January 15, 2009 at 4:53 pm | Posted in Jonny R Goode | 2 Comments

“Information is dangerous,” claims Malcolm McDowell in Simon Kubrick’s classic laffer, ‘A Clockwork Orange,’ and he couldn’t be more correct, or deadly. Information is like a scorpion’s sting, except in words or sentences (information does not come in paragraph form, at least not yet.) Anyone familiar with a stock ticker will tell you that information is very long and very thin. One store of information is that secret hotbed of collective knowledge: old wives’ tales. One such ‘tale’ or ‘tail’ is that you can’t find a good man if you tripped over one. I beg to differ. I tripped over a very good man, and he painted my house. This is an example of ‘untrue’ or ‘eun-trui’ information. Another example of this kind of information is that you are a 35-year-old man. Absurd. Throw that piece of information out with the garbage. True information, however, is worth its weight in gold, more even. If you are the proud possessor of such information, then throw all that pesky gold out with the garbage. People who deal in information are called ‘spies’ or ‘guys’ or ‘The Italian Renaissance.’ Don’t trust them. Instead, buy yourself a convertible, and drive. Just drive forever. – Jonny R Goode


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  1. Loved your article, especially “Don’t trust, just drive”. It is true, information is dangerous. Have you taken your thoughts on this to the political level? I was looking in your side bar and see one on tort reform that I will check out. Here is an article I wrote:

    I also see that youhave an “Guide to Everything in the World on: Milwaukee, WI”, so maybe you can solve the riddle for me. I was in Milwaukee [downtown] a couple years ago and have never seen a city with so many public clocks. They were everywhere. On every building, news stand, bus stop ect. What gives? The only thing I could think of is that, at one time, the entire town had a problem with punctuality. Am I close?

    Hoping you have the answer.


    • Dearest Splash,

      Thank you for your inquiry. That’s a very astute question. And kudos to you for asking it in the comments section for the “Information” entry, for “Information” is what you are seeking and “Information” is what we are here to dispense. Your question reminds me fondly of my own trip to “Brewtown” that I recently undertook to research the entry. A problem with punctuality? It’s a good guess, and in fact the city did indeed have such a dilemma in the mid-1990s, and went through an unfortunate period during which their draconian mayor at the time was infamous for his “Punctuality Camps” to which the chronically late were sent, but the clocks actually serve a much different function. It’s an all but forgotten footnote in American history now, but for ten long years in the late 1950s and early 1960s, the “Brew City” became what can only be described as “unstuck in time”, to borrow the phrase. It began one snowy night in 1956, when reports came in from every citizen: every clock in the city, in every home and office and bar, had stopped, and was now running backwards. And indeed, time itself had seemed to lose all meaning. In some parts of the city children grew to be elderly men in the span of a day; in other places, trees withered down to saplings and water flowed uphill. In one instance a single Braves game took 17 days to play, the ball moving unimaginably slowly. All contact with the outside world was lost, as time in “Brewsville” became unpredictable and the city moved randomly through human history. While the rest of America was grappling with the Cuban Missile Crisis, “Brewton” was dealing with rampaging woolly mammoths and invading Visigoths. Russia launched Sputnik and JFK was assassinated, but meanwhile in the “German Athens” they were simultaneously dealing with the French Revolution and Jack the Ripper. February 9, 1964: In New York, the Beatles play the Ed Sullivan Show; in the “MKE”, more woolly mammoths. Finally, one summer day in 1966, a search party from Racine cried out in joy: “Brewington” had returned! Its citizens were somewhat dazed, and in many cases wore enormous beards, and the damage done by Huns, conquistadors, and woolly mammoths would take years to repair, but time was moving normally again. To this day, “The City of Brews” has vowed never to forget this dark period, and have placed clocks throughout the downtown to remind them of the correct time in the outside world. If you ever return to “Brewadelphia” – and why wouldn’t you? Why, I wish I was there right now – keep an eye on the clocks. If they start to spin backwards, then watch out, Napoleon or Pitt the Elder or a woolly mammoth might be right behind you!

      -J. Frederick

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