Tenniser - a summer research project

By guest explorer: Fred Shivvin

It's summer. Holidays at the beach: hassled driving, then relaxed dining, drinking, reading, sleeping, swimming, watching the cricket and playing it on the beach. (Or, for some, fighting bush fires).

The holiday beach game. Source

When you do any of these you become: a (hassled) driver, diner, drinker, reader, sleeper, swimmer, watcher (or viewer), player and cricketer. ''I'll be the bowler first. You go fielder, Fred.' (Or, for some, a fire-fighter).

I'm also watching and playing that other summer sport - tennis. And it occurs to me: why is there no word tenniser?

Rules in English almost always have exceptions. But the word tenniser doesn't break any English rules or conventions, so why don't we use it?

Over my summer holiday, I decided to find out why.

TATKOP 118

There Are Two Kinds Of People: those who relish others' knowledge and those who relish others' ignorance.

See more in the TATKOP series.

Admin message Xmas 2019

Hello fellow Wordly Explorers

We've taking a short break from posting to consider the blog, what we might keep doing, what we might change, to talk with some interested writers, and also to have a little refresh. 

If you're taking a break now too, we hope it is full of wonderful words. 

Economist - a word that requires an adjective

The journalist was interviewing the Prime Minister about a government proposal for boosting jobs. The proposal had no modelling, no risk analysis, no costings - no detail in fact. 

Would you trust them? Source

She asked him how he knew the program would work without any of this basic groundwork being completed.

She asked, 'Why should the Australian people trust your word?' 

'Well’, he replied, 'because I am an economist, Leigh.' 

In the political fog that makes it difficult to find facts and detail, this comment struck me as particularly alarming. I think the prime minister thought he was providing a genuine and satisfactory answer. 
 

Why is economics a matter of 'trust'?

It's not any sort of answer actually. It just raises a whole lot of questions.

When a politician justifies their view by saying they are an economist, does that mean their views are correct? What expertise are they claiming? What gives an economist authority to comment on the hugely complex society of a country? Why does the prime minister think that an individual economist can forecast the outcomes of fiscal policy, even without doing any modelling? (And I have to add, can the prime minister even claim to be an economist? Studying a Bachelor of Science (Hons) in geographic economics - a subfield of geography - and then never working in the field hardly makes one an economist. But then, that's probably the least pressing of the questions I have about this field.) 

Let's start at the beginning: what is an economist anyway?

TATKOP 117

There Are Two Kinds Of People: those who think that gender is socially constructed and those who don't know what social construction is.

See more in the TATKOP series.

Douchebag - easy sewing project

By guest explorer: Mae Wright

The last post Douches - and other bags touched on the practice of adding 'bag' to words to make an insult about people - a 'human bag' full of whatever unpleasant stuff - douche, wind, scum, rats etc. (It also links to using old bag or baggage as insult for an older woman.)

If adding 'bag' makes an unpleasant substance into an insult, it follows that a bigger bag is a bigger insult. Right?

Which brings me to the douche satchel!

From Urban dictionary, the douche satchel is:

♦️ a 'satchel' is a really big bag... of 'douche'. So someone who is a really big douche bag, would be a 'douche satchel'
♦️ an expletive, used in instances of anger/frustration.

Artist's impression

That makes sense: some douchebags are very annoying, and some are very, very annoying. The more overtly entitled and in-your-face, the more irritating and aggravating, so the larger the 'bag'. 

I wonder, is this the beginning of douche insults escalating in baggage sizes? The douche backpack, the douche suitcase, the douche ski-bag? (Come to think of it, I'm sure I've dated a few douche ski-bags.)

Douches - and other bags

A scumbag, a windbag and a douchebag walk into a bar. 

Just a regular Thursday at my local. We regulars glance at the door as each arrives, dismay or resignation crossing many faces. If I notice early enough, I will try to escape. Sometimes, for a while, I can deflect them by looking really busy with my phone, but that is only ever temporary protection. 

The scumbag (who sometimes brings his mate, the ratbag) is not so hard to protect against. Just never trust what he says, avoid shouting him drinks (unless you want to donate to his personal finances), and avoid making insults even in jest. He can be funny in a cynical, defeated, nasty sort of way. But he can turn suddenly, so it's best never to let your guard down. Finish the drink and then say, 'Okay, have a good night. Gotta see a friend about my car.' 

The windbag is easier still; just try to steer the conversation to something you don't mind hearing about. At length. Escape is usually possible after a 'decency' period of about 10 minutes of listening to what is often little more than a whinge, without you getting a word in. As you slide off the stool, slide in a quick, 'Oh well, shit happens. Gotta run, have to see a mate about my car.' He will wonder: 'You do seem to have a lot of trouble with that car.' But keep moving, 'Yeah, it keeps happening.' 

Artwork: TheBeardedCavalier

But the douchebag. Ugg. Massively irritating and hard to escape. 

He boxes you in your seat standing too close with his arms akimbo. Even his popped collar is irritating. And he's not so easy to get rid of with reports of car trouble. The douchebag knows exactly what is wrong with my car, and insists on telling me how to repair it with step by step instructions, and also insists that I must be causing this problem by riding the clutch, but then adds that it is a known weakness in that model as the original design for those Japanese cars was never been fully tested in Australian conditions. Et. Bloody. Cetera.

He is so busy demonstrating his seemingly endless knowledge, he totally ignores my body language screaming that I want to be just about anywhere else. 

Eventually, one of the bar staff comes over to collect the empties and the douchebag is forced to move slightly when she reaches through, so I slip through the space and start walking, speaking with my head turned back to my old, no longer comfortable seat, 'That might be handy that information. See ya next time. Gotta go...' 

Next Thursday, I'll try the other pub. 

What makes the douchebag so utterly annoying?

And why doesn't the douchebag know he is one?