The Alitos and revenge

Timothy Snyder (On Tyranny) writes about “Modern revenge culture, explained by Mrs. and Mr. Alito.”

Here are the Alitos as caught on recordings: Mr. and Mrs.

An aside: the Sacred Heart flag that Mrs. Alito would like to fly is widely understood as a counter to the pride flag. A cursory search will confirm that. See, for instance, a comment left on a webpage selling a Sacred Heart flag.

One more kwoi

[From New Universal Self-Pronouncing Dictionary (Chicago: John C. Winston, 1943).]

Click on the image for a larger kwoi sound. As in macOS Sequoia. Thanks, Kevin, for entrusting me with this beautiful little dictionary.

A related post
macOS Something (How to pronounce sequoia )

Eugene Robinson asks a question

In The Washington Post (gift link): “Is Trump okay?” The answer, which Robinson doesn’t quite voice: No.

New directions in footwear

[Click for a larger size.]

Kids say the darndest things: my Merrell Moab Adventure 3 shoes have been renamed “jungle shoes.”

See also New directions in apparel for “Papa’s gentleman shirts.”

[Image from Zappos, from whom I’ve bought two (three?) pairs of jungle shoes.]

“AI and the Death of Student Writing”

In The Chronicle of Higher Education, Lisa Lieberman, a community-college instructor, writes about “AI and the Death of Student Writing”:

I called the student in and asked him to write a sentence with the word “depiction.” He admitted he didn’t know what “depiction” meant, much less how to spell it, much less how to use it in a sentence. He confessed he hadn’t written a single word of the essay.

Another student complained when I gave her a zero for using AI. She said, “I don’t know why you’re picking on me. I turned in all my assignments on time. And I never used AI.”

It was true she hadn’t used AI, but when I pressed her, she admitted to using Grammarly.

And it turns out for a small monthly fee, Grammarly can do much more than identify errors in grammar and spelling.

Recently updated

Harvard, Meta, and veritas The story of a misinformation expert and misinformation.

macOS Something

The new version of the Mac operating system is called macOS Sequoia.

Apple says /sə 'koiə/. You can hear it in the WWDC24 presentation.

The American Heritage Dictionary (online) gives the pronunciation as /sĭ-kwoi′ə/.

Merriam-Webster (online) gives /si-'kwoi-ə/.

Both British English pronunciations in the Oxford English Dictionary have the kw sound: /sɪˈkwəʊɪə/ and /sɪˈkwɔɪə/. (I’m reproducing each dictionary’s phonetic spellings as given.)

The New Oxford American Dictionary (on the Mac) has /sə'koiə/ for the tree and /sə'kwoiə/ for the Cherokee scholar.

I’ve rarely said sequoia, but when I have, I’ve said it with the kw.

Apple can choose whatever pronunciation it likes, just as Toyota can choose Prii (lol) as the plural of Prius. For anyone who balks at /sə 'koiə/, the simple choice would be to say macOS 15.

[I found myself willing to watch only a few scattered minutes of the WWDC24 event. When I saw an image of an iPhone with the prominent message CONNECT YOUR HAIR DRYER, I drew a line in the mental sand.]

How to improve writing (no. 122)

Elaine received yet another political text, and she noticed a pronoun:

Hi Elaine, it’s George Clooney. I’m proud to support President Biden and Vice President Harris, and I’m asking you to join me. Pitch in today for a chance to meet myself, Julia Roberts, President Biden, and President Obama.

There’s nothing wrong with me. George Clooney can meet himself only in a mirror, or in, say, a doppelganger-themed screenplay.

But that sentence is tricky: it’s customary to place me at the end of a series. Here though a terminal me might suggest a terminal case of egotism: Julia Roberts, President Biden, President Obama, and me. Me! So what might be a fix?

Hi Elaine, it’s George Clooney and Julia Roberts. As proud supporters of President Biden and Vice President Harris, we’re asking you to pitch in today for a chance to meet President Biden, President Obama, and the two of us.

Related reading
All OCA How to improve writing posts (Pinboard)

[This post is no. 122 in a series dedicated to improving stray bits of public prose.]

A Moleskine confession

After receiving a defective 2024 Moleskine pocket daily planner (sixteen days missing), I wrote three posts recounting my effort to receive a refund — 1, 2, 3 — and vowed that this year’s Moleskine would be my last. I wrote in that third post that I planned to switch to Letts or Leuchtturm for 2025.

But I caved. I now have a 2025 Moleskine sitting in a drawer. What can I say? The company’s response to customers (at least to this customer) is shoddy — I never received a reply to the letter I sent. But I like the product. Cream-colored paper is far more appealing to me than Letts’s bright white. Smaller size and darker print make Moleskine far more appealing to me than Leuchtturm. I also like the way the Moleskine looks like an ice-cream sandwich. And I can pronounce moleskine. Leuchtturm remains a tough one.

If it doesn’t go without saying: I opened the 2025 planner right away to check for problems. All days are accounted for.

Related reading
All OCA Moleskine posts (Pinboard)

Bodega

[54 E. 105th Street, Manhattan, c. 1939–1941. From the NYC Municipal Archives Collections. Click for a much larger view and many details.]

I often wish that tax photographs came with a smart-looking border all around. No soap. But you might find some for sale in that bodega, at the corner of 105th and Madison.

Here comes some history, paraphrased from the Oxford English Dictionary:

The Spanish bodega first meant a wine cellar, wine shop, or bar. Later, a warehouse. Finally, a grocery store. The word derives from the classical Latin apothēca, a storehouse.

The word’s first meaning in English (1702): a warehouse. By 1825, “a building for storing or ageing wine, sherry, etc.” or “an establishment producing wine, sherry, etc.; a wine producer; a winery.” By 1849,

esp. in Spanish-speaking countries: a bar; a tavern. In the late 19th century sometimes (with reference to establishments in Britain): a bar, shop, etc., specializing in the serving of wine.

The specific British sense may derive from the Bodega Spanish Wine Cellars, opened in 1868 in Manchester, which was soon followed by other similarly named establishments in other cities.

In Philippine English (1851), the word came to mean “a storeroom or storehouse forming part of a house or other building.

And here’s the kind of bodega I was looking for:

U.S. regional (originally New York City ). A small local shop, usually with long opening hours, where customers can buy a limited range of household goods and groceries; a convenience store.

The term was first used with reference to Puerto Rican-owned businesses in New York in the 1950s and 1960s, but is now used there more widely to refer to any local shop of this type.

It’s fair to say that the bodega has supplanted the candy store of yore, offering a wider variety of goods and groceries along with chopped cheese and other food items to go. And “ATM Inside.”

La Nacional Boedga y Carniceria is long gone, and the corner is now home to an enormous parking structure. But there’s a bodega right across the street, open from 6:00 or 8:00 a.m. to 1:00 a.m.

Related reading
More photographs from the NYC Municipal Archives (Pinboard)