MISTER MYSTERY RESPONDS

If we knew what we were in previous lives, that knowledge could interfere with our current life. There is a paradigmatic case recorded by Dr. Ian Masterson in his famous study on probable reincarnation cases. William Monroe III was walking through Central Park one day when he had the clear perception that he had trodden that land before it was sold to the Dutch colonists for a ridiculous sum. William Monroe III (who had no clear idea about what he was in his current life, although William Monroe II believed him to be a gastropod), from then on became convinced that in a previous life he had been a Native American. Furthermore, he was sure that he had participated directly in the purchase sell of those lands. Then, he went up on top of the Empire State Building and, looking around, he realized that such deal had been a total scam. Manhattan was worth about twice what the Dutch paid for it (US$24 and a pair of Dutch clogs). According to his calculations, the Chrysler Building alone was w...

If the source is ‘The Forward' they are reliable. If the source is ‘Myths and legends’ they are not only unreliable but anyone who goes in search of such treasures deserves to be turned into a frog by an evil sorceress. In any case, since you are asking for my expert opinion, I will tell you that it’s unlikely that there are still undiscovered treasures. Too many holes have been dug for a treasure to be overlooked -if by treasure we mean something worth more than twenty dollars (personally, I refuse to exhaust myself digging a hole for less than twenty dollars, and that’s my last word on the subject). As for the giants, I think six heads are too many heads. Five-headed giants might exist, but certainly not in Brooklyn. I once met a drunkard in a harbor side tavern who assured me he had run into a multiple-headed giant in Istanbul. However, the giant was not guarding a treasure but a faulty shipment of vodka destined for destruction due to its excessive alcohol content. According to...

Let's admit some criticism of Squattedman. That his flight is not a paragon of elegance like that of eagles or seagulls? That he goes naked and that circumstance is not very decorous? That his propulsion mode is unsatisfactory? That this kind of thing discourages New Yorkers from boasting of a superhero? That when he catches thieves he often keeps the loot to deliver it to the poor? That he is not the most graceful man in the world, nor is he the most cultured or the most intelligent? Why deny it? ... Any other objection? No? That is to say there are no criticisms as to its effectiveness in combating crime? Well ladies and gentlemen, what more do you want?! Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth! And speaking of efficiency, I'm going to tell you one of Squattedman’s greatest feats. Nothing less than the salvage of the Brooklyn Bridge. In 1910, Vaudeville Houses abounded in New York City. For a reasonable price you could attend an entertaining and varied show consisting of twelve...

Squattedman is watching over the city from the sky when he sees before him a little light that advances towards him very slowly but getting increasingly larger. Suddenly, the light dashes and stands up under his very nose. There, high above New York City, Squattedman faces a huge metal object in the form of a cigar. The cigar seems to be lit because from its end sprouts a weird violet smoke. However, at the other end there is no one puffing on. (Thank God because if there were someone, it should be twice the size of the Statue of Liberty.) In 1910 there was still no talk of flying saucers or possible alien life on other planets in the Universe. In fact, a high percentage of New Yorkers were still convinced that the Earth was flat. At least they were in no doubt about this in the case of New York. (For other cities they would not risk their necks.) And stars were just for decoration, like candles on a Christmas tree. If you had told them that our sun was just another star, they would h...

Being a superhero is not a plum job as many people think. Particularly in the case of Squattedman, who not only isn't a vocational superhero (not even a vocational plain hero), but his super powers only manifest when he squats, which make it extremely awkward to carry any garment on. So he is forced to go naked when he practices as superhero. And a naked superhero is an embarrassed superhero. Because, let's be frank, nakedness is not a socially acceptable way of showing up in public. In fact, in the time of Squattedman (early 20th century), it was not even an acceptable way of showing up in private. A guy dressed as a cockroach or a worm was more tolerable than someone in his birthday suit. That is why Squattedman causes so much controversy in New York society. The League of Decency, for example, organizes daily demonstrations of rejection at the entrance to the apartment building where Squattedman lives. Fortunately, he uses to go out the window and tries to show himself as l...

No, Squattedman did not die in the tremendous explosion in Edison's warehouse. He didn't even suffer the least scratch. Of course, he took a fright. A hell of a fright. But now it's all over. Tammany Hall has been broken up. I am not saying that there are no longer corrupt politicians or street gangs. But now they all run around like headless chickens. From now on, the task of Squattedman would be the ordinary task of any superhero: rescue people in distress, prevent a robbery or a murder, safeguard the peace and order of the planet, stop the indiscriminate cutting down of trees and poaching, prevent the derailment of a train or the sinking of a ship, or warn a confident buyer that the second-hand car they are selling to him is actually a lot of junk assembled to give the appearance of a Ford T... He got back pain just thinking about it. But it was his duty, and if a man should not escape his duty, even less a super-man! Compliance with the duty was the most important prin...

Squattedman doesn't even have to knock at the door of the warehouse located in an unpopulated area on the outskirts of the Bronx. The door is wide open. Above there is a sign that reads "Edison Illuminating Company." Apart from the man with a lightbulb head and five or six more people, the gigantic warehouse is deserted and the many machines turned off. From the threshold, Squattedman watches with stupor the Bulb Man who is pacing up and down in a highly agitated state. He is talking alone: “That Tesla skunk! I will electrocute him again and again until there is nothing left of him but ashes! ”  When he recovers from the initial startled, Squattedman says aloud: "Excuse me!” The Bulb Man quickly turns around: "Who are you?" ”I'm looking for Mr. Thomas Edison." "What do you want from him?" "I just want to ask him a few questions.” "Related to the war of currents?" "Is there a war in Currents? I am not aware. I...

The next step of the stairs that would eventually lead Squattedman to the cusp of Tammany Hall was made of Carrara marble. The name contributed by Boss Tweed was that of the congressman Art Cartridge. This man was somewhat peculiar because he used to attend Congress sessions in pajamas and with a nightcap. In fact, the speaker was forced to call his attention continuously because he not only snored loudly but every now and then he sleepwalk through the House of Representatives. He had his residence in New York, where he was a night watchman in a liquor store, but he used to go to Washington every day to sleep in the Capitol Building. As if this present was not enough weird, it was rumored that he had a very dark past. Something related to a giant ball of manure that he rolled by pushing it with the force of his arms through Texas with a dark purpose. Hence his nickname “Roller Dung Beetle”. In his character of François de La Rochefoucauld, Squattedman set up an appointment with Mr. Ca...

Paul Kelly, leader of the Five Points gang, had given Squattedman the name of the person who occupied the next link in the hierarchy of Tammany Hall. And it was a name that Squattedman knew well for having paid him a courtesy visit as soon as he first stepped on the streets of New York. It was Boss Tweed. So he decided to pay him another visit. Tweed was having breakfast in his office when a large bird landed on the windowsill. But when he looked at it carefully, he realized that it was not a species unknown to him. Quickly he drew his revolver and emptied the cylinder on the intruder. Then he rediscovered that the bullets bounced off his naked body and he became demoralized. This feeling of unease, of futility, is normal in gangsters who go through such an experience, as psychoanalysts well know. Much of the gangster's power lies in the use of violence, and when he discovers that violence is useless, it is normal for him to fall into a deep despond. This discouragement should ...

Meanwhile, the mayoral elections had taken place and for the umpteenth time they were won by the Tammany Hall candidate, a certain Morgan S. Fitzpatrick, of whom an investigative journalist discovered that he had been dead and buried for ten years. (Interestingly enough, shortly after publishing the news, it didn't take long for the journalist to be dead as a result of a hunting accident happened in his very apartment in Manhattan.) In Five Points and other adjacent neighborhoods, the victory of the late mayor had been overwhelming: 120% of the voters gave him their confidence. Naturally, all this raised the suspicions of Squattedman, who decided to change strategy. Instead of dismantling the corrupt organization from the cusp, he would start from the bottom and go up as if by a ladder. So he started to frequent Five Points. The first day he was assaulted by the members of a new band, heiress of the Dead Rabbits. The name of this newly created band was not as original as that of i...

The same weird circumstance that had granted him super powers (see “Episodes of the Belle Epoque”) had deprived Squattedman of some petty powers that we ordinary mortals possess, such as picking one's nose, saying the word "porcupine" without having a nervous breakdown, jumping rope or singing “Here we go round the Mulberry Bush”. Other gaps in his capacity included being no longer good at remembering faces, as evidenced by the fact that he found it difficult to recognize himself in mirrors. Therefore, the first thing he did as soon as he arrived at his apartment from the Metropolitan Opera House was to take a charcoal and a paper and start drawing an identikit portrait of the man he had identified as "Cow Head". He knew that, over the course of the days, the memory of that face would end up erasing from his head and only the fundamental features would remain: the eyes on both sides, the nose in the middle of the face and boiled spinach scattered on the hair. He...

Over time, Squattedman had won the trust of a distinguished family from Princeton, the Alexanders. He would accompany them to all the parties that The Four Hundred attended. But it was difficult to discover his man among so many people. He soon found that the ideal place from which to carefully observe the members of the New York high society was a box at the Metropolitan Opera House. If you belonged to that privileged social circle known as The Four Hundred, the day to go to the Opera was Monday. It had been established so by Mrs. Astor because Monday was strategically located between Sunday and Tuesday, which could not be said for the rest of the days of the week. As Mrs. Astor used to say, Monday was a "sandwich-like day". The other days were independent, not related to each other. Instead, Sunday, Monday and Tuesday worked as a team. They were like a close-knit family. (The logic of this reasoning was something that transcended the intelligence of ordinary mortals.) The ...

There is a song that says: "Sweet, sweet tomato, I feel the same for the potato." I really don't know what I mean by this. I simply prepared to narrate a new episode of the adventures of Squattedman and I got it into my head. (I'll write it down for my psychiatrist.) Actually I should have started this episode by saying that the New York mayor elections were just around the corner. Tammany Hall’s henchmen did not stop visiting immigrant neighborhoods trying to convince those poor people that voting for the Tammany Hall candidate was the best for Tammany Hall’s interests. Those who were reluctant were beaten to reconsider their position. In the event that their position was immovable, drastic measures were taken so that the voters in question were equally unable to move to the polling station on election day. A festive atmosphere reigned in the streets and Tammany Hall was present everywhere. If a ten-pin bowling championship was held, there were ten members of Tammany...

Squattedman could not get the image of the winged dwarf armed with bow and arrows out of his head. At first he thought it might be a hallucination. But when he looked at the corpse that was still sitting in the chair with the arrow going through his chest, he understood that it was real or very close to reality. He still hadn't had time to get rid of the corpse. The truth is that he had been expressly postponing that unpleasant process. He did not like to get rid of corpses. It was an activity he had always despised since he would go to school and the teacher of Philosophy (a Jesuit over a hundred years old) died while giving him a private lesson. He was afraid that the rumor would spread that teachers died mysteriously while giving him private lessons. (Last year the same thing had already happened to him with the teacher of Mathematics, and the previous year with that of Natural Sciences.) He was afraid of being accused of serial killer. No teacher would lend him a private lesson...

After their vacation in Cleveland, the Dead Rabbits returned to their city with renewed vigor. Now they were planning an attack on New York University as revenge for having vetoed the entrance to his leader. The examining board alleged that Bobblehead was unable to account for the result of the mathematical operation 0 + 0 = 0. (He thought it was a trick question and claimed that the result was 4,731.) The plan was to paint the Washington Square Arch, symbol of the University, of vermilion. For that purpose they bought broad brushes and several giant cans of paint. Loaded with that equipment and with three long stairs, a moonless night they sneaked up to the Washington Square campus and began to paint the Arch thoroughly. Due to the reining darkness, they did not realize that Squattedman had replaced the vermilion paint with white paint. They worked tirelessly all night and before dawn they had finished the work. A few days later, an envelope with the NYU logo was received at the gang...

In Squattedman’s apartment, the fop is sitting in a chair while our hero, in street clothes, paces up and down in the room. “Who is that dwarf you talked about on the ship? And why are you all so interested in finding him? ” “The dwarf is the key to the whole thing. Actually without him there would be no thing at all, because he knows all the branches of the tree. In fact, he is the root. Or, as Plato would say, the originating cause of the effect caused. There is a Hindu parable that exemplifies it perfectly. Two men go in a boat. Suddenly one of them throws himself into the water for no apparent reason, but the other immediately understands that the time has come to take the sacred pin and darn his pants. Well, the man who throws himself into the water is the dwarf. Without him, the other would never have thought of darning his pants, even though they have a hole the size of the city of Bombay. ” "Shut up! I withdraw the question!” Squattedman roams the room thoughtfully. Su...

Fighting crime requires a dedication that does not know about schedules or holidays. That is why this Sunday night, Squattedman is on the prowl of some sailors whose vessel is docked in the port. That afternoon, from the window of his apartment he had seen strange movements around this vessel named "Spetaniclose": Instead of loading or unloading the ship's merchandise with due care, from the prow deck the crew was throwing onto the wharf large Chinese porcelain vases that naturally got shattered. Something did not fit in. That is why Squattedman went to the wharf at dusk and now, hidden among some wood containers, spies on the Spetaniclose that swings tied to the wharf. The lights of Brooklyn are visible on the other side of the East River. Scattered all around the wharf in front of the ship, innumerable fragments of Chinese porcelain bear witness to the savagely landing of its cargo. Walking in a squatting position and on tiptoe to make no noise when stepping on any of ...

The first thing Squattedman wondered is where to start? The second, where to continue? And finally: where to end? The order of these three phases was important. If he started at the end, he could continue to end at the beginning and not only would he not have figured out anything, but he might not even be able to remember where he had put the key to his apartment. Squattedman had rented a small apartment on the top floor of the tallest building in New York, from where he could watch with his eagle's eye the course of citizen life, ready to act if he noticed any anomaly. But now he should focus on breaking up that corrupt politicians’ organization called Tammany Hall. He was especially concerned about the identity of the man with a cow mask. He immediately ruled out that he was a cow dressed in men's clothing specially tailored for him. Because, although sometimes clothes do make the man, he had had occasion to milk him and not a drop came out of the udder. Fortunately, that g...

Although Squattedman has embarked on a crusade against political corruption embodied in Tammany Hall and the man in the cow mask, common crime does not rest. Squattedman is there to face it. So he sticks the ear to the ground and intercepts a warning to the police: in Hell’s Kitchen, the gang of the Gophers just stole the pavement from the streets. Quickly, he takes his clothes off and, through the usual procedure, he shoots off towards that dangerous area of the city. There, a crowd receives him with hostility and the rest of the neighborhood with violence: a shower of rubble falls on him from the windows. By midmorning, a mountain of rubble covers him completely, and in the afternoon the mountain has already become Mount Everest. When, according to his calculations, all stolen pavement accumulates on him, Squattedman emerges from the bottom of the rubble mountain and, before it gets dark, he has paved the streets again and he has still enough rubble left to pave the nose-bridge of ea...

Next to Boss Tweed, in his Tammany Hall office, there is a bricks of cash's stack which the Boss is storing inside his large safe. Suddenly, something covers the light coming from the window. He turns to look and discovers a squatting man perched on the windowsill. Quickly he takes hold of his revolver and shoots at the intruder. But, as the bullets bounce off the intruder's naked body, Boss Tweed proceeds to slam the safe’s vault door. Doing his waddle reminiscent of a dizzy duck gait (Squat and try to walk! Go on, wise guy, try!), Squattedman aproaches Boss Tweed who, inexplicably, begins to dance the rumba. "What-What-What do you want? I warn you that I have no money.” Squattedman looks at the bricks of cash that still remain stacked on the ground and Boss Tweed hastens to clarify: “I mean rubles. I don't have rubles, if that's what you're looking for.” "And what is this?" Squattedman asks pointing to the bricks of cash. “That’s American dolla...