The Raven

Monday, September 30, 2002

Lexis Vexus

As a young lad pursuing the odd and unusual with respect to language, I happened across a copy of Evan Esar's Esar's Comic Dictionary in the early '70s. I didn't know quite what to make of it, except that it was a hilarious read. For example:

Jacks or Better: What it takes to open bus windows.

It wasn't until quite a bit later that I discovered the writings of Ambrose "Bitter" Bierce and learned that he had essentially pioneered the art of "lexicography as social commentary." Originally a series of columns written for a San Francisco satirical journal called The Wasp and penned anonymously under the title of The Devil's Dictionary, Bierce's sardonic definitions earned him a wide following and led to his adopting a sort of alter ego dressed in top hat and cape. Here's a sample:

Marriage, n. The state or condition of a community consisting of a master, a mistress and two slaves, making in all, two.

Once, adv. Enough.

While today Esar's corpus is out of print, it's widely available through sources such as that linked to above. Yet Esar comes across more as source material for the journeyman ventriloquist in need of a few quips, and lacks the social profundity of Bierce whose dictionary is still going strong. I'm bringing this up because here at salonblogs our own Marcie Crofoot is working in the same vein with her American Heretic's Dictionary, and is coming up with some rather clever entries in her blog, such as these under "F":

FOIST - da winnah
FREQUENT - the weirdo split
FUNDAMENTAL COMPLEX - to finance a nut house

There must be some logic, some underlying explanation for why it is that the act of writing alternative definitions leads the author to a cynical and misongynistic mindset. Some might say the cause is rooted in the mechanics of the exercise, and some might opine that after the first few letters are done the anguish of grinding out the rest permits no other perspective. From experience I'd say the latter. We wish Marcie well and offer her the following for when she gets to "L":

Lexicographer, n. A solitary creature of no significance who possesses more power than should be entrusted to any single individual.

6:08:54 PM

Firing Line

If you were thinking about getting a pistol permit in the Big Apple, fergedabouddit. In the last 20 years, the number of permits issued by the NYC PD has fallen 90%—to 3,300 this year from a high of 30,000 in 1981. If you want one of the coveted "right-to-carry" slots, you'll need to fill out a stack of paperwork "3 inches high" and be either a retired cop or a celebrity. DeNiro and Seagal are packin' heat, and so is Donald Trump. The article lists the luminaries you'll want to avoid targeting the next time you go out a-mugging, and surprisingly, at the end of the well-armed lineup, is William F. Buckley. Seems that he should be able to negotiate his way out of an altercation:

Well, you've asked me for my wallet, and before I hand it to you, I should expostulate whether, considering the heuristic means by which you might compel me to obey your request, if this could be considered iniquitous, or, qua our presence in your querencia, you would contenance my remonstrations as being somewhat ... I say, where are you going?

Think Again

In an essay for the NYT, Joseph Epstein takes aim at the overwhelming number of Americans who think they've "got a book in 'em" and intend to write it. He cites our increasingly secular orientation as being the culprit and acknowledges that for many, words left to posterity may be the only hope of achieving a kind of immortality. If only it were that simple:

Forgive me if I suggest that this isn't the most felicitous way to do battle against oblivion. Writing a book is likely, through the quickness and completeness with which one's book will die, to make the notion of oblivion all the more vivid.

In other words, you'll just wind up digging your grave with your pen. Well put, Joseph.

So Long, Joe Cool

A consortium of banks and credit unions in Springfield, Missouri, are putting up signs in front of their institutions that request patrons to remove their hats and sunglasses before entering. The idea, obviously, is to ensure that their cameras get a good, long look at you before you do anything uncircumspect—like rob 'em. The Raven, who generally removes chapeau and shades out of simple courtesy in such venues, dislikes the thought of being told to do so and worries that privacy and anonymity are swiftly becoming dispensable luxuries in the name of order and safety.

Just a Bit Suspicious

By now everybody's heard about Bulgarian student Nikolay Volodicv Dzhonev's lil' stunt at the Atlantic City airport. He's the last guy to board the plane, and as he's going through the screening checkpoint they discover he has concealed a pair of scissors in a bar of soap and has several boxcutters inside a bottle of lotion. Naturally, they asked him to explain the subterfuge.

The man told authorities he packed the items that way to keep them from damaging anything else in his backpack

Me? I wrap stuff in my socks. Never considered putting 'em inside the soap bar. Those clever Bulgarians. TSA Spokescop Robert Johnson explains why they didn't let Dzhonev board the plane after the discovery of the items: "The concern was there may have been some effort to conceal them," Johnson said. As an experiment, The Raven just now tried to put a pair of scissors inside a bar of soap, and reports that it is a lot harder than it sounds.

9:45:36 AM