Words *3

 I am going to write a semi-political post which focuses on something i am passionate about -- words. I use 'em, I teach 'em and I study 'em so I'd like to talk about them.

Words have meanings. That's a fact. However, words sometimes change their meanings over time. We all know the origin of the word "nice" and how it changed from an insult to a nicety. But that doesn't mean that we should burn all the dictionaries because words keep evolving; words still have intended meanings. So now I get to the heart of the matter -- here is a word "genocide."

Words exist in a variety of contexts and often, their meanings shift depending on context, and one of the most basic forms of miscommunication is caused by the speaker and the listener not sharing a common contextual-definition. If we import a meaning from another context, we run the risk of not being understood. In regular American conversation, one can use a word like "murder" and not mean it in the strict legal sense. It might be used hyperbolically, or it might be used loosely (that is, not confined to a strict meaning but can be used to refer to a larger category which is somewhat connected to the core meaning).

"Genocide" has a meaning under international law. It is a technical term defined in the legal (Geneva Convention) context as "any of five specific acts committed with the intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial, or religious group"

But the word has been used much more loosely during its history. The word has been used to refer to any type of cultural erasure, or even to atrocities which are horrible and tragic, but not, strictly-legally speaking, genocides. The problem arises when people using the term loosely think that, because the word has commincative value, it can be imported into the legal definition and the loose definition can be used to qualify for the legal consequences. That's not how things work. If I call a particular baseball line up as "murderer's row" that doesn't mean that their actions are now what qualifies for the legal title "murderer." Seeing someone who committed manslaughter and calling him a murderer might feel acceptable but it doesn't change that the legal definition would not apply.

The same holds true for "antisemitism." The word was coined to mean a specific thing. It wasn't a construction which took a known noun and stuck a convenient prefix on it. People have taken the technical word and deconstructed it because they see it in loose use and because they are under the belief that the word is simply the result of gluing its parts together. The Daytona 500 is a race but someone who dislikes it isn't a racist even though the root word is there.

But, you say, the word can grow and evolve and can now mean something different.

Well, yes and no. You can call a potato an onion if you want, and if the people around you agree to that, they will understand the intent behind your use of the word "onion." But anyone in the cooking schools of the world will not because they do not subscribe to your forced evolution of the word. And that locally recognized understanding cannot then be applied to pre-existing cook books and other texts which use the word accurately. Until the authority that enshrined the definition agrees to change the legal definition, any individual's use of the word in another context is at least somewhat inaccurate. Misusing it then impacts others who hear the word used and assume that it is being used accurately. Twisting words and inserting a personal understanding is much larger consequences.

Genocide isn't just any war. Zionism refers simply to the right of a group to self-determine. Antisemitism doesn't mean "being against someone who calls himself a semite". These words mean specific and intentional things. Respect them as technical terms and don't water them down by using them loosely and expecting the world to sign on to your particular interpretation.

Let's write a joke!

Why yes, today's task is to procrastinate and not write a college recommendation. So instead, I'm going to over analyze the construction of a joke I thought of this morning and you are just going to have to be satisfied with that.

The basis of the joke, as for many, is self-deprecation and the mode is a subversion. Start with the bare bones setup:

1. I get confused for a celebrity

2. That celebrity is not one to whom it is flattering to be compared

Mix in some tone and language to make it seem informal/conversational.

That's the easy part. So the basic iteration would be

"People stop me on the street all the time and say I look like a celebrity. But who is Joseph Merrick?"

that has a reference in it which some will get and some won't, and it plays off my ignorance so I don't know I am being insulted.

I could have said "but why is it always Joseph Merrick?" This would have meant I was not ignorant, just insulted -- different mode of humor. It would still not be understood by some.

I could change to any pop-culture reference as long as that referent is unattractive (and that would affect the balance of the humor).

A subtler formulation might be a pop culture reference with no explanation. Consider the following options:

"People tell me I look like Vic Tayback" (he is ugly)

"People tell me I look like Vic Tayback in 1989" (when he was old and uglier)

"People tell me I look like Vic Tayback in 1992" (2 years after he died)

Mixing and matching setups and adding in the bells and whistles, we could end up with

"so the guy got me mixed up with a celebrity. He said I looked like Vic Tayback..."

"That's nice of him to say"

"...in 1992."

Note the broken-up delivery and the use of the date after the confirmation. Similarly I could have constructed

"I don't mind being confused for a celebrity but does it have to be Vic Tayback?"

or

"Hey you look like Vic Tayback!"

"Thanks, but isn't he dead?"

"yes."

The only thing we have to fear is everything

I recall having a conversation with my dad about the world. I complained that I couldn't let my kids out of my sight and he insisted that the world was no less scary when I was younger, but that we weren't aware of all the bad in the world because we didn't have the internet etc. He didn't see the world as grown scarier, but our awareness as out of control.

The fact is, things were different. Maybe there were fewer bad guys, or we were just blissfully ignorant of life beyond our neighborhood. I saw an online video crowing about how special my generation is. It posited that those of us who grew up in the 70's had a unique balance of unstructured freedom and technological simplicity and emotional resilience and maturity. I assumed it would be one of those "rah-rah" videos which spouted generic platitudes about one era so those people can feel special, but then it can be easily tweaked to celebrate another era. I likened it to those shirts that have the "Only the coolest people were born in _________" and the consumer can buy a shirt listing any year. 

But the argument actually bore itself out well. I did leave the house in the morning, not to return for hours. I did bike miles away with no phone or plan. I did have to fill up the time left to my own devices. And none of these are skills that my kids have had to develop or behaviors that I would allow. I kept much closer tabs on my kids -- they couldn't ride around the block without my knowing exactly when to expect them to make the turn back onto our street. I didn't let them go somewhere unless there was a plan for the end as well. Am I more worried than I need to be? Maybe, but better safe than sorry. So I over compensate, reversing the way I was brought up and encouraging my kids to live in fear of the world.

Is the world scarier? Do children need to be kept closer? Is this an expression of love that I didn't see from my parents so I'm trying to break a cycle? Is it the result of the craziness I ran into while unsupervised, as a child?

A Divine-graine

 I believe that, over the last year or two, I have developed a close relationship with my creator. I feel God's presence in my life very often in the subtle miracles which we often fail to recognize. Here is a little and dumb event:

fact -- two days ago, I noticed that my bar of soap has gotten so small that I need to start another one. The bars are stored under the bathroom sink. I forgot to take one out the next day (in the haze of the early morning, I am usually driven by muscle memory and instinct).

fact -- I get headaches, or at least I used to. My current regimen of pills has done an incredible job of keeping the headaches away so headaches are now very rare. Breakthrough headaches show up less than once a month these days.

Yesterday, I had a headache. Nothing too crazy but a good sized ache behind my right eye. I powered through work as it worsened, but when I got back to my place, I knew I would need to take an analgesic. So I wandered into the bathroom, conscious of nothing but a headache, opened the cabinet and saw the pills...right next to the bars of soap.

Yes, I truly believe that HKB"H gave me a headache to ensure that I remembered to set up a new bar of soap for the next morning. These little "coincidences" are the signs of an intelligence, a divinity that shapes our ends.

But the next thought is that, even though it is a sign from above, a headache is still a physical event that hurts like heck. A flame, no matter who lights it and why, can still burn you.

Mein Kraft

 I have some very deep and confused thoughts that I'm trying to figure out. I saw the Minecraft movie last night. I have never seen or played Minecraft and went into the viewing experience the blankest of slates. After watching it, I still know nothing about Minecraft. The difference is, now I'm also stupider in general.

This was the worst movie I have ever seen, but in a good way. I don't think I can explain it any better than that. It was horrible, but its intentionality, its sincerity in pursuit of being actively bad was a redeeming factor. I have seen bad movies that are just plain bad. This was bad but also, horrible.

Jack Black overacted. But he must have known he was overacting, and the writing demanded incredible overacting. So while I never had any understanding of his character or the driving logic of his actions, I stopped getting annoyed at his Adam Sandler-esque childlike behavior because he knew he was being idiotic and that's intentional.

There was nothing good about the movie except for some of the one-liners. I wish I remember any of them, but I do recall laughing loudly at some isolated moments, and shaking my head in absolute wonder at the stupidity on the screen at other moments. I did write down one joke 

Waitress: Are you finished?

Marlene: No, I think he's Swedish. But we're done with our meal.

That's a dumb joke, dumb on a dad level. But it was delivered unexpectedly and quickly.

On the whole, self indulgent, poorly written and presented, over acted and under developed. I never enjoyed watching what Big Dave calls a "steaming pile of monkey crap" as much as this. That doesn't mean it is any less monkey crap, but it is monkey crap with glitter.

There was a preponderance gratuitous violence including much ham to ham combat which I found amusing. Not the combat, but that it inspired me to write that comment.

Durn young 'uns

The kids came by today. We had a great visit, got stuff done, made fun of me. It was, in a word, "hoot". In 2 words, "a hoot." 2 words and punctuation; apologies. 

 Hours later, after life had clicked back and we are all somewhere else, I walked into the kitchen and noticed crumbs on the floor. I'm no cleans-horse but I had made an effort in advance of the little ones' appearance. But now, despite my efforts, there had been schmutz there all along? Mortified I was (not a palindrome, BTdubs) until I crouched down and investigated further. 

These were matzah crumbs! One might deduce from this that while one says he vacuums his house once a month, he is a liar as he would have done it at least once since Passover ended. But instead understand that my two children had spent a few minutes of their time with me standing in the kitchen, joking with each other and (most importantly in one particular sense), eating matzah!

Now exonerated of certain charges of slovenliness I still had to contend with the crumbs and I, like a dutiful old man, got my vacuum and started vacuuming vast swatches of my apartment, grumbling under my breath "dang kids, come here, eat my stuff and make a mess and then suddenly just HAVE to leave when it comes time to do some cleaning." 

 And I smiled broadly the entire time I said it.

---edit

Originally sent from my phone as an email. I did not know that that would remove all formatting. Apologies to those tortured by the wall of text. 

My New TV Show Idea!

I am hereby pitching the following television series. I think it will be a complete smash, so please send checks to me, care of me.

We have seen the adventures of Henry "Indiana" Jones as he battles Nazis, mad cultists, Communists and Nazis. He has crossed oceans and fought bad guys everywhere from here to there and Nepal (which is neither here nor there) leading to 5 movies and a show about his childhood, The Young Indiana Jones Chronicles. But what about that other element of his life? How did he grow into the polished academic we all know and love?

It is time for a show that explores Dr. Jones, the archeaologist, and his Quest for Tenure. Episodes follow department meetings, political infighting and the constant fear of publish or perish. We will have to cast a young Marcus Brody and even Salah can be part of the action as we first meet him when he is still an international student in the B School. Imagine the wild chases through the stacks as Indy fights a deadline while trying to track down an elusive footnote. Dreaded confrontations with students during office hours, students who ask for extensions due to laziness. Poisoned apples, constant papercuts and ink blotches and complaints about grades haunt the young Prof as he negotiates the tenure track, keeping lunch meetings and rescheduling review sessions because he has a podiatrist appointment.

A sure fire hit. I figure Ryan Gosling as Dr. Jones. Send me my money.