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.
The clock faces are ten minutes in disgreement in this temporal anomaly documented by Wake Forest's 1991 yearbook. We tend to blame the toilet paper for causing a disturbance in the fabric of space/time. Mark Anderson has asked, "Is architecture toilet paper or timeless art?" The clock faces seem to answer that question: timeless.
"In darkness there is no choice. It is light that enables us to see the difference between things." —Two Brothers [Julius Charles Hare, Augustus William Hare, 1889]. From Marion's 1923 yearbook.
Here's a precursor to that line in John Waters' Pecker, in which an obscene caller asks for a body part to be put up to the phone. The caption reads, "Put your sweet lips a little closer to the phone." From Georgia Southern's 1962 yearbook.
What the recipe books never admit: any one confection can give rise to worry, accusation, joy, anger, and questioning (as depicted here). The larger the baked good, the wider the range of emotions it engenders. From Mansfield's 1919 yearbook.
We've endured some fairly stressful English teachers, so this headline rings true. "Humanity stressed by English faculty." From Charleston Southern's 1972 yearbook.
"Light is weightless, and yet it is so real that it provides the yardstick for measuring the universe" (George Seielstad, 1962). From Duke's 1969 yearbook.