Tuesday 5 May 2015

honest abe

It’s a fact: without the senatorial votes (before the odder system of the electoral college was rigged) of the applicant organised territory of Nevada, who were Republican and staunchly Unionist, Abraham Lincoln would not have secured a second term as president of a divided nation at war.
The fledging state had satisfied all other requirements, except that in order to formalise ascension, Carson City had to send an plenipotentiary to the national capital, a journey that could not be undertaken in time to met statutory deadlines prior to the election. Thus, Orion Clemens, one and only secretary of the territory and brother of one who went by the nom de plume Mark Twain, negotiated what was taken to be an acceptable alternative at the time, though now the use of the auto-pen raises controversy, in the form of the new-fangled telegraph. At considerable effort and expense, the Nevada constitution and articles of confederation was sent painstakingly by Morse code via the wires. One can learn more about this crucial improvisation and other bits of profound and challenging curiosities on the brilliant Futility Closet, which treats all trivia with appropriate and due awe. This seems to me to be quite a story and at the very least would have deserved the treatment of a Star Trek episode or two, like when Mister Data meets Guinan (Whoopi Goldberg) and Mark Twain in old New Orleans and preserves the time-line as we know it. At minimum, it strikes me as one of those epic cross-over episodes with special guest-stars, like the Harlem Globe-Trotters on Gilligan’s Island. Learning of such an unlikely chain of events (plus thinking about how any detail might have been out of place) makes me wonder if there are not some journeymen-embellishers correcting history. Let’s do celebrate this tweaking. What event do you think is too well orchestrated to be left up to contemporary-hands?

futurama

This aesthetic and consumer culture known as populuxe, distinct from Mid-Century Modern, was an exclusively American phenomenon, typified by the look of a retrograde future which brought technology and optimism sharply in focus. To discover more examples, check out the brilliant web-presence of curator James Vaughn (X-Ray Delta One) for an endless gallery of architectural models, industrial landscapes, movie posters, glamourous advertising and other ephemera of the age.

five-by-five

vegetative states: curious and bizarre world of intelligent flora

ensemble cast: famed photographer Annie Lebovitz shoots Star Wars - Pew, pew!

paste-bin: an homage to the wastepaper basket and to the office of yesteryear

shrinks and spooks: an expose of the CIA’s white-elephant specialists

flotsam and jetsam: monumental artist Christo to bridge Lago d’Iseo

toponym or stocklinch ottersay

Thirty years ago, Hitchhikers’ Guide to the Galaxy author Douglas Adams collaborated with linguist and comedian John Lloyd to fill some glaring lexical gaps with their dictionary The Meaning of Liff (produced concurrently with Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life but more than welcomed by the troupe)—liff being defined as a common object or experience for which no word yet exists.

One of my favourite and immediately relevant examples is that of plymouthing—etymology not needed, which is the pang of realisation that one is relating an amusing anecdote back to the source one got it from originally. I think that describes pretty well much of the truck that passes on the internet. A lot of the words are derived from place-names but many are purely inspired. Pulverbatch, for instance, refers to the self-deprecating, humble-brag list of menial, mindless jobs a celebrity held before being discovered, and the stocklinch ottersay above is from the second-edition of spare liffs and refers to the amazement one experiences on encountering a completely new and unknown word twice in one day.  What words would you come up with?