A little bit of silliness that can lift the spirits
SUMMER IS THE SILLY SEASON IN BRITAIN. WITH PARLIAMENT IN RECESS, SCHOOLS AND UNIVERSITIES CLOSED, NEWSPAPERS AND TV SCRAMBLE FOR STORIES TO COVER. SO, THE SILLIEST THINGS MAKE IT TO THE HEADLINES. NOW, WE DON’T HAVE A SILLY SEASON, BUT IF, LIKE ME, SILLINESS AMUSES YOU, HERE IS A SILLY READ.
Summer is said to be the silly season in Britain. With Parliament in recess, schools and universities closed, and people on holiday, newspapers and television scramble for stories to cover. So, the silliest things make it to the headlines. Now, we don’t have a specific silly season, possibly because our life approximates the ludicrous most of the time! But a little bit of silliness can always lift the spirits. So that’s how I’ll continue.
My dear friend Bambi has sent me a list of strenuous activities that actually don’t require much physical effort. When you don’t know what to do, try one of these — beating around the bush, jumping to conclusions, climbing up the wall, swallowing your pride, passing the buck, throwing your weight around, dragging your heels, pushing your luck, bending over backwards, eating crow, setting the ball rolling, going over the edge, picking up the pieces, and, something we all do, making mountains out of molehills.
Of Bambi’s list, my favourites are: Jumping on the bandwagon, running around in circles, blowing your own trumpet, adding fuel to fire, opening a can of worms, and putting your foot in your mouth. Some of this I do frequently!
The Washington Post runs an annual neologism contest. It’s one I follow assiduously. It comes up with very similar results. They ask readers to suggest alternative meanings for words of common usage. Some of the winners are truly clever, even witty.
Coffee has become “the person upon whom one coughs”; flabbergasted transforms into “being appalled over how much weight you’ve gained”; willy-nilly, as you may expect, was translated as “impotent”; whilst lymph was understood as “walking with a lisp”. Again, my favourite is balderdash, which has been interpreted as “a rapidly receding hairline”, and rectitude which has been deemed to be “the dignified bearing adopted by a proctologist”.
In contrast to The Washington Post, attempts are often made to create new portmanteau words which are submitted to the Oxford English Dictionary for inclusion. I’m not sure they will get accepted, but they’re amusing to peruse. Here are some of the better ones: Errorist (someone who repeatedly makes mistakes); askhole (someone who constantly asks for advice but ignores it); nonversation (a worthless conversation); textpectation (the anticipation one feels when awaiting a response to a text message); destinesia (when you get to where you were intending to go but forget why you wanted to go there in the first place); unkeyboardinated (when you lack physical and mental coordination and, therefore, cannot type without repeatedly making mistakes); cellfish (people who continuously talk on their cell phone oblivious of others around them); and, my favourite, deja poop (the feeling the same shit keeps happening).
If, like me, silliness amuses you, then there’s nothing to beat what I’m told is called The Drunk Poem. It’s a delightful verse, or do I mean worse? Read it slowly and carefully. It’s almost onomatopoeic. It starts relatively easily but, as the influence of alcohol progresses, the words change mischievously. You can sense the spirit taking hold of the poetry. But I think you’ll still get the meaning of what this poor drunken sod is trying to say:
Starkle, starkle, little twink, Who the hell are you I think. I’m not under what you call, The alcofluence of incohol. I’m just a little slort of sheep, I’m not drunk like thinkle peep. I don’t know who is me yet, But the drunker I stand here the longer I get.
So just give me one more fink to drill my cup,
Cause I got all day sober to Sunday up. Let me end with “hic”. What’s more to say?