"Cups are used for quenching thirst across a wide range of cultures and social classes, and different styles of cups may be used for different liquids or in different situations."

"Cups of different styles may be used for different types of liquids or other foodstuffs (e.g. teacups and measuring cups), in different situations (e.g. at water stations or in ceremonies and rituals), or for decoration.... Cups are an obvious improvement on using cupped hands or feet to hold liquids. They have almost certainly been used since before recorded history, and have been found at archaeological sites throughout the world. Prehistoric cups were sometimes fashioned from shells and hollowed out stones.... There is an evidence that the Roman Empire may have spread the use of cups throughout Europe, with notable examples including silver cups in Wales and a color-changing glass cup in ancient Thrace...."

I'm reading the Wikipedia entry "Cup."

I was contemplating cups as I was out running this morning, mainly because a familiar song lyric with the word "cup" came up again on my November-sunrise-running playlist, and I often get hung up on the idea in that song and in 2 other songs I've liked for a long time. Maybe it was the endorphins, but I got to imagining writing an entire book about cups and could see all the chapter headings. Back home at my desk, following my standard sitting-at-a-desk approach to exploring a sprawling concept, I looked up the word on Wikipedia.

I love the line "Cups are an obvious improvement on using cupped hands or feet to hold liquids." That slight deviation from Wikipedia flatness — "obvious" — amuses me. And then there are the 2 words that are so weird I didn't even see them on first read: "or feet."

What's the color-changing glass cup from Thrace? — you may wonder. It's the Lycurgus Cup — "a 4th-century Roman glass cage cup made of a dichroic glass, which shows a different colour depending on whether or not light is passing through it: red when lit from behind and green when lit from in front":

 

That's King Lycurgus who tries to kill Ambrosia after Ambrosia turned into a vine that twined itself around the king. The king eventually dies (in this myth) and Dionysus laughs at him.

Yes — I am answering unheard questions — my unwritten book includes the communion cup and the  cups in tarot cards. Yes, I have thought of bra cups and the World Cup and other trophies.

The song on my playlist was "Full Measure" by the Lovin' Spoonful, which begins: "The full measure of your giving/You don't yet understand/A cupful of living/That you hold in your hand." The other 2 "cup" songs are "Across the Universe" ("Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup, they slither wildly as they slip away across the universe") and "Danny's Song" ("Love the girl who holds the world in a paper cup/Drink it up...").

If you're like me, you're wondering whether the Lovin' Spoonful cup was — like the "Across the Universe" cup and the "Danny's Song" cup — a paper cup.

Notice that all 3 songs visualize the cup as containing grand and exalted space — life, the universe, the world. Thus, this post gets my #1 all-time favorite tag, "big and small." And I'm making a new tag now — "cups" — and will add it retroactively, so wait an hour and click it, if you enjoy the random delights of the archive. While you're waiting, why not have a drink? Use a cup. It's obviously better than cupping your hands or your feet.

"Hong Kong activists wear Joker and Winnie-the-Pooh masks as they form human chains in defiance of ban on face coverings."

The Daily Mail reports.

Chinese internet users have joked that Chinese president Xi Jinping resembles AA Milne's Winnie-the-Pooh - leading the country's censors to scrub online references to it. Many protesters have been seen wearing masks of the character in an apparent effort to mock the leader....

The photo at the link doesn't show a Winnie-the-Pooh mask, but an image that combines Winnie-the-Pooh and Xi:



It's hard for me to absorb the mockery, if that is what is intended. I feel nothing but affection toward Winnie-the-Pooh. In fact, I was just listening to this lovely song...



... so resembling Winnie-the-Pooh feels totally positive.

The Anxiety Clown.

I was looking for an image of an "anxiety clown," because I was speculating — at the end of the previous post — that the use of the epithet "clown" to describe your antagonists reveals your own anxiety. You may want to say that your opponent is stupid and ridiculous, but people are anxious about clowns, so you're saying — perhaps unwittingly — I am unnerved and scared of my opponent.

I really just wanted to add an image at the end of that other post, but I stumbled upon that picture of Joseph Grimaldi (18 December 1778 – 31 May 1837) — an English actor who "expanded the role of Clown in the harlequinade that formed part of British pantomimes." The Clown took on the name "Joey" (for Joseph) and "both the nickname and Grimaldi's whiteface make-up design were, and still are, used by other types of clowns."

Grimaldi became recognised as one of London's leading Clowns. Grimaldi originated the catchphrase "Here we are again!", which is still used in pantomime. He also was known for the mischievous catchphrase "Shall I?", which prompted audience members to respond "Yes!"

But what made me break out that image for a separate post was the caption: "Detail from hand-coloured etching by George Cruikshank (1792 – 1878), first published in the 19th century."

Cruikshank! Man, I love blogging! We were just talking about Cruikshank! Remember? "Snuffing Out Boney" and "At the Monstrosities Café."

You know, Grimaldi's Clown was — according to the above-linked Wikipedia article — "the 'undisputed agent' of chaos." There's a lot of chaos in blogging. You have to love the chaos — and not be anxious about it — to blog (really blog). And if you're living in the chaos, when things match up — harmony strikes — it's a full-body thrill,  like the "frisson" (or "aesthetic chills" that "roughly two-thirds" of us can get from music.

Do you get that? The frisson? From what? I'd read the articles on people who get it from music — it was a trending topic in May 2016 — and noticed that I hadn't been getting that from music lately. But just in these last few weeks, I've noticed myself getting chills from songs that, intellectually, I believe are below my actual, official taste level. Just yesterday, I got chills on repeated listenings to Richard Harris singing about Camelot, which I'd brought up in the comments here, after somebody had quoted an anti-Trumper's confession "I carry a little plastic Obama doll in my purse." And later that day, listening to the car radio as we drove out to Blue Mounds, I got chills over "Please Come To Boston" — a song I wasn't aware I especially admired. Back when it was a hit, in the 1970s, I probably turned off the radio if the song came on.

And isn't Trump a bit like that? He is for me. I don't particularly like him. I don't know why he should be assessed as any good at all. He seems like a ridiculous man who belongs in a past decade (the 80s). But in some confounding physical way, he hits a button.

I am reading the Wikipedia article on "Please Come to Boston," and I see it was the first single from [Dave Loggins's] album Apprentice (In a Musical Workshop)." The Apprentice! See? Random resonance, attainable through blogging. It's all only chaos, and coincidences are part of the randomness.

The three verses of the song are each a plea from the narrator to a woman he hopes will join him in, respectively, Boston, Denver, and Los Angeles, with each verse concluding: "She said 'No - boy would you come home to me'"; the woman's sentiment is elaborated on in the chorus which concludes with the line: "I'm the number one fan of the man from Tennessee." Tennessee is the home state of Dave Loggins, who has said of "Please Come to Boston" - "The story is almost true, except there wasn't anyone waiting so I made her up. In effect, making the longing for her stronger.... Some forty years later, I still vividly remember that night, and it was as if someone else was writing the song."

Someone else was writing the song... for a woman who did not exist. I just hope there really was a girl who holds the world in a paper cup.

Here we are again! Shall I? Yes!

ADDED: My hope that "there really was a girl who holds the world in a paper cup" doesn't work as a hope. I assumed there was only one Loggins, but there are 2 — the Dave Loggins of "Please Come to Boston" and the Kenny Loggins of the girl who holds the world in a paper cup in "Danny's Song." So there was a girl like that, but she wasn't Dave's. She wasn't Kenny's either. Kenny wrote the song for his brother Danny. The line "think I'm going to have a son," didn't refer to a son of Kenny's named Danny. The son was Danny's boy Colin. Colin was also the inspiration for "House at Pooh Corner":



In other late-breaking Loggins family news (to me), Kenny and Dave are second cousins. They're both 70 now.

AND: I'm confused by too many Loggins and too many log ins.

Another entry in the reconsidering-the-70s series.

Last week, you may remember, Meade pushed me to reconsider America. The band, America. I scoffed, because I scoffed back in the 70s. Today — on my own, unprompted by Meade, just based on hearing this song on the satellite radio — I want to take you back to the utterly douchey charming music of Loggins and Messina:



"Love the girl who holds the world in a paper cup/Drink it up..."

ADDED: I'd heard this song many times, but for some reason it was a complete surprise to me that it was called "Danny's Song." Somebody should make a list of songs with titles that don't pop up anywhere in the lyrics. Speaking of lyrics, there's a line "Seems as though, a month ago, I was Beta Chi/Never got high." What's Beta Chi? A fraternity? Googling I got to the amusing Urban Dictionary definition: "a word used by kenny loggins in his version of 'danny's song.'" There's a second definition, and it's twice as down-voted as up-voted so I won't quote it. Ah, a little more searching and I get a message board discussing the lyric and somebody says: "Dan Loggins was my fraternity brother in Beta Chi at Cal State University in Los Angeles in the mid 60's. Hope this sheds some light on this subject."

YEARS LATER: I confuse Kenny Loggins with Dave "Please Come to Boston" Loggins