mestizo

another new word for me

Definition of mestizo:
“mes·ti·zo (mĕs-tē'zō)

n. A person of mixed racial ancestry, especially of mixed European and Native American ancestry.

[Spanish, mixed, mestizo, from Old Spanish, mixed, from Late Latin mixtīcius, from Latin mixtus, past participle of miscēre, to mix.]” (answers.com).

Where I ran across it:
10/29/31 NYT op-ed column, “American Stories” by Roger Cohen.

“…He is the providential mestizo whose name — O-Ba-Ma — has the three-syllable universality of some child’s lullaby.…”

My two cents:
We’re in the home stretch kids. The presidential election is in a few short days. I’ve had more than my fill of all the campaigning drama, most especially the desperate, last minute mud-slinging and frantic finger-pointing. I’m not naming names. I’m just sayin.’ Enough already.

Roger Cohen’s beautiful op-ed piece is a rare and quiet gift in these raucous last few days before the election. You simply must read it. I can only say thanks, and thanks again – thanks for the new word, but thanks mostly for the eloquent calm within the storm.

synecdoche

Color me clueless.

Definition of synecdoche:
“[si‐nek‐dŏki], a common figure of speech (or trope) by which something is referred to indirectly, either by naming only some part or constituent of it (e.g. ‘hands’ for manual labourers) or—less often—by naming some more comprehensive entity of which it is a part (e.g. ‘the law’ for a police officer). Usually regarded as a special kind of metonymy, synecdoche occurs frequently in political journalism (e.g.‘Moscow’ for the Russian government) and sports commentary (e.g. ‘Liverpool’ for one of that city's football teams), but also has literary uses like Dickens's habitual play with bodily parts: the character of Mrs Merdle in Little Dorrit is referred to as ‘the Bosom’.” (answers.com).

Where I ran across it:
10/24/08 NYT movie review, “Dreamer, Live in the Here and Now” by Mahnola Dargis, about the new movie “Synecdoche, New York.”

“…To say that Charlie Kaufman’s “Synecdoche, New York” is one of the best films of the year or even one closest to my heart is such a pathetic response to its soaring ambition that I might as well pack it in right now. …”

My two cents:
My friend, Cheryl, emailed me this awesome word, swearing she had never heard of it before. (Me, neither!) She didn’t tell me where she had seen it, but as soon as I opened my NYT for the day, there it was, big as life, in the movie reviews. It’s in the title of Charlie Kaufman’s new movie, “Synecdoche, New York” (not to be confused with, but pronounced with the same accents as Schenectady, New York. Coincidence? I think not.). What a great two-fer: not only is this a wonderful word, but rarely does one get the opportunity to piggy-back off the lessons learned just the day before (see yesterday’s blog entry: “tropism/trope” and today’s definition which includes “trope”). Schweet!!

What I gather from Dargis’ review is that this artsy, weird, non-linear, fascinating flick sounds like an existential cross between Hollywood's “The Truman Show,” Miller's “Death of a Salesman,” Shakespeare's "As You Like It," Sartre's “No Exit,” and an M.C. Escher "Impossible Drawing." It probably won’t make it to my small town. Too obtuse for our mainstream theaters, no doubt. But I’m going to make a point of finding it, and going to see it. Any movie that plants cerebral insider clues to its raison d’etre in, say, the lead character’s last name, Cotard, (go Google it!) is noteworthy in my book. ("The Simpsons," sophomoric as it is, earns my undying respect for similar genius, as in one episode when Marge’s prison uniform bears a number which, in fact, is Jean Valjean’s number in Les Miz. All hail the clever, esoteric inside joke!).

One of the lines from the “Synecdoche, New York” trailer says, “There are millions of people in the world and none of those people is an extra. They’re all leads in their own stories.” What a great tease for all of us Everymen/women. It strikes me as incredibly provocative; insightful, although not necessarily comforting. Feeling like an insignificant speck, a nobody? Buck up, pal. Remember: you are the lead in your own story. Cue the lights! All the world's a stage! Now get out there, sonny, and make us proud! But hey, no pressure, or anything…

tropism

Here’s a word I thought I knew -- and didn’t.

Definition of tropism:
n. (trohp-ism) “an involuntary orienting response; positive or negative reaction to a stimulus source ... The turning or bending movement of an organism or a part toward or away from an external stimulus, such as light, heat, or gravity.” (answers.com).

Not to be confused with the word, “trope,” which means:

n.

1. "A figure of speech using words in non-literal ways, such as a metaphor.
2. A word or phrase interpolated as an embellishment in the sung parts of certain medieval liturgies.
3. 1533, from L. tropus "a figure of speech," from Gk. tropos "turn, direction, turn or figure of speech," related to trope "a turning" and tropein "to turn," from PIE base trep- "to turn" (cf. Skt. trapate "is ashamed, confused," prop. "turns away in shame;" L. trepit "he turns"). Technically, in rhetoric, a figure of speech which consists in the use of a word or phrase in a sense other than that which is proper to it." (answers.com)
   

Where I ran across it:
10/21/08 NYT article, “Patio Man Revisited” by David Brooks.

“…But, most of all, there is a tropism toward order and stability. …”

My two cents:
Lesson for today: while different, trope and tropism still have the same meaning at their root: “Turn.”

Wait. I’m having a moment. “Turns” are popping, uninvited, into my head. It’s a veritable free-association fest in there:

Turn around bright eyes…

To everything turn, turn, turn…

Turn around and you’re tiny, turn around and you’re grown…

Turn your radio on…

Like a carousel that's turning, Running rings around the moon (...like the windmills of your mind)

And finally: “In olden days a hint of stocking was looked on as something shocking, now Heaven knows, anything goes…” I suppose this has absolutely nothing to do with turning, but I'm not editing this free-association fest. It's coming straight off the ol' ticker tape. Lucky you. Wait, I take that back. Metaphorically speaking, it has everything to do with turning. Ooh, look, a trope.

Somewhere along the way, we took a wrong turn. As The World Turns (upside down), our stomachs churn over an economy that has taken seriously ill, and is taking a daily turn for the worse. It's taken some time and effort, but thanks to greed, avarice, stupidity and denial, we have managed to dig ourselves an enormous economic hole. The once thriving economic worm has now turned, and we find ourselves looking straight into the gaping maw of uncharted madness. Banks, mortgage companies, big retail stores are going under daily, and dispossessed homeowners are turning their keys in their locks for the last time. Our economy is a nightmare, a bad joke. Wall Street's "turned funny," too. Nobody’s laughing. It’s a veritable, stomach-turning, blood-curdling “Turn of the Screw” horror story that has, indeed, “held us round the fire, sufficiently breathless.” Don’t hold your breath, people. It’s going to take some time to turn this boat around. This is no time for panic.

But Who Can We Turn To? Where destiny leads us, of course, where steady hand and calm head prevail. For life-saving sustenance and holy guidance I'm turning back, forswearing my foolish ways, and falling prostrate on the altar of the One, the Only: Warren Buffett. He has already written a re-assuring, post-apocalyptic epistle to the world in last week's NYT. Thanks be to Buffett. Amen.

Time’s up, kids. Pencils down. We've turned in our papers, and have failed miserably. We turn away in shame. The test of time, turns out, is a real bitch.

tautological

I really couldn't define this word, which surprises me because it is so familiar. I sure can define it now.

Definition of tautological:
“adj. Characterized by repetition and excessive wordiness: circumlocutionary, roundabout. See repetition, words.” (answers.com).

"n., pl. –gies
--Use of redundant language that adds no information.

--Logic. An empty or vacuous statement composed of simpler statements in a fashion that makes it logically true whether the simpler statements are factually true or false; for example, the statement Either it will rain tomorrow or it will not rain tomorrow.

--Poetry. The unnecessary and excessive repetition of the same idea in different words in the same sentence, as "The room was completely dark and had no illumination," or "A breeze greeted the dusk and nightfall was heralded by a gentle wind." (answers.com)

Where I ran across it:
l0/5/08 Fox News article, “SNL Slices, Dices Palin and Biden in Debate Sendup.”

“…If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, Fey's presentation of Palin as a Bible-thumping, beauty queen with a tautological belief system suggests the comedy show loves the Alaska governor.…”

My two cents:
I’ll keep this short and to the point.

Sadly, the world now has a new, updated definition. Tautological = Sarah Palin. ‘Nuff said, wink-wink.

And by the way, here’s a shout-out to Sarah: It’s “nuclear." NU-CLE-AR!! How hard can that be?

Doggone it.

meme

It’s a familiar word to me, but what does it mean?

Definition of meme:
“n. (mēme) a unit of cultural information, such as a cultural practice or idea, that is transmitted verbally or by repeated action from one mind to another.

[Shortening (modeled on GENE) of mimeme, from Greek mimēma, something imitated, from mimeisthai, to imitate. See mimesis.]” (answers.com).

Where I ran across it:
9/4/08 Vanity Fair’s Politics and Power Blog, “Cindy McCain’s $300,000 Outfit”.

“…One of the persistent memes in the Republican line of attack against Barack Obama is the notion that he is an elitist, whereas the G.O.P. represent real working Americans like Levi “F-in’ Redneck” Johnston.…”

My two cents:
Certain Republicans have come a long way since the days of Pat Nixon’s sensible cloth coat, haven’t they? Vanity Fair has dished the dirt on Cindy McCain’s and Laura Bush’s Republican convention attire the other night, and frankly, I’m aghast. Six figures! Each! Or maybe I’m just jealous. I guess if I had Cindy’s money (and Cindy’s houses) I’d wear Oscar de la Renta, too. Just not on the night I was supposed to get the American public to relate to me and elect my husband.

Only two more months until the post-election dawn of November 5^th delivers some sweet relief from all this election frenzy. Unless, of course, we get into a dicey situation like Al Gore and W. did in '00 on account of the Floridians and their hanging chads. What a mess that was. Nobody got any relief for weeks, and the victor was ultimately chosen not by the popular vote but by the Electoral College and the Supreme Court. Talk about an eye opener. I got a little jaded about the election process after that. Maybe I have control issues.

Anyway, the question I have about the word, meme, is this: why is there no synonym for it in Microsoft Word? Try it yourself. Type “meme” in Word and right click and select Synonyms. See? It says, “No Suggestions.” Weird, huh?

Maybe Word's great and powerful Synonyms Oz is simply clueless, and just needs somebody to make a suggestion.

Maybe that goes for certain Republicans, too.

anodyne

This is one of those slippery words that I think I know but when pressed can’t actually define.

Definition of anodyne:
“adj. Capable of soothing or eliminating pain.
n. A medicine, such as aspirin, that relieves pain. A source of soothing comfort.” (answers.com).

Where I ran across it:
8/29/08 Time Magazine article about the recent Democratic convention in Denver, “The Convention: Redefining Change” by David Von Drehle.

“…Left on the altar of the anodyne was a much more interesting convention that might have been.…”

My two cents:
We’re in the thick of it now, children. It’s drama drama drama in American politics, and it’s riveting. It’s historic. It’s head-spinning one-upsmanship at its highest and best.

An unprecedented extravaganza that was the Democratic convention just concluded in Denver. There were surprises: Obama’s VP pick, unveiled in a pointedly new-age way via text message and email, is the affable, yet older, wiser, and better connected Washington career politician, Joe Biden. How this squares with the buzzword du campaign, "change," I have no idea.

There were speeches: Hillary took the high road. An ailing Ted summoned the Kennedy strength to deliver a rousing oratory. Michelle didn’t put her foot in it. Thankfully, Jesse didn’t speak at all, but his son did. Now that was a change for the better.

There were cheers and tears: Obama’s acceptance speech, delivered on the very anniversary of Dr. King’s “I Have a Dream” speech, was moved to Mile High Stadium to accommodate a crowd of over 75,000.

There were amazing visuals and there was music. There were fireworks, and people like Cheryl Crowe and John Legend performed. The soaring set, with its Doric columns, was so grand it was dubbed, “Barackopolis.” The stage boasted an expansive staircase of concentric circular steps carpeted in brilliant, Presidential blue.

It was the political version of an all-out Vegas spectacle, minus the dancing showgirls.

Lord, what drama.

And there was something else no one saw coming. No sooner did Barack Obama have us all "up in that," the very next morning John McCain grabbed the drama flag and ran with it. In a spectacularly stunning display of stop-the-presses one-upsmanship, McCain announced his choice for his Vice Presidential running mate: a woman. A young woman. With big hair and 5 kids. Governor of Alaska, no less (How does she do it? How will she do this?). They made their announcement the old fashioned way, at a podium with a microphone. No text messages or emails for ol' John the Luddite who admitted to a reporter that he had gone on the internet for the first time last week, and had no idea what Google was. But while a grinning, crazy-like-a-fox McCain displayed near-perfect comportment standing at the young and dewy Sarah Palin’s side (was he, or was he not, checking out her derriere?), deep down he must have been doing the happy dance, thumbing his nose at the Democrats, and laughing his ass off. All this, and the Republicans have yet to convene.

But wait, there's more. Snatching the drama flag from McCain's very grasp and upstaging everybody is a nasty villain named Gustav, a Cat 3 hurricane heading straight for New Orleans.

Lord, Lord, the drama. Pass me an anodyne, and give us all strength.

manque

Never heard this word in my life.

Definition of manqué:
adj. (män-kā´)

Unfulfilled or frustrated in the realization of one's ambitions or capabilities: an artist manqué; a writer manqué. Synonym: would-be.” (answers.com).

Where I ran across it:
8/10/08 NYT op-ed piece by Maureen Dowd, “Keeping it Rielle,” a spot-on assessment of Democratic candidate John Edwards and his recently revealed sexual misconduct.

“…The president manqué gives Rielle Hunter, formerly Lisa Druck, more than $114,000 to shoot vain little videos for his Web site …”

My two cents:
Once again, Maureen Dowd brings it on: a new word for my vocabulary, and a fabulous article to boot.

I’m so sick of politicians who cheat on their wives. The latest stupid political man-pig is John Edwards. I don’t even know where to start with him. I'm so exasperated, I'm positively speechless. I need a chill pill.

Fortunately, Maureen Dowd’s column says it all so perfectly that I need not even try to gild the lily here.

So, go read. It’s just too good to miss.