ivman's blague

A recent news item caught my attention. Linda Ramirez-Sliwinski, one of Barack Hussein Obama’s elected delegates from the Chicago area to the Democratic National Convention was given a $75 ticket for “disorderly conduct,” which is defined as, “when a person does something that alarms or disturbs another.”

What did she do to deserve this ticket? She told some neighbor children who were climbing in a tree to quit playing in the tree like monkeys. She is reported to have said she “saw the kids playing in the tree and didn’t want them falling out of the tree and getting hurt.” She said she calls her own grandchildren “monkeys” and didn’t understand why anyone would object to her calling the children monkeys. The mother of one of the children did not see it that way, noting she and Ramirez-Sliwinski have clashed before. The mother called the police who gave Ramirez-Sliwinski the $75 fine.

There were reports that she was considering stepping down as a delegate, possibly at the request of Obama’s campaign. In fact the campaign announced yesterday that she was stepping down, but the latest articles I’ve read indicate that she still plans to be a delegate and still has an Obama sign in her front yard.

To me this story is yet another example of political correctness gone crazy. I think there are people out there who get up every morning and perch a chip perilously on their shoulder, in hopes that someone will knock it off as early in the day as possible so that they can be angry/upset/offended for as much of the day as possible.

Don’t get me wrong, I believe that we should always be careful in our word choices. No one should go out of his way to offend people - and some do just that, being as abrasive and controversial as possible. But people need to lighten up too and not seek to find cause for offense in stupid things. Of all things, being upset for calling kids monkeys! Will we have to rename “monkey bars” for fear of some nitwit taking offense?! Good grief!

But to be ticketed for it is beyond the pale! Do we still have freedom of speech in this nation? The thought of government fining someone for something like this would be unbelievable if it weren’t true. But it *is* true! Our people had better wake up to what political correctness (or political cleansing) is doing to our freedoms, before it’s too late!

In true, politically incorrect ivman fashion, I will try to relieve any tension caused by the preceding by gently lampooning it. In an increasingly politically correct world, we have new, more sensitive names and ways of saying just about everything. Here are some student-related PC expressions you may not have heard of:

No one fails a class anymore. He’s merely “passing impaired.”

You don’t have detention. You’re just one of the “exit delayed.”

Your room isn’t cluttered. It’s just “passage restrictive.”

A student isn’t lazy. She’s “energetically declined” or “motivationally dispossessed.”

A student isn’t hyperactive. He’s “serenity impaired.”

Your locker isn’t overflowing with junk, it’s just “closure prohibitive.”

Kids don’t get grounded anymore. They merely hit “social speed bumps.”

Your homework isn’t missing. It’s just having an “out-of-notebook experience.”

You’re not sleeping in class. You’re “rationing consciousness.”

You’re not late. You just have a “rescheduled arrival time.”

You’re not having a bad hair day. You’re suffering from “rebellious follicle syndrome.”

Your teacher isn’t bald. He’s “follicularly challenged and comb-free.”

A girl doesn’t have big hair. She is “overly aerosoled.”

You’re not doing poorly in class. You are “on a detour off the information highway” or are “cerebrally underactive.”

You don’t have smelly gym socks. You have “odor-retentive athletic footwear.”

A student is not obnoxious. He is “charismatically impeded.”

No one’s tall or short anymore. He’s “vertically enhanced” or vertically challenged.”

You’re not shy. You’re “conversationally selective.”

You don’t talk a lot. You’re just “abundantly verbal.”

You’re not able to carry a tune. You’re a “tonal underachiever.”

You’re not conceited. You’re “extremely aware of your best qualities.”

Your teacher is not old. He is “geriatrically advanced” or “chronologically gifted.” (I like that one!)

You weren’t passing notes in class. You were “participating in the discreet exchange of penned meditations.”

It’s not called gossip anymore. It’s “the speedy transmission of near-factual information.”

You’re not being sent to the dean’s office. You’re “going on a mandatory field trip to the administrative building.”

One is no longer a class clown. He is either “a buffoonery overachiever” or is simply “humor appreciative.”

In a comment to the previous blog post about buzzwords, J.D. left a hilarious comment with a link to a site where you can download “buzzword bingo” for fun at that next meeting where buzzwords will be flying around.

quotation…

“If I were the devil, … I would convince the people that right and wrong are determined by a few who call themselves authorities and refer to their agenda as politically correct.” - Paul Harvey

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Rob

When at loss for the right word to say, why not try silence?

Tags: language, politics, rants, school, students

This past weekend a colleague and I went to a conference for foreign language teachers - the SCOLT/SCFLTA Conference - in Myrtle Beach, SC. We were able to be there only for the Saturday morning sessions. After experiencing the quality of those sessions, we wished we had attended all three days of the conference. It was far better than the national ACTFL Conference we had attended the fall of 2006!

I’m fluent in French, can hold my own in German, and can handle some situations in Spanish and Chinese. However, one of the things I found difficult at the conference was trying to understand a language that I’m not very good at - educational buzzwords. This is the impetus for today’s iv….

Buzzwords

Buzzwords, expressions like scenario, 24/7, soft money, proactive, venue, wiki, hit the ground running, win-win, affluenza, dotcom, fatcat, gridlock, etc., both amuse me and drive me crazy (crazier?)! People in management, geeks, politicians, the media, and even educators love to use buzzwords.

According to Wikipedia, “a buzzword (also known as a fashion word or vogue word) is an idiom, often a neologism, commonly used in managerial, technical, administrative, and sometimes political environments. Though apparently ubiquitous in these environments, the words often have unclear meanings.”

Some would readily point out that the word buzzword itself is a buzzword, so named because of the desire to employ the words that create a special effect, or buzz, in another’s mind.

In the business world, it seems to be important that reports contain lots of buzzwords. What the reports actually say isn’t nearly as important as the ability to show that you are on the cutting edge in the use of the current buzzwords.

In 1968, Newsweek magazine published a short, but humorous article, How to Win at Wordsmanship. After years of hacking through etymological thickets at the U.S. Public Health Service, a (then) 63-year-old official named Philip Broughton had hit upon a sure-fire method for converting frustration into fulfillment, at least jargonwise. Euphemistically called the Systematic Buzz Phrase Projector, Broughton’s system employs a lexicon of 30 carefully chosen “buzzwords.”

The procedure is simple: Think of any three-digit number. Then select the corresponding buzzword from each column.

For instance, number 257 produces “systematized logistical projection,” a phrase that can be dropped into virtually any report with a sincere ring of decisive, knowledgeable authority. No one will have the remotest idea of what you’re talking about, but the important thing is that they are not about to admit it!

BUZZWORDS FOR MANAGERS (or wannabe managers)

After my experience at the teachers’ conference this past weekend, I wondered if the same could be done for educational jargon, which borders on buzzwords. Educators are often guilty of using “edspeak” - a language spoken by those inside the education profession that is often not comprehensible to people outside the profession. The term is modeled on George Orwell’s “newspeak” from his novel 1984. This professional jargon is also known as educationese, eduspeak, edubabble, and pedagogese. The following could also be helpful to anyone writing a grant proposal.

The table below enables you to create most of a sentence, giving you a verb, and adjective, and a noun. You just have to flesh it out. For instance, 239 would yield “benchmark cross-curricular methodologies”. You could then craft that into a powerfully cryptic sentence such as, “This assessment tool would allow us to benchmark our present cross-curricular methodologies.” Scary, huh?!

BUZZWORDS FOR EDUCATORS

I got the words used above by picking my favorites from a long list of edspeak words at http://www.sciencegeek.net/lingo.html It’s a fun site to visit - there’s a button at the top that you can keep hitting to generate random phrases from their long lists.

If you’d like to see a long list of other buzzwords, each one linked to its definition, go to http://www.investopedia.com/categories/buzzwords.asp

You can have more fun with a random buzzword generator at http://www.1728.com/buzzword.htm

quotation…

“I think we educators are unusually prone to use jargon, and of all people we ought to be the clearest in our language.” - Dr. Ruth Steele, at the time she made this statement, director of the state Education Department and a former English teacher

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Rob

Remember: Today’s buzzword could very well be tomorrow’s drivel.

Tags: buzzwords, educational, English, language, offices, school, work, writing

It’s been a while since I posted some puns (perhaps not long enough for some people). Anyway, for those who enjoy puns, these ought to bring forth some satisfying groans.

In the early 1700s, the captain of a Spanish pirate ship was very proud of his mongrel pet for its ability to bark once for “Si,” and twice for “No.”

After being captured by a British commander, the dog was taught the same trick in English. He thereby became … the world’s first “Si” and “Aye” dog!

A supportive friend brought a woman into the hospital. This poor woman was so cross-eyed that her tears ran down her back. After some time, the doctor came back out to the woman’s friend who immediately asked him, “You couldn’t do anything for her, could you?”

The doctor replied, “Yes, indeed. We treated her for bacteria.”

A man is dining in a fancy restaurant, and there is a gorgeous redhead sitting at the next table. He has been checking her out since he sat down, but he lacks the nerve to talk with her.

Suddenly she sneezes and her glass eye comes flying out of its socket towards the man. With quick reflexes, he reaches out, grabs it out of the air, and hands it back.

“Oh my, I am sooo sorry,” the woman says as she pops her eye back in place. “Please, let me buy your dinner to make it up to you.” He accepts her offer, and they enjoy a wonderful dinner together.

Afterwards the guy is amazed! “You know,” he says, “you are the perfect woman. Are you this nice to every guy you meet?”

“No,” she replies, “you just happened to catch my eye.”

Quasimodo goes to a doctor for an annual checkup. “I think something is wrong with your back,” the doctor says.

“What makes you say that?” asks Quasimodo.

“I don’t know,” the doctor replies. “It’s just a hunch.”

speaking of Quasimodo…

A Tale of Two Campanologists

After Quasimodo’s death, the bishop of the cathedral of Notre Dame sent word through the streets of Paris that a new bell ringer was needed. The bishop decided that he would conduct the interviews personally and went up into the belfry to begin the screening process.

After observing several applicants demonstrate their skills, he decided to call it a day when a lone, armless man approached him and announced that he was there to apply for the bell ringers job. The bishop was incredulous. “You have no arms!” “No matter,” said the man, “observe!” He then began striking the bells with his face, producing a beautiful melody on the carillon. The bishop listened in astonishment, convinced that he had finally found a suitable replacement for Quasimodo.

Suddenly, rushing forward to strike a bell, the armless man tripped, and plunged headlong out of the belfry window to his death in the street below. The stunned bishop rushed to his side.

When he reached the street, a crowd had gathered around the fallen figure, drawn by the beautiful music they had heard only moments before. As they silently parted to let the bishop through, one of them asked, “Bishop, who was this man?”

“I don’t know his name,” the bishop sadly replied, “but his face sure rings a bell.”

{Stop groaning, there’s more….}

The following day, despite the sadness that weighed heavily on his heart due to the unfortunate death of the armless campanologist, the bishop continued his interviews for the bell ringer of Notre Dame. The first man to approach him said, “Your excellency, I am the brother of the poor, armless wretch that fell to his death from this very belfry yesterday. I pray that you honor his life by allowing me to replace him in this duty.”

The bishop agreed to give the man an audition. As the armless man’s brother stooped to pick up a mallet to strike the first bell, he groaned, clutched at his chest and died on the spot. Two monks, hearing the bishop’s cries of grief at this second tragedy, rushed up the stairs to his side. “What has happened?” the first breathlessly asked, “Who is this man?”

“I don’t know his name,” sighed the distraught bishop, “but he’s a dead ringer for his brother.”

chickadee update…

Last evening I was able to peek into the bird house while the mama was gone - six little eggs….

quotation…

“Live as if today were the day Jesus will return, yet make long-range plans.” - Dr. Myron Houghton

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Rob

As she hears the wedding march, three items in the ceremony are foremost in a bride’s mind — aisle, altar, hymn.

Tags: birds, language, music, puns

This was one week where *real* bloggers could have posted something interesting almost every day. Monday was St. Patrick’s day. We received some great pictures of Drew for that occasion. Here’s one…

Yesterday was the day the swallows come back to Capistrano each year. Here’s a bit of the story…

The famous cliff swallows of the Mission San Juan Capistrano, in San Juan, California, leave town every year in a swirling mass near the Day of San Juan (St. John’s Day - October 23), They go to their winter home 6,000 miles south in Goya, Corrientes, Argentina. Five months later, almost to the day, they land at the Mission San Juan Capistrano on or around St. Joseph’s Day, March 19, to the ringing bells of the old church and a crowd of visitors from all over the world who are in town awaiting their arrival and celebrating with a huge fiesta as well as a parade.

Then today is the first day of spring. Tomorrow is Good Friday, and Sunday is Easter. As I said, bloggers could go wild this week. I’ll refrain from doing so.

Bible Conference has been a huge blessing so far, and there’s still more to come! Several have told me how glad they were to learn that they could listen in online as the messages are streamed.

With spring in the air, young people’s minds turn to romance. I found something in my files that brought a wry smile to the face, but then I’m a word person. The humor in this one is that the writer has masterfully used the positive version of many of the negative expressions in the English language that, in actuality, have no positive version.

How I Met My Wife - a positive experience
by Jack Winter
Published originally 25 July 1994 in The New Yorker

It had been a rough day, so when I walked into the party I was very chalant, despite my efforts to appear gruntled and consolate.

I was furling my wieldy umbrella for the coat check when I saw her standing alone in a corner. She was a descript person, a woman in a state of total array. Her hair was kempt, her clothing shevelled, and she moved in a gainly way.

I wanted desperately to meet her, but I knew I’d have to make bones about it since I was travelling cognito. Beknownst to me, the hostess, whom I could see both hide and hair of, was very proper, so it would be skin off my nose if anything bad happened. And even though I had only swerving loyalty to her, my manners couldn’t be peccable. Only toward and heard-of behavior would do.

Fortunately, the embarrassment that my maculate appearance might cause was evitable. There were two ways about it, but the chances that someone as flappable as I would be ept enough to become persona grata or a sung hero were slim. I was, after all, something to sneeze at, someone you could easily hold a candle to, someone who usually aroused bridled passion.

So I decided not to risk it. But then, all at once, for some apparent reason, she looked in my direction and smiled in a way that I could make heads or tails of.

I was plussed. It was concerting to see that she was communicado, and it nerved me that she was interested in a pareil like me, sight seen. Normally, I had a domitable spirit, but, being corrigible, I felt capacitated - as if this were something I was great shakes at - and forgot that I had succeeded in situations like this only a told number of times. So, after a terminable delay, I acted with mitigated gall and made my way through the ruly crowd with strong givings.

Nevertheless, since this was all new hat to me and I had no time to prepare a promptu speech, I was petuous. Wanting to make only called-for remarks, I started talking about the hors d’oeuvres, trying to abuse her of the notion that I was sipid, and perhaps even bunk a few myths about myself.

She respsonded well, and I was mayed that she considered me a savory character who was up to some good. She told me who she was. “What a perfect nomer,” I said, advertently. The conversation become more and more choate, and we spoke at length to much avail. But I was defatigable, so I had to leave at a godly hour. I asked if she wanted to come with me. To my delight, she was committal. We left the party together and have been together ever since. I have given her my love, and she has requited it.

quotation…

In a message about Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego (Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah)… “You will be given many opportunities in life to choose whether to bow or to burn. Choose to burn.” - Craig Hartman

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Rob

Boy am I happy! My IQ Test came back negative!

Tags: English, holidays, language, weddings and marriage, writing

During the spring semester every year I teach French Composition. At times it’s hard enough to write well in English, let alone in French, n’est-ce pas?! Today’s iv is a list of analogies and/or comparisons that students have supposedly used in papers submitted in high school classes. (I checked with snopes.com and found nothing to indicate that these are bogus.)

Worst analogies found in papers by high school students:

(WARNING - Several of these are truly weird! Make sure you are in a place where you can laugh out loud if you need to.)

The situation had become topsy-turvy - like Christmas in the summer, if you’re in Australia.

Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.

The information imbedded on the stolen computer chip was like an explosive so explosive it could explode, creating a massive explosion.

Her parting words lingered heavily inside me like last night’s Taco Bell.

The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.

His face looked like an ice sculpture. Not one of those pretty ones in the middle of a cruise ship buffet, but the kind they do in a contest with a chain saw - and it had been out in the heat too long.

She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs.

A single drop of sweat slowly inched down Chad’s brow - a tiny, glistening Times Square New Year’s Eve Ball of desperation.

The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t.

Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two other sides gently compressed by a ThighMaster.

He spoke with the wisdom that can come only from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.

From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another city and “Jeopardy” comes on at 7 p.m. instead of 7:30.

Her hair glistened in the rain like nose hair after a sneeze.

Her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in the center.

He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree.

She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.

She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.

Even in his last years, Grandpappy had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.

Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.

He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.

The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.

He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant and she was the East River.

He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame. Maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.

Her eyes were like limpid pools, only they had forgotten to put in any pH cleanser.

Her voice had that tense, grating quality, like a generation thermal paper fax machine that needed a band tightened.

It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to the wall.

The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.

Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan’s teeth.

John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.

The thunder was ominous sounding, much like the sound of a thin sheet of metal being shaken backstage during the storm scene in a play.

His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underwear in a dryer without Cling Free.

The red brick wall was the color of a brick-red Crayola crayon.

The politician was gone, but unnoticed, like the period after the Dr. on a Dr Pepper can.

She had a voice so husky it could have pulled a dogsled.

***
My wife Becka and daughter Nora arrived home safe and sound Tuesday evening. The weather was beautiful, the roads clear, and the traffic not bad. Thanks to any of you who prayed for their safety. We’re all getting caught up and ready for Bible Conference next week.

quotation…

“There’s nothing I can achieve that won’t pale in comparison with God’s glory.” - Dr. Drew Conley

=^..^= =^..^=
Rob

May your troubles be like a redneck’s teeth - few and far between.

Tags: analogies, language, school, students, writing