All Shook Up

In the early 1900s, Sigmund Freud lent his name to the parapraxis—the slip of the tongue—attributing this "verbal leakage" to a failure of the ego to repress a worrisome thought.

Psychologists today acknowledge the doctor was onto something when he identified the Freudian slip.

A parapraxis could indeed represent a failure of the ego to censor our unruly unconscious.

But what about the visual parapraxis?

The slip of the eye, which, although common, has no name in psychology.

My wife's frequent slips of the eye are a daily source of mirth in our home.

I could list them here, but I'd need a month. 

On occasion, I have slips of the eye, as well.

Yesterday, for example, I misread the ad headline "Learn to paint expressively" as "Learn to paint Elvis Presley."

Misreadings aren't the same as mondegreens, mishearings of song lyrics (for example, hearing Elvis sing "A midget like a man on a fuzzy tree" instead of "I'm itching like a man on a fuzzy tree.")

Misreadings, psychologists believe, can be due to any number of causes, including stress, distraction, exhaustion, bias, and good-old Freudian ego-failure.

My theory is that misreadings are a form of dissociation, those brief out-of-body experiences we all suffer (for example, when we daydream).

Misreadings, in fact, may constitute a form of Ganser syndrome, also known as "balderdash syndrome."

Balderdash syndrome is characterized by episodes of "pseudodementia," where you show show signs of dementia—including speech and language problems—even though you don't in fact have dementia.

In other words, when you're all shook up.

What slip of the eye did you last have?

Nouning

All bad writers are in love with the epic.

― Ernest Hemingway

The English language isn't precious; but it has its charms.

So when self-proclaimed wordsmiths defile it, I get pretty sore.

Among the greatest defilers are consultants.

When they speak, gibberish bursts from their mouths like puss from a boil; and when they write—or, as they prefer, when they "wordsmith"—clear English turns into hooey.

Consultants love, in particular, nouning: deadening verbs by converting them into nouns.

Nouning, they believe, elevates their jejune statements—and justifies their fees.

For example:

We're experiencing a disconnect.

Watch for my invite.

I know a foolproof hack.

That was an epic pivot.

That was an epic fail.

Equally vile are headline writers. 

When they start nouning, you'd better reach for the kidney dish. 

For example:

AMC hoping sales reach $5.2 billion. Here’s why that’s a big ask.

Windows 11 preview: What’s in the latest build?

Dems put divides aside, rally behind Biden.

Need a good eat plan?

Feeling anxious? Declutter your overwhlem.

Nouns like these aren't just pompous. They're nauseating.

"Many of us dislike reading or hearing clusters of such nouns," says wordsmith Henry Hitchens.

"We associate them with legalese, bureaucracy, corporate jive, advertising or the more hollow kinds of academic prose. Writing packed with nominalizations is commonly regarded as slovenly, obfuscatory, pretentious or merely ugly."

Ugly is right.

So I ask—as your consultant—need a solve for this problem?

The next time you encounter a nouner, grab a hammer.

Day of Infamy

A malicious arson attack.

— Suzanne Scott

It seems the brutal War on Christmas came to Fox News this week when a vagrant torched the company's "All American" Christmas tree on New York's Avenue of the Americas.

Caught off guard, company executives immediately compared the incident to Pearl Harbor, even though police said the arsonist had no political motive.

In a memo to the staff, Fox News' CEO Suzanne Scott described the attack as "deliberate and brazen."

"This act of cowardice will not deter us," she said, promising a new All-American Christmas tree would be erected where the old one stood.

Within a day, one was.

At the relighting ceremony, on-air personality Jacques DeGraff told reporters, "These colors don't run," referring to the red, white and blue decorations.

Conflating Christmas with the 4th of July is classic Fox News.

But why network executives should get upset when a citizen then stages a fireworks show makes no sense.

On Top of the Hill

I feel a change comin' on
and the last part of the day's already gone.

— Bob Dylan 

Retirement guru Bob Lowry, whose wide-roaming blog I recommend, struggled this week to define "success in retirement."

Success before retirement is easy to define, he says. 

If you're an employer, success means you never need to shutter your business. 

If you're an employee, success means you never get fired.

Success after retirement, on the other hand, is much harder to define; so much harder, Lowry can't do it.

"The whole idea of success in retirement is so singular that I can't offer my opinions or thoughts on the subject," he says.

Lowry offers instead the well-known poem "What is Success?" as a working definition.

I'm less reticent to offer an opinion. 

I think success in retirement means, like a pippin rose, you just keep blooming.

Psychoanalyst Erik Erikson, who studied personality growth in the 1950s, described retirement as the eighth and final stage of an individual's development, the stage of "ego integrity."

According to Erikson, in retirement, the healthy person, because he has "adapted himself to the triumphs and disappointments of being," blossoms in the fruit of experience.

As he mulls over his life—a compulsion at this stage of ego development—the healthy person enters into "comradeship with the ordering ways of distant times."

The healthy person comes to realize that, when all is said and done, he lived his life with dignity; served humanity in some small way; and did so to the very best of his abilities.

He realizes "it was okay to have been me."

The healthy person, moreover, accepts that he's near the end of life, and, satisfied with past contributions, seeks out ways to make new ones while he still has time, further increasing his satisfaction with life.

The healthy retired person, Erikson says, isn't over the hill, but on top of it.

How about you? Feel a change comin' on?

City of Brotherly Love

 

I'm glad I'm living in the land of the free, where the rich just get richer and the poor you don't ever have to see.

— Randy Newman

Two worlds were on view outside the Pennsylvania Convention Center, host this week to Expo Expo, the tradeshow for tradeshow organizers.

One was the world of wealth and conspicuous consumption; the other, the world of poverty and homelessness.

Perhaps because we're aware of the coming holidays—an occasion to reflect on good fortune—more than one attendee mentioned to me that they found Philadelphia's efforts to hide the homeless from visitors' view wanting.

The homeless hovered in doorways and alleys around the convention center, and the streets were squalid, littered with their debris.

Meantime, the caviar and cocktails flowed at the Jean-Georges SkyHigh, atop the nearby Four Seasons Hotel.

This kind of dichotomous display isn't what you'd expect in the US, where we're adept at hiding poverty from visitors' view. In the Philippines, yes. In Indonesia, yes. In the US, no. 

But Philadelphia has bigger problems to worry about.

Visitors' discomfort be damned.