Blessed Memorial Day

     Even though Penwasser Place is viewed in most of the civilized world and New Jersey, the following will probably only make sense to Americans (like NASCAR).  But, hey, by all means hang around if you wish.

 

Happy Memorial Day!

     I wonder how many of us say that without realizing the last Monday in May is really not about the unofficial start of summer?

    NOTE:  Yes, yes, yes, I know.  June, July, and August are pretty cold in the Southern Hemisphere, which sounds like a crappy deal for our friends down under.  Until you stop to consider they also don’t have Trump.  Then, it’s kind of a wash.

    Lost among backyard barbecues, fireworks (for those looking to get a jump on Independence Day...and bug the shit out of their neighbors), trips to Jersey beaches (to watch the annual washing ashore of mob hits), and tropical storms (in Florida) is the true purpose behind Memorial Day.

    Originally called Decoration Day, the recognition of those who gave their lives in the recent Civil War was officially proclaimed on May 5th, 1868, by General John Logan of the Grand Army of the Republic (weren’t they all full of themselves?).  

"Plus, I had a killer mustache. 
Take that, Sam Elliot!"

    Planned for May 30th, it drew former foes together to plant flowers and otherwise spruce up graves of war dead from North and South alike at Arlington National Cemetery.

    Fun Fact:  Arlington National Cemetery sits on the site of property once owned by Robert E. Lee. 

 

Man, talk about an "FU!" to the general of the Army of Northern Virginia, huh? 

    To be sure, women in the South were also “decorating” gravesites of their dead from the “Great Cause.”  In fact, some sources state that those practices even predated the end of the war.  What’s more, some states in Dixie even had their own Decoration Days, mostly in May. 

    NOTE:  For my non-American friends (and products of the West Virgnia school system), the American Civil War (or “War of Northern Aggression”-sheesh, those people can really hold a grudge) took place between 1861 and 1865 between the “North” and the “South.”  I could bore you with the whys, whens, and whats about one of my country’s most horrific conflicts, but I won’t (no sense cracking a book).  Let’s just put it this way:  a lot of people died and the blue team won.  Oh, and it wasn’t technically a “civil” war.  Because, let’s face it, there’s nothing civil about getting your head blown off by a cannon ball.  

    Incidentally, if we have another intranational bloodbath, it will be an actual civil war, though.  So we have that going for us.

"Which is nice."

    Decoration Day remained an observance of Civil War dead up until after the First World War.  Following history’s most idiotic conflict (which didn’t end up being the “war to end all wars,” after all), 

"Tell me about it. 
We were stuck with a shitload of tee shirts."

it was decided that May 30th would be set aside to honor all American war dead.

    The name, however, stuck until it officially changed to Memorial Day in 1967.  No matter what it was called, though, Americans throughout the nation took time out to honor those who had fallen in service to their country.

    What seemed to many to be a civic duty began to fade after Congress passed the Holiday Act of 1971.  An effort to consolidate some federal holidays into three-day weekends, it shifted Memorial Day to the last Monday in May.  The inexorable transformation from solemn tribute to summertime bacchanal had begun.

    I try my best not to be a crank about the avalanche of car commercials, barbecue tips shows, or “ABBA to ZZ Top-The Memorial Countdown of the 500 Most Popular Hits of the 70s, 80s, 90s, and Whatever the Frik We Call the 21st Century!”  It’s hard not to get caught up in the hoopla of a country poised at the brink of gloriously warm weather (sorry, Aussies) and summer reruns.  Hey, I like to walk around with my shirt off and scare wildlife like any other middle-aged guy.

"Son of a...NOT AGAIN!!!!"

    Still, I remember when Memorial Day used to be about the Soldier, Sailor, Airman, Marine, Coast Guardsman, and whatever the  Space Force calls themselves.  

"We call ourselves fabulous!"

    Parades, wreath-layings, air shows, flag-raisings:  those were what I remember.

    But, if I think back really hard, I also remember my father incinerating hot dogs on the grill while listening to Best of the Ventures on his 8-Track player.  All while we played fetch with our dog-using my little brother’s bathing suit.  When we weren’t playing catch with the Lawn Darts.

    Those are all happy memories.

Even the time Uncle Don strayed into the field of play

    So, when I get up Monday morning, I’m going to proudly fly my flag.

    It is then when I’ll remember.

    Then, I’ll see if I can cook a hot dog better than my dad.

The bar is pretty low, after all.

    Now that I think of it, I guess the saying fits:

    Happy Memorial Day!

    And thank you.       

The Great Sequel to the Great Xerxes the Great Sequel

We continue.... 

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

 

"Yep. That poof."

   First concentrating on Sparta (Athens was still 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 to be a disaster because, despite outnumbering their foe, the Persian warships were no match for the maneuverable little Greek vessels.  

And 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.

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. 

Wrong King of Kings

    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

This'll Make No One Happy

     Sorry.

    But I yam what I yam. 

    As promised (threatened), there will sometimes be a serious post or two here at Penwasser Place.  Not nearly as many as there were when this blog was known as Stuff and Nonsense.  But, I’ll occasionally feel compelled to wax eloquent.

    Or whatever you call this.

    Anyway, as I informed those who took the time to read this blog back in November, I chose not to vote for Trump.  Mind you, I didn’t vote for Harris, either.  The way I looked at it, those two were impossible choices.  One was an Orange Clown, the other a cackling imbecile. 

"So, what I hear you saying is that, in your opinion, an imbecile can be cackling, or not cackling, which further directs me to the realization that vocalization is the key component behind your determination of the merits of someone who would otherwise be known as a person with a limited intellect." 

"Come on, man!  I have no idea what the fuck you just said. 
And I often forget who I am.  Who am I?  No joke."

    So, I wrote in Ron De Santis, knowing full well how much of a waste that was.  Of course, De Santis endorsed the Donald.  But, I couldn’t do it.

Interestingly, we haven't head boo from the Florida governor since inauguration.

    Anyway, I couldn’t look in the mirror, knowing I had picked the lesser of two evils.

    Considering the lesser of two evils is still evil.

I first made this during the 2016 primaries. 
His mouth is still open. 

    I’m a Conservative, but I am not a fan boy.

Or cultist.

    I believe in merit, giving people a hand-up not a handout, secure borders, throwing people out of my country who entered here illegally, and not pissing my money away on BS initiatives, especially overseas.

I'm talking to you, Iraqi Sesame Street

       There are cult members and assholes on both sides of the aisle.  I also believe that, if people talked face-to-face, there wouldn’t be nearly the acrimony you see on social media. I pray this is so.

    Frankly, I just want me and my family to be left alone.

    To be honest, I approve of most everything Trump has done.  If Harris were elected, in my opinion, this country would have continued down the suicidal road of open borders, dangerous social engineering in the military, pediatric transgenderism, and taxpayer funding of the ridiculous.

Including whatever TF this is.

    However, I do not approve of everything orange.  The narcissistic bombast has gotten too much.  The reason I couldn’t vote for him is that I feared the social upheaval which would accompany his ascendancy to the White House.  Of course, similar reactions could have been realized with any Republican president.  But, those afflicted with Trump Derangement Syndrome have made it worse.

    At least as of this writing, I fear for the Republic.  I curse Joe Biden and I curse the cowards in the Democratic Party who couldn’t do better than a blithering idiot.

     

"And a tampon in every pot."

    Likewise, I curse the Republican Party (by the way, I am not a Republican) for giving us such a polarizer.

    I voted for him in 2016 and wanted to defend him.  But, in four years, I just couldn’t do it.  So, in 2020, I went Libertarian.

Would've gone Libertarian in 2016, but my personal "Whack-A-Doodle" meter
was off the chart with this guy.

    Anyway, I’ll do the best I can not to engage in any fierce political debate.  I much prefer yukking it up (have you read my challenge posts?).  Sometimes, though, I can’t help shooting off my mouth (or computer keyboard). 

    I truly like most people, even those with whom I disagree.  So, comment if you wish, but I won’t debate. 

    I like you all too much to do so.

    So, whaddya say?  How about a silly post? 

Coming May 16. 
The Xerxes saga concludes. 
Finally.

The Great Xerxes the Great Sequel

   When last we met...I never finished my tale of Xerxes the Great from the A-Z Challenge, did I?

   Let’s begin again, shall we?

    When last we met, Darius the Great named his son, Xerxes, as his successor.  This was mostly because Xerxes was the son of 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 (NOTE: fancy word for “small strip of land between two bodies of water.”  Rhymes with “Christmas.”) of the peninsula of Mt. Athos, provisions (including granola, paraffin-coated matches, and sewing kits) were stored in the stations on the road through Thrace, and two pontoon bridges (known as “Xerxes 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 for some help from 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.  Just hold your horses.

    Well, I think you've had enough for one day.  We'll pick this story up on May 8th in the...

The Great Sequel to the Great Xerxes the Great Sequel  

So Long To All That

 

    Well, that does it for another year.  Before I realized it, the A-Z Challenge for 2025 has ended.  Personally, I’m tired, as daily blogging (with the exception of Sunday) is a tough slog.  It proved difficult to come up with sufficient wiseguy “snarkery’ to address twenty-six topics for twenty-six letters.

"No, no, no!  That's only twenty-FIVE letters! We need twenty-SIX!"
"What if I put in an 'X'?"
"How's it pronounced?"
"Like 'Z'."
"Aw, screw it.  That'll give us 26 at least."

    I don’t think I’ll continue with daily posts, though, at least until the 2026 challenge.  Primarily, because I don’t have the time to do so.  The effort I put into these posts has taken me away from working on my book.  Which, when finished, will net rich rewards via untold amount of royalty money.

Royalties

    Secondly, and almost as importantly, very few people have the time devote to reading daily posts.  At least huge ones.

   Even though Penwasser Place can be laugh-out-loud funny.

    I did enjoy working my way though relatively obscure bits of history.  I may do so in the future, although I will also include topics other than trips into the often-murky past.  I’ll also write a few “serious” posts, although they’ll be outnumbered by the silly.

"Well, I certainly hope so."

    I also very much enjoyed getting to know a couple of new people.  You’re the reason why I wanted to do this thing in the first place.  To those who did, thank you for visiting.

    Finally, I’d like to extend my sincere thanks to my regular followers, Alex, Chris, Liz, and Birgit.  Why you’ve stuck with me all these years is unfathomable.  Maybe there’s a bit of masochism there?  In any case, I thoroughly enjoy your blogs and look forward to the future.

    So, anyway, this is Al Penwasser (or Ken…whatever) checking out until next time.

    Which will be a continuation of the story of Xerxes the Great.

Remember, this is the Hollywood Xerxes.

    In a few days or so.

    So you have that going for you.

"Which is nice."