Wapsi Square Forum

Dave wrote:But what they neglect to say, for reasons that I don't fully understand, is just why the spaghetti weevil was no longer a problem. Like many other species of weevils, beetles, and insects-in-general, the spaghetti weevil is quite edible and nourishing... they're quite tasty when toasted with just a pinch of garlic salt. The canny Swiss spaghetti farmers had realized that they could create a very nice secondary income by collecting the weevils, freezing them, and exporting them to South America, where the Eurocentric bias against eating insects isn't an issue.

I suppose the filmstrip publishers didn't want to risk an "ewww" reaction from the English movie-going audience for which this short seems to have been made. No sense putting the customers off of their suet pudding.

That may be a more modern affectation of the English. Sailors in the glory days of the Royal Navy consumed them. Though it's well known that they preferred the smaller specimens as a matter of policy.

Typeminer wrote:That may be a more modern affectation of the English. Sailors in the glory days of the Royal Navy consumed them. Though it's well known that they preferred the smaller specimens as a matter of policy.

Indeed. In fact, that was how many of the British aristocracy made their fortunes, supplying bug-infested foodstores to the Navy. As with the Gold Rush in California, it wasn't those who went adventuring who made the real fortunes... it was those who sold them their supplies and equipment.

For business reasons, these actually weren't structured as sale, but as loans... for which Her Majesty's Government would then pay a forfeit when the sailors ate the food. Sort of a reverse pawnshop arrangement. The merchants didn't have to pay sales tax, and the Government could return excess food to the merchant and pay nothing if (e.g.) a ship's voyage was cancelled due to weather or political events. (The sailors often referred to these food suppliers as loan sharks, for obvious reasons).

I believe that some of my ancestors were engaged in this trade. My middle name is Chandler, and that's a family name taken from an old term for a dealer in supplies and equipment for ships (really! I am not making this up!)

So (getting back to your statement about policy) I guess this means that my great-great-great-great-grandfather might actually have been the lessor of the lesser of two weevils.

Yes, a Chandler is the guy who runs a hardware store for ships. And, they're called Mealworms for a reason -- Yum, yum!

Dave wrote: lessor of the lesser of two weevils.

Really.

SO much verbiage...so little point.

Dave has finally used up the marker he earned when I made a joke about structural engineering in bras so long ago. That sucker was Ferghoot level, Dave.

Just Old Al wrote:Dave has finally used up the marker he earned when I made a joke about structural engineering in bras so long ago. That sucker was Ferghoot level, Dave.

Hey, if Isaac Asimov can get away with it (and I cite his short story Shah Guido G) I figured I might... and I had to give a proper response to Typeminer, who left that narrative left hook hanging out there waiting to hit somebody in the chin.

Although, it's true, I do need to be careful. Greg warned me, some time back, that my sense of humor has been sufficient to have me blacklisted, watch-listed, and warning billboards about me posted in several states.

At the time I hadn't believed him... but a recent incident changed my mind. While traveling up north, I came across a park in which a big group of antiquarians were staging a Revolutionary War re-enactment. I stopped in to visit and watch, but when the ticket-seller saw the name on my credit card, he called for Security and I was quite firmly asked to leave.

The guys dressed up as soldiers didn't care one way or the other, but the flute-and-drum-corp members wanted nothing to do with me. Their leader said "We've heard about you. We figure you're the kind of guy who would bring a pun to a fife night."

And they threw me out.

At least their response was notably in scale.

/drops a pianoforte in the pun jar/

--FreeFlier

Dave wrote:The guys dressed up as soldiers didn't care one way or the other, but the flute-and-drum-corp members wanted nothing to do with me. Their leader said "We've heard about you. We figure you're the kind of guy who would bring a pun to a fife night."

And they threw me out.

I was eating up until a moment ago....

Dave wrote:Their leader said "We've heard about you. We figure you're the kind of guy who would bring a pun to a fife night."

And they threw me out.

Well, yeah. They didn't have to throw you past the Pun Jar's accretion disk.

Good thing there's nobody else at home right now. They'd ask me what has me chuckling when I should be asleep.