Bump The Lamp With A Drabble Dabble

The Word Collector — Part 52

This is the latest in a series about new words and phrases, specimens collected during expeditions into the deepest, darkest literary and media wilderness, and displayed for your entertainment, elucidation, and enlightenment. These are new to me, but of course, you may know some or all of them already, in which case you are welcome to marvel at my ignorance, an inexhaustible seam of material to be mined. As a challenge, see how many you already know!

drabble — this word turned up in an article as linked below, and after reading it you may want to dabble with a drabble yourself. You may have already heard of it, but it was a new one for me. It refers to a piece of exactly 100 words, no more, no less. It is intended to test an author’s ability to write concisely, and seems to have originated as a genre with science fiction fandom writing in the 1980s:

https://readmedium.com/earning-the-editors-ire-cbe2faf23283?

“To bump the lamp” — I came across this unusual expression in the article below, so I was intrigued about its origin, which Mark Winsor outlines in this article:

As for the meaning of “to bump the lamp”, the following is from the “Urban Dictionary”:

“To go above and beyond expectations when completing a given task/project. A genericised phrase originally used within the animation industry and the film industry as a whole. Based on a scene from the 1988 mixed live-action/animated film ‘Who Framed Roger Rabbit’ in which the main live-action character, Eddie Valiant, bumps into a ceiling lamp whilst handcuffed to the main animated character, Roger Rabbit, causing the lamp to continually swing back and forth throughout the remainder of the scene. The term refers to how the animators went on to meticulously hand-draw unique shadows for the animated character for every frame of the scene. The phrase went on to become a company mythos for the Walt Disney Company, then as a guiding principle within the greater film industry, and now sees use generally.”

Fissiparous — an adjective meaning inclined to cause or undergo division into separate parts or groups, as in for example the phrase “the fissiparous tendencies innate in tribalism”. The word cropped up in an “Observer” article, and is one of those that I used to know but had to look up again, one of the perils of growing older!

Audentes fortuna iuvat!- this Latin phrase was used in a comment by Rui Alves, and translates as “fortune favours the brave”.

Aperçu is a French word that means a quick impression or insight, or a brief digest or survey. It can also be spelt as apercu in British English if you are feeling lazy about using the cedilla under the “c”. The word was seen in a book review in “The Observer”.

“Medice, cura te ipsum!” — the phrase was used in a comment by Latin scholar Rui Alves, and means literally “physician, heal thyself”. The essential meaning is the advice to attend to our own defects before presuming to advise others about theirs!

Trifecta — this is a noun meaning a bet in which the person betting forecasts the first three finishers in a race in the correct order; or a run of three wins or grand events. The word is used in this article about who to trust in the age of deep fakes and AI and asks an important question about whether democracy can survive the impact of social media:

l’arbre de Cracovie –an interesting historical reference from the same article linked above and from Wikipedia:

“If you wanted to find out what was happening in the world in Paris in 1750, you went to l’arbre de Cracovie, or “the Kraków tree”. This chestnut tree was called that not because it had any particular connection to the Polish city, but because the slang term at the time for “fake news” was craques, and the space beneath its branches was full of it. And yet the tree didn’t just draw gossips who would claim to know what was really going on in the corridors of power because they had eavesdropped on a conversation or glimpsed a private letter. It also drew the attention of the government, which wanted to know what Parisians were thinking, as well as foreign powers, who sent agents there to gather information — or to plant it.”

dyscalculia — this is a condition similar to dyslexia but with numbers. The word was seen in the book “Putin’s Prisoner” by Aiden Aslen with John Sweeney, which tells the extraordinary story of a Brit fighting with the Ukrainian army who was taken prisoner at Mauriopol. Spoiler alert: he was not treated well.

HNWI — this acronym stands for high net worth individual and is used in this article by James Bellerjeau about becoming wealthy, not something users of Medium need to be troubled by -

Inebriated with our own verbosity — Did you know that there are no fewer than 546 words or phrases in English for being drunk, perhaps a reflection of the nation’s drinking habits?!:

“infectious generosity” — I was struck by this expression in a BBC Radio 4 show. The phrase is also the title of a book by Chris Anderson who was being interviewed. He started the now well-established and respected “TED” (Technology, Entertainment, Design) talks.

Tokamak — ˈthis is a toroidal apparatus for producing controlled fusion reactions in hot plasma. The word appears in this article by Will Lockett, about how AI has solved one problem that was holding back the commercial and practical viability of nuclear fusion, which may be defined as a scientific venture which is always ten years away from whatever the current date is :

“Going monk mode” — this expression turned up in an article referring to the practice of cutting oneself off from the electronic and digital world, and social media in particular:

bup kis — absolutely nothing or zilch. The word comes from the Yiddish bobkes, meaning nonsense or nothing, and it emerged in English during the early 20th century. It began as North American slang, but it’s now used more broadly, often for humorous effect, as in this article by Robin Wilding 💎:

Panko –in Japanese cooking, these are breadcrumbs with a light, flaky texture, typically used as a coating for fried or baked food. The word was heard in a question on the BBC show “University Challenge”, which I watch in the hope of improving myself, but it is not working yet.

Kenning — a figure of speech, typically from Old English or Norse poetry, in which two words are combined to form a poetic expression that refers to a person or a thing. It was also heard in a question on the BBC show “University Challenge”, or universally challenged in my case.

Pastel de nata — It seems Brits have fallen in love with Portuguese custard tarts, as this article explains. Why? A bit of a mystery, but there is no denying their appeal, now seen everywhere from Costa Coffee to Stroud market:

I hope you enjoyed this collection, and do share any favourites of your own in the comments.

As always, thank you for reading.

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Previous articles from The Word Collector:

Part 51 — Blitzscaling Rishession

Part 50 –A Gallimaufry of Particitrousers

Part 49 — Kvetching, habit stacking, and loud budgeting

Part 48: Flex Your Rizz Bruv

Part 47: Bikeshedding Navvy Gravvy

Part 46: Astraphobic Badonkadonk

Part 45: Ergophobic Humdudgeon

Part 44 — Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobic Longiloquence

Part 43 — Stravaiging Shiznit

Part 42 — Model Collapse And Dezinformatsiya

Part 41 — A Flapdoodle of rapid unscheduled disassembly

Part 40 — Mulesing, Merkins, Quislings, Tallywags And Refoulment

Part 39 — Blowing off the hinky cobwebs

Part 38 — A Dreich Case Of Psychoterratic Solastalgia

Part 37 — A Cockamamie Collection Of Highkey Zhuzh

Part 36 — Keggers, Kerning, Çay and Crickets

Part 35 — Murmuring judges and anhedonia

Part 34 — A-quomodocunquizing-borborygmus

Part 33 — Going Monk Mode In Taumata­whakatangihanga­koauau­o­tamatea­turi­pukaka­piki­maunga­horo­nuku­pokai­whenua­ki­tana­tahu

Part 32 — Turpitudinous Tourons

Part 31 — Hurkle durkle, medicanes and misophonia

Part 30 — Immortal earworms

Part 29 — Government on the RAAC

Part 28 –Saved by a deus ex machina

Part 27 — Pre-Lapsarian Yakers

Part 26 — Fegans, Jorts, Rababs And Scotch Bonnets

Part 25 — Fissiparous Hegemony

Part 24 — Lollygag And Booktok

Part 23 — Patronymics And Samovars

Part 22 — Medium Is No Chronofage If YRMIRY

Part 21 — Everything Is Eellogofusciouhipoppokunurious

Part 20 — Hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia And The Matthew Effect

Part 19 — A Nappuccino And Some Typo-Squatting

Part 18 — Yeeting Detritovres

Part 17 — An Inverted Pyramid Of Piffle On The Bed Of Procrustes

Part 16 — Having The Jones And Partisan Acrimony

Part 15 — Spycops In The Boondocks

Part 14 — Harlots, Stochastic Parrots, And The Devil’s Cufflinks

Part 13 — The Things We Make Exceptional

Part 12 — “Semper Fidelis” And Semantic Symbiosis

Part 11 — Heliophobic Hikikomori

Part 10 — Lenticular Clouds And Peque Peques

Part 9 — Big Red Boots And Nepo Babies

Part 8 — A Patina Of Smilies

Part 7 — Atavistic frou frou

Part 6-Mouth Breathers And Pearl Clutchers

Part 5 — The Lexophile’s Latest List

Part 4 — Revenge of the word collector

Part 3- An Etymological Extravaganza

Part 2- Return Of The Word Collector

Part 1 — A Moment In The Sun