Posts
Resolution Number 2: I'm never going to not acquire Microsoft again!
This brings to mind onomatopoeia, a convenient vehicle when mere words do not suffice. Let us take, oh, I don't know, say, BANKERS, for example. Not, of course, the Jimmy Stewart-types who, discovering a run at the ol' neighborhood savings 'n loan, leap out of a cab into the pouring rain just for the chance to dole out their hard-earned honeymoon cash to the panicked account-holders while Donna Reed-types cheerfully assist their newlywed husbands by charming the unruly mob into fawning submission, rather than rummage through their purse to find the phone number of the divorce attorney that their cynical cousin, Sal, gave them as a gag wedding gift "just in case" -- no not those types. They are a dying breed. More to the point, they are extinct. Bringing us back to onomatopoeia, a word on permanent loan from the Greek Language, which, while far from extinct (like bankers whose veins course happily with actual blood), is mighty old -- so old, in fact, that it is widely believed to have been the lingua Greca of ancient Greece well over two thousand years ago.
What does this have to do with onomatopoeia? Only this. We need a new nomenclature, one capable of teasing out the peculiar qualities of those six figure year-end bonused feinschmeckers of finance handsomely rewarded for giving birth to a global economic recession with the survival instincts of a Hydra. And not only that, there has to be a name for people who grow filthy rich from overdrafts while the rest of us are cutting way down on lattes. The name is right there in front of us, limping along through the zeitgeist.
Forget the zeitgeist. Go back to onomatopoeia. Perhaps a compound mot would fit the bill, the first part being a synonym for donkey and the second part being the place where you got to stick the devil down in. (We're talking synonyms for credit default swappers).
Resolution Number 3: Defrag the zeitgeist on a more regular basis.
Resolution Number 4: Remember that profiteroles are always better in theory. Print out this maxim. Laminate it. Put it in your wallet where once there was money until the [synonym for donkey + the place where you got to stick the devil down in] stole it all. When it comes time to order dessert, read the card aloud to the waiter and wait for him to reply: "profiteroles are not on the menu."
Resolution Number 6: Learn how to count.
Resolution Number 6.5: Realize that every day is precious. Probably would command a pretty penny at auction. Goodness. Think how much you could get for a whole week, if only Wednesday didn't have a huge crack in it.
Resolution Number 7: Look up the definition of "profligate." Everybody keeps using it in a sentence on the news, and even though you thought it has something to do with Watergate, you, apparently were incorrect, as the garçon sans profiteroles at the local brasserie so haughtilie advised you while rubbing it in that there never were, and never will be, profiteroles on the menu. BFD. They're way overrated, anyway.
Resolution Number 8: Try to convince everybody that halvah is back in.
Resolution Number 9: Stop pretending to be understanding of other cultures and vice versa. They hate you. You hate them. Isn't that enough?
Resolution Number 10: Live long and profligate.
