The Germans have a word for everything (schadenfreude is one of my favorites), so what is the German word for the sadness that suddenly befalls a child when he realizes that it’s time to leave his friend’s house and return home to his thousands of plain old toys.
The philtrum is the space on your face between your nose and your mouth. It’s that vertical groove that drops from the nose and to the lips. It’s the place where hipsters grow mustaches and noses drip in the winter. You probably didn’t know this. Or if you did, you recognized the word but probably couldn’t have retrieved it from your memory banks without prompting. Correct?
The software that I am using to write this post doesn’t even recognize philtrum as a real word.
Think about that:
We can identify every other spot on our face. Mouth, nose, chin, cheeks, nostrils, lips, forehead, temples, eyes, eyebrows, hairline, jowls. But the spot on our face that is arguably smack dab in its center is forgotten. Ignored. Unknown.
The philtrum is the He Who Should Not Be Named part of our body, and yet it’s out in the open every day, looked upon by every person to whom we speak.
The philtrum, people. It’s been left out of the American lexicon far too long.
Why is this? Have our teachers failed us? Have our parents left the philtrum out of the conversation for a reason? Is there an anti- philtrum conspiracy that seeks to keep this central part of the body hidden in the shadows?
Is this the result of secret philtrum shame?
The philtrum. You probably touch it one hundred times a day, yet most of us have never used the word in our lives. We have probably said the words vagina and penis ten thousand times for every one utterance of the word philtrum.
The philtrum. Let us ignore it no longer. If you are as passionate about the philtrum as I am – and I can’t imagine any reason why you might not be – go forth today and spread the news of its name like you might spread the news that your child has been born.
Let the philtrum be your baby. Shout its heretofore unknown name from the rooftops of the world.
Or at least just tell a few people what it’s called, so we can end the plague of philtrum ignorance.
It was bedtime. Clara and I were fighting over her new Elsa doll. I argued that Elsa wanted to be my friend and hang out with me tonight. Clara said that Elsa hated me, which wasn’t nice.
She grabbed Elsa from my hands, held her up in front of me, and then leaned in and blew air into my face.
“What was that?” I asked.
“Elsa’s icy breath,” she said.
What? Is Elsa trying to freeze me?”
“No, but she doesn’t want to sleep with you tonight. She just wants to blow you.”
Sadly, I was the only adult in the room at that moment.
About two weeks ago, I wrote a tongue-in-cheek post accusing Slate of stealing my ideas. On the same day, Slate published pieces defending skipping and arguing that climate change skeptics can no longer use the word skeptic when describing themselves because it’s simply not true.
I had previously published blog posts that were eerily similar.
But like I said, my claim was tongue-in-cheek. I didn’t really believe that there was an editor at Slate scouring my blog for interesting topics for his or her writers. I still don’t.
But I couldn’t help but notice that David Shiffman’s piece “I’m Not a Scientist” Is a Dangerous Cop-Out, which argues that the Republicans can no longer claim ignorance in order to avoid taking a position on climate change, is eerily similar to my blog post from a month earlier “I’m not a scientist” is a perfectly acceptable response to climate change questions, as long as you’re willing to acknowledge everything else that you are not.
Just look at the similarity in argument and even word choice between Shiffman and myself.
Shiffman writes:
When politicians say “I’m not a scientist,” it is an exasperating evasion. It’s a cowardly way to avoid answering basic and important policy questions. This response raises lots of other important questions about their decision-making processes. Do they have opinions on how to best maintain our nation’s highways, bridges, and tunnels—or do they not because they’re not civil engineers? Do they refuse to talk about agriculture policy on the grounds that they’re not farmers? How do they think we should be addressing the threat of ISIS? They wouldn’t know, of course; they’re not military generals.
More than a month earlier, I wrote:
Despite the sudden and overwhelming use of this sound byte [I’m not a scientist] as a means of doing nothing about climate change, I’m willing to accept these Republican’s admission of ignorance as long as they are willing to also admit that they are also not economists, military strategists, healthcare policy professionals, gynecologists, teachers, and Biblical scholars.
If these white men (because they are almost all white men) are unwilling to accept the findings of the vast majority of scientists who assert that climate change is both real and man made because they are not scientists themselves, then they must also renounce themselves from decisions involving the economy, monetary policy, the military, the Affordable Care Act, Medicare, Medicaid, abortion, contraception, education, and any policy enacted in accordance or alignment with Biblical principles.
Eerily similar. Right?
Despite the similarities, I don’t think that Slate editors are stealing my ideas. I have an enormous respect for the work that Slate does, and I recently began playing a small role in Slate’s podcasting empire. I am a tiny fish in an enormous pool of ideas. People have similar ideas all the time.
I guess I’m just quicker to the idea than these particular writers at Slate.
Still, it’s oddly coincidental. Right?
I feel like one of these photographs could replace the words used to define “enthusiasm” in the OED.
The next time someone attempts to counter your argument by claiming that you are making an “apples to oranges” comparison, say this:
Really? Apples and oranges are both similarly sized spherical fruits that grow on trees and weigh about the same. They have about the same number of calories per fruit. With the exception of vitamin E, they contain the same vitamins and minerals. They are two of the most cultivated and consumed fruits in the world. They can both be squeezed into a juice.
Is it really so ridiculous to be comparing two things that have so much in common?
Whoever decided to first use apples and oranges in this idiom wasn’t thinking straight.
Interestingly enough, it’s an idiom repeated around the world but using different objects. In France, the idiom compares apples to pears, which is even more ridiculous since apples and pears are even more alike than apples and oranges.
In Latin America, the comparison is potatoes to sweet potatoes. Also ridiculous.
Other cultures seem to understand the concept much better. The Serbians, for example, compare toads to grandmothers. The Romanians compare grandmothers to machine guns. And the Polish compare gingerbread to windmills.
The next time someone accuses me of making an apples to oranges comparison, I think I’ll say, “Did you mean a grandmothers to machine guns comparison, because apples and oranges have a hell of a lot in common.”
I live in the town of Newington, Connecticut. Our town’s slogan, at least according to our seal, is Growth & Progress.
This is a fine slogan, I guess. The two words are similar, so it’s kind of like putting a hat on a hat. But still, it’s fine.
However, if the town is ever looking to update the slogan, I would like to offer a few suggestions.
Newington: There are seven Dunkin Donuts in this damn town. Seven!
Newington: Closer to West Hartford Center and Blue Back Square than many parts of West Hartford, but with considerably lower property taxes.
Newington: You’re never more than fifteen minutes from every big box store on the planet.
Newington: Home of the smallest natural waterfall in the country. That’s right, people. The smallest.
Newington: There is a sentence on our Wikipedia page that reads, “Newington Public Schools operates public schools in Newington.” Obviously not written by a Newington High School graduate.
Newington: Home of Amy Archer-Gilligan, nursing home proprietor and serial killer
Newington: A town that refuses to include noted author and raconteur Matthew Dicks amongst its list of Notable People on its Wikipedia page.
Cleveland Browns receiver Andrew Hawkins wore a shirt demanding justice for Tamir Rice and John Crawford before Sunday’s today's game against the Bengals.
Failing to learn from the ridiculousness of the St. Louis police union’s recent demand for an apology (which they never received), the Cleveland police issued the following statement:
It's pretty pathetic when athletes think they know the law. They should stick to what they know best on the field. The Cleveland Police protect and serve the Browns stadium and the Browns organization owes us an apology.
Once again, another example of on of the eight lowest forms of human communication: The demanded apology. The adult version of “Take it back!” A form of passive-aggressive punishment that typically results in the petty, meaningless satisfaction in knowing that you made someone say something that they would rather not have said, with no guarantee of sincerity.
Like the St. Louis police union, I suspect that the Cleveland police will not be receiving an apology anytime soon, which makes the demanded apology even more pathetic.
Person or organization who will somehow feel better if another person is forced to make an insincere apology: “You’re mean. Apologize!”
Person who probably did nothing wrong: “No!”
End of dialogue.
When are people going to learn?
“I’m going to push back on that a little.”
A phrase that seems to unfortunately be gaining in popularity, most often used by wishy-washy, namby-pamby cowards who are either:
“I’m going to push back on that” allows a person to disagree without taking an actual stand.
“I’m going to push back on that” allows a person to question to opinions and ideas without have an opinion or idea of their own.
“I’m going to push back on that a little” is the passive-aggressive way of saying, “I disagree with you” or “You’re wrong” or “I think you’re full of hooey!”
So let’s just stop using that ridiculous phrase. Okay?
Take a stand, damn it. Express an actual opinion. Defend a position. Choose your hill and die upon it if necessary.
Be anything but a passive-aggressive wimp.
The St. Louis Police Officers Association is upset with the St. Louis Rams football players who entered the field displaying the "hands up don't shoot" pose.
This seems like a perfectly reasonable response. The “hands up don’t shoot” pose has been adopted by protestors who accused Ferguson Police Officer Darren Wilson of murdering Michael Brown. The gesture has become synonymous with assertions that Michael Brown was innocent of any wrongdoing and attempting to surrender peacefully when Wilson gunned him down in cold blood.
If I was a police officer, I might be upset, too.
However, the St. Louis Police Officers Association demand that the players apologize and be disciplined strikes me as petty, purposeless, and ridiculous and only serves to cast the police officers in fragile, vindictive light.
"The SLPOA is calling for the players involved to be disciplined and for the Rams and the NFL to deliver a very public apology. Roorda said he planned to speak to the NFL and the Rams to voice his organization's displeasure tomorrow. He also plans to reach out to other police organizations in St. Louis and around the country to enlist their input on what the appropriate response from law enforcement should be.”
I recently listed the eight lowest forms of human communication. The demanded apology is first on this list.
When you demand an apology, you are asking to person you have offended you to utter a set of words that may express regret but with no guarantee of sincerity. There is no way of knowing whether or not the apology was heart-felt, since you never allowed the offender the opportunity to apologize without prompting.
Besides, what is the value of a demanded apology? Will an expression of forced regret make the police feel better?
I hope not. It’s pretty pathetic if that’s the case.
A demanded apology is nothing more than an adult version of “Take it back!” It’s a form of passive-aggressive punishment that typically results in the petty, meaningless satisfaction in knowing that you made someone say something that they would rather not have said.
When I revise my list of the eight lowest forms of communication, I’ll have to add the cliché demand that an employee to be disciplined or terminated, because this is just as bad if not worse.
Will the punishing of these five football players made the police officers feel better?
Do they think that the punishing of these players for exercising their First Amendment right will somehow deter demonstrations by other football players or other groups in the future?
If anything, a punishment would only serve to incite additional demonstrations. It’s been a source of ridicule on social media and by people like Jon Stewart on The Daily Show.
The St. Louis Police Officers Association go on to threaten the players and anyone who thinks that this form of protest represents freedom of speech under the First Amendment:
Roorda warned, "I know that there are those that will say that these players are simply exercising their First Amendment rights. Well I've got news for people who think that way, cops have first amendment rights too, and we plan to exercise ours.
Not only is there a veiled threat contained within the statement, but it’s not logically sound. The first half of the statement:
“I know that there are those that will say that these players are simply exercising their First Amendment rights. Well, I’ve got news for people who think this way…”
… seems to indicate that the police reject the notion that this demonstration is protected speech. The use of the word “simply” as a modifier implies that the players actions went beyond First Amendment rights, and the use of the phrase “people who think this way” implies that this belief is not universally acknowledged. It seems to express a belief that “people who think this way” are separate from what is right and just.
Yet the second half of the statement:
“… cops have first amendment rights too, and we plan to exercise ours.”
… seems to express a belief that what the players did was right and just under the First Amendment and the police plan on engaging in similar, legally justified actions.
You can’t have it both ways, St. Louis Police Officers Association.
There’s also no way in hell that the police will ever follow through on this threat. What do they plan on doing? Protest the NFL? Draw even more attention to their pettiness?
I doubt it.
The police are in a tough spot. They should not make it worse with ridiculous, illogical statements like this one.
In 2012, I proposed the four lowest forms of human communication.
Today I update that list with four new items. If you’d like to suggest an addition to the list, I’m all ears.
________________________________
2. The absence of a thank you note complaint
3. The “I’m angry at you and will write an email rather than speaking to you in person or calling you” email
4. The anonymous critique or attack, in any form
5. The read-aloud PowerPoint slide
6. Any meeting agenda item that could’ve been conveyed via email or memo
7. The disingenuous, disinterested “How are you?”
8. The personal tragedy one-upmanship
New word: truché
Pronounced troo·ché
I can’t recall if I or my friend, Shep, first coined this word, but we use it with each other often, so I’ll give us both credit.
The definition:
exclamation
1. used as an acknowledgment during a discussion of a good or clever factual correction made at one's expense by another person. A portmanteau combining the words true and touché
Example:
Me: That might be the longest completion that Tom Brady has thrown all season.
Shep: Actually, he threw that 60 yard bomb in the fourth quarter last week. Remember how you hugged that big, hairy stranger after he scored?
Me: Truché
____________________
Shep: This might be the most beer I’ve drunk at a football game all season.
Me: You only think that because you drank so much beer last week that you lost count.
Shep: Truché.
If you haven’t noticed, the word was invented and is frequently used in the stands at Gillette Stadium.
As I’ve made clear, I am an enormous fan of the “I told you so,” going to far as to have an “I told you do” calendar.
What I would like to see is more of the reverse “I told you so.”
For example, about ten years ago one of my friends began having children. As he talked about fatherhood, he described the frustration of having his children climbing into his bed all the time, essentially kicking him out. He told me how long it took to extricate his infant children from his bedroom and how there were weeks when at least one and sometimes more of his kids spent the night crowding him out of his bed.
I told him at the time that when I had kids, they would never sleep in my bed, and I would be sure that my infant children were in their own rooms as quickly as possible.
He scoffed at these notions. Told me that I was clueless. Laughed at my stupidity.
Fast forward ten years. I have a five year-old daughter and a two year-old son. Both were sleeping in their own bedrooms a few months after being born, and neither sleeps or has ever slept in our bed.
In fact, when we tried to convince our daughter to sleep in our bed after a head injury required me to check on her every hour, she refused.
My friend recently asked me how the sleeping turned out. He asked with a smirk on his face, expecting that his claims about my cluelessness and stupidity would be validated at last.
I told him about my kids. I told him that neither child has ever slept in our bed. I told him that both children were sleeping in their own rooms well before their sixth month. I told him that I had never been kicked out of my bed by my children. Not once.
His smirk slid off his face. He said, “I’m surprised.”
That’s all he said.
After enjoying a decade of self-assurance and self-righteousness, all I received was an “I’m surprised.”
What I wanted to hear was something along the lines of, “It turns out that you were right.” Or “I guess I was the one who was clueless and stupid after all.” Or “I wish I could be more like Matthew Dicks and less like me.”
Or simply, “You told me so.”
The reverse “I told you so.”
The words that one should offer when you discover that you weren’t so smart after all.
Let’s all embrace this concept.
Request:
No. Check that. Demand:
Remove the rhetorical “Guess what? from your lexicon immediately.
Not every “Guess what?” is bad. “Guess what?” is perfectly acceptable much of the time.
But the rhetorical “Guess what?” is never acceptable.
“My boss wants us to do so-and-so? Well, guess what? It will be a cold day in hell before that ever happens.”
No. Stop it. Almost all rhetorical questions are annoying, but the “Guess what?” rhetorical question is especially so, since the people who use it seem to use it all the time.
Remove the “Guess what?” from the previous example and the only thing that changes is the perceived intelligence of the speaker.
“My boss wants us to do so-and-so? Well, it will be a cold day in hell before that ever happens.”
See what I mean? It’s a cleaner sentence. It’s more economic. But most important, it eliminates the cloying, under confident, needy sentiment that “Guess what?” brings to an argument. “Guess what?” implies that the listener needs to be more actively engaged than he or she already is. “Guess what?” suggests a false sense of audience participation. “Guess what?” hints at a speaker who is concerned with his or her ability to garner your attention.
“Guess what?” screams of desperation.
No more. Rid yourself of this verbal tick. This rhetorical blunder. This wasteful, purposeless, annoying turn of phrase.
My five year-old daughter is a rhetorical genius.
When I attempt to convince Clara that a two minute living room clean up is not a long time, or that the last piece of grilled cheese can be eaten in seconds, or that it’s always a good idea to try to use the bathroom before going on a long trip, her response is the same:
“Not to me.”
And it’s brilliant.
It’s true. Two minutes may seem like a long time to her.
It’s true. That last piece of grilled cheese might be incredibly difficult to eat.
And yes, just because I think something is a good idea does not mean that she will think the same.
“Not to me.”
Essentially, Clara is telling me that her reality and my reality are not the same, and that imposing my reality upon her will not work.
This is a reasonable and rationale position to take. Also rhetorically brilliant.
Annoyingly so.
Call my mom? It’s 1993. Do you want me to use your landline, since there are no mobile phones?
Besides, your pretentiously nostalgic coffee shop is also littered with dirty ashtrays and blurred in a haze of cigarette smoke, since smoking in public establishments is still legal in 1993.
And you’re probably playing The Spin Doctors and the soundtrack from The Bodyguard.
I’m not going in there.
The Moth recently asked what you would like inscribed on your gravestone when you die in conjunction with a Main Stage show in Brooklyn’s Greenwood Cemetery.
Since I have no intention of ever dying, this was more of a thought experiment than a real world exercise, but still, it was interesting to imagine what words might suit me the most.
After much thought, here is what I’ve decided upon:
Death is hardest on the dead.
Don’t believe me? Ask yourself this:
Who would you rather be?
You, reading this gravestone, or me, buried beneath your feet?
Death is hard on everyone, but it’s hardest on the dead.
Weep for me.
Read my books.
They are my feeble attempts at immortality.
I’m going to need a large stone.
A list of slogans from Friendly’s restaurants from over the years:
Damn. That is not a good list.
“You’re in for a nice surprise.” Not exactly encouraging. “You thought this meal was going to suck, but really, it’s won’t. You’ll be surprised.”
“Oh, that looks good!” Again, not a confident declaration. More of a reversal of expectations. “You think your cheeseburger will look like a greasy sponge, but no, it actually looks like a cheeseburger!”
“Oh yeah!” They paid someone to come up with that slogan? I’m no even sure how you would include this in ad copy.
“There’s no place like home.” I hope the company didn’t hire an advertising agency to come up with a phrase that existed long before The Wizard of Oz made millions from it. “Yes, it’s a cliché. It may be one of the greatest clichés of all time, and I don’t mean great in a good way. But it worked for the girl with the red slippers, so maybe it will work for us.”
No wonder the company had to be rescued from bankruptcy.
Researchers from the Center for Reading Research looked at the first 500,000 results of Ghent University's online vocabulary test, focusing on differences in gender. It turns out that some words exhibited a large margin between the percent of men and women who reported knowing them.
Here are the words that men were most likely to recognize over women and the percentages that men and women knew the words.
I know the meaning of all 12 words.
Here are the words that women were most likely to know over men and the same percentages.
I know the meaning of 8 out of the 12 words.
I have a good guess about bottlebrush and tresses, but have not idea what flouncy or flouncing are.
These two sentences exist on the Internet. Not ironically or comedically, but with all the sincerity and earnestness that the comment implies.
I can’t tell you how happy I am that there is a place in the world for comments like this to be recorded for posterity.
