Since Christmas is next week (Thursday), there's a ton of holiday stuff to do this weekend — everything from plays and other onstage events to train displays and elves doing things.Onstage:
October is synonymous with Halloween, haunted houses, harvest festivals and more-sexy-than-scary costume balls. Whether you plan on being a slutty nurse, a moody John Snow, your basic zombie or Dracula, the Tristate offers more than enough events for you to get your freaky on all haunting season.BAR EVENTS
It's the weekend, y'all.
And as it approaches 5 p.m. on a Friday, you're probably thinking to yourself, "What should I do this weekend?" Why not try one of these …
- Sauerkraut Pizza. Made by the Order of the Eastern Star Masons, the handmade pizzas come in whole pies or slices and are topped with tomato sauce, cheese, green peppers, onions and sauerkraut.
- Cabbage Rolls. For more than 30 years, St. Augustine's Church has cooked cabbage rolls for the festival — recently, more than 10,000 per weekend. Cooked cabbage leaves are filled with ground beef, rice and spices and covered in tomato sauce.
- Sauerkraut desserts. The Waynesville Chamber of Commerce will be serving up sauerkraut pie, sauerkraut fudge, sauerkraut brownies and sauerkraut cookies.
- Sauerkraut Balls. A classic: breaded and fried sauerkraut and bacon, served by the Waynesville fire department.
- German Sundae. This is a pile of potatoes, topped with kraut, sour cream, cheese, bacon and green olive. (Recipe below.)
going back to the land of Muncie, Indiana, where we don’t have cool stuff like
altweeklies or rideshare competition, which you can read about in this week’s cover
story. We have to like, walk home from a night out like the plebeian college
students Nick ran into, because who can pay someone $24 to drive them home?
That’s more money than I’m going to lose if I get jumped while walking.
Anyway, I wish the future copy of CityBeat the best of luck until there’s a new copy editor and from now on, you’ll have to rely on context clues to decipher CityBeat writers' language.
Acrimonious: caustic, stinging or bitter, adj.
If something is acrimonious, I bet it sounds like a really bad song. It’s like harmonious, but acidic. Except, not at all.
In the issue: “Hurricane Katrina forced a lengthy stay in Austin, Texas in 2005 and the following year saw the acrimonious departure of Huston,” in Brian Baker’s Sound Advice on The Iguanas. Maybe Huston just wished they had stayed in Houston instead of Austin and that’s why he left. Sounds sad. Looks like the rest of the band is still doing alright without him, playing shows and selling albums and whatnot.
Mandala: a schematized representation of the cosmos in Oriental art, n.
In my head I pictured this as a mandolin, a menorah and gondola all combined, but that’s just me. This is the first word in today’s blog under the category of Nouns You May Not Have Known and Will Never Use.
In the issue “The first and last paintings in Elvis Suite are more like multi-bordered mandalas or horoscopic charts,” in Steven Rosen’s Art Shook Up (what a clever title) about the Elvis Presley portrait exhibit currently at the Carl Solway gallery. Yes, if you haven’t read the article yet, that’s right. There’s a series of calendar art focusing on Elvis of which the first and last pieces are schematized representations of the cosmos because that has so much to do with Elvis.
Morass: a troublesome situation difficult to get out of, n.; and "maelstrom": a disordered state of affairs, n.
These words go great together. Next time you’re really upset just run around and be like “This is a maelstrom and a morass!”
In the issue: “Maybe, in all the morass and maelstrom of confusion, violence and power play …” in Kathy Y. Wilson’s column, "Elevators," where she talked about domestic violence and briefly mentioned that elevators serve as a catalyst for it before talking about more serious things than elevators.
Tulpa: a being that is created in the imagination through visualization techniques such as in Tibetan mysticism, n.This is the second and final word of the day under Nouns You May Not Have Known and Will Never Use.
In the Issue: Again in "Art Shook Up," Laffoley, the artist, said he wants to “take calendar art and turn it into a meditation series in which the fans attempt to recreate Elvis’ existence as a tulpa.” You read that right. That went from calendar art to mysticism real fast.
take back what I said earlier. You may use this word again. You may in fact use
it if you take Laffoley’s advice and see these images of Elvis, he will become a
choose-your-own-tulpa-Elvis: Will you pick the Christmas Album Elvis or the Aloha
From Hawaii Elvis?
Strangely enough, all of the regular content eye-catching words start with the letter “P.”
paucity: smallness of quantity, n.
reporters note that rockets fired from Gaza are aimed at Israeli civilians,
although they note the comparative paucity of Israeli victims,” in Ben L.
Kaufman’s Curmudgeon Notes. Yet again, another week of worthy comments on the
shortcomings of journalistic coverage. His comments on the reporting of the
Israeli-Palestinian conflict are important albeit hard to understand.
portend: to foreshadow, v. (used with an object)
“What does this all portend for the live presence of Clap Your Hands Say Yeah?” in Brian Baker’s Sound Advice for the CYHSY show. Actually, that’s a great question, considering the band used to have four members and at least three of them have left the group since 2011. I’m curious how this resolves itself on Fountain Square this Friday night.
prescient: to have knowledge of something before it exists, adj.
example of how prescient the Alvins believe Broonzy to have been …” in Steven
Rosen’s Bond of Brothers, describing the relationship two really old guys have
with a record done by an even older guy that they listened to in their
Worst Politicians Vocabulary
apprised: to inform or tell someone, v.
“Dayton explained he had been credibly, confidently apprised that the Capitol itself would be shortly laid waste by terrorists,” in Neal Karlen’s description of Minnesota Governor Mark Dayton. Who apprised him of that?
Also, who knew that someone who gave his own tenure in the Senate an “F” could be elected governor on a pity vote? I didn’t know it was so easy but then again, I don’t have $4 million to finance my own campaign.
moribund: in a dying state, near death, adj.
“A defrocked demagogue, she still pretends her Tea Party is a reactionary revolution, not a moribund refuge for the Republicans’ traditional bloc of bat-shit crazy far-right-wingers,” in Karlen’s bit on Minnesota U.S. Representative Michele Bachmann.
I hope Karlen’s use of moribund in relation to the Tea Party is accurate, but considering Bachmann’s talk of another presidential run in 2016, it may be wishful thinking. Karlen (if you ever read this), brace yourself because I’m sure you’ll have to cover that.
Shout-out to Karlen, by the way, for using one of my personal favorite phrases, “bat-shit crazy.” I keep trying to convince my mother it’s a thing because obviously, it’s a thing.
opprobrium: harsh criticism or censure, n.
“… Jan Brewer affixed her signature to the infamous, immigrant-bashing Senate Bill 1070 and rode a wave of xenophobia to electoral triumph… and liberal opprobrium,” in Stephen Lemons description of Arizona Governor Jan Brewer. It wasn’t just “liberal opprobrium,” considering the U.S. Supreme Court threw out a lot of the law as unconstitutional. Take that, Jan Brewer.
When I was learning how to insert the photos, our design editor specifically said, “Use the photo where she’s laughing like the devil.”
troglodyte: a prehistoric cave-dweller, a person of degraded character or a person unacquainted with affairs of the world, n.
“DeMint backed Todd ‘Legitimate Rape’ Akin, Richard ‘God Wants Rape Babies’ Mourdock and a host of other troglodyte true-believers,” in Chris Haire’s bit on South Carolina former U.S. Senator Jim DeMint. Troglodyte is the word of the week, hands down. Pick whatever definition you want, they all apply. Props to Haire for his ability to find the perfect word for such people. DeMint was one of my personal favorites on the list, for his views that gays and unwed heterosexual women having sex shouldn’t be allowed to teach in public schools. I’d love to hear his plans for unwed heterosexual men and how he would like to enforce these ideas.
state schools in Indiana (or at least Ball State) start school really early
(like August 18) so I’m heading back to Muncie and you lovely people only have
one more week until you probably won’t notice the fabulous words in CityBeat
anymore. Please return next week for my going away Fiesta Edition. I just made
Maybe the summer heat is stifling the writers’ vocab, (or they were out having too much fun this weekend at Bunbury) but there weren’t very many vocab words this week. That being said, that’s no excuse to let your vocabulary get stagnant, we’ll go with what we have …
requisite: a thing necessary for the achievement of a specific end, n.
My college education hasn’t thus far outright taught me this word, but now I see I knew it all along. I know perfectly well “prerequisite” means “course you need to take before you take you’re smart enough to take the one you really want.” So a requisite is also something that is necessary. It seems that requisite and prerequisite are synonyms (so Google tells me), why are they both needed?
In the issue: “Don’t forget the requisite potato pancake on the side,” referring to Rascals’ NY Deli in the Doggie Day in Amberley Village picnic option. I agree, potato products are a requisite for happiness — a good picnic, I mean. Is it lunchtime yet?
sycophantic: using flattery to win favor from those with influence, adj.
Without reading the definition, finish this sentence: If a journalist can be described as sycophantic, that journalist is also … ? Got nothing? Me either. Let’s get straight to the context clues.
In the paper: “Part of the problem, Sullivan said, is the failure of sycophantic Times writers and editors to ‘challenge and vet the views of these government sources,’ ” in this week’s edition of Ben L. Kaufman’s Curmudgeon Notes. In the past three weeks, we’ve heard about mislabeled sources, shield laws and jingoistic editorials — anybody else miss Worst Week Ever?
Bonus Round: The bonus round is just as long as the regular round, folks.
nascent: a process or organization coming into existence and displaying signs of future potential, adj. Like when you read blog the first week you thought, “the nascent copy editing blog.” Scavenger Hunt! Maybe I’m crazy but I can’t seem to find this word in the issue …
Exclusive cultural lesson for the week!
So there’s a movie out now called And So It Goes, with Michael Douglas and Diane Keaton. TT-stern-enzi (in a preview that was cut for space) described Keaton’s role in the film world right now as the woman that gets the lothario male character to settle down a la As Good As It Gets with Jack Nicholson. I’m not a movie previewer but maybe the preview will get posted online today (I don’t know, I’m not the web editor or anything).
So Lothario is the name of the male character in The Impertinent Curiosity, a metastory in Don Quixote. Lothario is a seducer of woman, giving his name use as a noun meaning, “a man who behaves selfishly and irresponsibly in his sexual relationships with women.”