When I was young, my [non-LDS] mother impressed upon me the need for careful punctuation by reciting this phrase:

“Good, by god, I’m going to Arkansas.”

A missing comma, she explained, gives this alternate version:

“Goodbye God, I’m going to Arkansas.”

This came to mind when I read that archaeologists, planning to exhume Parley P. Pratt and rebury him in Utah, could find no trace of him in his grave.

Parley had a great sense of humor. I’d like to think that he’s laughing about this.

I’ve been nosing around Tim Malone’s blog, Latter-day Commentary.

I like his site’s title and subtitle: “Latter-day Commentary — In which news, politics and religion are mixed - a potentially volatile combination.”

I just read his post about multiple versions of the First Vision and a comment there by S. Faux.

Amen to both.

Here’s a cartoon that appeared on my old Exceedingly Curious site:

After 151 years, Parley’s going home.

Here’s a post I wrote in February 2007:

Par-LAY, as fans of Pirates of the Caribbean are well aware, means “a discussion or conference, especially one between enemies over terms of truce or other matters.” (Thanks, Wikipedia.)

In the movie, parley is a plot device and a running joke.

PAR-lee, on the other hand, brings to mind Parley P. Pratt (12 April 1807–13 May 1857), a member of the original Quorum of Twelve Apostles in this dispensation.

The Autobiography of Parley Parker Pratt is an inspiring and entertaining read.

Here’s a small taste.

In the fall of 1830, Parley was arrested on a frivolous charge in Ohio and the “Judge . . . boasted of his intention to thrust us into prison, for the purpose of testing the powers of our apostleship, as he called it; although I was only an Elder in the Church. The Judge boasting thus, and the witnesses being entirely false in their testimony, [I] concluded to make no defense, but to treat the whole matter with contempt.”

In fact, Parley decides to escape. Here’s his telling of the event:

After sitting awhile by the fire in charge of the officer, I requested to step out. I walked out into the public square accompanied by him.

Said I, “Mr. Peabody, are you good at a race?”

“No,” said he, “but my big bull dog is, and he has been trained to assist me in my office these several years; he will take any man down at my bidding.”

“Well, Mr. Peabody, you compelled me to go a mile, I have gone with you two miles. You have given me an opportunity to preach, sing, and have also entertained me with lodging and breakfast. I must now go on my journey; if you are good at a race you can accompany me. I thank you for all your kindness—good day, sir.”

I then started on my journey, while he stood amazed and not able to step one foot before the other. Seeing this, I halted, turned to him and again invited him to a race. He still stood amazed. I then renewed my exertions, and soon increased my speed to something like that of a deer.

He did not awake from his astonishment sufficiently to start in pursuit till I had gained, perhaps, two hundred yards. I had already leaped a fence, and was making my way through a field to the forest on the right of the road. He now came hallowing after me, and shouting to his dog to seize me. The dog, being one of the largest I ever saw, came close on my footsteps with all his fury; the officer behind still in pursuit, clapping his hands and hallooing, “stu-boy, stu-boy — take him — watch — lay hold of him, I say — down with him,” and pointing his finger in the direction I was running.

The dog was fast overtaking me and in the act of leaping upon me, when, quick as lightning, the thought struck me, to assist the officer in sending the dog with all fury to the forest a little distance before me. I pointed my finger in that direction, clapped my hands, and shouted in imitation of the officer. The dog hastened past me with redoubled speed towards the forest; being urged by the officer and myself, and both of us running in the same direction.

Gaining the forest, I soon lost sight of the officer and dog, and have not seen them since.

There is an inordinate amount of crap hogwash on the net, as any Mormon who’s surfed for more than a minute can tell you.

YouTube alone — I love YouTube and have posted videos there — YouTube along makes up a healthy unhealthy dose of dreck.

Want to see a rich supply of interesting and rewarding vids?

Go to Roots Television.

Even if you are not into genealogy, go there. There’s lots of good stuff.

The first thing I watched when I visited was Belle of the Ball by Waddie Mitchell.

Really good stuff.

There is an LDS cartoon site that I like, called The 9th Ward. They feature real cartoons, not the recycled drawings I offer.

This cartoon made me laugh and reminded me of one I’d concocted on the same topic:

Ken Jennings, member of the Church and Jeopardy! winner extraordinaire, has posted a three-part interview with Carlo Panno, a former Jeopardy!staff writer—a guy who for five years helped come up with and verify clues on the show.

Though Panno hasn’t written for Jeopardy! in ten years or so, he has many interesting stories about the program, the answers and questions, and about Alex Trebek.

Here’s one of the things Panno says,

“Alex was one of the best bosses I ever had. Once, when we all had a briefing on a new insurance plan, Alex answered the phones and booked contestants for an hour. He was the only one not on that insurance plan, being covered by AFTRA instead. He was thoughtful and intelligent, and I liked him a lot.”

At the end of part one, you can follow Ken’s links (Tomorrow. Then End of interview.) to continue reading, or you can come back here and use the Part two and Part three links.

Part one

Part two

Part three