Week 802: DreckTV


As (sometime between now and June) analog-TV watchers suddenly find their rabbit ears twitching to no avail, some of them might finally break down and sign up with one of America's most beloved utilities (as fire hydrants are beloved by dogs), cable television. Sometime Loser Marcy Alvo of Annandale notes that her system still lists some channels "reserved for future programming," so . . . This week: Suggest a new cable TV channel, with a description or example of its programming. Remember that space is limited in the leaner, meaner Washington Post, so please don't send the whole TV Guide.

Winner gets the Inker, the official Style Invitational trophy. Second place receives a computer game called Tabloid Tycoon, donated by Peter Metrinko, in which you commit various acts of dubious journalism "to build your rag's sales." This is, we wish to make clear, not the official training software of the Washington Post circulation department.

Other runners-up win a coveted Style Invitational Loser T-shirt. Honorable Mentions get one of the lusted-after Style Invitational Magnets. First Offenders get a smelly tree-shaped air "freshener" (Fir Stink for their First Ink). One prize per entrant per week. Send your entries by e-mail to losers@washpost.com or by fax to 202-334-4312. Deadline is Monday, Feb. 9. Put "Week 802" in the subject line of your e-mail, or it risks being ignored as spam. Include your name, postal address and phone number with your entry. Contests are judged on the basis of humor and originality. All entries become the property of The Washington Post. Entries may be edited for taste or content. Results will be published Feb. 28. No purchase required for entry. Employees of The Washington Post, and their immediate relatives, are not eligible for prizes. Pseudonymous entries will be disqualified. The revised title for next week's results is by Dudley Thompson of Cary, N.C.; this week's Honorable Mentions name is by Russell Beland; the Honorable Mention names on the Web supplement are by Tom Witte and Chris Doyle.

Report from Week 798, our annual look back in verse at some of those who died last year.

Not enough tasteless (and occasionally tasteful) eulogizing here? More Honorable Mentions can be found at http://www.washingtonpost.styleinvitational.

4. Earl Butz, agriculture secretary forced to resign over a crude racist joke:
Awaiting Earl on his day to die:
Tight lid, loose soil, warm place to lie. (Jay Shuck, Minneapolis)

3. We bid farewell to Mildred Loving, interracial marrier,
Who fought so that the words "I do" were free of any barrier.
In later years she wore her fame with dignity and grace,
For marriage is a journey, and not just a single race.
(Brendan Beary, Great Mills)

2. the winner of the bathroom-diorama tissue box:
Wham-O co-founder Richard Knerr:

The Hula-Hoop, the SuperBall,
The Frisbee disk, brought to us all
by Richard Knerr: That brilliant goof
Has landed on his final roof.
(Jerry Ewing, Orlando)

And the Winner of the Inker

"I fear I am exanimate," Bill Buckley gravely said,
"And now eremacausis is beginning in my head.
"What's this? Vile putrefaction, loam and plinthite for my bed?"
"It really is quite simple," said his Maker: "Bill, you're dead."
(Jeff Brechlin, Eagan, Minn.)

Be Not Proud: Honorable Mentions

Popeye's founder Al Copeland:
His spicy pullets were his pride,
Cooked up at Popeye's Famous Fried.
He made a killing, there's no doubt,
But now, I fear, he's chickened out.
(Beverley Sharp, Washington)

James Bevel:
Bevel was close when King parted the waters
Sadly, he also was close to his daughters.
(Ira Allen, Bethesda)

Bobby Fischer was to chess
What Saint Laurent was to the dress:
A luminous creative force.
He soon become world champ, of course,
Which made the Russians truly sick
(Too bad he was a lunatic).
(Stephen Gold, Glasgow, Scotland)

The millionaire'd vowed to balloon o'er the main,
Despite the naysayers who'd scoff.
But alas, the good luck didn't hold for his plane,
And the gods had Steve Fossett turned off.
(Christopher Lamora, Arlington)

William F. Buckley, as he surely would tell us
With apt erudition, is pushing up Bellis.
(Phyllis Reinhard, East Fallowfield, Pa.)

"We thought alike," says The Decider,
" 'Cept Bill was slightly eruditer."
(Jay Shuck)

Adelir Antonio de Carli:
O Father de Carli, your blessed journey's done:
You tied your chair to a thousand balloons;
You needed a thousand and one.
(John Sholar, Silver Spring, a First Offender)

Dock Ellis, who pitched a no-hitter after taking LSD:
Pitched a "no-no" while on acid,
Once high-strung, he's now quite placid,
On his gravestone you will see,
"Pitcher, Tripper: Ellis, D."
(Dave Zarrow, Reston)

W. Mark Felt:
Mark Felt sure was hopin'
The Post would break open
The Watergate scandal real wide.
And so he went Deep,
To ensure that the CREEP
Would get quality time spent inside.
(Dave Zarrow)

Mel Ferrer:
Mel is dead and buried where
He won't be coming up Ferrer.
(Chris Doyle, Ponder, Tex.)

Charlton Heston's stiff and cold;
His time on Earth is done.
I guess they finally got the chance
To pry away his gun.
(Anne Paris, Arlington)

As charioteer he earned his due,
And now he's making "Soylent II."
(Tom Witte, Montgomery Village)

I first saw sexy Bettie Page
In '55, when 10 years old,
And still today my hormones rage.
I bet she's Heaven's centerfold!
(Chris Doyle)

For Bettie Page, the die is cast.
Around the globe, men fly half-mast.
(Jeffrey Contompasis, Ashburn)

Eartha Kitt, who died on Christmas Day:
Reaper Baby,
You took away our beloved Ms. Kitt -- that's it
She's an angel, it's clear.
Reaper Baby,
Why'd ya hurry down on Christmas last year?
(Vicki Zatarain, Washington)

Maila Nurmi, a.k.a. Vampira:
Hope you don't require a
Weird chick like Vampira,
For it now must be said
She's no longer undead.
(Karen Albamonti, North Kingstown, R.I.)

House Peters Jr., actor in a famous commercial:
We sure hate to say it (we know it will hurt),
But eww, Mr. Clean . . . you're all covered with dirt.
(Beverley Sharp)

Elwin "Preacher" Roe:
Preacher Roe, with spunk and spit,
Could throw a fastball none could hit.
His throws were legal to the letter;
(Except they were a wee bit wetter).
(Tom Murphy, Bowie)

Before the days of Al Shaheen,
Men's shirts weren't colored citrus green,
Al popularized the Hawaiian shirt.
In patterns that made a glass eye hurt,
Elvis and Magnum thank that kid,
As also does my Uncle Sid.
(Bruce W. Alter, Fairfax Station)

Heaven's going very well,
But Alexander Solzhenitsyn
Wants, and gets, a tour of Hell:
It's Joseph Stalin's pit he spits in.
(Chris Doyle)

Sunny von Bülow:
What a bummer to be Sunny:
Life with Claus sure wasn't funny.
If you fear a sugar coma,
Check to see just who is home-a.
(Jeff Brechlin)

Donald Westlake, a.k.a. Richard Stark:
Donald Westlake, Richard Stark,
Their work was none too shoddy.
Two writers died last year, but cops
Have only found one body.
(Brendan Beary)

And Dead Last:

The Peruvian Songbird sang legends of love;
Now the Andean Nightingale sings from above.
Shedding her birth name was wise. 'Cause "Adio-
"s to Yma Sumac" scans better than "Adios to Zoila Augusta Emperatriz Chavarri del Castillo."
(Ellen Raphaeli, Falls Church)

Next Week: Send Us the Bill, or Greetings From Law-Law Land

Passed Oeuvre, or Requiem Misses: More Honorable Mentions for Style Invitational Week 798

More poems about people who died in 2008:

Earl Butz:

Is your coffin too loose
Or is it too tight?
Well, if it's too warm,
It might be just right.
(Roy Ashley, Washington)

Bo Diddley:

Ellas McDaniel, né Ellas Bates
(Bomp-a-bomp-a-bomp, bomp-bomp)
Sure was one of them rockin' greats
(Bomp-a-bomp-a-bomp, bomp-bomp).
If you think that it just ain't so,
(Bomp-a-bomp-a-bomp, bomp-bomp)
Let's just say that you don't know Diddley.
(Dave Zarrow, Reston)

Now that Bo Diddley has joined the elect
In that big lowdown blues band above,
I can finally whisper, with all due respect,
"It should've been 'Whom do you love?' "
(David Smith, Santa Cruz, Calif.)

George Carlin passed away last year
A true and noted wit
He laughed at our obscenities
Can you believe that ____?
He made a lot of people mad
For being rather blunt
With words like ____ and ____ and _____
And the ever-famous ____.
The guys in suits all treated him
Like a nasty old ___-______,
But we all best remember him
As a funny ______-______.
(Alan Hochbaum, Atlanta)

W. Mark Felt:

You may well think the chance remote
That one remembered as Deep Throat
Could bring the White House to its knees,
Submerged in wickedness and sleaze.
And yet, Mark Felt (for it was he)
Contrived in secret trinity
With Woodward, Bernstein of The Post,
To turn a president to toast.
His family chose to tell us all
Before he answered heaven's call.
Did Nixon greet him, full of grace?
No chance: Dick's in that other place.
(Stephen Gold, Glasgow, Scotland)

Charlton Heston:

He kissed an ape right on the lips
And Cleopatra, too;
He rowed on mighty fighting ships
And fought ants in Peru.
He sculpted David in the nude
And parted the Red Sea;
He once ate processed-human food
And led a symphony.
Yet for all the roles he was extolled,
Chuck said his biggest thrill
Was assuring guns stay uncontrolled
To protect our right to kill.
(David Garratt, Glenn Dale)

William F. Buckley, as everyone knows
Affected a plummy conservative pose.
And gazed with but one point of view: down his nose.
(Tom Murphy, Bowie)

When he pitched for Chicago, young Geremi Gonzalez
Brought heat that was utterly fright'ning.
So the batters he fanned might be feeling some solace
To hear he was struck dead by lightning.
(Chris Doyle, Ponder, Tex.)

When I researched Heath Ledger on the World Wide Web, it
Showed a lot of credits and one terrible debit.
(Dave Zarrow)

Bettie Page:

The old skin mags of yesteryear all knew that sex appeal
Embraced the yin and yang of what to show and to conceal.
But something died as high tech spawned a porn proliferation;
There's little on the net that's left to one's imagination.
The sauciness and camp are gone; the ebb of taste is steady --
The mags and Web sites nowadays have got no Page like Bettie.
(Brendan Beary, Great Mills)

The curtain drops. The End. [Applause]
It's Harold Pinter's final pause.
(Chris Doyle)

Yves Saint Laurent:

The models will still have their shmattes to don,
Some striking and some of them strange;
The runways in Paris, the shows in Milan,
That part isn't likely to change.
But Saint Laurent's house has been mute and subdued,
No rumors or gossip to hear;
And folks in the trade say the taciturn mood
Is due to Yves' dropping last year.
(Brendan Beary)

Cardiac surgeon Michael DeBakey:

DeBakey proved he had some smarts:
Healed 60,000 broken hearts.
Let's plan a big-time accolade --
Perhaps a ticker tape parade?
(Beverley Sharp, Washington)

Cyd Charisse:

Her dancing days on Earth are done,
But someone waits for Cyd Charisse.
With Fred Astaire, she'll have such fun
She won't have time to rest in peace.
(Chris Doyle)

Sydney Pollack:

He brought us Out of Africa and showed The Way We Were,
The public sang his praises, and Oscar did concur.
But now the odds on more awards aren't looking too propitious,
For sadly, Sydney Pollack is directing with the fishes.
(Barry Koch, Catlett, Va.)

Roy Scheider:

Played police chief Martin Brody;
Shark attacked; remains were grody!
Helped the village folk to cope;
(Might be called the Great White hope).
Now he's breathed his final breath:
Swam into the Jaws of Death.
(Beverley Sharp, Washington)