Gamestopped

Over at Goodreports I’ve added a review of Ben Mezrich’s take on the Gamestop short squeeze, The Antisocial Network. This is the book that the movie Dumb Money was based on. I didn’t care for the movie (in fact, I hated it), and I didn’t like the book for a lot of the same reasons, but I think Mezrich at least gives you enough of the story to draw your own conclusions about what was going on.

Given the terrifying explosion in sports betting that’s happening, the crypto phenomenon, and the broader “gamification” of the stock market it’s a lesson that really needs to be driven home at every opportunity: If you’re gambling, you’re losing. The house always wins.

Suicide solution?

Last week I read a news story about an apparent murder-suicide that had happened in the U.S. Except it wasn’t reported as being a murder-suicide. Instead, the police chief was quoted as referring to it as possibly being “a murder-[expletive].”

I have to admit that when I first read this I did a double take. I couldn’t figure out what the police chief had said. It took a couple of moments for the penny to drop.

Was this an example of the “language police” riding again? Apparently it’s been considered wrong for a while now to say “committed suicide” because “commit” implies or suggests that suicide is a sin or a crime, as this is how it’s been looked on in the past, albeit not recently. And by “not recently” I mean probably not in many people’s memory.

There’s still some stigma attached to suicide, but this has more to do with the act itself than the language. But let’s stick with the word. As the medical director for The American Foundation for Suicide Prevention puts it: “We wouldn’t say commit cancer or a heart attack. It implies something that’s willful and morally reprehensible.”

This sounds fair, though I still don’t think I’d want to ban the use of the expression outright. And thinking about it more deeply, I’m not sure the analogy holds. Cancer and a heart attack aren’t acts. People don’t do a heart attack or cancer. Saying that suicide isn’t a “willful” act is also problematic. Surely in some cases, like medically-assisted suicide in this country, it is profoundly willful. To say otherwise would be to deny personal agency in what is an agonizing decision over how to end one’s life.

But the news story went further, choosing to see the word suicide as an “expletive.” This is where things got interesting for me. Let’s take a couple of dictionary definitions of “expletive”:

Merriam-Webster:

a syllable, word, or phrase inserted to fill a vacancy (as in a sentence or a metrical line) without adding to the sense

an exclamatory word or phrase, especially one that is obscene or profane

Wikipedia:

An expletive is a word or phrase inserted into a sentence that is not needed to express the basic meaning of the sentence. It is regarded as semantically null or a placeholder. Expletives are not insignificant or meaningless in all senses; they may be used to give emphasis or tone, to contribute to the meter in verse, or to indicate tense.

The primary definition comes from the Latin expletivus, meaning to fill out or take up space. The secondary meaning defines it as a word considered to be offensive, a profanity or curse.

Now I’ll be honest and say I didn’t even know the primary meaning of expletive as a placeholder. For people my age I think the word expletive first came into public consciousness with the release of the expurgated transcripts of the Oval Office tapes of Richard Nixon, which made famous the phrase “expletive deleted.” My father had a political cartoon of Nixon swearing his oath of office with one hand on the Bible and the oath itself peppered with “expletive deleteds.” I’ll never forget it.

So what has happened is that the word “suicide” has been redefined as an expletive, something offensive to be deleted from reported speech. Not just “committing suicide,” but the suicide itself. Unfortunately, what this has resulted in, at least online, is an awkward grasping for euphemisms or circumlocutions to fill the gap. Most of these have been, frankly, ridiculous. Self-deletion? Or, even worse, “unalive”?

In 2024 Seattle’s Museum of Pop Culture actually got in trouble for rewriting a Nirvana exhibit to say that Kurt Cobain had “un-alived himself” rather than “died by suicide.” There was a public backlash to that and it had to be corrected, but the fuss underlined what has become a digital-age phenomenon. The thing is, digital media platforms, most prominently YouTube, can and do demonetize content that runs afoul of speech codes. Which is why, watching some videos or listening to podcasts, you’ll hear certain words blanked out or else substituted for something less likely to trigger the algorithm.

This has become so prevalent that the resulting language even has its own name: algospeak. This refers to the code words that are used to evade automated or human moderation. “Unalive” is one such example.

Algospeak has its critics. Some people in the suicide prevention community, for example, see it as potentially confusing individuals who may be looking for help and who can’t decode the new slang. But it’s interesting to see the forces at work that push language to evolve.

Are we better off today than when I was a kid? In public and high school kids in my generation listened to songs like Ozzy Osbourne’s “Suicide Solution” and Queen’s “Don’t Try Suicide.” I can still remember in grade 7 or 8 hearing the latter come on at a dance:

Don’t try suicide, nobody’s worth it
Don’t try suicide, nobody cares
Don’t try suicide, you’re just gonna hate it
Don’t try suicide, nobody gives a damn

A teacher who was standing nearby turned to one of his fellow teachers and laughingly remarked: “Nobody gives a damn? That’s not being very positive.” And that’s as far as things went back in the day. Were we made stronger by listening to such lyrics? Or damaged by them? Osbourne was actually sued after someone listening to “Suicide Solution” killed himself but the claim failed at trial. On the broader question of the role language plays in such cases, the jury’s still out.

The Pitiful Human-Lizard: Far from Legendary

The Pitiful Human-Lizard: Far from Legendary

There’s a sort of Holy Grail not just of superhero comic writing but of superhero and monster movies and basically any story where the emphasis is on action and effects. The Grail I mean is making the rest of the story, if not compelling on its own, then at least not dead weight. Are you just interested in Spider-Man, or do you really care about Peter Parker and what’s going on in the rest of his life? If you are interested in Peter Parker, or Bruce Wayne, or the scientists and military men trying to stop Godzilla, then that’s a huge win.

I thought Jason Loo, doing double duty as author and artist of The Pitiful Human-Lizard, aced this part of the test. Lucas Barrett may be a bit of a stereotype of the young urban male who’s stuck in a nowhere job doing data entry and looking for love on the side (i.e., the Internet), but I still found him a likeable, relatable figure. He dresses up in a strange costume with sticky gloves he uses to climb walls. This wall climbing is (1) a habit he inherited from his father, who was the original Human-Lizard, and (2) the only thing vaguely lizard-like about him. I actually didn’t think Human-Lizard was a very appropriate name, and the “Pitiful” part really mystified me. He’s just an average Joe, not pathetic.

Anyway, one day Lucas, looking to make some extra money, volunteers to be a guinea pig for a drug company. They give him a serum that endows him with super restorative powers. Basically he’s like Deadpool: no matter what sort of injury he suffers his body will always heal itself back to normal. So now he really is a superhero, even if he’s out of his depth taking on most of the bad guys he faces. Which means he needs the assistance of other heroes like the powerful Mother Wonder (“a working woman and the finest superhero in Toronto”) and the psionic Lady Accident, who doubles as his would-be girlfriend.

Yes, I said Toronto. Loo really enjoys hitting all the landmarks, with fights being staged at the Royal Ontario Museum, the Eaton Centre, and Honest Ed’s. I think these comics were first published in 2015 and Honest Ed’s closed in 2016, but I still remember it. In fact, I still remember when there was an Eaton’s store in the Eaton Centre. I’m getting old. Also part of the Toronto spirit are the “Terrorno Girls” who get dressed up like the Toronto Raptors team mascot so that they can whale on people with their dinosaur tails. They despise Human-Lizard and his loserish superhero buddy Majestic Rat. This latter fellow is a sort of Jughead figure who can control the city’s rodent population.

I liked all these characters, and the oddball plots hatched by the bad guys, including a mastermind influencer who sets up a team of villains called the Frustrated Four and a team of scientists who are creating Kirby-esque monsters underneath the city. Where I thought the comic fell down a bit is in the action scenes. Loo does the hard parts well in creating a bunch of fun and original characters, but then the meat and potatoes of a superhero comic, the fisticuffs and explosions, aren’t as impressive. He has trouble rendering figures in motion, for one thing.

So one’s usual expectations when coming to a superhero comic, even one as ironic as this, are inverted. I got so I was actually looking forward more to seeing Lucas hanging out with Barb, or Mother Wonder wrestling with her kids, than to another monster eruption. But there’s enough of both to enjoy.

Graphicalex

Marple: Tape-Measure Murder

I have to give Agatha Christie a lot of credit for being able to write in such a way that she somehow manages to conceal her clues in plain sight. This is a quick story and very simple in outline and I went in to it figuring I’d catch her out. But I must have been half asleep because she gives it away right in the title, and with a ridiculously conspicuous clue in the middle of the story that Miss Marple herself points to.

I remember years ago reading an analysis of Christie’s writing that showed how it had measurable soporific qualities. So maybe I was half asleep. It’s the only explanation I can come up with. Yes, there is some misdirection, but even that’s pretty obvious. And it’s not like we’re provided with all the information Miss Marple has. But we do get enough to finger the guilty party. I failed, and have no excuse.

Adding to my collection of Britishisms, I was surprised at the use of the word “tweeny” to describe a member of the household staff. I thought the girl in question might have been quite young and what was meant was that she was a “tween,” which is a term sometimes used to describe kids aged 8-14. But I looked into it and in fact it has (or had) a more specific meaning: a maid who assists both cook and housemaid. Since most households these days don’t have regular cooks and housemaids, I imagine “tweeny” in this sense has pretty much gone out of use as well.

Marple index

Putting my feet up

Not every word I pull a blank on is some obscure, archaic, or technical term that I feel no shame in not knowing. Sometimes I’m baffled by a fairly common or everyday word that I’ve just never heard before. Ignorance may be embarrassing to admit, but we can’t grow our vocabulary through shame. In that spirit . . .

I was recently re-reading Ross Macdonald’s first Lew Archer novel. The Moving Target, and in the final pages came across a description of a young lady sitting in a living room, “hugging her legs on a hassock beside the fireplace.”

Hassock? I was reaching for a dictionary.

Here’s what I learned. The word “hassock” has its origin in the Old English hasec, which means a clump of grass. And in some dictionaries it still has that secondary meaning. Which is apparently the same as “tussock,” another word I never use though one I have at least heard of.

From being a clump of grass the use of hassock was transferred to something soft to either sit or kneel upon. Specifically, it was used to describe the cushioned rest that you kneel on when praying in church. These are also called “kneelers.” I’ve never heard them referred to as hassocks, but then I don’t spend a lot of time in church.

More commonly though, a hassock is a large thick cushion used either as a seat or for resting your feet on. This is how it is used in The Moving Target. I would just call it a footstool or ottoman, and have never heard the word hassock before. At leat that I can remember. I’d read The Moving Target before but I guess I just skipped over it.

If you go online you will find that there is a distinction that’s made between ottomans and hassocks. Here’s how one website put it: “Ottomans are versatile and multifunctional, working as footrests, extra seating, coffee tables, or storage. They often have a flat, sturdy surface, perfect for holding items. Hassocks, on the other hand, are all about simplicity and comfort. They’re smaller, often cushioned all around, and mainly used as footrests.”

The key distinction is that ottomans have storage space while hassocks do not. This surprised me, as I wouldn’t have thought of ottomans as storing anything. I just thought they were cushioned footrests. Like hassocks. Except hassock is a word I’ve never used.

From my readings I think it’s clear that the word hassock isn’t used a lot by anyone anymore, and no longer serves much of a function since ottoman and footstool or footrest basically mean the same thing now.

Words, words, words

Chew Volume Four: Flambé

Chew Volume Four: Flambé

Are things coming together, or breaking further apart? I’m not sure. The previous Chew volume, Just Desserts, ended with strange letters in flames being written in the sky, presumably by aliens. In this book a couple of people seem to have a vision of what the letters mean, but one of them is a voresoph – someone capable of superhuman mental feats after consuming vast quantities of food (so the more he eats, the smarter he gets) – and he basically eats himself to death, while the other is the mysterious Mason Savoy, and at this point in the story nobody knows what he’s up to.

Some old characters are back doing their thing, like Poyo the killer cockerel, the busty lethal ladies of the USDA, and the murderous Vampire, while we’re finding out more about others, such as the fact that Tony’s sister, Toni, as well as his daughter Olive, are cibopaths as well. One very fringe figure comes back from an earlier comic, reborn as the high priestess of a chicken cult, while other characters that were fairly central (Tony’s girlfriend Amelia Mintz and Ray Jack Montero, the guy who was trying to make frogs taste like chicken) are MIA.

In short, more weirdness. But I liked it and respected that it felt like Layman and Guillory were still stretching the limits of what they could do with all this.

Graphicalex

Ghostyards

Halloween is coming up this week. These inflatable lawn decorations seem to be all the rage.  I did a post on one of the more excessive last year. Here are a couple of others I saw yesterday morning. I like the pirate ship with the skeletons overboard. (You can click on the pics to make them bigger.)

MAD’s Al Jaffee Spews Out More Snappy Answers to Stupid Questions

MAD’s Al Jaffee Spews Out More Snappy Answers to Stupid Questions

The title is quite the mouthful, but it was a follow-up to a previous volume of Snappy Answers to Stupid Questions. Al Jaffee explains the background in an introductory interview with Nick Meglin:

NM: Is this book a sequel to “Snappy Answers to Stupid Questions”?

AJ: No, it’s a sequel to the Bible!

NM: Was the first book a success?

AJ: No, it was a failure! They always do sequels of failures!

NM: Was it difficult coming up with entirely new situations and gags?

AJ: No, it was easier! It’s always easier after you’ve done it all and there’s nothing else to write about!

That should give you some idea of the sort of humour that’s on tap. And surprisingly it works. You’d think such a simple idea, repeated over and over again, would get tired pretty quickly, but Jaffee mixes things up well. For example, he includes mini-stories told in the form of a series of snappy answers to stupid questions, one of which is even done in rhyme, with a “smart aleck Hippie” getting blown up by some hardhat workers.

Now personally I don’t like snappy answers to any questions when I encounter them in the real world or online. I think it’s just people trying to be smart and usually succeeding only in being rude. But I didn’t mind the insults here, plus there were also some “stinging comebacks to snappy answers” and other jabs at the snapsters along the way (including what happens to the aforementioned hippie). So it was all fun in MAD’s typical early ‘70s style. A style that’s maintained right down to the plugs and the book’s dedication:

To the people at MAD who made it possible, and the people at the Internal Revenue Service who made it necessary!

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