Bafflegab

Had an interesting bout with payroll the other day, which leads me to toady's word. A dictionary definition of bafflegab clarifies the word as, "incomprehensible jargon" and compares it to "gobbledegook". This definition is vastly insufficient.

Let's begin our discussion with an excerpt for an actual notification from a government contractor "suggesting" its workers take annual leave during building maintenance:

[Maintenance] has announced that electrical power to [our building] will be shut down beginning Friday. We understand that routine functions will cease at that time and non-emergency personnel will not be permitted in [our building] during the power outage.

Employees who are not able to work during the power outage may, with supervisory concurrence, adjust their work schedule for the [pay period before the outage] to complete 40 work hours prior to [Friday]. Alternatively, employees may elect to take Annual Leave for the work hours missed due to the power outage.

Not one worker in my office fully understood the message. Vaguely some realized that a choice was being given, but none understood what the choices were. The notification gamely suggested it was addressed to employees not able to work during the power outage, but since all employees were not be permitted in the building, it wasn't clear that the message was addressed to EVERYONE.

That's because it was written ambiguously, using jargon and conflicting modifiers with the explicit intent to cover [management's ass] by deliberately clouding the message's real intent (we are forcing you to work overtime or take annual leave). This message was written in bafflegab.

Milton A. Smith, the assistant general counsel for the US Chamber of Commerce, coined the word in 1952 after a maddening day trying to explain a written order to a colleague. He decided a special word was needed to describe his office's special blend of “incomprehensibility, ambiguity, verbosity and complexity” in its bureaucratic language.

At the presentation of an award from the Washington Report, Milton Smith was asked to briefly define his word. He described it as:

“multiloquence characterized by consummate interfusion of circumlocution or periphrasis, inscrutability, and other familiar manifestations of abstruse expatiation commonly utilized for promulgations implementing Procrustean determinations by governmental bodies.”

Expect to see that on your next annual review.

John Derian for Target

I've fallen in love with John Derian's morbidly anatomical prints and whimsical sense of humor too many times to count. I even made a special pilgrimage to his store/studio in New York last week in the hopes of spending (no more than $50) on one of his gorgeous and subtly twisted objects of useful art. But drat the hated price tags! Sixty dollars for a paperweight the size of my thumb? In this economy? Really Mr. Derian? I was so furious, I wandered around the shop vaguely imagining running into the artist himself furiously covering hand-blown glasses with layers of antique script. (Of course he wasn't there. I'm sure he was of enjoying martinis on his yacht made of gold bricks. Or perhaps relaxing with a scotch in soda in his shadowy, well-appointed mansion sitting on top of a dark, lonely hill) May I remind you that, decoupage is a Victorian pastime disguised as pseudo art originally meant to occupy women? Curse you and your lovely antique star-maps pasted to the inside of pencil trays!!

Of course, I took it all back as soon as I opened the first page of the Domino magazine that came in my mail yesterday. I squeezed the first page with all the shock of reunited lover. John Derian's designs are to enter Target stores on September 7th with a lower priced line of stationary and home decor. Do you see these tears? They're tears of overbrimming happiness.

Conspicious Presence

The Italian issue of Vogue is reacting to the reluctance of the fashion industry to hire black models, by using only models of color in their July issue. The New York Times has applauded their slap in fashion's face by calling the industry lazy, paranoid and pedantic in their article, "Conspicious by Their Presence".

After scouring newstands and bookstores that carry foreign issues and being dissapointed (this issue sold out almost immediately and finding a copy in DC proved impossible), I turned to Jezebel.com for a reliable round up. You can catch other smoking hot photo shoots with the likes of Naomi Campbell, Sessilee Lopez, Tyra Banks, and Toccarra Jones (woo, plus size!) like the one above in their article, "Italian Vogue's "All Black Issue": A Guided Tour".

Time for Some Campaignin'

The folks that brought you, "This Land" have finally changed their tune. Check out "Time for Some Campaignin'" .

My favorite part? The Unicorn, baby.

The Sleazy, the Noir, and the Science Fiction

My current obsession with American Pin-ups has run amuck to encompass pulp fiction novel covers from the 40's through the 70's. Not surprisingly, many of these lurid and fantastically seedy covers were penned by the same great illustrators that made pin-up and glamour calendars a national religion in the 50's. Because of my natural inclination, I find my favorites are the sleazy, the noir and the science fiction (not necessarily in that order). On sharing my secret shame with my Sister, the Older, she remembered a few covers that we owned in our childhood.

"Remember, Casca the Eternal Mercenary?" she asked (a delightfully trashy set of tales of military daring-do discovered on my Brother's bedroom floor). It's true, I not only picked up these pulp-tastic tidbits but I read them from cover to cover, as if I could find something within the words that matched the rapacious illustrations on front.

"Did you ever read any Gor novels?" I screeched in approval. Under my direction, she directly read the short story, "Houseplants of Gor" which succinctly captures all three of the above qualities, ardently displayed by the stilted, laughable, and all together entertaining works of dubious literary merit scribed by John Norman.

Now, so should you.

xkcd

I must be the last person in the world to discover xkcd (the acronym doesn't mean anything, it's just hard to say). Defined as a web comic of romance, sarcasm, math and language (really what else could you want?) it produces such winners as this panel quoted from Neil Gaimon's Sandman Graphic Novels.

And this panel about Orson Scott Card's Ender's Series.

It's been awhile, but xkcd (I'm serious, it doesn't mean anything, I've done my research) has a permanent place in my Sweetshop.

Cooking for Engineers

At a young age, I read the Joy of Cooking. Back to Front. I've always had a love-love relationship with food and when I was of an age to be entranced by Mr. Rogers, it was mostly because he came on before Yan Can Cook, the Frugal Gourmet (I don't care, his recipes are awesome) and Julia Child. I read cookbook after cookbook, comparing recipes, writing my own notes and then writing my own recipes, trying to understand the science of it all. Why were my fried eggs soggy? Why didn't my pop-overs pop? I was good at math and science and cooking was like chemistry, there were things going on, food things, amalgams to compound, liquids to emulsify, energy to be released. I bought as many of the Time-Life "The Good Cook" series as I could, because they taught the basics: marinades needed an acid, an immersive, and a flavoring agent; chicken sautés must be seared then tempered with vegetables then finished in a simmer.

Modern cooking shows like Alton Brown's "Good Eats" were such a godsend, because he put the math and science right next to the cooking. Finally, someone else got that teaching one to prepare food should not be about teaching how to follow a recipe, but how to understand food and how to experiment with it.

You don't have to have cable (or a TV for that matter) to learn the same thing. Enter, "Cooking for Engineers", a site built for analytical minds that like to cook aimed at demystifying the science of food preparation. In addition to their ingredients dictionary, catalogue of cooking tests, and notes on equipment and gear, at the end of each recipe is a Nassi-Shneiderman diagram (shown above for New England Style Chowder) which is simply the recipe at one glance. Now why hasn't Alton Brown thought of that?

Embrace the Shoelace

Once upon a time, I was a middle-schooler of the eighties, fond of watching ThunderCats, buying dresses printed with faux paint splatters, and wearing my black Reebox sneakers with wild shoelaces, meticulous threaded during timeless evenings of Gimme-A-Break, Growing Pains, or Family Ties.

Now that the eighties are unofficially back, I find myself pressing my nose against the glass at Lady Footlocker, wondering if I can get away with practicing my basket-weaving skills on the tops of my shoes. You could do it too, you know. And you don't need to scour the pages of Seventeen magazine like I did back in the day. You can just take a look at Ian's Shoelace Site. Which, among other things, has colorful step-by-step instructions on not only how to tie designer laces the envy of any respectable Reebox wearer, but also carries shoelace news stories, tips for teaching children, ways to repair agelets (those shoelace ends) and methods for calculating your own appropriate shoelace length.

Stay Cool

I was supposed to see U2 3D last weekend with some friends down at the Samuel C. Johnson IMAX Theater in the National Museum of Natural History Smithsonian, but the very idea of leaving the apartment and foraging into that horrible hotness that can only be known as DC "weather" caused a swoon that could only be cured by cold beer, soccer games and Xbox.

I also spent some time surfing the web and pretending to be productive, when came upon list after list of interesting websites that I never got around to visiting. Seems like everyone has a listing of what they think are the "coolest" website on the web. But these Ploomy, what men need to know and Time Magazine actual have some street cred. Take a look at Ploomy's "10 Cool Websites" and Times' "10 Cool Websites" when you are cranking up the AC and hiding from the DC heat wave.

Hot Dog, Haute Dog

When summer approaches, hot dog consumption goes up exponentially as the temperature increases. (Not to mention, I'm heading off for my sister's wedding this weekend in Chicago). In honor of such simple pleasures, I would like to bring attention to the Chicago Tribune's article, "Hot dog, haute dog!". You don't have to go to Chicago to experience these creative twists on the old-fashioned dog. Included in the article are fabulous recipes from the Chicago Chefs for making such delicious innovations like the Asian Tuna Dog, or the Hoisin-and-Hot-Mustard-Glazed Tofu Dog in your own kitchen. And don't worry, when asking the five interviewed chefs to put their own spin on the wondrous wienie, they made sure to stipulate it had to be something the home cook could feasibly replicate.

Garfield minus Garfiled

Dan Walsh of Dublin did all Garfield critics a favor when he took the orange lay-about and all of his furry friends out of Jim Davis's cartoons. The result is a neurotic, manic-depressive and frankly hysterical offshoot called "Garfield minus Garfield" showcasing the neuroses of Jon Arbuckle (Garfield's Owner) in all their delirious glory.

Surreal and a touch dark (they way I like 'em) Jon's antics are still touchingly human and laughably ridiculous. In Amy Orndorff's article, "When the Cat's Away, Neurosis Is on Display" in the Washington Post, she noted "the futility in making everything turn out right every day". I for one, love the Walsh's refreshing pandering to the lonely, absurd and desperate conditions of office workers and stalled dreamers everywhere.

Thesaurus.com's Lexico sued by Roget's Thesaurus

If you use thesaurus.com as extensively as I do, you'll notice that on or about May 1st the website became drastically useless. Here's what happened.

Around April 8th, 2008, Jezebel.com made a snuff about synonyms for the word "weaker" at thesaurus.com, which came up as "female" and "lady". While disgusting, synonyms like these don't particularly surprise me since they are slang for the concept of female as the "weaker sex". (Yes, while males get stuck with synonyms like "soul" and "humanity", feminine synonyms run a gamut of derogatory slanders. Welcome to being a lady. But that is another post.) Many of these synonyms can be found in Roget's Thesaurus (indicated as slang, just like I said). I know because it is on the bookshelf above my writing desk (sometimes I like to drift among the words, like a thirsty man in the desert, so sue me. Oops, did I give away the post?). The people these synonyms surprised the most, were the people at Roget's Thesaurus.

The attention and outrage garnered at Jezebel.com lead to someone at Roget's realizing that Thesaurus.com was lifting their words and infringing on the copyright of their 21st Century Thesaurus. They are now suing Lexico, the owners of Thesaurus.com in "The Philip Lief Group, Inc vs. Lexico Publishing Group" dated May 7th, 2008.

Apparently in 1990 and 1998, Roget employed a Barbara Ann Kipfer, PhD to create the 21st Century Thesaurus and the Revised edition. Roget retained the copyright and its agreement with Kipfer prohibited her from participating in the preparation of another English language thesaurus without Roget's permission. In 1999, Thesaurus.com requested a license for Roget's Thesaurus for its (then) fledgling internet based reference business. Citing that the business was not profitable and would be used mainly to educate people, they offered Roget's $3,000 smackers. Roget's declined.

Meanwhile, Thesaurus.com entered into an agreement with Dr. Kipfer to buy a thesaurus for their online site called "Roget's New Millennium Thesaurus". Roget's is charging that Kipfer's "New Millennium Thesaurus" is actually their "21st Century Thesaurus" copied verbatim, complete with misspellings and nonsense words.

Oops.

From 2002 to 2008 Thesaurus.com has increased in business value by creating a significant web based advertising supported business replete with pay for use premium features. In July of 2007 Lexico (declined) an offer of 100 million dollars for its sale.

Around May 19th, Thesaurus.com apparently removed all the words from their database that could only be found in Roget's new Millennium Thesaurus. The result is fewer returns, non-existing antonyms and some that words no longer have thesaurus entries. Since each word is cross-referenced through hyperlinks, this has drastically reduced the overall effectiveness of their on-line tool. Cries across the web have ranged from complaints about the "massive reduction" of hits and the "newly degraded" format to less detailed epithets ("suddenly sucks" and "now worthless").

Other discussions on the subject have disintegrated to a lot of finger pointing. Thesaurus.com's parent company, Lexico, has remained mum on the subject (foolhardy in my humble opinion) but court records serve as the herald of the awful truth.

Commuters with Empty Pockets

Forbes Magazine has published a couple of studies, "America's Most Expensive Commutes" and "Cities With the Worse Pain at the Pump" which take a look at the rising cost of gas and the effect on the average commuter.

In "Pain at the Pump" Forbes.com took the country's 50 largest metro areas and looked at congestion, fuel costs, use of mass transit and carpools and commuting distances to determine which metropolitan areas were paying the most for gas and burning the most in their commute. My beloved Washington D.C. taps out on top with an average of $13 a day to commute into the city.

Think you can escape the rising gas prices by being a good citizen and taking the metro? Think again. "Most Expensive Commutes" illustrates the skyrocketing price of public transportation where the cost of the daily commute is proportional to the size and extent of the rail system. More extensive infrastructures means cheaper commutes. However, inexpensive commutes were inversely proportional to the cost of housing. Take New York City, it was the second cheapest commute in the country, but has some of the highest housing expenses and least affordable housing markets in the nation.

You know, I usually like to end these kinds of posts on a positive note. Ooops.

The Great Big Lie

Well my loves, vacation seems inexcusable in the land of blogs and I really did mean to keep up my love of trivia while I was away in Italy, Germany, and the Czech Republic. But I didn't, did I? I'm back now and I learned all sorts of things and saw all sorts of sights in "foreign" countries (I mean, the landscape did change quite a bit in Germany and the Czech Republic, but all the people stayed rather the same, except I couldn't understand them). Which leads me to one of my favorite sites in Prague.

It’s the Prague Astronomical Clock. This fabulous display of medieval artistry and science is still ticking away in the city's Old Town Square. While I was pointing out with appreciable geekiness to my husband and sister-in-law, the meaning of all the golden dials, whirring knobs, and mosaic illustrations of zodiac constellations, my husband noted that the sun could not possibly be in the constellation of Gemini as the clock was indicating. After all, it was only May 10th. And he should know, since he's a Gemini.

Welcome to the Great Big Lie.

I told him how on my first day of Astronomy 101, with no small amount of glee and (a certain degree of pity) my astronomy teacher told us of how the astronomical dates for sun signs were set by the classical Greeks about 2000 years ago. And due to the precession of the earth's axis (don't ask, but basically it's the same reason why Polaris wasn't a pole star for the Greeks either) over time, the positions of the constellations have actually shifted about 25 astronomical degrees. "That's right", I explained to my husband, "you're actually a Taurus."

If you too would like to find out what your "real" astrological sign is, you can visit, the Live Science Article "Your Astrological Sign may Not Be What You Think It Is".

Or like me, if your horoscope seems just a little off today, try reading the one before it.

The Birds

I sat down in Dupont Circle today with my Well-dressed Burrito in hand, all ready to catch up on some blogging while chowing down in the sun. All of DC seemed to be having the same idea. There were young female coordinators eating salads in sun-dresses and chatting over the shouts of the rowdy chess players, two homeless guys were lazily fanning themselves on a couple of benches, and quite a few young men in shirts-sleeves were gossiping good naturedly by the fountain.

A few birds landed near by me as I started my lunch and all seemed right in the world. That was until five minutes later, when I looked up and counted nineteen (wrens? wood thrushes? chicadees?) flopping down near me and pretending to burrow or look for worms in what was obviously bone-dry, over-worked dirt. After a few minutes, they gave up all attempts at pretense and blatantly glared at me for handouts while a couple of hefty pigeons waddled over like bouncers. The thrushes reacted by trying to muscle morsels out of me by buzzing my shady spot with dives and swoops. I didn’t know whether to ignore them or run for my life.

Know thine enemy I say, and since I was a 30 minute walk away from my Boy Scout manual, the “North American Bird Photo Gallery” came in pretty handy. Turns out the bullies in Dupont Circle are “Spizella arborea” or American tree sparrows. You’ve been warned.