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Scripturient: Where Have The Real Heroes Gone?

Heroes, it sometimes seems, have been relegated to legend and myth. There are none left, none of the sort I used to associate with the name. Not in the media, anyway. The word has been so abused in the media over the last century, tossed about in such a cavalier manner that it has lost . . . → Read More: Scripturient: Where Have The Real Heroes Gone?

PostArctica: Buffy Sainte-Marie

“”You talk about all the foster home kids, some of those parents they grew up without parents. They never knew a parent. How were they supposed to know how a family works? What they learned was how to be a bullying nun, how to be a pedophile priest, that’s what they learned. That’s what we’ve . . . → Read More: PostArctica: Buffy Sainte-Marie

PostArctica: Buffy Sainte-Marie

“”You talk about all the foster home kids, some of those parents they grew up without parents. They never knew a parent. How were they supposed to know how a family works? What they learned was how to be a bullying nun, how to be a pedophile priest, that’s what they learned. That’s what we’ve . . . → Read More: PostArctica: Buffy Sainte-Marie

PostArctica: To My Alien Abductor

To My Alien Abductor

Life sucks, life is awesome. Lucky. Didn’t ask to be born. But writing bad poetry. Makes this shit. More fun than a barrel of Monkeys. I’ve had. My ancestors. Would laugh. Because. I think. Well, You only go around once. lofuckingl. Augustine on your pillow. Plato on your bed. And all . . . → Read More: PostArctica: To My Alien Abductor

PostArctica: To My Alien Abductor

To My Alien Abductor

Life sucks, life is awesome. Lucky. Didn’t ask to be born. But writing bad poetry. Makes this shit. More fun than a barrel of Monkeys. I’ve had. My ancestors. Would laugh. Because. I think. Well, You only go around once. lofuckingl. Augustine on your pillow. Plato on your bed. And all . . . → Read More: PostArctica: To My Alien Abductor

centre of the universe: Logophile

Here is a list of some words that I love: Dulcet Irascible Fulsome Gar Luscious Worsted Peristalsis Apex Curmuffins* Bludgeon Trough Hollow Char Defenestration Lugubrious Metatarsal Coin Eustachian Zincofax Warble Interstitial Kinetic Yurt Jackanape (also: Jackdaw) Xeriscape Retard** Mope Umlaut Blaffard Haver Tandoori Slouch Cunt** Ramparts Opulent Perspicacity Romp Egregious Apogee Perilous Oscillate Mandible Creosote . . . → Read More: centre of the universe: Logophile

Scripturient: Blog & Commentary: What’s in a (Popular) Name?

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet.” Juliet, in Romeo and Juliet (II, ii, 1-2) A recent article in The Atlantic about how our names impact our lives got me to thinking about how and why we name our children – and what they . . . → Read More: Scripturient: Blog & Commentary: What’s in a (Popular) Name?

Scripturient: Blog & Commentary: Ruthful, funct and doleless

Why can’t someone be clueful, only clueless? Hapful, not simply hapless? Aweless instead of just awful? Ruthful not merely ruthless? Doleless, not just doleful? Gormful, not just gormless? We can be thoughtful or thoughtless, careful or careless, mindful and mindless. Why not ruthful and gormful? Why not the qualities of ruthiness, gormliness and doleliness? Can . . . → Read More: Scripturient: Blog & Commentary: Ruthful, funct and doleless

PostArctica: Sharing The Jug

PostArctica: Sharing The Jug

PostArctica: The Thing About

The thing about right wing believers they love a good fight good and evil black and white the extremities heroes and villains sinners and saints But when it comes to ordinary people and ordinary stories and all kinds of talk about what’s good and what’s right They get lost in the details the subtle gestures . . . → Read More: PostArctica: The Thing About

PostArctica: The Thing About

The thing about right wing believers they love a good fight good and evil black and white the extremities heroes and villains sinners and saints But when it comes to ordinary people and ordinary stories and all kinds of talk about what’s good and what’s right They get lost in the details the subtle gestures . . . → Read More: PostArctica: The Thing About

PostArctica: Community

My generation from Verdun grew up With Fathers who worked in factories and Mothers who, if they worked were in retail or service low paying respectable jobs.

To do better was a challenge in many, many ways these were awesome people of incredibly principled standards but fun loving people they were, too appreciated a joke . . . → Read More: PostArctica: Community

PostArctica: Community

My generation from Verdun grew up With Fathers who worked in factories and Mothers who, if they worked were in retail or service low paying respectable jobs.

To do better was a challenge in many, many ways these were awesome people of incredibly principled standards but fun loving people they were, too appreciated a joke . . . → Read More: PostArctica: Community

Scripturient: Blog & Commentary: Saving Fubsy from Lexicographical Caliginosity

Cousin Stephen, you will never be a saint. Isle of saints. You were awfully holy, weren’t you? You prayed to the Blessed Virgin that you might not have a red nose. You prayed to the devil in Serpentine avenue that the fubsy widow in front might lift her clothes still more from the wet street. . . . → Read More: Scripturient: Blog & Commentary: Saving Fubsy from Lexicographical Caliginosity

Scripturient: Blog & Commentary: Dictionaries: Concise, Compact, and dacoit

Dacoit: noun; one of a class of criminals in India and Burma who rob and murder in roving gangs. A member of a band of armed robbers in India or Burma. A bandit. Origin: Hindi and Urdu. I love dictionaries. I like opening them up to a random page and just reading, discovering words and . . . → Read More: Scripturient: Blog & Commentary: Dictionaries: Concise, Compact, and dacoit

Scripturient: Blog & Commentary: The Fretful Porpentine

Like quills upon the fretful porpentine. That phrase just makes the modern reader stop and wonder. What, you ask yourself, is a porpentine? And why is it fretful? We never learn, although later interpreters would knowingly tell us a porpentine is a porcupine in today’s argot. Porcupine itself dervices from the Old or Middle French . . . → Read More: Scripturient: Blog & Commentary: The Fretful Porpentine

Walking Turcot Yards: Stars

See that picture up top? That’s our waterfront, at least after they mandated the boat clubs to get rid of their shacks and put up those little lockers. It used to be quite the place down there. We’d get totally drunk and stoned just a little ways past the old folks home which would be . . . → Read More: Walking Turcot Yards: Stars

Walking Turcot Yards: Buried Horses – Tom Dacre’s Blues

Ashes fall from the chimney so maudlin. Sodden haunts returning thoughts to your flue. Did your body snap? Was it made of porcelain? Could my shakey hand prepare a splint to repair poor ghostly? Kindling. Little kindling. Lit a fire under. Kindling. Little kindling. Lit a fire under and over you. Winter came to . . . → Read More: Walking Turcot Yards: Buried Horses – Tom Dacre’s Blues

The Equivocator: 12 Words I (Re)Discovered in 2012

Defenestrate: To eject or throw (someone or something) from a window.

Kludge: an improvised device, usually crudely constructed. Typically used to test the validity of a principle before doing a finished design.

Portmanteau: Made by combining two (or more) words, stories, etc., in the manner of a linguistic portmanteau.

Tmesis: The insertion of one or . . . → Read More: The Equivocator: 12 Words I (Re)Discovered in 2012

Walking Turcot Yards: Idle No More

I wanna round dance neath the stars tonight I wanna stand up for what I believe tonight I wanna see peace in the skies tonight I wanna be love neath the stars tonight

. . . → Read More: Walking Turcot Yards: Idle No More

Chadwick's Blog & Commentary: Lost Worlds, Lost Words

Moidered. It sounds like something from the Three Stooges. Or maybe something Tony Soprano would say.”I moidered him.” But it actually means “crazed,” according to Samuel Johnson in his famous dictionary of 1755. It’s long since left the stage of English usage. … Continue reading →

The Scott Ross: Layton’s Last Words Were First Laurier’s

“Faith is better than doubt and love is better than hate.” – Sir Wilfrid Laurier, 1918 “Love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear.” – Jack Layton, 2011

A year after Jack Layton’s untimely passing, the presence of the former NDP Leader is still felt across Canada, ironically however it is . . . → Read More: The Scott Ross: Layton’s Last Words Were First Laurier’s

mark a rayner | scribblings, squibs & sundry monkey joys: The history of English in 10 minutes

This is really quite impressive, and even funny in many places: -via Jim Anderson, who’s book, DEADLINE, you should check out if you like mysteries. Alltop speaks funglish!

redjenny: The Power of Poetry

A while back, I posted a poem written by Drew Dillinger. It begins: it’s 3:23 in the morningand I’m awakebecause my great great grandchildrenwon’t let me sleepmy great great grandchildrenask me in dreamswhat did you do while the planet was plundered?what did you do when the earth was unraveling?

Words have power. And these are . . . → Read More: redjenny: The Power of Poetry