Obscure Reference of the MONTH

I have returned after a long hiatus. Lots of shit happening but nothing so consequential and life altering that I was impelled to share it. I am "inspired" given that my stint as a real estate salesperson has welled up this urgency to not think about the short-sighted universe of brokering.

But yet I am. I am brainstorming a new word for the dick-heads orbit in Brokeromeda. (Of course it's not very Budda-like to speak so contemptuously, but I am using that as an avenue to vent, so maybe it's helping my karma).

As of yet, no light bulbs are going off. But I am remembering my invention of "cinemachismo" while I was in film school, of which I am sad to not have entered it officially into the lexicon earlier. I knew there was a word for an invented word or the inventor. It's been irking me the last couple days. So serendipitously, I was cleaning out one of my many email inboxes, and came across this article regarding a man who invented a word, "biophilia."

He is an:
eponym (noun, pronounced ep-uh-nim).

From Dictionary.com:

1. A word or name derived from the name of a person. The words atlas, bowdlerize, and Turing machine are eponyms.
2. A person whose name is or is thought to be the source of the name of something.

Obscure Reference of the Week: Ennui

ennui (noun) from Dictionary.com:

Pronounciation [ahn-wee, ahn-wee; Fr. ahn-nwee]

–a feeling of utter weariness and discontent resulting from satiety or lack of interest; boredom: The endless lecture produced an unbearable ennui.
[Origin: 1660–70; F: boredom; OF enui displeasure]

The how and the why: This word came up when I was researching places to see in San Diego: Lonely Planet says there is "no chance to develop ennui" in this city. This is ironic, because the word embodies what gripped me last time I was there. I'm staying with my ex's parents, who are extremely nice and generous, but they aren't exactly exciting people. They don't like any contemporary music, meaning nothing before 1960 – no rock 'n' roll, club, electronica, not even pop. Their pulse races at the thought of going on a nature hike or to the symphony. The wildest they get is a margarita at dinner. Oh wee!

Maybe I should stay in a hostel.

See also "Ennui," a poem by Syliva Plath.

Obscure Reference of the Week: Gordian Knot

In lieu of my Recipe Tip of Day (which I will resume in April), I am starting a new series, Obscure Reference of the Week. I take pride in my oft off-tangent way of elucidation. (Anyone that can follow where the heck I'm going in my writing or speech gets beaucoup brownie points with me.) As such, I've been inspired from my last lengthy rumination to expand my horizons and my vocabulary. I don't want to embarrass my son as he and I get older and regress into some Flowers for Algernon retard.

Each week (if I'm diligent) I'll introduce some new word or clause I've come across and don't understand. It'll be a challenge for me to somehow work that phrasing into one of my blogs during the rest of week without forcing it.

This week: Gordian Knot (noun), which according to Dictonary.com means:

1. any very difficult problem; insoluble in its own terms
2. an intricate knot tied by Gordius, the king of Phrygia, and cut by the sword of Alexander the Great after he heard that whoever undid it would become ruler of Asia

The how and why: I'm into cosmology (on a very low-fi, populist scale — don't ask me to prove any equations) and a PBS-Nova/Science-Channel slut. I mentioned the "theory of everything" in my blog about real estate studies. I linked that phrase to a recent and fascinating Nova doc on the subject, The Elegant Universe. I decided to actually read one of my hyperlinked references and I came across "Gordian Knot" in Brian Greene's essay. I'm also a fan of ancient Western history and mythology, where the phrase originates.

I will extend the challenge to anyone who chanced upon this site, to add a comment to my blog, working the phrase in themselves. ;-)