Michael Gates's Blog, page 21
February 21, 2016
Random Sequence: exsufflicate
"Exchange me for a goat
When I shall turn the business of my soul
To such exsufflicate and blowed surmises,
Matching thy inference."
--William Shakespeare, Othello, Act 3, Scene 3
exsufflicate (adjective) = inflated, empty or full of nothing but air
I think most surmises are exsufflicate, don't you? Still, being exchanged for a goat seems excessive.
When I shall turn the business of my soul
To such exsufflicate and blowed surmises,
Matching thy inference."
--William Shakespeare, Othello, Act 3, Scene 3
exsufflicate (adjective) = inflated, empty or full of nothing but air
I think most surmises are exsufflicate, don't you? Still, being exchanged for a goat seems excessive.
February 19, 2016
Link Mania: Are You an "Internaut"?
You too may be an "internaut".https://ohmyword.xyz/inspiration/best...
Posted by The Word I'm Thinking Of on Thursday, February 18, 2016
February 15, 2016
Photo of the Week (by me): Buddha Stone
Inspired by a meditation class I'm taking. Stare at it while you concentrate on your breathing. You know you want to.
February 13, 2016
Story Cubes 14: Shooting (fiction)
I was his guardian now, after the shooting. We would talk about anything, little Thaddeus and I, while we sat on the living room rug, in the dark, with a flashlight. Thaddeus thought of it as a sort of magic wand. We would sometimes make shadows on the wall, but most often he would draw with the beam, and I would try to guess what he depicted.
That night, one of them was swooping U shape -- a horseshoe? A rainbow? No, a magnet he said. That led to a discussion of electromagnetism. He wondered if it would be possible to build an electromagnetic weapon, a gun that would shoot a beam, like a tiny lightning bolt, through a keyhole.
"Maybe," I said. "But why would you want to do that?" I asked.
"To stun people. Not kill them."
"And why would you want to do that?"
"So nobody would ever need bullets again."
###
(The bold-faced words are interpreted from the images on Rory's Story Cubes)
That night, one of them was swooping U shape -- a horseshoe? A rainbow? No, a magnet he said. That led to a discussion of electromagnetism. He wondered if it would be possible to build an electromagnetic weapon, a gun that would shoot a beam, like a tiny lightning bolt, through a keyhole.
"Maybe," I said. "But why would you want to do that?" I asked.
"To stun people. Not kill them."
"And why would you want to do that?"
"So nobody would ever need bullets again."
###
(The bold-faced words are interpreted from the images on Rory's Story Cubes)
January 26, 2016
Link Mania: Can I have an 'umbeclap'? And some 'dilithium'?
11 Words for Fictional Substances
Including "dilithium", which may not be quite as fictional as everyone thinks.
~~~
The inventive words and worlds of Edgar Allan Poe and H.P. Lovecraft
Is your poetry "poeish", "poe-like", "poe-esque", or "poeist"?
~~~
14 ways to hug
...or at least to say hug. Ask someone you love if you can have an "umbeclap" today. And after getting the umbeclap, take penicillin.
~~~
56 synonyms for "talkative person"
Parakeet? They forgot "blabbermouth" and "motormouth".
Including "dilithium", which may not be quite as fictional as everyone thinks.
~~~
The inventive words and worlds of Edgar Allan Poe and H.P. Lovecraft
Is your poetry "poeish", "poe-like", "poe-esque", or "poeist"?
~~~
14 ways to hug
...or at least to say hug. Ask someone you love if you can have an "umbeclap" today. And after getting the umbeclap, take penicillin.
~~~
56 synonyms for "talkative person"
Parakeet? They forgot "blabbermouth" and "motormouth".
January 19, 2016
Random Sequence: swoopstake
"Good Laertes,
If you desire to know the certainty
Of your dear father's death, is't writ in your revenge,
That, swoopstake, you will draw both friend and foe,
Winner and loser?"
--William Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act IV, scene 5
swoopstake (adverb) = indiscriminately, without distinctions
I want to work this word into conversation and then savor all the puzzled faces.
If you desire to know the certainty
Of your dear father's death, is't writ in your revenge,
That, swoopstake, you will draw both friend and foe,
Winner and loser?"
--William Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act IV, scene 5
swoopstake (adverb) = indiscriminately, without distinctions
I want to work this word into conversation and then savor all the puzzled faces.
January 18, 2016
Photo of the Week: Winter Is Here (by me)
This is the rock pile in my backyard. Don't ask me why I have a rock pile in my backyard, but click on the pic for a closer view. You know you want to.
January 2, 2016
Word of the Day: mooncalf
What's the word I'm thinking of? Today, it's....
mooncalf [MOON-kaf] (noun) [TWITO, page 90]
A freak or monster; a fool, a daydreamer
"Instead of a purse or a bubble, which incloses the foetus, there was a globulous body like a moon-calf, or false-conception, which contained nothing organized, and which being opened presented nothing different from a moon-calf, nothing that was any way formed or regularly disposed...."
--Anonymous, "On the Formation of a Chicken in the Egg" in London Magazine (1752)
mooncalf [MOON-kaf] (noun) [TWITO, page 90]
A freak or monster; a fool, a daydreamer
"Instead of a purse or a bubble, which incloses the foetus, there was a globulous body like a moon-calf, or false-conception, which contained nothing organized, and which being opened presented nothing different from a moon-calf, nothing that was any way formed or regularly disposed...."
--Anonymous, "On the Formation of a Chicken in the Egg" in London Magazine (1752)
December 29, 2015
Fiction Repeat: "Diastolic Boisterousness"
It was time for another holiday dinner at the Brinkerhoff manse. Young Spencer, the black sheep of the family, was not looking forward to it. His father was a fishing boat captain and had no respect at all for Spencer's profession -- that of dictionary editor.
As the family sat down to a repast of brazed sailfish and checkered chitlings, the patriarch began to deliver his traditional rodomontade, which, as usual, was filled with imbecilic windiness. No one paid much attention, though. Spencer's comely sister, Adelia, exhibited her usual luminescent lassitude, with her chin planted firmly on her palm. His long-suffering mother, Philida, simply stared into the tureen of mashed potatoes.
Spencer, who fancied himself the Brinkerhoff's closest approximation to an upscale cutup, decided he'd had enough of his father's complaints about the fluctuating price of flounder. "I dig a sorrel pintaloosa!" he suddenly shouted, though he wasn't sure why. They were words he had been working on for the new edition of the dictionary, and they had simply come to him. His father halted in mid sentence and glared menacingly. Spencer was sure he had sounded like an adenoidal landlubber engaging in undignified ebullition to everyone at the table.
"What? What kind of fish is that?" Captain Brinkerhoff demanded. "It's not a fish!" replied Spencer. "Look it uuuupppp!" he bellowed, pounding the table with what he intended to be a raffish drub.
His diastolic boisterousness had the intended effect. His mother and sister began to giggle, nervously at first, then uncontrollably. And Captain Brinkerhoff was uncharacteristically silent for the duration of the feast.
As the family sat down to a repast of brazed sailfish and checkered chitlings, the patriarch began to deliver his traditional rodomontade, which, as usual, was filled with imbecilic windiness. No one paid much attention, though. Spencer's comely sister, Adelia, exhibited her usual luminescent lassitude, with her chin planted firmly on her palm. His long-suffering mother, Philida, simply stared into the tureen of mashed potatoes.
Spencer, who fancied himself the Brinkerhoff's closest approximation to an upscale cutup, decided he'd had enough of his father's complaints about the fluctuating price of flounder. "I dig a sorrel pintaloosa!" he suddenly shouted, though he wasn't sure why. They were words he had been working on for the new edition of the dictionary, and they had simply come to him. His father halted in mid sentence and glared menacingly. Spencer was sure he had sounded like an adenoidal landlubber engaging in undignified ebullition to everyone at the table.
"What? What kind of fish is that?" Captain Brinkerhoff demanded. "It's not a fish!" replied Spencer. "Look it uuuupppp!" he bellowed, pounding the table with what he intended to be a raffish drub.
His diastolic boisterousness had the intended effect. His mother and sister began to giggle, nervously at first, then uncontrollably. And Captain Brinkerhoff was uncharacteristically silent for the duration of the feast.
December 28, 2015
Photo of the Week: Bricks (by me)
Because moss. In December. Click for a closer view. You have nothing better to do.
