Mediocre Monday Edition

I slacked off on the insomniac creativity over the weekend; all that's on offer to start this week is the third instalment of The Potemkin Museum of Antique Humour. Despite the fact that I consider this idea one of my better whimsies, the response so far has been a lot less than whelming. Now that the first three posts of the series are up in the chronological order I planned for them, there's no good reason to expect that to change. All the same, I'll continue with at least one more entry; now that I've located my copy of Paul Jennings Golden Oddlies, I can set about transcribing and posting the promised How to Spiel Halma.

Before the series finally tanks, I'd just like to remind readers of the original rationale for the Museum, espeially this part:

You'll find that some of the material is quite dated: re-reading some of the books, I wonder what I found so amusing that I was willing to shell out $2.00 secondhand or $5.00 remaindered for them. Still, one or two pieces might stand up, dated though they are and, as for the rest, they might have cautionary value. Looking at the society and blogosphere around me, I'm leaning towards the view that a few people might benefit from a gentle reminder that nothing gets old anywhere near as quickly as bad humour.

That said, I'm still disappointed with the reception Nicolas Bentley exhibit received: it's one piece that hasn't dated nearly as badly as you might think at first glance. That's because it isn't bad humour.