(Noun) A social media platform that's turned into a breeding ground for narcissism and superficiality. It's a place where people go to brag about their achievements and make their lives look more glamorous than they actually are. From staged photoshoots to over-edited selfies, it's all about presenting a perfect image to the world. While it may seem harmless, Instagram is also notorious for promoting unrealistic beauty standards and perpetuating body image issues. It's also a hotbed for misinformation and fake news, as people share conspiracy theories and spread propaganda without any fact-checking. In short, Instagram is the perfect platform for those who want to live in a self-obsessed bubble and ignore the real issues of the world.

(also: instagram model)

(noun) A colossal economic tumbleweed that rolled through the 1930s, leaving barren wallets and shattered dreams in its wake. A time when Wall Street took a nosedive, fortunes evaporated, and the job market turned into a cruel game of musical chairs. Soup lines became the catwalks of survival fashion, and "brother, can you spare a dime?" was the national anthem. A period when laughter was in short supply, but resilience and resourcefulness prevailed, reminding us that even in the darkest times, human spirit can find a flicker of hope.

Teaching Tip: Make the Great Depression relatable to students by connecting it to their own lives. Help them understand the impact of economic hardships by engaging in activities that simulate budgeting, rationing, and the experience of poverty. This hands-on approach fosters empathy and deepens their understanding of the era's challenges and resilience.

a form of music once popular in cuba, generally characterized by quick pace, jaunty drums, bells, flute and violin sounds. usually meant to be accompanied by salsa dancing. goes down great with cocaine, one assumes

sort of the spanish tarantella

(n.) a merry-go-round; a carnival attraction consisting of a large round gazebo, rotating slowly as it emits menacing calliope music, and filled with petrified and impaled animals on which merrymakers are invited to ride.

(n.) when the flesh is (sometimes inconveniently) willing, though the spirit may or may not be

An abstract word with a negative connotation, long on power, short on truth. An obscene mask painted on the mean face of a shrewd vulgarian for the purpose of dominating the multitude of sentimentalist idiots and imbeciles.

(n.) wanna-be lawmaker and trump-acolyte, see also misogynist "bootlicker".

adj. Destitute of hair from hereditary or accidental causes—never from.

(also: The Devil's Dictionary)

(n.) a boss-man or pooh-bah, usually in sinister secret societies or chess clubs

in ancient egypt: a poo-bah, a big shot. the king (not elvis... except in semipopular musical stageplay "joseph and the amazing technicolor dreamcoat")

a direct translation to english apparently would be "great house"

(v.) a concept used by those who feel imposter syndrome at growing up & taking charge of their own lives.
a consequence of the lack of spirited maturity traditions in a particular culture & context.

(also: maturity tradition)
(also: coming of age ritual)

(also: imposter syndrome)
(also: discomfort)
(also: doubt)

(n.) a nauseating, slimy, greasy substance with a haunting fecal odor, processed from gunk extracted from the guts of whales. Naturally used to manufacture expensive perfumes.

(n.) a quality historically defining the upper class (noblemen); considered to be roughly synonymous with grace, dignity, erudition and composure, in practice it's more shorthand for "friends in high places and doesn't have to work for a living"

A modest gentleman shrinking from the distinction of private life and diligently seeking the honorable obscurity of public office.

(n.) a drink (often alcoholic) poured out as an offering -- ideally, onto the soil but a vessel works for the act, too. it can be offered to a god, an ancestor, or simply a deceased loved one. it can be offered in special ceremony or in daily life.
the Japanese will often have a small household table/ shrine with a photo of their passed one(s) and put out a meal and drink for them.

(also: offering)

(also: brimming)

(n.) East Asian culture fetish; when weeabooism goes too far

n. The laurus, a vegetable dedicated to Apollo, and formerly defoliated to wreathe the brows of victors and such poets as had influence at court. (Vide supra.)


(also: The Devil's Dictionary)

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)

(n.) something untrue that people will nonetheless believe in, and thus the exact reverse of scientific research

if you are given the option between fungible goods of various prices, buy the most expensive one