Landy Family Picnic 2006
"portentous \por-TEN-tuss\ adjective
1 : of, relating to, or constituting a portent
2 : eliciting amazement or wonder : prodigious
3 *a : being a grave or serious matter b : self-consciously solemn or important : pompous c : ponderously excessive
Example sentence:
Saving any species from extinction is a portentous matter, but the Save-the-Owl folks could garner more support with a lighter approach.
Did you know?
It's easy to see the "portent" in "portentous," which comes to us from the Latin adjective "portentosus," itself the offspring of the noun "portentum," meaning "portent" or "omen." And indeed, the first uses of "portentous" in the mid-1500s did refer to omens. The second sense of "portentous," describing that which is extremely impressive, also developed in the 1500s. Centuries later, an editor working on the second edition of Webster's New International Dictionary in the 1930s added a third definition, "grave, solemn, significant," which has since been refined to include the suggestion of a pompous attitude. We are not sure just when the third sense arose, but our evidence goes back to the beginning of the century. And these days, it's the sense we most often use.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
piquant \PEE-kunt\ adjective
1 : agreeably stimulating to the palate; especially : spicy
*2 : engagingly provocative; also : having a lively arch charm
Example sentence:
Reggie's piquant commentary always makes for interesting listening, though sometimes his remarks can go too far.
Did you know?
Piquant flavors "sting" the tongue and piquant words "prick" the intellect, arousing interest. These varying senses reflect the etymology of the word "piquant," which first appeared in English in the 17th century and which derives from the Middle French verb "piquer," meaning "to sting" or "to prick." Though first used to describe foods with spicy flavors, the word is now often used to describe things that are spicy in other ways, such as engaging conversation. Have we piqued your curiosity about another "piquer" offspring? If you've already guessed that the verb "pique," meaning "to offend" or "to arouse by provocation," comes from "piquer," too, you've got a sharp mind.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
ambivalent \am-BIV-uh-lunt\ adjective
*1 : simultaneously holding contradictory attitudes or feelings (as attraction and repulsion) toward someone or something
2 a : continually fluctuating (as between one thing and its opposite) b : uncertain as to which approach to follow
Example sentence:
I love learning about the solar system, but I'm ambivalent about paying to take an astronomy course.
Did you know?
The words "ambivalent" and "ambivalence" entered English during the early 20th century in the field of psychology. They came to us through the International Scientific Vocabulary, a set of words common to men and women of science who speak different languages. The prefix "ambi-" means "both," and the "-valent" and "-valence" parts ultimately derive from the Latin verb "valēre," meaning "to be strong." Not surprisingly, an ambivalent person is someone who has strong feelings on more than one side of a question or issue.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
dithyramb \DITH-ih-ram\ noun
1 : a usually short poem in an inspired wild irregular strain
*2 : a statement or writing in an exalted or enthusiastic vein
Example sentence:
"Among the items offered was the brand of peanut butter I especially relish..., with my published dithyramb to it alongside." (William F. Buckley Jr., The New Yorker, February 9, 1987)
Did you know?
In ancient Greece, the wine god Dionysus (or Bacchus) was feted several times throughout the year. Processions, feasts, dances, and dramatic performances, accompanied by poems recited or sung in the god's honor, were all part of the revelry. Not too surprisingly, the poems tended to be wild, irregular, and dissonant. We know that the Greeks used "dithyrambos" as the word for a poem in honor of Dionysus, but beyond that the origin of the word is unknown. The ancient Greeks also had an adjective, "dithyrambikos," which gave us our adjective "dithyrambic," meaning "pertaining to or resembling a dithyramb."
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
mogul \MOH-gul\ noun
1 capitalized : an Indian Muslim of or descended from one of several conquering groups of Mongol, Turkish, and Persian origin; especially : Great Mogul
*2 : a great personage : magnate
Example sentence:
The media mogul owned such a large number of newspapers and television stations across the country that his influence on political discourse could not be denied.
Did you know?
Started by Bābur, a descendant of Genghis Khan, the Muslim Mogul dynasty ruled much of India from the early 16th century to the mid-18th century. The Moguls were known for their talented and powerful rulers (called "Great Moguls"), so it's no surprise that in English the word "mogul" came to denote a powerful person, as in our frequent references to "movie moguls," "industry moguls," and the like. Skiers might wonder if such power moguls have anything to do with the name they use for a bump in a ski run, but that hilly homonym has nothing to do with Asian Mogul dynasties. We picked up the skier's "mogul" from a German dialect root that is probably related to the Viennese "mugl," meaning "small hill."
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
I know that you're robbing me. But, couldn't you at least be entertaining about it?
Depending on a number of factors including your location and your fear of fellow human beings, chances are likely that you'll get hit up for a donation of some sort today. The pitch might come from the supposedly homeless person you pass on the Clemente Bridge, from the worker bee in your office who is selling candy bars so that her child's elementary school orchestra can buy a new contrabassoon or from the televised ad for starving fly-infested children who need the word of Jesus and fifteen of your cents a day to survive. This month I've been asked to donate to the United Way, my local volunteer fire fighter brigade, the American Cancer Society and for a fund that promises to buy a life-saving operation for a dying dog.
Beggars are everywhere, having now infiltrated the world wide web, both through websites and my email system. If you surf frequently you've no doubt come across a website or two that blatantly asks for loose change. In addition most of us have also received the scam emails from foreign dignitaries who need not our money, but merely our checking account numbers and passwords to gain access to our online banking. They ask only to “rent” our accounts for a few days. In return, they promise to make us rich.
You can't fool me more than three or four times a month.
I know when you're begging.
I nearly always spare loose change for the disabled and those who give their time and effort for no compensation like volunteer firefighters, e.m.t.'s and food banks. But when it's large, corporate beggars I tend to stand back and contemplate a bit. The way I see it, if you can afford television and magazine advertising budgets, compensated boards of directors and celebrity spokespeople, you may not be getting as much of my money to the needy as you suggest.
Oh.
And I also like funny people.
It goes against everything I believe and have already stated, but when somebody comes up with a clever and entertaining way to beg I will usually fork over some cash. In the old days, during the Great Depression and afterwards, “gypsies” would hit city dwellers for loose change with a scam involving a button box and a monkey. The monkey would dance as the “organ grinder” played his button box. After a crowd gathered, the monkey, armed with a tin cup, would work his way around, picking up loose change from suckers.
The “Wizard of Oz” ruined all that.
I realize there's little difference between creative types and the guy who stands in shoes more expensive than mine while shaking a Burger King cup, invoking the Lord's name and demanding loose change for his terrible plight. They're both scams, all right. For some reason, though, a little entertainment goes a long way.
This holds true for the internet as well. While I'll immediately send any message from the “Grand Chancellor of Namibia” telling me of his plight to free up frozen assets in his home country to the trash file, I will give a little of my time to anyone whose pitch is a little more energetic and creative.
Here's one: this week I surfed across a website called “Jimmy's Donkey Fund” which asks the web reader to please donate what moneys they can so that a guy and his bride-to-be can have donkeys serve cocktails at their Mexican wedding reception. The pitch (printed under a fine photograph of a dancing donkey) is, “Next May I am getting married in Riviera Maya, Mexico. The resort where we chose to get married has a package where you can have a “Mexican Donkey Bar Cocktail Party.” In short, they put saddlebags on donkeys and fill the bags with ice, beer, wine, and liquor. The donkeys then walk around with big sombreros on, and you can grab a drink right out of the saddlebag. When my fiancée told me this, my reaction was, “Dear lord, I MUST have donkeys at my reception!!!” Well, it turns out that it just isn't in our budget. So after telling my friends that I would have donkeys at my reception, I had to break the very sad news that this just wasn't going to happen. As it turns out, we were at a bar when I broke the news, and then an idea hit me. I walked up to a complete stranger and without any explanation I asked him, “Would you give me a dollar so I can have donkeys at my reception?” His response was, “Hell yes!” Well, I decided to further my research and I asked another complete stranger only to receive the exact same response. Then I realized what I needed to do, make this website. I figured collecting cash at bars was unreasonable, because I would end up spending the cash at the bar, not saving it for my precious donkeys. But a Paypal account would allow me to save the money for its intended use. So I ask you now, “Would you give me a dollar so I can have donkeys at my reception?”
The website also includes an “F.A.Q.” section. The first question listed is “Are you an idiot?” to which our intrepid beggar answers, “Absolutely. Why else would I want donkeys at my reception?” He then goes on to promise to post photos of the donkeys if all goes well, meaning, of course, if we all give this fool a dollar.
Of course I did.
The United Way might think about this whole “donkey pitch”.
And now if you'll excuse me, I've got to go out to the coop to see if I can get one of our hens to learn the basics of drink serving. If so, we're heading right down to Carson Street.
Tell me I couldn't make some cash on a Friday night.
discomfit \diss-KUM-fit\ verb
1 : to frustrate the plans of : thwart
*2 : to put into a state of perplexity and embarrassment : disconcert
Example sentence:
The governor appeared to be discomfited by the reporter's question, and he struggled for a way to change the subject.
Did you know?
Disconcerted by "discomfit" and "discomfort"? Here's a little usage history that might help. Several usage commentators have, in the past, tried to convince their readers that "discomfit" means "to rout" or "to completely defeat" and not "to discomfort, embarrass, or make uneasy." In its earliest uses "discomfit" did in fact mean "to defeat in battle," but that sense is now rare, and the extended sense, "to thwart," is also uncommon. Most of the recent commentaries agree that the sense "to discomfort or disconcert" has become thoroughly established and is the most prevalent meaning of the word. There is one major difference between "discomfit" and "discomfort," though - "discomfit" is used almost exclusively as a verb, while "discomfort" is much more commonly used as a noun than a verb.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
saccade \sak-KAHD\ noun
: a small rapid jerky movement of the eye especially as it jumps from fixation on one point to another (as in reading)
Example sentence:
In reading, the eyes scan the text in a series of saccades and form what can be thought of as still photographs processed by the brain.
Did you know?
"Saccade" is a French word meaning "twitch" or "jerk." It galloped into English in the early 18th century as a term used in horseback riding for a quick check using the reins. (Today, this meaning is too specialized for entry in Merriam-Webster's Collegiate® Dictionary, but it is stabled in Webster's Third New International Dictionary, Unabridged.) In 1879, French ophthalmologist Emile Javal observed that a reader's eyes make a series of short jumps, which he referred to in French as saccades. It wasn't until 1938, however, when experimental psychologist Robert Woodworth wrote about the pioneering Javal and his saccades, that the ocular use of the word was seen in an English publication.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
thank-you-ma'am \THANK-yoo-mam\ noun
: a bump or depression in a road; especially : a ridge or hollow made across a road on a hillside to cause water to run off
Example sentence:
"That night on the way home, thinking of his pleasant visit, he was suddenly shaken out of his tranquility ... when his touring car hit a 'thank-you-ma'am' in the unpaved road." (Hugh Manchester, Centre Daily Times [State College, PA], August 22, 2000)
Did you know?
"Thank-you-ma'am" might seem like an odd name for a bump in the road, but the expression makes a little more sense if you imagine the motion your head would make as you drove over such an obstacle. Most likely, the jarring would make you nod involuntarily. Now think of the nodding gesture you make when you're thanking someone or acknowledging a favor. The "thank-you-ma'am" road bump is believed to have received its name when someone noted the similarity of those two head bobbing motions. It's a colloquialism particular to American English, and its earliest printed use is found in Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's 1849 prose piece, Kavanagh: "We went like the wind over the hollows in the snow; - the driver called them 'thank-you-ma'ams,' because they make every body bow."
tortuous \TOR-chuh-wus\ adjective
*1 : marked by repeated twists, bends, or turns : winding
2 a : marked by devious or indirect tactics : crooked, tricky b : circuitous, involved
Example sentence:
The road over the mountains was long and dangerously tortuous.
Did you know?
Be careful not to confuse "tortuous" with "torturous." These two words are relatives, and both ultimately come from the Latin verb "torquēre," which means "to twist," "to wind," or "to wrench," but "tortuous" means "winding" or "crooked," whereas "torturous" means "painfully unpleasant." Something "tortuous" (such as a twisting mountain road) might also be "torturous" (if, for example, you have to ride up that road on a bicycle!), but that doesn't make these words synonyms. The twists and turns that mark a tortuous thing can be literal ("a tortuous path" or "a tortuous river") or figurative ("a tortuous argument" or "a tortuous explanation"), but you should consider choosing a different descriptive term if no implication of winding or crookedness is present.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
dunnage \DUN-ij\ noun
*1 : loose materials used to support and protect cargo in a ship's hold; also : padding in a shipping container
2 : baggage
Example sentence:
The container and dunnage add almost two more pounds to the total shipping weight of the items we're sending.
Did you know?
Here's a little quiz for word history buffs. Which of the following statements is true?
a) "Dunnage" derives from the Low German word "dünne twige," meaning "brushwood."
b) "Dunnage" derives from "Dunlop," the name of a famous cheese-making town in Scotland.
c) Etymologists don't know the exact origin of "dunnage."
You've got the goods if you guessed "c." Etymologists have pointed out the similarity of "dunnage" and "dünne twige," but no one has ever proven the two are related. Dunlop lent its name to the cheese it's so famous for, but neither the town nor the cheese has any connection to "dunnage." Truth be told, though "dunnage" has been with us since the 15th century, its etymological history remains a mystery.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
instauration \in-stor-RAY-shun\ noun
*1 : restoration after decay, lapse, or dilapidation
2 : an act of instituting or establishing something
Example sentence:
"Once, humanity dreamed of the great instauration - a rebirth of ancient wisdom that would compel us into a New Age...." (Knute Berger, Seattle Weekly, December 14, 2005)
Did you know?
"Instauration" first appeared in English in the early 17th century, a product of the Latin verb "instaurare," meaning "to renew or restore." This same source gave us our verb "store," by way of Middle English and Anglo-French. Less than 20 years after "instauration" broke into English, the philosopher Francis Bacon began writing his Instauratio Magna, which translates to The Great Instauration. This uncompleted collection of works, which was written in Latin, calls for a restoration to a state of paradise on earth, but one in which mankind is enlightened by knowledge and truth.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
consequential \kahn-suh-KWEN-shul\ adjective
1 : of the nature of a secondary result : indirect
2 : following as a result or effect : consequent
*3 : having significant consequences : important
Example sentence:
Who would have thought stepping off the elevator on the wrong floor that day would be such a consequential moment in Wayne's life?
Did you know?
"Consequential" dates from the 17th century and can be traced back to the Latin verb "consequi," meaning "to follow along." "Consequi," in turn, combines the prefix "con-," meaning "through" or "with," and "sequi," meaning "to follow." The English words "sequel," "second," and "suitor" are among the offspring of "sequi." With the publication of Henry Fielding's 1728 comedy Love in Several Masques, "consequential," which until that point had been used primarily in the context of results, acquired the meaning "important." Evidence for this usage declined temporarily in the 19th century, causing its acceptability to be questioned by such commentators as H. W. Fowler; it resurfaced in the 20th century, however, and is now considered standard.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
pariah \puh-RYE-uh\ noun
1 : a member of a low caste of southern India
*2 : one that is despised or rejected : outcast
Example sentence:
Sasha became a pariah among the experts in her field after publishing a highly inflammatory article.
Did you know?
"Pariah" comes from Tamil, the language spoken in Tamil Nadu, a state of India, and in parts of Sri Lanka. The predecessor of "pariah" is the Tamil word "paraiyan," which literally means "drummer." "Paraiyan" is also the name of an ancient tribal group whose members are included in the Untouchables, or Harijans, the lowest caste in India. Consisting mostly of servants and laborers, members of this tribal group traditionally beat their drums at festivals but were excluded from religion processions. "Pariah" was originally the English rendering of the name of that specific group. It was eventually extended to denote any member of the lowest Hindu caste, and finally used more broadly as a synonym of "outcast."
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
recumbent \rih-KUM-bunt\ adjective
*1 a : suggestive of repose : leaning, resting b : lying down
2 : representing a person lying down
Example sentence:
When Bert glanced at his father's recumbent form in the armchair, he immediately thought that he could use a good nap himself.
Did you know?
If you're ready to take your vocabulary lying down, you'll want to be familiar with the synonyms "recumbent," "prone," "supine," and "prostrate," all of which mean "lying down." "Recumbent," which derives from the Latin prefix "re-" and the verb "cumbere," meaning "to lie down," focuses on the posture or position native to sleeping or resting. "Prone" describes someone who is lying facedown, as, for example, in doing push-ups. "Supine" flips it over, suggesting the position of someone lying inert on the back, while "prostrate" implies a full-scale physical collapse or submission, regardless of the exact position of the defeated body. "Recumbent," dating from 1705, is the newest of the four words; the others all entered English before the 16th century.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
skylark \SKYE-lark\ verb
1 : to run up and down the rigging of a ship in sport
*2 : frolic, sport
Example sentence:
As the couple was walking past the playground, they stopped and watched the happy children laugh and skylark and thought about how they would soon be having a child.
Did you know?
As far as we know, people were skylarking at sea before they were larking on land. "Skylarking" was originally a term used by seamen for their scampering about on the rigging of ships. The first known use of the word in print is from 1809, though the term was part of the sailor's vernacular before that. "Lark," meaning "to engage in harmless fun or mischief," didn?t get jotted down until 1813. Whether or not the meanings of these words came about from the song and/or behavior of birds is uncertain. One theory of the verb "lark" is that it began as a misinterpretation of the verb "lake," which in British dialect means "to play or frolic."
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
Dear Johnny Wonder: How do a thermos know?
It's been a horrible week for Dr. Luis von Ahn, the 26-year old Computer Science professor at Carnegie-Mellon University. First, the troublemakers at Popular Science Magazine named him one of their annual “Brilliant 10”. As if that wasn't terrible enough, the nightmare continued as Dr. von Ahn was informed that he had been awarded a MacArthur Fellowship. There were 25 MacArthur Fellows named this year. Each of them has been handed $500,000 to, according to the foundation, “continue to reflect, explore and create” with no strings attached.
Tell me how bad that would suck.
Luis is a genius. You can tell that right away when you Google him. Here's how one published article described what Dr. von Ahn does each day: he “works at the intersection of cryptography, artificial intelligence and natural intelligence to address problems of profound theoretical and practical importance”.
Hey!
Me, too!
Does he get to play Led Zeppelin requests?
The most amazing thing about Dr. von Ahn being awarded a MacArthur Fellowship is not that the man lives and works in Pittsburgh. As a city, we're chock full of geniuses. Between CMU and the medical community, the Steel City is more than pulling our own weight in brainiacs. What is most astounding to me is that someone, in this case something called the MacArthur Foundation, hands out $500,000 checks to a select number of deep thinkers, asking only in return that they continue to think deep thoughts. Way to go, Scarecrow. The best part of it all is that, chances are, after the photo ops and accompanying newspaper articles, nobody from MacArthur is going to check up on what Luis did with the cash.
I'm thinking about a party.
With a lot of fun games and rides.
And those little pastries.
I could go into greater detail about how the MacArthur Foundation works, how they come up with their annual list of smart people who need pocket money and how Dr. von Ahn qualified to be the first such person in Carnegie-Mellon's long and ivy-covered history, but two things stop me from doing so. The first is the fact that two sentences into reading any article I've found about the good doctor, I'm drooling and snoring, face down on the computer keyboard. Secondly, and most important, I'm pretty busy these days cobbling together my own presentation for the MacArthurs.
Rpresentatives form the Foundation are coming to town to award Luis his check. From what I've been able to find in my research of major online gambling and pornography sites that have links to news headlines, I've got about a month to come up with something really smart and impressive to show them. I'm sure that once duly impressed they will hand me a check as well.
I'm not pretending to be in the same league as the aforementioned CMU professor. After all, I've never even bought a single issue of Popular Science, much less having been featured as one of their “Brilliant 10” (I am, however, willing to buy a subscription if it impresses the MacArthurs). Nobody can hope to rocket from watching reruns of Jackass to working “at the intersection of cryptography, artificial intelligence and natural intelligence to address problems of profound theoretical and practical importance” in a month. That's why I don't expect to be awarded the full half a million, as the good doctor has been handed.
A couple of grand would be nice, though.
The MacArthur Foundation's Fellowships are aimed at geniuses who are working with concepts that can't be described in simple terms. But what about the rest of us? Shouldn't regular, average, terminally dull people be awarded with some cash money if we increase our own knowledge? The theory I'm thinking of submitting to the visiting MacArthurs is based on some work I've been doing with a potato gun.
I call it “a study of combustion vegetable projectile using hair spray accelerator”. The way I see it, if the idea of a cash-award fellowship is to promote continued progress in your chosen field by freeing you of monetary restraints and allowing the awarded to “continue to reflect, create and explore” with no strings attached, then I'm your man.
Just don't call me a genius.
Please.
Once you've been handed that label, like the poor, unfortunate CMU professor, you're done. Not a Thanksgiving will roll by without you being the one chosen to figure out how to put the leaf in the good table. Nary a Christmas will arrive absent of your responsibility for building the perfect bicycle. “Hey, Mr. Genius,” the wife will call from afar. “Does it take a rocket scientist to remember our rule about the toilet seat, or should I offer you a Fellowship to continue your studies?”
I feel badly for the unfortunately bright and now honored man. I wouldn't trade places with him for a moment, unless that moment is the one when he cashes that check.
Other than that instant, I am happy to remain one of the regular, average and terminally dull who are trying to better themselves by straying past the comic section and sports pages. Would a couple of grand for a guy such as me be such a bad example? Come on, MacArthur people? What about the rest of us?
If possible, I'd like to show you my potato gun.
Job's comforter \JOHBZ-KUM-fer-ter\ noun
: a person who discourages or depresses while seemingly giving comfort and consolation
Example sentence:
When Tracey's second interview didn't go well, more than one Job's comforter remarked that she probably would have hated the job anyway.
Did you know?
Poor Job. He's the biblical character who endures extraordinary afflictions in a test of his piety. He loses his possessions, his children, and his health. And then, to make matters worse, three friends show up to "comfort" him. These friends turn out to be no comfort at all. Instead, they say that the things that have been happening to him happen to all sinners - and point out a number of his faults. In the mid-18th century, English speakers began using the phrase "Job's comforter" for anyone who offers similarly unhelpful consolation.
savvy \SAV-ee\ verb
: understand
Example sentence:
Although I savvied little Spanish, I could hear the urgency in the woman's voice and immediately sought a translator.
Did you know?
You may be familiar with the noun "savvy," meaning "practical know-how" (as in "he has political savvy"), and the adjective use (as in "a savvy investor"). And if you've seen the blockbuster movie Pirates of the Caribbean, you also know that the verb is often used as an informal, one-word question meaning "Do you understand?" (as in "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. Savvy?"). But Jack Sparrow (i.e., Johnny Depp) didn't invent the term. Both the noun and the verb came into use around 1785. "Savvy" is based on the Portuguese term "sabe," meaning "he knows," which itself is from Latin "sapere," meaning "to be wise." Creole speakers interpreted the Portuguese term as "sabi" and began using it as one would "know." Eventually, the Creole's "sabi" evolved into today's word.
orotund \OR-uh-tund\ adjective
1 : marked by fullness, strength, and clarity of sound : sonorous
*2 : pompous, bombastic
Example sentence:
Josh cleared his throat dramatically, then did a dead-on impression of the professor's orotund, patronizing speech.
Did you know?
The Latin roots of "orotund" are related to two more common English words - "oral" and "rotund." Latin "or-" means "mouth," and "rotundus" means "round" or "circular." The Roman poet Horace joined forms of those Latin terms to create the phrase "ore rotundo," literally meaning "with round mouth," and figuratively meaning "with well-turned speech." "Ore rotundo" was modified to "orotund" and adopted into English in the late 18th century. It can indicate either strength of delivery or inflated wording.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
hinterland \HIN-ter-land\ noun
1 : a region lying inland from a coast
2 a : a region remote from urban areas *b : a region lying beyond major metropolitan or cultural centers
Example sentence:
Ty and Saja spent a few days in the capital before setting off for the hinterland.
Did you know?
When you're dealing with geography, it helps to know your hinterland from your umland. In 1888, geographer George Chisholm borrowed the German word "Hinterland" (literally, "land in back of") and applied it specifically to the region just inland from a port or coastal settlement. (Chisholm spelled the word "hinderland," but English-speakers eventually settled on "hinterland.") Early in the 20th century, another geographer adopted the German "Umland" ("land around") to refer to the territory around an inland town. What "hinterland" and "umland" have in common is a reference to a region economically tied to a nearby city. But nowadays "hinterland" has a less technical use as well; it's used for land that's simply out in the sticks.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
confrere \KAHN-frair\ noun
: colleague, comrade
Example sentence:
Although Sam is a gifted poet in his own right, he's most often recognized as the confrere of a much more famous author.
Did you know?
"Confrere" arrived in English from Anglo-French in the 15th century, and ultimately derives from the Medieval Latin "confrater," meaning "brother" or "fellow." ("Frater," the root of this term, shares an ancient ancestor with our word "brother.") English speakers also began using another descendant of "confrater" in the 15th century: "confraternity," meaning "a society devoted to a religious or charitable cause." In the past, "confrere" was often used specifically of a fellow member of a confraternity," but these days it is used more generally.
Hi, I'm Willie Nelson and I'd like to introduce you to a very natural product I've been using most of my life.
Each and every month I pay a small fortune to watch TV. In return I am given access to a menagerie of incredibly entertainmenting and educational programming, along with a lot of crap I would never give a penny for if it wasn't included as “part of the package”. It's sort of like this station. To get you to listen, they give you a couple of really great shows, but in addition, you have to listen to me.
Life's a bitch, ain't it?
A man who never threw anything away and a woman who added water to ketchup to get every last drop from the bottle raised me. I was taught from a very young age that if you paid for a sub sandwich that came with anchovies, you ate the anchovies even if you hated the taste because, by God, you paid for ‘em, didn't you?
Perhaps that's why I've watched every channel that came with my satellite dish. I paid for ‘em, didn't I? I've seen them all, some of them just once, some of them just momentarily, just to prove they're there and in full working order. I've no reason to return to SkyAngel, the Christian Satellite Network, although I've seen it. None of the eleven home shopping channels will be seen again. Likewise, I won't be going back to catch up on what they're showing on CCTV, the Chinese station. I can't speak enough Spanish to follow what's on the four Spanish-language channels, although most of the time, from what I've been able to witness, it has to do with somebody cheating on their lover with a waitress. We have the Brigham Young Channel, a Mormon backed religious talk station. There's DIY Television, which stands for “do it yourself”. It shows people some useful projects they could be working on if they weren't wasting time watching TV.
The other night I was checking in with RFDTV, “Rural America's Channel”, which usually airs a lot of shows about horses and cows and the people who touch them. That particular night they were not featuring farm animals, but 1960's country singers. It was a show called “The Wilburn Brothers”, a very, very low budget music-variety mess apparently taped in Nashville somewhere before the age of enlightenment, which featured a pair of bad Everly knockoffs and their guests, Dottie West, Loretta Lynn and some guy in rainbow suspenders. Just as I was about to move on to the Food Channel to check in on what Emeril was blamming, the less inbred of the Wilburns (I believe it was Teddy) announced that they would be pausing for a word from their sponsors.
And suddenly there was Willie Nelson.
Willie, in a spot produced not in the late 1960's, but sometime recently, spoke to RFDTV viewers from his tour bus, his image preserved for posterity by a Christmas gift HandyCam, somewhere on the road.
Again.
The ad was for a gas station, a single gas station, “Carl's Corner Truckstop”, located in central Texas, near a town called Abbott. Willie invited us all to drop by the next time we're in central Texas. And while at Carl's, he pleaded, we should fill up on a tank of BioWillie. BioWillie is a bio-diesel fuel made from corn. It's the farmer's friend, according to Mr. Nelson. He explained this as we the viewers watched him pump some of this mixture into a school bus. It not only helps out the country's farm community, said Willie, but it's a great way to get us all off this “nasty” dependence on foreign oil.
Leave it to Willie to know a nasty dependence when he sees one.
The question, as I saw it, was how much high-test gasoline I would burn driving to somewhere in the middle of Texas to buy a tank of Willie's corn moonshine go juice? Not to worry, calmed the red-headed stranger. If my “local service station doesn't currently carry BioWillie”, all I needed to do was “ask”.
They looked at me like I was crazy down at the 7-Eleven. Try to get a woman who has studied English as a second language to understand the concept of BioWillie.
All this viewing of Willie came at a precipitous time. As you no doubt have heard by now, he was busted yet again for possession of marijuana (along with some trippin' mushrooms) somewhere in the bayou country of Louisiana the other day. They were cruisin' on the bio in the bayou. Willie and his traveling companions (possibly on board the very same tour bus I saw in the commercial) were pulled over by state troopers. Although the gang was carrying more than a pound of pot between them (along with those shrooms), they were given a mere misdemeanor and a warning.
Must be the power of BioWillie.
He's all natural.
At the end of the commercial, Willie politely thanked us for our time and support (he's always very kind). The spot closed with a shot of the tour bus pulling back onto the road as we got a look at the strange airbrushed artwork that takes up the entire rear end. It's a painting of an eagle and a man's face (Willie's, I'm guessing) that are melded together to give us a sort of “Willie, the Eagle-Eyed Protector of Streams, Mountains and America” feeling.
You know what I thought when I saw it?
My parents would have been proud.
Willie and the boys didn't waste those mushrooms they bought.
It's interesting that a single truckstop in the middle of nowhere can now reach millions of people world wide through satellite TV advertising, as long as they are connected to a big name country act and are willing to promote his foray into the fuel market. Of course, there is no guarantee that Carl from Carl's Corner Truckstop is actually reaching millions. He is, after all, way up on RFDTV, channel 9027 on my box.
You heard me right.
Nine thousand.
Twenty-seven.
The channels at that end of the dial are the anchovies of my TV sub sandwich, but I paid for ‘em, so, by God, I'm going to watch ‘em. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get to the computer and hit MapQuest up for directions to Abbott, Texas. I need me some of what Willie's got.
And some bio-diesel would be nice as well.
mimesis \muh-MEE-sis\ noun
: imitation, mimicry
Example sentence:
Late in her career, the painter became less interested in mimesis and began to experiment in styles of abstraction.
Did you know?
"Mimesis" is a term with an undeniably classical pedigree. Originally a Greek word, it has been used in aesthetic or artistic theory to refer to the attempt to imitate or reproduce reality since Plato and Aristotle. "Mimesis" is derived from the Greek verb "mimeisthai," which means "to imitate" and which itself comes from "mimos," meaning "mime." The English word "mime" also descends from "mimos," as do "mimic" and "mimicry." And what about "mimeograph," the name of the duplicating machine that preceded the photocopier? We can't be absolutely certain what the folks at the A. B. Dick Company had in mind when they came up with "Mimeograph" (a trademark name that has since expired), but influence from "mimos" and its descendants certainly seems probable.
picaresque \pik-uh-RESK\ adjective
: of or relating to rogues or rascals; also : of, relating to, suggesting, or being a type of fiction dealing with the episodic adventures of a usually roguish protagonist
Example sentence:
Kirk's first novel was a picaresque tale of a young orphan boy coping with life in the big city.
Did you know?
"Picaresque" derives from Spanish "picaresco," which means "of or relating to a picaro." What is a picaro? This word, which also derives from Spanish, means "rogue" or "bohemian." "Picaro" describes a type of character that has long been a popular subject for fictional narrative. Typically, the picaresque novel centers around a wandering individual of low standing who happens into a series of adventures among people of various higher classes, often relying on his wits and a little dishonesty to get by. The first known novel in this style is Lazarillo de Tormes (ca. 1554), an irreverent work about a poor boy who works for a series of masters of dubious character. The novel has been attributed to Diego Hurtado de Mendoza, but his authorship is disputable.
cracker-barrel \KRAK-er-bair-ul\ adjective
: suggestive of the friendly homespun character of a country store
Example sentence:
"One thing I like about the South," she said, "is that total strangers will often start up cracker-barrel conversations in places like elevators and waiting rooms."
Did you know?
In the days before pre-packaged food and huge supermarkets, a trip to the nearest store was more than just an errand; it was also a chance to socialize and keep up with goings-on. The country store of yesteryear was the focal point of many rural communities, and the heart of the country store was the cracker barrel. Literally a barrel containing crackers, the cracker barrel - which afforded a seat for at least one person - was the spot where folks would gather to chat about weather and politics, or to swap stories, jokes, and gossip. Today, cracker barrels are largely a thing of the past, but the flavor of those friendly exchanges lives on in the adjective "cracker-barrel."
upbraid \up-BRAYD\ verb
1 : to criticize severely : find fault with
*2 : to reproach severely : scold vehemently
Example sentence:
After being late to class for the third time in a week, Marshall was upbraided by his teacher and given detention.
Did you know?
"Upbraid," "scold," and "berate" all mean to reproach angrily, but with slight differences in emphasis. "Scold" usually implies rebuking in irritation or ill temper, either justly or unjustly. "Upbraid" tends to suggest censuring on definite and usually justifiable grounds, while "berate" implies scolding that is prolonged and even abusive. If you're looking for a more colorful term for telling someone off, try "tongue-lash," "bawl out," "chew out," or "wig" - all of which are fairly close synonyms of "berate." Among these synonyms, "upbraid" is the senior member in English, dating from the 12th century. "Upbraid" derives via Middle English from the Old English "ūpbregdan," believed to be formed from a prefix meaning "up" and the verb "bregdan," meaning "to snatch" or "to move suddenly."
poltroon \pahl-TROON\ noun
: a spiritless coward : craven
Example sentence:
In the end, their leader proved to be a traitorous poltroon whose main concern was saving his own skin.
Did you know?
When you get down to synonyms, a "poltroon" is just a "chicken." Barnyard chickens are fowl that have long been noted for timidity, and the name "chicken" has been applied to human cowards since the 17th century. "Poltroon" has been used for wimps and cravens for even longer, since the early 16th century at least. And if you remember that chickens are dubbed "poultry," you may guess that the birds and the cowards are linked by etymology as well as synonymy. English picked up "poltroon" from Middle French, which in turn got it from Old Italian "poltrone," meaning "coward." The Italian term has been traced to the Latin "pullus," a root that is also an ancestor of "pullet" (a young hen) and "poultry."
There's gonna be a fight after school! Bush and that little Tatu guy!
A couple of days ago Hugo Chavez, the Grand Puba of Venezuela, stood up before the General Assembly of the United Nations and told the world's leaders that the President of the United States, George Bush, was Satan and that the podium where Chavez stood (the same lectern Bush had used the day before) still smelled like sulphur.
Sulphur, for those who have forgotten Junior High chemistry class, smells like rotten eggs. It is, in some religious texts, a sign of the Devil.
Chavez then continued to spout that the President had to be stopped in his campaign to rule the world and that the U.S. should stay out of everybody else's business.
My reaction upon seeing video of this speech was to be thankful that the little guy from Fantasy Island, Tatu, had finally found more work. The second thought I had was that this was another in a long series of events that shows the United Nations is a largely pointless body. The reaction from Washington was a bit different. The President, Secretary of State and Ambassador to the U.N. all had no official comment. That's because they're world leaders. They try to keep from heckling the comics. It's part of their job.
Fortunately for me, it's not part of mine.
To quote the very sage Samuel Jackson from the movie “Pulp Fiction”, “Are you finished? Good. Then allow me to retort.”
For all your hollow talk about the evil Satan that is America, you don't seem to understand much about the country you're insulting. When you insult the President, our President, you insult us, all of us. Even those who would see the man impeached have somewhere within them a slight pinch when you make your grade school comments. All Americans may not support the policies of the current administration, whoever that administration consists of at any given time. However, the one thing we're wholly united in is meeting anyone who insults that leadership in the parking lot after school and giving that person …an economics lesson.
You thought I was going to say, “a beating'”, didn't you?
To me, knocking the crap out of my enemies, while fun, is not the most effective solution. The new model for retribution of wrongs endured is economics. Basically, to show somebody a real lesson, take away all their money and make them beg for food and shelter.
It's a tough world.
Each day the United States of America imports one million barrels of oil from Venezuela. 365 million barrels, at 60 dollars a barrel, comes to 21 billion-with-a-b dollars. We hand this bozo 21 big each year so that he can get up in front of the world and tell everyone how we smell like rotten eggs. President Bush said a few months back that we're addicted to oil. If that's true, then our pusher just dissed us.
How smart was that?
This is not the first time Tatu has called America out. He's been name calling for a while. He's also made some interesting threats. Last year, Chavez vowed to cut off Venezuela's supply of oil if the United States doesn't get its nose out of Iran.
Now that, my little man, is a great idea.
I wasn't with you on the whole “Bush smells like the Devil” thing, but this plan of cutting off America's supply of Venezuelan oil? That's a bright bulb. Let's go with that! First, one hundred million barrels of oil a day stops arriving into U.S. ports. Next, the price of gasoline in America spikes to four or five dollars a gallon. This would be followed by a huge chunk of the annual gross national product of the country of Venezuela disappearing overnight.
So let's play a little game, shall we, Hugo?
We'll call it “Whose Economy Collapses First?”
Here's how we play: As the price of gas skyrockets in America, the vast science and research community works at breakneck pace to come up with a workable alternative to oil. It takes the U.S. about ten years to implement the new fuel, made in part from a home grown vegetative crop. The changeover to the new natural fuel is driven by corporate leaders who see a great way to make lots of money, selling American products to American consumers and, oh, by the way, selling the new fuel to all the former customers of Venezuela worldwide. Living with higher oil prices for ten years does slow the economy and some businesses suffer. But our country is so large, so diverse, economically, that the slowdown is just that, a slowdown. It is not a collapse.
In part two of the game, Venezuela's vast science and research community, forced to find another way to make money on the world market, now that the idiot leader has insulted the country's biggest customer… oh, I'm sorry. That's right. Venezuela does not have a vast science and research community. Well, there's always the corporate leaders of the other diverse industries in Venezuela who, no doubt, will come up with others ways to… oh, I'm sorry. That's right. Venezuela does not have corporate leaders of the other diverse industries.
All Venezuela has, as it turns out, is a single income resource, starving people and a power-hungry crackpot at the controls.
But not for long.
If we play our little game of “Whose Economy Collapses First?” as Chavez has proposed, long before Venezuela can go belly up, the starving people rise up snatch the insulting little man from his throne, tossing him in jail, or, perhaps, ending his life long before things get way out of hand. That's because, unlike the United States, Hugo Chavez's country does not freely elect their leaders, changing the person in charge through the power of the voting booth when they are dissatisfied, supporting those they think are less “Satan-like” than most.
And thanks for playing “Whose Economy Collapses First?”
Here's some lovely parting gifts.
Wasn't that fun, Tatu?
It's a fantasy, of course. But don't think it could not happen. I, for one, have lived my entire life watching my country tied to these oil pushers. They're all the same. They're drug dealers. They're world leaders who care nothing for their own peoples. They've tied their economies into one single product and twisted their policies to protect that one source of income. These are men who we would not give the time of day under normal circumstances. Wouldn't it be a fun game to see what would happen if their veiled threats of cutting off our oil supply came true?
I'm betting we would buckle down and thrive.
Tatu would crumple up and starve.
Of course, there's always meeting the little piece of crap in parking lot after school.
réchauffé \ray-shoh-FAY\ noun
*1 : rehash
2 : a warmed-over dish of food
Example sentence:
"[It] is a réchauffé, ... lifted and stitched from 'The Gastronomical Me' and other books." (Victoria Glendinning, The New York Times Book Review, June 9, 1991)
Did you know?
We borrowed "réchauffé" in the early 19th century from the French; it is the past participle of their verb "réchauffer," which means "to reheat." Nineteenth-century French speakers were using it figuratively to designate something that was already old hat - you might say, "warmed over." English speakers adopted that same meaning, which is still our most common. But within decades someone had apparently decided that leftovers would seem more appealing with a French name. The notion caught on. A recipe for "Réchauffé of Beef a la Jardiniere," for example, instructs the cook to reheat "yesterday's piece of meat" in a little water with some tomatoes added, and serve it on a platter with peas and carrots and potatoes. "Réchauffé" shares its root with another English word, "chafing dish," the name of a receptacle for keeping food warm at the table.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
visceral \VISS-uh-rul\ adjective
1 a : felt in or as if in the viscera : deep b : of, relating to, or located on or among the viscera
*2 : not intellectual : instinctive, unreasoning
3 : dealing with crude or elemental emotions : earthy
Example sentence:
The story about the abandoned dogs elicited such a visceral reaction in Amy that within minutes she was on the phone offering to adopt one.
Did you know?
The "viscera" are the internal organs of the body - especially those located in the large cavity of the trunk (e.g., the heart, liver, and intestines). The word "viscera" comes from Latin, in which it has essentially the same meaning. Something "visceral" has to do with the viscera. In a more figurative sense, something "visceral" is felt "deep down." Even in the early years of its use, "visceral" often referred to things emotional rather than physiological. For example, in 1640, an English bishop named Edward Reynolds wrote, "Love is of all other the inmost and most visceral affection." This figurative use is the most common use of "visceral," but the word continues to be used in medical contexts as well.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
endemic \en-DEM-ik\ adjective
1 a : belonging or native to a particular people or country *b : characteristic of or prevalent in a particular field, area, or environment
2 : restricted or peculiar to a locality or region
Example sentence:
Today, cybercafes are endemic to the downtown areas of big cities.
Did you know?
If you translate it literally, "endemic" means "in the population." It derives from the Greek "endēmos," which joins "en," meaning "in," and "dēmos," meaning "population." "Endemic" is often used to characterize diseases that are generally found in a particular area; malaria, for example, is said to be endemic to tropical and subtropical regions. This use differs from that of the related word "epidemic" in that it indicates a more or less constant presence in a particular population or area rather than a sudden, severe outbreak within that region or group. The word is also used by biologists to characterize the plant and animal species that are only found in a given area.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
solicitous \suh-LIS-uh-tus\ adjective
1 : full of concern or fears : apprehensive
*2 : meticulously careful
3 : full of desire : eager
Example sentence:
"She nursed him, she read to him, she anticipated his wants, and was solicitous about his feelings." (George Eliot, Middlemarch)
Did you know?
If you're solicitous about learning the connections between words, you'll surely want to know about the relationship between "solicitous" and another word you've probably heard before - "solicit." "Solicitous" doesn't come from "solicit," but the two words are related. They both have their roots in the Latin word "sollicitus," meaning "anxious." "Solicitous" itself came directly from this Latin word, whereas "solicit" made its way to English with a few more steps. From "sollicitus" came the Latin verb "sollicitare," meaning "to disturb, agitate, move, or entreat." Forms of this verb were borrowed into Anglo-French, and then Middle English, and have survived in Modern English as "solicit."
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
solicitous \suh-LIS-uh-tus\ adjective
1 : full of concern or fears : apprehensive
*2 : meticulously careful
3 : full of desire : eager
Example sentence:
"She nursed him, she read to him, she anticipated his wants, and was solicitous about his feelings." (George Eliot, Middlemarch)
Did you know?
If you're solicitous about learning the connections between words, you'll surely want to know about the relationship between "solicitous" and another word you've probably heard before - "solicit." "Solicitous" doesn't come from "solicit," but the two words are related. They both have their roots in the Latin word "sollicitus," meaning "anxious." "Solicitous" itself came directly from this Latin word, whereas "solicit" made its way to English with a few more steps. From "sollicitus" came the Latin verb "sollicitare," meaning "to disturb, agitate, move, or entreat." Forms of this verb were borrowed into Anglo-French, and then Middle English, and have survived in Modern English as "solicit."
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence."
1 : of, relating to, or constituting a portent
2 : eliciting amazement or wonder : prodigious
3 *a : being a grave or serious matter b : self-consciously solemn or important : pompous c : ponderously excessive
Example sentence:
Saving any species from extinction is a portentous matter, but the Save-the-Owl folks could garner more support with a lighter approach.
Did you know?
It's easy to see the "portent" in "portentous," which comes to us from the Latin adjective "portentosus," itself the offspring of the noun "portentum," meaning "portent" or "omen." And indeed, the first uses of "portentous" in the mid-1500s did refer to omens. The second sense of "portentous," describing that which is extremely impressive, also developed in the 1500s. Centuries later, an editor working on the second edition of Webster's New International Dictionary in the 1930s added a third definition, "grave, solemn, significant," which has since been refined to include the suggestion of a pompous attitude. We are not sure just when the third sense arose, but our evidence goes back to the beginning of the century. And these days, it's the sense we most often use.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
piquant \PEE-kunt\ adjective
1 : agreeably stimulating to the palate; especially : spicy
*2 : engagingly provocative; also : having a lively arch charm
Example sentence:
Reggie's piquant commentary always makes for interesting listening, though sometimes his remarks can go too far.
Did you know?
Piquant flavors "sting" the tongue and piquant words "prick" the intellect, arousing interest. These varying senses reflect the etymology of the word "piquant," which first appeared in English in the 17th century and which derives from the Middle French verb "piquer," meaning "to sting" or "to prick." Though first used to describe foods with spicy flavors, the word is now often used to describe things that are spicy in other ways, such as engaging conversation. Have we piqued your curiosity about another "piquer" offspring? If you've already guessed that the verb "pique," meaning "to offend" or "to arouse by provocation," comes from "piquer," too, you've got a sharp mind.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
ambivalent \am-BIV-uh-lunt\ adjective
*1 : simultaneously holding contradictory attitudes or feelings (as attraction and repulsion) toward someone or something
2 a : continually fluctuating (as between one thing and its opposite) b : uncertain as to which approach to follow
Example sentence:
I love learning about the solar system, but I'm ambivalent about paying to take an astronomy course.
Did you know?
The words "ambivalent" and "ambivalence" entered English during the early 20th century in the field of psychology. They came to us through the International Scientific Vocabulary, a set of words common to men and women of science who speak different languages. The prefix "ambi-" means "both," and the "-valent" and "-valence" parts ultimately derive from the Latin verb "valēre," meaning "to be strong." Not surprisingly, an ambivalent person is someone who has strong feelings on more than one side of a question or issue.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
dithyramb \DITH-ih-ram\ noun
1 : a usually short poem in an inspired wild irregular strain
*2 : a statement or writing in an exalted or enthusiastic vein
Example sentence:
"Among the items offered was the brand of peanut butter I especially relish..., with my published dithyramb to it alongside." (William F. Buckley Jr., The New Yorker, February 9, 1987)
Did you know?
In ancient Greece, the wine god Dionysus (or Bacchus) was feted several times throughout the year. Processions, feasts, dances, and dramatic performances, accompanied by poems recited or sung in the god's honor, were all part of the revelry. Not too surprisingly, the poems tended to be wild, irregular, and dissonant. We know that the Greeks used "dithyrambos" as the word for a poem in honor of Dionysus, but beyond that the origin of the word is unknown. The ancient Greeks also had an adjective, "dithyrambikos," which gave us our adjective "dithyrambic," meaning "pertaining to or resembling a dithyramb."
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
mogul \MOH-gul\ noun
1 capitalized : an Indian Muslim of or descended from one of several conquering groups of Mongol, Turkish, and Persian origin; especially : Great Mogul
*2 : a great personage : magnate
Example sentence:
The media mogul owned such a large number of newspapers and television stations across the country that his influence on political discourse could not be denied.
Did you know?
Started by Bābur, a descendant of Genghis Khan, the Muslim Mogul dynasty ruled much of India from the early 16th century to the mid-18th century. The Moguls were known for their talented and powerful rulers (called "Great Moguls"), so it's no surprise that in English the word "mogul" came to denote a powerful person, as in our frequent references to "movie moguls," "industry moguls," and the like. Skiers might wonder if such power moguls have anything to do with the name they use for a bump in a ski run, but that hilly homonym has nothing to do with Asian Mogul dynasties. We picked up the skier's "mogul" from a German dialect root that is probably related to the Viennese "mugl," meaning "small hill."
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
I know that you're robbing me. But, couldn't you at least be entertaining about it?
Depending on a number of factors including your location and your fear of fellow human beings, chances are likely that you'll get hit up for a donation of some sort today. The pitch might come from the supposedly homeless person you pass on the Clemente Bridge, from the worker bee in your office who is selling candy bars so that her child's elementary school orchestra can buy a new contrabassoon or from the televised ad for starving fly-infested children who need the word of Jesus and fifteen of your cents a day to survive. This month I've been asked to donate to the United Way, my local volunteer fire fighter brigade, the American Cancer Society and for a fund that promises to buy a life-saving operation for a dying dog.
Beggars are everywhere, having now infiltrated the world wide web, both through websites and my email system. If you surf frequently you've no doubt come across a website or two that blatantly asks for loose change. In addition most of us have also received the scam emails from foreign dignitaries who need not our money, but merely our checking account numbers and passwords to gain access to our online banking. They ask only to “rent” our accounts for a few days. In return, they promise to make us rich.
You can't fool me more than three or four times a month.
I know when you're begging.
I nearly always spare loose change for the disabled and those who give their time and effort for no compensation like volunteer firefighters, e.m.t.'s and food banks. But when it's large, corporate beggars I tend to stand back and contemplate a bit. The way I see it, if you can afford television and magazine advertising budgets, compensated boards of directors and celebrity spokespeople, you may not be getting as much of my money to the needy as you suggest.
Oh.
And I also like funny people.
It goes against everything I believe and have already stated, but when somebody comes up with a clever and entertaining way to beg I will usually fork over some cash. In the old days, during the Great Depression and afterwards, “gypsies” would hit city dwellers for loose change with a scam involving a button box and a monkey. The monkey would dance as the “organ grinder” played his button box. After a crowd gathered, the monkey, armed with a tin cup, would work his way around, picking up loose change from suckers.
The “Wizard of Oz” ruined all that.
I realize there's little difference between creative types and the guy who stands in shoes more expensive than mine while shaking a Burger King cup, invoking the Lord's name and demanding loose change for his terrible plight. They're both scams, all right. For some reason, though, a little entertainment goes a long way.
This holds true for the internet as well. While I'll immediately send any message from the “Grand Chancellor of Namibia” telling me of his plight to free up frozen assets in his home country to the trash file, I will give a little of my time to anyone whose pitch is a little more energetic and creative.
Here's one: this week I surfed across a website called “Jimmy's Donkey Fund” which asks the web reader to please donate what moneys they can so that a guy and his bride-to-be can have donkeys serve cocktails at their Mexican wedding reception. The pitch (printed under a fine photograph of a dancing donkey) is, “Next May I am getting married in Riviera Maya, Mexico. The resort where we chose to get married has a package where you can have a “Mexican Donkey Bar Cocktail Party.” In short, they put saddlebags on donkeys and fill the bags with ice, beer, wine, and liquor. The donkeys then walk around with big sombreros on, and you can grab a drink right out of the saddlebag. When my fiancée told me this, my reaction was, “Dear lord, I MUST have donkeys at my reception!!!” Well, it turns out that it just isn't in our budget. So after telling my friends that I would have donkeys at my reception, I had to break the very sad news that this just wasn't going to happen. As it turns out, we were at a bar when I broke the news, and then an idea hit me. I walked up to a complete stranger and without any explanation I asked him, “Would you give me a dollar so I can have donkeys at my reception?” His response was, “Hell yes!” Well, I decided to further my research and I asked another complete stranger only to receive the exact same response. Then I realized what I needed to do, make this website. I figured collecting cash at bars was unreasonable, because I would end up spending the cash at the bar, not saving it for my precious donkeys. But a Paypal account would allow me to save the money for its intended use. So I ask you now, “Would you give me a dollar so I can have donkeys at my reception?”
The website also includes an “F.A.Q.” section. The first question listed is “Are you an idiot?” to which our intrepid beggar answers, “Absolutely. Why else would I want donkeys at my reception?” He then goes on to promise to post photos of the donkeys if all goes well, meaning, of course, if we all give this fool a dollar.
Of course I did.
The United Way might think about this whole “donkey pitch”.
And now if you'll excuse me, I've got to go out to the coop to see if I can get one of our hens to learn the basics of drink serving. If so, we're heading right down to Carson Street.
Tell me I couldn't make some cash on a Friday night.
discomfit \diss-KUM-fit\ verb
1 : to frustrate the plans of : thwart
*2 : to put into a state of perplexity and embarrassment : disconcert
Example sentence:
The governor appeared to be discomfited by the reporter's question, and he struggled for a way to change the subject.
Did you know?
Disconcerted by "discomfit" and "discomfort"? Here's a little usage history that might help. Several usage commentators have, in the past, tried to convince their readers that "discomfit" means "to rout" or "to completely defeat" and not "to discomfort, embarrass, or make uneasy." In its earliest uses "discomfit" did in fact mean "to defeat in battle," but that sense is now rare, and the extended sense, "to thwart," is also uncommon. Most of the recent commentaries agree that the sense "to discomfort or disconcert" has become thoroughly established and is the most prevalent meaning of the word. There is one major difference between "discomfit" and "discomfort," though - "discomfit" is used almost exclusively as a verb, while "discomfort" is much more commonly used as a noun than a verb.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
saccade \sak-KAHD\ noun
: a small rapid jerky movement of the eye especially as it jumps from fixation on one point to another (as in reading)
Example sentence:
In reading, the eyes scan the text in a series of saccades and form what can be thought of as still photographs processed by the brain.
Did you know?
"Saccade" is a French word meaning "twitch" or "jerk." It galloped into English in the early 18th century as a term used in horseback riding for a quick check using the reins. (Today, this meaning is too specialized for entry in Merriam-Webster's Collegiate® Dictionary, but it is stabled in Webster's Third New International Dictionary, Unabridged.) In 1879, French ophthalmologist Emile Javal observed that a reader's eyes make a series of short jumps, which he referred to in French as saccades. It wasn't until 1938, however, when experimental psychologist Robert Woodworth wrote about the pioneering Javal and his saccades, that the ocular use of the word was seen in an English publication.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
thank-you-ma'am \THANK-yoo-mam\ noun
: a bump or depression in a road; especially : a ridge or hollow made across a road on a hillside to cause water to run off
Example sentence:
"That night on the way home, thinking of his pleasant visit, he was suddenly shaken out of his tranquility ... when his touring car hit a 'thank-you-ma'am' in the unpaved road." (Hugh Manchester, Centre Daily Times [State College, PA], August 22, 2000)
Did you know?
"Thank-you-ma'am" might seem like an odd name for a bump in the road, but the expression makes a little more sense if you imagine the motion your head would make as you drove over such an obstacle. Most likely, the jarring would make you nod involuntarily. Now think of the nodding gesture you make when you're thanking someone or acknowledging a favor. The "thank-you-ma'am" road bump is believed to have received its name when someone noted the similarity of those two head bobbing motions. It's a colloquialism particular to American English, and its earliest printed use is found in Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's 1849 prose piece, Kavanagh: "We went like the wind over the hollows in the snow; - the driver called them 'thank-you-ma'ams,' because they make every body bow."
tortuous \TOR-chuh-wus\ adjective
*1 : marked by repeated twists, bends, or turns : winding
2 a : marked by devious or indirect tactics : crooked, tricky b : circuitous, involved
Example sentence:
The road over the mountains was long and dangerously tortuous.
Did you know?
Be careful not to confuse "tortuous" with "torturous." These two words are relatives, and both ultimately come from the Latin verb "torquēre," which means "to twist," "to wind," or "to wrench," but "tortuous" means "winding" or "crooked," whereas "torturous" means "painfully unpleasant." Something "tortuous" (such as a twisting mountain road) might also be "torturous" (if, for example, you have to ride up that road on a bicycle!), but that doesn't make these words synonyms. The twists and turns that mark a tortuous thing can be literal ("a tortuous path" or "a tortuous river") or figurative ("a tortuous argument" or "a tortuous explanation"), but you should consider choosing a different descriptive term if no implication of winding or crookedness is present.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
dunnage \DUN-ij\ noun
*1 : loose materials used to support and protect cargo in a ship's hold; also : padding in a shipping container
2 : baggage
Example sentence:
The container and dunnage add almost two more pounds to the total shipping weight of the items we're sending.
Did you know?
Here's a little quiz for word history buffs. Which of the following statements is true?
a) "Dunnage" derives from the Low German word "dünne twige," meaning "brushwood."
b) "Dunnage" derives from "Dunlop," the name of a famous cheese-making town in Scotland.
c) Etymologists don't know the exact origin of "dunnage."
You've got the goods if you guessed "c." Etymologists have pointed out the similarity of "dunnage" and "dünne twige," but no one has ever proven the two are related. Dunlop lent its name to the cheese it's so famous for, but neither the town nor the cheese has any connection to "dunnage." Truth be told, though "dunnage" has been with us since the 15th century, its etymological history remains a mystery.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
instauration \in-stor-RAY-shun\ noun
*1 : restoration after decay, lapse, or dilapidation
2 : an act of instituting or establishing something
Example sentence:
"Once, humanity dreamed of the great instauration - a rebirth of ancient wisdom that would compel us into a New Age...." (Knute Berger, Seattle Weekly, December 14, 2005)
Did you know?
"Instauration" first appeared in English in the early 17th century, a product of the Latin verb "instaurare," meaning "to renew or restore." This same source gave us our verb "store," by way of Middle English and Anglo-French. Less than 20 years after "instauration" broke into English, the philosopher Francis Bacon began writing his Instauratio Magna, which translates to The Great Instauration. This uncompleted collection of works, which was written in Latin, calls for a restoration to a state of paradise on earth, but one in which mankind is enlightened by knowledge and truth.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
consequential \kahn-suh-KWEN-shul\ adjective
1 : of the nature of a secondary result : indirect
2 : following as a result or effect : consequent
*3 : having significant consequences : important
Example sentence:
Who would have thought stepping off the elevator on the wrong floor that day would be such a consequential moment in Wayne's life?
Did you know?
"Consequential" dates from the 17th century and can be traced back to the Latin verb "consequi," meaning "to follow along." "Consequi," in turn, combines the prefix "con-," meaning "through" or "with," and "sequi," meaning "to follow." The English words "sequel," "second," and "suitor" are among the offspring of "sequi." With the publication of Henry Fielding's 1728 comedy Love in Several Masques, "consequential," which until that point had been used primarily in the context of results, acquired the meaning "important." Evidence for this usage declined temporarily in the 19th century, causing its acceptability to be questioned by such commentators as H. W. Fowler; it resurfaced in the 20th century, however, and is now considered standard.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
pariah \puh-RYE-uh\ noun
1 : a member of a low caste of southern India
*2 : one that is despised or rejected : outcast
Example sentence:
Sasha became a pariah among the experts in her field after publishing a highly inflammatory article.
Did you know?
"Pariah" comes from Tamil, the language spoken in Tamil Nadu, a state of India, and in parts of Sri Lanka. The predecessor of "pariah" is the Tamil word "paraiyan," which literally means "drummer." "Paraiyan" is also the name of an ancient tribal group whose members are included in the Untouchables, or Harijans, the lowest caste in India. Consisting mostly of servants and laborers, members of this tribal group traditionally beat their drums at festivals but were excluded from religion processions. "Pariah" was originally the English rendering of the name of that specific group. It was eventually extended to denote any member of the lowest Hindu caste, and finally used more broadly as a synonym of "outcast."
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
recumbent \rih-KUM-bunt\ adjective
*1 a : suggestive of repose : leaning, resting b : lying down
2 : representing a person lying down
Example sentence:
When Bert glanced at his father's recumbent form in the armchair, he immediately thought that he could use a good nap himself.
Did you know?
If you're ready to take your vocabulary lying down, you'll want to be familiar with the synonyms "recumbent," "prone," "supine," and "prostrate," all of which mean "lying down." "Recumbent," which derives from the Latin prefix "re-" and the verb "cumbere," meaning "to lie down," focuses on the posture or position native to sleeping or resting. "Prone" describes someone who is lying facedown, as, for example, in doing push-ups. "Supine" flips it over, suggesting the position of someone lying inert on the back, while "prostrate" implies a full-scale physical collapse or submission, regardless of the exact position of the defeated body. "Recumbent," dating from 1705, is the newest of the four words; the others all entered English before the 16th century.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
skylark \SKYE-lark\ verb
1 : to run up and down the rigging of a ship in sport
*2 : frolic, sport
Example sentence:
As the couple was walking past the playground, they stopped and watched the happy children laugh and skylark and thought about how they would soon be having a child.
Did you know?
As far as we know, people were skylarking at sea before they were larking on land. "Skylarking" was originally a term used by seamen for their scampering about on the rigging of ships. The first known use of the word in print is from 1809, though the term was part of the sailor's vernacular before that. "Lark," meaning "to engage in harmless fun or mischief," didn?t get jotted down until 1813. Whether or not the meanings of these words came about from the song and/or behavior of birds is uncertain. One theory of the verb "lark" is that it began as a misinterpretation of the verb "lake," which in British dialect means "to play or frolic."
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
Dear Johnny Wonder: How do a thermos know?
It's been a horrible week for Dr. Luis von Ahn, the 26-year old Computer Science professor at Carnegie-Mellon University. First, the troublemakers at Popular Science Magazine named him one of their annual “Brilliant 10”. As if that wasn't terrible enough, the nightmare continued as Dr. von Ahn was informed that he had been awarded a MacArthur Fellowship. There were 25 MacArthur Fellows named this year. Each of them has been handed $500,000 to, according to the foundation, “continue to reflect, explore and create” with no strings attached.
Tell me how bad that would suck.
Luis is a genius. You can tell that right away when you Google him. Here's how one published article described what Dr. von Ahn does each day: he “works at the intersection of cryptography, artificial intelligence and natural intelligence to address problems of profound theoretical and practical importance”.
Hey!
Me, too!
Does he get to play Led Zeppelin requests?
The most amazing thing about Dr. von Ahn being awarded a MacArthur Fellowship is not that the man lives and works in Pittsburgh. As a city, we're chock full of geniuses. Between CMU and the medical community, the Steel City is more than pulling our own weight in brainiacs. What is most astounding to me is that someone, in this case something called the MacArthur Foundation, hands out $500,000 checks to a select number of deep thinkers, asking only in return that they continue to think deep thoughts. Way to go, Scarecrow. The best part of it all is that, chances are, after the photo ops and accompanying newspaper articles, nobody from MacArthur is going to check up on what Luis did with the cash.
I'm thinking about a party.
With a lot of fun games and rides.
And those little pastries.
I could go into greater detail about how the MacArthur Foundation works, how they come up with their annual list of smart people who need pocket money and how Dr. von Ahn qualified to be the first such person in Carnegie-Mellon's long and ivy-covered history, but two things stop me from doing so. The first is the fact that two sentences into reading any article I've found about the good doctor, I'm drooling and snoring, face down on the computer keyboard. Secondly, and most important, I'm pretty busy these days cobbling together my own presentation for the MacArthurs.
Rpresentatives form the Foundation are coming to town to award Luis his check. From what I've been able to find in my research of major online gambling and pornography sites that have links to news headlines, I've got about a month to come up with something really smart and impressive to show them. I'm sure that once duly impressed they will hand me a check as well.
I'm not pretending to be in the same league as the aforementioned CMU professor. After all, I've never even bought a single issue of Popular Science, much less having been featured as one of their “Brilliant 10” (I am, however, willing to buy a subscription if it impresses the MacArthurs). Nobody can hope to rocket from watching reruns of Jackass to working “at the intersection of cryptography, artificial intelligence and natural intelligence to address problems of profound theoretical and practical importance” in a month. That's why I don't expect to be awarded the full half a million, as the good doctor has been handed.
A couple of grand would be nice, though.
The MacArthur Foundation's Fellowships are aimed at geniuses who are working with concepts that can't be described in simple terms. But what about the rest of us? Shouldn't regular, average, terminally dull people be awarded with some cash money if we increase our own knowledge? The theory I'm thinking of submitting to the visiting MacArthurs is based on some work I've been doing with a potato gun.
I call it “a study of combustion vegetable projectile using hair spray accelerator”. The way I see it, if the idea of a cash-award fellowship is to promote continued progress in your chosen field by freeing you of monetary restraints and allowing the awarded to “continue to reflect, create and explore” with no strings attached, then I'm your man.
Just don't call me a genius.
Please.
Once you've been handed that label, like the poor, unfortunate CMU professor, you're done. Not a Thanksgiving will roll by without you being the one chosen to figure out how to put the leaf in the good table. Nary a Christmas will arrive absent of your responsibility for building the perfect bicycle. “Hey, Mr. Genius,” the wife will call from afar. “Does it take a rocket scientist to remember our rule about the toilet seat, or should I offer you a Fellowship to continue your studies?”
I feel badly for the unfortunately bright and now honored man. I wouldn't trade places with him for a moment, unless that moment is the one when he cashes that check.
Other than that instant, I am happy to remain one of the regular, average and terminally dull who are trying to better themselves by straying past the comic section and sports pages. Would a couple of grand for a guy such as me be such a bad example? Come on, MacArthur people? What about the rest of us?
If possible, I'd like to show you my potato gun.
Job's comforter \JOHBZ-KUM-fer-ter\ noun
: a person who discourages or depresses while seemingly giving comfort and consolation
Example sentence:
When Tracey's second interview didn't go well, more than one Job's comforter remarked that she probably would have hated the job anyway.
Did you know?
Poor Job. He's the biblical character who endures extraordinary afflictions in a test of his piety. He loses his possessions, his children, and his health. And then, to make matters worse, three friends show up to "comfort" him. These friends turn out to be no comfort at all. Instead, they say that the things that have been happening to him happen to all sinners - and point out a number of his faults. In the mid-18th century, English speakers began using the phrase "Job's comforter" for anyone who offers similarly unhelpful consolation.
savvy \SAV-ee\ verb
: understand
Example sentence:
Although I savvied little Spanish, I could hear the urgency in the woman's voice and immediately sought a translator.
Did you know?
You may be familiar with the noun "savvy," meaning "practical know-how" (as in "he has political savvy"), and the adjective use (as in "a savvy investor"). And if you've seen the blockbuster movie Pirates of the Caribbean, you also know that the verb is often used as an informal, one-word question meaning "Do you understand?" (as in "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. Savvy?"). But Jack Sparrow (i.e., Johnny Depp) didn't invent the term. Both the noun and the verb came into use around 1785. "Savvy" is based on the Portuguese term "sabe," meaning "he knows," which itself is from Latin "sapere," meaning "to be wise." Creole speakers interpreted the Portuguese term as "sabi" and began using it as one would "know." Eventually, the Creole's "sabi" evolved into today's word.
orotund \OR-uh-tund\ adjective
1 : marked by fullness, strength, and clarity of sound : sonorous
*2 : pompous, bombastic
Example sentence:
Josh cleared his throat dramatically, then did a dead-on impression of the professor's orotund, patronizing speech.
Did you know?
The Latin roots of "orotund" are related to two more common English words - "oral" and "rotund." Latin "or-" means "mouth," and "rotundus" means "round" or "circular." The Roman poet Horace joined forms of those Latin terms to create the phrase "ore rotundo," literally meaning "with round mouth," and figuratively meaning "with well-turned speech." "Ore rotundo" was modified to "orotund" and adopted into English in the late 18th century. It can indicate either strength of delivery or inflated wording.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
hinterland \HIN-ter-land\ noun
1 : a region lying inland from a coast
2 a : a region remote from urban areas *b : a region lying beyond major metropolitan or cultural centers
Example sentence:
Ty and Saja spent a few days in the capital before setting off for the hinterland.
Did you know?
When you're dealing with geography, it helps to know your hinterland from your umland. In 1888, geographer George Chisholm borrowed the German word "Hinterland" (literally, "land in back of") and applied it specifically to the region just inland from a port or coastal settlement. (Chisholm spelled the word "hinderland," but English-speakers eventually settled on "hinterland.") Early in the 20th century, another geographer adopted the German "Umland" ("land around") to refer to the territory around an inland town. What "hinterland" and "umland" have in common is a reference to a region economically tied to a nearby city. But nowadays "hinterland" has a less technical use as well; it's used for land that's simply out in the sticks.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
confrere \KAHN-frair\ noun
: colleague, comrade
Example sentence:
Although Sam is a gifted poet in his own right, he's most often recognized as the confrere of a much more famous author.
Did you know?
"Confrere" arrived in English from Anglo-French in the 15th century, and ultimately derives from the Medieval Latin "confrater," meaning "brother" or "fellow." ("Frater," the root of this term, shares an ancient ancestor with our word "brother.") English speakers also began using another descendant of "confrater" in the 15th century: "confraternity," meaning "a society devoted to a religious or charitable cause." In the past, "confrere" was often used specifically of a fellow member of a confraternity," but these days it is used more generally.
Hi, I'm Willie Nelson and I'd like to introduce you to a very natural product I've been using most of my life.
Each and every month I pay a small fortune to watch TV. In return I am given access to a menagerie of incredibly entertainmenting and educational programming, along with a lot of crap I would never give a penny for if it wasn't included as “part of the package”. It's sort of like this station. To get you to listen, they give you a couple of really great shows, but in addition, you have to listen to me.
Life's a bitch, ain't it?
A man who never threw anything away and a woman who added water to ketchup to get every last drop from the bottle raised me. I was taught from a very young age that if you paid for a sub sandwich that came with anchovies, you ate the anchovies even if you hated the taste because, by God, you paid for ‘em, didn't you?
Perhaps that's why I've watched every channel that came with my satellite dish. I paid for ‘em, didn't I? I've seen them all, some of them just once, some of them just momentarily, just to prove they're there and in full working order. I've no reason to return to SkyAngel, the Christian Satellite Network, although I've seen it. None of the eleven home shopping channels will be seen again. Likewise, I won't be going back to catch up on what they're showing on CCTV, the Chinese station. I can't speak enough Spanish to follow what's on the four Spanish-language channels, although most of the time, from what I've been able to witness, it has to do with somebody cheating on their lover with a waitress. We have the Brigham Young Channel, a Mormon backed religious talk station. There's DIY Television, which stands for “do it yourself”. It shows people some useful projects they could be working on if they weren't wasting time watching TV.
The other night I was checking in with RFDTV, “Rural America's Channel”, which usually airs a lot of shows about horses and cows and the people who touch them. That particular night they were not featuring farm animals, but 1960's country singers. It was a show called “The Wilburn Brothers”, a very, very low budget music-variety mess apparently taped in Nashville somewhere before the age of enlightenment, which featured a pair of bad Everly knockoffs and their guests, Dottie West, Loretta Lynn and some guy in rainbow suspenders. Just as I was about to move on to the Food Channel to check in on what Emeril was blamming, the less inbred of the Wilburns (I believe it was Teddy) announced that they would be pausing for a word from their sponsors.
And suddenly there was Willie Nelson.
Willie, in a spot produced not in the late 1960's, but sometime recently, spoke to RFDTV viewers from his tour bus, his image preserved for posterity by a Christmas gift HandyCam, somewhere on the road.
Again.
The ad was for a gas station, a single gas station, “Carl's Corner Truckstop”, located in central Texas, near a town called Abbott. Willie invited us all to drop by the next time we're in central Texas. And while at Carl's, he pleaded, we should fill up on a tank of BioWillie. BioWillie is a bio-diesel fuel made from corn. It's the farmer's friend, according to Mr. Nelson. He explained this as we the viewers watched him pump some of this mixture into a school bus. It not only helps out the country's farm community, said Willie, but it's a great way to get us all off this “nasty” dependence on foreign oil.
Leave it to Willie to know a nasty dependence when he sees one.
The question, as I saw it, was how much high-test gasoline I would burn driving to somewhere in the middle of Texas to buy a tank of Willie's corn moonshine go juice? Not to worry, calmed the red-headed stranger. If my “local service station doesn't currently carry BioWillie”, all I needed to do was “ask”.
They looked at me like I was crazy down at the 7-Eleven. Try to get a woman who has studied English as a second language to understand the concept of BioWillie.
All this viewing of Willie came at a precipitous time. As you no doubt have heard by now, he was busted yet again for possession of marijuana (along with some trippin' mushrooms) somewhere in the bayou country of Louisiana the other day. They were cruisin' on the bio in the bayou. Willie and his traveling companions (possibly on board the very same tour bus I saw in the commercial) were pulled over by state troopers. Although the gang was carrying more than a pound of pot between them (along with those shrooms), they were given a mere misdemeanor and a warning.
Must be the power of BioWillie.
He's all natural.
At the end of the commercial, Willie politely thanked us for our time and support (he's always very kind). The spot closed with a shot of the tour bus pulling back onto the road as we got a look at the strange airbrushed artwork that takes up the entire rear end. It's a painting of an eagle and a man's face (Willie's, I'm guessing) that are melded together to give us a sort of “Willie, the Eagle-Eyed Protector of Streams, Mountains and America” feeling.
You know what I thought when I saw it?
My parents would have been proud.
Willie and the boys didn't waste those mushrooms they bought.
It's interesting that a single truckstop in the middle of nowhere can now reach millions of people world wide through satellite TV advertising, as long as they are connected to a big name country act and are willing to promote his foray into the fuel market. Of course, there is no guarantee that Carl from Carl's Corner Truckstop is actually reaching millions. He is, after all, way up on RFDTV, channel 9027 on my box.
You heard me right.
Nine thousand.
Twenty-seven.
The channels at that end of the dial are the anchovies of my TV sub sandwich, but I paid for ‘em, so, by God, I'm going to watch ‘em. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get to the computer and hit MapQuest up for directions to Abbott, Texas. I need me some of what Willie's got.
And some bio-diesel would be nice as well.
mimesis \muh-MEE-sis\ noun
: imitation, mimicry
Example sentence:
Late in her career, the painter became less interested in mimesis and began to experiment in styles of abstraction.
Did you know?
"Mimesis" is a term with an undeniably classical pedigree. Originally a Greek word, it has been used in aesthetic or artistic theory to refer to the attempt to imitate or reproduce reality since Plato and Aristotle. "Mimesis" is derived from the Greek verb "mimeisthai," which means "to imitate" and which itself comes from "mimos," meaning "mime." The English word "mime" also descends from "mimos," as do "mimic" and "mimicry." And what about "mimeograph," the name of the duplicating machine that preceded the photocopier? We can't be absolutely certain what the folks at the A. B. Dick Company had in mind when they came up with "Mimeograph" (a trademark name that has since expired), but influence from "mimos" and its descendants certainly seems probable.
picaresque \pik-uh-RESK\ adjective
: of or relating to rogues or rascals; also : of, relating to, suggesting, or being a type of fiction dealing with the episodic adventures of a usually roguish protagonist
Example sentence:
Kirk's first novel was a picaresque tale of a young orphan boy coping with life in the big city.
Did you know?
"Picaresque" derives from Spanish "picaresco," which means "of or relating to a picaro." What is a picaro? This word, which also derives from Spanish, means "rogue" or "bohemian." "Picaro" describes a type of character that has long been a popular subject for fictional narrative. Typically, the picaresque novel centers around a wandering individual of low standing who happens into a series of adventures among people of various higher classes, often relying on his wits and a little dishonesty to get by. The first known novel in this style is Lazarillo de Tormes (ca. 1554), an irreverent work about a poor boy who works for a series of masters of dubious character. The novel has been attributed to Diego Hurtado de Mendoza, but his authorship is disputable.
cracker-barrel \KRAK-er-bair-ul\ adjective
: suggestive of the friendly homespun character of a country store
Example sentence:
"One thing I like about the South," she said, "is that total strangers will often start up cracker-barrel conversations in places like elevators and waiting rooms."
Did you know?
In the days before pre-packaged food and huge supermarkets, a trip to the nearest store was more than just an errand; it was also a chance to socialize and keep up with goings-on. The country store of yesteryear was the focal point of many rural communities, and the heart of the country store was the cracker barrel. Literally a barrel containing crackers, the cracker barrel - which afforded a seat for at least one person - was the spot where folks would gather to chat about weather and politics, or to swap stories, jokes, and gossip. Today, cracker barrels are largely a thing of the past, but the flavor of those friendly exchanges lives on in the adjective "cracker-barrel."
upbraid \up-BRAYD\ verb
1 : to criticize severely : find fault with
*2 : to reproach severely : scold vehemently
Example sentence:
After being late to class for the third time in a week, Marshall was upbraided by his teacher and given detention.
Did you know?
"Upbraid," "scold," and "berate" all mean to reproach angrily, but with slight differences in emphasis. "Scold" usually implies rebuking in irritation or ill temper, either justly or unjustly. "Upbraid" tends to suggest censuring on definite and usually justifiable grounds, while "berate" implies scolding that is prolonged and even abusive. If you're looking for a more colorful term for telling someone off, try "tongue-lash," "bawl out," "chew out," or "wig" - all of which are fairly close synonyms of "berate." Among these synonyms, "upbraid" is the senior member in English, dating from the 12th century. "Upbraid" derives via Middle English from the Old English "ūpbregdan," believed to be formed from a prefix meaning "up" and the verb "bregdan," meaning "to snatch" or "to move suddenly."
poltroon \pahl-TROON\ noun
: a spiritless coward : craven
Example sentence:
In the end, their leader proved to be a traitorous poltroon whose main concern was saving his own skin.
Did you know?
When you get down to synonyms, a "poltroon" is just a "chicken." Barnyard chickens are fowl that have long been noted for timidity, and the name "chicken" has been applied to human cowards since the 17th century. "Poltroon" has been used for wimps and cravens for even longer, since the early 16th century at least. And if you remember that chickens are dubbed "poultry," you may guess that the birds and the cowards are linked by etymology as well as synonymy. English picked up "poltroon" from Middle French, which in turn got it from Old Italian "poltrone," meaning "coward." The Italian term has been traced to the Latin "pullus," a root that is also an ancestor of "pullet" (a young hen) and "poultry."
There's gonna be a fight after school! Bush and that little Tatu guy!
A couple of days ago Hugo Chavez, the Grand Puba of Venezuela, stood up before the General Assembly of the United Nations and told the world's leaders that the President of the United States, George Bush, was Satan and that the podium where Chavez stood (the same lectern Bush had used the day before) still smelled like sulphur.
Sulphur, for those who have forgotten Junior High chemistry class, smells like rotten eggs. It is, in some religious texts, a sign of the Devil.
Chavez then continued to spout that the President had to be stopped in his campaign to rule the world and that the U.S. should stay out of everybody else's business.
My reaction upon seeing video of this speech was to be thankful that the little guy from Fantasy Island, Tatu, had finally found more work. The second thought I had was that this was another in a long series of events that shows the United Nations is a largely pointless body. The reaction from Washington was a bit different. The President, Secretary of State and Ambassador to the U.N. all had no official comment. That's because they're world leaders. They try to keep from heckling the comics. It's part of their job.
Fortunately for me, it's not part of mine.
To quote the very sage Samuel Jackson from the movie “Pulp Fiction”, “Are you finished? Good. Then allow me to retort.”
For all your hollow talk about the evil Satan that is America, you don't seem to understand much about the country you're insulting. When you insult the President, our President, you insult us, all of us. Even those who would see the man impeached have somewhere within them a slight pinch when you make your grade school comments. All Americans may not support the policies of the current administration, whoever that administration consists of at any given time. However, the one thing we're wholly united in is meeting anyone who insults that leadership in the parking lot after school and giving that person …an economics lesson.
You thought I was going to say, “a beating'”, didn't you?
To me, knocking the crap out of my enemies, while fun, is not the most effective solution. The new model for retribution of wrongs endured is economics. Basically, to show somebody a real lesson, take away all their money and make them beg for food and shelter.
It's a tough world.
Each day the United States of America imports one million barrels of oil from Venezuela. 365 million barrels, at 60 dollars a barrel, comes to 21 billion-with-a-b dollars. We hand this bozo 21 big each year so that he can get up in front of the world and tell everyone how we smell like rotten eggs. President Bush said a few months back that we're addicted to oil. If that's true, then our pusher just dissed us.
How smart was that?
This is not the first time Tatu has called America out. He's been name calling for a while. He's also made some interesting threats. Last year, Chavez vowed to cut off Venezuela's supply of oil if the United States doesn't get its nose out of Iran.
Now that, my little man, is a great idea.
I wasn't with you on the whole “Bush smells like the Devil” thing, but this plan of cutting off America's supply of Venezuelan oil? That's a bright bulb. Let's go with that! First, one hundred million barrels of oil a day stops arriving into U.S. ports. Next, the price of gasoline in America spikes to four or five dollars a gallon. This would be followed by a huge chunk of the annual gross national product of the country of Venezuela disappearing overnight.
So let's play a little game, shall we, Hugo?
We'll call it “Whose Economy Collapses First?”
Here's how we play: As the price of gas skyrockets in America, the vast science and research community works at breakneck pace to come up with a workable alternative to oil. It takes the U.S. about ten years to implement the new fuel, made in part from a home grown vegetative crop. The changeover to the new natural fuel is driven by corporate leaders who see a great way to make lots of money, selling American products to American consumers and, oh, by the way, selling the new fuel to all the former customers of Venezuela worldwide. Living with higher oil prices for ten years does slow the economy and some businesses suffer. But our country is so large, so diverse, economically, that the slowdown is just that, a slowdown. It is not a collapse.
In part two of the game, Venezuela's vast science and research community, forced to find another way to make money on the world market, now that the idiot leader has insulted the country's biggest customer… oh, I'm sorry. That's right. Venezuela does not have a vast science and research community. Well, there's always the corporate leaders of the other diverse industries in Venezuela who, no doubt, will come up with others ways to… oh, I'm sorry. That's right. Venezuela does not have corporate leaders of the other diverse industries.
All Venezuela has, as it turns out, is a single income resource, starving people and a power-hungry crackpot at the controls.
But not for long.
If we play our little game of “Whose Economy Collapses First?” as Chavez has proposed, long before Venezuela can go belly up, the starving people rise up snatch the insulting little man from his throne, tossing him in jail, or, perhaps, ending his life long before things get way out of hand. That's because, unlike the United States, Hugo Chavez's country does not freely elect their leaders, changing the person in charge through the power of the voting booth when they are dissatisfied, supporting those they think are less “Satan-like” than most.
And thanks for playing “Whose Economy Collapses First?”
Here's some lovely parting gifts.
Wasn't that fun, Tatu?
It's a fantasy, of course. But don't think it could not happen. I, for one, have lived my entire life watching my country tied to these oil pushers. They're all the same. They're drug dealers. They're world leaders who care nothing for their own peoples. They've tied their economies into one single product and twisted their policies to protect that one source of income. These are men who we would not give the time of day under normal circumstances. Wouldn't it be a fun game to see what would happen if their veiled threats of cutting off our oil supply came true?
I'm betting we would buckle down and thrive.
Tatu would crumple up and starve.
Of course, there's always meeting the little piece of crap in parking lot after school.
réchauffé \ray-shoh-FAY\ noun
*1 : rehash
2 : a warmed-over dish of food
Example sentence:
"[It] is a réchauffé, ... lifted and stitched from 'The Gastronomical Me' and other books." (Victoria Glendinning, The New York Times Book Review, June 9, 1991)
Did you know?
We borrowed "réchauffé" in the early 19th century from the French; it is the past participle of their verb "réchauffer," which means "to reheat." Nineteenth-century French speakers were using it figuratively to designate something that was already old hat - you might say, "warmed over." English speakers adopted that same meaning, which is still our most common. But within decades someone had apparently decided that leftovers would seem more appealing with a French name. The notion caught on. A recipe for "Réchauffé of Beef a la Jardiniere," for example, instructs the cook to reheat "yesterday's piece of meat" in a little water with some tomatoes added, and serve it on a platter with peas and carrots and potatoes. "Réchauffé" shares its root with another English word, "chafing dish," the name of a receptacle for keeping food warm at the table.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
visceral \VISS-uh-rul\ adjective
1 a : felt in or as if in the viscera : deep b : of, relating to, or located on or among the viscera
*2 : not intellectual : instinctive, unreasoning
3 : dealing with crude or elemental emotions : earthy
Example sentence:
The story about the abandoned dogs elicited such a visceral reaction in Amy that within minutes she was on the phone offering to adopt one.
Did you know?
The "viscera" are the internal organs of the body - especially those located in the large cavity of the trunk (e.g., the heart, liver, and intestines). The word "viscera" comes from Latin, in which it has essentially the same meaning. Something "visceral" has to do with the viscera. In a more figurative sense, something "visceral" is felt "deep down." Even in the early years of its use, "visceral" often referred to things emotional rather than physiological. For example, in 1640, an English bishop named Edward Reynolds wrote, "Love is of all other the inmost and most visceral affection." This figurative use is the most common use of "visceral," but the word continues to be used in medical contexts as well.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
endemic \en-DEM-ik\ adjective
1 a : belonging or native to a particular people or country *b : characteristic of or prevalent in a particular field, area, or environment
2 : restricted or peculiar to a locality or region
Example sentence:
Today, cybercafes are endemic to the downtown areas of big cities.
Did you know?
If you translate it literally, "endemic" means "in the population." It derives from the Greek "endēmos," which joins "en," meaning "in," and "dēmos," meaning "population." "Endemic" is often used to characterize diseases that are generally found in a particular area; malaria, for example, is said to be endemic to tropical and subtropical regions. This use differs from that of the related word "epidemic" in that it indicates a more or less constant presence in a particular population or area rather than a sudden, severe outbreak within that region or group. The word is also used by biologists to characterize the plant and animal species that are only found in a given area.
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
solicitous \suh-LIS-uh-tus\ adjective
1 : full of concern or fears : apprehensive
*2 : meticulously careful
3 : full of desire : eager
Example sentence:
"She nursed him, she read to him, she anticipated his wants, and was solicitous about his feelings." (George Eliot, Middlemarch)
Did you know?
If you're solicitous about learning the connections between words, you'll surely want to know about the relationship between "solicitous" and another word you've probably heard before - "solicit." "Solicitous" doesn't come from "solicit," but the two words are related. They both have their roots in the Latin word "sollicitus," meaning "anxious." "Solicitous" itself came directly from this Latin word, whereas "solicit" made its way to English with a few more steps. From "sollicitus" came the Latin verb "sollicitare," meaning "to disturb, agitate, move, or entreat." Forms of this verb were borrowed into Anglo-French, and then Middle English, and have survived in Modern English as "solicit."
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.
solicitous \suh-LIS-uh-tus\ adjective
1 : full of concern or fears : apprehensive
*2 : meticulously careful
3 : full of desire : eager
Example sentence:
"She nursed him, she read to him, she anticipated his wants, and was solicitous about his feelings." (George Eliot, Middlemarch)
Did you know?
If you're solicitous about learning the connections between words, you'll surely want to know about the relationship between "solicitous" and another word you've probably heard before - "solicit." "Solicitous" doesn't come from "solicit," but the two words are related. They both have their roots in the Latin word "sollicitus," meaning "anxious." "Solicitous" itself came directly from this Latin word, whereas "solicit" made its way to English with a few more steps. From "sollicitus" came the Latin verb "sollicitare," meaning "to disturb, agitate, move, or entreat." Forms of this verb were borrowed into Anglo-French, and then Middle English, and have survived in Modern English as "solicit."
*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence."