Word of the Day: keck

Well, It's Christmas Eve Eve, and I hope that means those of you inclined to be celebrating the Christmas Holiday have wrapped all of your presents, sent all of your cards, cooked all of your cookies and sweets and are ready to enjoy a restful weekend. I hope everyone is keeping warm and enjoying the hopefully peaceful company of loved ones. 'Kay. Enough of that. Onto...

Today's Word:

keck

As in:

Recently, the Consumer Product Safety Commission issued a recall of more than 50 million Roman-style shades and roll-up blinds, citing the potential hazard of children becoming entangled in the cords and strangling themselves. Five children have died of strangulation and 16 others have been nearly strangled has been the victim of the dangerous shade cords, a mortality rate of less than .000001%.

Despite the fact that the chances of getting strangled by the shades are far less than the chances of being killed in an auto accident, the commission is not recalling autos. However, in a related story, paper manufacturers across the world are recalling paper, a product which is widely known for being the source of many painful and ugly cuts.

Following the lead of the CPSC, the FDA has announced that, due to the potential hazard that such things as alcohol, narcotics, and even food, present to the American consumer, these items also are being recalled in an effort to curb the potential for holiday-related kecking.

keck: / kek / to retch or heave, as if about to vomit. 2. to feel or show great disgust.

Word of the Day: pemphigus

I have no idea what to say here.

Today's Word:

pemphigus

As in:

As the world inches closer to the year 2012, many are looking to old books of prophesy and religion and finding naught but doom.

Both the red and the white heifer, the Hebrew analogues of the red and white dragons in the Arthurian tales, have been born, signifying the beginning of the end of the world. The ashes of the red heifer are supposed to be sacrificed in the Dome of the Rock to make way for the building of the Third Temple. The final Antichrist prophesied by Nostradamus, Bill Gates, is in the world, and the price of a decent cup of coffee has soared to over $4.

Yet, even more disastrous prophesies have also been fulfilled. The prophesies of a highly obscure, but no less important book of Prophesy, "The Book of All-Things Unseen by Blue-Eyes with Glasses," or the book of "Really, Truly and Honestly Important and Scary Things to Happen at the End of All, as Written Down by Fred" has predicted that in the final days, the Ruler of the Turkey Free World, Tom Turkey, will be assassinated by wasps, and served, with his
Prime Minister, Jerry Turkey, at a gathering of good friends. The prophesy states that the gathering will be a noble and momentous occasion, and shall have in attendance those destined to rule the New World after the Cataclysm which will begin after the suspension of work by an overpaid conglomerate of tall young men. From the gathering will emerge the New World Order, an order characterized by more trees, the exploration of all things physical and metaphysical and a certain "jen e sais quois."

The prophesy also state that the world will be overrun by disease, in which many people and turkey exhibit symptoms of pemphigus, and can find no salves to cure it, and there will be a plague of saucy froggies carried by a haboob across the many oceans.

*********
Of course, nobody ever listens to Fred...

pemphigus: / PEM-fi-gus / a disease characterized by large blisters on skin and mucous membranes and often by itching or burning. Oh yes, and for those that don't remember, a haboob is a strong wind/sand storm, esp in N. Africa.

Word of the Day: crispation

It’s the time of year where everyone is going insane with holiday schtuff. Perhaps it’s time to take a pause, on the shortest day of the year, and remember the true Spirit of the Season. This story is unlikely to be that moment.

Today's Word:

crispation

As in:

The U.S. actions in Iraq have prompted increased security to help curtail any terrorist activity that might be planned. Government officials are being cautious that terrorists groups will try to capitalize on the confusion of the holiday season.

But few suspected that the violence would erupt from the fringe group known as Citizens for the Preservation of the Holiday Spirit, a group which is obsessed with promoting the year-round celebration of all holidays. The group polices "un-Holiday-like" behavior and forces the offending persons to watch holiday films, consuming holiday foods and forced holiday activities such as caroling, cooking, sledding and visiting relatives until their behavior is properly adjusted. Their techniques of "torture" include the continuous playing of seasonal music and the proliferation of exorbitantly "cute" decorations.

Recently, the group was denounced for focusing merely on the Christian holiday celebrations, which led the leadership to add "attitude adjustment protocols" for those with different, but "no less valid" traditions. Differing holiday traditions, according to the group, are "certainly no less a manifestation of goodwill and the holiday spirit of kindness."

However, the group is so "manifestly opposed to a world without cheer" that they have acted in violence, to make clear that they will not tolerate U.S. aggression or the proliferation of "Scrooges and Grinches everywhere" Today, members of the group, armed with tinsel and colorful marshmallows, pelted the trees surrounding the Pentagon. Other group members, armed with similar weapons of mass happiness, began to decorate strangers as they waited in long shopping lines and shoot air canisters filled with tinsel into the trees an onto playgrounds and around malls. Each "armed" group had portable stereos playing Christmas music, and some carried dangerous glass ornaments.

The reaction of observers, whose faces were "decorated" in decidedly non-Holiday crispations, were, frankly, unpleasant, and to the minds of the Citizens for Preservation of the Holiday Spirit, quite uncharitable. "What the heck do they think they're doing?!" exclaimed one observer. "Freaks! Weirdos!"

*********************

crispation: / kris-PAY-shun / 1. A curling or being curled, 2. a slight, involuntary contraction of the muscles or skin.

Word of the Day: whelk

It seems the holiday brings out the best in some people, and the worst in others. This story is likely to do both.

Today's Word:

whelk

As in:

In light of recent anthrax letter threats to anti-abortion establishments, a floundering pharmaceutical company has devised a great gift item for would-be biological terrorists and others interested in giving the gift of pestilence this holiday season.

“Nothing brings out the spirit of the holiday season quite like a cold or a cough or a hemorrhage,'' said company spokesman, Fred 'Bleeding Gums' Lockheart. ''It' s time to put real emotion back into the holidays with the viral gifts that keep on giving.''

''Take for example our Sickness Sampler. It's got every thing a family needs to spend a warm, loving holiday season together. Typically, the delightful treats in the Sampler, are enough to bring all the relatives from all over the country in to visit. It's so effective, it should be called 'The Family Reunion Sampler.' ''

The ''Sickness Sampler'' contains such concoctions as ''Marzipan Mucosa,'' ''Hepatitis Helper,'' ''Ebola Ecstasy,'' “H1N1 Hype Happiness,” and ''Anthrax Excitement'.'

Said one satisfied customer, ''I gave my husband a box of the 'Hepatitis Helper,' and I've never seen his color look so good. I' ve always thought he was stunning in yellow. I think I'll try their line of cosmetic diseases, and maybe Peter can have a beautiful whelk crop to go with his lovely new color.''

''Really, nothing is more heartwarming than the sound of a loved-one coughing up gallons of black, red or green fluid. And when they lose a lung, oh, the joy! It's actually quite beautiful.'' said another customer.

****************
Not for the faint of stomach.

whelk: \ welk \ a pimple or pustule.

Word of the Day: futtock

Do you remember the Christmas when the toy that everyone wanted and couldn't find was the "Tickle Me Elmo?" Yeah. That was 13 years ago. Well, today's story was written about a different Elmo, but, given the holiday season, I thought I'd drag it out again, especially since this year is the 40th anniversary of Sesame Street.

Today's Word:

futtock

As in:

A Kmart store in Denver pulled a "talking T-shirt" from its shelves when several customers complained about its inappropriate language. The shirt, which depicts the beloved Sesame Street character, Cookie Monster, is suppose to say "Time to Truck". Unfortunately, the "t" in "truck" sounds like the letter "f".

This is the forty-second recall of shirts which had poor sound recordings. The first recorded incidence was in 1842 when a "pull-string" sailor doll had a recorded message of "Hoist the sails and man the futtocks", in which the unfortunate "f" sounded like a "b". Other near misses included the popular "tickle-me Elmo" doll, which says "that tickles." The doll was delayed for U.S. release because, oddly enough, the phrase sounded like "I don't like to be tickled, so put me down you pervert." The recording was fortunately fixed in time for the doll to be the hottest selling item in the U.S. for Christmas 1996.

This story is brought to you by the letters "f", "t", "b" and by the number 42.

**************
A short story, but, efficiency is to be admired, I think.

futtock: / FUT-ok / Any of the curved timbers forming the ribs of a wooden ship. Also, the futtock plate is the top of a ship's lower mast which holds the futtock shrouds, which are short iron rods that brace the top mast where it joins with the lower mast. Now you know.

Word of the Day: amaurosis

I have little in the way of introduction for this story, mostly because it's a rerun.

Today's Word:

amaurosis

As in:

Researchers have discovered that a high fat, low carbohydrate diet significantly reduces the number of seizures associated with epilepsy.

In a study of children with epilepsy, it was found that 70% of those children on a special high fat diet experienced fewer seizures. A high percentage of these children reported no seizures at all while on the diet.

Interestingly enough, while the diet did result in fewer seizures, the incidence of juvenile heart disease has increased dramatically. Researchers are uncertain as to whether the diet is connected to this upsurge.

Parents are concerned that this dietary regimen will cure their children at the cost of a lifetime of heart related problems. "It seems sort of ridiculous to us. It's almost like curing drunk driving by instituting a policy of mandatory amaurosis. Heck, if I couldn't see, I wouldn't drive. Well, I mean, that sort of plan will largely stop people from driving, sober or not, but will it be a beneficial long-term plan? I like couch-potatoes as much as the next guy, and I'll admit, that seizures are really damaging to leading a normal lifestyle, but, well, there's gotta be another way."

Researchers are uncertain as to why the diet works, but the results seem to indicate that there has to be some reason for the positive results. Says one, "Yeah, sure, the kids put on a few pounds and their activity levels plummeted. They are now no different from hundreds of American kids who, despite the fact that they don't have epilepsy, are equally out of shape, hysically inactive and on the verge of developing heart disease. Now kids with epilepsy can be normal kids, just like all the rest. It's great that they can now be full-fledged members of their society, and can related to the other children in a meaningful way. I'm sure, for kids with epilepsy, this is a dream come true. A regular modern miracle."

****************************************

Okay. That's it for today. type to you all later.

amaurosis: / AM-o-RO-sis / partial or total blindness.

'Twas the night before the Holiday Party

Last week, one of my coworkers asked me to write a skit or something for the holiday party. It had to be written quickly, the video crew was coming to film the department the next day, so, if we were going to have something, it had to be done in a few hours. So, I quickly wrote this, mostly over my lunch hour, and then typed it up and did some minor quick polishing, and sent it to my boss.

It got a few chuckles from my department (Human Resources, for a State of Colorado entity), and each member of the department was going to be one of the "people" in this script.

At the very end of the day, I learned from the camera crew that they were not using audio for the film. I'd spent about 3 hours on this, and thought it pretty good, and it was never going to be seen, and had all been something of a wasted effort.

Well, I decided that even though it wasn't a Word of the Day, it should be seen. Here it is.

PERSON1
Greetings! The HR department thought it would be nice, as our contribution to the annual holiday party, that I would read that timeless classic “Visit from St. Nicholas” for your enjoyment.

Clears throat, and begins

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

(interrupting)

PERSON 2
Hold on a second. We can’t say Christmas. It’s far too Christian. Can we change it to “holidays” or something?

PERSON 1
But, the poem is about Christmas, there’s no Kawanza/Solstice/Hanukkah in it. And “Twas the night before the holidays? That doesn’t even make sense.

PERSON 2
We really should be all inclusive…

PERSON 1
Fine. Holidays it is.
'Twas the night before the HOLIDAYS, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

PERSON 3
I probably shouldn’t be saying this, but, well, St. Nicholas is a religious person. Don’t we need to be concerned about the separation of church and state here?

PERSON1
Maybe? I dunno. But, what would you like me to use instead?

PERSON3
Well, how about “Annual Gifting Guy?”

PERSON1
I have no words. (pause) Fine.

Scribbles in BOOK with PEN, making the correction.
“Annual Gifting Guy”

Resumes reading
In hopes that Annual Gifting Guy soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,

PERSON4
Hold it! We have many employees with non-traditional families, and this excludes them. And what about married people with no children? Or single people? This is pretty insensitive.

PERSON1
What do you propose we do?

PERSON4
Well, maybe we need to take out the references to their living arrangement, just to be sure.

(Scribbling a note)
PERSON1
Fine. I’ll take out the stanza, and we’ll skip to the noise outside. OK? Good.
(continuing, frustrated)
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,

PERSON5
I don’t think we should be using that word. It’s pornographic, and someone might feel like we’re fostering a hostile work environment.

PERSON1
What word?
(Pauses)
You mean, breast?
What’s wrong with it? It’s perfectly in context.

PERSON5
It makes me uncomfortable. Snow is not supposed to be all… you know… Not, well, compared to a woman’s anatomy.

PERSON1
It’s poetic!
Fine.
How about “crest” Does that work?
(continuing)
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

PERSON6
We can’t call him old.

PERSON1
What?

PERSON6
It’s Ageist. How about “chronologically advanced?”

PERSON1
“Chronologically advanced?” that’s 7 syllables. Seven . To replace a one syllable word. Do you even care about meter? Honestly. If we have to change it, we’re just using “cold” it’s not the same thing, but at least it doesn’t mess with the meter.
(continues)
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
(stops self, scribbles)
I knew in a moment it must be Sir Gift.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

(stops self, scribbles)
With the sleigh full of toys, and Annual Gifting Guy too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Annual Gifting Guy came with a bound.

PERSON7
I’m pretty that working on the roof with eight reindeer is an OSHA violation. And, even if that’s not, the chimney sure is. If he fell, would it be Worker’s Comp? And who pays?

PERSON1
Santa is NOT going to fall. And, if he does, it’s not our issue. Can we just get through this?

PERSON8
I’m not sure I like your attitude. It’s not much in the holiday spirit

PERSON1
(groans, pauses and continues)
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;

PERSON9
FUR?! That’s ridiculous. And, arriving to his workplace covered in dirt? I *know* that doesn’t comply with the dress code

PERSON1
(eyes the others significantly, but says nothing, then, continues, ignoring the comment)

A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

PERSON10
Does Santa Have a drinking problem we should be worried about? The rosy cheeks and nose are worrisome. That could be an FML issue. We should send him the paperwork.

PERSON1
Santa has not requested any leave time for a problem, which he probably doesn’t have. Rosy cheeks can also just mean that IT’S COLD OUTSIDE. That’s all.

(calming)
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;

PERSON11
He smokes? He’s a children’s icon. He can’t smoke. What kind of example does that set?

PERSON1
There won’t be any children at the holiday party. It’s not really our audience…

PERSON11
Parents should be cautioned about this poem. It’s dangerous.

PERSON1
I’ll add a disclaimer. Happy?

He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;

PERSON12
“Elf” is a pretty racially charged word. Can we say “small-statured-American? Or maybe “Vertically Challenged Polar Personnel?”

PERSON1
We’ve changed the poem enough. If there are elves in the audience that get mad, just send them to me.

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,

PERSON13
You know, this would be a good time to review the gift-giving policy. I don’t think stockings are covered under Board Policy, and if he's gone over the maximum dollar value amount for gifts, it could be an ethics violation...

PERSON1
(as if not hearing the comments)

And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Holidays to all, and to all a good-night."

Word of the Day: minatory

It's been a long cold week, and I'm relieved to see the end of it. I wish you all a wonderful weekend, and plan to type to you all on Monday.

Today's Word:

minatory

As in:

Office life had changed drastically for the inhabitants of the desk. No longer were they central to the activities of the office. Rarely were their services called upon, and frequently, their lives had become meaningless, simply waiting, hoping they would be put to the purpose they had been born to achieve.

These days, the pen merely endured the long working hours, watching. Sometimes, she wouldn't even be touched. Others, she'd be grabbed forcefully to make a miniscule mark, shoved into a cup, or rolled across the desk only to fall onto the ground. Many was the time that the pen looked longingly towards the keyboard and its nearly constant contact with fingers, their light dance across the keys reminding her of the time when the fingers were always wrapped around her middle, and how the thoughts flowing from the hand onto the paper through her very own ink created such lovely lines and glorious words!

That was a lifetime ago. The glowing picture frame with its attendant manipulation tools the mouse, and the keyboard, took all of the writer's attentions. For a time, the pen tried to ignore the growing isolation. "It was only a phase," she told herself, "He'd need her again soon." When it was clearly not a phase, the pen attempted to damage the keys by falling on them with her full weight whenever possible, but, to no avail. The keyboard easily withstood these attacks, without once even realizing they were, in any way, minatory.

One day, when the pen had given up trying to attract the attention of the fingers, she felt herself suddenly lifted towards a fresh stack of beautifully clean and flat paper! Excitement filled her with a sense of purpose: She would not let the fingers down! She'd show them what they had been missing! The words would never flow more freely.

She had lain dormant too long. Her foot stumbled on the path. She was forced to do dizzying circles, to coax the ink to flow. The pen focused with all her might to deliver the ink to the page, and finally the ink arrived...

Too Fast. The ink was flowing faster than she could control it. Soon the ink was everywhere, and large splotches were spreading quickly over the paper, and covering the fingers.

The fingers tossed the poor pen towards the waste basket with a quick snap. Cold and alone, her ink runs out, pooling in the bottom of the bin.

*********************
Sorta bleak there in the end, huh? Well, Happy Friday!

minatory: / men - AH - tore - ee / threatening, having a menacing quality.

Word of the Day: bezonian

I’d thought this story up when the award was announced, and planned to have it all written up and ready to go today, but I thought I’d have ages of time, and kept putting it off, until it was today. I don’t even yet have a word picked out. Gadzooks.

Today’s Word:

bezonian

As in:

Protesters gathered outside the building where President Obama received the Nobel Peace Prize. The crowd was angry that the award had been given to Obama on very thin grounds.

The group believes that the Noble Prizes should not be given except to those that have accomplished something noteworthy, not to people that might do something, or to encourage them to follow-through with their best-laid plans. Many of those attending the protest feel that this year, the award should simply be renamed the “Thank God He’s Not George W Bush” Award.

“In that case, they should give it to everyone who’s not George Bush. All six billion of us. And, heck, if we all got a cash prize with it, I think that would make one heck of a stimulus package, and possibly money better spent than the bailout funds…”

“You might as well even give it to the bezonian Bernard Madoff. After all, he only stole money. He also didn’t start a war and is also not George W. Bush.”

“Mostly, I just want awards to mean something, and to really reward excellence. If there was no one that actually earned the award, it shouldn’t be given. It reminds me of that stupid award in the Simpsons. You know, ‘The First Annual Montgomery Burns Award for Outstanding Achievement in the Field of Excellence’ which Burns gave to Homer to make sure Homer didn’t sue the power plant. It *feels* the same. But, this is the *Nobel* prizes. They mean something. Or, at least, they used to mean something.”

The prize committee had no comment.

********************
I think this was funnier before I wrote it.

bezonian / bee – ZONE – ee – ann / a low fellow or scoundrel

Word of the Day: "canard"

So, a funny thing happened on the way to the computer. I won’t go into details, but, there was a spaceship, a tuba and a package of Swedish Fish. It is a good story, and perhaps one day you will hear it.

Of course, it means I’ve been exceptionally remiss in my duties. But, there’s no time like the present to try again. So, no more blathering. Onto…

Today's Word:

canard

As in:

Shocking news today reveals that the most virilent carrier of the H1N1 virus is not person to person contact, it is, in fact, the media itself.

The virus seems to be gaining strength over the normal forms of seasonal flu simply because it has a higher media saturation. While deaths in a standard flu season typically average about 36,000 nationwide, the H1N1 strain has only been responsible for about 3,900.

Concerns have been raised that the more the disease is talked about, the greater the number of cases that appear. "People seemed to be confused. The concern for the H1N1 flu is all out of proportion to the actual severity of the threat," says Dr. Rosenthal, a local physician. "Because of its high profile in the media, people are reporting their illnesses in much higher numbers than usual. This is inflating the overall picture of the problem, thus fueling more media attention, which, in turn, fuels people's concerns and sends them to wait in long lines for the scarce H1N1 vaccine, and into the doctor for every minor case of the sniffles. Most of the sick people who've been scared into my office don't even have the flu, they have other ailments."

One paper reported that a woman became convinced that she had contracted the virus from her computer, while reading about the dreaded H1N1 flu. She was sure that if she didn't have H1N1, she must've at least caught some other kind of virus from her computer. She reasoned that if her computer could get viruses, it could spread them not only to other computers, but to their owners. said the woman, "I'm Helen Marcum, and I'm a PC, with a virus. I was so sure that it was H1N1, and that, like the millions who succumbed to the the swine flu in 1918, we would be facing a much worse problem when it returned to attack in the modern era. With computers and other devices for transmitting data in seconds, it seemed logical that in a day of computer evolution, the computer would simply have become a disease infested murderer itself.

Later, it was revealed that the paper had published the story based on an internet canard, and retracted the tale, but it appeared the damage had been done.

"The H1N1 virus, the shortages of H1N1 vaccine, and the long lines of people waiting for the vaccine have been one of the lead stories every night on the news for weeks. It's like the media is addicted to talking about it, and made it an epidemic just by repeating the story," notes Eric Macon, a pharmacist. "I really wish they'd encourage people to get vaccinated for the seasonal flu. When it gets going, it's bound to be much worse than this is. I bet they won't even bother reporting about the regular-old, boring, seasonal flu."

**********

I wrote this several weeks ago, in long hand, but, never went looking for a word, and failed to get it put down in pixels. But, eventually it got committed to digital format, and now it's in your little e-in-baskets. Hope everyone is staying free of the pork plaque.

canard / CAN - ard / a false or unfounded report or story.