ALAN ABEL is DEAD ....................isn't he?

Above, the exotic "Omar the Beggar," explaining to Mike Douglas the art of begging, and his supposed "School for Beggars." He was, of course, the hoaxer Alan Abel, who successfully got The New York Times to run an obituary on him nearly 40 years ago. You see him in a more recent pose, when he was promoting a documentary on himself, "Abel Raises Cain" (now on DVD and available from his website).

According to Stoidi Puekaw, Alan passed his birthday and passed away: August 2, 1924 – September 14, 2018.

You might not believe Stoidi Puekaw, whose name is backwards for "Wake Up Idiots," but it IS unlikely Alan Abel will be waking up. This time.

As hacky as it is to declare "Alan Abel is Dead...isn't he?" it reflects Alan's sense of humor, which was pretty obvious. The joke was how so often his very obvious put-ons were taken seriously. This was especially true in the more naive late 50's and 60's.

At a time when the cunning Allen Funt was exposing the stupidity and gullibility of the average jerk (er, people "caught in the act of being themselves"), Alan Abel had the ability to get respectable reporter, newsmen and TV hosts to go along with his publicity ploys.

The dim general public first got fooled in 1959, when Abel created SINA, the "Society for Indecency to Naked Animals." There was a record album about this, and eventually Buck Henry acted as the group's spokesman for interviews. Ultimately, people got the idea that, for a change, the nut who headed up an uptight organization was just playing pretend. Ha ha.

Like any lone wolf entrepeneur, Abel used his wits whenever and wherever he could. He put out a drum solo album called "Professor Paradiddle - Drums, Drollery, And Drivel." He used his notoriety to get backing for the 1971 film "Is There Sex After Death?" one of the first "mockumentaries." Well before Sacha Baron Cohen played games with dopey-looking disguises, Alan impersonated "Omar the Beggar," outrageously extolling the art of begging. He did this on a variety of talk shows, and kept turning up again and again, sort of like the eccentric "new discovery" who makes the rounds of "America's Got Talent" and "Britain's Got Talent" and "Gong Show" and all the rest, swallowing lightbulbs and goldfish, or doing yoga positions while singing opera and eating cake.

Always eager to sell his next book or film project, Abel found ways to generate publicity with hoaxes that put himself in the spotlight. Twenty years after SINA, in 1979, he humiliated The New York Times by tricking them into publishing his obituary.

This gave him the chance to pompously quote Mark Twain: "reports of my demise have been grossly exaggerated." Not funny, but as his Stoido Puekaw identity proved, his game was not always to get laughs but to shout "WAKE UP IDIOTS" at the world.

Among his other stunts: pretending to offer "Euthanasia Cruises," managing to get some members of the Phil Donahue Show audience to "faint" at the same time on live TV, and, of course, running for office offering a variety of bizarre promises if elected. Still feisty after all the years of put-ons, and despite competition from most every talk show host (and their man-in-the-street con artist pals), a variety of comedians, and freelance morons who were dead serious about being stupid, Alan Abel was still a champ in 2000. That was when he showed up at the Republican National Convention declaring opposition to breastfeeding on the grounds that it was incest.

As he got older, Alan concentrated on lectures and teaching creative workshops at The New School in New York. Organizations wanted to hear about his techniques for publicity and public relations and he had a variety of topics he could speak on. One self-help series was called "Using Your Wits to Win."

His self-promoting books include "The Great American Hoax" and "Confessions of a Hoaxer." A problem for Alan Abel, and the reason his death isn't big news, is that despite his costumes and appearing on talk shows now and then, and doing put-ons at conventions or making dunces out of TV news reporters, he wasn't exactly likable. He didn't have the larger than life personality of even a Henry Morgan. The lecture circuit and working out of an office was more his style. He wasn't the genial Steve Allen making fun of people on the street, and lacked the cult appeal of prankish David Letterman. He wasn't as comfortably conspiratorial as radio's late night misanthrope Jean Shepherd. Few are memorable as characters, the way his former SINA rep Buck Henry is.

Alan Abel, to judge from his anecdotal book "Don't Get Mad, Get Even," was a handful in daily life. He claimed a true story about the time he was "traveling by subway to a Forest Hills tennis game..." and noticed a pickpocket at work. His solution? "Casually I wandered into the next car...two couples were standing by the door...both fellows were beefy and wore football-numbered T-shirts....I put a finger to my lips and pointed to the action in the next car..."That guy is ripping off the passengers. And when he finishes, he said he's going to rape your lady friends." Those two chaps bolted into the car, took flying leaps at the thug, and pounded him to the floor...While frenzied scuffling and shouting continued, the train plled into my station. I got off and went on to enjoy some tennis."

Maybe, if recounted by Groucho Marx or W.C. Fields, that anecdote would be admirable, and maybe even funny. Coming from Abel, it comes off as just a tad cowardly. But then again, maybe the anecdote was a hoax, and never happened at all.

Perhaps some quotes from "Don't Get Mad, Get Even" explain the problem with the late, often great Alan Abel. His put-ons were often joyless and his underlying view could be misanthropic without the needed wit and wink of a Bierce or a Twain. Granted, few could rival Bierce or Twain, but here's Alan offering hints on "getting even" with annoying people (not ones who try to put you on, just annoying people in general): PUSHY PANHANDLER: "To avoid this annoying breed of leech...become ill instantly and ask to borrow his or her scarf, hat or handkerchief.

HOW TO AVOID TIPPING: "For the unattentive waiter or waitress, I suggest leaving a printed card on the table after eating as follows:

I DID NOT LEAVE A TIP BECAUSE

_____ You forgot the fingerbowl.

_____ The drinking glass was dirt.

_____ You were conspicuous by your absence.

_____ Your appearance is unappetizing.

_____ God will bless you for your service.

And here, in a catch-all chapter on how to deal with a variety of difficult people:

"A friend or relative you could live without sounds a rotten gift at Christmas or on your birthday

a. Gift wrap one glove and send it.

b. Mail a gift certificate from a store that has gone out of business.

c. Send one ticket to a Broadway show that closed opening night.

d. Re-wrap the gift reeived and send it to the donor as yours.

OK, not funny, but maybe a vicarious thrill in reading these notions? Same as the vicarious thrill of watching W.C. Fields boot Baby LeRoy in the rump? There are always too few curmudgeons in the world, and too many morons. And yes, today the morons have gained in number with the loss of Alan Abel.