the period of time between your birth and your death.
(n.) stating that people in a hierarchy tend to rise to their "level of incompetence".
employees are promoted based on their success in previous jobs until they reach a position where they are no longer competent.
(also: incompetence)
employees are promoted based on their success in previous jobs until they reach a position where they are no longer competent.
(also: incompetence)
A narrative, commonly untrue. The truth of the stories here following has, however, not been successfully impeached.
One evening Mr. Rudolph Block, of New York, found himself seated at dinner alongside Mr. Percival Pollard, the distinguished critic.
"Mr. Pollard," said he, "my book, The Biography of a Dead Cow, is published anonymously, but you can hardly be ignorant of its authorship. Yet in reviewing it you speak of it as the work of the Idiot of the Century. Do you think that fair criticism?"
"I am very sorry, sir," replied the critic, amiably, "but it did not occur to me that you really might not wish the public to know who wrote it."
Mr. W. C. Morrow, who used to live in San Jose, California, was addicted to writing ghost stories which made the reader feel as if a stream of lizards, fresh from the ice, were streaking it up his back and hiding in his hair. San Jose was at that time believed to be haunted by the visible spirit of a noted bandit named Vasquez, who had been hanged there. The town was not very well lighted, and it is putting it mildly to say that San Jose was reluctant to be out o' nights. One particularly dark night two gentlemen were abroad in the loneliest spot within the city limits, talking loudly to keep up their courage, when they came upon Mr. J. J. Owen, a well-known journalist.
"Why, Owen," said one, "what brings you here on such a night as this? You told me that this is one of Vasquez' favorite haunts! And you are a believer. Aren't you afraid to be out?"
"My dear fellow," the journalist replied with a drear autumnal cadence in his speech, like the moan of a leaf-laden wind, "I am afraid to be in. I have one of Will Morrow's stories in my pocket and I don't dare to go where there is light enough to read it."
Rear-Admiral Schley and Representative Charles F. Joy were standing near the Peace Monument, in Washington, discussing the question, Is success a failure? Mr. Joy suddenly broke off in the middle of an eloquent sentence, exclaiming: "Hello! I've heard that band before. Santlemann's, I think."
"I don't hear any band," said Schley.
"Come to think, I don't either," said Joy; "but I see General Miles coming down the avenue, and that pageant always affects me in the same way as a brass band. One has to scrutinize one's impressions pretty closely, or one will mistake their origin."
While the Admiral was digesting this hasty meal of philosophy General Miles passed in review, a spectacle of impressive dignity. When the tail of the seeming procession had passed and the two observers had recovered from the transient blindness caused by its effulgence —
"He seems to be enjoying himself," said the Admiral.
"There is nothing," assented Joy, thoughtfully, "that he enjoys one-half so well."
The illustrious statesman, Champ Clark, once lived about a mile from the village of Jebigue, in Missouri. One day he rode into town on a favorite mule, and, hitching the beast on the sunny side of a street, in front of a saloon, he went inside in his character of teetotaler, to apprise the barkeeper that wine is a mocker. It was a dreadfully hot day. Pretty soon a neighbor came in and seeing Clark, said:
"Champ, it is not right to leave that mule out there in the sun. He'll roast, sure! — he was smoking as I passed him."
"O, he's all right," said Clark, lightly; "he's an inveterate smoker."
The neighbor took a lemonade, but shook his head and repeated that it was not right.
He was a conspirator. There had been a fire the night before: a stable just around the corner had burned and a number of horses had put on their immortality, among them a young colt, which was roasted to a rich nut-brown. Some of the boys had turned Mr. Clark's mule loose and substituted the mortal part of the colt. Presently another man entered the saloon.
"For mercy's sake!" he said, taking it with sugar, "do remove that mule, barkeeper: it smells."
"Yes," interposed Clark, "that animal has the best nose in Missouri. But if he doesn't mind, you shouldn't."
In the course of human events Mr. Clark went out, and there, apparently, lay the incinerated and shrunken remains of his charger. The boys did not have any fun out of Mr. Clark, who looked at the body and, with the non-committal expression to which he owes so much of his political preferment, went away. But walking home late that night he saw his mule standing silent and solemn by the wayside in the misty moonlight. Mentioning the name of Helen Blazes with uncommon emphasis, Mr. Clark took the back track as hard as ever he could hook it, and passed the night in town.
General H. H. Wotherspoon, president of the Army War College, has a pet rib-nosed baboon, an animal of uncommon intelligence but imperfectly beautiful. Returning to his apartment one evening, the General was surprised and pained to find Adam (for so the creature is named, the general being a Darwinian) sitting up for him and wearing his master's best uniform coat, epaulettes and all.
"You confounded remote ancestor!" thundered the great strategist, "what do you mean by being out of bed after taps? — and with my coat on!"
Adam rose and with a reproachful look got down on all fours in the manner of his kind and, scuffling across the room to a table, returned with a visiting-card: General Barry had called and, judging by an empty champagne bottle and several cigar-stumps, had been hospitably entertained while waiting. The general apologized to his faithful progenitor and retired. The next day he met General Barry, who said:
"Spoon, old man, when leaving you last evening I forgot to ask you about those excellent cigars. Where did you get them?"
General Wotherspoon did not deign to reply, but walked away.
"Pardon me, please," said Barry, moving after him; "I was joking of course. Why, I knew it was not you before I had been in the room fifteen minutes."
(also: The Devil's Dictionary)
One evening Mr. Rudolph Block, of New York, found himself seated at dinner alongside Mr. Percival Pollard, the distinguished critic.
"Mr. Pollard," said he, "my book, The Biography of a Dead Cow, is published anonymously, but you can hardly be ignorant of its authorship. Yet in reviewing it you speak of it as the work of the Idiot of the Century. Do you think that fair criticism?"
"I am very sorry, sir," replied the critic, amiably, "but it did not occur to me that you really might not wish the public to know who wrote it."
Mr. W. C. Morrow, who used to live in San Jose, California, was addicted to writing ghost stories which made the reader feel as if a stream of lizards, fresh from the ice, were streaking it up his back and hiding in his hair. San Jose was at that time believed to be haunted by the visible spirit of a noted bandit named Vasquez, who had been hanged there. The town was not very well lighted, and it is putting it mildly to say that San Jose was reluctant to be out o' nights. One particularly dark night two gentlemen were abroad in the loneliest spot within the city limits, talking loudly to keep up their courage, when they came upon Mr. J. J. Owen, a well-known journalist.
"Why, Owen," said one, "what brings you here on such a night as this? You told me that this is one of Vasquez' favorite haunts! And you are a believer. Aren't you afraid to be out?"
"My dear fellow," the journalist replied with a drear autumnal cadence in his speech, like the moan of a leaf-laden wind, "I am afraid to be in. I have one of Will Morrow's stories in my pocket and I don't dare to go where there is light enough to read it."
Rear-Admiral Schley and Representative Charles F. Joy were standing near the Peace Monument, in Washington, discussing the question, Is success a failure? Mr. Joy suddenly broke off in the middle of an eloquent sentence, exclaiming: "Hello! I've heard that band before. Santlemann's, I think."
"I don't hear any band," said Schley.
"Come to think, I don't either," said Joy; "but I see General Miles coming down the avenue, and that pageant always affects me in the same way as a brass band. One has to scrutinize one's impressions pretty closely, or one will mistake their origin."
While the Admiral was digesting this hasty meal of philosophy General Miles passed in review, a spectacle of impressive dignity. When the tail of the seeming procession had passed and the two observers had recovered from the transient blindness caused by its effulgence —
"He seems to be enjoying himself," said the Admiral.
"There is nothing," assented Joy, thoughtfully, "that he enjoys one-half so well."
The illustrious statesman, Champ Clark, once lived about a mile from the village of Jebigue, in Missouri. One day he rode into town on a favorite mule, and, hitching the beast on the sunny side of a street, in front of a saloon, he went inside in his character of teetotaler, to apprise the barkeeper that wine is a mocker. It was a dreadfully hot day. Pretty soon a neighbor came in and seeing Clark, said:
"Champ, it is not right to leave that mule out there in the sun. He'll roast, sure! — he was smoking as I passed him."
"O, he's all right," said Clark, lightly; "he's an inveterate smoker."
The neighbor took a lemonade, but shook his head and repeated that it was not right.
He was a conspirator. There had been a fire the night before: a stable just around the corner had burned and a number of horses had put on their immortality, among them a young colt, which was roasted to a rich nut-brown. Some of the boys had turned Mr. Clark's mule loose and substituted the mortal part of the colt. Presently another man entered the saloon.
"For mercy's sake!" he said, taking it with sugar, "do remove that mule, barkeeper: it smells."
"Yes," interposed Clark, "that animal has the best nose in Missouri. But if he doesn't mind, you shouldn't."
In the course of human events Mr. Clark went out, and there, apparently, lay the incinerated and shrunken remains of his charger. The boys did not have any fun out of Mr. Clark, who looked at the body and, with the non-committal expression to which he owes so much of his political preferment, went away. But walking home late that night he saw his mule standing silent and solemn by the wayside in the misty moonlight. Mentioning the name of Helen Blazes with uncommon emphasis, Mr. Clark took the back track as hard as ever he could hook it, and passed the night in town.
General H. H. Wotherspoon, president of the Army War College, has a pet rib-nosed baboon, an animal of uncommon intelligence but imperfectly beautiful. Returning to his apartment one evening, the General was surprised and pained to find Adam (for so the creature is named, the general being a Darwinian) sitting up for him and wearing his master's best uniform coat, epaulettes and all.
"You confounded remote ancestor!" thundered the great strategist, "what do you mean by being out of bed after taps? — and with my coat on!"
Adam rose and with a reproachful look got down on all fours in the manner of his kind and, scuffling across the room to a table, returned with a visiting-card: General Barry had called and, judging by an empty champagne bottle and several cigar-stumps, had been hospitably entertained while waiting. The general apologized to his faithful progenitor and retired. The next day he met General Barry, who said:
"Spoon, old man, when leaving you last evening I forgot to ask you about those excellent cigars. Where did you get them?"
General Wotherspoon did not deign to reply, but walked away.
"Pardon me, please," said Barry, moving after him; "I was joking of course. Why, I knew it was not you before I had been in the room fifteen minutes."
(also: The Devil's Dictionary)
Legitimate authority to be, to do or to have; as the right to be a king, the right to do one's neighbor, the right to have measles and the like. The first of these rights was once universally believed to be derived directly from the will of God; and this is still sometimes affirmed in partibus infidelium outside the enlightened realms of Democracy; as in the well-known lines of Sir Abednego Bink, following:
By what right, then, do royal rulers rule?
Whose is the sanction of their state and pow'r?
He surely were as stubborn as a mule
Who, God unwilling, could maintain an hour
His uninvited session on the throne, or air
His pride securely in the Presidential chair.
Whatever is is so by Right Divine;
Whate'er occurs, God wills it so. Good land!
It were a wondrous thing if His design
A fool could baffle or a rogue withstand!
If so, then God, I say (intending no offence)
Is guilty of contributory negligence.
(also: The Devil's Dictionary)
By what right, then, do royal rulers rule?
Whose is the sanction of their state and pow'r?
He surely were as stubborn as a mule
Who, God unwilling, could maintain an hour
His uninvited session on the throne, or air
His pride securely in the Presidential chair.
Whatever is is so by Right Divine;
Whate'er occurs, God wills it so. Good land!
It were a wondrous thing if His design
A fool could baffle or a rogue withstand!
If so, then God, I say (intending no offence)
Is guilty of contributory negligence.
(also: The Devil's Dictionary)
a vague hinting at some sort of unspecified imminent and preventable danger
From Ezra Pound's 'the ABC's of Reading':
"LOGOPOEIA, 'the dance of the intellect among words', that is to say, it employs words not only for their direct meaning, but it takes count in a special way of habits of usage, of the context we expect to find with the word, its usual concomitants, of its known acceptances, and of ironical play. It holds the aesthetic content which is peculiarly the domain of verbal manifestation, and cannot possibly be contained in plastic or in music. It is the latest come, and perhaps the most tricky and undependable mode."
In the lower linked lecture, Ginsberg discusses the word, defining it primarily as the presence of wit whether present by puns, words with multiple definitions being purposefully utilized to some end, general witty arrangement, etc.
From wikipedia:
"Logopoeia or logopeia is defined by Pound as poetry that uses words for more than just their direct meaning,[1] stimulating the visual imagination with phanopoeia and inducing emotional correlations with melopoeia."
An easy example: "To live outside the law, you must be honest."
https://allenginsberg.org/2015/04/meditation-and-poetics-78-phanopoeia-logopoeia-and-melopoeia/
"LOGOPOEIA, 'the dance of the intellect among words', that is to say, it employs words not only for their direct meaning, but it takes count in a special way of habits of usage, of the context we expect to find with the word, its usual concomitants, of its known acceptances, and of ironical play. It holds the aesthetic content which is peculiarly the domain of verbal manifestation, and cannot possibly be contained in plastic or in music. It is the latest come, and perhaps the most tricky and undependable mode."
In the lower linked lecture, Ginsberg discusses the word, defining it primarily as the presence of wit whether present by puns, words with multiple definitions being purposefully utilized to some end, general witty arrangement, etc.
From wikipedia:
"Logopoeia or logopeia is defined by Pound as poetry that uses words for more than just their direct meaning,[1] stimulating the visual imagination with phanopoeia and inducing emotional correlations with melopoeia."
An easy example: "To live outside the law, you must be honest."
https://allenginsberg.org/2015/04/meditation-and-poetics-78-phanopoeia-logopoeia-and-melopoeia/
A computer built by a race of hyperintelligent pan-dimensional beings to calculate once and for all the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything, to which the answer is 42.
This computer was so large that it was frequently mistaken for a planet - especially by the strange ape-like beings who roamed its surface, totally unaware that they were simply part of a gigantic computer program. And this is very odd, because without that fairly simple and obvious piece of knowledge, nothing that ever happened on the Earth could possibly make the slightest bit of sense.
Sadly however, just before the critical moment of readout, the Earth was unexpectedly demolished by the Vogons to make way - so they claimed - for a new hyperspace bypass, and so all hope of discovering a meaning for life was lost for ever.
This computer was so large that it was frequently mistaken for a planet - especially by the strange ape-like beings who roamed its surface, totally unaware that they were simply part of a gigantic computer program. And this is very odd, because without that fairly simple and obvious piece of knowledge, nothing that ever happened on the Earth could possibly make the slightest bit of sense.
Sadly however, just before the critical moment of readout, the Earth was unexpectedly demolished by the Vogons to make way - so they claimed - for a new hyperspace bypass, and so all hope of discovering a meaning for life was lost for ever.
Absurdly chivalric, like Don Quixote. An insight into the beauty and excellence of this incomparable adjective is unhappily denied to him who has the misfortune to know that the gentleman's name is pronounced Ke-ho-tay.
When ignorance from out our lives can banish
Philology, 'tis folly to know Spanish.
—Juan Smith
(also: The Devil's Dictionary)
When ignorance from out our lives can banish
Philology, 'tis folly to know Spanish.
—Juan Smith
(also: The Devil's Dictionary)
italian interjection, conveying surprise. similar to "my goodness!"
ex:
"we ran out of pizza rolls!"
"mamma mia!"
ex:
"we ran out of pizza rolls!"
"mamma mia!"
(n.) the one who transforms the leader and first follower from weirdos, to the beginnings of a crowd
K is a consonant that we get from the Greeks, but it can be traced away back beyond them to the Cerathians, a small commercial nation inhabiting the peninsula of Smero. In their tongue it was called Klatch, which means "destroyed." The form of the letter was originally precisely that of our H, but the erudite Dr. Snedeker explains that it was altered to its present shape to commemorate the destruction of the great temple of Jarute by an earthquake, circa 730 B.C. This building was famous for the two lofty columns of its portico, one of which was broken in half by the catastrophe, the other remaining intact. As the earlier form of the letter is supposed to have been suggested by these pillars, so, it is thought by the great antiquary, its later was adopted as a simple and natural—not to say touching—means of keeping the calamity ever in the national memory. It is not known if the name of the letter was altered as an additional mnemonic, or if the name was always Klatch and the destruction one of nature's puns. As each theory seems probable enough, I see no objection to believing both—and Dr. Snedeker arrayed himself on that side of the question.
(also: The Devil's Dictionary)
(also: The Devil's Dictionary)
Discord, Disagreement or two conflicting opinions. Also a place to ruin friendships.
n. A heavy blue-gray metal much used in giving stability to light lovers — particularly to those who love not wisely but other men's wives. Lead is also of great service as a counterpoise to an argument of such weight that it turns the scale of debate the wrong way. An interesting fact in the chemistry of international controversy is that at the point of contact of two patriotisms lead is precipitated in great quantities.
Hail, holy Lead! — of human feuds the great
And universal arbiter; endowed
With penetration to pierce any cloud
Fogging the field of controversial hate,
And with a swift, inevitable, straight,
Searching precision find the unavowed
But vital point. Thy judgment, when allowed
By the chirurgeon, settles the debate.
O useful metal! — were it not for thee
We'd grapple one another's ears alway:
But when we hear thee buzzing like a bee
We, like old Muhlenberg, "care not to stay."
And when the quick have run away like pullets
Jack Satan smelts the dead to make new bullets.
(also: The Devil's Dictionary)
Hail, holy Lead! — of human feuds the great
And universal arbiter; endowed
With penetration to pierce any cloud
Fogging the field of controversial hate,
And with a swift, inevitable, straight,
Searching precision find the unavowed
But vital point. Thy judgment, when allowed
By the chirurgeon, settles the debate.
O useful metal! — were it not for thee
We'd grapple one another's ears alway:
But when we hear thee buzzing like a bee
We, like old Muhlenberg, "care not to stay."
And when the quick have run away like pullets
Jack Satan smelts the dead to make new bullets.
(also: The Devil's Dictionary)
(n.) the study of ailments which exist only in the mind, though the bill, unfortunately, does not
Once upon a time, in the vast and interconnected world of Discord, there lived a deranged user named Coofl. Coofl was known to possess an erratic and troublesome nature, causing chaos and confusion wherever they went.
Coofl's presence in various Discord servers would often ignite heated debates and stir up controversy. They seemed to derive pleasure from provoking others and exploiting vulnerabilities within online communities. The username "Coofl" became synonymous with trouble and unpredictability.
One fateful day, Coofl stumbled upon a peaceful server dedicated to gardening and tranquility. The server was a safe haven for nature enthusiasts and gardeners to share tips, beautiful pictures, and connect with like-minded individuals.
As soon as Coofl joined the server, chaos ensued. They began flooding the channels with disruptive messages, spamming memes and inappropriate content. Coofl had no regard for the peaceful atmosphere that the server cherished. The members were taken aback by the sudden disruption, their once harmonious space now tainted by Coofl's reckless behavior.
The moderators and administrators swiftly took action, attempting to contain Coofl's disruptive antics. They warned, muted, and even banned Coofl from the server. But Coofl seemed relentless, finding new ways to bypass the restrictions and continue their disruptive behavior.
The server members, frustrated and exhausted, decided to unite against Coofl. They brainstormed strategies, developed stronger moderation systems, and established stricter guidelines. Together, they created a safe and resilient community, immune to Coofl's destructive actions.
Coofl, underestimated the resilience of the server's members, was astonished by their unity and determination. In their quest for chaos, they inadvertently sparked a stronger community driven by the shared love for gardening and tranquility.
Realizing their futile attempts to disrupt the server, Coofl finally decided to change their ways. They sought guidance from the server's moderators, sincerely expressing remorse for their past actions. The community, cautious yet open-minded, decided to give Coofl a second chance.
Coofl gradually transformed from a deranged user to a valued member of the gardening community. They embraced the server's principles, actively engaging in discussions, and sharing their own gardening experiences. Coofl even took the initiative to assist others, providing helpful advice and support to fellow members.
Over time, Coofl's erratic behavior faded, replaced by a newfound sincerity and respect for others. Their journey from being a disruptor to an integral part of the community inspired others to choose empathy and understanding over condemnation.
The story of Coofl stands as a reminder of the transformative power of communities, their ability to heal, and their capacity to empower individuals to change their ways. Discord, once shaken by chaos, became a platform where people connected, learned, and grew together, with Coofl as a shining example of redemption and personal growth.
Coofl's presence in various Discord servers would often ignite heated debates and stir up controversy. They seemed to derive pleasure from provoking others and exploiting vulnerabilities within online communities. The username "Coofl" became synonymous with trouble and unpredictability.
One fateful day, Coofl stumbled upon a peaceful server dedicated to gardening and tranquility. The server was a safe haven for nature enthusiasts and gardeners to share tips, beautiful pictures, and connect with like-minded individuals.
As soon as Coofl joined the server, chaos ensued. They began flooding the channels with disruptive messages, spamming memes and inappropriate content. Coofl had no regard for the peaceful atmosphere that the server cherished. The members were taken aback by the sudden disruption, their once harmonious space now tainted by Coofl's reckless behavior.
The moderators and administrators swiftly took action, attempting to contain Coofl's disruptive antics. They warned, muted, and even banned Coofl from the server. But Coofl seemed relentless, finding new ways to bypass the restrictions and continue their disruptive behavior.
The server members, frustrated and exhausted, decided to unite against Coofl. They brainstormed strategies, developed stronger moderation systems, and established stricter guidelines. Together, they created a safe and resilient community, immune to Coofl's destructive actions.
Coofl, underestimated the resilience of the server's members, was astonished by their unity and determination. In their quest for chaos, they inadvertently sparked a stronger community driven by the shared love for gardening and tranquility.
Realizing their futile attempts to disrupt the server, Coofl finally decided to change their ways. They sought guidance from the server's moderators, sincerely expressing remorse for their past actions. The community, cautious yet open-minded, decided to give Coofl a second chance.
Coofl gradually transformed from a deranged user to a valued member of the gardening community. They embraced the server's principles, actively engaging in discussions, and sharing their own gardening experiences. Coofl even took the initiative to assist others, providing helpful advice and support to fellow members.
Over time, Coofl's erratic behavior faded, replaced by a newfound sincerity and respect for others. Their journey from being a disruptor to an integral part of the community inspired others to choose empathy and understanding over condemnation.
The story of Coofl stands as a reminder of the transformative power of communities, their ability to heal, and their capacity to empower individuals to change their ways. Discord, once shaken by chaos, became a platform where people connected, learned, and grew together, with Coofl as a shining example of redemption and personal growth.
Generating disagreeable emotions or sensations, as the advance of an army against its enemy.
"Were the enemy's tactics offensive?" the king asked. "I should say so!" replied the unsuccessful general. "The blackguard wouldn't come out of his works!"
"Were the enemy's tactics offensive?" the king asked. "I should say so!" replied the unsuccessful general. "The blackguard wouldn't come out of his works!"
Separateness, as, lands in severalty, i.e., lands held individually, not in joint ownership. Certain tribes of Indians are believed now to be sufficiently civilized to have in severalty the lands that they have hitherto held as tribal organizations, and could not sell to the Whites for waxen beads and potato whisky.
Lo! the poor Indian whose unsuited mind
Saw death before, hell and the grave behind;
Whom thrifty settlers ne'er besought to stay —
His small belongings their appointed prey;
Whom Dispossession, with alluring wile,
Persuaded elsewhere every little while!
His fire unquenched and his undying worm
By "land in severalty" (charming term!)
Are cooled and killed, respectively, at last,
And he to his new holding anchored fast!
(also: The Devil's Dictionary)
Lo! the poor Indian whose unsuited mind
Saw death before, hell and the grave behind;
Whom thrifty settlers ne'er besought to stay —
His small belongings their appointed prey;
Whom Dispossession, with alluring wile,
Persuaded elsewhere every little while!
His fire unquenched and his undying worm
By "land in severalty" (charming term!)
Are cooled and killed, respectively, at last,
And he to his new holding anchored fast!
(also: The Devil's Dictionary)
supported by both sects of the ruling class
sign-up or face the consequences!
“"observers" must obey the call.”
join