A Stunt Man from William Trotter's gallery.
Sorry for yesterday's neglect. I've been working on distilling a book review which still isn't finished, and I have an appointment out of doors. That's right, I'm leaving the apartment and its appurtenances to go out amongst the civilized folk, or at least New Yorkers.
So, in lieu of anything good, here's the normal goulash:
1) Fish may unlock the secrets of human skin color, which I find fitting since I'm the hue of a flounder's belly.
2) I only ever heard the Indian was good luck, but The Sneeze has figured out how many kids are on the Tootsie Pop wrappers. The world may now know.
3) Did a noted coroner barter the cadavers under his purview for private lab space?
4) Half laughs, half woe, Mr. Babylon is back with a great one where he dares the halls of Shi**y High and his neighbor's porn collection to teach his ESL miscreants about To Kill a Mockingbird.
5) Mark Yost of the WSJ makes the point that at least the coordinators of movie stunt men deserve Oscars. Right on! Unlike the "brave choices" actors congratulate each other for making, cunning stunts require real courage, not to mention other assets currently optional for most movie stars like training and skill.