In honor of Caturday, I brought this puzzle/game I found in Games World of Puzzles April 2022 issue.
Cat Got Your Tongue by Raymond Simon
Each of the 14 clues below can be answered by a word, phrase, name or title containing the word CAT. For example, the clue “Butterfly-to-be” leads to CATEPILLAR, while “Independent oil driller” would be WILDCATTER. Can you identify all the right answers?
Wealthy campaign contributor
Midafternoon snooze, maybe
Imitator
L. Bean sends them via snail-mail
Fashion show runway
The world’s first female Iron Chef
Excessively fearful person
Subterranean cemeteries
Reveal a secret, slangily
Substance that initiates a chemical reaction
Early version of a missile launcher
Swift boat with twin hulls
Creating a fake persona to lure someone online
Tennessee Williams play featuring Brick and Maggie
So how’d you do? Did you get them all? PURRRRRRFECT!!
Today’s post got messed up and when I tried to fix it, the editor function went bonkers…or I just don’t speak the wordpress crap language well enough. So here’s the open…LOL
The debate of “cats vs. dogs” is an argument as old as time. Rarely will you find someone who likes both equally. Dog people are very passionate about their pups and cat people are very passionate about their felines. However, sometimes it feels like the cat people are a minority in a majorly dog-loving-world. And when things pop up like a 2017 study in the journal Society & Animals that shows human parents feel more empathy for puppies than they do for babies, it’s hard to say dogs haven’t won the cat vs. dog debate… But, have they?
Cats, as anyone who has one will tell you, are better than dogs in every conceivable way. They’re softer, sweeter, and smarter. They’re quieter and cleaner. They’re masters of both the art of lazy lounging and the one of skillful hunting (of rodents). Plus, once upon a time, we used to revere them as gods. And this all isn’t just one cat lover’s opinion—there’s science and data to back it up. Yes, you may have heard that dogs are man’s best friends, but here are all of the reasons why cats actually make for far better pals.
Owning a cat might make you more intelligent.
Next time someone asks you to defend why cats are better than dogs, lob this fun little fact at them: Cat people are smarter than dog people. According to 2017 research published in the Human-Animal Interaction Bulletin, self-identified cat lovers tended to have higher intelligence than dog lovers do. (We are less outgoing, though.)
They splash less.
As a team of researchers from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and Princeton University revealed in 2010, cats drink water far more efficiently than dogs do. When a cat takes a drink, its tongue doesn’t actually pierce the water’s surface; it forms a funnel that lifts water up for a splash-free drink, getting in four laps per second. A dog, on the other hand, will sloppily crash its tongue into the water bowl like a cannonball. It’s scientific proof that cats rule and dogs drool—literally.
They’re cheaper.
According to the Animal Humane Society, average adoption fees for kittens and cats start at $32 and can run as high as $270. For dogs and puppies, however, fees start at $115, but go all the way up to $660! Adopting a cat is just more cost-efficient.
They love humans more than food.
Over the years, cats have earned a bad rap for being cold and distant. “They only love you because you feed them,” dog owners often tell cat owners. There’s also the persistent rumor that—were you to die—a cat wouldn’t care at all, and would, in fact, eat your deceased remains to survive. But research indicates all of this thinking is just plain hooey. According to a 2017 study in Behavioural Processes, cats prefer human interaction to all other stimuli, including food, toys, and catnip. Can you say the same for dogs? We think not.
Their love is more meaningful than a dog’s.
Dogs, it often appears, love everyone. Cats, on the other hand, are more standoffish when meeting someone new. (Centuries of domesticity still can’t eliminate the innate caution of a stealthy predator, it seems.) When a dog showers you in affection, it may be nice, but you know that everyone else is getting the same treatment. When a cat warms up to you, though, you feel special and unique—like you’ve earned it. And, as we just learned from that Behavioural Processes study, no, it’s not just because of the food.
They take up less space.
On average, Pets WebMD says a domestic cat will usually weigh around 10 pounds. Dogs, of course, have more variables—there are hundreds of different breeds—but, the American Kennel Club clocks a medium-sized dogs, on average, at about 50 pounds. As far as who takes up more of your well-earned space, it’s not rocket science.
They live longer.
Need another big reason why cats are better than dogs? They live a lot longer. In fact, Pet WebMD says a domesticated cat, on average, will live anywhere from 10 to 15 years. Dogs, on the other hand? Depending on size, eight to 11.
They’re not as smelly as dogs.
If you want to conjure some instant revulsion, just think of the words “wet” and “dog.” You know exactly what odious scent I’m talking about, and you know just as well that few things offend the olfactory nerves as much as a the aroma of a damp dog. Cats don’t ever reek like that.
They sleep a lot.
Fact: Animals are at their cutest when sound asleep. And cats sleep anywhere from 12 to 16 hours per day, which means you have more than half of your waking hours to snap some serious aww-inducing Instagram pics. And, frankly, we should take a note from this behavior because we could all stand to sleep a few hours more each day.
They’re expert hunters.
Before you judge a cat’s sleeping habits, know that these long hours are borne less out of laziness and more out of evolutionary coding. Cats are natural predators; unlike other mammals, who may have foraged for food, felines had to hunt, which meant spending large chunks of the day asleep, conserving energy to chase down their next meal. This is also why much of that 12-to-16-hour period is spent in a light doze. Before domesticity came into play, felines had to sleep lightly, in case prey—or a more dangerous predator—stepped on their turf. (That’s also why we call a “catnap” a catnap.)
Their centuries-long history of hunting has carried into the modern day. According to a 2013 study published in Biological Conservation, domesticated house cats are responsible for the deaths of 2.9 billion rodents and birds every year. This is all to say: Your cat is basically a terminator with fur, and we’d be overrun with rodents if not for their valiant effort regulate the vermin population.
They’re better for the environment.
You may assume all of this wanton death leaves a negative impact on the environment, but ecosystems are well-adjusted by now. In fact, it’s not cats but dogs that aren’t so great for the planet. According to research conducted by New Zealand researchers in 2009, dogs have about 2.1 times the environmental impact of an SUV. Talk about a serious carbon paw print!
You don’t have to walk them.
Whenever dogs need to relieve themselves, you have to take them outside. Yes, you can train them to need this only at certain hours of the day, but still, it’s a pain. Cats will just tend to a litter box on their own volition. A cat and its owner mostly stay out of each other’s bathroom business—and that’s truly one of the sweetest reasons why cats are better than dogs.
And some of them can even use a toilet!
It’s not just a Meet the Parents storyline. It’s a true story. You’ll have to start the training early, though—when they’re about three or four months old.
They clean themselves.
Cats don’t require regular grooming sessions like dogs do. The tongue of a cat is barbed in a way that removes dirt and grime from fur with startling efficiency. Cats literally lick themselves clean, another practical reason why they are better than dogs.
Once upon a time, they were gods.
As early as 3,000 B.C.E., felines were worshipped as deities. The Egyptian goddess Bastet—of war, protection, or the moon, depending on the dynasty—is among the first. Her sister in folklore, Sekhmet, the warrior goddess of healing or the hunt (again, depending on the dynasty), was thought to have blown Egypt into existence with her breath. Oh, and there’s also a little thing you maybe have heard of called The Sphinx.
But feline worship isn’t relegated to Ancient Egyptian culture. There’s also Dawon, the Hindu sacred tigress; Barong Ket, the Balinese “king of spirits;” and the entire pantheon of jaguar gods of the pre-Columbian Mayan era. In other words: Your cat may have descended from a deity. Whether you believe in that sort of thing or not, though, it can’t hurt to treat the little fella as such.
They change the color of our skin. They get stuck in our teeth. But for some reason, we can’t stop eating cheese curls, the puffiest snack food ever created. But these corn-and-powder snacks didn’t just fall like manna from the sky into our bowls. The story of the cheese curl is one of the more unusual creation stories in snack-food history. Let’s talk about it. It’s weirder than you’d think.
Who invented cheese curls? One story involves a piece of agricultural equipment
Wisconsin, the agricultural hub that it is, has given us a lot of food innovations over the years. (Three words: fried cheese curds.)
But some of those innovations, like the process that gave us the modern cheese curl, were complete accidents. The accident proved fruitful for Flakall Corporation, a Beloit, Wisconsin animal feed manufacturer whose owners later switched gears to producing snack foods, all thanks to the way the company cleaned its machines. The company’s approach to producing animal feed was to put the material through a grinder, effectively flaking out the corn so more of it could be used to get as much usable material as possible from the grain, as well as to ensure cows weren’t chewing any sharp kernels.
A Feed Grinder (patent filing)
“This flaking of the feed is of advantage because it avoids loss of a good percentage of material which otherwise is thrown off as dust, and gives a material which keeps better in storage by reason of the voids left between the flakes, such that there can be proper aeration, not to mention the important fact that flaked feed is more palatable and easily digested by the animal,” the firm stated in a 1932 patent filing.
The grinder did its job, but it wasn’t perfect, and periodically required cleaning to ensure it wouldn’t clog. One strategy that Flakall workers used was to put moistened corn into the grinder. During this process, however, something unusual happened: the moist corn ran directly into the heat of the machine, and when it exited the grinder, it didn’t flake out anymore—it puffed up, like popcorn, except without the annoying kernels, in a long string.
By complete accident, Flakall had invented the world’s first corn snack extruder.
Edward Wilson, an observant Flakall employee, saw these puffs come out of the machine, and decided to take those puffs home, season them up, and turn them into an edible snack for humans—a snack he called Korn Kurls. Another way to put this is that when you’re eating a cheese curl, you’re noshing on repurposed animal feed.
How a cheese curl is made (patent filing)
This state of affairs led to the second patent in Flakall’s history, a 1939 filing titled “Process for preparing food products.” A key line from the patent:
“The device preferably is designed so as to be self-heated by friction between the particles of the material and between the particles and the surfaces of contacting metal and to progressively build up pressure during the heating period. Thus the uncooked raw material, having a predetermined moisture content is processed into a somewhat viscous liquid having a temperature high enough to cook the mass and heat the water particles to a temperature high enough for evaporation at atmospheric pressure but being under sufficient pressure to prevent it.”
If that’s a little complicated to understand, a 2012 clip from BBC’s Food Factory does the trick.
In the video, host Stefan Gates takes an extruder and connects it to a tractor, making the extruder move so fast that it puffs the corn out in an extremely fast, dramatic way.
Clearly, Flakall had something big. The firm eventually changed it’s name to Adams Corporation, which helped to take some attention off the fact that it was selling a food product to humans that was originally intended for animals.
While Flakall has the more interesting tale on this front, it’s not the only one. Another early claimant to the cheese curl is a Louisiana firm called the Elmer Candy Corporation, which developed a product eventually called Chee Wees.
Chee Wees
The Big Cheese of New Orleans, as it’s nicknamed, became a local institution. Elmer’s Fine Foods—no longer a candy company—is a family-owned business that’s produced cheese curls almost continuously for roughly 80 years.
I say “almost” because the firm had to deal with the impact of Hurricane Katrina. As the company explains on its website, Elmer’s entire facility was flooded out by the deadly storm, and the company had to stop operation for 16 months while it recovered from the hurricane and completely replaced the machines that produced the snacks.
A challenge like that might have been enough to kill a lot of companies. But Elmer’s bounced back—and it’s still active to this day.
(Another notable cheese curl firm, Old London Foods,came out with its variation, the Cheese Doodle, in the late 1950s.)
Five interesting facts about Cheetos, the brand that took cheese curls mainstream
While Cheetos came along later than its competitors, first being invented in 1948, it quickly overtook the market, in part because it had gained national distribution due to the prior success of Fritos. That company’s founder, Elmer Doolan, worked out a deal with H.W. Lay and Company to market Cheetos to the broader market. It quickly became a massive hit.
Cheetos
Cheetos are by far the most popular brand of cheese curls in the United States. According to Statista, the Cheetos brand had an estimated $969.5 million in sales in 2016, with the next most popular brand being Frito-Lay’s more-upscale Chester’s brand, which garnered up just 7 percent of Cheetos’ total sales.
The success of Cheetos was so impressive that it played a large role in the merger of Frito with Lay in 1961, as well as the company’s later merger with PepsiCo just four years later.
There are two main varieties of Cheetos—crunchy, the most common kind, and puffed, which only came about in 1971 or so. Each is made through different variations on the corn snack extruder process. Dozens of other flavors exist, however, both inside and outside of the U.S.
The reason that Flamin’ Hot Cheetos have such a prominent color that sticks to everything (and turns your fingers red), according to Wired, has a lot to do with the product’s use of food dyes that have an added chemical to make the seasoning oil-dispersible. That’s because the powder won’t stick to the Cheetos without vegetable oils.
Cheese curl cartoons: Why we never got a Chester Cheetah Saturday morning cartoon, despite multiple attempts
These days, Chester Cheetah is trying to goad Beyoncé on Twitter just like every other advertising mascot worth its weight in salt, but there was a time that the cheetah was seen as so impressive that there was chatter it could become a cartoon lynchpin. In fact, Frito-Lay got pretty far down the road with Fox in turning the mascot, launched in 1986, into a cartoon. Yo! It’s the Chester Cheetah Show, as the toon would have been called, was developed as a potential part of Fox’s Saturday morning cartoon slate. (CBS also considered making the show, but rejected it.)
I grew up a very lucky girl. I had a great mom, a competitive, older sister, a somewhat bratty, younger brother, and a completely awesome Dad.
Dad himself did not have an easy life. At 16, he had to quit high school because both my grandparents contracted horrific cases of influenza. While an aunt cared for his parents, and looked after his siblings, he found a job at a clothing factory to support the family. Months later, my grandfather, a carpenter by trade, was able to return to work, but Dad chose to keep working and help out as much as he could. Within a few years, he met and married my mother.
Because Dad had a limited education, employment prospects were few, far and in between, but he always kept food on the table. One of my earliest memories is of seeing my father coming home very early in the morning still dressed in his milkman uniform.
same uniform, different Dad
When the dairy shut down, Dad was forced to work as a general laborer, working on such projects as The Pocono Raceway and The Schaeffer Brewery. Neither of those jobs were close to our home, so Dad drove long hours to and from work, but he never complained. I learned that there is nothing more important than family…because of Dad.
I remember when I was in grade school, being frustrated with a homework assignment to write a book report (which was finished) and draw an accompanying picture. I couldn’t draw a horse; no matter how I tried, it looked terrible. Dad came out to the table, asked what was wrong and when I blubbered I can’t draw, he sat down beside me. Taking my blue composition book and a pencil, he explained the shape of the horse as it came to life on the paper. I was mesmerized. He then instructed me to take my pencil and recreate the image—making a smaller horse beside his—and I did it! Right there and then I fell in love with drawing…because of Dad.
not his drawing…but close!
As we kids grew older, Dad used our dinner times to not only to ask about our days at school, but to discuss and debate many different issues. He was the first conspiracy theorist I ever knew. We debated the moon landing frequently, as well as JFK’s assassination and Hitler’s suicide. I learned how to defend my positions, make informed opinions and how to keep an opened mind…because of Dad.
Dad’s theory
One of the greatest gifts I ever got from my Dad was making people laugh. He was a musician, played the accordion—had his own band—and played at weddings and dances, and at our home on Sundays.
not my Dad, although he DID like red
He would play and sing and the neighbors always came over to hear him. Before long, they were clapping along or dancing, and laughing, because Dad always told jokes. If he wasn’t singing, he was cracking jokes. Even when he was in the hospital, he was always joking with the nurses and making them laugh. I learned how to brighten someone’s day…because of Dad.
When I first met my second husband, a handsome, college educated professional man, he was a single father, newly divorced and I thought he was nothing like my Dad. He wasn’t artistic or musical in the least, didn’t care to debate conspiracy issues or current issues at all, and couldn’t tell a joke to save his soul. And then I saw him with his daughter, and I knew he was the one…because of Dad.
During his years of service with the engine company, Chief/Nip had demonstrated many acts of bravery and heroism. He rode with the company to every fire, and was always the first to leap off the fire engine and run into the burning buildings to scout for victims. Whenever he found a human in need of help, the brave fire dog would bark until the firemen responded.
I’m sure the fireman rewarded him with extra food or treats every time he saved someone, but Chief/Nip was never rewarded with medals for saving a human mother or child. He was awarded the medals for saving a cat. (And he didn’t even like cats.)
On November 10, 1936, a fire broke out in the basement of a four-story brick apartment building at 308 Hicks Street in Brooklyn Heights. It quickly spread to the upper floors through a dumb-waiter shaft.
The four-story, nine-unit apartment building at 308 Hicks Street, where Chief/Nip the fire dog rescued a cat, was constructed in 1899. Today, developers have proposed converting the building into a luxury single-family townhouse.
Ten people were in the building when Adela Gomez, 17, ran into the hallway on the second floor and screamed after smelling smoke. John Bermudez, 16, was with his mother, his 18-year-old sister Anna, his 12-year-old brother Joseph, and his sister-in-law and her baby in their top-floor apartment when they heard the commotion.
As the family started to descend the stairs, John noticed a cat running in the opposite direction toward the top floor. (Some reports say the cat was named Carlotta and belonged to John; other reports say the cat was named Fluffy and belonged to Mrs. Andrea Gomez on the second floor). John was determined to run after the cat and save it. John’s mother protested, but the “invincible” teenager darted upstairs as his family made their way safely to the street.
When the firemen of Engine Company No. 203 arrived on the scene, they found John unconscious on the stairway between the third and fourth floors. They took him to the street, where a rescue squad tried to revive him for nearly an hour without success (I’m not sure why they didn’t transport him to a hospital).
Soon after the firemen brought John out of the building, Chief/Nip emerged from the building, a little bit singed, with the cat in his jaws. The cat had lost a few of its nine lives, but somehow it was revived.
The rescue at 308 Hicks Street wasn’t the first time the company’s fire dog had saved a cat. Only a few months before, he had put his disdain for felines aside to do his duty and rescue a litter of five kittens from a burning store at Hicks and Union Streets.
Chief/Nip’s Life as a Fire Dog
Taken in as a stray one winter night in 1929, Chief/Nip served 10 years with Engine Company No. 203. During that time, he received numerous injuries from broken glass and falling debris, burns from scalding water, and bruises from falling off the fire engine. He also had some wonderful times, especially during the summer months when he got to live with one of the firemen in his home on Long Island.
Chief/Nip could recognize all the bells and signals, and he knew exactly which signal meant his company was responding to a call (he never made a mistake). On the fire scenes, Chief/Nip would superintend the firefighters and alert them if he knew something was wrong. If the hoses ever splashed his way, Chief/Nip would nestle under a fireman’s coat.
Chief/Nip Answers His Last Call
Although Chief/Nip was a 16-year-old senior citizen in 1939, he probably had a few more good years left as an active fire dog when his life was abruptly ended on November 9, 1939. While playing out in front of the firehouse, Chief/Nip was struck by a hit-and-run driver.
People in the street called out for help, and a group of children followed the fire dog into the firehouse and told Lt. Matthew F. Rogers that it had been hit by a car that kept going. Instead of waiting for help to come, Chief/Nip dragged himself back inside and tried to jump up on the fire engine seat. Missing the seat, he landed on the running board, where he curled up and died.
When Chief/Nip, the fire dog, died in 1939, the men of Engine Company No. 203 had his body stuffed and mounted. The black and tan mongrel dog is forever on display with his medals of honor at the New York City Fire Museum. Photo by P. Gavan
The members of Engine Company No. 203 kept him in a place of honor at the firehouse until the company disbanded in 1974.
A Brief History of the Brooklyn Fire Department and Engine Company No. 203 @ link:
Flying has captured the human imagination for centuries. Whenever there is an issue regarding a flight of any kind, it grabs our attention. A plane crash, mechanical issues, airport power outages, storms, even fights among passengers make headlines. Yet, what if someone stole a small aircraft, took off without control tower clearance, then landed it on a busy Manhattan street, got out and went into a bar to have a drink?
In today’s era of fear, the pilot would be arrested as a terrorist. Imagine an aviator pulling this stunt in 1956, during the height of the Cold War and drunk. This is the story of one such aviator. When the Second World War began, pilots and mechanics became an essential part of both the Axis and Allied war efforts. Wars provided men and women with opportunities to learn all about flying.
Thomas Fitzpatrick was one such boy. He grew up in Washington Heights and was born on April 24, 1930. Tommy lied about his age and enlisted into the Marine Corps and fought in the Pacific during the Second World War. When the war ended he was honorably discharged and returned home.
Then, in 1949, he joined the US Army and fought in the Korean War. Corporal Fitzpatrick received the Silver Star and Purple Heart after he was “seriously wounded” and attempted to rescue fellow soldiers “despite severe pain and loss of blood.” Again he was honorably discharged and returned home from war. Tommy Fitz, as he was called, became a steamfitter in his civilian life. The work required long hours working in the hot and cramped underbelly of New York buildings.
On the side he was a part-time airplane mechanic at the Tetterboro School of Aeronautics in New Jersey. He was also learning how to fly and logging in hours for his pilot’s license. By the age of 26, Tommy Fitz was a veteran of two wars, was a union steamfitter, and was involved in the fast-growing aviation industry.
In typical fashion, Tommy and his fellow blue collar workers in the construction trades ended their days by visiting a local tavern. The handwork and long hours involved with being steamfitter required some time to unwind before heading home to engage in domestic duties. Joe’s Bar on 191st Street was a frequent hangout for Tommy Fitz and his coworkers.
One night a debate raged among the bar’s patrons. Was it possible to fly from New Jersey to Washington Heights in 15 minutes? Full of the drink, Tommy accepted the challenge and left the bar. He headed across the Hudson River to Teeterboro Airport.
On Saturday night, September 29, 1956, Thomas Fitzpatrick arrived at Teeterboro, selected a small red and white Cessna 140, and began his flight. He flew the plane over Washington Heights and landed it near Joe’s Bar on St. Nicholas Avenue near 191st street. The drunk pilot was able to maneuver the plane’s 32 foot wing span and land it safely on the roadway lined on either side by buildings. He then taxied the plane up to Joe’s Bar, shut off the engine, and went inside for a celebratory beer just before the 3 am last call.
A plane landing on a Manhattan street at 3 am garnered the attention of the local police. The police arrived at Joe’s Bar where Fitz told them that he had suffered “unexpected engine trouble” and was forced to land. He admitted to borrowing the plane because, while drinking, he suddenly had “an urge to fly.” After the police aviation department examined the plane, they determined that there was no engine trouble and Tommy Fitz was simply flying drunk. He was arrested and the plane was dismantled and moved to a nearby police station.
A judge set Tommy’s bail at $5,000 and charged him with grand larceny, which was a felony, as well as violating the city’s municipal code that forbid landing airplanes on any streets in New York City. The judge stated that “many terrible things could have happened” and he did not want Tommy Fitz to perform such a stunt again. Eventually, the grand larceny charge was dropped when the owner of the plane refused to sign a complaint.
Some in the police department were in awe of Tommy’s drunken accomplishment. One sergeant in the Police Aviation Bureau proclaimed that flying a plane drunk and managing to land it safely between New York buildings was a “100,000 to one shot” and a “feat of aeronautics.” Eventually, Tommy was found guilty and fined $100. His pilot’s license was suspended for six months. After his late-night flight, Tommy Fitz claimed he had no desire to fly again and never renewed his license.
Deja Vu
Thomas Fitzpatrick got married in June 1958. He and his bride, Helen, settled in New Jersey while Tommy continued to work as a steamfitter. After visiting his old stomping grounds on October 4, 1958, Tommy Fitz went into a bar for a drink. As the drinks flowed the stories grew.
When one bar patron told another that Tommy Fitz had landed an airplane on St. Nicholas Avenue and 181st Street they simply did not believe it. Tommy Fitz got up from his barstool, left the bar, drove to Teterboro Airport, and selected a plane. At 12:20 am, the control tower at Teterboro Airport watched Fitz take off in a Cessna 120 without proper clearance, radio contact, or navigation lights.
Just after 12:35 am, a bus driver at Amsterdam Avenue and 191st Street saw a plane in the rear mirrors coming in for a landing. According to the bus driver, the plane landed next to the bus, bouncing 20 feet up upon contact with the ground and then bounced again and “taxied down to 187th Street.” The bus driver, Harvey Roffe, fled from his bus and ran down to 187th street to see the plane. By the time that he arrived, the pilot was gone. Another witness to the plane’s landing told police that he saw a man who was “tall, blond, and husky wearing a gray suit” fleeing from the plane.
Once again the borrowed plane was in fine working order. It even had 3/4 full tank of fuel! As the police began to draw parallels to the plane landing event from two years earlier, Tommy Fitzpatrick became a person of interest. Upon his first round of questioning, he denied everything.
When a witness identified Fitzpatrick as the man who fled the plane and the police told him that his finger prints were all over the plane, he admitted to borrowing the plane and landing it on Amsterdam Avenue.
Thomas Fitzpatrick was again charged with grand larceny and violating the city’s codes of landing a plane on a New York City street. He was also charged with “dangerous and reckless operation of an aircraft.” Fitzpatrick was held on a $10,000 bond. On January 26, 1959, Thomas Fitzpatrick pled guilty for bringing stolen property into the state of New York.
The judge proclaimed that Fitzpatrick was most certainly drunk and flew the plane when “dared by a drinking companion.” Then the judge proclaimed that despite Thomas Fitzpatrick’s exemplary civil and military record and the completion of two “miraculous” landings, he was sentenced to six months in jail.
Upon his release from prison, Tommy Fitz returned to working as a union steamfitter. He and his wife, Helen, raised their three sons in Washington Township in Bergen County, New Jersey.
Tommy Fitz was an active member of his community belonging to a VFW Post, the Men’s Club at his church, along with other civic organizations. After a battle with cancer, Thomas Fitzpatrick died on September 14, 2009, just past the 53rd anniversary of his first plane landing on a New York City street.
A drink consisting of Kahlua, vodka, Chambord, blackberries, egg white, and simple syrup was named in Tommy Fitz’s honor and known as the “Late Night Flight.”
Assembled by Danny Beason of New Leaf, in the Manhattan neighborhood where Fitzpatrick landed his plane twice.
The idea here is to create a layered representation of NYC’s nighttime sky. Pour Kahlua into the base of a cocktail glass. In a separate mixing glass, muddle the blackberries, add Chambord and one ounce of vodka, and shake with ice. Strain carefully into a layer over the Kahlua.
In another mixing glass, shake egg white, syrup, and remaining half ounce of vodka — without ice — to create an emulsion. Layer this fluffy white foam on top – like the clouds through which Mr. Fitzpatrick piloted.
Sip and enjoy, preferably far from any enticing airfields.
Judy was a ships’ dog on board the HMS Gnat and HMS Grasshopper which were stationed on the Yangtze River before and during World War II. Her ability to hear incoming aircraft provided the crew with early warnings. Judy was transferred, with other crew, from the Gnat to the Grasshopper in June 1939 when the ship was sent to Singapore due to the British declaration of war on Germany. She was on board the ship for the battle of Singapore, which saw the Grasshopper evacuate for the Dutch East Indies. It was sunk en-route, and Judy was nearly killed having been trapped by a falling row of lockers. She was rescued when a crewman returned to the stricken vessel looking for supplies.
The surviving crew, along with Judy, made their way to Singkep in the Dutch East Indies and then onto Sumatra, with the aim to link up with the evacuating British forces. After trekking across 200 miles of jungle for five weeks, the crew and Judy arrived a day after the final vessel had left and subsequently became prisoners of war of the Japanese. Judy was eventually smuggled into the Medan POW camp, where she met Leading Aircraftsman Frank Williams for the first time. She would go on to spend the rest of her life with him. Williams convinced the camp Commandant to register her as an official prisoner of war, with the number ’81A Gloergoer, Medan’. She was the only dog to be registered as a prisoner of war during the Second World War.
Judy moved around several more camps, survived the sinking of the transport ship SS Van Warwyck and saved several prisoners from drowning. Once they had been rescued and upon arrival at a dock, she was found by Les Searle, (of the HMS Grasshopper), who tried to smuggle her onto a truck with him. However, she was discovered by a Japanese Captain who threatened to kill her. This order was countermanded by the newly arrived former Commander of the Medan POW camp and she was allowed to travel with Searle onto the new camp, where she was reunited with Frank Williams.
This camp was on the railway being built between Pekanbaru and Muaro. Here she proved herself useful in conducting trades between the locals and the POW’s, as she would indicate when the locals were hiding near the track. Her barking also alerted the guards to when there was something too large for her to handle in the jungle, such as tigers or elephants. Judy survived by catching snakes and rats for herself and for the men which substituted their diet of maggot infested rice.
Judy’s position at the camps was a treacherous one, as she often interferred whenever the Japanese guards began beating a prisoner, snapping and growling at them, which just resulted in the guards focusing their attention, and aggression, on her.
After the end of the war, Judy’s life was put in danger once again. She was about to be put to death by the Japanese guards following a lice outbreak amongst the prisoners. However, Williams hid the dog until the allied forces arrived. Searle, Williams and others smuggled Judy back to the UK aboard a troop ship where she spent the next six months in quarantine.
She was awarded the Dickin Medal by the People’s Dispensary for Sick Animals which is considered to be the animals version of the Victoria Cross. Her citation read, “For magnificent courage and endurance in Japanese prison camps, which helped to maintain morale among her fellow prisoners and also for saving many lives through her intelligence and watchfulness.”
Besides the medal, she was also the recipient of a serious amount of fanfare that included being “interviewed” by the BBC and having a ceremony held honoring her service on May 3, 1946 in Cadogan Square. She also became a mascot for the RAF.
Judy spent the rest of her life with Williams and continued her globetrotting by traveling with him around Africa. She was ultimately “put to sleep” on February 17, 1950 at the age of 13 as her health had declined significantly due to a tumor. Williams buried her in an RAF coat he had made especially for her and a small monument was erected in her honour.
Her Dickin Medal and collar were put on display at the Imperial War Museum in London as part of ‘The Animal’s War’ exhibition.
Many of us have seen the videos and articles about Dr. Yuval Noah Harari from the WEF discussing hacking the human brain, as well as Bill Gates’ plans to target specific areas of the brain via a virus and vaccine. In fact, DARPA’s NEAT program can help prove Dr. Harari to be prophetic about hackable humans leading to better healthcare or the worst totalitarian surveillance state in history. (Article dated March 2022)
This principle of stimulating the brain with implanted electrodes was studied in the 1950’s by Dr. Jose Delgado, following up on previous studies by others. Delgado was the Director of Neuropsychiatry at Yale University Medical School who was called a “technological wizard” for his numerous inventions. He invented a miniature electrode implanted in the brain — called a “stimoceiver” — which is capable of receiving and transmitting electronic signals wirelessly through radio waves.
Jose Manuel Rodríguez Delgado also known as “the pioneer of electric brain stimulation” was born on August 8, 1915 in Ronda, Spain. He was a physiology professor at the prestigious Ivy League Yale University in New Haven, Connecticut. Delgado was prominently known for his tests administering electric stimuli to the brain to control the mind.
Dr. Delgado completed his medical studies and earned a PhD in physiology from the Ramón y Cajal Institute in Madrid.In 1946, Delgado won a fellowship for a year at Yale. He later went on to accept a position in the physiology department at the same university, headed by Dr. John Farquhar Fulton, in 1950.
Fulton and his colleague, Dr. Carlyle Ferdinand Jacobsen presented a paper on the brain experiments they had conducted on chimpanzees at an international forum. These experiments described at the Second International Neurological Congress in London, held in July 1935, gave the idea of psychosurgery to Portuguese neurologist, Dr Antonio Egas Moniz.
Moniz thought of performing a similar surgery on patients with mental illnesses. Inspired by Fulton’s paper, Moniz directed the first prefrontal leucotomy on a human being, performed by his associate Almeida Lima at the Hospital Santa Marta in Lisbon on November 12, 1935. This was the beginning of leucotomies on patients with psychosis, which Moniz asserted gave the desired results.
By 1951, United States alone reported the maximum number of lobotomies performed, but by mid-1950s, lobotomy was renounced with the development of successful psychiatric medicines. Jose Delgado was horrified at the idea of lobotomy and completely against the thought of obliterating a section of the brain.
He believed in electrical implants in the brain that would pass small currents to control the behaviour of the patient. His primitive experiments consisted of implanted electrodes with wires connecting to electronic devices. This, unfortunately was a risky procedure as it curtailed the movements of the subject, and left the brain susceptible to infections.
Dr. Delgado’s most prominent experiment was with a Spanish fighter bull, Lucero, in 1964 in Cordoba, Spain on the La Alamirilla ranch owned by Don Ramón Sánchez. Lucero had been sedated and implanted with electrodes that were remote-controlled by Delgado. Dr. Delgado unfortunately does not state exactly how many bulls were involved in these experiments, but in his 1981 article he focuses his attention on the results of two bulls he implanted; one named “Cayetano” and another named “Lucero.” Both bulls were approximately 3 years old and weighed 200–280 kg.
Ranch hands prepare the bull, Lucero, for the surgery while ranch owner Don Ramon Sanchez (hand on hip) interacts with famous bullfighter El Cordobes (man in white jacket).
The bull Cayetano showing its left head turn upon stimulation of the left caudate nucleus.
Dr. Delgado in his 1981 Spanish manuscript discusses trying to replicate these experiments in docile bulls, attempting to make them more aggressive by stimulating thalamic structures. Beyond noticing motor responses (distinct body movements in response to the stimulation), he did not observe increases in aggression. He hypothesized that the electrodes may have been incorrectly placed.
Dr. Delgado then focused in his 1981 manuscript on a second bull named “Lucero,” which is the one always shown in the famous photos, as this was perhaps the most dramatic result of the bull brain stimulations. Lucero continued demonstrating robust charging behavior after the surgery, allowing for full investigation of Dr. Delgado’s ideas about aggression and brain circuits. When he stimulated at 100 Hz and 1 mA in the caudate and thalamus locations when the bull was charging a bullfighter, the bull immediately stopped and was still during the stimulation, although blinking its eyes and breathing regularly. Since no obvious motor effect was observed as in the first bull Cayetano (turning of the head, moving in a circle, etc.), Lucero had the most compelling response – the halt of the charge.
Lucero being halted in its charge to a bullfighter with thalamic or caudate stimulation.
Although the animal’s attack was halted by the stimulation, “detained in his aggressiveness,” the bull returned “furiously” to a full charge when the electrical stimulation ceased. This appears to be the best result of the bull implantations and the reason why the experiments are still remembered and discussed today.
Although ‘serious historians’ don’t like to discuss it, ‘alternative historians’ have presented evidence that the Nazis had more than a passing interest in the occult and pseudosciences that overlap with it. Beginning with Louis Pauwels and Jacques Bergier’s Le Matin des Magiciens, a number of writers have explored these themes in some detail, although they often lay stress on different aspects of mystical claims. In many cases, the writer’s own specific religious, mystical or occult beliefs colour their accounts.
One classic of the genre is Trevor Ravenscroft’s (1921-1989) The Spear of Destiny: the occult power behind the spear which pierced the side of Christ (Neville Spearman, 1972). This focuses on the alleged occult power of a spear, known as the Holy Lance of Vienna (or the Hofburg Spear), which forms part of the regalia of the Hapsburg monarchs and with which, according to Ravenscroft, Hitler was obsessed.
Trevor Ravenscroft (1921 – 1989)
Trevor Ravenscroft begins his book by introducing us to Dr. Walter Johannes Stein (1891-1957), whom he portrays as his spiritual mentor. He tells how Stein had intended to begin work on a book on the theme of The Spear of Destiny in 1957, but collapsed only three days after making the decision to do so and died in hospital soon after. Ravenscroft is claiming to act almost as a posthumous amanuensis for the book. As we will see, this is highly significant.
Walter Stein (1891 – 1957)
The early part of the book is effectively a biography of the years Adolf Hitler spent in Vienna as a down-and-out, an understandably poorly documented period of the future Führer’s life. Ravenscroft’s religious beliefs shine through the writing, which is peppered with exclamation marks, and it soon becomes clear that he wishes to explain Hitler’s peculiar evil as a result of Satanic possession or, at least, influence.
Water color view of the Vienna Opera House by Adolf Hitler during his destitute years in Vienna.
Nevertheless, in this section of the book, Ravenscroft has much to say about Hitler’s alleged interest in the Grail, although it is a very different sort of Grail from that of the Arthurian legends: this one is more related to medieval alchemy. It was this interest that is said to have brought Hitler into contact with Walter Stein in 1911, when Ravenscroft claims that Stein purchased a copy of a nineteenth-century edition of Wolfram von Eschenbach’s (c 1170 – c 1220) Parzival, with learned but troubling annotations in Hitler’s handwriting, from a dingy second-hand bookshop.
We are told about Hilter’s special hatred for Rudolf Steiner and of Steiner’s own interest in the Spear before returning to Nazi history and the rise of Heinrich Himmler (1900-1945). Himmler’s antiquarian obsessions are well known and included an interest in the Hapsburg regalia, of which the Spear is a part. We are told how Hitler took the Spear from its case in the Schatzkammer (Treasury) of the Hofburg Museum on the day of his entry to Vienna following the Anschluss that incorporated Austria into Greater Germany. Then we lose sight of it again until the end of the Second World War, when it was allegedly discovered by Lieutenant Walter William Horn (1908-1995) at the very moment of Hitler’s suicide on 30 April 1945.
The Spear of Destiny (Vienna Lance)
The first issue to address is that, as with so many religious relics, the Vienna Lance is not the only one. There are at least three others, including one in St Peter’s (Vatican City) and another in Vagharshapat (Վաղարշապատ, Armenia). The question of identity does not seem to have occurred to Trevor Ravenscroft, yet, if the idea that the very spear that pierced the side of Jesus has an occult power, the identity of the specific object is crucial to its possession of any such power (assuming, against all probability, that this sort of occult power has any reality). So, what is the claim of the Vienna Lance to be that very spear?
Display at St. Peter’s
The Vienna Lance is first attested in the reign of Otto I (912-973, “The Great”) as Holy Roman Emperor (961-973). It became part of the Reichskleinodien (official regalia) of the Empire in 1424, when Sigismund of Luxembourg (1368-1437, Emperor 1433-1437) assembled a group of artefacts to be kept in Nürnberg (Nuremberg, Germany) as the official coronation and ceremonial accoutrements of the Emperor. During the Revolutionary Wars of 1796, when the French army was close to Nürnberg, the Reichkleinodien were given to Aloys Freiherr von Hügel (1754-1825) for transport to Vienna, where they remained until 1938.
In that year, the Nazi hierarchy took the collection to Nürnberg, where they were hidden on the Allies’ advance toward the city in 1945. They were recovered thanks to the efforts of Walter Horn, a medievalist working in the US Army, whose knowledge of both the history of the Holy Roman Empire and the German language, was able to ascertain their hiding place in 1946. They were returned to Vienna and remain in the Schatzenkammer in the Hofburg Museum.
That much is the recent history of the Vienna Lance. However, if it is the spear that was thrust into the dying body of Jesus on the cross, its history must be traced back farther than Otto I in the later tenth century CE. According to Trevor Ravenscroft, Walter Stein believed it to be among the relics brought to France by the shadowy Hugo of Tours. This much is possible; the Hofburg Museum has long believed it to be of Carolingian date (eighth or ninth century). However, it was examined by Robert Feather in 2003 as part of a television documentary and shown to be of a seventh-century type.
Some have suggested that Ravenscroft was writing fiction. There is even a suggestion that Ravenscroft’s publisher persuaded him to market what was written as a novel as non-fiction, but this does not seem to be borne out by the evidence.
If you’re interested….rare recorded interview with Trevor Ravenscroft:
Trevor Ravenscroft was born in England in 1921, went to a British public school, and subsequently went to Sandhurst Military College before serving as a Commando officer in World War II. He was captured on a raid which attempted to assassinate Field Marshal Rommel in North Africa and was a POW in Germany from 1941 to 1945, escaping three times but each time being recaptured before ending up in a German concentration camp.
After the war he studied medicine at St Thomas’ Hospital, later becoming a journalist on the Beaverbrook press. It was during this period that he met his teacher Dr. Walter Johannes Stein – a Viennese scientist and historian and expert on medieval and ancient art. Stein was in fact a student and associate of the great teacher Rudolf Steiner.
It was through Stein’s deep and earnest pursuit of occultism that he first met Hitler in Vienna when he was a student. He came to know Hitler personally, at a point where Hitler had come to learn of the legend of the spear and its power.
Ravenscroft for a time was spiritual advisor to the Shah of Iran.
Sew Colorful 
