Hand made wood and grass mini planter jewelry by Mr. Lentz
“I create and design functional items and jewelry – mostly out of reclaimed wood and upcycled materials from salvage yards. I have always been a creator – influenced largely by not wanting to fall into the black hole of uncreativity that is the majority of the working world in this country. My aim has always been to find beauty and share it with others. I enjoy evenings in the deserts of the Southwest where I sit in my workshop, chopping wood and photographing while blasting 90′s electronic dance music… followed by a good country song or two.”
Why you should be in passionate horny love with Elizabeth ‘Nellie Bly’ Cochrane
Born in 1864/65, Elizabeth, one of 15 children, was always ‘the rebellious one’. Fierce as fuck from an early age, she testified against her abusive stepfather in her mother’s divorce trial.
In 1880 she enrolled in a teacher-training college but had to leave after her first semester due to lack of funding - then moved to Pittsburgh to help run a goddamn boarding school.
This is where we get to the good shit. Age 18, she wrote a letter-to-the-editor of the Pittsburgh Dispatch bitchslapping the everloving fuck out of a sexist ballsack of an article entitled ‘What Girls Are Good For’.
The editor was so goddamn wooed by her razor-sharp tongue that he RAN AN AD asking her to identify herself. Elizabeth owned up, and was hired instantaneously, her badassery radiating from her pores and intoxicating all within a twenty mile radius.
Working under the pen-name Nellie Bly, Elizabeth kicked the butts of morons everywhere, writing articles aimed at social justice, particularly labour laws to protect working ‘girls’ and reform of Pennsylvania’s divorce law, which greatly favoured men.
Not content with changing the world from behind her desk, Elizabeth became a founding mother of investigative journalism. She was expelled from Mexico for exposing political corruption, and henceforth wrapped in cotton wool by her editors. Infuriated by their mollycoddling, Lizzie left them a note essentially telling them to fuck themselves and hot footed it to NYC. She was still only 23.
Within six months she was hired by Joseph fucking Pulitzer himself, and continued her batshit crazy investigations uninhibited. Her very first assingment had her feigning mental illness to expose repulsive conditions in Blackwell’s Island Insane Asylum. Her cutting report was so fucking horrifying, compelling and persuasive that it triggered public and political action, leading to reform of the institution.
In the next couple of years she had herself thrown in jail and hired by a sweatshop, all for shits and giggles. Oh, and to uncover incomprehensible injustice, cruelty, poverty, and the concealed, heinous treatment of the vulnerable and voiceless.
But was pioneering journalism, social revolution and batshit badassery enough for our Liz? Like fuck it was. On a whim Nellie did what any self-respecting 25 year old woman in the 1800s would do - she emulated Jules Verne’s Around the World in Eighty Days, and did it in 72.
Millions followed her journey, and its appeal to a semi-literate populace resulted in greatly increased newspaper readership. So while travelling the entire globe (IN THE 1800s, AS A WOMAN) by ship, train, burro and balloon, she helped the world to read.
Having essentially conquered the entire goddamn universe before hitting 30, Nellie retired, and wed 72 year old industrialist Robert Seaman. Their marriage was a happy one, and after his death she took over Iron Clad Manufacturing Co.
But Lizzie was a writer, what would she know about the metal industry? Well, she INVENTED the steel barrel that became the model for the widely used 55-gallon drum and turned her inherited businesses into multimillion-dollar companies, so apparently a fuck ton.
Furthermore, she set a precedent for working conditions, ensuring her workers had good pay, gymnasiums, staffed libraries, and health care, all completely unheard of at the time, while still writing to further the plight of the Suffragette movement.
Nellie may have died age 58 of pneumonia, but HBICs live on forever.
I’m so pissed right now because I NEVER, EVER found her in a single of the history and literature books I studied on. Fuck that shit, this woman needs a whole entire chapter in every single book in print
I’ve been infatuated with Nellie since the Pittsburgh CLO came to my elementary school and did a one-woman musical performance about her.
WHERE IS THIS WOMAN’S MOVIE?
ACTUALLY MY STEP DAD WAS TRYING TO MAKE ONE FOR YEARS BUT IT WAS PUT ON HOLD DUE TO LACK OF FUNDING
interactive installation “Measuring the Universe” by Roman Ondak in which visitors mark their height in black ink on a white wall, representing a star in a network of celestial bodies to symbolize the space each individual takes up in our vast universe.