Wordy fun

From an email from my friend Tania.

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Once again, The Washington Post has published the winning submissions to its yearly contest, in which readers are asked to supply alternate meanings for common words.

The winners are:

Coffee (n.), the person upon whom one coughs.
Flabbergasted (adj.), appalled over how much weight you have gained.
Abdicate (v.), to give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.
Esplanade (v.), to attempt an explanation while drunk.
Willy-nilly (adj.), impotent.
Negligent (adj.), describes a condition in which you absentmindedly answer the door in your nightgown.
Lymph (v.), to walk with a lisp.
Gargoyle (n.), olive-flavored mouthwash.
Flatulence (n.) emergency vehicle that picks you up after you are run over by a steamroller.
Balderdash (n.), a rapidly receding hairline.
Testicle (n.), a humorous question on an exam.
Rectitude (n.), the formal, dignified bearing adopted by proctologists.
Pokemon (n), a Rastafarian proctologist.
Oyster (n.), a person who sprinkles his conversation with Yiddishisms.
Frisbeetarianism (n.), (back by popular demand): The belief that, when you die, your Soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.
Mind you, my personal 2005 favourite comes from "I Am Sorry I Haven't a Clue":

Mishmash (v.):, to skip a religious service for reason of inebriation.
The Washington Post's Style Invitational once again asked readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition. Here are this year's winners:

Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.
Foreploy (v): Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.
Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period.
Giraffiti (n): Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.
Sarchasm (n): The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.
Inoculatte (v): To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.
Hipatitis (n): Terminal coolness.
Osteopornosis (n): A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)
Karmageddon (n): It's like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a serious bummer.
Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.
Glibido (v): All talk and no action.
Dopeler effect (n): The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.
Arachnoleptic fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you've accidentally walked through a spider web.
Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito that gets into your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.
Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after finding half a grub in the fruit you're eating.
And the pick of the literature:

Ignoranus (n): A person who's both stupid and an a _ hole.

Caffeinated randomness

I've noticed in the past year that I get bad headaches and nausea when I drink coffee. Usually coffee that tastes acidic. So I've strayed away from coffee lately. Tonight after dinner, though, we stopped by a Starbucks, and I got one of my favorite drinks from days of yore - the White Chocolate Mocha. Doing ok so far. Starbucks never gave me an icky feeling. Maybe I should just have Starbucks.

J said they should put alcohol in coffee. All I can remember is my EMT teacher telling us that mixing Red Bull (stimulant) and alcohol (depressant) will confuse your heart so much (since it won't know to slow down or speed up) that it will simply stop. Swell. Plus, you're not allowed to have open containers of alcohol in NYC. Or LA. Can you imagine if Starbucks put alcohol in your coffee? And you were pulled over?
"Uh, Officer, I swear, it's just a coffee. Want a taste?"

Hrm. How does Kahlua do it? Does Kahlua even have caffeine in it?

I think that coffee made me sleepy.

And finally, the best quote about coffee I've discovered lately:
"This coffee tastes like poopy shit!" ~Alice in TLW
Although my coffee tonight definitely did NOT taste like poopy shit. It tasted like delicious heavenly white-chocolately sweetness.

K. Time to finish watching my Netflix DVD so I can get a new one.

iPaddyness

Yes, folks. I have an iPad. Me. Who made fun of it since before it came out. Life's ironic that way, isn't it? It was given to me as a gift from the professor I TAed for this year, Mr. Aaron Cohen (of Anyclip - check it out).

I proceeded to spend 6 straight hours playing with it last night, from putting all the applications I ever owned from my iPhone onto the iPad, then realizing I had screen clutter, and a ton of applications that weren't compatible with the iPad. I went from 9 screens of applications to a screen and a half, and a mild case of iPad-finger - from the repetitive motion of deleting and confirming the delete for about 60 applications.

Then I watched an episode of Lost and an episode of Law & Order on it while on my sofa. And barely touched my laptop all night.

Aaron told me to tell him when I stopped carrying around my laptop. I should have said, "right away," because I don't carry around my laptop. But, pre-iPad, I was glued to it when I was at home - I always had it with me while I watch TV or read or write in my journal (which is handwritten), often while I learned new covers of songs or attempted (important operative word here) to play piano off sheet music from IMSLP.

But last night, with the iPad, I found I didn't really need my laptop for things that didn't require a lot of typing. With my butt firmly planted on my couch, I'm able to browse the web, look up that really cute actress from the L Word (which is a recent, and long overdue addiction) on IMDB, Facebook, search for song lyrics, read the news, answer emails (the quick, non-serious ones I can take care of while mildly distracted), even flip through a few digital pages of Winnie the Pooh (the free book that came with the iBook application). And the iPad itself fits nicely on my music stand and downloads and displays sheet music.

I was a bit disturbed that the iPad might prove my original prejudices wrong (in that, I was convinced it would never replace my laptop). But I started thinking back to those times before college (for me) when we didn't have our own computers. We had a family computer that sat in a very visible and common place, and the only times I would go on the computer was if I had to write a paper or chat with friends. Given the iPad's unconventional keyboard, lack of a good word processor, and inability to multi-task (ie: have multiple applications running at once), I still find my laptop indispensable. (we can go on forever making McLuhanesque arguments about the naturalization process of a new media or technology, but let's spare me the work of typing it out now that I have to be up very early tomorrow to have Mother's Day brunch with my mum)

It's almost as if I have reverted back to that time when I was not in front of the computer screen unless I had work or chatting or major emailing to do. And the other stuff, the time I would have previously spent away from the computer, is now consolidated on a thin electronic slab of digital beauty. As much as I don't want to play into the hype of the iPad or rave about how it's changing the technology of media, Aaron was right when he said there is something very intimate about using an iPad. And if I have to get up and charge it every 10 hours or so, well, I can live with that.

Reprise

It's fitting that I've been watching Angel, since I'll be moving back to LA in the fall.

In Season 2, there's an episode called "Reprise," in which Angel steals a ring that allows him to travel across dimensions. At the end of the episode, he asks to be taken to the "Home Office," a thinly-veiled metaphor for Hell. Here's the scene. Holland Manners was a lawyer who was killed off earlier in the season, and comes back:

Holland is standing in the open doors of the elevator slowly clapping his hands.
Angel walks slowly closer.
Holland: "Congratulations. Great victory."
Angel: "You're..."
Holland: "Holland Manners."
Angel: "...not alive."
Holland: "Oh, no. I'm quite dead. Unfortunately my contract with Wolfram and Hart extends well beyond that. (Gives Angel a big smile, then motions his head) Hop on in. You certainly earned it."
Angel slowly steps in, looking at Holland, who laughs.
Holland: "No. Not a ghost here. No, it's just me. Dead me. (Pulls the collar of his shirt aside to show Angel Darla's bite marks, then reaches for the elevator buttons) See? - Home office, wasn't it? I should mention the trip is one way."
Angel stands in the elevator looking out, not saying anything.
We see a homeless person pushing a loaded down shopping cart across the plaza in front of the elevator.
Holland: "Well, if there are no objections, I suggest we get going. It is rather a long ride."
Holland pushes the 'down' button. The doors close and we see the elevator descending down the elevator shaft.
Angel and Holland are standing side by side in the elevator as the lights from the floors it is passing flash by and typically annoying elevator music plays in the background.
Holland: "Well, this is exciting, isn't it? (Smiles) Going straight to the source. - So, what's the big plan, Angel? Destroy the Senior Partners, smash Wolfram and Hart once and for all?"
Angel: "Something like that."
Holland: "Hm-mm, now tell me just what do you think that would accomplish? In the end, I mean."
Angel: "It'll be - the end."
Holland: "Well, the end of you, certainly. But I meant in the larger sense."
Angel: "In the larger sense I really don't give a crap."
Holland: "Now I don't think that's true. - Be honest. - You got the tiniest bit of 'give a crap' left. Otherwise you wouldn't be going on this Kamikaze mission. Now let me see, there was something - in a sacred prophecy, some oblique reference to you. Something you're supposed to prevent. Now what was that?"
Angel: "The apocalypse."
Holland: "Yes, the apocalypse, of course. - Another one of those. Well, it's true. We do have one scheduled. And I imagine if you were to prevent it you would save a great many people. Well, you should do that then. Absolutely. I wasn't thinking. - Of course all those people you save from that apocalypse would then have the next one to look forward to, but, hey, it's always something, isn't it?"
The elevator shaft and cable dissolve as the elevator continues to plummet into a hellish red glow.
Angel: "You're not gonna win."
Holland: "Well - *no*. Of course we aren't. We have no intention of doing anything so prosaic as 'winning.'"
Holland laughs and for the first time Angel turns his head to glance in Holland's general direction.
Angel: "Then why?"
Holland: "Hmm? I'm sorry? Why what?"
Angel: "Why fight?"
Holland: "That's really the question you should be asking yourself, isn't it? See, for us, there is no fight. Which is why winning doesn't enter into it. We - go on - no matter what. Our firm has always been here. In one form or another. The Inquisition. The Khmer Rouge. We were there when the very first cave man clubbed his neighbor. See, we're in the hearts and minds of every single living being. And *that* - friend - is what's making things so difficult for you. - See, the world doesn't work in spite of evil, Angel. - It works with us. - It works because of us."
And with that the elevator comes to a screeching halt.
The doors open and Angel looks out to see a homeless person pushing a loaded shopping cart across the plaza in front of the Wolfram and Hart Office building in LA.
Holland: "Welcome to the home office."
Angel: "This isn't..."
Holland: "Well, you know it is. - You know *that* better than anyone. Things you've seen. Things you've, well - done. You see, if there wasn't evil in every single one of them out there (Angel watches as some people in the plaza start yelling at each other) why, they wouldn't be people. - They'd all be angels."
The glove drops from Angel's right to land on the floor of the elevator and Angel slowly shuffles out of it.
Holland calling after him as the doors close: "Have a nice day."

What strikes me about this scene is how heartbreakingly poignant its message is. We're brought up to believe in good and evil, with good always seeking to do away with evil, but the fact of the matter is, like everything in life, good can't exist without evil. Absolutes must co-exist. If they don't, they are rendered meaningless. We can't have good without evil, freedom without repression, right without wrong.

Of course, the definition of absolutes is problematic as well. Maybe it's just all on a spectrum, and trying to define the extremes simply complicates everything.

Also hits close to home for me, as they're saying LA is hell here. Of course it is.