Word of the Day: fastuous

It is Friday, and I am grateful. I've been debating which story to finish and send today, and I finally settled on doing the story for "Up." I think "Up" is my favorite movie of all the nominations this year. Those Pixar folks sure know how to tell great stories.

Today's Word:

fastuous

As in:

Adventurer Charles Muntz learned a great deal as he was falling through to the ground. First, he learned that he *really* didn't like falling. Second, he learned what his faithful dogs had experienced when they had plummeted to the ground, and it wasn't the least bit pleasant. Third, he learned that he really didn't care much for Kevin anymore, and she could just disappear off the map. Fourth, his obsession with capturing Kevin hardly mattered any more. His fastuous temperament evaporating in the winds of free fall, Muntz became a much more humble and grateful person.

Usually, a "death fall" epiphany and repentance would be a short lived achievement, and the story would end here. However, as a person who lived in an airship, Muntz already knew that gravity is a harsh mistress, so he always wore a parachute, which he opened at the appropriate time. It also meant that the lessons he learned as he was falling would actually be of some use.

As he arrived safely on the ground, he resolved that forever forward he would wear the cone of shame as a visual representation of his guilty conscience. He decided he would devote his remaining years to helping all canines, to repay the heroic loyalty of the dogs that had served him.

He refined his doggy speech translator collars, and found a way to bring them to the mass market for a very reasonable price. He founded a free vet clinic for all dogs and dog owners to get competent medical care at no cost. He also has founded a canine college to teach dogs to read. So far, the dogs have been unable to read a complete sentence, due to the unfortunate number of windows in the building, which faced a squirrel infested grove. Contractors would be replacing the windows next spring.

Muntz's current projects include inventing a way for dogs to use hand tools, including writing implements, and a design for a flushing dog toilet. These projects are not going well. Despite this, Muntz was happier than he had ever been. He was surrounded by canine companions and his passion, tempered into moderation, was achieving real results that they were positive and satisfying to all parties.

True to his word, Charles Muntz never removed his collar of shame, even though he admitted it was a problem at night when he tried to sleep. And, sleep is where death finally claimed him, at the age of 102.

***************
Have a great weekend, everyone.

fastuous / FAST - you - us / haughty, arrogant; ostentatious, showy.

Word of the Day: sacrosanct

I've been trying to postpone working with James Cameron's opus to white guilt until next week for a few reasons, the biggest of which is this; I know it's likely the movie most of you have actually seen which means I need to have a good idea for it.

But an idea came to me via an article I read, and I had no better ideas for any of the other nominated movies, so, here it is, a look at the power of guilt in the movie Avatar.

Today's Word:

sacrosanct

As in:

Movie-goers have been flocking to see the movie Avatar for many months now, breaking box office records and being one of the most talked about movie experiences in decades.

Many of these same people, when exiting the movie, indicate that after seeing the film, they are feeling depressed and even suicidal as they leave the theater.

Viewers have so identified with the Na'vi, who live on Pandora in harmony with the natural world around them, that they want to start their own Na'vi tribe, and try to find a more meaningful existence.

One group of people is doing just that.

"I know I am really a Na'vi. I feel spiritually connected to them, and I know Eywa (the mother goddess of the Na'vi) will welcome me. I want to live a meaningful life, not one where all I do is destroy the planet in the name of wealth," commented Peggy Joslin, one of the founders of the Na'vi in Exile. "We have an obligation to Eywa to nurture our world and bring it back into balance. This is a tall order for our world, but, I must try. Our planet is sacrosanct, and we cannot defile it any further."

Some members of the group have been attempting to turn their skin blue through the intake of high doses of colloidal silver. Some of the more scientific among the group are trying to find a way to create the "genetic fiber optics" that the Na'vi have in their hair stalks. "I'm really looking forward to have an "always on" connection to the world." says Matt Trathien, one of the Na'vi in Exile.

Critics of the group have wondered how people from our technological world will cope with the "natural world" as it really is. "I bet most of them will be back at their homes with their running water and flushing toilets within a week. It's not easy to go from our world, with its stores filled with pre-killed meat, and ready to eat produce. These people are as unprepared for a 'native' lifestyle as a baby is ready to drive."

****************
Happy Friday Eve everyone. Have a good day.

sacrosanct / SAK - row - sangkt / most sacred or holy.

Word of the Day: irenic

One thing I have learned from this set of stories: Guilt is just not funny. You all are probably right to think me insane, or at the very least, idiotic, for picking this theme. I'm thinking I'm probably both. But, as I've gotten myself into this mess, I'm going to continue attempting to make guilt funny.

So, on that hopeless note, I bring you Inglorious Basterds, now with more guilt!

Today's Word:

irenic

As in:

The year is 1941. SS Colonel Hans Landa has just paid a visit to dairy farmer, Perrier LaPadite, and, in his charming and insidious way, forced him to reveal that he is hiding the Dreyfus family, his former neighbors, who are Jewish. Landa assassinates the family, hiding under the floor boards. All except their teenage daughter, Shosanna, who escapes the house, and Landa allows to flee.

After completing their act of murder, the Nazis leave the LaPadites with a floor filled with bullet holes, a bunch of bodies, and the lingering guilt over trading their lives for the neighbors.

The farmer stacks the bodies of the Dreyfus' together in the cellar, to bury the next day. He weeps for failing them, and hopes Shosanna is able to survive. He tidies up his home as best he can, and retires for the night.

In the morning, before the family has gotten up to milk the cows, they hear sounds from the cellar. Fearing the Nazis have returned, Perrier grabs a pitchfork, and goes to investigate.

He finds more than he had imagined.

The Dreyfus family was no longer stacked neatly in their corner of the cellar. They were at the door, pounding to be let out. They rushed past LaPadite as soon as he opened the door, which meant he had time to attempt a conversation with them.

"You're alive?! How can this be?"

They rudely ignore him, and shamble towards open air. LaPadite calls again. They continue to ignore him and walk at a below-average pace toward the direction Colonel Landa had vacated the premises.

If LaPadite had ever heard of such a thing as a Zombie, that would be what he would've called the Dreyfuss family. But, if had known about zombies, he would wonder why they didn't stop to eat his, or his family's brains. But, instead, he was just pleased he didn't have to bury them, and silently wished them well.

The Dreyfuss' had bigger goals than brains. They wanted Landa. So, with their new-found zombie focus, they pursued him as quickly as their shambling feet would take them.

For three years they pursue him across Europe, never quite reaching their prey. As the summer of 1944 arrives, and the signs become more irenic, the family's single-mindedness becomes alerted to a significant change. Their inexplicable homing signal, drawing them to Landa, has radically changed direction, and became much weaker.

Being zombies, this simply meant a change in direction, and a trans-Atlantic walk under the ocean toward the U.S., where one day, perhaps they would meet Landa again, and take care of his particular brand of evil.

***************
Zombies are always funny, right? I'm sure you are tired of them, but, today, the Zombies saved me, and I'm grateful.

irenic / eye - REN - ik / favoring or conducive to peace, or becoming more peaceful.

Word of the Day: videlicet

It's Tuesday, and that means I'm trying to figure out which Oscar nominated Best Picture to do next, and also caught in the Tuesday-ness of life, which means I'm behind. With nine nominees to pick from, you'd think it's be an easy choice; a so-called "target rich environment." Alas, the choice is not easy. So, I think I'll just go with aliens. Tuesday is good for aliens.

Of course, there are two alien movies nominated in the Best Picture category this year, so, which one should I pick? I decided on District 9.

Today's Word:

videlicet

As in:

It has been nearly 3 years since the "perspective reassignment operation" which altered Wikus van de Merwe. He has spent the time enjoying cat food, and struggling for survival in District 10. He is wondering if he will ever be reunited with his wife.

All around him he sees the piles of discarded scrap and garbage, the rows and rows of sheet metal structures pretending to be dwellings, and a group of Nigerian scammers. He thought about his father-in-law, and wondered what lies he might be dreaming up today. He was surprised to have learned, after all those years of working for MNU that its main product was lies.

He'd learned that he'd produced his own set of half-truths and justifications, but, the worst part was that he'd been his own primary customer, purchasing a measure of happy lies to get him through the day.

For a few weeks since that fateful day he couldn't being himself to do much more than sit in the filth of District 10, wallowing in self pity and the guilt of his infanticide. Later he decided that was pointless, and didn't help him purchase cat food, so, he made a plan, videlicet, he secretly went into business.

Using the abundant shrapnel littering his ghetto home, he made delicate flowers out of thin metal. These he sold on the folk art black market, staying under MNU's radar, and using the proceeds of his venture to provide cat food and supplies for thousands of his fellow refugees.

His designs, which made millions of rand under the banner of "prawn art," targeted wealthy patrons who themselves were guilt-ridden enough to purchase the "insider" artwork, but not motivated by their guilt to do anything more meaningful. Their consciences eased and their social status as compassionate, concerned humanitarians established, they could allow themselves to proceed with their own lives in self-satisfied peace.

Even if he did return to his wife someday, he would still need a job, wouldn't he? And this one seemed to be more than profitable. Did that make him a profiteer? He didn't know or care. Certainly, if he stayed here, he wouldn't feel the least bit guilty about using the situation. Other things haunted him, perhaps, but not this.

So, for the time being, he simply did like all life does, he carried on.

********************
I found this difficult to write about without giving too much away about the movie for those who haven't seen it. Hope I succeeded.

Oh, and gosh, guilt is a total downer. Cat food can lighten things only so much.

videlicet / Vih - DE - liss - IT / That is to say, namely.

Word of the Day: cavil

According to the calendar, we are 13 days away from the Academy Awards telecast, which means that the annual Oscar Word of the Day tradition is upon us. This year, there are 10 nominees for Best Picture, which means 10 stories inspired by these movie choices.

In years past, it was comparatively simple to find something thematic to unify the nominations and, therefore, the series of stories I would write. With 10 nominees, it was much, much more challenging.

After weeks of thinking about it, I finally hit on a common theme. Guilt. All of these movies are leavened with a fair amount of it. So, I just figured over the course of the next two weeks of stories, I would just heap a hearty helping of additional guilt into each of the movies. It'll be a guiltapalooza. Fun, huh?

I will start by doling out a measure of guilty-goodness to Up in the Air.

Today's Word:

cavil

As in:

Career Transition Counselor Ryan Bingham was on his way to his fourth layoff of the week. The last few weeks had been a particularly challenging series of engagements, as all of the people had reacted especially poorly. Nearly 25% of those he'd made his "What's In Your Backpack?" speech to had found creative ways to use their backpacks to take their own lives. One had even hanged himself with the straps of his backpack.

Worse even than that, was the case of Lyle Forman, who seemed fine when he had left the office with his box of desk decorations and other personal objects, but had come back a week later with a gun and shot his supervisor and three others before he shot himself.

This job was just not the same any more.

Maybe he could blame the economy. As times got tougher, people were bound to take his particular brand of news much worse than they had when things were a bit easier. Maybe he had lost his touch, and his brand of compassionate, motivational message delivery was no longer sufficient to successfully and peacefully transition people from the world of gainful employment to the world of uncertainty, financial worry, self-doubt and depression.

Bingham wondered if these stories meant that he himself was going to have to face "career transition." He smirked for a moment, thinking that of all the reasons he'd expected to possibly lose his job, he'd never expected it would be related to adverse employee reactions. He'd always been good at his job, and never had this much fallout.

He'd always guessed that he'd be more in danger from those who'd cavil on about the cost of sending him personally to conduct his business, or who were unhappy about his own personal carbon foot print reaching more than 10 million travel miles. He'd weathered those trifling concerns for years, but always thought they'd someday win. He just never expected that they'd have a body count to buoying them past triviality.

And he wondered if he would have to actually reflect on the only tangible measure of his life, his mileage counter. He had avoided thinking about such things because it ran contrary to his happy philosophical niche. He liked watching those numbers climb.He liked living out of his backpack, free of connections. He didn't want to be confronted with the superficiality of his existence. Life was really easier if you didn't reflect on this sort of thing.

Sensing the danger, he beckoned to the flight attendant and ordered several adult beverages. Shaking himself out of his serious thoughts, he sipped his beverage, and welcomed the return of sweet oblivion.

************
Yeah, that's some guilt, I'd say. Welcome to Monday.

cavil / CA - vil / to raise trivial or frivolous objections. Makes you wonder who gave Dean Stockwell's Battlestar Galactica character his more than fitting name, doesn't it?

Word of the Day: immane

The idea for this story was given to me by my sister, who heard my idea-less cries from the depths of cold in the darkness of a Friday morning. I'm not entirely sure how it all will end up yet, but, I'm hoping that someone will tell me.

Today's Word:

immane

As in:

Gerald Kingston did not like bells. In fact, if he was being honest about how intense was his dislike of the ringing, clanging, jingling and jangling rattles of insistent cheeriness, he might admit that he was deathly afraid of them, and had been for as long as he could remember.

He had no idea why bells where such a sore point with him. People always asked him, as if he could find a rational explanation for an irrational fear. "That was sorta the point of such things," he thought. "They don't have, or need, explanations."

But, everyone was a pop psychologist these days, and everyone insisted there *must* be some sort of reason for every neurosis, phobia, or condition. He didn't much care for pop culture.

Sometimes, just to get rid of the persistent pain in the pop psychologist, he'd offer some reason for his bell phobia. He'd say "I think it might've traced back to the moment when I heard that "whenever you hear a bell ringing an angel gets his wings. That must be it."

Gerald didn't care much for angels either.

Matched by his immane hatred of bells, pop culture and angels, was his love for cats. He loved those furry, purry, pouncy pets.

The only problem was that Gerald couldn't bring himself to even shop for a cat, for fear that the cats might be collared with bells. And what if the shop had a bell on the door that would ring the moment he entered? Then he'd be in a small space surrounded by bells, trapped between a bell and a jingling place.

He once told someone of his dilemma, and the patronizing person told him that "Most cats don't come with bells. You know, also, the bells can be removed. You do know that, right?"

And Gerald cursed popular culture yet again for fooling him into thinking cats had to have bells.
*****************
I, for one, am grateful that Gerald didn't know you could remove bells from cats, because, if he did know that, there wouldn't have been much of a story.

immane / eh - MANE / Very great; huge; 2. monstrous in character; atrocious; fierce.

Word of the Day: feculent

We have found ourselves at Friday Eve, and I'm running late yet again.

Today's Word:

feculent

As in:

The Orange County Coroner's office announced today that it will investigate the death of a man who was hit by a flying metal object at Disneyland earlier this week.

Police officials are suspicious of the death, the first at the park in a decade, because eyewitnesses claim that the metal did not come from a failed mooring, as park officials claim, but rather from a strange weapon, which witnesses insist was fired by none other than international symbol of goodwill, Mickey Mouse.

"Yeah, I saw him. That mouse isn't fooling anybody anymore. He just shot that thing straight at him. Cold-blooded, it was. And none of the park's security even bothered to stop him. They just let him go to his little mouse house." reported a witness.

Presently, no one has offered a motive for Mickey to shoot anyone, though conspiracy theorists suggest that perhaps the shooter was acting as a hit mouse.

Some witness feel like the fact that no one stopped the shooter suggest that the park itself was complicit in the killing. "I heard him say something about how he felt this wasn't really the 'happiest place on Earth,' and that he'd been to a number of happier places. Then I saw some guys in black suits with dark glasses and headsets speak follow near him, and then they said something into them. A few moments latter, the Mouse appeared."

One investigator, a former employee of the park, commented on the case, and said, "This whole thing stinks. I'm looking at the biggest cover-up since the sex-change operation of Peter Kloe, better known as 'Mystery Spice' before his secret leaked and the rest of the group kicked him out of the band. I haven't smelled anything this feculent since Walt's freezer broke down, and every thing thawed out. Everything. Walt, Goofy, (and let me tell you, he smelled like a thawed dog...) even a weird experiment from the 1960s, which I think had to do with aliens. It was really ugly, let me tell you."

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

There hasn't been a death at Disneyland recently, so, don't be worried if you haven't heard about it, there's no cover-up in progress. Well, not one that I know about. And no, there really was no 'Mystery Spice' in the Spice Girls. And, I dunno if Walt Disney really did have himself frozen. It's one of those urban legend sorts of things, but it is kind creepy, and so I added it.

feculent: / FEK - yoo - lent / filthy, foul, esp having the nature of, or containing, feces. Not a very pleasant, word, I suppose, but that's the way it goes sometimes.

Word of the Day: fissiparous

I started working on this idea weeks and weeks ago, but stopped because it seemed to get more and more lame as I worked on it. Then, last night as I was going to bed, trying to think of *something* to use for today's story, I landed on this old, half-baked idea, and had one little bit that made me feel a tiny bit better about it. That bit was, mostly, that it was *something.* Something is better than nothing.

Here goes something.

Today's Word:

fissiparous

As in:

The training began months ago. Eager participants took to carrying equipment in large bags for weight-training, and strapping heavy weights around their necks to get used to moving with their binoculars in place. Field guides have been memorized, and teams carried out both routine and surprise rounds of lightning-fast identification with both audio and digital tests.

Watchers conducted drills to improve the speed, silence and accuracy of their binocular-to-eye techniques. Photographers honed their picture taking techniques for split-second clicking to catch their quarry before the quarry vanished from sight.

Exercise regimens were begun and followed, movements synchronized and lists prepared. All of this, for their Big Day.

The event date was set, and the teams of bird watchers were finally ready. The marathon of 24 straight hours of spotting as many different species as possible was rewarding and everyone felt they did their best. Judges reviewed the team's lists of the birds the teams had spotted, and came across an impossible entry.

The list was filled with birds that were never spotted in the wild locally. These birds didn't migrate anywhere near North America, and there was nothing fissiparous about the judges' opinions on the list. This list could not be true, and the team must be disqualified.

The judges did not like to highlight the problem such blatant dishonesty; it sullied their sport, and birders were generally taken at their word, which made the confrontation particularly awkward.

The judges began by asking for photographs from the team. The team provided their photos. Flabbergasted, the judges reviewed the evidence, where all became clear. This team had spent its day at the local zoo.

***************
I always wondered if some bird watcher tried to turn in a list from a day spent at a zoo. I think that's all from me today.

By the Way, it is Random Acts of Kindness day, which, seems to me to defeat the "randomness" of the idea. Oh well. Kindness, random or not, is a good thing.

fissiparous / feh - SIP - are - us / divisive, tending to break into parts or factions.

Word of the Day: pelf

I'm shocked that it's Tuesday, for no particular reason. I can't decide if I'm feeling like it should be earlier in the week, or if I'm shocked that I'm feeling like Tuesday is exactly what day it should be. Think about that, won't you?

Today's Word:

pelf

As in:

Excitement is growing as the nominations for the third annual Memmy Awards are to be announced later this week. Speculation has been rampant, and rumors abound that there will be some controversy in the nominations.

The Memmys, awards granted by the Academy of Office Arts and Sciences for achievements in the field of office work, are just starting to gain momentum and a following among the aficionados of office trades. They have floundered on the edge of obscurity until this year, when so many watching the banking world under the microscope of the TARP bill.

Most coveted is the award for "Best Production," A category in which reports and proposals of all kinds can be nominated. Expected to get a nod are the developers of "Google Wave" for their developer preview it Google I/O which made Google Wave seem much cooler than it actually is. Another front runner, until it was actually announced, was Steve Jobs, for presenting the closely wrapped and highly anticipated tablet for Apple, which turned out to be called the iPad, and was also not nearly as interesting in reality as the item was speculated to be prior to its announcement.
Other hotly contested awards include "Best Worker in a Supporting Role," "Best Worker in a Lead Role," "Best CEO," "Best Original Memo" and "Best Adapted Memo," for achievements in memo writing.

There are many who think the Memmys are a waste of time, given that the best performances are not likely to be acknowledged. Many observers of the field of office work note that really excellent work, worthy of acknowledgment, takes place in offices all over the country, but it's in a company no one has ever heard of, or the company itself isn't in the news media everyday, so no one even notices it. Some note that an office works best when no one even notices how well it is working, which seems to indicate that the offices most worthy of acknowledging are the ones that will never get a Memmy Nomination.

Controversy is likely to infiltrate the nominations in the category of "Best CEO" as the nominations packets included, Akio Toyoda, Toyota's CEO, who was not facing a massive recall scandal when he was considered a front runner for the award. While most winners of the award expect to see a small increase in money or riches, should Toyoda be awarded the prize, all that Toyota received in 2009 might be considered pelf.
****************
I admit, this was, in part, inspired by Conan O'Brien's Audiency Awards, given for the sitting and viewing arts.

Admittedly, the iPad announcement would unlikely be eligible for the 2009 Memmys, since it wasn't announced in 2009, but, I just don't care that badly. Quite likely because the Memmys don't exist.

pelf / PELF / money or wealth, esp. money or wealth acquired by reprehensible means.

Word of the Day: quixotic

It's Monday yet again, and that means that you are opening your e-mail to find this lovely little package. Think of it as a belated Valentine from me to you.

Of course, it being me, it is a slightly warped Valentine. And, you being you, reading this at all, you probably don't mind so much.

Today's Word:

quixotic

As in:

This year, the IOC has approved an Olympic Games for a unique subset of the "differently-abled," and invited athletes from all over the world to participate in the first games of its kind in Vancouver.

The first Zombie Olympics will take place the week after the traditional games have ended. As the number of events that Zombies are able to perform are limited by their special conditions, both the summer and winter events are going to be held at the same time.

Summer events include distance shambling, the brain maze obstacle course, and the weight pulling events. In obstacle course events, the athletes are given a limited amount of time to get through a course where the succulent brains have been completely hidden, and must be detected using scent only. In weight-pulling events, the competitors are strapped to large weights, and pull them in pursuit of tempting platters of flesh.

Winter sports include ice dancing, which is a non-skate event, snow shoeing, which involves racing through snow in shoes, and sledding, which involves pairs of zombies in bobsled-type vehicles on snowy hills.

In all zombic sports, contestants are not penalized for lost body parts, and each event usually has several "clean-up" periods between races to clear the courses of any debris.

Zombies are divided into two classifications based upon their speed class. The "classic" category, often referred to as the "Romero Zombies," are noted for much slower race times. The "Half-Life" category is for those zombies capable of much faster speeds.

Critics of the event object to the exploitation of these athletes, as well as the term "Zombie." Preferring the term "Unwell," they feel that these sorts of events are nothing more than a way to experiment on the undead, and they are adamant that this quixotic, zombic Olympiad is simply degrading to both the healthy and the Unwell.
****************
Clearly, I have Zombies on the brain lately.

Some may object to today's word choice as being far too familiar. I chose it in honor of Bob Costas, who used it in the opening ceremonies broadcast on Friday, and given the subject matter, it was a no-brainer. Pun totally intended.

quixotic / quick - ZOT - ick / foolishly impractical; marked by rash, lofty, actions. Capricious.

Word of the Day: nidor

Today's glimmer of an idea is not even nearly as good as yesterday's. I'm saying this because you, my devoted readers, deserve the truth. Because the truth isn't out there. It's here. For you. And the truth hurts. Me. Mostly me.

Today's Word:

nidor

As in:

For last minute shoppers looking for that ultimate Valentine's Day gift, remember that nothing says romance quite like our "President's Day" sale. Come on in, and see for yourself why Crazy Ned's Tire and Road Kill Emporium is the place to be for VD! We're staying open late to give you and your sweetheart a Valentine's Day to remember.

Bring your special someone in to see our quality tires made from the finest materials in the world. Breathe deeply the sweet smell of automotive products, and marvel at our low prices. And this weekend, our spectacular President's Day deals will have you buying gifts for the whole family. Bring them all to Ned's and enjoy a skewer of our house specialty, "Squirrel Kabobs." They taste great, and you can carry them with you while you shop. Or relax and enjoy a quiet meal of venison steak and fingerling potatoes in our lovely dining room. If you've never eaten deer with your dear, isn't it time?

Enjoy the nidor of freshly killed meats mingled with the aromas of new tires! It's a smell you won't soon forget, and neither will your date. Give her a lifetime Valentine's Day memory, bring her to Ned's, where the rubber meets the road.

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

I saw an ad wanting me to buy gifts for President's Day, and then I wondered "Who buys gifts for President's Day? Such a romantic idea: "Here, honey, I was honoring our Presidents and wanted to get you a little something!" And it sorta went downhill from there.

I thought about having Ned's offering couples some other latex related products for dining with them on Sunday, and tried to work it in, but, I figured that would be pushing it. But wait! There it is. Have a great weekend, however and whatever you celebrate.

nidor / nih - DOOR / the savory aroma of cooked meat or food.

Word of the Day: inimical

Today I overslept, and since I didn't come up with an idea yesterday, I'm scrambling for one at the same time I'm feeling that confused panic of having missed my intended wake-up time.

As a jog to my creative juices, I did my obscure holiday check, and today is Don't Cry Over Spilled Milk Day, Make a New Friend Day and White Shirt Day, which apparently honors employees who helped the UAW become the sole bargaining agent with General Motors after a sit-down strike which ended on this day in 1937.

I think I'm just going to go with the barest sliver of an idea that I got, and try not be too disappointed that it isn't brilliant or the funniest.thing.ever. Instead, I'll be glad I got something original sent out, before I had to go to work, and without resorting to other tactics.

Today's Word:

inimical

As in:

Preston Taylor was feeling the pressure. His calendar was telling him that today was Make New Friend Day, and he had never been particularly good at that. He wondered if whoever came up with the bright idea for this reason to sell cards even thought about the fact that making a friend was a process, it was not typically something that could be done in a single day.

He told himself "It's just a calendar." He was under no obligation to make friends or wear shirts or talk to some cat. He could just forget the tiny notation on the bottom of Thursday's page, and go on with his life.

But, the page bothered him. Why was he resisting making friends? He might try just walking down the street at lunch, where it would have sidewalks filled with pedestrians. He could see himself, holding out his hand, and saying "Hi, I'm Preston. I'd like to be your friend."
He grimaced. Right, that isn't remotely awkward. He'd be lucky if no one called the cops and had him committed.

Preston wondered briefly why that was. He wondered what he would think if someone came up to him and offered him friendship on the street. "Because it was weird," his brain offered. No one trusts weird things, and if you can't trust someone, well, it's hard to be their friend.

He then thought about situations which would make someone a true friend in the span of a day. Reasonably, two people could be united in a common crisis, like being trapped in an elevator, or trapped in a speeding bus that could explode if it slowed down to under 50 MPH. And this was friendship, not a romantic one. Because, he thought with a chuckle "relationships that start under intense circumstances, they never last."

He supposed if he were serious about this making a friend thing, he could simply cause a crisis, and be trapped with some other person, and then they'd become friends... Until the other person found out that he'd caused the crisis, and never spoke to him again, because everyone knows the other person *would* find out. That's like storytelling 101.

No. thought Preston. He would just mostly be himself, offer a friendly gesture, like bringing an apple, unexpectedly, for a co-worker, and let nature take its course. Hopefully he didn't randomly pick the one person who hated apples and would be inimical towards such an offering. If they ended up friends, so be it. So long as they didn't end up enemies, and there was a touch more friendship in the world, well, he figured that was worth an attempt. Maybe not even just on Feb. 11.

******************
Well, it was worth a shot. I'm running late for work. Type to you tomorrow.

inimical / in - EM - eh - cal / hostile, unfriendly.

Word of the Day: furibund

So, this week, we've had virtual snow and creepy martyrs. Sounds like the week before VD (Valentine's Day) to me. Today we talk about another important matter potentially affecting each and every one of us. That threat, ladies and gentlemen, is, of course, zombies. Please, be sure to read beyond...

Today's Word:

furibund

As in:

In preparation for an impending zombie apocalypse, one enterprising young man has started a unique training program designed to increase your odds of surviving in a world of brain craving zombies.

Ken Marshall, the man offering this very practical course explains it this way, "If you notice there are more and more zombie movies made every year. This indicates to me that odds of a zombie-type plaque are on the rise. Combined with the fact that each movie is sorta like free advertisement, I felt like it was time to take advantage of the situation and provide a valuable public service."

The 5-week course recommends developing a whole survival strategy, from carrying a specialized zombie emergency pack, which you should carry with you at all times, and a routine which familiarizes you with good potential for staying during sieges, or for re-supplying yourself. Marshall not only gives you a list of these items and suppliers, he also sells starter kits. These are offered at a discount for anyone taking his course.

The intensive program includes a course on marksmanship, to improve participant's aim, especially under pressure from furibund former people, how to maximize ammunition and kill shots straight to the head, and choosing the best ammunition for your emergency survival pack.

Another course focuses on cardiovascular training to stay fit to best outrun shambling hoards of undead Americans.

There is a course on basic survival, including a few lessons on preventing disease, (especially if the particular strain which causes a zombie apocalypse mutates, and becomes transmitted in ways besides a bite from a zombie), and how to find food after all the non-perishables have perished or been exhausted.

"Training footage," in the form of zombie movies, will be required homework. There will also be time set aside for philosophical discussions, such as "is it possible to reform a zombie?" and "why do zombies always seem to aim their gazes up at the sky, and how do they still manage to see their prey?"

On a lighter note, there is a course on "fooling" zombies, which offers advice on disguising yourself as a zombie to pass through a horde, or using distraction techniques such as throwing shiny objects, or using makeup to appear "already bitten, thanks."

*****************
I've been thinking about zombies quite a bit lately, as you can tell. I almost think that I would take that course. Or, maybe it would be fun to actually sell it. Could make some dollars, I think.

furibund / FUR - eh - BUND / furious, frenzied

Word of the Day: durance

Today is the feast day of Saint Apollonia, patroness of dentists and tooth problems. You might be wondering why I mention this. Likely it will become clear as you read...

Today's Word

durance

As in:

Before she was a Saint, Apollonia was simply a persecuted Christian cruelly tortured for her beliefs. In the midst of her durance, her jailers inflicted their torture by violently shattering the poor lady's teeth. A few teeth were extracted with pincers. After enduring this, the martyr was burned to death.

Or so the story goes.

In truth, the story is far stranger.

Apollonia was one of a number of ladies suffering during an outbreak of violence against Christians in the city of Alexandria, Egypt in the third century. After enduring the painful dental destruction, Apollonia seized the opportunity to throw herself on a mound of flamming coals. But she was not the only one. Using the cover of the others, Apollonia secretly escaped from the fiery pit.

With no dental records to prove she had perished in the fire, and, for that matter, no teeth, Apollonia wandered the streets of Alexandria by night, looking for a solution to her toothless existence. She stayed out of the sight of the living, both for fear of recognition, and out of embarrassment for her current state. One night, she learned of a child who had lost his tooth. His family simply discarded it. Apollonia was thrilled! Perhaps she could fashion some sort of device to help her, made of discarded teeth!

Soon she was searching everywhere for the baby teeth, until she was spotted one night pulling a prize specimen from the refuse heap behind a row of houses.

The small girl whose tooth it had been, looked curiously at the woman, toothless and scarred by flame. She looked frightened.

At this moment, Apollonia spoke. "Do not be afraid. I am the tooth fairy. I bring you a gift in trade for your lost tooth." and she pulled out a small coin. "Tell all your friends that if they simply leave their teeth under their pillows at night, I will find them and leave an offering in its place."

All fear lost, the child did as she was asked.

Apollonia, for her part, was pleased to be able to give small offerings of food in exchange for teeth. She was careful to never again be spotted about her nightly visits.

**************
I think this one has disturbed even me. No, I know it has.

Although, come to think of it, isn't the idea of a tooth fairy pretty creepy anyway? What does she want with baby teeth? Never mind. I don't want to know. Yuck.

durance / DURR - ants / imprisonment

Word of the Day: pervicacious

I am sitting here typing as a means of jogging my brain into an idea of some sort for today. It's feeling vaguely hopeless, but, I've only got about an hour to write this before I have to post something.

I've been having not-so-fun computer issues all weekend, and am grateful for the use of my sister's other laptop so that I can get anything posted at all.

Sooooo...

How was your weekend? How 'bout them Saints? The commercials acquitted themselves nicely, didn't they? The Olympics start on Friday. I wonder if Vancouver has any snow. HMMMMmmmmmm. Yes. Snow. That might be an idea.

Today's Word:

pervicacious

As in:

For many years, Vancouver has increasingly served as "little Hollywood," where television and movie crews can work at a substantial savings over similar facilities in Los Angeles.

The proximity of so many talented producers and directors, has lead Vancouver's city fathers to seek them out in their time of need for the 2010 Winter Olympic Games.

The city needs snow. And, if it can't get any, or make enough, they figure the illusion of snow might just be enough.

"Hollywood's special effects wizards can do anything. If they can transport an audience to a world where unobtainium can be found, well, a little snow should be child's play."

One company is modeling the Vancouver slopes for the downhill races, which competitors will navigate using skiing simulators. When several athletes protested that no simulator no matter how good, can create a world-class skiing venue, one pervicacious modeler insisted that it will look and feel "pretty much" the same. "You won't have cold, or wet, or crashes, but, other than that, it'll be identical. Identical. No one will even notice. They'll probably even like it better, since it'll all be warm and dry."

The company will take motion capture of the athletes, and marry their performance onto the rendering of the mountain, providing NBC with footage of skiers going down the slopes as if they had actually skied the course. "No one will ever know. Well, except the people who read this."

Another company has created vast quantites of a biodegradable fake snow for cross-country skiing events. It conveniently washes away with the rain, so clean-up will be easy. The downside is that multiple applications will be required over the various courses during the 16 days of events.

When asked about the cost for this special effects wizardry, a city official stuck his fingers in his ears and said "NAHNAHNAHNAHNAH. NOT Listening. NAHNAHNAH." Later he could be heard to be muttering "Who picks a host city for a Winter Olympics that only has a 27% chance of having snow in February?"

*********************
Thank goodness introductory brainstorming, eh? Welcome to your week.

pervicacious / per - VEH - kay - shus / very stubborn

Word of the Day: diriment

It's Friday, which means the weekend is here. I am feeling grateful, and am hoping that I'll be able to get enough done this weekend to make next week go by smoothly. Have a great weekend everyone.

Today's Word:

diriment

As in:

Last week, an infant with a rare skin disorder received a skin transplant made from bio-engineered skin. The skin is manufactured by a firm in Massachusetts and is comprised of cells from infant foreskins, removed after circumcision, and bovine collagen.

The derivation of the bio-engineered skin came as a surprise to many, as many were at a lost to explain exactly how the firm came to think that these particular products of infants could be useful. Many people asked have been asking themselves the question: "Why would anyone want to keep that stuff?"

Of course, many researchers in the medical profession have hidden documentation which proves that infants are truly magical beings, and that all products associated with their births and the first six months of their lives are too
valuable to be wasted. Many are familiar with the potential benefits associated with umbilical cord blood and placental material, however, it is not well known that all biological waste products of infants are meticulously collected and hoarded by bio-engineering firms and pharmaceutical giants in hopes of finding "miracle" cures to the world's diseases.

Several of these firms have founded "diaper services" for the sole purpose of gaining access to precious infant waste. Others collect products from hospital NICUs, where even the smallest drop of perspiration is gathered.

Several people, including a large group of individuals which had, at one time, supported these methods for their possible impact in medicine, now feel that the "unpleasantness" has a diriment effect, and thus outweighs any possible profit to be gained in the development of bio-engineered cures.

***********

diriment: / DIR – eh - ment / adj. making absolutely void; nullifying.

Word of the Day: mordacious

It has been an odd week, and it seems hard to believe it's again Friday Eve. I'm not complaining, just noticing. This is another short story. I hope that's okay with you. If not, you're welcome anyway.

Today's Word:

mordacious

As in:

Long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away, there lived a mordacious cat. His name was Hector. He had calico fur, and, like all the creatures in his galaxy, he could talk, and even, on occasion, sing.

But, though he did have several friends, Hector's mordacity was so acute, that few people, beyond his friends, wanted to be around him.

As just one example of this trait, soon after the death of a famous entertainer (who collapsed after eating too many peanut butter and banana sandwiches made from overripe fruit and an overdose of weight-reduction pills), Hector commented "well, he may be dead, but, at least he's not getting any fatter"

And then, one day, Hector got a taste of his own medicine. While eating dinner at a friend's house, Hector began to make unappetizing and rude comments about the other guests. Hector's comments succeeded in making everyone unconfortable, and a few people were actually quite angry. The host, also a cat, and the possessor of impressive, seemingly enhanced reflexes, quickly reached out and grabbed Hector's tongue, glaring at him. When it was clear that Hector was both appropriately surprised, abashed and thoroughly chagrined, the host commented wryly, "What's the matter, Hector? Cat got your tongue?"

* * * * * *

mordacious / moor-DAY-shus / biting, sharp, acrid or caustic (mordacity, nounform).

Word of the Day: calumny

Is it me, or did Lost toss a lateral last night? That was a packed opening, and all I can say is "wow." Well, that and "I didn't realize how much I'd missed it."

Today's story is short, but, perhaps it will strike a chord with you. Perhaps you will look into the window of the workplace and see yourself joining in the battle with Sam, making the world a better place one returned writing implement at a time. It's sorta like the Word of the Day, bringing just a touch of brightness into your day. That is my hope.

Today's Word:

calumny

As in:

After many years working in offices all over the country and in many different industries, Sam Gelbhart had finally had enough. His experience with a large sample of public and private workplaces gave him unique insight in what would prove to be his true calling. Sam was striking out on his own and forming a business which would fulfill a much ignored, and potentially huge niche market.

Sam was going to become "The Righter of Workplace Wrongs."

As defender of the victims of every office wrong, Sam planned to make millions protecting office workers from colleagues who always steal their pens, ransacked hidden candy caches and who engage in water-cooler calumny. No longer would the office be a place where people left the break room littered with dishes, the refrigerator filled with furry Tupperware, or the coffee pot burners remained on to scorch the coffee dregs into crusty black shells. Sam would ferret out each and every violator of workplace civility, return pens stolen, prevent coffee scorching, and assure that each worker would never have to have a falsely maligned reputation.

****************
Sometimes, I really hate those pen stealing types. Happy Wednesday, everyone.

calumny / CAL - uhm - nee / the malicious uttering of false charges calculated to damage another's reputation.

Word of the Day: mantic

It's Groundhog Day, which is not a particularly obscure holiday, but, it is one of the favorites for your humble writer of strange tales. It's a hoot to harness the power of a prognosticating rodent, who has a longer and weirder set of legends associated with him than the Grimm Brothers.

Today's Word:

mantic

As in:

Punxauntawney Phil saw his shadow today, but unique to his sighting was his reaction. Phil panicked.

Consulted annually for his mantic weather abilities, Phil emerged from the door of his Gobbler's Knob estate, saw a shadow, and made some dire predictions not about the weather, but about things no groundhog should ever know.

Through his handlers, in impassioned Groundhogese, Phil frightened those gathered with his frenzied attempts to escape and with the words that seemed to need no translation.

His handlers worked hard to convey Phil's nearly incoherent predictions. His ranting, as nearly as can be interpreted from his native language, are cryptic and ominous.

Nowhere in the century-long record has Phil spoken of anything besides the weather. Some have speculated that Phil's hibernation might have been interrupted this year due to El Nino, or maybe "those crazy kids playing their Rock music too loudly." Others suspect Phil might be getting senile, and the elixir of life has made him insane.

Phil's cousins, Georgia's General Beauregard Lee, New York City's Staten Island Chuck, Jimmy of Sun Prairie,
Wisconsin, Wanda of the Milwaukee County Zoo, and Buckeye Chuck of Marion, Ohio, did not behave out of the ordinary, but, a spokesperson for Chuck, interpreting for his employer, indicates that Chuck always felt that Phil has "unstable," and that "the fame would go to his head, and one day he'd just snap. If you want a woodchuck of sound psyche, you know where I live."

None of these other celebrity woodchucks could explain what Phil's message means. His message, reproduced as accurately as is possible, is included below.

"The shadow of gas returns. The island awakes. Towers of four toes shake. Fire burns in the rabbit hole. The clock can never be correct. Bears of white prowl far from home. No constant. Never a constant. Biscuits of fish."

"Golden man looks for tall blue people of the tail. Solid raspberries for Bullock and Steve. Bowling Saints and horses. No asking, no telling."

*****************************
For those unaware, Phil’s has lived for more than 12 decades thanks to an annual summer ritual where he gets some elixir that extends his life. I am not making this up.

Lost returns tonight, if you didn’t know. And the Oscar nominations are on their way. But then, you all knew that already, didn't you? I do have well-informed readers.

mantic / man - TICK / prophetic

Word of the Day: polysemous

I’m writing this with a sense of haste, as it is early Monday morning, and I’d failed to get it done sooner, which is my own darn fault. This one is dedicated to Jen who gave me the idea in the first place, when she suggested that the story include “Jell-o.”

Today’s Word:

polysemous

As in:

A very tired scientist called a press conference Monday to reveal his shocking findings about gelatin.

“It’s sentient,” he announced to a shocked crowd of journalists. “I’ve only become certain of this over the past few days, while staring into the 12 molded-gelatin desserts my mother made for me. I started to notice that the hypnotic motion of the dessert was not, in any way, random, but instead was a form of communication. I think it’s a form of Morse code, but, more study is needed.”

“I believe that life begins as soon as the hot liquid dissolves the gelatin. From there, it gains intelligence as it congeals. The fully set, or “adult” stage, can best be observed when the item is unmolded and placed on a platter. It is this “unmolded” stage that is characterized by language and attempts to communicate with the human world.”

“I started to take notice in the first hour of observation. The cherry-flavored gelatin wiggled and jiggled the word “stop” in Morse code. After that, it was a series of consonants, so, I had to conclude that “stop” is the only word it knew of our language, and that it had resumed wiggling in its own, as yet undocumented language.”

“After 96 hours, I did observe a full total of 5 words which I believe were in English from the other desserts, but I have been unable to determine if they are part of the same message, or individual ones. The words were: cat, carrots, lunch, pot and polysemous. I’ve no idea what any of them mean, or how gelatin learned “polysemous.” It could mean anything. Take “pot” for instance. Did the gelatin mean to indicate a vessel for cooking or a slang term for marijuana? Perhaps the gelatin knew that there were multiple meanings for “pot” and this tells us why the word “polysemous” came up.”

“Given the grouping of words, I cannot be certain what the message might be, but, I suspect it has something to do with food. It seems likely that the English words it knows most clearly are the ones involved with its own preparation, that is, “carrots,” which are sometimes grated and added to gelatin, “lunch” which is a meal for which gelatin might be prepared, and “pot” which could be used to heat water, or hold the gelatin before it is transferred to a mold. “Cat” could simply be explained by the appearance of a cat underfoot, and the maker of gelatin exclaiming, “cat!” in frustration. Clearly, there is much work to be done.”

“It is clear to me that the words themselves and the patterns they make, that long term observation is the only way to notice the motion as words at all. Those who wish to follow my example will need to make every effort to observe them for long, uninterrupted periods of time.”

“At this time, I cannot continue to observe this group, but, it is imperative that the consumption of these intelligent creatures be stopped at once, and that more scientists are needed to learn the language of the species. I ask the scientific community to join me in this exploration. There is always room for Jell-O at the table of scientific discourse. Thank you for coming today.“

***********************
You always knew there was something fishy about that gelatin, didn’t you? Makes you think twice about eating it.

polysemous / polly – SEEM – us / having multiple meanings