Swashbuckling
Ok, I'm sufficiently reassured that "swashbuckling" is a relatively widely-understood term. In case you don't know, it's a good way to describe the fighting style utilized by pirates and their ilk.
Ok, pirate poetry as recommended to me by Mary:
The Pirate Don Durk of Dowdee
by Mildred Plew Meigs
Ho, for the Pirate Don Durk of Dowdee!
He was as wicked as wicked could be,
But oh, he was perfectly gorgeous to see!
The Pirate Don Durk of Dowdee.
His conscience, of course, was as black as a bat,
But he had a floppety plume on his hat
And when he went walking it jiggled - like that!
The plume of the Pirate Dowdee.
His coat it was handsome and cut with a slash,
And often as ever he twirled his mustache
Deep down in the ocean the mermaids went splash,
Because of Don Durk of Dowdee.
Moreover, Dowdee had a purple tattoo,
And struck in his belt where he buckled it through
Were a dagger, a dirk, and a squizzamaroo,
For fierce was the Pirate Dowdee.
So feaful he was he would shoot at a puff,
And always at sea when the weather grew rough
He drank from a bottle and wrote on his cuff,
Did Pirate Don Durk of Dowdee.
Oh, he had a cutlass that swung at his thigh
And he had a parrot called Pepperkin Pye,
And a zigzaggy scar at the end of his eye
Had Pirate Don Durk of Dowdee.
He kept in a cavern, this buccaneer bold,
A curious chest that was covered with mould,
And all of his pockets were jingly with gold!
Oh jing! went the gold of Dowdee.
His consience, of course it was crook'd like a squash,
But both of his boots made a slickery slosh,
And he went throught the world with a wonderful swash,
Did Pirate Don Durk of Dowdee.
It's true he was wicked as wicked could be,
His sins they outnumbered a hundred and three,
But oh, he was perfectly gorgeous to see,
The Pirate Don Durk of Dowdee.
Ok, that's enough of that. Today the kids at school organized a costume theme day about what you want to be when you grow up, preferably a silly career, although it had to be a paying job.
me: And what are you?
Hannah: I'm an ACTRESS! She flings her fuzzy scarf more securely around her neck, and in the process smacks Michael in the face with it as he tries to pass.
me: And what are you, Roger?
Roger: A weather man, of course. My equipment is over there. (Roger is our meteorologist. Every Monday for current events, he updates up on the major storms and natural disasters of the past week).
me: Emily?
Emily: I'm a professional mourner!
me: Ah...
me: So, Aimee, what are you?
Aimee: I'm an evil dictator! See my pins?
Aimee's pins: Hug me, I'm an evil dictator!, Don't be stupid, be a smarty, come and join the Nazi party! (she says this is from The Producers), and Vote for me! I'll be evil! I know there was another one, but I can't remember it.
me: So, Josh, it looks like you run a restaurant. What's your speciality?
Josh: I'm-a the chef in-na Italian-a rest-a-raunta. We make-a spaghetti!
Oh my goodness! My brother's answer is wonderful:
Obligatory-cuz-'s-my-major-answer:
"Swashbuckle" is a back-formation from the noun "swashbuckler", but it seems like people'd have come up with the verb form first. Then again, most words probably started out as nouns waaaay back in the day. Anyway! a swashbuckle is someone who very literally swashes* - strikes - something against his buckler** - shield. The implication is that the fighter is loud and a braggadocio, striking either his own shield or his opponent's with his sword.
Straight-up answer:
Swashbuckling is great! I swashbuckle around the campus daily. I think it's something that implies fighting, with abandon. And lots of noise. A jostling, posturing sort of thing. And you need a really great hat to really swashbuckle. And hopefully something that resembles a sword.
* (onomatopoeic word -- strikes or dashes)
** (shield - from Latin word buccula, "cheek", which also referred to the part of the helmet that protected the face)
ps - and I wish that swashbuckling was my major - a B.A. in Swashbuckling. But I meant Literature when i said "cuz-'s-my-major."
Ok, pirate poetry as recommended to me by Mary:
The Pirate Don Durk of Dowdee
by Mildred Plew Meigs
Ho, for the Pirate Don Durk of Dowdee!
He was as wicked as wicked could be,
But oh, he was perfectly gorgeous to see!
The Pirate Don Durk of Dowdee.
His conscience, of course, was as black as a bat,
But he had a floppety plume on his hat
And when he went walking it jiggled - like that!
The plume of the Pirate Dowdee.
His coat it was handsome and cut with a slash,
And often as ever he twirled his mustache
Deep down in the ocean the mermaids went splash,
Because of Don Durk of Dowdee.
Moreover, Dowdee had a purple tattoo,
And struck in his belt where he buckled it through
Were a dagger, a dirk, and a squizzamaroo,
For fierce was the Pirate Dowdee.
So feaful he was he would shoot at a puff,
And always at sea when the weather grew rough
He drank from a bottle and wrote on his cuff,
Did Pirate Don Durk of Dowdee.
Oh, he had a cutlass that swung at his thigh
And he had a parrot called Pepperkin Pye,
And a zigzaggy scar at the end of his eye
Had Pirate Don Durk of Dowdee.
He kept in a cavern, this buccaneer bold,
A curious chest that was covered with mould,
And all of his pockets were jingly with gold!
Oh jing! went the gold of Dowdee.
His consience, of course it was crook'd like a squash,
But both of his boots made a slickery slosh,
And he went throught the world with a wonderful swash,
Did Pirate Don Durk of Dowdee.
It's true he was wicked as wicked could be,
His sins they outnumbered a hundred and three,
But oh, he was perfectly gorgeous to see,
The Pirate Don Durk of Dowdee.
Ok, that's enough of that. Today the kids at school organized a costume theme day about what you want to be when you grow up, preferably a silly career, although it had to be a paying job.
me: And what are you?
Hannah: I'm an ACTRESS! She flings her fuzzy scarf more securely around her neck, and in the process smacks Michael in the face with it as he tries to pass.
me: And what are you, Roger?
Roger: A weather man, of course. My equipment is over there. (Roger is our meteorologist. Every Monday for current events, he updates up on the major storms and natural disasters of the past week).
me: Emily?
Emily: I'm a professional mourner!
me: Ah...
me: So, Aimee, what are you?
Aimee: I'm an evil dictator! See my pins?
Aimee's pins: Hug me, I'm an evil dictator!, Don't be stupid, be a smarty, come and join the Nazi party! (she says this is from The Producers), and Vote for me! I'll be evil! I know there was another one, but I can't remember it.
me: So, Josh, it looks like you run a restaurant. What's your speciality?
Josh: I'm-a the chef in-na Italian-a rest-a-raunta. We make-a spaghetti!
Oh my goodness! My brother's answer is wonderful:
Obligatory-cuz-'s-my-major-answer:
"Swashbuckle" is a back-formation from the noun "swashbuckler", but it seems like people'd have come up with the verb form first. Then again, most words probably started out as nouns waaaay back in the day. Anyway! a swashbuckle is someone who very literally swashes* - strikes - something against his buckler** - shield. The implication is that the fighter is loud and a braggadocio, striking either his own shield or his opponent's with his sword.
Straight-up answer:
Swashbuckling is great! I swashbuckle around the campus daily. I think it's something that implies fighting, with abandon. And lots of noise. A jostling, posturing sort of thing. And you need a really great hat to really swashbuckle. And hopefully something that resembles a sword.
* (onomatopoeic word -- strikes or dashes)
** (shield - from Latin word buccula, "cheek", which also referred to the part of the helmet that protected the face)
ps - and I wish that swashbuckling was my major - a B.A. in Swashbuckling. But I meant Literature when i said "cuz-'s-my-major."