Home | Holygrailpress

Word of the Every So Often

logorrheic: (adj.) Let’s start with the Greek. “Logos,” in Greek, means, more or less, “words” or “speech,” or even “reasoning,” which involves those words and speech. So, for instance, a “logophile” is a lover of words. “Logorrheic” (pronounced: low-go-rye-ick) is the adjectival form of “logorrhea” (pronounced: laa-gah-ree-ah), which, at its worse, is a mental illness (or a symptom of other mental illnesses) where the individual suffers from excessive, and often incoherent babbling. Or it can just refer to somebody who isn’t truly mentally ill, but just doesn’t know when to shut up, and makes little sense of what she or he says. Such as... The president gave yet another logorrheic speech, though the press secretary assured the public that he was not suffering from logorrhea.

The Almost Daily

It’s National Corvette Day! It was on this day in 1953 that the first Corvette rolled off the assembly line. The sticker price, which included the only two options available (a heater and an AM radio), was $3,734. To put that in perspective, that was right at the average income for an entire year in 1953. If you were wanting to buy a new Corvette – right now in 2026 – depending on your options (which are more than a heater and a radio), it will run you from around $72,000 for the basic model, all the way up to over $230,000 for the deluxe model. The average salary in the United States, right now is around $66,000. That means a Corvette costs around 20% more today than it did in 1953. Unless, of course, you’re wanting to buy a 1953 Corvette today. That’ll run you anywhere from $170,000 to $370,000, still with only a radio and a heater.

And now my Corvette story. It’s the one that got away. Back in 1978 I had an opportunity to buy a 1959 Corvette for $1200. Granted, the car was rough, but it ran, but that’s still dirt cheap. Now days, $1200... no problem. Then, I couldn’t even get close. I’m told the guy who bought it spent around $5000 on it and turned around and sold it for $30,000. And so it goes.

Cartoon of the Week

Chimps Ahoy

Stuff

The Ballad of Mordaci Bloode

Screaming Death was the most sought after band.

They played the biggest houses throughout the land.

With his platform shoes

and his bellbottom pants,

his leather fringed shirt

and his funky little dance,

Mordaci Bloode would strut across the stage,

bustin’ guitars with the crowd in a rage.

And when Mordaci ventured out for a beer,

people would stop and people would stare.

But Mordaci, Mordaci,

Mordaci Bloode just didn’t care.

And when rock turned to disco

and disco turned to punk,

Mordaci said,

“Who needs this junk?”

And he still kicked amps

and busted guitars,

and he and his roadies

would trash out the bars.

But towns grew thinner

and the crowds grew lean,

and then the band members said,

“We’re splittin’ this scene.”

And Mordaci shouted

that he didn’t care,

but you just can’t have a concert

when there’s nobody there.

Now Mordaci sits at the bar

drinking alone.

The fans have all left him,

the roadies gone home.

And nobody bothers

to stop and stare

at his outrageous clothing

or his wild, busy hair,

and none of his songs

are played over the air,

because nobody, but nobody,

nobody cares.

Comments? Criticism? Insults? Money Orders?

Earl, our editor, wants to hear from you!

(But that doesn't necessarily mean you'll hear from him.)

Send your messages or bank account information to:

Earl@holygrailpress.com