carapace

Wish I could say I know this word, but I can’t, ‘cause I don’t

Definition of carapace:
1. “Zoology. A hard bony or chitinous outer covering, such as the fused dorsal plates of a turtle or the portion of the exoskeleton covering the head and thorax of a crustacean.

2. A protective, shell-like covering likened to that of a turtle or crustacean.

3. The ultimate thick skin: if you've got one you're protected against sticks, stones and name-calling.” (answers.com).

Where I ran across it:
7/18/08 NYT movie review,“Showdown in Gotham Town,” by Manohla Dargis, about the new Batman movie, "The Dark Knight."

“…In and out of his black carapace and on the restless move, Batman remains, perhaps not surprisingly then, a recessive, almost elusive figure. …”

My two cents:
While the movie is technically the “star” of Manohla Dargis’ review, there’s another contender: the review itself. This writer is on my short list of favorites. Go read her stuff and you’ll see why. Thing of beauty. Girl can flat turn a phrase.

And the word, "carapace" is really playing with me. See Definition 3. I’m suddenly grappling with the gentle reminder that there’s a world of difference between pretending to have a thick skin, and actually having one. So while you’re reading Ms. Dargis’ review, I’ll be busy searching for a clue, and a carapace.

Something tells me I won’t find them on ebay or craigslist. Damn.

desultory

I know this word, but I never use it. Probably because I keep forgetting it exists, not to mention forgetting what it means. That’s sad. Gonna fix that.

Definition of desultory:
1. “Having no set plan; haphazard or random.”
2. “Moving or jumping from one thing to another; disconnected: a desultory speech.” (answers.com).

Where I ran across it:
7/13/08 NYT article, “Happy Birthday, Milton” by Stanley Fish

“…Milton’s poetry never lets you relax . Even when one of the famous similes wanders down what appears to be a desultory path of mythical allusions and idealized landscapes, it always returns you in the end to the moral perspective that had only apparently been suspended.…”

My two cents:
I’ve been aware of the word, “desultory” since the 60s when I was a budding boomer and Simon and Garfunkel were strumming away, singing “A Simple Desultory Philippic (Or How I Was Robert McNamara’d Into Submission).” Man, those were the days. They just don’t write ‘em like they used to. Where have all the flowers gone, anyway?

Stanley Fish’s column in yesterday's NYT is his report from London’s Ninth International Milton Symposium, where a bunch of professional John Milton-ophiles gather every year to whoop it up and have a rockin’ good time with 17^th century literature. Woh. Maybe this crowd, and Fish's column, are just a tad over-the-top-cerebral, but that's ok. They made me realize I didn’t know much about Milton, and I don’t recall ever reading his epic poem, “Paradise Lost,” (remember, Art School vs. Harvard?). So, I’ve just been on a merry lark of my own at PinkMonkey.com to read the annotated version. Really interesting. Milton is pretty deep. And wide. Heaven and Hell and Eternity and all that. Dante’s got nothin’ on this guy.

Fully edified, I then skipped off to research my boys, S&G, and their curious song from my nostalgic past. Check out what I found at Random House’s Word of the Day website (quoting here):

“In Roman times, a desultor was a skilled horseman who could vault from horse to horse mid-gallop--a fitting image for a conversational ‘leaper’ who flits from topic to topic.

A Philippic (spelled with one l and usually capitalized) is a spoken or written diatribe against whatever it is you feel that strongly about--be it a person, an idea, or a course of action, although the term Philippic was originally confined to a denunciation of a person. It comes from Demosthenes’ 4th century B.C. orations against Philip, the king of Macedon (who was the father of Alexander the Great), delivered to the men of Athens.

Paul Simon’s 1966 lyrics for ‘A Simple Desultory Philippic, or How I was Robert McNamara’d Into Submission’ are a little different from his 1964 version, which is in the Paul Simon Songbook. That one has Lyndon Johnson in the subtitle, and is a little nastier. Robert McNamara - President Johnson’s Secretary for Defense, one of his three special advisors on the growing war in Vietnam and arguably the most disastrous of the trio - replaced Lyndon Johnson in the song’s lengthy subtitle on the 1966 Simon & Garfunkel album Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme.

Here are the first and last verses:

I been Norman Mailered, Maxwell Taylored.
I been John O'Hara'd, McNamara'd.
I been Rolling Stoned and Beatled till I'm blind.
I been Ayn Randed, nearly branded
Communist, 'cause I'm left-handed.
That's the hand I use, well, never mind!
...
I been Mick Jaggered, silver daggered.
Andy Warhol, won't you please come home?
I been mothered, fathered, aunt and uncled,
Been Roy Haleed and Art Garfunkeled.
I just discovered somebody's tapped my phone.”

Granted, Milton and his 17th century poetry are certainly a trip. But so are Simon & Garfunkel, and the 60s. Now those were the days, my friend. (But that's another song, altogether.)

And I think I just wrote a desultory blog entry. Why, yes, yes I did.

capo

I know this word only in the musical sense. Surprise.

Definition of capo:
“1. A small movable bar placed across the fingerboard of a guitar or similar instrument so as to raise the pitch of all the strings uniformly.
2. The head of a branch of an organized crime syndicate. [Italian, from Latin caput, head.”(answers.com).

Where I ran across it:
Frank Rich’s 7/13/08 NYT op-ed column, “The Real-Life ‘24’ of Summer 2008,” on Jane Mayer's scary new Washington tell-all book, "The Dark Side."

“…No wonder the former Rumsfeld capo, Douglas Feith, is trying to discredit a damaging interview he gave to the British lawyer Philippe Sands for another recent and essential book on what happened, “Torture Team.…”

My two cents:
OK, you watch The Sopranos. Or you know – or you ARE – one. Or your vocabulary is just better than mine. So you’re not surprised by definition number two. Badda bing, good for you. You. You got a talent.

Maybe you also already know what Frank Rich has to say in his fairly alarmist op-ed column about Jane Mayer's book exposing the wise guy tactics employed by the current administration. If so, score another one for you, pal. If not, maybe you should read the column, and Jane Mayer's book -- and weep.

Cue the mandolins and cross yourself. It ain't pretty.

trenchant

Thought I knew this word. Guess not.

Definition of trenchant:
adjective
“1. Possessing or displaying perceptions of great accuracy and sensitivity: acute, incisive, keen, penetrating, perceptive, probing, sensitive, sharp.

2. So sharp as to cause mental pain: acerbic, acid, acidic, acrid, astringent, biting, caustic, corrosive, cutting, mordacious, mordant, pungent, scathing, sharp, slashing, stinging, truculent, vitriolic.” (answers.com).

Where I ran across it:
7/9/08 NYT article, “Dreams of Laura” by Maureen Dowd, about “American Wife,” a fictionalized biography of First Lady Laura Bush etal.

“…Ms. Sittenfeld was not out to sensationalize but sympathize. The portraits of Laura and W. — known as Alice and Charlie Blackwell here — are trenchant and make you like them more.…”

My two cents:
I’ll admit right here I had this one wrong. I always thought trenchant meant something akin to relevant, germane, applicable, significant. Apparently not. And now I am flummoxed. Check out definitions 1 and 2 above. How does the same word have two so totally opposite meanings? What do you think about the possibility of being “sensitive” and “vitriolic” at the same time? Is that really achievable? Maybe it means that you are being sensitive to the fact that there’s some trash talk going on, and… you’re the one talking?? Clearly I need a clue on this one.

And apparently all it takes to avoid invading someone’s privacy, or worse, engaging in libel and slander, is to write stuff you know about people, make up the rest, assign them pseudonyms, and call the whole thing a fictional biography. Boom. Tom Wolfe did it with “A Man in Full.” James Frey did it but didn't admit it with “A Million Little Pieces”. Too bad for him. Shoulda woulda coulda. Fictional biographies certainly are successful these days, and I'm sure "Dreams of Laura" is no exception. Entertaining? No doubt. But, trenchant? Hell if I know.