Neologisms

Writers like words, and speculative fiction writers in particular
like to make them up.

― Zara Poghosyan

Children of the '60s will be happy to learn The Historical Dictionary of Science Fiction, published this week, includes the word grok.

   

Grok—meaning "to perceive or understand fully"—was coined by sci-fi novelist Robert A. Heinlein. His Hugo-winning Stranger in a Strange Land was a staple among readers in the '60s—even among those who, like me, didn't much care for science fiction. 

Along with The Catcher in the Rye, To Kill a Mockingbird and Catch-22, the Library of Congress has named Stranger in a Strange Land one of the "Books That Shaped America."

The novel recounts the adventures of Valentine Michael Smith, a super-cool Martian who can't comprehend why Earthlings act so desperately. 

Despite enjoying a psychic's abilities, Smith is a naïf—no match for the cunning creatures he meets during his brief visit to Earth. 

But Smith does manage to leave one lesson behind: he teaches Earthlings to grok, to know and love all beings, the way God does. Literally (in Martian) to "drink in" all creatures great and small.

Sci-fi writers like Heinlein seem gifted in their ability to mint neologisms. 

And while not all sci-fi writers' verbal concoctions come into vogue, plenty do.

Among the latter are these gems—all coined by sci-fi novelists, playwrights and screenwriters, and all in common use today: outer space, deep space, cyberspace, hyperspace, warp speed, zero gravity, blastoff, spacesuit, time machine, scanner, transporter, ray gun, robot, genetic engineer, alien, extraterrestrial, replicant, computer virus, computer worm, fanzine, flash mob, unperson, thought police, Big Brother and Frankenstein.

One Man's Trash

 

"The best ideas come as jokes," Mad Man David Ogilvy said. 

Better than most, Ogilvy understood humor's power in advertising.

So I wonder what he'd think of the postcard that arrived in our mailbox yesterday.

I've worked for and with a lot of creative directors and can't imagine a single one allowing this garbage to be seen by the client, much less the public.

But, hey, the proof's in the pudding. 

Maybe the response to this masterpiece will set records.

In that spirit, I offer the advertiser, EG, my tagline:

Because chocolate just goes to her hips

Serial Killer

There is no comma between the penultimate item in a list and "and"/"or," unless required to prevent ambiguity.

— Oxford University Style Guide

The serial comma—also known as the Oxford comma—is the comma often needed before the conjunction at the end of a list.

When you omit the serial comma—as Rudy has—you kill the meaning of your statement.

You might argue Rudy saved a stroke. 

But he induced a stroke among his followers, by pitting the party of Reagan, Trump and the traitors (whoever they are) against that of Lincoln.

A single comma would have been the life-saver.

While Rudy's sin of omission is exquisite, my all-time favorite remains this book-dedication by a fellow right-winger:

This book is dedicated to my parents, Ayn Rand and God.

Although you might think so, the book's author wasn't Mike Lindell. 

The author merely shared similar parentage.

Be Careful Who You Cancel

You are a den of vipers and thieves.

— Andrew Jackson

My high-school history teacher, Mr. Gray, dwelled for more than a month on the battle over banking between Jefferson and Hamilton. His point was to prove our nation was built on greed.

So I was troubled to learn yesterday that Joe Biden will rush to replace Andrew Jackson's portrait on the $20 bill with that of Harriett Tubman.

Don't misunderstand me: Tubman is one of our country's noblest heroes. Tribute to her is long overdue. But Tubman's portrait should replace Hamilton's on the $10 bill, not Jackson's on the $20.

If Tubman cancels anyone, it should be Hamilton.

Hamilton, after all, put us on the path to concentrating wealth and power in the hands of a few. As the architect of our "rigged" banking system, Hamilton is the father of the 1%.

Jackson, on the other hand, went to the mat to take Hamilton's plutocratic system apart, calling its advocates "vipers and thieves." 

The champion of the little guy, Jackson was in fact so hostile toward the rigged system, Congress censured him in 1834 and eventually reinstated Hamilton's bank.

In my view, Jackson, friend of the forgotten, doesn't deserve to be removed from our money; Hamilton does.

If you don't think he was sleazy, consider just one of Hamilton's maneuvers.

In 1789, he helped spread the lie that the Treasury would default on the $44 million in war bonds held by veterans of the American Revolution. 

At the same time, Hamilton advised his rich cronies to follow his lead and scoop up the "worthless" paper for pennies on the dollar. 

Once he and his cronies owned all the bonds, Hamilton ordered the Treasury to pay off them in full. 

Cha-ching 1%! Cha-ching.

The Cure

The United States was founded by the brightest people in the country—and we haven't seen them since.

— Gore Vidal

History—and Americans' ignorance thereof—keeps coming up in post-January 6 discussions. For good reason. Research by the American Council of Trustees and Alumni finds Americans know little about the subject. To wit:

• 33% of adult Americans do not know when the American Revolution took place
  
  
• 50% believe the Civil War occurred before the Revolution
  
  
• 78% cannot name the source of the phrase “government of the people, by the people, for the people”
  
  
• 80% cannot describe the effect of the Emancipation Proclamation
  
  
• 71% do not know what the Reconstruction was
  
  
• 33% do not know FDR introduced the New Deal
  
  
• 58% do not know when the Battle of the Bulge took place
  
  
• 41% cannot identify the name Auschwitz
  
  
• 29% do not know the title of the national anthem

"The knowledge of all American history has become a wasteland," the researchers said. "The reason is that we are no longer teaching it."

Ordinarily I complain about society's problems, without offering solutions; but today you're in for a treat. I know the way to restore our national knowledge deficit, and it isn't some billon-dollar program. Teachers merely have to assign their students the seven novels composing Gore Vidal's "Empire Chronicles."

Vidal liked to call our country, aptly, the "United States of Amnesia." We can cure that disease for only $25 per person—the cost of a farting Donald Trump doll. Call it the $25 cure for amnesia.

The novels composing Vidal's series are Burr, Lincoln, 1876, Empire, Hollywood, Washington, D.C. and The Golden Age. 

I've read each one more more than once and would best describe the novels as suspenseful, tapestry-like, and deliciously lurid.

• Burr recounts the life of the roguish Aaron Burr as he's caught up in the struggle between the power-hungry planter Thomas Jefferson and the craven financier Alexander Hamilton.

• Lincoln follows our greatest president through his entire time in the White House as he battles ruthlessly to preserve the Union and curtail the damage wrought by a crazy wife.

• 1876 recounts "America's worst year," when the winner of the popular vote in the presidential election—Democrat Samuel Tilden—loses the presidency to Republican Rutherford B. Hayes.

• Empire takes you through the era of the egomaniacal expansionists William Randolph Hearst and Teddy Roosevelt.

• Hollywood provides a behind-the-scenes look at Woodrow Wilson's time in office, with walk-on appearances by Charlie Chaplin, James Fairbanks, Mary Pickford and Fatty Arbuckle.

• Washington, D.C. portrays real-world politics during the Great Depression and World War II through the eyes of a political family not unlike the novelist's own.

• The Golden Age delves even deeper into the era, providing an inside look at the political machinations of FDR and the dawning of the Cold War.

Should you doubt the importance of my inexpensive cure for amnesia—and many of the nation's other ills—consider the words of JFK:

“There is little that is more important for an American citizen to know than the history and traditions of his country. Without such knowledge, he stands uncertain and defenseless before the world."