Showing posts with label names. Show all posts
Showing posts with label names. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 16, 2022

Bunch o' critters.

We often hear that animals have curious names when they get together. One raven is okay, but you get a bunch in the same place and you have a conspiracy. Owls, on the other hand, prefer to be a parliament. And a bunch of otters is a family. Which is nice. 


rat
A "mischief" of rats


Some animals seem to have chosen the cool names themselves, like a pride of lions or a sounder of pigs. Others got stuck with the leftover names, like a sloth of bears or a smack of jellyfish. Some seem to have taken more deserving names from others -- while the pandemonium of parrots comes across as pretty appropriate, did anyone ask the pandas what they thought?

Along these lines, I have twenty animals that I thought could use new and better collective nouns. Let's see what you think. 

A dress parade of chinstrap penguins

A beer run of  Clydesdales

A coatrack of ibexes

A cuteness of red pandas

A hellspawn of mosquitoes

A dropbox of koalas

A cuddle of anacondas

A film noir of pandas

A classroom of hamsters 

A catastrophe of turkey vultures

A chorus line of blue-footed boobies

A bloodbath of honey badgers

A bluh-blah-bluh of vampire bats

A laugh track of hyenas

A Targetful of ladybugs 

An outbreak of spotted salamanders 

A fart of blowfish

A Jonathan of jackrabbits

A shelling of snails

A lotl axolotls

I was going to come up with one for egrets, but I have no egrets.


🐠🐙🐘🐗🐖🐌🐍🐎🐏🐅🐂🐃🐄🐈🐉🐊🐋🐟🐞🐝🐜🐥🐭🐮🐨🐩🐫🐪🐭


That's all I have today. As always, your further suggestions are welcome in the comments.

Thursday, September 29, 2022

Choco Dotsties!

I don't want you to think I get all my Many Deep and Varied Thoughts from the New York Post. But it an interesting paper. Sometimes they have the best exposés, of course, and are willing to publish stories that the rest of the media would rather bury. Sometimes, though, they're just dumb. 

As we barrel down the chute to the various candy seasons of Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, the paper thought it was time to shock its readers with a bit of information that has always been readily available online and isn't all that interesting. Brace yourself: 

M&M’s fans discover meaning behind the chocolate’s name


The two ‘M’s in the name actually represent Forrest E. Mars Sr. – the founder of Mars – and Bruce Murrie, the son of Hershey Chocolate’s president William F. R. Murrie.

Now, to be fair, this article was originally published in Australia by another Rupert Murdoch outlet. M&M's is the little candy that started in the United States and spread all over the world, and the story of how it was invented may be less familiar to our friends down under. 

M&M's



In a nutshell, or in a candy shell as it were, per Wikipedia:

Forrest Mars Sr., son of the Mars Company founder, Frank C. Mars, copied the idea for the candy in the 1930s during the Spanish Civil War when he saw soldiers eating British-made Smarties, chocolate pellets with a colored shell of what confectioners call hard panning (essentially hardened sugar syrup) surrounding the outside, preventing the sweets (candies) from melting. Mars received a patent for his own process on March 3, 1941. Production began in 1941 in a factory located at 285 Badger Avenue in Clinton Hill, Newark, New Jersey. When the company was founded it was M&M Limited. The two 'M's represent the names of Forrest E. Mars Sr., the founder of Newark Company, and Bruce Murrie, son of Hershey Chocolate's president William F. R. Murrie, who had a 20 percent share in the product.

I got to thinking about this story, about the famous names connected to candy, namely Hershey and Mars. Both became famous because the inventors put their names on their popular chocolate bars. You didn't ask the candy butcher for a slender American-style milk chocolate bar; you asked for a Hershey bar. Back then, companies were named after their founders, men who wanted fame for a successful venture, but also were proud to back their products for quality. If you put your name on something and it sucked, people knew whom to blame. Further, putting your name on a product helped protect it -- someone could steal the formula for the Mars bar, but they wouldn't steal the name of its inventor.

Interestingly, that doesn't happen with a lot of confections now. Now, for ease of soliciting a trademark and for consumer memorization, companies tend to name their products something weird that will indicate in a way what it is. For example, Smash Mallow, which I sampled here in 2018. You know it's going to be a mashup by the name, and that it's going to be marshmallow. And it's a phrase that didn't exist before, so that makes it easier to obtain trademark. If M&M's were invented now, they might be called Choco Dotsties!

The exception to this rule is snacks. Those carry the inventors' names. The Great Lileks mentioned these "boo-teek" snacks the other day on the Bleat, "Amanda's Kettle-Baked Chips or Monica's Pita Fragments, the ones that always have a story about someone who had an idea and a passion".

This seems to have started with Annie Withey, who founded Annie's Homegrown in 1989. Her products became quite popular -- so much so that General Mills bought the company for $820 million in 2014. Now everybody wants to come up with a snack idea that will get popular traction, get the attention of a food conglomerate, and cash out. 

I know I do. If I can just perfect my recipe for Frederick's Chocolate Lima Bean Snack Surprise, I can retire, I just know it! Watch for it in your local supermarket. 

Meanwhile, I wonder if the Mars company is ready for a big takeover. This photo also ran in the Post



Sure, Elon may have been talking about the planet Mars. Or maybe he's in the mood to snap up some chocolatey goodness....

Thursday, August 18, 2022

Baby name or microbe?


Ming the Merciless, Ruler of Planet Mongo, Invites You to Play a Round of ...

Baby Name or Microbe!

Based your performance on his tests for Prescription Drug or Fictional Planet, you had better really ace this one ... or you shall become Patient Zero in the Evil Testing Ward! Get out your pencil and paper!

BABY NAME or MICROBE?

1. Yersinia

2. Adamaris

3. Wahchinksapa

4. Demodex

5. Walvia

6. Neisseria

7. Helianter

8. Galido

9.  Ibtesam

10. Xalvadora

11. Ascaris

12. Klavdiya

13. Prokaryote

14. Vibrio

15. Quirtsquip

16. Nipah

17. Archaea

18. Spirilla

19. Jyotika

20. Ulises


👶🍼🦠🔬👶🍼🦠🔬


MERCILESS ANSWERS

1. Yersinia: Microbe -- genus of bacteria including Yersinia pestis, the black plague

2. Adamaris: Baby name -- girl's name, means Noble of the Sea per babynames.com (where Ming got all these baby names)

3. Wahchinksapa: Baby name -- Sioux boy's name; means wise

4. Demodex: Microbe -- a microscopic human mite 

5. Walvia: Baby name -- Native American for medicine root

6. Neisseria: Microbe -- genus of bacteria that includes Neisseria meningitidis, which causes (duh) meningitis

7. Helianter: Microbe -- a subgenera of paramecia

8. Galido: Baby name -- Spanish boy's name of unknown origin

9. Ibtesam: Baby name -- Arabic name for girls, meaning smiling

10. Xalvadora: Baby name -- Spanish for Savior (female version)

11. Ascaris: Microbe -- genus of parasite

12. Klavdiya: Baby name -- Russian for lame (girls' name -- even Ming thinks that's cruel)

13. Prokaryote: Microbe -- single-celled organism with no nucleus

14. Vibrio: Microbe -- bacteria in the family Vibrionaceae

15. Quirtsquip: Baby name -- Comanche, meaning chewing elk

16. Nipah: Microbe -- a type of zoonotic virus (from bats), which can cause encephalitis  

17. Archaea: Microbe -- a type of prokaryote

18. Spirilla: Microbe -- bacteria with a spiral shape, found in stagnant water

19. Jyotika: Baby name -- girls' name, Indian for light or flame  

20. Ulises: Baby name -- alternate Latin form of Odysseus (Ulysses); means to hate


MING CALCULATES YOUR SNIVELING SCORE:

20 -- You're either a huge fan of babies or of diseases; either way, wash your hands!

15-19 -- Ming admires your knowledge and offers you a place in his fiendish organization. He offers you a job naming new minions from among the Cave Monsters and testing evil viruses on them.

10-14 -- Ming tells you to study more and has you given a swirlie in the space toilet.

6-9 -- Ming scoffs and tells you to go back to school. He also calls you a double dumbass, which could get him a stern e-mail from HR. Then he has you given a swirlie in the space toilet.

0-5 -- Ming sends you to work in the evil biological warfare lab. You shall have to survive at least five dread diseases to apply for parole, so you had better hope the scientists are doing a poor job. The last guy who got out had permanent barbershop stripes all over him, like a stick of Fruit Stripe Gum. Mwah ah ah! 

Tuesday, December 7, 2021

Where my head is. At.


Actually, this is pretty much the way I am all the time. Is it business? Busyness? Bidenness? Am I just so full of trivia that I can't make room for new data? I'm voting for the last option, as you can see.  

Tuesday, July 7, 2020

Puzzle Key.

Lookit this dumb thing.


Personally, I don't believe that only 3% of adults can find the different 'KEY.' I think only 1% of adults with normal vision can fail if they take the time to do it, and that 1% is dumber than a sack of cannonballs.

When you have a name like Key, people tend to send you things like this that connect with your name. Usually jealous people, people who have spent their lives spelling out names like Protheroe or Yevdokymenko or Bhattacharyya or Constantinides or Luxuryyacht. (All real names.) (Well, almost.)

There are worst things than having the name of a common object, even if it's an object that has some bad associations, especially one known for always getting lost. In college I knew a guy named Cash, and always wondered if people were hitting him up for money. He's made of money, right? Of course some names are a lot worse, like Wiener, which seems to have been the former congressman's destiny as well as his burden (alternate spelling). On the whole, animal names like Fox or Wolf or even Buffalo would be better. Then again, I never met anyone whose last name was Chicken or Turkey.

Are you familiar with any bad object family names? Or animal names? I'm always curious about this. Not that I'm sulking over the vicious attack on the statue of my dear relative Francis Scott Key, to whom I am not related. I do think they should melt the statue down and make prison bars out of it for the people who destroy public property, That's one way to lock 'em up and throw away the Key.

I'll be curious to hear your thoughts. Meanwhile, I'll be waiting patiently in my usual spot, under the doormat.

Sunday, June 14, 2020

Rating Jacob's kids.

We're getting biblical here, folks! By that I mean we are looking some personages of the Bible and rating them by what could possibly be the dumbest criteria available -- their names.

Specifically I'm focused on the twelve sons of patriarch Jacob, who has name issues too, as he was also called Israel. What's up with that? Run out on the landlord and change your name? Har har. Okay, that's even too dumb for this blog entry.



Here are the boys, in their birth order. Now, remember, we're not ranking them based on who they were or what they did, although that may get a mention; this is all about how cool or dumb their names are to our modern ears.

  1. Reuben
  2. Simeon
  3. Levi
  4. Judah
  5. Dan
  6. Naphtali
  7. Gad
  8. Asher
  9. Issachar
  10. Zebulun
  11. Joseph
  12. Benjamin

Now, the examination:

Reuben: Eldest son of Jacob and Leah. Made one crucial error: forced himself on his dad's concubine. That cost him Dad's blessing, as it will. But then again, when the brothers planned to kill Dad's fave, Joseph, Reuben tried to save him. As for the name, many Americans may associate Reuben with the manager of the Partridge Family. Not as old-fashioned as other Genesis names, but not popular either. Great sandwich, though, even if the origin of it is disputed. Ranking: So-so.

Simeon: Also called Shimon, but we're only looking at the Simeon version. And I think we can all agree that through no fault of Simeon's or any one else named Simeon, it sounds like the adjective for apes and monkeys (simian), which is inviting playground horror, especially on the monkey bars. Also, Simeon was a vengeful boy, along with brother Levi, but we'll get to that. Ranking: Poor.

Levi: Best known now as the name of Mr. Blue Jeans himself, Levi Strauss. Interestingly, Levi Strauss's name at birth in Germany was Loeb; he thought it didn't sound American enough when he emigrated to the states, so he changed it to Levi. And yet Levi sounds olde-tyme and foreign now. I think there used to be a lot more Levis in America. The original Levi and his brother Simeon pulled a fast one that got them in Dutch with Dad: When their sister was raped, and the villain's father wanted to make things "right" in the Old Testament way by arranging their marriage, Levi and Simeon insisted that it could be so if their whole town agreed to be circumcised. Owie! "While the men of the city are incapacitated by the pain of the surgical procedure they have just endured," says My Jewish Learning, "Shimon and Levi swoop down and massacre one and all. Jacob has been deceived into complicity with the diabolical and immoral behavior of his hotheaded sons. He has been duped into inclusion in a council of lawlessness bent on the angry slaying of men." Doesn't have much to do with the ranking of the name, but maybe it's why Levi isn't more popular. And I'm glad I don't live in Old Testament times. Ranking: Below average.

Judah: Nothing wrong with Judah, but since a portion of the nation of Israel became known as Judah in 930 BC and was referred to that way in the New Testament, it tends to be thought of as a name properly used by Jewish people rather than goyim, which limits its popularity. Place names can be that way. The names Jude and Judd likely come from Judah, but we're not concerned with derivations today. Ranking: Just okay.

Dan: Hey, that's a fine name. Usually a nickname for Daniel, but if you named your boy just Dan, most people would never know he wasn't Daniel. But you would know. Ranking: Goodish.

Naphtali: I think you'd have to be pretty hard-core to name your son Naphtali, either hard-core biblical or hard-core pretentious. The name means "My Struggle," which might appeal if his mother was in labor for three days with him, but so does Mein Kampf. Plus, it sounds way too much like Natalie. Ranking: Rock bottom.

Gad: Gad, on the other hand, means "Fortune" or "Luck," which is good. But it sounds like W.C. Fields taking the Lord's name in vain. Also, the name may have come from a pagan goddess, which makes it stranger. And it is a verb meaning to move around restlessly and pointlessly, which makes it a poor name for a man with a serious career, like mortician or septic tank engineer. Just seems a little silly. Ranking: Meh.

Asher: I'm not crazy about Asher, but I feel like it has more modern acceptance than most of the others. I've heard of boys named Archer and Fisher, and those seem like career-defining names, or hobby-defining games anyway. How does one ash? Well, that's not what the name is about. It means "Happy," which is nice. Ranking: Above average.

Issachar: Got to tell you, I like Issachar. As names go, it may be my favorite of the twelve. Dramatic. Manly. It lends itself to Izzy, which is a better nickname than most. But while it can sound cool and interesting, it can also sound fusty and weird. Maybe it depends on the kid. Still, I'm in Issachar's corner, although I am sure I would never be allowed to name a son of mine Issachar Key. Ranking: Good.

Zebulun: And this is my second-favorite name. Jacob clumped the best near the end. To anyone not versed in the Bible, this could seem like the name of a planet from Star Trek. "Stardate: 8137. Tuesday. We arrived at the planet Zebulun V to retrieve the Federation ambassador. Then it all went to hell." Zebulun means "Dwelling," which sounds kind of homebodyish, and its obvious nickname, Zeb, calls to mind a wacky old toothless farmhand. Then again, so did names like Zack and Zeke not long ago, and they've had a renaissance. Ranking: Needs improvement.

Joseph: Now we come to Mighty Joe Young, the hero of the closing chapters of Genesis, the interpreter of dreams and Pharaoh's BFF. Of all the sons' names, Joseph is the most normal and even boring to modern ears. Joe Six-pack, Good ol' Joe, Joe Bloe, Average Joe. But was this the case before the twentieth century? There's never been a Joseph I, King of England; the Roman church has never had a Pope Joseph; we've never had a president named Joseph (not yet, anyway!). It's still a grand name, the name of my Confirmation saint, but maybe a little too common even now. Ranking: Way up there.

Benjamin: Benny's original name was Benoni, "Son of My Pain," from his mother's agony at giving birth to him, the act that killed her. Naturally, Jacob preferred something less horrible, especially since he was fond of Benjamin's mother, so he changed it. Ben was the only full-blood brother of Joseph, for what that's worth. Anyway, yes, great name. Ben Franklin made it an American classic. It works in multiple ways, too: Ben is great for a serious leader, Benny for a wily jokester, Benjy for a cute kid brother, Benjamin for a stuffed shirt, Jamin for ... Ska improv? French ham? Ranking: Top drawer.

All right! Let's put the names in the processor and see what we got:
  1. Zebulun
  2. Issachar
  3. Joseph
  4. Benjamin
  5. Asher
  6. Reuben
  7. Dan
  8. Levi
  9. Gad
  10. Judah
  11. Simeon
  12. Naphtali
There you go! Now if anyone asks you which name was the fifth-best among Jacob's sons, you will know. Be here next time when we sort out everybody in Judges 2! 

Tuesday, January 28, 2020

Name that dog!

Our dogs like Milk-Bone brand treats, and Milk-Bones have advantages over other dog treats -- for us anyway -- they don't stink and they aren't mushy. You can carry one in your pocket without having to dry-clean your coat. I think they're fine as part of the dogs' balanced diet, and if they have that then their diet is better than mine, anyway.

But I bring it up actually to bring up the dog name issue again.



Bones for Friends is a limited edition version of the standard medium-size Milk-Bone biscuits with popular dog names printed on them, as you can see. Well, I purchased this box, but I'm bound to be disappointed. As Milk-Bone says:

Our original biscuits have popular dog names on them! Reach inside and find the perfect treat to celebrate your Best Furry Friend. Found you [sic] friend’s name on a bone?

Not likely. As you, dear readers, know, we named our dogs Tralfaz and Nipper. Tralfaz was the original name of George Jetson's dog Astro when he was owned by the neglectful but wealthy J.P. Gottrockets. And Nipper, in addition to being a good description of our younger dog when he was a puppy, is the famous mascot of RCA Victor. Neither of these are popular names.

Our friends at pet-supply retailer Chewy recently released a list of the most popular pet names for the year based on customer profiles, and it's pretty blah. Dogs:
  1. Bella
  2. Max
  3. Lucy
  4. Luna
  5. Daisy
  6. Charlie
  7. Bailey
  8. Buddy
  9. Molly
  10. Sadie
It's the same damn names every year. Not that there's anything wrong with them; they're cute and cheerful, and most are two syllables, which are easy for dogs to remember and to distinguish from other sounds we make. But they're dull. And very much like the top ten cat names -- half are identical. I am of the opinion that a solid cat name should not make a good dog name, and vice versa, and yet here are Luna, Bella, Max, Lucy, and Charlie.
  1. Luna
  2. Bella
  3. Oliver
  4. Lucy
  5. Charlie
  6. Max
  7. Milo
  8. Kitty
  9. Leo
  10. Shadow
BORRRing, people. Be creative! Be different! Come on, this is one time in life where you can name something that won't turn on you later for it.

"DAMN IT, MOM! I don't care if Bertha was your favorite aunt! IT'S A STUPID NAME!"

"Bertha, please! I think it's a lovely name. And I'm sorry if you don't care for it, son."

And what's with all the Bella stuff? It can't be because of the Twilight movies, can it? If pop culture was driving this I'd expect to see more Harrys. Look at the others: Buddy. Sadie. Where do they come from that everyone's using them? (I guess of all the Irishy names people like to stick on dogs, like Seamus and Jameson, Bailey was the only one that was used enough to stand out in the crowd.)

The New York City dog licensing people made a search feature to show how many registered dogs in the city have a particular name. And yeah, it's the same stuff. Bella: 1,195. Max: 1,153. Charlie: 856.

Nipper: 3. Tralfaz: 1. Although there are 34 Astros.

So I figured there's not a chance of finding my dogs' names in this box of cookies. Then I pulled one out -- this is, honest to goodness, the first one out of the box:



Macie? That's not on the top ten list. There's only 7 Macies in all of New York City.

So, who knows? I'll keep you informed. Maybe Milk-Bone was willing to go the extra length for the sake of all the canine Berthas out there. (Four Berthas in NYC right now.)

🐕🐕🐕

P.S.: To our friend Mongo, regarding his late pup Raven, there are also 7 Ravens currently in New York. There's 1 dog in town named Mongo as of this date, BTW. For some reason I could not get it to tell me how many dogs have Raven's old nom de net, Mongrel, so I assume none.

Sunday, January 19, 2020

Yek.

Every kid finds out at some point what his name spelled backward is. Although it was sad to find out my last name becomes Yek -- as in Yecch! -- it was certainly not the worst, and had the benefit of being easy to say.

Some such names are pretty useless. Smith becomes Htims; Jones becomes Senoj. Hard to pronounce, not much fun anyway. My grammar school had a lot of Irish, Italian, and Jewish kids, so most of them were completely messed up, like an Oihccevled or Ydducilligcm or Zitwokfel. You can't do anything with those kinds of names. You can't even pretend they are magic words -- you couldn't possibly say them fluidly, and they look like what they are -- backward last names. Only Zatanna or her dad could make them work.

First names were a little better. We had Retep, which sounds like it might be Indian or Pakistani; Kram was funny; and we had a lot of Nhojs. I didn't mind Derf, although it sounds like an insult. Yek! Derf! seems to go together all too well. Kcirederf, the full version, sounds like a Hungarian insult. Yek! Kcirederf!

The girls didn't fare much better. Annod wasn't too bad, but Yhtak is just a mess; we had one Eveiveneg among the group, as I recall.

Celebrities and other well-known persons make interesting mangles when backward. Naihsadrak Mik, Sboj Evets, Sknah Mot, Pmurt J. Dlanod -- they all look like something a mad Serbian scribbled on a cocktail napkin after the PCP kicked in.

You want to know: What about the dogs? Well, Tralfaz would become Zaflart, which is even worse than his actual name; Nipper is Reppin, which could be Japanese, I'm thinking.



I remember thinking that names spelled backward would be good to use for passwords or secret messages, but I have never managed to do so. When the time comes even now, in an era where passwords are much more important than when I was a kid, it's not popped into my head to use Derf or any of the other variations.

As I think about this silly topic, I remember we had one Bobby in my class, who for the sake of the pastime insisted on being Bob. That way instead of being Ybbob (pronounced Eebubob), he would just stay Bob. That was probably a smart play, but it felt like he was being boring on purpose. At least he could have been Trebor.

Sunday, January 12, 2020

Fred red.

You probably don't know this, but I have a lipstick named after me. May I present: Fred.

Seriously, it's Fred.

But wait! you say. You, manly traditional masculine man that you are, you do not wear lipstick. And you, or at least your avatar, are not red. Sickly green, perhaps, but not red.

You are correct, sir. And perhaps I am stretching the truth juuuuust a hair when I say that this Fred Crème Lux Lipstick is named after me.

My wife subscribes to a number of YouTube videos, many having to do with her interests in crafts and dogs, but also that of makeup guru Safiya Nygaard. Safiya, blessed with an excellent sense of humor, has made a career of not just doing makeup, but also doing goofy things, sometimes with makeup and sometimes not. She made a cake out of lipstick, which is supposed to be edible -- but it turned out that edible ≠ delicious. She also melted down tons of lipsticks into various "Frankenlipsticks" to see what the dominant colors would be. When she combined a bunch of reds together she got the above shade, called Frankenred, or Fred for short. Then, when she released her own line of lipsticks, Fred came along for the ride. (For the record, she does have a green-gray lipstick, but that one's called Brucie and is definitely not my sickly avatar green.)

So now you're thinking that the connection between myself and this tube of lipstick is even more tenuous than you expected. And you're right.

But you see, when your name is the 881st-most popular men's name in America (at least as of 2002, according to the Social Security Administration), you have to take your wins where you can find them.

So thank you, Safiya, for naming a lipstick Fred and thus helping to keep the name in the public consciousness. Maybe by 2022 we Freds will have climbed up to 860th on the list, thanks to your efforts. And you know just what we'll say: We're No. 860, so we try harder.

Thursday, September 5, 2019

Fun with trademarks!

In the editing business, one perennial bugaboo is the issue of trademarks. Trademarks, and their kid brothers service marks, are intellectual property and should be capitalized. They include Budweiser, Marlboro, Green Mountain, Apple, Yankee Candle, Walt Disney World, Colt .38 Super, Chantix, and so on and so forth. If they appear in print or online, in nonfiction or fiction, they need to be capped. Unless they are out of context. Or dead.

Apple, of course, when referring to the computer company, is a trademark. But just because they own that trademark doesn't mean that you need to cap apples. Unless the apples HAS a trademarked name! For example, the names Honeycrisp and Gala were at least at one time trademarked for apples, so although their status is not clear at the moment, they are usually capped. The McIntosh is not a trademark, but is the name of the man who discovered the apple, so is also capped.

Elsewhere on the food front, cheeses are often capped because they are named after a place, like Camembert and Brie. But sometimes they are trademarked, like sorta-cheese Velveeta. And sometimes it doesn't matter. There is a place called Cheddar, a British village, but their cheese went out and conquered the world, so it is no longer associated strongly with that place and generally not capped anymore. Although it is sometimes. But that's not a trademark issue. It's house style issue. (Every publisher has long lists of house style peculiarities and preferences for the sake of internal consistency.)

Artificial substances can be very frustrating. Latex? Not a trademark. Nylon? Dead trademark. Spandex? Not a trademark. Neoprene? Not a trademark. Rayon? Not a trademark. Nitrile? Not a trademark.

Aha! No synthetic materials are trademarked!

Tyvek? Trademark. Dacron? Trademark. Tencel? Trademark.

We just have to look up crap like this all the time.

If you're in the field -- like, a communications executive for a cheese company -- you may eventually know the status of every cheese name there is off the top of your head. But then you'll run into something like Kobe beef and you're off to the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office site. (For the record, the K in Kobe beef is capped as a place name, but Certified Kobe Beef is a trademark in its entirety, and there are lots of other trademarks connected to the famous meat, but many are dead.)

Companies often fight like hell to make sure their trademarks are identified as such, because if they get used as ordinary nouns, or verbs, guess what? The USPTO kills the trademark. That's what happened to aspirin, corn flakes, linoleum, and yo-yos. So Xerox, Kleenex, and all those other common trademarks are jealously guarded, because the act of guarding them keeps them alive. If the company won't fight for it, it must not matter, right? And this is why humorless letters are sent from company law departments when they see acts of infringement.

Xerox used to have a bigger problem protecting its name before computer files made hard copies less important, and I suspect Kleenex as a trademark is actually made safer by the loss of market share to competitors like Puffs, Northern, and Scotties. People are less likely to just "grab a Kleenex" now than they were forty years ago.

I see a lot of trademarks that people mistakenly forget are trademarks. Some common violations include:

  • Munchkin (for doughnut-related products)
  • Solo (cups)
  • Crock-Pot (say slow cooker)
  • Rice Krispies (especially as Rice Krispies Treats)
  • Ping-Pong (yes, the game; call it table tennis)
  • Popsicle (Unilever owns it so don't listen to people who call it generic)
  • Baggies (still owned by Reynolds Wrap, although the actual product line seems to be discontinued)
  • Marshmallow Fluff


Hell yeah, they're still making this stuff

On the other hand, some well-known trademarks have lost their status. You may now lowercase dumpster, thermos, and windbreaker in peace.

Google is being stupid about theirs, I think. It comes up constantly as a verb, to the point where most publishers I work with have thrown up their hands and said, "All right, if the people want to say they'll 'google' stuff, leave it lowercase." Google may think that this means free publicity, and that they don't care because they have more money than God, but the Trademark Office is as picky as a copy editor in a bad mood -- if they don't try to protect the name "Google," people will start infringing it with impunity, and they'll be powerless to stop it. Or maybe they've anticipated that, which is why they changed the main company name to Alphabet. I have no idea what they're thinking out there.

The protection of trademarks makes the development of innovative products profitable, which is an economic good for all of us. So that's why we editors do our bit to protect the live trademarks. Also, we hate getting letters from attorneys. Does anybody like getting them?

Thursday, April 18, 2019

Wrong Said Fred.

Any major holiday says "family," doesn't it? And thus it also says "annoyance." Of course they push all your buttons; they were the ones who installed them.

One thing that's always been curious to me are family nicknames that break out into the wider world. You will occasionally encounter something like the man who introduces himself as Cooter, and it turns out that his younger brother couldn't pronounce his actual name of Cooper, and everyone in the family started calling him Cooter, and it stuck to this day, and he's 71 years old. That's a long time to be a cooter. 

Fortunately I did not have that kind of an issue. Mine is much more common; at home they called me Freddy, which helped distinguish me from my dad, Ed (not Eddie). A lot of guys will stick to the childhood diminutive, calling themselves Eddie or Chucky or Bobby or Jimmy all their lives. The teachers called me Fred, though, so that's what the kids at school called me. It became the way I would introduce myself. Nowadays I'm Fred to everyone except my family -- with some exceptions. 

One guy I know calls me Right Said Fred, and has done since that wonder had its one hit in 1991. Another likes to call me Freddy Krueger, which I'm not fond of, although I have to admit I like the character's snap-brim fedora. 

lookin' sharp
I've gotten the Flintstone treatment off and on for years, which bothered me as a child but less so when I got older. Fred Flintstone is, after all, a man of many admirable traits. I just wish I didn't share his physique.

Strangely, despite my attraction to cardigans, I've seldom been compared to Fred Rogers. He was so calm, so wise, so not-screaming-his-fool-head-off, that I guess people sensed we were not interchangeable.

I have sometimes been called Astaire by wits who have seen me try to dance. In one psych class a couple of the girls called me Sigmund Fred, which I still think is funny. I've gotten a few Fredericks, which is fine, and Frederick the Great, which is better. Generally I've refrained from using the full Frederick as too formal; I use it on writing and such just to stand out from any Alfreds or Fredas or Fredericas or plain Freds named Key that might be around.

Oh the whole, as fusty and unpopular as Fred may be, it's really a pretty good name, not too given to mockery, at least not since I was in grammar school. Kids always find things to mock about one another in grammar school anyway.

I know a Mark who is enraged by being called Marky Mark, feeling that he's been stuck with Mark Wahlberg's cast-off stage name. I know an Ed whose friends have assured me that his nickname is Oed, as in Oedipus, but clearly this in-joke is hard to express vocally. Whatever your name is, someone can use it to stick a bad name on you, though.

So what's your lousy nickname story?

Wednesday, March 27, 2019

50 Excellent Baby Names.

Provided you don’t know what these words mean.


I used to work with an outfit that did a lot of baby information for mostly new, panicky parents, or prospective, panicky parents, and one of the perennial hot topics was "What to name the little beggar?" One day I drew up these lists of words that sound like they would make lovely names, but clearly would be terrible names. As always, your contributions in comments are welcome.


GIRLS
  1. Glioma
  2. Tibia
  3. Chrysophyte
  4. Atresia
  5. Amnesia
  6. Lacuna
  7. Coprophagia
  8. Phosphate
  9. Armadillo
  10. Magnesia
  11. Carious
  12. Ulna
  13. Colitis
  14. Timpani
  15. Encephalitis
  16. Patella
  17. Cassava
  18. Aorta
  19. Abrade
  20. Catatonia
  21. Hernia
  22. Uvula
  23. Sulforaphane
  24. Coenuri
  25. Paramecia

BOYS
  1. Avidin
  2. Lithium
  3. Langostino
  4. Senega
  5. Attar
  6. Valium
  7. Fluke
  8. Atrium
  9. Nominal
  10. Suttee
  11. Isobar
  12. Seppuku
  13. Mandible
  14. Saphenous
  15. Geritol
  16. Arrogant
  17. Ramose
  18. Bark
  19. Virulent
  20. Rancor
  21. Kern
  22. Scolex
  23. Scorbutic
  24. Cestoda
  25. Chromium

Tuesday, January 29, 2019

Characters that killed names.

I was thinking about the unpopularity of certain great names -- like, oh I don't know, Frederick -- and how they often become unpopular because they get linked in the popular consciousness with certain characters. It doesn't even matter if the character is supposed to be a goofball; just the fact that a name becomes famously associated with a character makes it toxic playground fodder. And I ought to know, having been called Flintstone for most of my childhood.

Here are some examples.

Lois -- There is nothing wrong with the name Lois. It's pretty, but not too girly; it's Biblical; and it means "more desirable." And it hasn't been in the top 1,000 names on the Social Security Index of popular baby names in this century. Why? Because every Lois is going to be asked how Superman's doing (hyuk hyuk hyuk). On that note, Clark, popular at one time due to Clark Gable (which is how the character Clark Kent got his first name), has fallen off, but strangely is making a comeback; from #761 in 2000 to #380 in 2017. Doesn't that open up boys to get a beatdown in the schoolyard? ("Guess I got a pocket fulla kryptonite, huh?") I wonder if hipsters have started to name their daughters Clark. (Funny note: Superman's creators were not thinking of the Lewis and Clark expedition when they named Lois and Clark -- just a coincidence, I guess.)

On the topic of superhero first names, I've addressed Bruce before (#431, currently in a long holding pattern).

Homer -- Okay, Homer was never going to be popular again unless there was a big revival of classical learning in this country, which, given the state of modern colleges, is rather somewhat less than impossible. Kids come out dumber than they went in. Even if that were not the case, The Simpsons killed all hope of a Homer revival. Bart and Bartholomew are also not in the top 1,000. (Trivia note: Something about the name Homer seems to attract doughnuts, as in the book Homer Price and two films made of the titular character's adventures with the baked goods. Maybe it's the big O in Homer that does it.)

Bert and Ernie -- And speaking of duos, one doesn't meet many Berts or Ernies around since Sesame Street introduced its iconic Muppet roomies. There are Ernests -- but at #967, barely in the top 1,000 and falling almost every year since 2000. Clearly, there is no longer any importance to being earnest. Albert is hanging in there at #430, but has been dropping steadily since it was #280 in 2001. Not sure whether we can blame the fall of Albert on Bert, as we don't know if that's Bert's full name, and Fat Albert didn't do the name any favors. But Bertram hasn't in the top 1,000 for like, ever. Something's making Bert fail.

Felix and Oscar -- Another outstanding name-killing duo are Felix and Oscar from The Odd Couple, but the further back the movie and the TV show recede in our cultural memory the safer Felix seems to become. It has climbed from #376 in 2000 to #276 in 2017. Oscar's fortunes, perhaps conflated with that of the well-known grouch, have gone in the opposite direction, falling from #122 to #192. I think the reason the name ranks even that high is that there's a lot of love for it still in Hispanic communities.

Spiffy and Fleabag are not in the top 1,000...
Coincidence? 

Archie -- Had to have been killed by Archie Bunker from All in the Family; neither Archie nor Archibald are in the top 1,000 names. There was a time when we had Archies all over the place, but I guess we used them all up, and now they're gone.

Marsha, Marsha, Marsha! -- Of all the names from The Brady Bunch, Marsha is the best remembered, which seems to have killed it outright. Marsha Brady was pretty and popular, but the name doesn't rank in the top 1,000, even with the more cultured spelling Marcia. Jan as a girl's name is also not in the top 1,000, by the way, so Jan's revenge is incomplete.

Casper -- I usually think of the villain from The Maltese Falcon first, but the Friendly Ghost is the one that probably still leaps to mind for most people. Others may think of Caspar Weinberger, the late secretary of defense, or a variation of the legendary name for one of the Magi. I will go with the ghost, because Casper (or Caspar) is not in the ranking, and thus a ghost of its former self.

Donald -- Been a long, slow decline for Donald; currently at #488 but at #217 in 2000. Yes, Donald is a little geeky, but Don is cool. Many cool Dons out in pop history. I think Disney's duck has slowly strangled the name. You might as well name your kid Daffy.

Dexter and Hannibal -- Popular culture's favorite psychopathic murderers have not only killed dozens of characters in horrible ways, but they've also killed their names dead. Too bad; Dexter is associated with right-handedness and thus propriety (also dyeing, which is weird); and Hannibal was the general from Carthage who almost destroyed Rome. Good names with a lot of life left in them... but not anymore.

For the record, Frederick is bobbing around at #494. Barney and Wilma, though, aren't in the top 1,000.

To be fair, most of these names are considered dorky now anyway, which is why they were chosen for those characters. It helps make them memorable. Most are boys' names, maybe because boy characters are dorkier than girl characters, or maybe because girls are stealing all the good boy names.

I think eventually Harry (as in Harry Potter) might get the treatment, when the books and movies start to look old-fashioned. Maybe around the time there's a big Bertha revival.

Monday, January 28, 2019

Stop stealing our names!

Freditor's note: The brief essay below was written for my old, defunct blog, in discussion of a matter of national interest -- the constant swiping of boys' names for girls, which immediately and irrevocably turns them into girls' names forever. I thought I had rerun this piece before and wanted to link to it in regard to another topic, and was shocked to see that I had not. Well, here it is, with a little updating. We'll address the other topic on Tuesday.


👦👧👦👧👦👧👦👧


I guess it's a class thing. Poor folks seem to like to make up weird names for their children, like Nevaeh ("It's heaven backward!" Which would be...hell?). I can appreciate the idea; every child is precious and unique, so why not a unique name? Etc. Okay, I would not do that, and I am very glad my parents did not do that, but point taken.

The normal names seem to hit the middle class. Johns, Marys, Roberts, Jerrys, Jills, Lauras, Freds (!), Marions, names with a solid track record tend to come from the solid middle class.

Then there are the upper classes--think Park Slope and up. These folks have some odd notions of names. This is nothing new. They like to use last names as first names (Madison, Murphy, ) or places (Brooklyn, London) or ancient Biblical or just out-of-date names (Zeke, Agatha). I guess it works out okay -- if your first name is O'Hara, are you in danger of being picked on by little Methuselah and Throgs Neck? You can all suffer together.

But one thing I object to is the blatant thievery of moms stealing men's names for baby girls. We lost Tracy, Leslie, Lindsay, and Morgan some time ago. We're losing Jordan, Drew, Dylan, Cameron, Brett, Alex, Gray, Ellery, Jesse, Parker, Schuyler, and others now. Many are not stolen by outright theft, but by taking a girl's name and shortening it to the boy's name (like Alex, Bobby, Micky, George, Sam, even Fred!).

Nameberry lists a bunch of unisex names, noting that "Most unisex names lean at least slightly towards one gender or the other". But in fact, once a name has leaned toward the girl side, it's dead as a boy's name. Even in these modern times, no person with any regard for the opinion of anyone else names a boy Sue.

So stop stealing our names! (We still have James, but he may be going fast....) Goodness knows they're stealing everything else from boys. 

Saturday, January 5, 2019

Baby name update.

We're all waiting for the boys down at U.S. Social Security to compile the lists of top baby names from 2018. I have no idea when they release these things. Fortunately we have the top names of 2017 to keep us interested in the meantime:
1LiamEmma
2NoahOlivia
3WilliamAva
4JamesIsabella
5LoganSophia
6BenjaminMia
7MasonCharlotte
8ElijahAmelia
9OliverEvelyn
10JacobAbigail

I shouldn't have to mention that the second column features the top girls' names. But these days, when having a schmeckle is no impediment to being an actual woman, I suppose I ought to. 

I have to say, I'm stunned at the choices that have arisen lately. Wolverine is #5?

When I was a boy, being an Oliver or a Mason was a one-way ticket to Swirleyville on its own. Trust me, it was hard enough to be a Fred. The only Olivers I have ever known were a man in his eighties (if he's still around, he'll be damn near 100) and the unfortunate only child of a creepy dork dad. The less said about Cousin Oliver from The Brady Bunch the better. The only Mason I ever met was younger than that elderly Oliver, but not by much. Where are all these new Masons coming from? Is this a sign that the Freemason conspiracy is on the move?

But Liam has made even greater strides over the years. And it's always nice to see good old Biblical names like Elijah and Ben and Jacob and James populate the list. But how long has it been since John and Joseph were in the top ten?

On the distaff side, I support the strong showing by more mellifluous names like Abigail, Evelyn, Amelia, and the like. All of these are lovely names. You don't have to give a girl a name like Brooklyn or Max or Tank to make her a badass, if that's what you want. She'll get there, or not, on her own. (But you just never know -- a woman I used to work with who grew up as a two-fisted tomboy expected the same of her daughter, but last I heard, that kid wanted nothing but pink dresses and tiaras and unicorns.)

Many names have been popular over the past 100 years and have sunk deep on the lists now. I don't know if I've met a Randy who was born after 1970, although perhaps the name is more popular in the South or West. Terrys, Eugenes, and Vincents are in short supply these days. Martha and Shirley have probably had their day in the sun for a while. And Amazon has probably killed Alexis

Sadly, Fred was not on the top 100. I feel betrayed somehow. Worse, the last time I covered this issue, I called on American moms to use great Papal names like Hilarius and Zosimus, but they rejected my idea. Betrayed and ignored.

Names should not just be a popularity contest anyway. Everyone who follows American elections closely has strong feelings about how wrong the American voter can be, and it's easier to get rid of a bad congressman than a bad name.

So here's my idea: To choose America's top baby names, get one baby of each name, put them in a big ring, and the last infant standing is the winner. Sound good? 

Friday, January 4, 2019

Big G is watching you.

One thing that I see from time to time in copyediting and proofreading work is that some writers and editors insist on lowercasing the G in God, referring to the Supreme Being. I object on two grounds, theological and pedantic, which I shall touch on below.

The first one is theological, and that is because I believe in God. There, I said it. Thus, I believe in an intelligent -- in fact, all-intelligent -- being, in whose image we are created. You may believe that or not, but when I find Someone that requires worship, I find the need to break out the Initial Caps.

The pedantic reason, though, is the one that's being run over by the Ford Pinto of aggressive atheism, and that's just this: In English, proper nouns are capitalized. Period.

So when you talk about Thor, the god of thunder, "god" is a job description and should be lowercased, but the proper noun "Thor" is uppercased. When you talk about God, the Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth, of all that is seen and unseen, you are using a proper noun that should be capped.

I grant plenty of leeway in this regard. If an author doesn't believe in God, that's up to the author. Some of these authors, or book editors, really hate the whole idea of God and want to lowercase god all the time to show contempt for it. But there are expressions in which the name God is used as a proper noun, and others in which it is not, and that brings us to the pedantic problem. And believe me, copyediting is nothing but a series of pedantic problems.

Here are some examples of what I mean:

"Thank God!" Makes no sense lowercased -- only works as a proper noun. Try it with other ordinary nouns ("Thank tree!" "Thank rock!").

"For the love of god." Could be lowercased; would still seem to need a possessive pronoun or article though ("our god" "the god" etc.).

"The god's honest truth." Works all right lowercased.

"As God is my witness..." A witness must be a person, and a person has a name. If "god" is supposed to be a job description instead or a name, then you're a pagan and you need an article ("As the god is my witness...").

Let's appeal to a higher authority to sort this out. No, not the Lord, not here; I mean the Chicago Manual of Style 17th edition, the lowercase-B bible for copy cats:

I also have the 14th, 15th, and 16th editions
on my desk. I am not fooling around.
Like the Bible, CMoS is arranged by chapter and verse -- really.

Thou shalt not suffer a participle to dangle.

Here are some quotes on this topic from the 17th edition:

8.91: "Names of deities, whether in monotheistic or polytheistic religions, are capitalized."

8.92: "Alternative or descriptive names for God as supreme being are capitalized."

The nomenclature is settled. Even if God does not smite you himself, the copy editor's guide is ready to smite away on its own. This has nothing to do with faith but everything to do with proper English.

And if that doesn't get the message across, I'll drop a copy of the 17th edition on you. That sucker weighs six or seven pounds easy. Smite!

Sunday, September 16, 2018

Alternate names.

We love our dogs Tralfaz and Nipper. As I've explained before, Tralfaz's name came from The Jetsons, from the episode where J.P. Gottrockets, the original owner of family's dog Astro, comes to reclaim him -- we discover that Astro's original name was Tralfaz, which he hated. (The name has deeper roots than that episode, as explained by Yowp here.) We mostly call him Fazzy. And Nipper, of course, got his name from the RCA Victor dog Nipper, the one who could recognize "his master's voice" on the ol' Victrola because it was so lifelike. Plus, as a puppy, Nipper nipped. 

But we have thought of other names through the years that might have suited them as well or better. You want to name a puppy early, so he gets used to the sound of it being associated with him, but you don't get a sense of his eventual personality that young. Same with kids. Thumper Lunks could become a famous brain surgeon; Hortense Gertrude Splenndorfus could turn into a rap artist. Although she'd probably call herself Furiouz H.

Naming after a short time would have been a problem too, or Nipper would have gone through life as Hungry Hungry Zippo. He was so very hungry as a puppy, and no surprise, as he was almost fully grown at seven months. Now he's the dog that is more likely to give me a hassle at mealtimes. That's when I want to call him Randy, after the kid brother in A Christmas Story: "Every family has a kid who won't eat. My kid brother had not eaten voluntarily in over three years." That would make Tralfaz Ralphie, and he's not much of a Ralphie. He probably would think a football was a good Christmas present. 

Hoover would have been a good name for Tralfaz, but we only knew that after we got Nipper. Nipper loves treats, but doesn't always police up the crumbs. Tralfaz will go around and get everything. Hoover would be a good name for a dog that does that, or Dyson if you're being more modern. Although hoover is still a verb in England. 

For a while, Crash seemed to be an excellent name for Nipper. The puppy energy was way bigger than his puppy muscular control. If he chased a ball downhill he'd go butt over ears; if he charged down the hall he could stop on a dime about as well as an F-15 Super Eagle. 


This looked like it would be his autobiography.
But he calmed down over time, learned to adjust his speed to conditions, and he slams into stuff and people a lot less than he used to. He still pulls like an ox, so Ox could have been his name (not Bull, because he had his little surgery).

Bear would have been a good name for both these dogs, but it would have to have been Tralfaz. When you have two dogs and one is bigger than the other, that one has to be Bear. If the little one is Bear, the big one has to be Elephant, and that's silly. Collectively, considering all their shedding, they could be the Hair Bear Bunch.

Galoot might have been a good name for Tralfaz. He is a big goof, as a galoot might be. But he's also much more sensitive than one would expect a large dog to be, which is not that galoot-like.

It's a tough thing, names. I think we did a good enough job with them. We used the recommended two syllables. At the very least we didn't give them Irish surnames, like Bailey or Riley. There's a lot of that kind of thing about.

Sunday, May 6, 2018

The unknown doggies.

It's a truism that I've found to be utterly true, that when you get a dog you get to meet a lot more people, and while you learn the names of their dogs, you often have no idea who these people are.

"Hi! What kind of dog is that?"
"Oh, he's a long-haired Shepherd. This is Nixon."
"...Interesting name!"
"My wife's a big fan of the late Marni Nixon. Who's your fella?"
"This is Tralfaz, named for the Jetsons' dog."
"Astro?"
"Remember the episode where Astro's original owner sues the Jetsons to get him back?"

And so on. Meanwhile Nixon and Tralfaz are inhaling each other's nethers and having a wonderful time. Soon we part, and while I will remember all those details about Nixon, it doesn't dawn on me for a bit that I never found out the name of the man walking her. He will become Nixon's Daddy, and remain so until one of us dies or moves. (For the record, this is a hypothetical example; I don't know any dogs named Nixon.)

Our neighborhood has a number of fine dog people -- Mulligan's Mommy, Finnegan's Daddy, Teddy's Mommy, Sophie's Kid, and so on. No earthly clue what the names of the humans are.

In other cases we have the unknown dogs, the dogs who we see or hear a lot but have never met, or when the above scenario played out, the owner didn't happen to mention the dog's name. In such cases, my wife and I will often supply our own names, so we know who we're talking about. It's shorthand. So rather than:

"Did you see that guy with the huge black dog today?"
"Which huge black dog?"
"The one with the white chest and the short tail."
"No."
"Pooped on the lawn, but promptly cleaned it up, like a good American."
"I hope you mean the dog pooped and the man cleaned it up."

Instead, I just say, "Did you see the guy walking Bruiser today?" and she knows which dog I mean.



Here are some of the other unknown dogs around town:

Guard Dog --  An All-American, as they say, with a ferocious bark, whose owner used to keep him tied to a tree when he was outside. Named for the similarly fated dog from the Mutts comic strip, but didn't look like him. Since moved away with his owner.

Boofie Newfie -- Aggressive Newfoundland who is very serious about defending his property and seems to be constrained by an Invisible Fence or something like that. That doesn't stop our dogs from wanting to go up and befriend Boofie Newfie, but I do. Newfie seems serious, and the breed is usually considered protective.

Craven -- On the other hand, Craven is a white dog who likes to sit on his porch and wait for a chance to act threatening. My wife walked Tralfaz up that way when Fazzy was an oversized puppy, no more than five months, and the white dog charged up sounding mean. My wife was going to walk away, but decided she didn't want Fazzy to learn to be afraid of other dogs, so she had our dog sit on the sidewalk and they waited for Craven to give up. He did.

Invisible Mongrels -- Two houses nearby have large backyards that border each other, and both yards have solid wooden fences. I've never seen any of the four or so dogs in these yards, but they go berserk when I walk one of our guys along the street. Alternate name: Internet Commenters.

The Twins -- Two active medium-size dogs that Tralfaz and I met just once, but who both took a huge liking to my guy and wanted to play. No idea what kind of dogs they are, but they have to be litter mates as they are identical.

Blind Dog -- Also called Foggy Doggy. Literally a dog with no eyesight, small and gray, belonging to an elderly woman who picked her from a shelter because she saw fight in that little runt. And Blind Dog, who was herself elderly when we met her, certainly seemed full of personality, able to navigate life perfectly well with nose and ears. Friendly but businesslike, sniffing one visitor briskly and then turning to the next, assessing the situation. Have not seen Blind Dog in over a year, leading us to think she has crossed that rainbow bridge, as they say. Which must be a rainbow of smells, too.

Meatbawl -- Name spoken with a New Jersey accent. This dog was said by its owner to be a Shih Tzu when it was a puppy. Well, he was half right. Looks like a dog crossed with a weasel. Does not seem to be bright, and is ignored for long stretches of time. We feel sorry for Meatbawl.

Killer & Diller -- We do not feel sorry for these two aggressive dogs, pitch-black and vicious, who busted out of their chain-linked yard one day when I was walking Tralfaz across the street and came after my peace-loving pooch. Their owner got them off with some kind of treat before Tralfaz got hurt, and before they got hurt by me. I've gone by with Nipper too, and they bark like they want to tear him to shreds. If they get out again, I'm not going to hesitate to kick their faces to defend my dog. I am not kidding.

Macho Camacho -- A little Havanese (if that's not redundant) who likes to trot out to the street to give my dogs a piece of his mind. Not mean, but he has an attitude of "All right, move along, nothing to see here" that commands the respect of my much larger dogs. Owned by a very friendly family, whoever they are. (BTW, I know Hector "Macho" Camacho was Puerto Rican, not Cuban, but Cuban boxers have lousy or inadequate nicknames.)

Magic Dog -- The frequent escapee I've written about before, whom all the domestic dogs envy. He's so wild and freeeee! And possibly has been run over by a car, since I have not seen him for a while. He's a nice dog, so I hope his owner just got him secured better.

Shetlie -- We've covered Shetlie on these pages before too, a very cute Shetland Sheepdog who, like their kind, barks at everything all the time or nothing at all. I named him Shetlie because the nickname for the breed, Sheltie, is wrong. There's no such place as "Sheltand."

Statler & Waldorf -- Two big dogs most often seen on the owners' fenced-in porch on a hill; given to barking snidely at all passing traffic, especially other dogs. Named, of course, for the Muppets' famous old hecklers, themselves named after famous hotels.

Fifi -- Possibly my favorite, Fifi is a Samoyed with the breed's enormous cloud of white hair. She looks like a large dog but I believe she may weigh ten pounds under all that fluff. Both my guys act like lovesick kids around her, despite having been neutered. She's friendly, and so is the man that owns her. He's a garrulous sort, quick to engage in all sorts of topics, from work to sports to weather to dogs, but has not once offered his name or hers, nor asked ours (or let in room for introductions). I am pretty certain his dog's name is not Fifi, but she looks as much like a Fifi as you can without being a Toy Poodle.

Speck -- A tiny black dog owned by a large and unfriendly woman. Perhaps she is protective of her dog when someone (me) with a large dog draws near, leading to her rapid disappearance, her frown floating behind her like a disgusted Cheshire Cat. Anyway, whatever her motivation, her dog is tiny and black, like a speck of ink.

Maybe some of their owners will see this blog entry, recognize their dogs, and decide we had better names for their dogs than they did. If so, they are welcome to help themselves. It would help keep things organized around here, I say.

Saturday, April 21, 2018

Acronymwits.

If there's one thing I hate -- hold on, never mind, there are many things I hate -- 

Of the many things I hate, one of them is -- 

Try again. 

One thing I hate is organizations that are stupid about their acronyms. I really hate it. When a group changes its name it often means it has lost its focus. And that's only part of it. 

Take, for example, the FFA, and this from their site:


So FFA, which used to have the purposeful and clear name of Future Farmers of America, decided that they didn't want to just focus on people who wanted to be farmers, in America, in the future. No, it was silly that people would want a thing like that! "FFA welcomes members who aspire to careers as teachers, doctors, scientists, business owners and more"...

They were focused on promoting agriculture careers. That's a clear and important mission. Now they're promoting any careers in anything. They have a little something for everyone. Which means what they do have has been devalued. No one but St. Paul can be all things to all people. In other words, the FFA has no reason to exist.

But what most irritates me is that they decided to keep the acronym FFA, even though it doesn't stand for anything. THAT IS SO STUPID. What, you were too cheap to buy new stationery?

You want to change your mission? THEN CHANGE THE NAME. Don't just have letters that are meaningless. It reveals the hollowness of your thinking.

"Hey. Psst. Kid. Wanna join the FFA?"
"What's FAF?"
"FFA, kid. Get it right."
"What's FFA stand for?"
"Nothin'."

Change the stupid name.

If there was anything dumber than that, it had to be this, from AARP:




If you can't read that, it says that the American Association of Retired Persons changed its name because some of its members were still working. Because they were enraged at being represented by a bunch of retirees, I guess.

So now, AARP also doesn't stand for anything, but they call it Aarp. Ahrrp. Which sounds like the last word you say after you fall off your walker and expire waiting for help to arrive. "Aaaarrrrp."

(Extra points if you thought of Eric Idle.)

AARP seems to want to disguise the fact that its mission is to help old people. It was organized to help those who had retired and had all the various problems that come with old age and loss of income and even purpose. Now they want to help people who aren't old -- not really -- and aren't even retired. So they too have lost all meaning.

At least you could CHANGE THE STUPID NAME.

I fully expect that the Boy Scouts of America, who have stomped on the key word in that name -- Boy -- by allowing people other than boys to join, will become just "BSA" in the next decade or so.

"What does BSA stand for?"
"Nothin'."

When the American Academy of Dietitians wanted to expand beyond mere national borders (something I suspect they would not have done except that George W. Bush was in the White House, but I'm just guessing), they didn't just call themselves AAD and say it stood for nothing. They became the Academy of Nutrition and Dietetics, and to hell with the stationery. Why can't these other twit organizations do this? I mean, yeah, as AAD they might have gotten confused with the American Academy of Dermatology, but it was still a good idea to change the name entirely.

These dumbasses basically want to eat their cake and at the same time have their cake. They want to change the name for whatever dopey reason, like mission creep or greed for new recruits, while not losing name recognition. They are looking to split the difference. You cannot split that difference. You can only stick to thy last or CHANGE THE STUPID NAME.

It all makes me want to use language that is not worthy of a PG-rated blog. Besides, I have already used the ugliest word I know: Aarp. Which means, "I've fallen and I can't get up."