Monday, December 18, 2017

Milkshake Duck, Anyone?


The Oxford Dictionaries, publisher of the venerable Oxford English Dictionary, has chosen youthquake as its word of the year. I suppose I might as well confess that I have never seen or heard this word before—even though it was allegedly coined in the 1960s by none other than Diana Vreeland, editor of Vogue magazine. 

Youthquake’s self-evident definition is “significant cultural, political or social change arising from the actions of young people.” Its equally self-evident etymology is from the words youth and earthquake.

While I’m on the subject, I might as well also confess that the runner-up words that the Oxford editors considered are also, for the most part, equally unknown to me: Those words are antifa, broflake, newsjacking, white fragility, gorpcore, kompromat, Milkshake Duck, and unicorn. 

Okay, I know about the radical leftist antifa (or anti-fascist) movement, especially with respect to its agitation against Confederate monuments. And of course I’m familiar with unicorns—I see them all the time—although I gather the word must have some more contemporary meaning to have been selected by the Oxford folks. 

But broflake?  Gorpcore?  Milkshake duck?  These are total strangers to my vocabulary. Who on earth uses these terms and what in blue blazes do they mean?

Well, for the benefit of those few of you who are as ignorant as I am of modern slang, here’s a quick glossary.

Broflake – a notably macho male who is easily offended, especially by liberal social reform.

Newsjacking – the art of subtly twisting a news item into a commercial plug or an endorsement of a point of view.

White fragility – discomfort by a white person when confronted with facts about racial injustice

Gorpcore – fashion design influenced by outdoors style, such as fleecy jackets, fannypacks, puffy sleeves, etc.  “Gorp” is a kind of trail food composed of granola, oats, raisins, and peanuts.

Kompromat – from a Russian portmanteau word meaning “compromising material” – damaging information used for blackmail or negative publicity of a public figure. 

Milkshake duck –  an internet meme consisting of a duck who can drink a milkshake, but who is later revealed to be a racist.  It now refers to anyone with feet of clay—originally enthusiastically praised but later found to have an unsavory side.

Unicorn – in its current sense, any product (especially food or drink) marketed in rainbow colors or decorated with glittery effects.

The Bard of Buffalo Bayou and I are still trying to cope with the words of earlier years—like “swell,” “whoopee,” “the bees’ knees,” and “chuckaboo.”  Take that, Oxford Dictionaries!

            New words are a pain,
            They’re all so ephemeral.
            They just clutter my brain.
            I’d rather take Demerol.

Tuesday, December 12, 2017

Hook, Line, & Sinker?


I’ve always been fascinated by business entities—mostly law offices, financial firms, and advertising agencies—whose names are a list of the principal partners. Such names have always possessed a certain poetry for me, and I loved to recite them aloud. The classic, which I came across in my childhood, was Batten, Barton, Durstine & Osborne—an ad agency whose name the comedian Fred Allen famously said “sounds like a trunk falling downstairs.”

Nowadays, the firm usually goes by BBD&O, which has much less romance to it.

Merrill, Lynch, Pierce, Fenner, and Beane was another wonderfully named company, until Smith replaced Beane, and eventually it became known simply as Merrill Lynch, and was then gobbled up by Bank of America.

Law firms are prime examples of polynominalism.  Among the best are Paul, Weiss, Rifkind, Wharton & Garrison; Akin, Gump, Strauss, Hauer & Feld; and Skadden, Arps, Slate, Meagher & Flom.

Accountants were no slouches in the multiple-name department. Touche, Ross, Bailey & Smart led the pack, followed by Lybrand, Ross Bros. & Montgomery; Deloitte, Haskins & Sells; and Peat, Marwick & Mitchell. Mergers have destroyed the magic, and now instead we have plain old Deloitte or a monstrosity like KPMG. For shame!

Growing up in Houston, I was entranced by the names of law firms such as Vinson, Elkins, Weems & Searls (later either Connally or Smith was added); Fulbright, Crooker, Freeman & Bates (later plus Jaworski); Baker, Botts, Andrews, Shepherd & Coates; Andrews, Kurth, Campbell & Bradley (later plus Jones); and  Butler, Binion, Rice, Cook & Knapp.  When switchboard operators answered the phone “Butler Binion,” it always sounded to me as if they were saying “Butter beans.”

My alltime favorite, which managed to squeeze six partners’ names into the title, was Hill, Brown, Kronzer, Abraham, Watkins & Steely.

The Houston ad agency of Goodwin, Dannenbaum, Littman & Wingfield was also a gem, too often shortened in common parlance to GDL&W.

When I was an alleged student of philosophy at The Rice Institute way back when, our textbook had a chapter on German philosophers, several of whom I thought should have gotten together and formed a firm. It would have been called Schlegel, Schelling, Schiller, Schopenhauer, and Schleiermacher. Now that’s poetry!

Poetry is an alien term to the Bard of Buffalo Bayou, whose verbiage is something else—although no one knows quite what.

            Trump, McConnell, Ryan, & Pence,
            All, by repute, Republican gents,
                        Were first against Moore,
                         Then said they were for--
            But wished they could stay on the fence.