I know I'm an old fogey and all, but I just can't believe someone actually published a book with that title. I mean, not counting something assembled out of notebook paper by a 12-year-old boy.
I know. And that's only a tame example. I would not have known about this series of books except that my cousin's son, when he was in kindergarten, came home one day talking about this really hilarious book the teacher had read them. My cousin was kind of horrified, and what horrified her more was that when she went to talk to the teacher about it, the teacher really couldn't understand why anyone would object, and in general dealt with my cousin (who appears far, far saner than I do, let me tell you) as if she were a wingnut who needed handling with caution.
I blogged about it a long time ago at First Things, during that brief moment of my life . . . but I also mentioned it here: http://fineoldfamly.blogspot.com/2008/01/losing-oxygen-to-cultural-brain.html. Of course, I'd forgotten that when I wrote about Walter, I didn't myself have a dog; now that I do, I still don't think Walter is that funny. What do I do when my dog does that? Put him outside. End of story.
Anyway, I just figured that that must be the connection . . . snotty, farting. . . if you like one, you like 'em all, right? I mean, in the realm of children's literature.
I remembered that I downloaded a free book when I was watching Penelope one day and it turned out to be an environmental screed disguised as a picture book. It had some scatological elements that might have led to the suggestion of this book. I removed it from the Kindle immediately, but it had done it's dirty work.
If you figure it out, we probably won't mind if you don't tell us.:-)
ReplyDeleteI knew you were a secret reader of Walter the Farting Dog.
ReplyDeleteNobody has actually ever said anything like that to me before. I guess it's so secret that I don't even know about it.
ReplyDeleteAMDG
I know I'm an old fogey and all, but I just can't believe someone actually published a book with that title. I mean, not counting something assembled out of notebook paper by a 12-year-old boy.
ReplyDeleteI know. And that's only a tame example. I would not have known about this series of books except that my cousin's son, when he was in kindergarten, came home one day talking about this really hilarious book the teacher had read them. My cousin was kind of horrified, and what horrified her more was that when she went to talk to the teacher about it, the teacher really couldn't understand why anyone would object, and in general dealt with my cousin (who appears far, far saner than I do, let me tell you) as if she were a wingnut who needed handling with caution.
ReplyDeleteI blogged about it a long time ago at First Things, during that brief moment of my life . . . but I also mentioned it here: http://fineoldfamly.blogspot.com/2008/01/losing-oxygen-to-cultural-brain.html. Of course, I'd forgotten that when I wrote about Walter, I didn't myself have a dog; now that I do, I still don't think Walter is that funny. What do I do when my dog does that? Put him outside. End of story.
Anyway, I just figured that that must be the connection . . . snotty, farting. . . if you like one, you like 'em all, right? I mean, in the realm of children's literature.
ReplyDeleteI remembered that I downloaded a free book when I was watching Penelope one day and it turned out to be an environmental screed disguised as a picture book. It had some scatological elements that might have led to the suggestion of this book. I removed it from the Kindle immediately, but it had done it's dirty work.
ReplyDeleteAMDG
Is it any wonder that pre-1960 children books command such a high price?
ReplyDeleteBut along this unhappy vein... Spell check tells me that "pre" is misspelled. It strongly suggests "pee."