On Aug 17, 1960, Betty Penrose's house in Phoenix was hit by lightning. Nine years later she sued God for damages — and won. Kinda. Sorta. Technically, what she won was the right to summon God to a trial which (assuming God would be a no-show) would have resulted in a default judgement against the deity.
Sydney Morning Herald - May 15, 1969
Some additional context is necessary to understand Penrose's case.
Over in Sebastapol, California, singer Lou Gottlieb had been fighting the county government's attempt to shut down the hippie commune he had started on his Morning Star Ranch. As a legal maneuver to avoid paying the county's fines, Gottlieb deeded his land to God. Then he declared that the county could try collecting the fines from God.
This caused Phoenix attorney Russell Tansie, who was Penrose's employer, to realize that if God now legally owned property (the Morning Star Ranch), then God could be sued for damages. And that's how Penrose's suit emerged.
Indianapolis Star - May 14, 1969
However, I don't think Penrose's case ever made it to trial because, back in California, a judge had ruled that God, being neither a "natural or artificial person," could not legally own Gottlieb's ranch. So Gottlieb was still the owner and had to pay the fines.
And if God didn't own the ranch, then Penrose's case became moot.
But if Penrose's case had proceeded, it was possible God wouldn't have been a no-show. San Quentin prisoner Paul Yerkes Bechtel claimed to be God. So he might have appeared in court. And Joseph Njue of Kenya had also offered to defend God.
May 1969: Responding to a suggestion in the North Dakota State University paper that students "Zip to Zap" to stage a "Zap-In" in Zap, North Dakota (population: 300), 3000 young people descended on the town. The Zap-In soon descended into chaos, prompting the mayor to summon the National Guard to remove the students.
According to wikipedia, the event was "the only official riot in the history of North Dakota that was put down by the National Guard."
foew&ombwhnw, by Dick Higgins, was published in 1969 by Something Else Press. The title was an acronym for "freaked-out electronic wizards & other marvellous bartenders who have no wings."
The design of the book was unusual. It was made to look like a prayer book, with black cover and thin pages. Inside, the text was divided into four columns. To read the book in order you had to first read all the left-hand columns, then all the second-to-left columns, etc.
The book itself was a collection of essays, plays, and poems. Or, as Higgins described it, "a grammar of the mind and a phenomenology of love and a science of the arts as seen by a stalker of the wild mushroom."
Copies of it generally go for over $100, for anyone interested in adding it to their collection of weird books.
So much easier than 1) pouring a glass of soda and 2) scooping some ice cream into it. Completely eliminates the dreaded element of decision-making (which ice cream, which soda?).
Miss Formula, who made her debut in 1964, was said to be "a computer's idea of how the perfect female should look." Though she was actually what the engineers at California Computer Products, Inc. thought the perfect female should look like. They designed her and the computer printed her out.
California Computer Products (CalComp) was eventually acquired by the Lockheed Corporation. I wonder if Miss Formula still resides somewhere in their computer systems.
Paul Di Filippo
Paul has been paid to put weird ideas into fictional form for over thirty years, in his career as a noted science fiction writer. He has recently begun blogging on many curious topics with three fellow writers at The Inferior 4+1.