Alert reader Elke points us to the Secret History of the Garden Gnome. I had no idea that gnomes had such a seedy side to them:
[…] But the common garden gnome has fallen on hard times in recent years, his reputation tarnished by campaigns led by mean-spirited elitist intellectuals and even perverts. To intellectuals and other touchy types, he's despised as the embodiment of kitsch and petit-bourgeois parochialism. Some outsiders have even sought to savage the image of the gnome by plunging him into a world of decadence, violence, and sex. There are pornographic gnomes, one-eared Van Gogh gnomes and "Scream" versions à la Edvard Munch. […]
Bonus gnome news:
Maybe they just needed some time to commune with nature.
Twelve garden gnomes kidnapped in western Sweden a month ago have been found in a snowy forest, standing in a ring beside a lighted bonfire and a small hut, Swedish news agency TT reported."It looked very cozy," Bo Larsson, a police officer in the town of Kil, near Karlstad, told TT on Friday.
The gnomes mysteriously vanished from their gardens just before Christmas. […]
p.s. This is the 500th post for the new (foamtotem era) popplers.
She's got good aim, you have to admit.
UPDATE: CNN offers this questionably worded headline: Woman beats off burglar with gnome. (The sad part is that I'm sure that someone's into that.)
I dare you to parse this: Underwater gnome threat 'returns'. (And what's with the single quote emphasis around the word 'returns'?)
Best quote: "Pc Kenny McMahon, a member of the North West Police Underwater Search Unit, said the gnomes were well known among the diving community."
E.T., Gnome Home: Thieves have stolen scantily clad garden gnomes from a gnome peepshow in an eastern German amusement park. Alas, no pix that I can find!
So, our friends gave us a gnome for New Year's. Not your garden-variety garden gnome, but an electric stick-the-light-bulb-up-his-bum genyoowine glow-in-the-dark 110V A/C gnome. His name is Norm. When we returned from our travels, we filled his hollow plastic base with pennies (to keep him from blowing over), sat him down on the front steps, and plugged him in. He's on a timer, so he happily lights up around dusk and turns himself off in the wee hours of the morning.
We realized that we'd never brought in today's mail, so Chris went outside to get it. A few moments later, he came back in and asked if I'd moved the gnome. I said that I hadn't, and asked him if it had gotten knocked over. He said, "No, it's more interesting than that." I put on my shoes and stepped outside to take a look.
Norm had reached the end of his tether (the extension cord) and was standing on the front lawn, gazing wistfully at the coach light. Maybe it's just those damn commercials, but I have to wonder if he's contemplating a better life elsewhere. Maybe he's tired of standing on the steps, and feels a deep need to have his boots touch the soil. There are those who advocate an end to oppressive gardening and those who claim that garden gnomes are happy where they are. While I want to encourage him to spread his wings, I do worry-- he could meet a terrible end. It's February in New England. Maybe Norm just needs a vacation.