Friday, October 12, 2012

“The necessary limitations
of our nature”

W. H. Auden:

Between the ages of twenty and forty we are engaged in the process of discovering who we are, which involves learning the difference between accidental limitations which it is our duty to outgrow and the necessary limitations of our nature beyond which we cannot trespass with impunity.

From the essay “Reading,” in The Dyer’s Hand and Other Essays (1962).
The ages might vary, but it’s sound advice. It reminds me — don’t laugh — of what management consultant Peter Drucker says in Managing Oneself (2008): that we must figure out our strengths and values and ways of working, and be who we are.


[“Peabody here.” Mister Peabody, at peace with the necessary limitations of his nature.]

When I was a much, much younger fellow, perhaps just a tad bookish, my so-called peers bestowed upon me the nickname Mister Peabody. Ugh. But now I celebrate the Peabodily elements of my style.

Other Auden posts
On handwriting and typing
Six lines from Auden

Britishisms

I was delighted beyond reason this past summer when a Scot called me mate. But I think I’ve typed my last cheers. The New York Times reports on America’s slippery slope into Britishisms.

Word of the day: malarkey

From a New York Times editorial:

Vice President Joseph Biden Jr. would not sit still for a parade of misleading and often blatantly untruthful descriptions of the state of the economy and the Republican prescriptions for it. Though his grins and head-shakes were often distracting, he did not hesitate to interrupt and demand an end to “malarkey.”
The Oxford English Dictionary defines it:
Humbug, bunkum, nonsense; a palaver, racket. (Usually of an event, activity, idea, utterance, etc., seen as trivial, misleading, or not worthy of consideration.)
One might say that malarkey is Irish for bullshit, but that would be malarkey. The OED notes that “A surname Mullarkey, of Irish origin, exists, but no connection is known between any person of that name and this word.”

Thursday, October 11, 2012

Live-blogging the debate

You go, Joe Biden.

Fall Peanuts


[Peanuts, October 8, 1970. Click for a larger view.]

I’ve had the October 7, 2004 reprint of this strip taped to the side of a reading carrel since, well, uh, 2004.

Other Peanuts posts
Milk bottles
Schulz’s Beethoven

Red Rose Irish Breakfast

An excellent tea with a deep, strong flavor and not a trace of bitterness. Better than Twinings Irish Breakfast, and cheap.

All tea posts (Pinboard)

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Bicycles, streetcars, annular systems

Justin Hollander cautions against ditching “good old paper,” pointing out that the merits of such once-passé technologies as bicycles and streetcars have of late been recognized anew. I’m reminded of the trope of the “annular system” in David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest. One example from the novel: telephone users who take to videophones return at last to “good old voice-only telephoning.”

And about words on paper: when Elaine and I were browsing in an excellent used-book store a couple of weeks ago, we noticed that every other customer — and there were many — was a young (or younger) adult, digging the pages.

Related reading
All paper posts (Pinboard)

Mitt Romney debates himself

Yes, the candidates disagree: Mitt Romney debates himself.

Word of the day: apotropaic

A wonderful word from the Greek: apotropaic. It has something to do with turning, yes? But what? Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate has the etymology: “Greek apotropaios, from apotrepein to avert, from apo- + trepein to turn.” That which is apotropaic is “designed to avert evil,” to turn it away. It’s curious and fitting that the thing averted forms no part of the word itself. Speak no evil.

Apotropaic got me thinking about apo-, which has a range of meanings: away from, off; detached, separate; formed from, related to. Thus for instance, apocalypse, to uncover, disclose. And I now see that word in a new way, as I recall that the name Calypso in Homer’s Odyssey is related to the verb kaluptein, to cover. Keeping Odysseus on her island, removed from human culture, Calypso is a concealer, a burier.

Wikipedia has a page on apotropaic magic, with photographs of painted eyes averting evil. I got thinking about apotropaic during a trip to a museum, where I saw the word in a description of an ancient Greek drinking bowl.

Sniffing out word origins

“I found myself wondering recently whether the word odor has negative connotations or not. This led me to write a list of other nouns pertaining to that sense we exercise with our noses”: Daughter Number Three investigates the origins of words that name smells and finds a clear pattern.