CRAIG CONLEY (Prof. Oddfellow) is recognized by Encarta as “America’s most creative and diligent scholar of letters, words and punctuation.” He has been called a “language fanatic” by Page Six gossip columnist Cindy Adams, a “cult hero” by Publisher’s Weekly, a “monk for the modern age” by George Parker, and “a true Renaissance man of the modern era, diving headfirst into comprehensive, open-minded study of realms obscured or merely obscure” by Clint Marsh. An eccentric scholar, Conley’s ideas are often decades ahead of their time. He invented the concept of the “virtual pet” in 1980, fifteen years before the debut of the popular “Tamagotchi” in Japan. His virtual pet, actually a rare flower, still thrives and has reached an incomprehensible size. Conley’s website is OneLetterWords.com.
She's looking into the reflecting sphere to see if she'll graduate, but the thing about reflecting spheres, as opposed to crystal balls, is that they don't factor in wildcard timelines. From Rockford's 1914 yearbook.
You might have instantly seen the weirdness here -- the earth in the mirror isn't reversed, meaning that she's looking at a parallel world in which everything is flipped. From Rockford's 1914 yearbook.
[Inexplicable images from generations ago invite us to restore the lost
sense of immediacy. We follow the founder of the Theater of
Spontaneity, Jacob Moreno, who proposed stringing together "now and then
flashes" to unfetter illusion and let imagination run free. The images
we have collected for this series came at a tremendous price, which we explained previously.]
To this day, "the sun dial shadows its" is a Googlewhack. We're not sure if the phrase is meant to be poetic or whether a word got left out. But it's nice to see a sun dial's shadow, which most often gets overlooked in favor of the sun's shadow on the dial itself. From Montreat-Anderson's 1962 yearbook.
At first glance, we assumed the bag was a marotte papoose (and "marotte papoose" is a Googlewhack; you're welcome). But apparently this clown believes in his elf. (See How to Believe in Your Elf.) From Colorado College's 1904 yearbook.