Multiple deadlines have lead me to pull out this story. Hope you like it.

Today’s Word:

lexiphanic

As in:

In the middle of the revolution, the down-trodden, powerless peasants were quickly finding the persons of prominence in their society and quickly dispatching them. This proved to be unfortunate for Max, who, despite his class standing which was equivalent to those of the “down-trodden”, was unrepentantly lexiphanic.

As he walked home from work late one night, two more passionate members of the revolution stopped him and asked him what he was doing. When Max innocently replied, “I am, as is my custom, ambulating towards my domicile following the expiration of my daily labors.” The two men, becoming suspicious of Max’s political affiliations, and not comprehending the answer they were given, looked at each other. The biggest of the two then said simply: “Huh? What’re you talking about?”

To which Max replied, “I am responding with a simple, yet sesquipedalian, expression, which is intended to suffice as the rejoinder to your infuriating query. I would appreciate greatly if you would withdraw and allow me to proceed.”

The two men, convinced now that Max was a spy, and had insulted them by calling them sesquipedalians, no longer cared to talk with him, and merely decided to beat him. It made them feel much better.

**************************
lexiphanic / LEX-eh-fan-ik / given to the use of pretentious terminology. Sound familiar? Bonus points for those that remember sesquipedalian. If that’s not you, well, look it up. It’s good for you.

Monday ate my lunch. I don’t wish to speak of it. I will, however, tell you that the latest Ken Burns documentary on the National Parks is as good as the anything he has done, and almost as good as the Parks themselves. I’m really enjoying it, and feeling like a trip into the mountains for rest might be what I need.

This story is for my librarian pals out there, and also for Mr. Floyd, who pointed out that the week is Banned Books Week, which is the inspiration for the story accompanying…

Today’s Word:

tralatitious

As in:

“Welcome to “Write Back,” the show dedicated to writing and to books. Today, we have very special guests J. K. Rowling, creator of the Harry Potter series, and Mary Cheney, daughter of former Vice President Dick Cheney, whose memoir “Now It’s My Turn” describes her life as a lesbian in the home of the Vice President.” Thank you for joining us today, ladies. Our topic, is banned books. Why are books banned? What can a writer or reader do about this problem? Ms. Rowling, your books have sometimes been banned due to concern that they promoted witchcraft and paganism. What advice do you have?”

“Well, certainly, I didn’t have any idea that people would have the notion that my books were promoting any sort of dangerous notion. After all, when it comes right down to it, the most powerful force in my books was the power of love. Certainly, that’s not usually a controversial topic.”

“Ms. Cheney, thoughts on this topic?”

“Actually, I’d love some advice on how you go about getting a book banned. I think it would really help my sales. Any advice would be very helpful.”

“Uh. Well, I think that is not really our focus today…”

“It really should be. I thought I had a good chance of being banned, because anytime the word “gay” comes up, or is even hinted at, parents try to ban it. Like that book “And Tango Makes Three,” about the two male penguins that hatch and raise a baby penguin? Yeah. most challenged book of this year. And, that’s just an example.”

“Well, you know, Dumbledore’s gay…”

“Like you need to increase book sales, Ms. ‘I’m-so-rich-the-queen-is-jealous!’ Shut-up. That doesn’t count. Announcing after the series is over that he’s gay hardly counts as having “gay” themes, and don’t tell me that Hedwig is gay, or that you meant her to be some sort of warped tralatitious reference to, shall we say, a certain musical! It totally doesn’t count!”

“Really? Did you ever think *your* little memoir didn’t sell because NO ONE wanted to read it? I really don’t think a banning’s going to do it any good.”

“Ladies, please. This is NOT “The View.” Let’s get back to the topic. Perhaps a  caller. Yes, Jill, you’re on…”

“Yes, thanks for taking my call. I’m a librarian, and it seems to me that Ms. Cheney has a point. No one raises a fuss about books unless someone tries to ban them. Then, everyone wants to check them out, to see what all the controversy’s about. I think those people who ban books are dumb if they think banning does any good at keeping “dangerous” books out of kids’ hands, since it seems to have the opposite effect. They’d probably do better to not even mention them, or, here’s a novel idea, maybe they should read them and talk about them with their kids, and discuss the parts that concern them. I’d be much more interested in seeing *crappy* books banned. Any one have ideas on how we can stop really bad books from being printed?”

“Thanks, Jill for opening up that keg of worms. I think that’s all the time we have for today. As always, we’ll be “Write Back” at the same time tomorrow. I’d like to thank my guests, J.K. Rowling and Mary Cheney. Good night, and good writing.”

************
This was harder to write than I thought it would be. Oh well. It’s written now.

tralatitious /tra – la – TISH – us/ metaphorical.

This has been a challenging week, filled with car issues, exhaustion, a touch of sickness, and more stuff you probably don’t want to know about, and which sound mostly hollow and lame, and contribute nothing except filling this introduction space. Skip this top part, won’t you? Thanks.

Today’s Word:

protrusile

As in:

A mother of an HIV-positive girl filed a complaint against the Girl Scouts of America for allegedly discriminating against her child because of the girl’s HIV status. The girl was originally invited to join her local Girl Scout troop, but,
when her mother revealed that the girl was carrying the virus, the girl was “uninvited.”

However, a spokesperson for the group insists that the girl was not “uninvited” due to her infection, but rather because of her many protrusile appendages, which the troop leader claimed were evidence that the girl was not human, and
was really either “one of those creatures like the one Will Smith delivered in the movie Men in Black, or Cthulu itself.”

The leader cites other evidence that the child was not human, including a tendency to want to eat other Girl Scouts, a predilection for making loud obnoxious noise whilst producing a sticky, smelly residue, and an “inhuman”  distaste for Thin Mint Girl Scout cookies.

*************
Actually, the girl was eventually accepted into the troop, but sources say the leader is now missing. Okay. No, the leader isn’t missing. The cookie coordinator is. Ha! Type to you all later.

protrusile / pro-TROO-sil / adj. that which can be protruded or thrust out, as a tentacle, or an elephant’s trunk, etc.

It’s Wednesday! You know what that means? That’s right! Date night! I bet you’re also expecting a story inspired by Ghost Hunters! Wrong! Instead, it’s a trip into the wide world of dirt.

Today’s Word:

nidificate

As in…

Adventures in Dirt

These short scenes are part of the upcoming film, “Adventures in Dirt” about the hopes, dreams and aspirations of that substance, known by some as soil, but known to vast majority of us English speakers, simply, and perhaps mistakenly, as dirt. Read on…

Scene 1: A construction lot. piles of dirt are everywhere. A conversation can be heard by those with extraordinary ears and an open mind willing to believe in the vocal ability of the organic and mineral laden material known as dirt.

“I never thought we’d make it! All my life I’ve crowded down, down, away from the light of the powerful sun, hidden from all eyes. Now, I’m the Dirt of the World! I’ve made it to the light, and I move many feet away from my original resting place! I am an explorer I am a world traveler, I am all that I had hoped I would be!”

Scene 12: A similar lot, but in a poor part of an urban landscape. Here the dirt lies in similar piles, but cannot escape its downtrodden existence. The best hope for the members of this dusty community is to escape by latching on to the impoverished children that come to play here, and from their homes, perhaps even better things. A muffled, grimy voice can be heard over the plaintiff music.

“If only I could leave the confines of this hole. I’m wasting my life here. I didn’t chose to be born, and I certainly didn’t chose to be born here. Stuck here by the color of my particles. ‘Too much iron,’ they say, or ‘too much radiation.’ Is this my fault?! Oh, if only I could nidificate like the birds. If only I could move of my own accord, then I would be worthy of the gift of thought!”

Scene 42: A cemetery. The grass is green, but there are also small piles of rich, dark soil here. The discussion is somber, but calm and respectful. “How peaceful it is to be part of the blessed folk that live in the cemetery. It is the best to hope for. Sometimes, I dream that I will get to rest on the wooden resting place of some great thinker, some famous person, and then, as they deteriorate, I can become one with their earthly vessel, and the matter that combined to form the organic compounds of their body, will mingle with my own, and I too can achieve transcendence. This is the true hope of my kind.”

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

nidificate / NIDH – if – eh – kate / : to build a nest. Thought it had to do with flight, didn’t you? Well, dirt wishes to be able to build a nest, a home of its own. It has no illusions of grandeur, and doesn’t put false hope in the ability to fly. Not like us humans…

Today was a very strange day, and I admit to dragging a bit tonight. Remember that tomorrow is Talk Like a Pirate Day, and that pirates have eye patches and parrots. I’m clearly ranting. So, until next week, I’ll simply leave you with…

Today’s Word:

unasinous

As in:

While the Society for Preparation of Armageddon Caused by astronomical Events (SPACE) awaits Friday’s planetary alignment, rival anti-technology society, Technology Is Mostly Evil (TIME), awaits an Armageddon of a different sort. The two groups, divided by their opposing views and opinions as to the manner of the Apocalypse, have perpetuated a near-violent state of conflict for many decades.

When SPACE announced that the planetary alignment to occur on Friday, May 6, 2000 was the prophesied end of the world, TIME disagreed. The end of the world, TIME says, is going to be Friday, September 18, 2009 at 11:42 PM, MDT. According to TIME, the signs will be building throughout the day, and at precisely 11:42 MDT, our technology dependent world will suffer a fatal collapse, and simply cease to be. TIME spokesperson, Lela Kotler, said that virulent e-mail virus attacks, an upsurge in celebrity deaths, the admission of guilt by a Denver-based terrorist, and discussion of a public health care option are some of the signs of the end of the technical world.

The conflict between SPACE and TIME has escalated over the past few decades. As the world became increasingly technologically advanced, the arguments put forth for SPACE became less credible, and proponents of TIME derided the organization for its “superstitious” ideas. As technology began to make increasing demands on people’s lifestyles, TIME’s membership rolls swelled.

But a third group, Nothing Unusual Tends to Succeed (NUTS), says that neither group is correct, and that the ideas presents by both groups are unasinous, and that, if the world ever did come to an end, it would simply be because of the expiration of the sun in a huge explosion.

**********************
When I first started typing this story, it sounded much more interesting. Of course, I was busy deleting the virus-laden e-mail which was filling my inbox. Anyway, hope to see you all at the end of the world…

unasinous / YOUN-ass-in-us / equally stupid.

While it is new to this site, I got caught up in a bunch of things today, and didn’t get a new story written, so, to some this is a re-run. It’s a good one though, I think you’ll enjoy…

Today’s Word:

xylophagous

As in:

Everything was going well at the Mother Goose Reunion. Miss Muffett, Jack Spratt, and Little Jack Horner were setting the buffet with curds, whey, Christmas Pie, and low-fat hot cross buns. The guests had planned contests and games for all to enjoy, including candle-jumping, wall falling, and carving. No one even minded that Jack
Nimble, Humpty-Dumpty, and the Farmer’s Wife always won.

And then the lovely afternoon was spoiled by the unexpected arrival of the black sheep of the Pumpkin-eater family. This was the brother no one ever talked about. No one acknowledged the evil, xylophagous Ralph. He was far worse than his brother Peter, even with Peter’s domestic violence problems. Not only did Ralph live in a pine coffin, but he ate toothpicks, old false teeth, tent stakes, popsicle sticks, and park benches. Worst of all, his name was anathema to all present, as “Ralph” does not rhyme with any word in the English language. The unfortunately named Ralph was an outcast to his people.

**********************
Short and sweet.

xylophagous / zeye – LOF – ag – us / Feeding on or in wood.