Pedantry Down Pact

The magic of the Internet allows us to find thousands of websites repeating the same unsourced origin of an American idiom, making one think no one knew how to think (or at least plagiarize) before the Internet was a thing.

So I'll toss it out to you fine folk: From where do we get the idea that having something "down pat" means it's a skill we have perfected?

The thousand websites I mention claim it comes from early American poker players, but no one seems to be able to cite even a reasonable source.

Why do I want to know? Because I just read the phrase as "down pact" and it made me cranky.

Someone online was also lamenting they'd seen it as "down packed," which might even make sense.

To steal a phrase from Professor Higgins: "As an American, I don't care if people don't know where an idiom comes from as long as they spell it properly," but the pedant in me wants to know.

The Light We Cannot See

We live in loud, tumultuous times.

A lot of what we do and think and say revolves around what we see and hear and believe and parrot on the Internet. I'd say media, but it's social media, not the mainstream media, that captures our attention and the powers that drive things both big and small. For good and ill.

In the opening to his book "All the Light We Cannot See," Anthony Doerr quotes Nazi Germany's propaganda minister Joseph Goebbels as saying "It would not have been possible for us to take power or to use it in the ways we have without the radio." But before this turns into a polemic for or against social media and the ills it brings us, allow me to suggest that we, like the listeners to the "radios" in Doerr's tale, should be able to sort the signal from the noise and decide what to do with the information we receive; and decide whether or not the information we have to share is adding to a constructive conversation or is just another bit of flotsam jamming things up.

Sorry. A lot of metaphors there.

I tend to use social media mostly for silliness, because it gives me an outlet and a way to reach other silly people. Those who want to speak of BIG THINGS all the time, or squawk political talking points mostly, are the ones I tend to mute or shy away from completely.

They have their right and their place in the world; I just don't need to hear all of it.

And that doesn't mean I'm not concerned or involved or worried or scared. It just means I want to compartmentalize what I consume and what I say so not every place I go is full of the same old thing.

But back to Doerr and the Nazis.

I'm loving his book. I'm loving how people are shown doing good things in trying times, even at great risk. And I'm understanding how the title of his book ties in with the tale he's telling. Radio is on the same spectrum as light, but it is light we cannot see. And there are characters in this book on all sorts of portions of the spectrum, some in the light, some still unseen, that mean for us good or ill or indifference based on what we do or say or believe.

We know so little of what others think -- we can only see the light they show us. Some of that light we see is ugly, so we shy away from them. That's not altogether healthy, particularly when that light incites us to impose judgments that may or may not be fair, based on the light we cannot see.

That doesn't mean we can't look for warnings, or red flags, or whatever; being aware of those things are essential for survival, both physical and spiritual. But to shun those whose light on topics we care about is of a different shade than what we think it ought to be shuts us off from them, if we let it.

We should tune in to the light we can see and the light we can't. And that ain't easy.

Wanna Try My Herbal Infusion?

This is the link our son sent:

 

A Lot of Gaul

Another of my language "tip's" done in the style of Dave Barry:

Gall: Per Oxford Languages, a noun with two meanings: "The contents of the gall bladder," and "bold and impudent behavior." Let us use the second definition as our focus.

Gaul: A native or inhabitant of ancient Gaul, or ancient Gaul itself, being a region encompassing France, Luxembourg, Belgium, and parts of Switzerland, Germany, and Italy, per Wikipedia.

Either definition of Gaul can be our focus here; the point being that if you tell a person they have a lot of Gaul, you're commenting on their likely ancestry, not their behavior.

Moo Like A Cow and Take A Look

Another of my language "tip's" done in the style of Dave Barry:

Lo and behold: "Lo" is an archaic word meant to draw attention to an interesting or amazing event, per Oxford languages. "Lo and behold," is an almost equally archaic way "to present a new scene, situation, or turn of events, often with the suggestion that although surprising, it could in fact have been predicted," per the same.

Low and behold: Moo like a cow and take a look.

There *is* a difference. It is not subtle.

Epidei-whutsit?

If you want to read the Internet stumbling over the definition of a word, look no further.

A student used this word in an essay I'm grading tonight. He found a definition that pretty much reads like the stereo instructions you'll get in this Wikipedia article, but befuddled his ol' instructor, who needs it in layman's terms.

I can see why he's struggling, though. No one on the 'net is able to define it plainly.*

I'm telling him if he can't define the term, he'd better not use it.

But wanting closure, I wanted to find a definition that made sense to me.

I kept poking the Internet. And came up empty. So I posted the question to my Facebook friend, and one delivered, with this.

The word: Epideictic. The definition that made sense, finally: a ceremonial verbal display, often with the purpose of dispensing blame or praise. I think my student used it correctly, but he was struggling mightily to define it. And when you use a two-dollar word in a 100-level English class, you'd better be able to define it. And you can't use a definition with more two-dollar words, which is what this student was trying to do.

*Sure, the Wikipedia article and definition it offers makes more sense now, but read on to see how that came to pass.

Grinch Gets Stuck

For reasons unknown, we took our son's van to church today.

Also for reasons unknown, I was consigned to the seat way in the back. To get to it, one has to climb over a set of folded seats. This proved difficult because:

1. I am not a small man

2. One of my feet got wedged and to unwedge it I had to pop my shoe off.

When we got to church I had to crawl out, butt first, and I suspect it all looked like a manatee giving birth.

I am fairly confident no one took pictures, because they were all too enthralled by the spectacle to remember to get their phones out.

I post this here because after all that, I've used up whatever dignity I had in store for the day.

Despair is Do-It-Yourself

We live in a world where someone else's poor choices justify our own.

It's not good enough to live a moral life, do good things, be nice to others. If someone else -- just one person out there -- is not moral, does not do good things, is mean to others, that justifies the same behavior in us.

Were it not so, but it is.

This attitude transcends politics, religion, and whatever ism we hold dear. If we say I and mine don't do it, that is a lie.

"Am I my brother's keeper?" Cain asked the angel asking after Abel whom Cain killed.

We live in a fallen world in which not a soul wants to keep or be kept.

He shifted in his bunk. The uncomfortable thoughts swirled in the darkness around him like foul water.

There must be some light, he thought. Light somewhere. Light and darkness, light and darkness. Always together. Sometimes one is dominant, then the other.

Yes. They are the only things in the world that keep or are kept.

His pillowcase suddenly felt damp. He flipped the pillow over, longed for the fan overhead to move more air.

Keep or be kept.

Keep used to mean helping others, he thought. Raising barns. Raising children. But now keep means kept: Bullied, overseen, hindered. Taxed. He chuckled at taxed.

Kept used to mean being watchful for trouble, watchful for error in self and others. And assistance and love without judgment, or at least judgment spoken aloud. But now kept means keep: Stasis, the good old days which were good for some but not for all. Ground under. The pillow again felt damp at ground under.

They say the heart of man will run cold in the last days.

I have a cold heart, he thought.

Even me.

And warming it. Warming it. Too hard. Too much effort.

Keep or kept. Does it matter now, with the world as it is? It's all sunshine, but the lying, bitter sun shining on an Earth stuttering at 20 below zero. There is light, but there is no warmth.

Hearts are cold.

He shifted.

The pillow no longer felt damp.

"So this is despair," he thought.

Isn't it wonderful?

He pulled a blanket over his head.

Effortless, you see. And you get used to it, when you realize you don't have to share it with others because they already have it. Joy requires effort. Materials and blueprints. And other people. Despair is do-it-yourself.

Do it yourself.

"Go away," he said. "Go away."

His poor choices lined up in his mind for consideration.

Oh well, he sighed. He began to sort them, one by one.

Doom the Gloom

I should have posted this comic with my post of yesterday, but today it feels more fitting, as I work to get through things.

Part of what happened yesterday was the Sunday Scaries, which my Dad used to get before it was a thing.

And part of is that good ol' Davidson paranoia which just assumes not necessarily the worst, but rarely the best, of things to come.

Jon here is doing what I do. Trying to get past it all, mostly by talking to himself.

Oh *There* You Are, Seasonal Depression

So the fun thing was that this January and February, my typical seasonal depression was absent. I'm not sure I did anything different this year as compared to past years, so I can't really explain it.

Now, however . . .

It's here. Part of it might be due to overwork (which, anyone watching me, would ask HOW?). Since the beginning of April, I've been very short of free weekends. A lot of Scout stuff going on, of course. And when it wasn't Scout stuff, it was trying to get a few things done around the house and working on the camper (again, my wife would ask HOW) to get it ready for camp.

But now the camper is gone. I have to do Scouts this coming Saturday, but there's a good chance after that I might get some free time. And the older I get, the more I see that free time is important. Getting away from the computer and all that.

Yesterday I planed tomatoes in the garden, mowed most of the back lawn, stapled up some cables and generally puttered around without anyone telling me what to do. It felt good.

Not that I mind cooperating on chores and such. I just would like to prioritize what I want to work on. And hells bells do I have a lot to work on.

So maybe this depression will lighten up a bit. We'll see.