The Evolution of Insults (Continued)

What got the Solipsist thinking about insults, actually, was an article about profanity by psychologist Stephen Pinker.  He mentions in passing that the everyday insult "jerk"--which most people use casually to refer to those they find mildly annoying--originally meant "masturbator."  Presumably, we are still somewhat cognizant of this, as when we refer to someone as a "jerkoff."  Even that, though, has lost most of its sexual connotation, and if/when we use it, we usually just mean that someone is contemptibly lazy.

Thing is, though, American English doesn't really HAVE a derogatory term meaning "one who masturbates."  This was brought home to the Solipsist awhile back when he was working on a monologue from a British play.  He was trying to Americanize some of the slang, but he hit a brick wall when he came to a line about "secret wankers" and the "objects of their masturbation fantasies."  What's the American version of "wanker"?  Can we Sloppists come up with one?

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And Then There's No More Maude

A fond farewell to Bea Arthur.  A funny lady, and one of that select group of relatively famous people that you can never actually envision as "young."  Others include Burgess Meredith, Wilford Brimley, and, to a lesser extent, Patrick Stewart; one swears these people must have been BORN 40.  RIP, Bea.

The Evolution of Insults

When does a nickname become an insult and/or vice-versa?  British people, as far as the Solipsist knows, don't mind it when Americans call them "Brits."  In fact, one gets the impression that they consider it a term of endearment, in much the same way Americans don't mind being called "Yanks," and (again, one is presuming here) Australians don't mind being called "Aussies."

This might be because there's nothing inherently offensive about the terms--at least the terms "Brit" and "Aussie": They're basically just abbreviated versions of the actual words.  And yet, one cannot innocently call a Japanese person a "Jap" (and one should be careful about using it with "Jewish-American Princesses," too, although that seems to have lost some of its sting), and even calling a Jewish person a "Jew" seems to create some discomfort.  Why?  Presumably, it has something to do with the fact that "Jap" (along with "Nip"--short for Nipponese) was the term used by the Allies in World War II when speaking about their Axis enemies.  Memories are still--if not, "fresh," at least existent.  As for "Jew," that's trickier.  Frankly, we Jewish people are Jews; there's nothing derogatory about the word.  Maybe people feel uncomfortable because they think calling a Jewish person a Jew is equivalent to calling a Japanese person a Jap?

And what about other nationalities?  Most other country's populations haven't received friendly nicknames from Americans, have they?  The French can be "frogs"--or "cheese-eating surrender monkeys"--neither of which is particularly nice.  Germans use "Ami" to refer to Americans, not because of the French for "friend," but in the same way that Americans use "Brit": an affectionate abbreviation.  For somewhat obvious reasons, though, Americans don't use a similar "clipping" when talking about "Germans."  Is "Russkie" offensive?  Probably.  Is "Canuck"?  Well, probably not: Canadians don't get offended.  (How's THAT for offensive?)

On "Monty Python's Flying Circus," they once had a sketch about a game show called, "Prejudice."  On one segment, viewers were asked to submit suggestions for a derogatory term for Belgians.  After passing on "The Sprouts" and "The Phlegms," the winner was announced: "Miserable Fat Belgian Bastards."  Pretty unambiguously insulting.

Turf

Everyone knows that familiarity breeds contempt, and that Crazy Uncle Chester breeds armadillos.  But what does unfamiliarity breed?  If we take a logical, antonymical approach, we would have to conclude that it breeds, what?  Respect?  That doesn't seem right.

Based on the Solipsist's experiences today, it breeds mild discomfort.  YNSHC had to travel to a strange (that is, unfamiliar) place today for a meeting.  And while the settings were all quite picturesque--lots of mountains, clean walkways, the smell of inexpensively catered breakfast items wafting on the breeze--the Solipsist couldn't help but feel that slight frisson of unease at being away from one's own turf.

That's the problem: Turflessness.  Because have you ever noticed that, when you're on someone else's turf, no matter what lengths the hosts go to make you feel welcome, you can't help but be conscious of a certain superiority complex?  They, after all, or on their turf, and they know it.  And they show it in all sorts of subtle and not-so-subtle ways: enjoying little in-jokes with their fellow hosters ("Oh, Myrtle!  Grover actually let you take the day off from collating (hee hee)?"  What the hell is that?!?); sashaying casually to the cafeteria at lunch time; peeing in a bathroom because they know where it is instead of behind the nearest mailbox.  Perhaps we've said too much.

Frankly, there's nothing like being away from one's own turf to make one truly appreciate one's own home away from home.

The Solipsist Does It Again!

Longtime Sloppists will recall that, awhile back, as a sort of sop to his most devoted acolytes, YNSHC devoted roughly a week's worth of posts to the topics of "Star Trek" and cereal.  Well,  check this out:

Click here.

Now, obviously, the powers-that-be have been reading us, and they have wisely concluded that the key to market--if not world--domination is to cater to our needs and desires.  So, rejoice Sloppists!  Those of you fanatically devoted to "Star Trek" can now eat part of a complete breakfast!  And those of you fanatically devoted to cereal can. . . well. . . you can keep eating cereal!  And it'll have marshmallows that look like Starfleet insignia!  Extra-yummy!

You're welcome!

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Oh, by the way, happy Earth Day!  And/or happy Administrative Professionals' (formerly Secretaries) Day!  Yes, they're BOTH today!  Bad planning, we think.  How is one supposed to juggle all one's social obligations?

Lobbyblog

According to an article in today's Times, non-profit groups are trying to carve out loopholes in one of President Obama's signature initiatives.  Immediately after assuming the presidency, the prez signed a bill officially forbidding the hiring of lobbyists for federal government jobs.  The idea was--in the wake of such scandals as the Jack Abramoff imbroglio--to purge such influence peddlers from the federal payroll.  The thing is that this law, which is intended to keep, say, an AIG lobbyist from being named Assistant Treasury Secretary, also keeps lobbyists for human rights groups from working for the State Department, or patients' rights advocates from working for Health and Human Services.

And the Solipsist says: Good thing, too!  Keep those namby-pamby, latte-drinking, tree-hugging, hybrid-driving, human-rights supporting, healthcare-wanting, senseless-violence-disapproving pantywaists out of the realm of public policy.  Why, do you realize (to paraphrase Homer Simpson) that these so-called "non-profit organizations" aren't even interested in making money?!?  That sounds downright un-American, to say nothing of stupid.

And then there are the inevitable conflicts of interest.  Think about FEMA.  Now, if non-profit groups had their way, they would probably see nothing wrong in appointing a director who had lobbied Congress on behalf of, say, disaster victims.  But if someone like that had been in charge after Hurricane Katrina, he or she would probably have advocated spending money to support those who had lost their homes!!!

Now, the Solipsist doesn't really care about poor people--they're not likely to help him get onto "Blogs of Note"--so he's unsure how much money would have been needed to help all those dispossessed ragamuffins.  Probably not too much--did you see where they were living?  Ugh!  Still, it would probably have been more than a couple of thousand dollars (hard to believe, yes)--and certainly more money than Michael Brown spent.  And now, with the economy crashing, can't we all breathe just a little easier in the knowledge that Brownie did a heckuva job?

Say "NO!" to non-profits, folks!  Keep lobbyists in the lobbies!  Appoint only the dismally uninformed to positions of power!

PS: Mr. President?  The Solipsist is willing to accept any sinecure.  Trust us: Especially after today's post, we have absolutely NO friends in the non-profit world.

Discomfort Mugs

Times are tough these days, and the Solipsist wants you all to know that he feels your pain.  Literally.  It's a sort of burning sensation.  Allow him to explain.

In an effort to save a little pocket money and to work off a bit of excess stomach, the Solipsist has resolved to start walking to work.  It's not an overly strenuous walk: About a mile each way, and on the way THERE, it's mostly downhill.  But this alternate mode of transportation does mean that YNSHC must forego his morning trip to Starbucks.

(Digression: The Solipsist is not actually encouraging you to click to Starbucks' homepage.  (Of course, he's not DIScouraging you either.  Knock yourself out.)  Consider this more of an experiment to see if by adding corporate links he can attract sponsors.   Shameless self-promotion?  You bet! It's all about the Benjamins, people.  End of digression.)

See, Starbucks is a little out of the way, plus it's more of a drive-through experience.  We hope that our local baristas will not miss us too much.

(Digression: What does it say about our society that "barista" does not trip the spell check, but "Barack" (and for that matter, "Obama") does?  End of digression.)

Where were we?  Ah, yes.

So the Solipsist isn't going to Starbucks, but he still needs his morning coffee.  So, he went to his local Lucky's  and purchased one of those travel mugs: red and shiny; screw-top lid; latch that can be set open or closed.

But here's the thing and the motivation behind today's rant: Do these mugs EVER work right?  The Solipsist has owned this kind of accoutrement in the past.  He swore them off, though, because invariably the lid wouldn't screw on right or--as is the case with this latest purchase--no matter how the latch is set--open or closed or somewhere in between--one can simply not get a proper flow of coffee to one's lips.  First the coffee comes out in a trickle like an old man's urine (sorry for that image, but, y'know, it's apt).  But then when you tilt the cup further and further back, of course, a big splash of coffee ultimately comes gushing out and over your chin and down your chest like. . . well, OK, like a diarrhea sufferers poop.

(Again, we apologize for the imagery, but you can see that this experience has put YNSHC in a firmly scatological mood.)

It's really one of those, "If they can put a man on the moon" type quandaries: Seriously, how hard can it be to perfect a travel mug out of which one can actually drink?  

'Cause, really, the Solipsist doesn't WANT to feel your pain!  Especially when it also messes up his shirt!

Shameless Joy

Many sports fans--regardless of the sport--root for two teams: Team A and whoever is playing Team B.  The Solipsist is no exception.  Team A, of course, is the New York Mets.  Team B is the New York Yankees.

So yesterday was a perfect sports day:  The Mets beat the Brewers 1-0 behind another spectacular pitching performance by Johan Santana.  And, honestly even better, the Yankees lost to Cleveland.  Only they didn't just lose.  They were demolished by the football-esque score of 22-4.  Cleveland scored 14 runs in one inning.  The Yankees starting pitcher now has an Earned Run Average (ERA) of 35.40!

(Digression: For those not familiar with baseball statistics, ERA measures the average number of runs a pitcher gives up per nine innings; the lower the better.  So a good ERA is below 4.00, indicating that the pitcher gives up fewer than four runs every nine innings pitched; a terrific ERA is below 3.00; the aforementioned Johan Santana's ERA is currently a gaudy 0.46!  What an ERA of 35.40 means is that this pitcher, if he were allowed to stay in a game for nine innings, would be expected to give up more than 35 runs.  That's five touchdowns, folks!  End of digression.)

Now usually the Solipsist would take more pleasure in a Mets' victory, and a Yankees loss would be so much lagniappe.  But, 22-4. . . that just brings a real smile to the Solipsist's face.  

Which brings us to today's word: Schadenfreude.  The Solipsist assumes his highly literate readers already know what the word means, but to show off his own erudition, he will explain it anyway.  Schadenfreude, literally "shameful joy," describes pleasure derived as a result of another's suffering.  So, like, when someone at your job tells you that his sailboat struck a sandbar and sprung a leak and sank, and you sympathize while surreptitiously snickering,

(Digression: What's with the alliteration?  End of digression.)

you are experiencing Schadenfreude.

But is it shameful joy if you have no shame?  Or, to put it differently, is there  Schadenfreude without the Schade?  Because the Solipsist experiences no shame at his feelings regarding Yankees' losses.  Indeed, he revels in it.  Seriously, folks, it's about the greatest pleasure the Solipsist experiences clothed.  Too much information?

We need another word to express shameless joy.  Random Sloppist: "Ummm. . . . How about 'Joy'?"  Shut up, Random Sloppist!  We need something more clever, something resonant, something that captures the sheer ecstatic ebullience that comes with wallowing in the suffering of others who really deserve it like terrorists and Yankees fans!

Maybe a Google word-verification will come to the rescue.  We'll keep you posted.