Word Wednesday.

Vitrification

Noun.

1. The process or act of vitrifying or the state of being vitrified.

2. Something that is or has been vitrified.

Vitrify

Verb -fied; -fying

Transitive verb: to convert into glass or a glassy substance by heat and fusion.

Intransitive verb: to become vitrified.

Vitrifiable – adjective.

Vitrification – noun.

[Origin: Middle French vitrifier, from Latin vitrum glass.]

(1594)

“This is in fact a DEEP SEVEN cadaver, and appears to have undergone some sort of postmortem vitrification process, or perhaps a hibernation from which it failed to emerge, approximately seven million years ago.” – The Jennifer Morgue, Charles Stross.

Word Wednesday.

Paraphernalia

Noun plural but singular or plural in construction.

1. The separate real or personal property of a married woman that she can dispose of by will and sometimes according to common law during her life.

2. Personal belongings.

3. a: Articles of equipment. b: Accessory items.

[Origin: Medieval Latin, ultimately from Greek parapherna, bride’s property beyond her dowry, from para + phernē dowry, from pherein to bear.]

(1651)

“Timothy Poe was not at 101 MacDougal Street, but a vast array of drug paraphernalia was. Unfortunately for him, it was more than enough to raise the eyebrows of even the most jaded of Mulvaney’s men: a stash of opium, a bottle of Bayer’s heroin, some cocaine toothdrops, and a dozen hypodermic needles of the type that had pricked Detective Marwin. Though it was not illegal to possess any of these items, it was frowned upon by polite society – and their discovery would do Poe no good.” – A Curtain Falls, Stefanie Pintoff.

Word Wednesday.

Impecunious

Adjective.

Having very little or no money, usually habitually: penniless.

– impecuniosity, noun.

– impecuniously, adverb.

– impecuniousness, noun.

[Origin: in – + obsolete, English pecunious, rich, from Middle English, from Latin pecuniosus, from pecunia, money.]

(1596)

“So many conferees came down to the aisle to congratulate my choice of entertainment for the evening I felt overwhelmed. But academics enjoy nothing so much as a golden opportunity to feel superior, and in this case, impecunious and bedraggled professors could sail off having felt that they had bested wealth, beauty, stardom, and Hollywood itself.” – The Edith Wharton Murders, Lev Raphael.

Word Wednesday.

Ambit

Noun.

1. Circuit, compass.

2. The bounds or limits of a place or district.

3. A sphere of action, expression, or influence: scope.

[Origin: Middle English, from Latin ambitus, from ambire.]

(1597)

“And you do not?” Andso said, straightening. The captain was edging into blasphemy, and that, at least, was in the priest’s ambit. “Do you doubt the Bishopry, Captain?” – The God Engines, John Scalzi.

Word Wednesday.

Recondite

Adjective.

1. Hidden from sight: concealed.

2. Difficult or impossible for one of ordinary understanding or knowledge to comprehend: deep.

3: of, relating to, or dealing with something little known or obscure.

– reconditely, adverb.

– reconditeness, noun.

[Origin: Latin reconditus, past participle of recondere to conceal, from re– + condere to store up, from com– + –dere to put.]

(1649)

“The Anarchist Cookbook, with its dangerously flawed bomb formulae, hasn’t maimed half so many hands as HPL’s mythos. His writings look more like fiction than allegorically-described recipes to most people, which is a good thing; but every so often a reader of his more recondite works becomes unhealthily obsessed with the idea of the starry wisdom behind it, starts thinking of it as something real, and then tries to reverse-engineer the design of the pipe bomb he’s describing, not realizing that Quality Control was not his strong point. – Equoid, Charles Stross.

Word Wednesday.

Götterdämmerung

Noun.

A collapse (as of a society or regime) marked by catastrophic violence and disorder; broadly, downfall.

[Origin: German, literally, twilight of the gods, from Götter (plural of Gott god) + Dämmerung twilight.]

(1909)

“The story he could have summarized if he had to. There was no need to read those last five chapters. The First Heaven was about the world before there were people in it. No people, no animals, and no birds, only sea creatures and insects, the whole ruled over by gods and goddesses, some with well-known names, some invented, but all with an Old Testament flavor. These deities behaved like human beings in that they loved and hated, committed crimes and performed heroic deeds, but were apparently immortal and therefore could watch the process of evolution, the gradual change of the tiny swimming things into land creatures and flying creatures. As the millennia passed, the gods foresaw the appearance on earth of man by a process of evolution but were powerless to stop it, though they knew it would mean an end to their immortality. It would mean a Götterdämmerung.” – Not in the Flesh, Ruth Rendell.

Word Wednesday.

Fantod

Noun.

1. Plural a. A state of irritability and tension. b. Fidgets.

2. An emotional outburst: fit.

[Origin: perhaps alteration of English dialect fantique, fanteeg, perhaps blend of fantastic and fatigue.]

(1839)

“That damn creek water had given Grim a serious case of the howling fantods, and every bit of reason that he could cling to was welcome indeed.” – Hex (U.S. Version), Thomas Olde Heuvelt.

Word Wednesday.

Chthonic

Adjective.

Also Chthonian.

Of or relating to the underworld.
Of or relating to the deities, spirits, and other beings dwelling under the earth.

[Origin: from Greek khthonios in or under the earth, from khthōn earth.]

1840-1850.

“What’s bi-sub syndrome, anyway?” “Don’t know. I tried to look up some of Dr. Abraham’s work and found something titled ‘The Evolution of Hierarchical Behavior Expressed Through Chthonic Fetishization,’ and gave up after that. I don’t speak academic fluently enough.” – The Killer Wore Leather, Laura Antoniou.

Let’s [Not] Talk Gibberish.

gibberish-meaningful-blabber

Seeing as it’s Word Wednesday here at Affinity, what better day to review the atrocious mangling of language Trump indulges in? Todd Gitlin has an excellent article and review up of the Tiny Tyrant’s Art of the Non Sequitur, along with his working vocabulary, which is more suited to a toddler.

Once upon a time, there were presidents for whom English seemed their native language. Barack Obama most recently. He deliberated. At a press conference or in an interview — just about whenever he wasn’t speaking from a text — his pauses were as common as other people’s “uh’s.” He was not pausing because his vocabulary was impoverished. He was pausing to put words into sequence. He was putting phrases together with care, word by word, trying out words before uttering them, checking to feel out what they would sound like once uttered. It was important to him because he did not want to be misunderstood. President Obama valued precision, in no small part because he knew he lived in a world where every last presidential word was a speech act, a declaration with consequence, so that the very statement that the sky was blue, say, would be scoured for evidence that the president was declaring a policy on the nature of nature.

That was then. Now we have a president who, when he speaks, spatters the air with unfinished chunks, many of which do not qualify as sentences, and which do not follow from previous chunks. He does not release words into a stream of consciousness but into a heap. He heaps words on top of words, to overwhelm meaning with vague gestures. He does not think, he lurches.

Here are some examples from TIME’s transcript of their cover story made out of their phone interview with the president of the United States. I have italicized the non sequiturs, incomplete propositions, indefinite pronouns and other obscurities that amount to verbal mud.

I used to have sequential eyerolls over Bush Jr’s mangling of language: uninalienable, subliminabable, resignates, disregardered, impedent, misunderestimated, and so forth. Well, at least Bush tried for the big words. That’s better than a basic vocabulary of “bad, sad, bigly!”

Click on over for the full gibberish analysis!

And here’s a fine example of the Gibberish Takeover:

“I think the president is very well steeped in world affairs, especially Europe, NATO, all of the issues,” Spicer declared. “He was a leader in the effort to call Brexit, as you know.”

Spicer, however, did not explain how Trump led the “effort to call Brexit.”

“So, I think both on the EU and that, that’s that,” Spicer concluded.

How, exactly, does any of that answer the charge that the Tiny Tyrant is ignorant when it comes to world affairs? We are talking about the fucking idiot who presented Ms. Merkel with a bill, for fuck’s sake. He also didn’t have the slightest idea of what NATO is, or how it works. He was not a leader in the effort to call Brexit, although he did plenty of cheerleading for it. And what we get is: “So, I think both on the EU and that, that’s that.” WHAT IN THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN? Is everyone getting so damn stupid that such shite gets a pass, or worse, knowing nods?

Word Wednesday.

Words1Atrocious

Adjective.

1 : extremely wicked, brutal, or cruel: Barbaric.

2: Appalling, horrifying.

3a: utterly revolting: abominable. b: of very poor quality.

– atrociously, adverb.

– atrociousness, noun.

[Origin: Latin atroc-, atrox gloomy, atrocious, from atr-, ater black + –oc, –ox.]

(1658)

“Robespierre had paused briefly to finger his jabot.

‘I tell you that anyone who is trembling at this moment is guilty. Because innocence never fears the public gaze.‘

‘That’s atrocious,’ Adamsberg whispered back. ‘The most terrible of all, in my view.'” – A Climate of Fear, Fred Vargas.

As our quote finds us in the time of Robespierre, a bonus phrase: Sneeze into the sack:

“‘Hébert was famous for writing “fuck this” and “fuck that”, ever two lines in the paper, and Gonzalez liked imitating him, they were stirring sessions. “Let those toads in the Plain go and sneeze into the sack,” he would say. Robespierre was very shocked by Hébert’s vulgar language.’

‘Sneeze into the sack?’ asked Adamsberg.

‘A contemporary expression for being sent to the guillotine.'”

The Intolerance of Liberals.

Rob Tornoe.

Rob Tornoe.

PZ has a post up about yet another person who found it terribly necessary to do the rounds of the Trumpholes, to discover their “reasoning.” Why anyone does this is a mystery to me, unlike the so-called reasoning of those who support the Regime. I’ve heard it all, from those who have one pet issue, such as being rabidly anti-choice, and who sided with the Tiny Tyrant over that, in spite of possibly disliking other aspects, because it’s worth it, those who think anything is worth it to get back at those filthy liberals, those who actually think Trump is anti-establishment, those who quiver in fear over every shadow, and those who simply agree with all the racist, bigoted, sexist shit which makes up most of Donnie’s mind, and so on.

One of the most common plaints of the Trumphole is just how intolerant those awful lefty liberals are, calling racists racist, and so forth. As a lefty liberal, and worse, a dyed-in-the-wool hippie, I take issue with being called intolerant. I don’t like it, because it isn’t accurate. To tolerate something means you display forbearance, you put up with something, with either good or sour grace. You permit, or allow something, doesn’t mean you like it at all. I wouldn’t say I’m so much intolerant of Trumpholes and their never-ending whines of justification for horrible views, as I am non-accepting. Nonacceptance is much more accurate when it comes to describing my attitude and feelings. Acceptance involves favourability and approval. There’s a big difference between “Oh, I tolerate Jane” and “Oh, I accept Jane.”

I do not accept bigotry, sexism, or hate. I do not want any of those to have a place in my life, heart, or brain. I reject such ugliness outright, and I will reject it no matter how many justifications someone tries to wrap them in. There’s simply no excuse to hold onto such hate, and tying yourself into knots in an attempt to make it sound reasonable isn’t going to work. I simply will not accept it. If you’re busy trying to make bigotry sound somehow palatable, yes, I’ll point out that you are being a bigot, because that’s the truth. If you somehow think you have the key to making sexism right and proper, I’ll point out that no, you’re wrong, and you’re still being sexist. And so on.

Every single day, I read many many lots of articles, in order to be informed, and to be able to blog, and much of what I read is not to my taste, to say the least, but I tolerate it, in order to be informed. Every day, I manage to tolerate Trumpholes enough to be aware of their always full font of hateful froth. So, y’see, it’s not accurate to say I’m intolerant. It is accurate to say I’m non-accepting.

Word Wednesday.

Words1Glaucous

Adjective.

1 a: of a pale yellow-green color. b: of a light bluish-gray or bluish-white color.

2: having a powdery or waxy coating that gives a frosted appearance and tends to rub off.

– glaucousness, noun.

[Origin: Latin glaucus, from Greek glaukos gleaming, gray]

(1671)

“Suddenly, a wave of very big rats, with glaucous eyes and lips drawn back from shining ridges of teeth, came boiling out of the darkness.” – The Wicked, Douglas Nicholas.

And, some other nifty color words:

Murrey / Perse / Cramoisy

 
Murrey, noun: a purplish black: Mulberry. [Origin: Middle English, from Anglo-French muré, from Medieval Latin moratum, from neuter of moratus mulberry colored, from Latin morum, mulberry.] (15th Century).

“Fastened to his surcoat was a brooch worn as a badge: a silver disk inlaid with murrey-colored enamel, against which the white fountain of Blanchefontaine stood out, rendered in raised silver.” – Something Red, Douglas Nicholas.

Perse, adjective: of a dark grayish blue resembling indigo. [Origin: Middle English pers, from Anglo-French, from Medieval Latin persus.] (15th Century)

Cramoisy: adjective: of a crimson colour. noun: crimson cloth.

[Origin: French cramoisi, from Spanish carmesi, from Arabic qirmzi, equivalent to kermes.] (1375 -1425)

“She took the cramoisy gown from his hand and folded it, and then held the perse up against herself, looking down at it.” – Something Red, Douglas Nicholas.

Word Wednesday.

Words1Peregrine.

adjective.

1. having a tendency to wander; traveling or migratory.

2. coming from abroad.

[Origin: Middle French peregrin, from Medieval Latin peregrinus, foreign, from pereger being abroad, from per through + ager land (that is, beyond one’s own land)

(1350 – 1400)

There were a score or so of the peregrines, come from Carlisle, most them burghers, guild-brothers in the tanners’ guild.

– Something Red, Douglas Nicholas.