Tag Archive for 'Fun with words'

A call for submissions

Published
by
Colm
on 25 March, 2011
in Fiction and Writing
. 5 Comments

Writers, painters, sculptors, bakers, dancers, prancers, flautists, chancers: I want you to help me effect the gruesome death of an innocent man.

Specifically, old chum of mine David Maybury. You may or may not know him. You may wish him no ill. But that’s all right, because it’s all just (victim-endorsed) fiction. It’s not really happening! If it was, I probably wouldn’t be blogging about it. I would still tweet it though, because #lolmurder, and because I have to break that stubborn three-retweet barrier some day.

Details, then: I’m collecting stories in which Dave dies in some campy, outrageous fashion, to be published here. There’s no restriction on length or format (short is fine, illustrations are more than fine). There’s a rudimentary back-story on the site, but don’t worry about that – for the time being at least, it’s just a gag setup to justify a bunch of standalone stories.

Do head over and have a look, and if you’re at all interested in creating fiction of whatever stripe, I’d love to hear from you.

Weapons-grade stationery

Published
by
Colm
on 17 November, 2010
in Misc.
. 8 Comments

From a catalogue’s pages untimely ripp’d:

magazine safety brake system to control the ejection of the front-loading magazine

Not just a stapler, this, but seemingly the most badass stapler in the world. The kind you’d find behind the blast doors of CTU’s supply cupboard. You can hear the chunk of the payload sliding home. You can feel the weight of it. Right now, you want to dive out of your chair and roll into cover behind the nearest filing cabinet.

And yet, and yet, it’s still not enough for me. I’ve written to the manufacturer inquiring about the possibility of throwing some thermal optics on there for late-night operations, and possibly a suppressor for when you’re hiding out in a foreign embassy and need to stick some pages together on the down-low. What pages are you stapling? Top fucking secret pages.

Don’t mistake this for sarcasm. I once closed a staple remover on my fingertip, so I know god damn well how much damage casually wielded Tactical Desktop Instruments can inflict. Safety measures are not to be poo-pooed. I reiterate: poo-poo will not be tolerated.

Why It’s Kind of Troubling if This Doesn’t Represent a Wilful Misinterpretation of What The First Person Said

Published
by
Colm
on 8 April, 2010
in Fun with words
. 13 Comments

[A short discursion on a stranger's nethers, in two parts]

“Look on the bright side, you get your hole, you have 2 great kids, and you gt to pass of the door-knocking sales-scum to CL. Win-win, really.”

“Christ, could you refrain from referring to CL as a fucking hole? I know you think it’s jokey and cute, but it isn’t. It’s just a way to insult women.”

I.

“Getting your hole” is an idiom meaning “having sexual intercourse on a regular basis”. The hole in question could be a vagina or an anus–here, in context, it’s pretty clear that it’s a vagina. To a woman you might say “getting the length” or “getting your fill”1. So the direct meaning of the phrase, let’s say, is “having more or less unrestricted access to a vagina, subject to the ongoing approval of the person of whose body said vagina is a part”.

II.

So “hole” in this case refers specifically and solely to the vagina–i.e. to the organ, not the person. But now, look at the switcheroo happening between the two quoted comments: the second takes it as read that “hole” is referring to the person. In other words, the second commenter is speaking as if the vagina constitutes the entirety of the person’s being. Which, if I may offer a humble opinion here, is treading some pretty dodgy ontological ground, enlightened-outlook-wise.

  1. Though the latter is maybe a bit redolent of that musty old nonsense about passivity/receptivity and the psychosexual/social implications thereof, which let’s side-step that whole barrel of worms for now. [↩]

Machine language

Published
by
Colm
on 10 February, 2010
in Fun with words
. 5 Comments

Which of these looks right to you:

I have to go; somewhere there is a crime happening.

or

I have to go: somewhere there is a crime happening.

To me, the semicolon seems like “I have to go. Tangentially, somewhere there is a crime happening,” whereas the colon is much more authoritative: “I have to go AND HERE IS WHY”. You could of course make them two independent clauses, but let’s not lose all decorum here.

I don’t know if Robocop even cares about grammar. It seems like he should. I mean, the Terminator can get away with being all curt and barky1 because it doesn’t ever have much it needs to communicate, but Robocop is an officer of the law. You know? He can’t afford to be ambiguous.

  1. and pronouncing “neural” as if it has four syllables [↩]

On the metaphysics of customer service

Published
by
Colm
on 1 October, 2009
in Fun with words and Misc.
. 8 Comments

Got a text message from NTL there. Oh hey NTL, haven’t heard from you in a while! What’s happenin’, bro?

In Regards to a recent Termination – Cancellation on your Chorus/NTL account please be advised that despite numinous attempts we have been unable to contact you to collect our equipment.

Man, whatever. I mean, let’s not get into who tried to contact who, and who got through first time and arranged to pick up the equipment, and who nevertheless didn’t bother to turn up. Let’s not get into how maybe you’re coming off a little pissy right now, NTL. No. There are much more interesting things we could talk about.

When I first glanced over the message I read it as “despite numerous attempts”. But that ain’t what it says.

From Wikipedia: “Numinous (from the Classical Latin numen) is an English adjective describing the power or presence of a divinity.” Dear Mary. So that itch I’ve been getting on and off just behind my ear, is that them deploying their mighty powers to try to communicate with me? Perhaps my rock-solid rationalism has prevented them getting a clear signal. I shall clear my mind and meditate, and we shall see if we can sort this matter out once and for all.

… nope, still just trying to flog me a landline. Dammit NTL. Such a waste.

A free thing for you

Published
by
Colm
on 3 April, 2009
in Fun with words and Writing
. 13 Comments

Spectacularly poor timing – I meant to post this much earlier – but I find myself in possession of a whole heap of blank postcards (for mysterious reasons!) and I’m looking for something to do with them. I’ve always felt bad when other people do mix CDs and whatnot because there’s very little I can give them in return. So here we are: send an email to post at emesq dot com with your postal address and maybe a word or a sentence on what you’re into and I’ll write a short story for you.1

I’m hoping this is a thing that will be fun for all concerned. If it goes well enough we may even be able to throw some capital letters on there and make it a full-blown honest to god Thing. I would like that. And so would she.

  1. Very short, mind, we’re talking about a postcard here. I’ll make up for it by throwing on a wee doodle as well. Maybe even in colour! [↩]

Psychomachia as it pertains to mass transit

Published
by
Colm
on 4 March, 2009
in Fun with words
. 12 Comments

Some battles you can’t win. I’m telling you this for your own peace of mind.

You think that because you’re here, because it got you here, that it’s your friend, that it’s the good guy. Or at least you think you can see a good guy somewhere in there. You think that, sure, right now it’s in a bad place, it’s done some things no one would be proud of, but hasn’t everyone? Wouldn’t everyone? You think you can reach in there and bring that good guy out.

But you don’t know the truth: this ticket is not redeemable.

Oh, there was a time when it was. The old days. But not anymore, not after everything it’s done. See, when you’ve come a certain distance you just have to keep going. Momentum. The devil has you as his own. Like the man said: you can run from a knife, but you have to charge a gun.

So you can try. You can try all you want. You can call down the armies of heaven, you can move mountains. But you should know: this ticket will not bend. It will not fold. It’s going straight to hell and brother, it will bring you with it.

Jukebox Watching

Published
by
Colm
on 20 January, 2009
in Misc. and Music
. 5 Comments

So those touchscreen video jukeboxes: concealed within each one is a metric shitacre of hilarity. Every song gets a limited amount of real estate, with the result that titles often get truncated, leaving us with gems like:

  • I Would Do Meat Loaf
  • Here Comes The Shorty Long
  • I Just Called Stevie Wonder

and the reigning champion:

  • She Bangs The Stone Roses1

But I’ve discovered that it’s not limited to video jukeboxes. The wee little yokes in Eddie Rockets2, with their charming old-timey tunes, are suggestive goldmines3. Witness:

  • I’m Gonna Tear Your Ann Peebles
  • But I Do Clarence Henry
  • Tell Laura I Love Her Ray Petersen

and the plaintive

  • She’s Not There, Zombies

I would have more for you, but things got a bit Jimmy Ruffin last night after some girl accused me of grabbing her Ray Petersen, at which point her boyfriend punched me right in the Ann Peebles. Bad times.

  1. Tempted to say “former reigning champion”, because I’m Gonna Give Her Jimmy Ruffin is hammering on the doors like no one’s business. Incidentally, many cheers to Ruairi for refreshing my memory with these. Similarly incidentally, every man jack of you should be hitting up Futurism in Doran’s tomorrow night. [↩]
  2. I had to google Eddie Rockets to check if there’s supposed to be an apostrophe. So I’m guessing the place isn’t owned by an Eddie Rocket, but is in some way connected with a guy called Eddie Rockets. Does anyone else think that would be a brilliant name for a gangster? [↩]
  3. Suggestive gold: one of the few truly recession-proof commodities. [↩]

I puzzle myself.

Published
by
Colm
on 5 September, 2008
in Writing
. 2 Comments

I take a lot of notes. I’m swimming in them. This is largely to do with how jotting down ideas and thoughts and sketches is vastly, vastly more entertaining than the donkey work of proper writing. Plus, after a few years documenting every flash of genius that slops out of your noggin you have an impressive stack of books and scraps to lay around you while you slug cheap wine and jump around and shout things like “Yes!” and “Quite true!” and nod sagely to yourself and pretend you’re producing masterpieces.

Some writers claim you should always have a notebook handy, but they’re amateurs. You should always at least five. I’m hovering around seven these days, including On The Go, On The Go In Limited Capacity Trousers, Cutting Sociopolitical Observations In 500 Words Or Less and both Short- and Long-form Miscellany. You get bonus points for scrawling things on napkins and small pieces of driftwood and suchlike.

There’s also my mobile. I used to rely on this pretty heavily, but it loses its attraction when you start getting heavily into the habit of prancing around stacks of paper. Potential for being strewn becomes the primary criterium for note repositories. And of course, you have the character limit, which means you can lose a lot of detail. Still, I get some use out of it, generally when I’m drunk and in a crowd of people and whipping out a notebook would make me look like a proper poindexter.

This has its downsides, frankly. Witness:

all these ripe whatever fields had not happened, but there was an opportunity

Buh? There’s a classic short story in there, no doubt, full of high adventure and charismatic characters and Serious Themes, but chud me sideways if I know what it is. Then there’s the following, from 5.01am on the 20 October 2007:

Staying with a friend who’s a bit queasy, seeing dumptrucks pass by and a naked asian guy.

I like the capital letter and full stop there, as if it’s actually supposed to be a sentence and not just something I dreamed at the bottom of a jaegerbomb binge. I was in Galway at the time for a friend’s birthday, so maybe that clears things up. Maybe I just happened to see all those things in the middle of the night? I don’t know. Help me out here.

I have a headache

Published
by
Colm
on 6 August, 2008
in Fun with words, Links and Misc.
. 9 Comments

from banging my noggin against the Free Rice game. It’s one hundred levels of vocab-testing madness! And for a good cause.

Actually, I don’t know how many levels there are. I’ve never made it past 49 (which still makes me pretty smart and handsome if you ask me) and it gets damn punishing. I hope the skinny bastards know what I’m going through here just so they can have their leisurely brunch in the sun.

In other news I remain superlatively tired, having never gotten around to a proper night’s sleep since Batman Weekend. Or long before, for that matter. Still: no time. There’s celebratory Antics to hit tonight, podcasting tomorrow and whatever’s going on on Friday on Friday. I shall trust in jaegerbombs and ProPlus to get me through.

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