Archive for July, 2025

Of money, class, and prejudice

July 31, 2025

🐅 🐅 🐅 Three tigers for ultimate July, while we anticipate the inaugural rabbits of August and the cheese and chocolate of 🇨🇭 Swiss National Day🇨🇭 — we await the edelweiss-bedecked Helvetia!

The territory. Meanwhile, I’ve been re-establishing an old friendship, one that goes back to childhood: Bill and I met at Camp Conrad Weiser, a YMCA-sponsored summer camp in the hills of Wernersville PA (some of these details will become relevant). We were later at Princeton together, and in the summer of 1961 (after my parents had moved on to California, while I continued my job as a reporter on the Reading (PA) Eagle and needed a place to stay), he offered a guest room in his family’s big house on Reading Boulevard in the suburb of Wyomissing —


(#1) An aerial shot of some big houses on Reading Boulevard (a stock photo from an article on Wyomissing as a planned community); there was housing for the rich on the boulevards, with workers’ housing in separate sections of Wyomissing (one of which my father grew up in) and on the side streets along the boulevards, in the adjacent boroughs of West Wyomissing, West Lawn (where I grew up), and West Reading, and in Reading itself

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Two footballs, passing in the night

July 30, 2025

Very briefly (it’s been a hellish day). In my comics feed for today, penultimate July, Mark Parisi’s off the mark cartoon of 7/16/25, in which an AmE football and a BrE football fail to hook up with a sportsball of their own kind — next to one another in a bar.

In the RomCom version, of course, they go on to find satisfaction in hooking up with (aka dating) one another, in the thrill of the new and different.

Otherwise, you see the pitfalls of dating through text only; if they communicated by voice, they’d get nationality information. (Though in the real world, a British football would know that such a brown sportsball was called a football in the US. Whether an American football could be depended upon to know that a soccer ball was called a football in the UK is not so clear to me.)

 

 

The pink Hello Kitty superhero

July 29, 2025

A few days ago, Chris Ambidge re-posted a version of this remarkable image of a Hello Kitty Superhero, pretty in pink, as a little gift for Leith Chu (it’s a Canadian panda thing):


(#1) CA’s image — which he first posted for LC 13 years ago — came with some identifiers as to its source, while the image above, with no meta-data at all, is the one I found on Pinterest yesterday; I found Pink Hello Kitty Superhero delightful, admired his attitude, enjoyed the earnest heroic stance, the sheer cuteness of Hello Kitty and that pink bow, and the pink and red superhero costume, gorgeous in its triumphant fagginess

I had hoped to track down the source, through those identifiers, but as I was preparing to copy CA’s version to my computer, it vanished, poof, from FB — and, it turned out, from CA’s files. So all we have is my image from Pinterest (which is utterly uninformative, but apparently safe from meddling), which I’m posting on my blog but not on FB, just in case it too is in danger of being disappeared.

Before I go on to discourse on butch / macho fagginess, so nicely illustrated in #1, a few words on why I’m so bent on posting this bit of fluff today.

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Reading signs

July 27, 2025

Rina Piccolo’s Rhymes With Orange strip of 7/21 presents us with a dog that can read — not just converting text to sound (speaking written or printed matter aloud), but, crucially for the strip, converting text to meaning (‘looking at and comprehending the meaning of written or printed matter by mentally interpreting the characters or symbols of which it is composed’ (a definition adapted from NOAD)):


(#1) Panel 1: happy dog, in a state of innocence; panel 2, where all the action happens: dog sees sign, recognizes that it is a sign, reads it, understands that the sign says that its reader should beware of some dog in the sign’s surroundings (specifically, in the yard the sign is posted in), and recognizes that it is a dog in that yard, consequently concluding that it is the dog the sign’s reader is supposed to beware of, and unpacks the meaning of imperative beware as a warning, about the potential danger of this dog, therefore concluding that it has a reputation as a dangerous animal; panel 3, dog exhibits ferocity fitting to its reputation, by growling at passers-by

So that is one astoundingly clever dog. with an understanding of English and a ton of culture-specific information (about keeping dogs as pets and confining them in enclosed yards, about issuing warnings, and about the interpretation of material printed on signs, not to mention self-recognition, the knowledge that he is a dog). Why, you might think that dog was human — an American, in fact.

Now, some earlier postings (from 2015 and 2021), and notes from 2018 for one that never got posted, because it had started to branch into an essay on everything there is to say about signage– so here you’ll get the notes.

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Now Playing on A.I. Radio

July 26, 2025

A new intricately playful Bizarro series (by Wayno) began on 7/14, with two word boxes, a supertitle Now Playing on A.I. Radio and a regular title; the regular title is a play on the name of a musical group that you might hear on the radio, but with the name altered as if it had been retrieved by a somewhat loopy associative AI program; and with an image that illustrates the goofy name. And then Wayno supplies a further jokey title that’s a play on a further name or title connected in some way with the cartoon. The series, with all of these moving parts, was still going today, 7/26.

Here I bring you the second and third strips, from 7/15 (Wu-Tang Clam) and 7/16 (Bob Marley and a Whaler). Today it’s The Mamas and the Pupas, and I’m one happy cartumer (ok, ok, cartoon consumer).

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F-lexicography

July 26, 2025

(all about the F-word and its uses, so obviously not for kids or the sexually modest)

Another posting that’s been hanging around for months. I argue that the OED treatment of the semantics of the sexual verb fuck is unsatisfactory, not compatible with the actual usage of English speakers for a long time now — apparently because earlier lexicographers, embracing normative views of sexual behavior, posited a single sense of sexual fuck, centrally denoting an agentive act of penis-in-vagina intercourse but with a large penumbra of vagueness, embracing many other sorts of sexual encounters. Then this inadequate treatment was adopted without comment or critique in Jesse Sheidlower’s The F Word. So that essentially all the authoritative literature on sexual fuck gets things wrong. I will explain; there will be no pictures.

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New Year directives

July 25, 2025

Yes, about wishes for the new year of 2025. I am absurdly behind on my postings.

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Tip of the tongue

July 24, 2025

The briefest of shots. Following on my posting yesterday “A Monty Python formula pun”, Benita Bendon Campbell wrote to say that she has been reading The Autobiography of the Pythons by Chapman, Palin, Cleese, Gilliam, Idle, and Jones (originally published in 2003) and reports that in it, John Cleese goes on at length about Clump of Plinths, a successful Footlights Club show at Cambridge (pre-Python); he really loves that show.

Clump of Plinths is evocative of (I think) some Scots expression that’s distressingly on the tip of my tongue but is being blocked for me by Firth of Forth. Or maybe that memory of mine is an illusion. My mind is in a whirl.

 

The discontinuous groin

July 23, 2025

(About male crotch care, carefully phrased, but still deeply into male crotches, so not to everyone’s taste.

From a morning some time ago, after a pleasant long sleep that ended with a hot sex dream that turned into a sweet romantic dream, from which I awoke feeling especially refreshed. Got to the morning wash-up portion of the program (scrub hands, refresh face, wash crotch); if you take quick whizzes every hour during the night, bedside, then your hands and all of your crotch, from pubes to perineum, need a serious washing (and your damp briefs go into the laundry basket, to be replaced by fresh dry skivvies). Normally the crotch wash is a brisk businesslike affair, pleasing but in no way sensuous — but on this morning my body was singing along with my spirit, and I experienced the cleansing as a delicate, luxurious massage of my guy parts. It was delightful.

I began humming the tune to “Der Vogelfänger bin ich ja / Stets lustig heissa hopsasa!” (I find Papageno inspiring) while I went through the routine: pubes and the belly just above them; penis shaft and base; testicles; the clefts on either side of the genitals, alongside the thighs; and the perineum. Along the way, I idly wondered what those clefts — roughly analogous to armpits — were called. When I got to my computer I quickly discovered that the compound thigh pit (analogous to standard armpit and informal elbow pit ‘the inside of the elbow’ and knee pit ‘the back of the knee’; this is the world of paired bodily concavities, or clefts) was moderately common (a few cites below); that crotch pit seemed to be used only for the perineum; and that the noun groin ‘thigh pit’ was also common (a few cites of both groins below).

Then, since there’s a use of the noun groin for the whole area (in kick him in the groin and the like) I went to see what NOAD said about the paired concavities. And was mightily surprised to find that it seemed to maintain that the groin was a spatially discontinuous region of the body, not unlike the nation of Pakistan at the time of the partition of British India into separate nations of India and Pakistan, with Pakistan coming in two widely separated pieces: West Pakistan and East Pakistan (now Bangladesh). For the groin, one region, two sides; not two paired bodyparts. This view of the semantics of groin is shared by the Wikipedia entry. But not, it seems, by most speakers.

A careful look at the OED (in an entry still in revision) suggests that it’s the source of the confusion, since it attempts to treat the bodypart noun (in things like along with my armpits, both my groins are sweaty and in need of deodorant) and the body region, or place / location, noun (in things like the glands in my groin, on both sides, are swollen) with just one definition (despite their different semantics and distinct syntax), and mixes examples of both types.

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A Monty Python formula pun

July 23, 2025

Benita Bendon Campbell wrote me yesterday to report a Monty Python (setup / payoff) formula pun joke that had come up on her Facebook feed, thus providing me with a moment of comic relief from my posting about  — here we cheer — being saved from death by the skill and caring of others and then — here we weep — finding that my previous life was entirely gone, to be replaced by one of isolation, disability, and pain, which I had to negotiate by reinventing myself as best I could. Meanwhile, I embrace joy, playful delight, and (I know of no better term) moral purpose, to steer me through the swamp of despair. I have recently celebrated moral purpose (in my 7/20 posting “Days of memory”, with a section on the Good Trouble National Day of Action); today, it’s playful delight.

The joke. As it came to Bonnie:

I was staying at a small family owned hotel in Madrid when I suddenly became ill, nauseous with a fever. My Spanish language skills are limited, so I called the front desk. The concierge told me that the inn had an English speaking doctor on call, and they would send him up to my room. Twenty minutes later the doctor had treated me and my fever and nausea were subsiding.  I mentioned to the doctor how lucky it was that the inn had an English speaking doctor on call. Without missing a beat, the doctor smiled and said:

No one expects the Spanish inn physician

Here you groan. You really are expected to groan; that’s the canonical response to a setup / payoff formula pun — the formula in this case being the tagline from a Monty Python routine (slightly misquoted in the version Bonnie came across):

Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition

(The joke is an imperfect pun, the pun having /f/ where the model has /kw/.)

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