Today’s Wayno /Piraro Bizarro:
A flasky put-down pun, from the hip flask to the lab flask (if you’re puzzled by the odd symbols in the cartoon — Dan Piraro says there are 4 in this strip — see this Page)
First, the pun: in the adjective hip ‘following the latest fashion, especially in popular music and clothes’ (NOAD), punning on the bodypart noun hip in hip flask. Now, all the lexical flask stuff.
(Moves quickly into the male body and man-on-man sex, in street language, so not for kids or the sexually modest)
Terrible days in the heat, barely functioning, while I accumulate promises to write on various topics, praise scholars of note, and follow up on earlier postings. So I’m feeling singularly inadequate — have in fact reached the point of taking a posting, any posting, off the gigantic heap of things in preparation, just to get something, anything, done. (Meanwhile, I’m supposed to be cheered that the day is predicted to be “much cooler” than yesterday — a high of merely 86F instead of 98F. That would still leave me breathless, profoundly exhausted, and unable to think clearly. I did go out at 6:30 am to water the plants in the cool of the morning, to protect them from heat death, and that actually was pleasant. Now I’m just avoiding going outdoors.
In any case, this is bringing you a follow-up to my 5/11/24 posting “The gay handshake”, which was about the trope of the blowjob as gay handshake. Today it’s the penis as gay scallop shell, on (images of) cocks as a gay equivalent of (images of) scallop shells — penises as a design motif in decor. Dicks treated like not only scallop shells, but also thistles, dolphins, pineapples, roses, tigers, bumble bees, lilies, elephants, and peacock feathers (and many other things) as figurative motifs. Alongside more abstract motifs, like the fleur-de-lis, Greek key, quatrefoil, genital triad, Chinese knot, chevron, star, and paisley motifs. And color motifs, like the Princeton orange and black, the Ohio State scarlet and gray, and the gay rainbow flag colors.
(Even choosing my words carefully, a fair amount of this posting is going to be inappropriate for kids and the sexually modest; you’ll see why in a couple of seconds)
Two themes for today: tools, and their masculinity; and male-male frottage, especially one variant of the Princeton rub. Somewhat astoundingly, these two themes intersect in what I think of as the Princeton rub tool: a dual masturbation sleeve, a device to facilitate two guys getting off together face to face.
Today’s Wayno / Piraro Bizarro takes us to the world of talking tennis balls, where one of them commits a bathroom pun on the noun can ‘cylindrical metal container’:
(#1) Cylindrical metal containers are highly salient to tennis balls, because such cans are how they’re sold (if you’re puzzled by the odd symbols in the cartoon — Dan Piraro says there are only 2 in this strip — see this Page)
Meanwhile, Wayno’s title for #1 — “Today’s Ballsy Cartoon” — offers a different pun, on (tennis) balls, a mildly raunchy one: ballsy ‘tough, courageous”, a derivative in –y (tricky < trick, mushy < mush, etc.) from crude slang balls ‘testicles’. And my title for this posting (“In the can”) offers another pun on cylindrical container can; from NOAD:
phrase in the can: informal on tape or film and ready to be broadcast or released: all went well, the film was in the can.
Now for some details.
Breezed past me on Facebook this morning, this Benjamin Schwartz cartoon (from the 5/6/19 issue of the New Yorker) that made me laugh out loud at its absurdity:
(#1) So festive! Transform any cocktail, in any kind of cocktail glass (the one in the cartoon is a coupe /kup/, a good glass for, say, a daiquiri), into a shrimp cocktail, by hanging some shelled, chilled cooked shrimp (such as anyone might just happen to have a pocketful of on them — this is where I dissolved in laughter) all around the lip of the glass
Even better: the classic shrimp cocktail is already an antic hors d’œuvre, a preposterously elaborate presentation of shrimp, sauce, and sourness (most often, from a lemon slice) that might have been served more simply on a tasty bit of bread, or in a small bowl or cup. With a name — shrimp cocktail — that’s a pun.
So what we see in #1 is in fact goofy-squared.
(Playing around with English morphology and male masturbation, so not to everyone’s taste)
It all started with a chance encounter with an ad for Jackery portable power stations, like this one:
(#1)
Given the orientation of my imagination, I was immediately taken to the idea of jackery ‘male masturbation, jacking off’, at places especially devoted to the practice, jackeries (aka jack-off / jerk-off / JO clubs). Clearly not what the Jackery Company had in mind, but where did they get their name?
From the “get to know Jackery” page on the company’s website:
(#2)
Jackery was established in 2012 and co-founded by a former Apple senior engineer and a CEO called Z Sun, a pioneer in the field of Li-battery technology. The original founder developed a battery jacket for the Apple iPhone, which is where the name Jackery comes from.
… Jackery makes portable power stations, solar panels, solar generators, and accessories for the outdoor and mobile market, but they are best known for their portable power stations.
So Jackery has the derivational suffix –ery (denoting ‘a place where some occupation, trade, or activity is carried on’) attached to an abbreviated form of jacket, referring to one of the company’s first products.
The details of words with the the noun-forming derivational suffix –ery are not at all straightforward, full of oddities of history; it’s not a particularly productive suffix. But there’s enough there that you can play with it.
On to this interesting messiness in some detail, and moving from battery jackets to male masturbation.
(Warning: this posting will immediately descend to crude jokiness on male genitals and masturbation, so it’s not to everyone’s taste)
To celebrate Masturbation Day, today’s notable occasion (in my household, every day is jack-off day, but the celebratory holiday comes around only once a year): the Zwicky Linemaster hose end pressure controller, from a vintage UK ad for aviation supplies (advertised on eBay), with its language repurposed here to cover the fluid pressure of ejaculation (which varies considerably in the male population, while being largely out of conscious control):
(#1) The ad from eBay, for some Zwicky Limited (of Buckinghamshire in southeast England) aircraft equipment, for controlling hose pressure during fueling
Today’s holiday news: today is (at least) three holidays, one deadly serious, two entertaining. I will discourse later about Four Dead in Ohio Day (remembering the 1970 Kent State shootings), Star Wars Day, and (in the US, where May 4th is 5/4) Dave Brubeck Day (for the 5/4 time signature in music). (Oh, there’s also a very local holiday, the Palo Alto May Fête, lightly connected to Cinco de Mayo, which is tomorrow — but the fête is always on a Saturday.)
But first, the actual topic for today: a custom-made eggcup.
The eggcup, 3D-printed in purple and pink plastic, was given to me last Saturday by Elizabeth Daingerfield Zwicky, who recognized that I could use a lightweight, nearly unbreakable replacement for the white porcelain eggcups and demitasse cups that I’ve using for my five daily dosages of medications (an hour before breakfast, with breakfast, with lunch, with dinner, at bedtime) — the porcelain resources I’ve gradually been destroying, smashing by accident because they’re too heavy and slippery for my disabled hands. EDZ’s intention is that there should be more, enough that I can retire the remaining porcelain cups. No more little shards of glass on the kitchen floor.
A photo (inexpertly achieved with my new little camera) of the 3D printing and the porcelain alternatives:
In the front, the 3D delight, looking very purple in the photo; then, on the left, a demitasse cup, and on the right, a conventional eggcup
Two more 3D eggcups have (just) now appeared. Two to go.
From Ned Deily, reporting from Paris on Facebook today, this shop sign, suggesting that amz is everywhere:
(#1) As you can see, this isn’t Arnold Melchior Zwicky, but Anne Marie Zahar, of LUMINAIRES DECO DESIGN ANNE-MARIE ZAHAR CRÉATION (website here); what she’s selling is lighting: a small number of high-concept (and expensive) floor lamps and ceiling lights
I slept from 7:30 to 4:15 last night, with some of the most distressing grotesque dreams I’ve ever had in my life, awakening frequently with terrible muscle cramps. Eventually I turned the dream around to something life-affirming and pleasant, but I awoke dead-exhausted from the night, confused and bewildered, and with screamingly sore muscles all over my body (for the record: I have had no fever or other clinical signs of infection, and I test negative for COVID).
Not really able to face the day, I retreated to botanical art from the 19th century, as presented to me recently by the Sierra Club, in a set of five greeting cards with flower illustrations from The American Flora of 1840-1855; see yesterday’s posting “My wild valentine”, about the plate of the wildflower Potentilla atrosanguinea. Another plate from the Sierra Club set — this time for a garden flower, a daffodil — caught my eye and moved me to toss off a little poem leading up to the label on the American Flora plate:
(#1) A poem to the intriguingly named three-anthered rush daffodil
