even so, it was fun to meet some new people.  Don't get me wrong, I cherish those who have been with me for years.  It's just that Penwasser Place has a big tent and everyone is welcome.

Not you.

      My theme this year was to select a different person from history whose name corresponds to the letter of the alphabet for that particular day.  If you haven't noticed it by this time, I cannot help you.

    I've learned some things along the way which helped me in this endeavor.  This has resulted in me being even more insufferable if I ever find myself in a conclave of nerds.

Like CPAC.

  

Or Furry Convention. 
I won't judge.

    One of the take-aways from the experience, though, is that it may be a good idea to include some kind of notice that will let you, gentle reader, know if something is true or some random-ass jive.

    For example, if you didn't know any better, you may have concluded that I was just being funny

"Funny?  Funny how?"

when I wrote that Truman didn't have a middle name, but just had the letter "S."  Frankly, I wouldn't have blamed you if you thought I was just writing nonsense (like Joan of Arc was supposed to go to the University of Paris).

    So, yeah.

    Also, Lissa remarked that more than a few of my subjects were obscure (you mean not everyone has heard of Bubar?).  She also remarked that I selected more than a few individuals who were not the most upstanding citizens (I'm talking to you, Mr. Quantrill).

    So, message received.  I'll do my best in the future to concentrate on people a little more well-known, like Yamamoto, and less on people such as Elagabalus, who was not only obscure, but a disaster as a human being.

And had a name which was a bitch to spell.

    I'm already thinking of the 2027 A-Z Challenge.  While I won't go with people from history, I may go with events from history.  Or just go with whatever strikes my fancy.

Which runs the risk of a bruised fancy.

    Finally, now that the challenge is over, I'm going to return to blogging every 5-7 days.  If you liked the tone of the past month, rest assured, the nonsense won't change.  If you didn't like the tone, first, why are you here?  Second?  I congratulate you on your mental health.

    With that, I'm going to relax in front of the TV and try to come up with a topic for the next edition of whatever it is you call this.

    Scheduling note:  I still have a couple parts left about Xerxes.

    Thank you for your attention to this matter.

"THAT'S MY LINE!!! 
Loser."

    Eff.
  

"Z" is For "Zeno"

 

“Z” is for “Zeno”

     When I was in the Navy, there was a Sailor in my unit who was a troublemaker.  Even though he was all of that, I couldn’t find a reason to get rid of him.  Let’s put it this way, if he just decided to not come to work one day, I wouldn’t have expended a huge amount of energy tracking him down.

    Back then (and perhaps now), the Navy had a zero-tolerance for drug use.  If you were caught using drugs, you were bounced out of the service.  Remember this, it will be important.

    When I was on leave one summer, my Chief gave me a call...  

    “Lieutenant, I have some bad news for you.  Our favorite person popped positive on his piss test.”    

    DEAD SILENCE    

    He came back on, “I guess that isn’t bad news to you, is it, sir?”

    I replied, “Thanks for letting me know, Chief.”

    I then hung up and danced into the kitchen, 

"HE'S GONE, HE'S GONE, HE'S GONE!!!!"

    Guess what his name was.  Thattttt's right.....

    This isn’t about him, though.

    Nor is it about Zeno of Elea, a pre-Socratic Greek philosopher famous for his paradoxes challenging the concept of plurality, motion, and the idea that cottage cheese is really cheese.

"Turn my back one minute and some jerk steals my clothes. 
Good thing I found these drapes."

    No, this is about the Eastern Roman Emperor, Zeno.

"At least I've got a shirt on."

    NOTE:  I apologize for saddling you with an obscure person for my last challenge post.  But?  “Z”?  My hands were tied.  I swear, I never heard of him until I researched Odoacer.

    Born in Isauria as Tarasis around AD 425 (CE to you politically correct ninnies), he adopted the Greek name, Zeno, as he entered public because it sounded less foreign.

"Yer shittin' me, right?"

Constantinople was called Byzantium.
Before it was called Istanbul. 

    He married the daughter of Emperor Leo I, Ariadne, in an effort to curry favor with leadership.  Sort of like a Jared Kushner kind of thing.

    Well, it apparently worked because together, they had a son, Leo II.  The little boy became emperor at seven years old when his grandfather died.  He ruled until 474 with his father as co-emperor (hey, someone had to feed him his Spaghetti-Os).  Sadly, when he died, Zeno became sole emperor.

Of the Eastern Roman Empire.
Before it was called the Byzantine Empire.
Snooty Romans.

    Before too long, Zeno became the victim of a palace revolt orchestrated by the Empress Dowager Verina and was tossed from office in 475.  However, after being helped by a couple generals disloyal to the now-ruling Basiliscus, he regained the throne in 476 where he remained until he died.

One mean-looking broad, amirite?

    Zeno’s reign was plagued by domestic revolts (the most significant, of course, being from Verina the Mean) and religious dissension (Eastern Catholics weren’t on speaking terms with Roman Catholics).

"They were always jealous of our hats."

    However, what he is best known for (at least for me.  After all, I’m the only one who counts because I’ve been writing these things) was his relationship with the Western Roman Empire.  The West, which was based in Ravenna, not Rome, was circling the crapper in 476.

    When the last Western emperor was deposed by Odoacer, Zeno was acknowledged as the de facto head of the whole shebang by Odo.  Zeno was then given the symbols of Roman power, some leftover ziti, 

And a timeshare at a Taormina beach.

    NOTE:  You can read more about this relationship in my “O” post if you feel like it.
    NOTE 2:  If you feel like it, you lead a sad life.

    Zeno died in Constantinople on April 9, 491 of dysentery, epilepsy, or a bad batch of Spaghetti-Os.

    He was succeed by the emp...oh, what do I care?  This is my last post for the 2026 A-Z Challenge.    

    Now pay up and go home.  

"Y" is For "Yamamoto"

 

“Y” is for “Yamamoto"

Domo Arigato, Mr. Yamamoto

    Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto was a Japanese admiral (that would explain the title) who rose to become commander of the Imperial Japanese Navy in the 1940s.

"How you like all my medals? 
Lemme tell you, the things you can get at Tokyo Walmart!"

    NOTE:  Incidentally, World War II was the last war in which the United States actually declared war.  So, there’s that.

    The admiral was born on April 4, 1884.  That he was not an admiral at birth and that he was born in Japan is probably obvious.

Unless you went to a place like this.

"Come on, man!  That joke is getting so old!  Tampon?"

    Even though he is best known for his actions during World War II (we’ll get to that), Yamamoto distinguished himself for his service in the Russo-Japanese War of 1905 and in the years leading up to the horrific global conflict.

    In fact, it was during the Battle of the Tsushima Strait where Yamamoto lost two fingers.

"SONOFAB...those are the fingers I use to pick with!"

 

"Oh, boo HOO, you big baby!  I lost me 'hole bloody arm, I did!"*

    After a war which Japan won (shocking the batcrap out of the Russians), Yamamoto went on to study at Harvard University and then was assigned to the Japanese Embassy in Washington as Naval Attache.
    I think that was covered in the movie, Midway.

Which also starred Mr. Miyagi

    It was through his experiences in America that Yammy learned a successful war depended on access to oil and a robust industrial capacity.  Neither of which they possessed.

They did have Godzilla, though.

    Therefore, he judged that Japan would not be able to prevail in a war against the United States.

    Yeah, imagine that.  We were pretty badass back in the day.

    Nevertheless, as his country began preparations for a war, the Yamster was all in on how best to overcome the hated Yankees.  

Especially after they won the 1941 World Series.

    Since Hollywood wasn’t yet anti-American, he knew he had to take action so he planned for a massive surprise attack on the American fleet in Hawaii.

    Of course, unless you went to the lea...okay, that’s enough with that, you would know that the attack on Pearl Harbor was deemed a great success (unlike that dreadful Ben Affleck movie) by many in his military.

"Hey!  What're you talking about? 
We were much better than Tora! Tora! Tora!"

"Yeah...no."

     Yamamoto, on the other hand, had his misgivings.  Sure, thousands of Americans were killed and several warships damaged or destroyed, but the American aircraft carriers were at sea.

    And the admiral knew that the next war would involve carriers and naval aviation.

What's more, the American Navy had USS Nimitz

     In 1943, Yamamoto scheduled a tour of Japanese military installations (Bob Hope, the Andrews Sisters, and Dorothy Lamour all declined) throughout the South Pacific.  Unfortunately, for him, American code-breakers had intercepted his plans.  

"Hey, any of you guys seeing this?"

    On April 18, his plane was shot down near New Guinea.

Old Guinea

"Who?  Penwasser? 
Yeah, we've been expecting that little smartass for quite some time."

    Interestingly, and I didn’t know this, there is no evidence that he ever said or wrote down the line for which he is most known.  At the end of the movie, Tora! Tora! Tora! (vastly superior to Pearl Harbor), he is shown walking the deck of his flagship as this quote flashes on the screen:

“I fear all we have done is awaken a sleeping giant and filled him with a terrible resolve.”

"Even so, let's see Affleck pull that off!"

    Pretty cool line, but you just can't trust Hollywood, amirite?  

    I'm beginning to think that The Final Countdown wasn't a documentary, after all.

   *To get the joke, you'll need to visit my post on "Nelson."