Fingernails Were Invented in 3000 bc in China
"caesura \sih-ZYUR-uh\ noun
1 : a break in the flow of sound usually in the middle of a line of verse
*2 : break, interruption
3 : a pause marking a rhythmic point of division in a melody
Example sentence:
"Without so much as the caesura of a drawn breath I was first shouting in joy, then screaming in shock." (E.L. Doctorow, World's Fair)
Did you know?
Caesuras (or caesurae) are those slight pauses one makes as one reads verse. While it may seem that their most obvious role is to emphasize the metrical construction of the verse, more often we need these little stops (which may be, but are not necessarily, set off by punctuation) to introduce the cadence and phrasing of natural speech into the metrical scheme. The word "caesura," borrowed from Late Latin, is ultimately from Latin "caedere" meaning "to cut." Nearly as old as the 450-year-old poetry senses is the general meaning "a break or interruption."
disparate \DISS-puh-rut\ adjective
1 : containing or made up of fundamentally different and often incongruous elements
*2 : markedly distinct in quality or character
Example sentence:
James often complained about the disparate expectations for himself and his younger sister, who was required to do far fewer chores than he was.
Did you know?
Have you ever tried to sort differing objects into separate categories? If so, you're well prepared to understand the origins of "disparate." The word, which first appeared in English in the 15th century, derives from "disparatus," the past participle of the Latin verb "disparare," meaning "to separate." "Disparare," in turn, comes from "parare," a verb meaning "to prepare." Other descendants of "parare" in English include both "separate" and "prepare," as well as "repair," "apparatus," and even "vituperate" ("to berate or scold severely"). Incidentally, "disparate" can also be a noun meaning "one of two or more things so unequal or unlike that they cannot be compared with each other" (it's usually used in the plural).
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
paparazzo \pah-puh-RAHT-soh\ noun
: a freelance photographer who aggressively pursues celebrities for the purpose of taking candid photographs
Example sentence:
As a child star she had been constantly pursued by paparazzi, but only a single photographer showed up at her 21st-birthday bash.
Did you know?
We can thank Italian for "paparazzo" and its plural "paparazzi." On the immediate origin of "paparazzo," there is complete agreement - it was the surname of one of four aggressive photographers in Federico Fellini's 1959 film La dolce vita. Opinions divide, however, on where Fellini got the word. According to Fellini himself, the name was taken from an opera libretto. But "Paparazzo" was also the name of a hotelkeeper in George Gissing's 1901 travel memoir By the Ionian Sea. Some folks have also noted that in the dialect of Ennio Flaiano, who co-wrote the script of La dolce vita with Fellini, "paparazzo" refers to a kind of clam that snaps its shell open and shut frequently. This supposedly reminded Flaiano of the action of a camera shutter.
esoteric \es-uh-TAIR-ik\ adjective
*1 : designed for or understood by a small number of people; broadly: difficult to understand
2 : private, confidential
Example sentence:
Computer programming was once an esoteric subject, but beginner courses and how-to books have made it easier to grasp.
Did you know?
The opposite of "esoteric" is "exoteric," which means "suitable to be imparted to the public." According to one account, those who were deemed worthy to attend Aristotle's learned discussions were known as his "esoterics," his confidants, while those who merely attended his popular evening lectures were called his "exoterics." Since material that is geared toward a target audience is often not as easily comprehensible to outside observers, "esoteric" acquired an extended meaning of "difficult to understand." Both "esoteric" and "exoteric" started appearing in English in the mid-1600s; "esoteric" traces back to ancient Greece by way of the Late Latin "esotericus"; the Greek "esōterikos" comes from the comparative form of "eisō," which means "within."
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
To be annoyed in English, press “1”. To be ignored in Spanish, press “ocho”.
We live out beyond where the newspapers are delivered, in the land of septic tanks. There is no cable television as yet, although we've heard rumors. It is said the rescue expedition sent by Comcast has narrowed its search to within a thousand acres, more or less, of our road.
Until then, the modern country couch man must survive.
In a world without cable, the modern country couch man is faced with three options. The first is that of choosing to have no television whatsoever. The only people who have achieved this lofty goal are six hippies from the 60's (now in their 60's) who entertain one another by sitting on a porch and singing folk songs.
And who really wants that?
Modern country couch man choice number two for those without cable access is the antenna. You may remember the antenna from old black and white movies where the action happened on the rooftops of tenements somewhere near the docks. Antennas will allow you to watch the four major networks, along with, perhaps, the PBS station and a pirate signal broadcast from an odd man's garage somewhere near Wheeling. While his snow-laden bellowing about how the “ape race is ruining America” may provide minutes of sideshow interest, it's not exactly entertainment. For that, you must turn to country couch man option number three, the satellite dish.
Give them a call. They'll find your house, no matter how far from civilization, slap a pizza-sized aluminum receiver on the tin roof of your barn, aim it at the satellites and bless you with every program ever shown and then repeated via the West coast feed.
Until one day, when out of the blue, it breaks.
I spent an hour Wednesday night on the phone listening to someone in East Punjab leaf through what I imagined to be a copy of “Satellite Dishes for Dummies”. Crouched in front of my receiver, my remote in hand, I followed instructions given by the sullen, bored and accented toll-free technician. She was no help but I was happy to be speaking with any human being after having been forced through the maze of telephone key pad commands that now crack the whip on we poor, unsuspecting customer-dogs. “If you're having trouble with reception, press one. If you'd like to order pay-per-view programming, press two. If you would like to speak to a technician, press three. If you're a crazed man from somewhere near Wheeling who is broadcasting on a pirated signal, spouting racist diatribe, press K-K-K.”
After twenty minutes of being commanded to fiddle with buttons by a woman from who-knows-where, it was decided that a technician was, indeed, needed. If they packed the mules and headed out at first light, I was told, they could be at our house by Sunday between noon and five. All it would cost me was forty-nine dollars. I was asked if I'd like that to go right onto my bill. “Why, sure!” I happily agreed. “I don't own this equipment. It's yours. In fact, if I don't return it, you'll charge me for it. But now that your faulty equipment has broken, I'd be thrilled to pay fifty bucks to have one of your outstanding employees fix it. Why didn't you ask sooner?”
During this entire “do-it-yourself-home-satellite-dish-repair” phone seminar, I heard sporadic yelling from upstairs. As the technician asked me to switch from “menu” to “program” to “you're screwed”, someone on our second floor was screaming about “Asians”.
Strangely enough, the very same day the dish flew south, the telephone reception at our house grew a new healthy crop of static. My wife was upstairs talking to the phone company on her cell phone as I was downstairs with the dish people on the static line. Each of us spent an hour of our lives on telephones, pushing appropriate buttons, getting no place slowly. Later, after we compared notes, I learned the phone company is in fact far worse than the dish people when it comes to automation. They not only want you to push the appropriate button, but also would like you to sit up and bark for your supper. If you grow frustrated enough with the non-response from the phone company's machines and wish to speak to a real human being, the computer actually commands you to say the word “Agent” into your phone.
It wasn't “Asian” after all.
It was “Agent”.
And so, while the dish woman asked me to use my remote to “adjust my signal strength”, I heard, from somewhere above, my wife yelling, “Agent!” And as the dish woman informed me that I'd be paying the dish company to repair the faulty equipment that I do not own, I heard my wife repeat, “Agent! Agent! Agent!” from above. And as the dish woman tried to extort six bucks worth of protection money from me, I was interrupted in answering by a crazed woman on the second floor, screaming “AGENT! AGENT! AGENT! AGENT! AGENT! AGENT AGENT AGENT!!!!” And then I heard the sound of a window sliding open and a cell phone being hurled into a cornfield.
So as we sat on our porch Sunday between noon and five waiting for the dish repair man, singing a couple of verses of “Michael Rowed the Boat Ashore”, we thanked our lucky stars we live out beyond where they deliver newspapers, in the land of septic tanks. It's place where you cannot get cable TV, but the good news is that you can yell the word “Agent” as loudly and often as you like and no one will say a thing.
The bad news is the groundhogs now have a cell phone.
bricolage \bree-koh-LAHZH\ noun
: construction achieved by using whatever comes to hand; also : something constructed in this way
Example sentence:
Knowing that the motor was assembled from a hasty bricolage of junk parts, Raphael had little hope that it would run effectively.
Did you know?
According to French social anthropologist Claude Levi-Strauss, the artist "shapes the beautiful and useful out of the dump heap of human life." Levi-Strauss compared this artistic process to the work of a handyman who solves technical or mechanical problems with whatever materials are available. He referred to that process of making do as "bricolage," a term derived from the French verb "bricoler" (meaning "to putter about") and related to "bricoleur," the French name for a jack-of-all-trades. "Bricolage" made its way from French to English in 1966, when Levi-Strauss's The Savage Mind was translated from his native tongue to ours. Now it is used for everything from the creative uses of leftovers ("culinary bricolage") to the cobbling together of disparate computer parts ("technical bricolage").
hortative \HOR-tuh-tiv\ adjective
: giving exhortation : advisory
Example sentence:
Amy suspected that her hortative letter to her son about the values of hard work and education would be ignored in the swirl of freshman partying, but she sent it anyway.
Did you know?
"We give nothing so freely as advice," observed French writer Duc de La Rochefoucauld in 1665. "Hortative" and "exhort" (meaning "to urge earnestly") are two words that testify to our eagerness to counsel others. Both trace to the Latin "hortari," meaning "to urge." "Hortative" has been used as both a noun (meaning "an advisory comment") and as an adjective since the 17th century. The noun is now uncommon, but it makes an appearance now and then, as in a 1992 article in The New York Times : "Facing directly into the camera, Mr. [Ross] Perot chronicled what he called the decline and potential fall of the American economy, keeping up a steady stream of hortatives as he went along. 'Let's just raise the hood and go to work!' he said. 'Let's just link arms and go do it!'"
pointillistic \pwann-tee-YIS-tik\ adjective
1 : composed of many discrete details or parts
*2 : of, relating to, or characteristic of pointillism or pointillists
Example sentence:
The painting was done in a pointillistic style.
Did you know?
In the late 19th century, Neo-Impressionists discovered that contrasting dots of color applied side by side would blend together and be perceived as a luminous whole when seen from a distance. With this knowledge they developed the technique of pointillism, also known as divisionism. It was in the 1920s that the adjective "pointillistic" finally needled its way into the English language - first, as a word describing something having many details or parts, such as an argument or musical composition; then, as the adjective referring to the art of pointillism and its artists, the pointillists.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
The good news is that if you're a fan of New England defensive back Randall Gay, the NFL no longer bans you from buying his jersey .
Gay is back on the back. Until Randall's arrival last season, NFL Shops were not permitted to sell you a personalized jersey with the word “Gay” printed on the back. Gay was one of over one thousand words compiled by the league and passed around to the hundreds of NFL Properties outlets.
They are the naughty words.
They are dangerous.
You may not purchase them.
Gay, thanks to Randall, is back, which is great news for Cleveland fans who still long for the days of their favorite hero, Ben Gay. Ben was a Brown a few years back who, because of his exaggerated size and tremendous athletic abilities, was able to defend himself throughout his young life against those who would taunt him for having the moniker of a muscle pain ointment.
Unfortunately, if you're an NFL follower who roots for Billy Beastiality, you're out of luck. There will be no animal love on the NFL planet. Beastiality, misspelled as it is, has made the list of no-nos. It‘s seems the perfect fit for those in the “Dogpound” or for a fan of Panthers, Rams or Sheep.
Sacramento Sheep?
Words are not the only expressions censored by the NFL. You may not purchase any team's jersey with the number “420”. That's a drug reference, Mom. Likewise, your habit of requesting the number “69” on every sporting shirt you've ever owned must come to a complete stop, according to league marketing officials. That's a sex reference, Mom. If your third choice after 420 and 69 is “666”, the number of the beast, save a trip to the NFL shop. They're not allowed to print that one. No “666” with the name “The Beast” emblazoned above on your Raiders shirt. That's a satanic reference, Mom.
Those, albeit ridiculous, are obvious. Other words included on the NFL's list are: Back Door, Balls, Beat Your Meat, Biatch, Blackout, Budweiser, Bull Dyke, Butt Head, Butt Stain, and Butt Plug (basically anything that starts with the word Butt). No butt references allowed. Nothing to do with carpets, either. And there will be no calls for cherries, clams, or dicks of any kind, shape or size (sorry, Mr. Butkus). The NFL wants nothing to do with the word “eat”, no matter what your choice of meal. Foot Licker is on the list, as is Free For All and God.
God?
What if I'm born again? What if, above all, even the mighty Pittsburgh Steelers, I want to place the name of my favorite deity? Sorry, says the NFL. There is no God - or, at least, there will be no reference to him on official game-licensed apparel. No God, no Jesus (a great blow to all those new fans south of the border), no Go to Hell, and no Christ. However, if you'd like a Dolphins jersey emblazoned with Allah, the NFL will not stop you. Seahawks and Buddha? Go for it. Chiefs and Khrishna? All you. But leave Jesus out of it. This football, for Christ's sake.
Molester is on the list. That's too bad. I'm sure policemen world wide need all the help they can get in identifying possible problem fans. Other criminal references on the league's “No Shirt” list include Murder, Hooker and Pot Smoker.
It's obvious that the league would like to keep people from offending those who are frightened by words. That's understandable. There's no accounting for taste, so sometimes it's necessary for an organization to give the general public some borders to color within. Otherwise, we'd have people walking around with football jerseys emblazoned with words like Horny, Jerk Off, or Kotex. Horny? Okay, got it. Doesn't bother me, but I can see how it might make some answer embarrassing questions from the youngsters. “What's horny mean, Dad?” is coming, but why make it happen this week? Jerk Off? I'm with you on that one. But, Kotex? Kotex? Who on Earth is spending more than a hundred bucks on a Jets jersey and asking the woman behind the counter to print Kotex across the shoulders? Were there really that many requests for that one - so many that the league had to include it on the list? Kotex is not the only big question mark the list raised. Are there that many people who have asked for Lucky Camel Toe? How about Poor White Trash, Smack the Monkey or Willie Wanker? They all made the list, which means either a lot of people are walking around, proud to be poor white trash, or the league has seen a trend the rest of us haven't yet spotted. If the NFL is correct, somebody at Wal-Mart better start stocking up on that poor white trash wear. It's back to school time.
The bottom line is that the league had to police idiots who buy it's product, just as they have to step forward at games to tell the average dimwit when he's had too much to drink, just as they must announce before each and every game that it's not accepted behavior to drop the “F Bomb” a hundred times a quarter.
By the way, “F Bomb” is indeed, on the list.
People are dumb as a bag of hammers - that's a given. But sometimes, you must allow people to show their cement-headedness so that they can learn. Rather than disallowing the words “Bin Laden” on a football jersey, as the NFL has recently ruled, why not let whatever dolt would order such a thing to go ahead and parade around in it? See how long that lasts.
You can make all the lists you'd like.
But you can't legislate stupidity, Mr. 420 Kotex Butt Plug.
georgic \JOR-jik\ adjective
: of or relating to agriculture
Example sentence:
"Lanford Wilson has created yet another remarkable play... a fascinating tale of a georgic Midwestern community and the secrets lurking beneath the surface of its bucolic hum." (Adweek, March 25, 2004)
Did you know?
The adjective "georgic," which dates from the first half of the 18th century, derives by way of Latin "georgicus" and Greek "geōrgikos" from the Greek noun "geōrgos," meaning "farmer." That noun, in turn, was formed by a combination of the prefix "geō-" (meaning "earth") and "ergon" ("work"), the latter of which gave us words such as "allergy" and "ergonomics." The noun sense of "georgic," which dates from the early 16th century, refers to a poem that deals with the practical aspects of agriculture and rural affairs. The standard for such poems, Virgil's Georgics, is responsible for its name. The poem, written between 37 and 30 B.C., called for a restoration of agricultural life in Italy after its farms fell into neglect during civil war.
expiate \EK-spee-ayt\ verb
transitive
1 : to extinguish the guilt incurred by
*2 : to make amends for
intransitive : to make expiation
Example sentence:
"It seemed to me that I was hurried on by an inevitable and unseen fate to this day of misery, and that now I was to expiate all my offences at the gallows...." (Daniel Defoe, Moll Flanders)
Did you know?
"Disaster shall fall upon you, which you will not be able to expiate." That ominous biblical prophecy (Isaiah 47:11 RSV) shows that "expiate" was once involved in confronting the forces of evil as well as in assuaging guilt. The word derives from "expiare," Latin for "to atone for," a root that in turn traces to the Latin term for "pious." "Expiate" originally referred to warding off evil by using sacred rites, or to using sacred rites to cleanse or purify something. By the 17th century, Shakespeare (and others) were using it to mean "to put an end to": "But when in thee time's furrows I behold, / Then look I death my days should expiate" ("Sonnet 22"). Those senses have since become obsolete, and now only the "extinguish the guilt" and "make amends" senses remain in use.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
cavalier \kav-uh-LEER\ adjective
1 : debonair
*2 : marked by or given to offhand and often disdainful dismissal of important matters
Example sentence:
"I'm tired of the cavalier way you brush off my concerns," Mom said, "so I'm taking away the car keys until you start listening to me."
Did you know?
According to a dictionary prepared by Thomas Blount in 1656, a cavalier was "a knight or gentleman, serving on horseback, a man of arms." That meaning is true to the history of the noun, which traces back to the Late Latin "caballarius," meaning "horseman." By around 1600, it had also come to denote "a roistering swaggering fellow." In the 1640s, English Puritans applied it disdainfully to their adversaries, the swashbuckling royalist followers of Charles I, who sported longish hair and swords. Although some thought those cavaliers "several sorts of Malignant Men, ... ready to commit all manner of Outrage and Violence," others saw them as quite suave - which may explain why "cavalier" can be either complimentary or a bit insulting.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
oriflamme \OR-uh-flam\ noun
: a banner, symbol, or ideal inspiring devotion or courage
Example sentence:
"My [word-a-day] calendar had become an oriflamme, inspiring me to try out my new grasp of the language, non-stop." (May Brown, Times Colonist [Victoria, BC], January 5, 2003)
Did you know?
The original "oriflamme" was the banner of Saint Denis, a patron saint of France who is said to have been the first bishop of Paris. Middle English speakers referred to this red or reddish orange banner using the Middle French term "oriflamble," from Old French "ori flambe," meaning "small flag." From the 12th to the 15th centuries, French kings carried the banner into battle as a way of inspiring their troops. This tactic met with such success that, by 1600, English speakers were using "oriflamme" to refer to any group's rallying symbol.
Hmmm. No mention of “porn actor stunt double”.
Sometimes when I run away from my job and head off on vacation to an exotic locale such as Lone Pine (or if we've saved some money, Vandergrift), I will leave a note on my studio door which reads, “Gone Fishin'”. After reading a study released this week by the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, I expect to be greeted upon my return from my next week off with looks of admiration and notes of appreciation from all those who should now realize what a brave and danger-loving individual I really am.
Fishing is the most dangerous job in America.
Fishing?!
In statistics revealed this week by the B.L.S. we are told that for every 100,000 commercial fishermen plying their trade in the U.S. last year, 118.4 were killed. That's a shocking enough statistic without realizing that somewhere, probably off the waters of Florida, four-tenths of a guy met his death. Commercial fishing, obviously, is much more dangerous than casting your line in Lake Dirty Diaper, hoping to land the elusive bottom-feeding Turdsucker. There are no stats to back my theory up, but I'm guessing that if more commercial fishermen drank heavily, as those of us who fish for fun do, there would be far fewer accidents. Once you've had a case of Old Frothingslosh, the need to reel in the prize winner diminishes somewhat and you take far fewer chances. The Bubba Gump Shrimp Company should take some advice. More booze, boys - especially you, the guy who (according to the government) is four-tenths dead.
The second most dangerous job, as stated by the U.S. Bureau of Labor, is logging. Here, once again, is something I've done. And let me tell you, there's nothing more invigorating after a day of heavy drinking and fishing than coming home and staggering out to the woods with a chainsaw. There were 80 deaths last year on commercial logging sites, or, as the B.L.S. so effectively points out, 92.9 deaths per 100,000 logging workers.
I've seen that point-nine guy.
They call him “Stumpy”.
Flying an airplane is not a safe job. There are many dangers, not the least of which are wacko religious nuts who want to alter the world's political makeup by taking over the controls after one easy lesson. I would pause again to suggest some heavy drinking for those involved in this profession, as I have stated for fishing and logging, but from what I've read, some pilots are far, far ahead of the curve on that one. Keep up the good work boys, and no matter what they tell you, carry a Glock on that jump from Boston to D.C. You don't want the next movie to be about you.
Structural iron and steel workers showed up as the fourth most dangerous job in America. That comes as no surprise. After all, you're working with heavy equipment while perilously perched on precipices, sometimes hundreds of feet in the air. The Bureau tells us that 35 ironworkers fell to their deaths last year in the United States. They don't however, mention anything about the poor saps on the ground that cushioned those falls.
Number five on the list of top ten most dangerous jobs was a slight surprise - garbage collectors. It always seemed like such a fun, clean and delightfully safe job. After all, what do you do all day? You stick your hands and arms into containers filled to the brim with germs and disease. You then empty those containers into a machine that has enough crushing power to flatten an automobile into a fashionable coffee table sold at a Shadyside furniture boutique. How could that possibly be dangerous?
The dangerous jobs list is rounded out by mentions of farming, electrical line workers, truck drivers and construction laborers. While each of these careers has its obvious inherent dangers, many resulting in death, there are some jobs that surprised me in their absence on the list.
The rodeo is a dangerous workplace. Whether you're a clown, the strange misnomer given to the men whose job it is to distract an angry bull from goring a cowboy by tossing yourself in front of the snorting monster, or the man who rides crazed wild broncos for a living, there are perils aplenty at the world's fastest growing sport. The hairiest position at the rodeo has to be the person whose job it is to attach the leather strap to the bull's gonads just prior to a bull riding competition. After all, it is that strap and its annoyance that makes those bulls so angry. They're normally happy-go-lucky, but turn into crazed killers once someone puts the stranglehold on their jewels.
But don't we all?
Another job I would have to rate in the top ten of uncertainty is UN Peacekeeper. Let's send you into a war zone armed only with a sky blue helmet and the hope that, deep down inside, we can all live together as one on a planet of lollipops and rainbows. While the rest of the world is walking around high as a kite on religion and local hallucinogens, the UN Peacekeepers are armed with popguns and pleas for reconciliation.
If it's all the same to you, I'd rather collect garbage.
And finally, how can any list of most dangerous jobs be complete without a mention of the Third Most Important Guy in al-Qeada? In the past four years, nine men have held that esteemed position. Eight are now dead. We can't seem to kill the top guy - Osama bin-Laden. We're having a bit of trouble pinning down the number two man in al-Qeada, Ayman al-Zawahiri. The number threes, however, have fallen one after another in a death rate that would measure far beyond anything on the government's statistical list. Since nine-eleven, nine men have been mentioned as the number three in line at bin-Laden's corporate hierarchy. Eight have been killed. That's more than 90,000 deaths for every 100,000 number threes on the job.
Thanks, Mr. Osama, but I'm having second thoughts about applying.
I think, given the possibilities, I'd rather be fishing.
pellucid \puh-LOO-sid\ adjective
*1 : admitting maximum passage of light without diffusion or distortion
2 : reflecting light evenly from all surfaces
3 : easy to understand
Example sentence:
The coastal waters were clean and pellucid, allowing us to easily identify the marine life on the ocean floor.
Did you know?
"Pellucid" ultimately derives from the Latin "lucēre" ("to shine"), which in turn contains the root "luc-" ("light"). "Pellucid" is formed from "per" ("through") plus "lucidus" ("lucid, clear"). "Pellucid" has many shining relatives in English. Among the offspring of "lucēre" are "translucent" (essentially, "clear enough to allow light to pass through"), "elucidate" ("to make clear, explain"), "lucent" ("luminous" or "clear"), and of course "lucid" itself (which can mean "shining," "mentally sound," or "easily understood"). Another related word is "Lucifer" (literally, "light-bearer"). Other relatives - such as "lackluster" ("lacking brightness"), "illustrate" (originally, "to make bright"), and "lustrous" ("shining" or "radiant") - trace from the related verb "lustrare" ("to brighten"). Clearly, "pellucid" is just one of a family of brilliant terms.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
incommensurable \in-kuh-MEN-suh-ruh-bul\ adjective
: not commensurable; broadly : lacking a basis of comparison in respect to a quality normally subject to comparison
Example sentence:
The two theories are incommensurable, making any attempt at comparison across disciplines ridiculous.
Did you know?
"Commensurable" means "having a common measure" or "corresponding in size, extent, amount, or degree." Its antonym "incommensurable" generally refers to things that are unlike and incompatible, sharing no common ground (as in the "incommensurable theories" of the example sentence), or to things that are very disproportionate, often to the point of defying comparison ("incommensurable crimes"). Both words entered English in the 1500s and were originally used (as they still can be) for numbers that have or don't have a common divisor. They came to English by way of Middle French and Late Latin, ultimately deriving from the Latin noun "mensura," meaning "measure." "Mensura" is also an ancestor of "commensurate" (meaning "coextensive" or "proportionate") and "incommensurate" ("disproportionate" or "insufficient"), which overlap in meaning with "commensurable" and "incommensurable" but are not exact synonyms.
foodie \FOO-dee\ noun
: a person having an avid interest in the latest food fads
Example sentence:
A serious foodie, Beryl reads cookbooks like novels and scours specialty shops in search of exotic ingredients.
Did you know?
"Foodie" is a relatively recent addition to our language (dating from the early 1980s), but it derives from a much older word, "food," which has been with us for as long as there has been anything that could be called English. "Food" can be traced back through Middle English to the Old English form "fōda," which is itself related to Old High German "fuotar," meaning "food" or "fodder," and Latin "panis," meaning "bread." "Panis" is the source for "empanada," a Spanish turnover with a sweet filling, "panatela," a type of cigar, "panettone," an Italian bread containing raisins and candied fruit, and "pantry," a room used for the storage of provisions.
sabot \sa-BOH\ noun
1 *a : a wooden shoe worn in various European countries b (1) : a strap across the instep in a shoe especially of the sandal type (2) : a shoe having a sabot strap
2 : a thrust-transmitting carrier that positions a missile in a gun barrel or launching tube and that prevents the escape of gas ahead of the missile
3 : a dealing box designed to hold several decks of playing cards
Example sentence:
"All her kind, at least in the countryside, wore... sabots, well past the century's end." (Eugen Weber, France, Fin de Siècle)
Did you know?
The term "sabot" may have first been introduced into English in a 1607 translation from French: "Wooden shoes," readers were informed, are "properly called sabots." The gun-related sense appeared in the mid-1800s with the invention of a wooden gizmo that kept gun shells from shifting in the gun barrel. Apparently, someone thought the device resembled a wooden shoe and named it "sabot" (with later generations of this device carrying on the name). Another kind of French sabot - a metal "shoe" used to secure rails to railway ties - is said to be the origin of the word "sabotage," from workers destroying the sabots during a French railway strike in the early 1900s. The word "sabot" is probably related to "savate," a Middle French word for an old shoe.
Once again, let us review: no bottled water on the plane.
This week the little Tri-State Airport down in Huntington, West Virginia, was shut down for more than nine hours after a Pakistani woman attempted to board a Charlotte-bound airplane while carrying two bottles of liquid. One was drinking water. The other was filled a face cleanser. For some reason, these two bottles tested positive for explosives residue (twice) and the woman, 28-year old Rima Qayyum, who is four months pregnant and lives in nearby Barboursville, West Virginia, was asked to please step aside.
Rima, dressed in traditional Islamic headcover, cooperated completely with authorities. She was, by all reports, polite and patient as the FBI and local authorities tested and retested her water and soap. Meanwhile, the terminal was evacuated and the more than 100 passengers headed for North Carolina were asked to be as patient as possible. It took nine hours to straighten the matter out. By the time Ms. Qayyum was found to be exactly what she is, a expectant mother headed for a connecting flight in Charlotte on her way home to see the family in Detroit, the national media had blown the story completely out of proportion, one report stating that Rima was a “Pakistani radical”.
The liquids in question were exactly as she described them - a bottle of water and a bottle of astringent for her skin. Something in the liquid or the plastic of the bottles themselves triggered a positive warning from the field tests. There was no other recourse for airport screeners than to alert the FBI and ask all customers to hang out at the Tri-State Airport, where there is no SkyMall, no Starbucks and no Borders Books to pass the time.
They did buy everyone pizza at Sbarro's.
The aftermath of this event is that Ms. Qayyum's mother, Mian, has reacted as any angry, protective mother would, telling the press that the airport incident was “…not only a false alarm, it was racial discrimination because there was nothing.” She added, “They should clear her name and apologize on national TV.”
I understand your anger, Mrs. Qayyum. Perhaps if I were of Pakistani origin, wore traditional Islamic garb and was stopped at the airport every time I went through the screening process, I would be mad as hell as well. Fortunately for me, Irish-Italian-Danish Americans from Pittsburgh did not plot to blow up trans-Atlantic airliners this month.
Pakistanis did.
Judging from her actions, your daughter is a saint. Four months pregnant, sitting in an airport in Southern West Virginia in the middle of a hot August day, stared at and immediately profiled as the being the cause of all the problems in the world, she kept her cool. Everyone contacted by reporters, those on hand who witnessed events, tell the same story: Rima is a nice woman. She just happened to miss the warnings about liquid carry-ons.
And the airport screeners? They did their jobs. When it looked as if this woman was completely innocent of any wrongdoing or evil plots, they did their jobs. They tested her water bottle again. And it came up “positive” for explosive materials. Again.
You're correct to protect your kid. You're absolutely right to call it as you see it: racial profiling. That's exactly what it was. And until white yuppies from Indiana start trying to blow up airplanes, it will continue to be so. If you want to blame someone for the situation your daughter found herself, point your scorn at the more than 20 would-be killers who were arrested last week. Most of them, like your daughter, were in their mid-twenties and Pakistani.
Being “pulled aside” and asked impolite and personal questions about your background, belongings and future plans while already undergoing that most grating of experiences, air travel, can be enough to make someone crazy with anger. Believe me. I know. Back in the day when I had hair down to my waist and was often boarding airplanes while carrying guitar cases or electronic equipment, I was profiled so often that it became routine. After a while my wife and I would factor in the time we'd undoubtedly spend in the little room off to the side of the screeners, explaining who I was, where I was headed and who I was meeting when I got to my destination. I have been searched more than once, questioned countless times and yes, berated when my answers did not come quickly and with politeness. It stunk and all happened long before the world became a much more dangerous place in which to fly. I can only imagine what it would be like now, wearing a turban, sweating and fidgety, rushing to make my connecting flight.
I will not offer an apology to either of the Mrs. Qayyums, but I can offer some advice:
Be proud to be Pakistani.
Be proud to be an American.
Most of all, be understanding of the situation you now find yourself. Your nationality and heritage not only define who you are - unfortunately, in this, the twenty-first century, they also make you a suspect.
numismatic \noo-miz-MAT-ik\ adjective
*1 : of or relating to the study or collection of coins, tokens, and money
2 : of or relating to currency : monetary
Example sentence:
Jason was disappointed to learn that the 1936 buffalo nickel he owned had virtually no numismatic value.
Did you know?
The first metal coins are believed to have been used as currency by the Lydians, a people of Asia Minor, during the 7th century BC, and it is likely that folks began collecting coins not long after that. The name that we give to the collection of coins today is "numismatics," a word that also encompasses the collection of paper money and of medals. The noun "numismatics" and the adjective "numismatic" came to English (via French "numismatique") from Latin and Greek "nomisma," meaning "coin." "Nomisma" in turn derives from the Greek verb "nomizein" ("to use") and ultimately from the noun "nomos" ("custom" or "usage"). From these roots we also get "numismatist," referring to a person who collects coins, medals, or paper money.
bedizen \bih-DYE-zen\ verb
: to dress or adorn gaudily
Example sentence:
"Adorned by minarets and spires and bedizened by more than a million lights, Coney Island embodied what has been called the 'architecture of exhilaration.'" (Blaine Harden, New York Times, August 28, 1999)
Did you know?
"Bedizen" doesn't have the flashy history you might expect - its roots lie in the rather quiet art of spinning thread. In times past, the spinning process began with the placement of fibers (such as flax) on an implement called a "distaff"; the fibers were then drawn out from the distaff and twisted into thread. "Bedizen" descends from the verb "disen," which meant "to dress a distaff with flax" and which came to English by way of Middle Dutch. The spelling of "disen" eventually became "dizen," and its meaning expanded to cover the "dressing up" of things other than distaffs. In the mid-17th century, English speakers began using "bedizen" with the same meaning.
obloquy \AH-bluh-kwee\ noun
*1 : a strongly condemnatory utterance : abusive language
2 : the condition of one that is discredited : bad repute
Example sentence:
The manager walked quickly back to the dugout as insults and obloquy rained down from the stands.
Did you know?
English speakers can choose from several synonyms to name a tongue-lashing. "Abuse" is a good general term that usually stresses the anger of the speaker and the harshness of the language, as in "scathing verbal abuse." "Vituperation" often specifies fluent, sustained abuse; "a torrent of vituperation" is a typical use of this term. "Invective" implies vehemence comparable to "vituperation," but may suggest greater verbal and rhetorical skill; it may also apply especially to a public denunciation, as in "blistering political invective." "Obloquy," which comes from the Late Latin "ob-" (meaning "against") plus "loqui" (meaning "to speak"), suggests defamation and consequent shame and disgrace; a typical example of its use would be "subjected to obloquy and derision."
mala fide \mal-uh-FYE-dee\ adverb or adjective
: with or in bad faith
Example sentence:
The judge concluded that the company had acted mala fide in concealing the information.
Did you know?
You may be familiar with the more commonly used "bona fide" (\BOH-nuh-fyde\), which can mean "made in good faith" (as in "a bona fide agreement") or "genuine or real" ("a bona fide miracle"). Not surprisingly, in Latin "bona fide" means "in good faith" and "mala fide" means "in bad faith." These days "mala fide," which dates from the mid-16th century, tends to turn up primarily in legal contexts.
kludge \KLOOJ\ noun
: a system and especially a computer system made up of poorly matched components
Example sentence:
"The original satellite contrivance was the asynchronous satellite downlink with a phone connection uplink. This was doomed to fail because it was a kludge." (John C. Dvorak, Boardwatch Magazine, February 2002)
Did you know?
The first recorded use of the word "kludge" is attributed to Jackson W. Granholm, who defined the word in a 1962 issue of the magazine Datamation as: "an ill-assorted collection of poorly-matching parts, forming a distressing whole." He further explained that it was derived from the German word "klug," meaning "smart" or "witty." Why Granholm included a "d" in his spelling is not known. What we do know is that speakers of American English have agreed to keep it silent, making the vowel pronunciation of "kludge" reflect the pronunciation of German "klug" (\KLOOK\). We can also tell you that not everyone agrees with Granholm on the "d" matter: the spelling "kluge" is also popularly used.
noisome \NOY-sum\ adjective
*1 : noxious, harmful
2 a : offensive to the senses and especially to the sense of smell b : highly obnoxious or objectionable
Example sentence:
"The streets were narrow and very dirty, the air smoky and noisome, the people mostly wretched." ( Ken Follett, The Man from St. Petersburg)
Did you know?
Consider the two following sentences: "The babysitter tried to quiet the noisome children." "My son works at a fish market, and his clothes bring a noisome stench into the house when he comes home." Which sentence uses "noisome" correctly? If you picked the second one, you chose correctly. Though "noisome" sounds like it might be a synonym of "noisy," it's not. Something noisome is disgusting, like that fishy stench, or harmful, the way toxic fumes or waste can be. "Noisome" does not come from "noise," but from the Middle English word "noysome," which has the same meaning as "noisome." The "noy" of "noysome" means "annoyance," and comes from Anglo-French "anui," which also means "annoyance."
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence."
1 : a break in the flow of sound usually in the middle of a line of verse
*2 : break, interruption
3 : a pause marking a rhythmic point of division in a melody
Example sentence:
"Without so much as the caesura of a drawn breath I was first shouting in joy, then screaming in shock." (E.L. Doctorow, World's Fair)
Did you know?
Caesuras (or caesurae) are those slight pauses one makes as one reads verse. While it may seem that their most obvious role is to emphasize the metrical construction of the verse, more often we need these little stops (which may be, but are not necessarily, set off by punctuation) to introduce the cadence and phrasing of natural speech into the metrical scheme. The word "caesura," borrowed from Late Latin, is ultimately from Latin "caedere" meaning "to cut." Nearly as old as the 450-year-old poetry senses is the general meaning "a break or interruption."
disparate \DISS-puh-rut\ adjective
1 : containing or made up of fundamentally different and often incongruous elements
*2 : markedly distinct in quality or character
Example sentence:
James often complained about the disparate expectations for himself and his younger sister, who was required to do far fewer chores than he was.
Did you know?
Have you ever tried to sort differing objects into separate categories? If so, you're well prepared to understand the origins of "disparate." The word, which first appeared in English in the 15th century, derives from "disparatus," the past participle of the Latin verb "disparare," meaning "to separate." "Disparare," in turn, comes from "parare," a verb meaning "to prepare." Other descendants of "parare" in English include both "separate" and "prepare," as well as "repair," "apparatus," and even "vituperate" ("to berate or scold severely"). Incidentally, "disparate" can also be a noun meaning "one of two or more things so unequal or unlike that they cannot be compared with each other" (it's usually used in the plural).
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
paparazzo \pah-puh-RAHT-soh\ noun
: a freelance photographer who aggressively pursues celebrities for the purpose of taking candid photographs
Example sentence:
As a child star she had been constantly pursued by paparazzi, but only a single photographer showed up at her 21st-birthday bash.
Did you know?
We can thank Italian for "paparazzo" and its plural "paparazzi." On the immediate origin of "paparazzo," there is complete agreement - it was the surname of one of four aggressive photographers in Federico Fellini's 1959 film La dolce vita. Opinions divide, however, on where Fellini got the word. According to Fellini himself, the name was taken from an opera libretto. But "Paparazzo" was also the name of a hotelkeeper in George Gissing's 1901 travel memoir By the Ionian Sea. Some folks have also noted that in the dialect of Ennio Flaiano, who co-wrote the script of La dolce vita with Fellini, "paparazzo" refers to a kind of clam that snaps its shell open and shut frequently. This supposedly reminded Flaiano of the action of a camera shutter.
esoteric \es-uh-TAIR-ik\ adjective
*1 : designed for or understood by a small number of people; broadly: difficult to understand
2 : private, confidential
Example sentence:
Computer programming was once an esoteric subject, but beginner courses and how-to books have made it easier to grasp.
Did you know?
The opposite of "esoteric" is "exoteric," which means "suitable to be imparted to the public." According to one account, those who were deemed worthy to attend Aristotle's learned discussions were known as his "esoterics," his confidants, while those who merely attended his popular evening lectures were called his "exoterics." Since material that is geared toward a target audience is often not as easily comprehensible to outside observers, "esoteric" acquired an extended meaning of "difficult to understand." Both "esoteric" and "exoteric" started appearing in English in the mid-1600s; "esoteric" traces back to ancient Greece by way of the Late Latin "esotericus"; the Greek "esōterikos" comes from the comparative form of "eisō," which means "within."
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
To be annoyed in English, press “1”. To be ignored in Spanish, press “ocho”.
We live out beyond where the newspapers are delivered, in the land of septic tanks. There is no cable television as yet, although we've heard rumors. It is said the rescue expedition sent by Comcast has narrowed its search to within a thousand acres, more or less, of our road.
Until then, the modern country couch man must survive.
In a world without cable, the modern country couch man is faced with three options. The first is that of choosing to have no television whatsoever. The only people who have achieved this lofty goal are six hippies from the 60's (now in their 60's) who entertain one another by sitting on a porch and singing folk songs.
And who really wants that?
Modern country couch man choice number two for those without cable access is the antenna. You may remember the antenna from old black and white movies where the action happened on the rooftops of tenements somewhere near the docks. Antennas will allow you to watch the four major networks, along with, perhaps, the PBS station and a pirate signal broadcast from an odd man's garage somewhere near Wheeling. While his snow-laden bellowing about how the “ape race is ruining America” may provide minutes of sideshow interest, it's not exactly entertainment. For that, you must turn to country couch man option number three, the satellite dish.
Give them a call. They'll find your house, no matter how far from civilization, slap a pizza-sized aluminum receiver on the tin roof of your barn, aim it at the satellites and bless you with every program ever shown and then repeated via the West coast feed.
Until one day, when out of the blue, it breaks.
I spent an hour Wednesday night on the phone listening to someone in East Punjab leaf through what I imagined to be a copy of “Satellite Dishes for Dummies”. Crouched in front of my receiver, my remote in hand, I followed instructions given by the sullen, bored and accented toll-free technician. She was no help but I was happy to be speaking with any human being after having been forced through the maze of telephone key pad commands that now crack the whip on we poor, unsuspecting customer-dogs. “If you're having trouble with reception, press one. If you'd like to order pay-per-view programming, press two. If you would like to speak to a technician, press three. If you're a crazed man from somewhere near Wheeling who is broadcasting on a pirated signal, spouting racist diatribe, press K-K-K.”
After twenty minutes of being commanded to fiddle with buttons by a woman from who-knows-where, it was decided that a technician was, indeed, needed. If they packed the mules and headed out at first light, I was told, they could be at our house by Sunday between noon and five. All it would cost me was forty-nine dollars. I was asked if I'd like that to go right onto my bill. “Why, sure!” I happily agreed. “I don't own this equipment. It's yours. In fact, if I don't return it, you'll charge me for it. But now that your faulty equipment has broken, I'd be thrilled to pay fifty bucks to have one of your outstanding employees fix it. Why didn't you ask sooner?”
During this entire “do-it-yourself-home-satellite-dish-repair” phone seminar, I heard sporadic yelling from upstairs. As the technician asked me to switch from “menu” to “program” to “you're screwed”, someone on our second floor was screaming about “Asians”.
Strangely enough, the very same day the dish flew south, the telephone reception at our house grew a new healthy crop of static. My wife was upstairs talking to the phone company on her cell phone as I was downstairs with the dish people on the static line. Each of us spent an hour of our lives on telephones, pushing appropriate buttons, getting no place slowly. Later, after we compared notes, I learned the phone company is in fact far worse than the dish people when it comes to automation. They not only want you to push the appropriate button, but also would like you to sit up and bark for your supper. If you grow frustrated enough with the non-response from the phone company's machines and wish to speak to a real human being, the computer actually commands you to say the word “Agent” into your phone.
It wasn't “Asian” after all.
It was “Agent”.
And so, while the dish woman asked me to use my remote to “adjust my signal strength”, I heard, from somewhere above, my wife yelling, “Agent!” And as the dish woman informed me that I'd be paying the dish company to repair the faulty equipment that I do not own, I heard my wife repeat, “Agent! Agent! Agent!” from above. And as the dish woman tried to extort six bucks worth of protection money from me, I was interrupted in answering by a crazed woman on the second floor, screaming “AGENT! AGENT! AGENT! AGENT! AGENT! AGENT AGENT AGENT!!!!” And then I heard the sound of a window sliding open and a cell phone being hurled into a cornfield.
So as we sat on our porch Sunday between noon and five waiting for the dish repair man, singing a couple of verses of “Michael Rowed the Boat Ashore”, we thanked our lucky stars we live out beyond where they deliver newspapers, in the land of septic tanks. It's place where you cannot get cable TV, but the good news is that you can yell the word “Agent” as loudly and often as you like and no one will say a thing.
The bad news is the groundhogs now have a cell phone.
bricolage \bree-koh-LAHZH\ noun
: construction achieved by using whatever comes to hand; also : something constructed in this way
Example sentence:
Knowing that the motor was assembled from a hasty bricolage of junk parts, Raphael had little hope that it would run effectively.
Did you know?
According to French social anthropologist Claude Levi-Strauss, the artist "shapes the beautiful and useful out of the dump heap of human life." Levi-Strauss compared this artistic process to the work of a handyman who solves technical or mechanical problems with whatever materials are available. He referred to that process of making do as "bricolage," a term derived from the French verb "bricoler" (meaning "to putter about") and related to "bricoleur," the French name for a jack-of-all-trades. "Bricolage" made its way from French to English in 1966, when Levi-Strauss's The Savage Mind was translated from his native tongue to ours. Now it is used for everything from the creative uses of leftovers ("culinary bricolage") to the cobbling together of disparate computer parts ("technical bricolage").
hortative \HOR-tuh-tiv\ adjective
: giving exhortation : advisory
Example sentence:
Amy suspected that her hortative letter to her son about the values of hard work and education would be ignored in the swirl of freshman partying, but she sent it anyway.
Did you know?
"We give nothing so freely as advice," observed French writer Duc de La Rochefoucauld in 1665. "Hortative" and "exhort" (meaning "to urge earnestly") are two words that testify to our eagerness to counsel others. Both trace to the Latin "hortari," meaning "to urge." "Hortative" has been used as both a noun (meaning "an advisory comment") and as an adjective since the 17th century. The noun is now uncommon, but it makes an appearance now and then, as in a 1992 article in The New York Times : "Facing directly into the camera, Mr. [Ross] Perot chronicled what he called the decline and potential fall of the American economy, keeping up a steady stream of hortatives as he went along. 'Let's just raise the hood and go to work!' he said. 'Let's just link arms and go do it!'"
pointillistic \pwann-tee-YIS-tik\ adjective
1 : composed of many discrete details or parts
*2 : of, relating to, or characteristic of pointillism or pointillists
Example sentence:
The painting was done in a pointillistic style.
Did you know?
In the late 19th century, Neo-Impressionists discovered that contrasting dots of color applied side by side would blend together and be perceived as a luminous whole when seen from a distance. With this knowledge they developed the technique of pointillism, also known as divisionism. It was in the 1920s that the adjective "pointillistic" finally needled its way into the English language - first, as a word describing something having many details or parts, such as an argument or musical composition; then, as the adjective referring to the art of pointillism and its artists, the pointillists.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
The good news is that if you're a fan of New England defensive back Randall Gay, the NFL no longer bans you from buying his jersey .
Gay is back on the back. Until Randall's arrival last season, NFL Shops were not permitted to sell you a personalized jersey with the word “Gay” printed on the back. Gay was one of over one thousand words compiled by the league and passed around to the hundreds of NFL Properties outlets.
They are the naughty words.
They are dangerous.
You may not purchase them.
Gay, thanks to Randall, is back, which is great news for Cleveland fans who still long for the days of their favorite hero, Ben Gay. Ben was a Brown a few years back who, because of his exaggerated size and tremendous athletic abilities, was able to defend himself throughout his young life against those who would taunt him for having the moniker of a muscle pain ointment.
Unfortunately, if you're an NFL follower who roots for Billy Beastiality, you're out of luck. There will be no animal love on the NFL planet. Beastiality, misspelled as it is, has made the list of no-nos. It‘s seems the perfect fit for those in the “Dogpound” or for a fan of Panthers, Rams or Sheep.
Sacramento Sheep?
Words are not the only expressions censored by the NFL. You may not purchase any team's jersey with the number “420”. That's a drug reference, Mom. Likewise, your habit of requesting the number “69” on every sporting shirt you've ever owned must come to a complete stop, according to league marketing officials. That's a sex reference, Mom. If your third choice after 420 and 69 is “666”, the number of the beast, save a trip to the NFL shop. They're not allowed to print that one. No “666” with the name “The Beast” emblazoned above on your Raiders shirt. That's a satanic reference, Mom.
Those, albeit ridiculous, are obvious. Other words included on the NFL's list are: Back Door, Balls, Beat Your Meat, Biatch, Blackout, Budweiser, Bull Dyke, Butt Head, Butt Stain, and Butt Plug (basically anything that starts with the word Butt). No butt references allowed. Nothing to do with carpets, either. And there will be no calls for cherries, clams, or dicks of any kind, shape or size (sorry, Mr. Butkus). The NFL wants nothing to do with the word “eat”, no matter what your choice of meal. Foot Licker is on the list, as is Free For All and God.
God?
What if I'm born again? What if, above all, even the mighty Pittsburgh Steelers, I want to place the name of my favorite deity? Sorry, says the NFL. There is no God - or, at least, there will be no reference to him on official game-licensed apparel. No God, no Jesus (a great blow to all those new fans south of the border), no Go to Hell, and no Christ. However, if you'd like a Dolphins jersey emblazoned with Allah, the NFL will not stop you. Seahawks and Buddha? Go for it. Chiefs and Khrishna? All you. But leave Jesus out of it. This football, for Christ's sake.
Molester is on the list. That's too bad. I'm sure policemen world wide need all the help they can get in identifying possible problem fans. Other criminal references on the league's “No Shirt” list include Murder, Hooker and Pot Smoker.
It's obvious that the league would like to keep people from offending those who are frightened by words. That's understandable. There's no accounting for taste, so sometimes it's necessary for an organization to give the general public some borders to color within. Otherwise, we'd have people walking around with football jerseys emblazoned with words like Horny, Jerk Off, or Kotex. Horny? Okay, got it. Doesn't bother me, but I can see how it might make some answer embarrassing questions from the youngsters. “What's horny mean, Dad?” is coming, but why make it happen this week? Jerk Off? I'm with you on that one. But, Kotex? Kotex? Who on Earth is spending more than a hundred bucks on a Jets jersey and asking the woman behind the counter to print Kotex across the shoulders? Were there really that many requests for that one - so many that the league had to include it on the list? Kotex is not the only big question mark the list raised. Are there that many people who have asked for Lucky Camel Toe? How about Poor White Trash, Smack the Monkey or Willie Wanker? They all made the list, which means either a lot of people are walking around, proud to be poor white trash, or the league has seen a trend the rest of us haven't yet spotted. If the NFL is correct, somebody at Wal-Mart better start stocking up on that poor white trash wear. It's back to school time.
The bottom line is that the league had to police idiots who buy it's product, just as they have to step forward at games to tell the average dimwit when he's had too much to drink, just as they must announce before each and every game that it's not accepted behavior to drop the “F Bomb” a hundred times a quarter.
By the way, “F Bomb” is indeed, on the list.
People are dumb as a bag of hammers - that's a given. But sometimes, you must allow people to show their cement-headedness so that they can learn. Rather than disallowing the words “Bin Laden” on a football jersey, as the NFL has recently ruled, why not let whatever dolt would order such a thing to go ahead and parade around in it? See how long that lasts.
You can make all the lists you'd like.
But you can't legislate stupidity, Mr. 420 Kotex Butt Plug.
georgic \JOR-jik\ adjective
: of or relating to agriculture
Example sentence:
"Lanford Wilson has created yet another remarkable play... a fascinating tale of a georgic Midwestern community and the secrets lurking beneath the surface of its bucolic hum." (Adweek, March 25, 2004)
Did you know?
The adjective "georgic," which dates from the first half of the 18th century, derives by way of Latin "georgicus" and Greek "geōrgikos" from the Greek noun "geōrgos," meaning "farmer." That noun, in turn, was formed by a combination of the prefix "geō-" (meaning "earth") and "ergon" ("work"), the latter of which gave us words such as "allergy" and "ergonomics." The noun sense of "georgic," which dates from the early 16th century, refers to a poem that deals with the practical aspects of agriculture and rural affairs. The standard for such poems, Virgil's Georgics, is responsible for its name. The poem, written between 37 and 30 B.C., called for a restoration of agricultural life in Italy after its farms fell into neglect during civil war.
expiate \EK-spee-ayt\ verb
transitive
1 : to extinguish the guilt incurred by
*2 : to make amends for
intransitive : to make expiation
Example sentence:
"It seemed to me that I was hurried on by an inevitable and unseen fate to this day of misery, and that now I was to expiate all my offences at the gallows...." (Daniel Defoe, Moll Flanders)
Did you know?
"Disaster shall fall upon you, which you will not be able to expiate." That ominous biblical prophecy (Isaiah 47:11 RSV) shows that "expiate" was once involved in confronting the forces of evil as well as in assuaging guilt. The word derives from "expiare," Latin for "to atone for," a root that in turn traces to the Latin term for "pious." "Expiate" originally referred to warding off evil by using sacred rites, or to using sacred rites to cleanse or purify something. By the 17th century, Shakespeare (and others) were using it to mean "to put an end to": "But when in thee time's furrows I behold, / Then look I death my days should expiate" ("Sonnet 22"). Those senses have since become obsolete, and now only the "extinguish the guilt" and "make amends" senses remain in use.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
cavalier \kav-uh-LEER\ adjective
1 : debonair
*2 : marked by or given to offhand and often disdainful dismissal of important matters
Example sentence:
"I'm tired of the cavalier way you brush off my concerns," Mom said, "so I'm taking away the car keys until you start listening to me."
Did you know?
According to a dictionary prepared by Thomas Blount in 1656, a cavalier was "a knight or gentleman, serving on horseback, a man of arms." That meaning is true to the history of the noun, which traces back to the Late Latin "caballarius," meaning "horseman." By around 1600, it had also come to denote "a roistering swaggering fellow." In the 1640s, English Puritans applied it disdainfully to their adversaries, the swashbuckling royalist followers of Charles I, who sported longish hair and swords. Although some thought those cavaliers "several sorts of Malignant Men, ... ready to commit all manner of Outrage and Violence," others saw them as quite suave - which may explain why "cavalier" can be either complimentary or a bit insulting.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
oriflamme \OR-uh-flam\ noun
: a banner, symbol, or ideal inspiring devotion or courage
Example sentence:
"My [word-a-day] calendar had become an oriflamme, inspiring me to try out my new grasp of the language, non-stop." (May Brown, Times Colonist [Victoria, BC], January 5, 2003)
Did you know?
The original "oriflamme" was the banner of Saint Denis, a patron saint of France who is said to have been the first bishop of Paris. Middle English speakers referred to this red or reddish orange banner using the Middle French term "oriflamble," from Old French "ori flambe," meaning "small flag." From the 12th to the 15th centuries, French kings carried the banner into battle as a way of inspiring their troops. This tactic met with such success that, by 1600, English speakers were using "oriflamme" to refer to any group's rallying symbol.
Hmmm. No mention of “porn actor stunt double”.
Sometimes when I run away from my job and head off on vacation to an exotic locale such as Lone Pine (or if we've saved some money, Vandergrift), I will leave a note on my studio door which reads, “Gone Fishin'”. After reading a study released this week by the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, I expect to be greeted upon my return from my next week off with looks of admiration and notes of appreciation from all those who should now realize what a brave and danger-loving individual I really am.
Fishing is the most dangerous job in America.
Fishing?!
In statistics revealed this week by the B.L.S. we are told that for every 100,000 commercial fishermen plying their trade in the U.S. last year, 118.4 were killed. That's a shocking enough statistic without realizing that somewhere, probably off the waters of Florida, four-tenths of a guy met his death. Commercial fishing, obviously, is much more dangerous than casting your line in Lake Dirty Diaper, hoping to land the elusive bottom-feeding Turdsucker. There are no stats to back my theory up, but I'm guessing that if more commercial fishermen drank heavily, as those of us who fish for fun do, there would be far fewer accidents. Once you've had a case of Old Frothingslosh, the need to reel in the prize winner diminishes somewhat and you take far fewer chances. The Bubba Gump Shrimp Company should take some advice. More booze, boys - especially you, the guy who (according to the government) is four-tenths dead.
The second most dangerous job, as stated by the U.S. Bureau of Labor, is logging. Here, once again, is something I've done. And let me tell you, there's nothing more invigorating after a day of heavy drinking and fishing than coming home and staggering out to the woods with a chainsaw. There were 80 deaths last year on commercial logging sites, or, as the B.L.S. so effectively points out, 92.9 deaths per 100,000 logging workers.
I've seen that point-nine guy.
They call him “Stumpy”.
Flying an airplane is not a safe job. There are many dangers, not the least of which are wacko religious nuts who want to alter the world's political makeup by taking over the controls after one easy lesson. I would pause again to suggest some heavy drinking for those involved in this profession, as I have stated for fishing and logging, but from what I've read, some pilots are far, far ahead of the curve on that one. Keep up the good work boys, and no matter what they tell you, carry a Glock on that jump from Boston to D.C. You don't want the next movie to be about you.
Structural iron and steel workers showed up as the fourth most dangerous job in America. That comes as no surprise. After all, you're working with heavy equipment while perilously perched on precipices, sometimes hundreds of feet in the air. The Bureau tells us that 35 ironworkers fell to their deaths last year in the United States. They don't however, mention anything about the poor saps on the ground that cushioned those falls.
Number five on the list of top ten most dangerous jobs was a slight surprise - garbage collectors. It always seemed like such a fun, clean and delightfully safe job. After all, what do you do all day? You stick your hands and arms into containers filled to the brim with germs and disease. You then empty those containers into a machine that has enough crushing power to flatten an automobile into a fashionable coffee table sold at a Shadyside furniture boutique. How could that possibly be dangerous?
The dangerous jobs list is rounded out by mentions of farming, electrical line workers, truck drivers and construction laborers. While each of these careers has its obvious inherent dangers, many resulting in death, there are some jobs that surprised me in their absence on the list.
The rodeo is a dangerous workplace. Whether you're a clown, the strange misnomer given to the men whose job it is to distract an angry bull from goring a cowboy by tossing yourself in front of the snorting monster, or the man who rides crazed wild broncos for a living, there are perils aplenty at the world's fastest growing sport. The hairiest position at the rodeo has to be the person whose job it is to attach the leather strap to the bull's gonads just prior to a bull riding competition. After all, it is that strap and its annoyance that makes those bulls so angry. They're normally happy-go-lucky, but turn into crazed killers once someone puts the stranglehold on their jewels.
But don't we all?
Another job I would have to rate in the top ten of uncertainty is UN Peacekeeper. Let's send you into a war zone armed only with a sky blue helmet and the hope that, deep down inside, we can all live together as one on a planet of lollipops and rainbows. While the rest of the world is walking around high as a kite on religion and local hallucinogens, the UN Peacekeepers are armed with popguns and pleas for reconciliation.
If it's all the same to you, I'd rather collect garbage.
And finally, how can any list of most dangerous jobs be complete without a mention of the Third Most Important Guy in al-Qeada? In the past four years, nine men have held that esteemed position. Eight are now dead. We can't seem to kill the top guy - Osama bin-Laden. We're having a bit of trouble pinning down the number two man in al-Qeada, Ayman al-Zawahiri. The number threes, however, have fallen one after another in a death rate that would measure far beyond anything on the government's statistical list. Since nine-eleven, nine men have been mentioned as the number three in line at bin-Laden's corporate hierarchy. Eight have been killed. That's more than 90,000 deaths for every 100,000 number threes on the job.
Thanks, Mr. Osama, but I'm having second thoughts about applying.
I think, given the possibilities, I'd rather be fishing.
pellucid \puh-LOO-sid\ adjective
*1 : admitting maximum passage of light without diffusion or distortion
2 : reflecting light evenly from all surfaces
3 : easy to understand
Example sentence:
The coastal waters were clean and pellucid, allowing us to easily identify the marine life on the ocean floor.
Did you know?
"Pellucid" ultimately derives from the Latin "lucēre" ("to shine"), which in turn contains the root "luc-" ("light"). "Pellucid" is formed from "per" ("through") plus "lucidus" ("lucid, clear"). "Pellucid" has many shining relatives in English. Among the offspring of "lucēre" are "translucent" (essentially, "clear enough to allow light to pass through"), "elucidate" ("to make clear, explain"), "lucent" ("luminous" or "clear"), and of course "lucid" itself (which can mean "shining," "mentally sound," or "easily understood"). Another related word is "Lucifer" (literally, "light-bearer"). Other relatives - such as "lackluster" ("lacking brightness"), "illustrate" (originally, "to make bright"), and "lustrous" ("shining" or "radiant") - trace from the related verb "lustrare" ("to brighten"). Clearly, "pellucid" is just one of a family of brilliant terms.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
incommensurable \in-kuh-MEN-suh-ruh-bul\ adjective
: not commensurable; broadly : lacking a basis of comparison in respect to a quality normally subject to comparison
Example sentence:
The two theories are incommensurable, making any attempt at comparison across disciplines ridiculous.
Did you know?
"Commensurable" means "having a common measure" or "corresponding in size, extent, amount, or degree." Its antonym "incommensurable" generally refers to things that are unlike and incompatible, sharing no common ground (as in the "incommensurable theories" of the example sentence), or to things that are very disproportionate, often to the point of defying comparison ("incommensurable crimes"). Both words entered English in the 1500s and were originally used (as they still can be) for numbers that have or don't have a common divisor. They came to English by way of Middle French and Late Latin, ultimately deriving from the Latin noun "mensura," meaning "measure." "Mensura" is also an ancestor of "commensurate" (meaning "coextensive" or "proportionate") and "incommensurate" ("disproportionate" or "insufficient"), which overlap in meaning with "commensurable" and "incommensurable" but are not exact synonyms.
foodie \FOO-dee\ noun
: a person having an avid interest in the latest food fads
Example sentence:
A serious foodie, Beryl reads cookbooks like novels and scours specialty shops in search of exotic ingredients.
Did you know?
"Foodie" is a relatively recent addition to our language (dating from the early 1980s), but it derives from a much older word, "food," which has been with us for as long as there has been anything that could be called English. "Food" can be traced back through Middle English to the Old English form "fōda," which is itself related to Old High German "fuotar," meaning "food" or "fodder," and Latin "panis," meaning "bread." "Panis" is the source for "empanada," a Spanish turnover with a sweet filling, "panatela," a type of cigar, "panettone," an Italian bread containing raisins and candied fruit, and "pantry," a room used for the storage of provisions.
sabot \sa-BOH\ noun
1 *a : a wooden shoe worn in various European countries b (1) : a strap across the instep in a shoe especially of the sandal type (2) : a shoe having a sabot strap
2 : a thrust-transmitting carrier that positions a missile in a gun barrel or launching tube and that prevents the escape of gas ahead of the missile
3 : a dealing box designed to hold several decks of playing cards
Example sentence:
"All her kind, at least in the countryside, wore... sabots, well past the century's end." (Eugen Weber, France, Fin de Siècle)
Did you know?
The term "sabot" may have first been introduced into English in a 1607 translation from French: "Wooden shoes," readers were informed, are "properly called sabots." The gun-related sense appeared in the mid-1800s with the invention of a wooden gizmo that kept gun shells from shifting in the gun barrel. Apparently, someone thought the device resembled a wooden shoe and named it "sabot" (with later generations of this device carrying on the name). Another kind of French sabot - a metal "shoe" used to secure rails to railway ties - is said to be the origin of the word "sabotage," from workers destroying the sabots during a French railway strike in the early 1900s. The word "sabot" is probably related to "savate," a Middle French word for an old shoe.
Once again, let us review: no bottled water on the plane.
This week the little Tri-State Airport down in Huntington, West Virginia, was shut down for more than nine hours after a Pakistani woman attempted to board a Charlotte-bound airplane while carrying two bottles of liquid. One was drinking water. The other was filled a face cleanser. For some reason, these two bottles tested positive for explosives residue (twice) and the woman, 28-year old Rima Qayyum, who is four months pregnant and lives in nearby Barboursville, West Virginia, was asked to please step aside.
Rima, dressed in traditional Islamic headcover, cooperated completely with authorities. She was, by all reports, polite and patient as the FBI and local authorities tested and retested her water and soap. Meanwhile, the terminal was evacuated and the more than 100 passengers headed for North Carolina were asked to be as patient as possible. It took nine hours to straighten the matter out. By the time Ms. Qayyum was found to be exactly what she is, a expectant mother headed for a connecting flight in Charlotte on her way home to see the family in Detroit, the national media had blown the story completely out of proportion, one report stating that Rima was a “Pakistani radical”.
The liquids in question were exactly as she described them - a bottle of water and a bottle of astringent for her skin. Something in the liquid or the plastic of the bottles themselves triggered a positive warning from the field tests. There was no other recourse for airport screeners than to alert the FBI and ask all customers to hang out at the Tri-State Airport, where there is no SkyMall, no Starbucks and no Borders Books to pass the time.
They did buy everyone pizza at Sbarro's.
The aftermath of this event is that Ms. Qayyum's mother, Mian, has reacted as any angry, protective mother would, telling the press that the airport incident was “…not only a false alarm, it was racial discrimination because there was nothing.” She added, “They should clear her name and apologize on national TV.”
I understand your anger, Mrs. Qayyum. Perhaps if I were of Pakistani origin, wore traditional Islamic garb and was stopped at the airport every time I went through the screening process, I would be mad as hell as well. Fortunately for me, Irish-Italian-Danish Americans from Pittsburgh did not plot to blow up trans-Atlantic airliners this month.
Pakistanis did.
Judging from her actions, your daughter is a saint. Four months pregnant, sitting in an airport in Southern West Virginia in the middle of a hot August day, stared at and immediately profiled as the being the cause of all the problems in the world, she kept her cool. Everyone contacted by reporters, those on hand who witnessed events, tell the same story: Rima is a nice woman. She just happened to miss the warnings about liquid carry-ons.
And the airport screeners? They did their jobs. When it looked as if this woman was completely innocent of any wrongdoing or evil plots, they did their jobs. They tested her water bottle again. And it came up “positive” for explosive materials. Again.
You're correct to protect your kid. You're absolutely right to call it as you see it: racial profiling. That's exactly what it was. And until white yuppies from Indiana start trying to blow up airplanes, it will continue to be so. If you want to blame someone for the situation your daughter found herself, point your scorn at the more than 20 would-be killers who were arrested last week. Most of them, like your daughter, were in their mid-twenties and Pakistani.
Being “pulled aside” and asked impolite and personal questions about your background, belongings and future plans while already undergoing that most grating of experiences, air travel, can be enough to make someone crazy with anger. Believe me. I know. Back in the day when I had hair down to my waist and was often boarding airplanes while carrying guitar cases or electronic equipment, I was profiled so often that it became routine. After a while my wife and I would factor in the time we'd undoubtedly spend in the little room off to the side of the screeners, explaining who I was, where I was headed and who I was meeting when I got to my destination. I have been searched more than once, questioned countless times and yes, berated when my answers did not come quickly and with politeness. It stunk and all happened long before the world became a much more dangerous place in which to fly. I can only imagine what it would be like now, wearing a turban, sweating and fidgety, rushing to make my connecting flight.
I will not offer an apology to either of the Mrs. Qayyums, but I can offer some advice:
Be proud to be Pakistani.
Be proud to be an American.
Most of all, be understanding of the situation you now find yourself. Your nationality and heritage not only define who you are - unfortunately, in this, the twenty-first century, they also make you a suspect.
numismatic \noo-miz-MAT-ik\ adjective
*1 : of or relating to the study or collection of coins, tokens, and money
2 : of or relating to currency : monetary
Example sentence:
Jason was disappointed to learn that the 1936 buffalo nickel he owned had virtually no numismatic value.
Did you know?
The first metal coins are believed to have been used as currency by the Lydians, a people of Asia Minor, during the 7th century BC, and it is likely that folks began collecting coins not long after that. The name that we give to the collection of coins today is "numismatics," a word that also encompasses the collection of paper money and of medals. The noun "numismatics" and the adjective "numismatic" came to English (via French "numismatique") from Latin and Greek "nomisma," meaning "coin." "Nomisma" in turn derives from the Greek verb "nomizein" ("to use") and ultimately from the noun "nomos" ("custom" or "usage"). From these roots we also get "numismatist," referring to a person who collects coins, medals, or paper money.
bedizen \bih-DYE-zen\ verb
: to dress or adorn gaudily
Example sentence:
"Adorned by minarets and spires and bedizened by more than a million lights, Coney Island embodied what has been called the 'architecture of exhilaration.'" (Blaine Harden, New York Times, August 28, 1999)
Did you know?
"Bedizen" doesn't have the flashy history you might expect - its roots lie in the rather quiet art of spinning thread. In times past, the spinning process began with the placement of fibers (such as flax) on an implement called a "distaff"; the fibers were then drawn out from the distaff and twisted into thread. "Bedizen" descends from the verb "disen," which meant "to dress a distaff with flax" and which came to English by way of Middle Dutch. The spelling of "disen" eventually became "dizen," and its meaning expanded to cover the "dressing up" of things other than distaffs. In the mid-17th century, English speakers began using "bedizen" with the same meaning.
obloquy \AH-bluh-kwee\ noun
*1 : a strongly condemnatory utterance : abusive language
2 : the condition of one that is discredited : bad repute
Example sentence:
The manager walked quickly back to the dugout as insults and obloquy rained down from the stands.
Did you know?
English speakers can choose from several synonyms to name a tongue-lashing. "Abuse" is a good general term that usually stresses the anger of the speaker and the harshness of the language, as in "scathing verbal abuse." "Vituperation" often specifies fluent, sustained abuse; "a torrent of vituperation" is a typical use of this term. "Invective" implies vehemence comparable to "vituperation," but may suggest greater verbal and rhetorical skill; it may also apply especially to a public denunciation, as in "blistering political invective." "Obloquy," which comes from the Late Latin "ob-" (meaning "against") plus "loqui" (meaning "to speak"), suggests defamation and consequent shame and disgrace; a typical example of its use would be "subjected to obloquy and derision."
mala fide \mal-uh-FYE-dee\ adverb or adjective
: with or in bad faith
Example sentence:
The judge concluded that the company had acted mala fide in concealing the information.
Did you know?
You may be familiar with the more commonly used "bona fide" (\BOH-nuh-fyde\), which can mean "made in good faith" (as in "a bona fide agreement") or "genuine or real" ("a bona fide miracle"). Not surprisingly, in Latin "bona fide" means "in good faith" and "mala fide" means "in bad faith." These days "mala fide," which dates from the mid-16th century, tends to turn up primarily in legal contexts.
kludge \KLOOJ\ noun
: a system and especially a computer system made up of poorly matched components
Example sentence:
"The original satellite contrivance was the asynchronous satellite downlink with a phone connection uplink. This was doomed to fail because it was a kludge." (John C. Dvorak, Boardwatch Magazine, February 2002)
Did you know?
The first recorded use of the word "kludge" is attributed to Jackson W. Granholm, who defined the word in a 1962 issue of the magazine Datamation as: "an ill-assorted collection of poorly-matching parts, forming a distressing whole." He further explained that it was derived from the German word "klug," meaning "smart" or "witty." Why Granholm included a "d" in his spelling is not known. What we do know is that speakers of American English have agreed to keep it silent, making the vowel pronunciation of "kludge" reflect the pronunciation of German "klug" (\KLOOK\). We can also tell you that not everyone agrees with Granholm on the "d" matter: the spelling "kluge" is also popularly used.
noisome \NOY-sum\ adjective
*1 : noxious, harmful
2 a : offensive to the senses and especially to the sense of smell b : highly obnoxious or objectionable
Example sentence:
"The streets were narrow and very dirty, the air smoky and noisome, the people mostly wretched." ( Ken Follett, The Man from St. Petersburg)
Did you know?
Consider the two following sentences: "The babysitter tried to quiet the noisome children." "My son works at a fish market, and his clothes bring a noisome stench into the house when he comes home." Which sentence uses "noisome" correctly? If you picked the second one, you chose correctly. Though "noisome" sounds like it might be a synonym of "noisy," it's not. Something noisome is disgusting, like that fishy stench, or harmful, the way toxic fumes or waste can be. "Noisome" does not come from "noise," but from the Middle English word "noysome," which has the same meaning as "noisome." The "noy" of "noysome" means "annoyance," and comes from Anglo-French "anui," which also means "annoyance."
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence."