Sybil Bruncheon’s “Seeing Is Believing… or is it?”...

Which of these is the correct explanation for this photo?

1) On the plant Gzzoolxton, naughty children are sent outdoors for a “time-out” as punishment. Interestingly, the term “time-out” is literal because the child is left outside for one of the interdimensional flying saucers to come by and take them to a parallel universe for several centuries… although they will still be back home in time for dinner… and a spanking.

2) Eugene Carpathy suffered from koinoniphobia: Fear of rooms! Yes, there IS an actual phobia for rooms! Can you believe it?... Oddly, Eugene only “developed” koinoniphobia after his uncle Frank asked him to repaint his four bedroom house… Frank got suspicious too when Eugene struggled with pronouncing “koinoniphobia”. He said “going-onion-phon-onia”.

3) Citizens of Badel-Badel, Hungary have a very compassionate health care system in place. No person is ever denied medical attention no matter what the malady or their financial situation. On the other hand, sometimes the treatment for various illnesses might be very similar. Fear of heights, caffeine withdrawal, willful sullenness, and chronic depression are all lumped under one “cure”… the patient is seated on a steel plate near a copper antenna rigged with yards of wire to wait for the next lightning strike… happily, there is only a nominal copay…

4) In San Souci, France, the Existential Festival on Albert Camus’ birthday was a time of yawning, sighing, staring into space, and the reciting of poetry that didn’t rhyme, usually by oneself or possibly while looking into a mirror if one wanted company. The promoters thought about marketing the weekend “Camus-Con”… but wondered… what’s the point?

5) Filbert’s incessant and deafening yodeling had completely emptied the town… Pastor Helgar dropped by to say goodbye before he left on the bus for Akron.

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Sybil Bruncheon's "Our Little Peoples' Library"...

Hello, Boys & Girls! Do you like to read?... oh, I hope so! It's very nice to let our imaginations help create the stories we hear, as opposed to sitting like dumb-ass Uncle Alf, or Drunky Cousin Julie, (or maybe even your parents and let the TV do all the thinking for the day!) Here are three books that are currently in your school library, but don't let the titles fool you! They're a good deal more interesting than they sound!… and Mummie will tell you a few more fascinating details about each of them, but don't worry! I won't spoil the stories or the surprise endings...

THE ADVENTURES OF JERRY MUSKRAT: Published by the Bedtime Story Books Co. and written by Thornton W. Burgess (later tried and convicted of espionage against His Majesty's Royal Navy). Jerry, though a rodent, proves to be extremely clever and even infernally brilliant at tricking various other animals in the village of Little Puddle-Wink into mischief, mayhem... and finally, murder. Fully illustrated including this cover of Jerry giving a ride to Mayor Tim-Toad Terwilliger across Lake Loon. Unfortunately, toads are not very good swimmers, and Jerry has fooled Mayor Tim Toad into playing "Let's Ride A Submarine"... can you guess who's the submarine... and who isn’t?

THE PIE AND THE PATTY PAN by Beatrix Potter: An early story by Miss Potter, long before she found her fame with much more wholesome characters like Peter Rabbit and his bunny family! She had started her career not with animals but with inanimate objects that had become living, talking, anthropomorphized beings, often wearing clothes, holding jobs, and even engaging in questionable “adult practices”. Her first stories were directed at young girls and their education in housekeeping, mothering their dolls, and “lady arts”. THE PIE AND THE PATTY PAN sounded at first like some sort of story about cooking and dessert, but within a page or so, the Patty Pan revealed its desire to fiercely spank a perfectly innocent and trusting Pie… and in a fiery oven fully illustrated as a 9th circle of Hell, complete with demonic rolling pins and other kitchen utensils waving red hot forks over their heads. This book is NOT for the faint of heart… or for diabetics.

FRISKY SQUIRREL’S STORY: … by someone named Amy Prentice; The title, the cover art, the opening page… it all claimed to be a merry little children’s story, but the more you looked, the more dry, ordinary, almost banal it was. Indeed there was nothing frisky about the title character, his cohorts, the prose, the so-called plot and adventures… nothing. Cover to cover, it read more like an FBI dossier except with furry forest animals and their vegetable and flower pals; Mr. Howard Badger smuggled his next door neighbor Blackie Raven out of the basement with a briefcase full of hollow walnuts, Mrs. Gertrude Stoat confronted Fred Weasel about their history overseas in a petting zoo reserved for Ferrets and their associates, Lipshitz Lambkin escaped his pen disguised as an artichoke at three in the morning and informed the Bulb Council that a tulip was hiding in a bed of daffodils… possibly armed with a fully loaded carrot…

Just as each chapter would end, instead of a resolution there would be a short addendum claiming “More Information Is Pending.” Within a week of publication and release to Children’s Book Stores, there were claims that government officials, intelligence agencies, and foreign embassies were deciphering all sorts of top secret “intel” hidden in the remarkably dull tales. And code breakers by the hundreds were assigned the task of figuring out anagrams from the characters’ names. The best they could come up with included “Queer Pooterzj”, “Commy Pinqbottum”, and “Haz Coootie derr”.  Even the name Amy Prentice only turned into “May Pet Nicer”, or “Meant Pricey”, or “Prince Meaty”… whatever…

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Sybil Bruncheon's "Who'z Dat?"... Happy, Happy Birthday to PINOCCHIO (February 23,1940)...

On February 23rd, 1940, Walt Disney's PINOCCHIO was released to theaters by RKO Radio Pictures. It wasn't just the children who sat thunderstruck at the visuals, imagination, and deeply moving story of a little toy that wanted to "be real".... When Monstro the Whale swept onto the giant movie screens of America with surging waves and tiny seagulls skittering out of the way to emphasize the appalling scale, when the ironically named Pleasure Island towering over the boys began to whirl into a terrifying nightmare of glittering lights and donkey-ears, and when the final resolution of death and transfiguration took place with the Blue Fairy and Jiminy Cricket standing by, gasps, screams, and tears flowed freely...

Whatever Disney's personal issues and prejudices were, his ability to mobilize the great talents that made one iconic piece of art after another at his studios remains fixed. 82 years later, even the stills from this and so many of his other films are spellbinding... "Cartoon"??? "Cartoon"... The word is laughable...

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Sybil Bruncheon's "A Few of My Favorite Things”... The World of Mr. Finch!...

Allow me to introduce you to one of the most extraordinary people I've ever encountered here on the internet. He makes, in my opinion, some of the most beautiful art objects I've ever seen from an imagination that belongs in the company of Lewis Carroll, J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, J.K. Rowling, and the great illustrators of the 19th and early 20th centuries. The precision and care he takes on his sculptures of magical creatures is mind-boggling.

I'll let him speak for himself here... and please, be sure to check out his website for a journey into the mind, heart, and hands of a living wonder in our time.

"My name is Finch – it’s actually my surname… everyone calls me it and I like it.

I’ve called my business Mister Finch so its clear from the start that I’m a man and one that sews.

We are a bit thin on the ground but we are out there!

I live in Leeds in Yorkshire not too far from the beautiful Yorkshire Dales in the UK.

I have no formal training in anything to do with textiles or sewing and apart from a short art course I did many years ago I’ve learnt all I know myself.

I’ve tried many areas creatively over the years and now I find myself sewing which I adore.

When I’m not making things which isn’t that often I love to read and watch old movies.

Flowers, insects and birds really fascinate me with their amazing life cycles and extraordinary nests and behaviour.

British folklore is also so beautifully rich in fabulous stories and warnings and never ceases to be at the heart of what I make.

Shape shifting witches, moon gazing hares and a smartly dressed devil ready to invite you to stray from the path.

Humanizing animals with shoes and clothes is something I’ve always done and I imagine them to come alive at night. Getting dressed and helping an elderly shoemaker or the tired housewife.

Making things has always been incredibly important to me and is often an amazing release to get it out of my system.

It’s a joy to hunt for things for my work…the lost, found and forgotten all have places in what I make.

Most of my pieces use recycled materials, not only as an ethical statement, but I believe they add more authenticity and charm.

A story sewn in, woven in.

Velvet curtains from an old hotel, a threadbare wedding dress and a vintage apron become birds and beasts, looking for new owners and adventures to have.

Storytelling creatures for people who are also a little lost, found and forgotten…"

Click here: http://www.mister-finch.com/

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Sybil Bruncheon's "Strange Stories From Suburbia"…

… it had been a fairly mild Summer… well, until that final week of July and the beginning of August when the "weather gods" decided that it was time to get down to business. The air thickened and thickened day by day until even the nights were fog-bound, but with steam!!!… heavy rolling steam which clung to one's clothes and lungs like a suffocating blanket. Literally, it was hard to breathe, even if you tried to cool off with a midnight stroll by the water's edge at the ocean. There was no breeze, no air, no relief, no escape!!… well, unless you escaped inside your own mind…

Is that what Miss Polly Bernbundle did? Such a polite and responsible young lady…until the neighbors reported that in full view of little Stacy Plunkett's 8th birthday party, Polly decided to recite various passages from Edith Hamilton's famous Anthology of Greek & Roman Mythology. It wasn't just that she was reciting the stories, but that she was shrieking them at the top of her lungs as if she was the Oracle at Delphi… long, strident and stentorian tones bellowed out over the white picket fence through which all thirty-seven of the children and their stunned parents stared. And then, then the biggest shock of all! Miss Bernbundle decided that it would be most effective (and educational!) if she re-enacted each myth in full… beginning with the "Birth of Aphrodite"… and it only involved the garden hose and the small wading pool she had gotten for Mr. Rollo, her Jack Russell terrier who barked incessantly as she "rose from the waves"…

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Sybil Bruncheon's "A Few of My Favorite Things”... The World of Mr. Finch!...

Allow me to introduce you to one of the most extraordinary people I've ever encountered here on the internet. He makes, in my opinion, some of the most beautiful art objects I've ever seen from an imagination that belongs in the company of Lewis Carroll, J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, J.K. Rowling, and the great illustrators of the 19th and early 20th centuries. The precision and care he takes on his sculptures of magical creatures is mind-boggling.

I'll let him speak for himself here... and please, be sure to check out his website for a journey into the mind, heart, and hands of a living wonder in our time.

"My name is Finch – it’s actually my surname… everyone calls me it and I like it.

I’ve called my business Mister Finch so its clear from the start that I’m a man and one that sews.

We are a bit thin on the ground but we are out there!

I live in Leeds in Yorkshire not too far from the beautiful Yorkshire Dales in the UK.

I have no formal training in anything to do with textiles or sewing and apart from a short art course I did many years ago I’ve learnt all I know myself.

I’ve tried many areas creatively over the years and now I find myself sewing which I adore.

When I’m not making things which isn’t that often I love to read and watch old movies.

Flowers, insects and birds really fascinate me with their amazing life cycles and extraordinary nests and behaviour.

British folklore is also so beautifully rich in fabulous stories and warnings and never ceases to be at the heart of what I make.

Shape shifting witches, moon gazing hares and a smartly dressed devil ready to invite you to stray from the path.

Humanizing animals with shoes and clothes is something I’ve always done and I imagine them to come alive at night. Getting dressed and helping an elderly shoemaker or the tired housewife.

Making things has always been incredibly important to me and is often an amazing release to get it out of my system.

It’s a joy to hunt for things for my work…the lost, found and forgotten all have places in what I make.

Most of my pieces use recycled materials, not only as an ethical statement, but I believe they add more authenticity and charm.

A story sewn in, woven in.

Velvet curtains from an old hotel, a threadbare wedding dress and a vintage apron become birds and beasts, looking for new owners and adventures to have.

Storytelling creatures for people who are also a little lost, found and forgotten…"

Click here: http://www.mister-finch.com/

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LITTLE GISELLE...

.....to be a gypsy in those days was to wander the countryside appearing in county fairs, carnivals, and village festivals of questionable repute. Little Giselle had come from a long line of fortune-tellers, clairvoyants, phrenologists, palm readers, and crystal ball gazers... She herself was considered a prodigy and possibly a savant in her ability to hear a customer's birthday (day, month, year!), and their birthplace, and, without a globe to check longitude and latitude or any sky charts to check for astronomical details, she could perfectly recite their zodiac profile... all the planets, aspects, conjunctions, rising signs, the trigons and trines, everything in a chart that it would take the average astrologer a week to diagram on paper, she could do in her head in seconds.

And, even if the client was a skeptic and didn't believe in astrology, Giselle could then astound people with their subtle personality details, the hopes, the dreams, even their fears. Her family and the extended "family" of the other travelers in the caravans and carnivals would whisper and nod sagely whenever little Giselle would walk into the communal tents for lunch, often alone as her parents knew that she was old, wise and very old for her years, which numbered only six.

Everyone knew she could handle herself with great dignity and composure. And at a time of greater innocence when children were less likely to be harmed by strangers, and when families watched out for each other's children more aggressively, no one worried about her independence.. It was in this world that Giselle, (Giselle Barund-Keelikov), wandered off from the encampment one afternoon in early November when the chill had started to settle in on the world of the open road and the lifestyle that was lived there.

The morning frost had reluctantly given way to the grey sun that fretfully wandered low across the horizon and was already promising to disappear behind the leafless trees to the West, and at 4:30 in the afternoon! Parents were folding up their trade carts and novelty-wagons a little earlier...the clouds were rolling up and some of the older folks could "smell rain", possibly in the next hour or so.

Visitors to the sad little carnival had been few and far between, and many of the gypsy families were already planning their yearly trek down to the Southern towns and villages for their warmer weather and cheerier atmosphere. Giselle had been seen sitting with her bowl of sweet turnip chowder and her beloved butter-crackers that Widow Crentski made especially just for her. A few of the older men tipped their caps to Giselle, giving their respects to her parents, or conferred with her about important matters, a cow's successful calving in the Spring, a possible match made between the tinsmith's son and the saddlemaker's daughter...

When she was finished, she paid the nice lady the correct amount of money and left the proper gratuity which her parents had carefully educated her about. She smiled and nodded to the other diners. She thanked the wife of the candy-maker who complimented her on her nice hat, and then moving out of the tent with a short glance back over her shoulder, she was never seen again...

A local miller was questioned by authorities several weeks later who claimed that he'd seen a little girl sitting on the roadside, perhaps on the day in question, he couldn't be sure. He remembered that she seemed to be conferring very seriously with a dog and a horse... he was sure he heard her elaborately discussing something about the stars and the "constellations" (a word he recalled from a scientist who had visited a pub and told fascinated listeners about over several tankards of ale). Oh, and one other thing too... he heard the little girl say the words "pegasus", "can us major" or something like that, and that she was very "serious" about it all. She would pat her animal friends as she chatted, looking deeply into their eyes, and the miller remarked that the dog and horse seemed to be listening intently and appeared to be deep in thought.

The authorities were somewhat impatient with him and asked why he didn't speak to the little girl, especially since she was unaccompanied on the open road. Why didn't he question her, or find out where her family was... he paused, looked down for a minute and then said without irony that he didn't think it was his place to interrupt what was clearly a serious conversation. Didn't she use the term "serious" over and over in the few sentences he heard as he passed by? Didn't she point at the sky and then trace an arc of some sort from the South East to the North West and then point first to the dog and then to the horse...?? What could it all mean.

He told the inspector that he wanted to stay and listen.. Though only slightly educated and forced to leave school as a teenager, he had always been fascinated by wiser people, and the little girl seemed to be very, very wise... strangely so. Was he at all concerned that she might have come to harm being alone on the road, accompanied only by a dog and a horse in the gathering twilight as the sun vanished and the first stars started to twinkle in the dusky East?... "No.", he said and smiled. "There are souls here that move among us with a journey of their own... we are mere watchers... and we should stand aside as they pass."

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Sybil Bruncheon's A Tale for Thanksgiving Time: "SUBURBAN STORIES THAT STUN AND STUPEFY"...

The warning signs had been there for several months. Mrs. Ruth Anne Snively of 1148 Pembroke Lane had complained to her neighbors of strange voices, coming at first from the telephone, the radio, the television where it seemed strange voices always might have been heard. Indeed, "Ruthie", as she was known to all the Girl Scout Troop mothers, had been known for her quick wit, her sparkling sense of humor, her quirky imagination, and for her desire to be a stand-up comedian in local clubs "once the kids have grown up" as she put it. She even managed a couple of tentative debuts at the local Kiwanis and Shriner's clubs where her little act was described by the local critics as "refreshing"....and "a charming bit of whimsical and timely fluff filled with social commentary and some recipes".

Perhaps it was no surprise when Mrs. Snively began to exhibit eccentricities like a growing diet of Hostess Ding Dongs, Pringles Potato Chips, and vegan "beef" jerky. Frequently, she would answer her front door with facial masks of Marshmallow Fluff and Peter Pan Extra-Crunchy Peanut Butter. Her dependence on increasing dosages of St. Joseph's Aspirin for Children did not go unnoticed at PTA meetings...And on weekends, she could be found incoherent in back alleyways completely drunk on cocktails of Tang ....and Woolite....and Maraschino cherries. After her husband Arthur left her taking the children to Chillicothe, her friends tried interventions and enlisting the aid of the Come To Jesus Society Of Sobriety down on Walnut Street... but nothing worked.

It was finally on that terrible day in January when Snively wandered into her kitchen and overheard all her appliances talking behind her back. Oh yes!..They quickly smiled and pretended to change the subject, but it was too late. She had heard the worst!...and the jokes at her expense.... comments about "that tired old apron", and her "water-weight gain after the Holidays".....It was all too much! TOO MUCH!...and so, lovely, sweet, witty Mrs. Ruth Anne Snively calmly went to her former friend the Sunbeam waffle maker, laid her perfectly coiffed head down on its non-stick surface, and slowly pressed herself into a fluffy breakfast treat for the police to find later in the afternoon. Her suicide note was found on the counter beside an unopened bottle of Mrs. Butterworth's and a virgin stick of Land 'O' Lakes lightly salted butter. (You know Land 'O' Lakes? The one with the Indian maiden on the front whose knees look like breasts??)

Well, Ruth is now being treated for first degree burns and minor cheek-dimpling at Flower Of Mercy Hospital downtown, and will be receiving a lovely re-contouring of her complexion while being housed in their newly opened Extreme Neurosis Wing. She's slowly being re-acclimated to Kitchen Chore duty.... but under strict (and loving!) supervision.... (she continues to wear earplugs to ...shut out.. "unwelcome" chatter"...)

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Sybil Bruncheon's "Hollywood Fact or Fiction!"… NOW-UR-HERE/NOW-UR-NOT"!...

TRUE STORY!!... this is the only known photo of the horribly tragic incident of "Joan Crawford & The MGM Transporter"...

L.B. Mayer, in an attempt to save travel expenses for his major stars going on location shoots in the 1930s, invested in advanced scientific research at M.I.T.

Albert Einstein and a handful of radical physicists claimed that they could "transport" props, camera equipment, and even movie stars around the globe in an instant and have them back in Hollywood for dinner after a full day of filming on the other side of the Earth. And no more faking foreign sets on Hollywood backlots!! Joan Crawford, being one of the biggest stars at the time, pushed her way to the front of the line on the day that they were to inaugurate the new "Now-Ur-Here/Now-Ur-Not Time Bender".... it was located just off the MGM Commissary near the dessert counters. After knocking Clark Gable and Franchot Tone to the floor, Crawford threw herself into the glass travel-booth!... there was a blinding flash of silvery blue light, a whirring sound of gears and steam.. ending in the grinding of metal like a soda fountain milkshake-maker gone horribly awry... then a scream and maybe some swear-words, and when the brown smoke cleared, there remained only a dish of beans and franks where the great Joan Crawford had just stood!!...

Fortunately with Einstein's great mind, his team's determination, and L.B.'s vast resources, they were able to bring Crawford back, a little at a time, over the following 3 weeks, although cafeteria-goers kept trying to eat her... and complained of gas.

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Sybil Bruncheon's Favorite Films!..... HARVEY (1950).....

HARVEY (1950). Perhaps one of the most definitive Jimmy Stewart roles using his aw-shucks shuffling 'n' flustered persona to its fullest, teetering right on the edge of being lovable or cloying depending on your own proclivities. Co-starring a dazzling Josephine Hull...(DAZZLING!), Jesse White (before he made his fortune with Maytag washing machines!), Cecil Kellaway (one of the greatest character actors of all time, treading the finest line of comedy and near-tragic poignancy here), and a host of others who fill this film with as much color and life as other golden-age comedies like DINNER AT EIGHT, ARSENIC AND OLD LACE, and THE MAN WHO CAME TO DINNER. If you've never seen HARVEY before, I wonder if you'll feel an impossible-to-ignore lump in your throat as the story unfolds.... it may seem fluffy and foolish along the way, but the deeper message, especially in the face of how the "real" world had unraveled, cuts deep. The close call of Elwood's "therapy" is so strangely timely now too, with our 21st century society's desire to eliminate the special, the rare, the individual, the hand-made, the eccentric, the non-conformist. For me, it's another one of those stories that breaks my heart... every time. To the very last frame, and the very last twist in the plot, as the irrepressible Jimmy Stewart escorts us down the lane and off to the land of deeply happy endings.

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