Morse Code Mnemonic

January 2, 2012


Parting Words

August 22, 2011
[Words behind an asterisk do not belong to this lexicon, strictly speaking.]

Speech of praise given by a company, directed toward itself, in a commercial break

A situation that, due to one getting charged up, spoils a positive setting

Pharmacist who at any given time has a packet of medical marijuana on him

Settling of a sharing dispute by allotting each party a measure chosen at random

The quality of working your buttocks off. Not one, but both of them

A mixer of drinks who switches off the pub television when the Simpsons show comes on

caprice [economics]
Unpredictability in the MRP of staple grains

castrate [as quoted in The Directors’ Manual]
To emasculate a film production company by making a movie with actors demanding astronomical pays

Ecological disaster that ensues by killing large numbers of lions, leopards, &c. in view of turning them into prized possessions

centrally [politics]
With the national government, a policy citizens oppose by gathering in multitudes and contributing copper pennies toward the cause

A variety of cigars threatening to overtake its native counterpart in Cuba. They gained in popularity when Castro revealed that Guevara approved of them.

(1) To restrict a prisoner’s movements, causing him or her psychological difficulties
(2) To hold back an optimistic plan by rattling off a long list of demerits in it
(3) To confine to one’s residence all day on account of a ceaseless thunderstorm

Scheme to get back at a feudal aristocrat by sabotaging his expensive fur

Reduction to a primitive or savage state

Reduction to complete depravity. Considered ten times malicious as decivilization

Reflected carefully as to the surprise ingredient in the sandwich your impatient customer ordered after directing unflattering remarks towards you

The chemicals that make men loathe to do the laundry

Literally, to speak out against a cat that never leaves its abode. A political metaphor used to protest against a government’s refusal to trade.

Find that the music stopped a while back

Supernatural. Doubly creepy.

Never attending lectures but erupting like a volcano in the exam to end up topping the class on account of having untiringly toiled like a colony insect in the confines of one’s hostel room

enterprising [sales and marketing]
Marked by the willingness to embark on imaginative ways of opening one’s customers’ wallets up by force

A cattle beast that’s a cross between a horse and a bovine, which slaves 12 hours a day with its eyes open and 12 hours closed

Outrageously offensive in the way a speech of excessive emotion delivered at Independence/Republic Day meetings is

In a courtly, established manner, aimed to make comrades

A tendon that amateur radio operators often injure by making a quick dash to their transceivers when they beep

Causing deep anguish by making one come to know of current societal tendencies

Characterized by an abundance not easily duplicated

The problems of dealing with children who are at once mischievous and moronic, for which no known solutions exist

Incapable, as construed from a species of astrology involving pushing Scrabble letters around, of issue

An opportunity to exercise the noble deed of uttering what your listener wishes to hear and burying your own opinion

That which cannot be taught in tuition [courtesy: YSP]

Brief in speech, as practised by certain habitants of an otherwise talkative Paris. Such as mentioned are said to be afflicted with eccentricity

The non-definition printed in self-respecting dictionaries owing to plainness of meaning

The murder of several people after putting them all within certain sq. yards of land

He that claims inability to set right his life to defend his beggary

methought [archaic, humourous]
‘It struck me that’
Eg.: Methought an amphetamine should do the trick.

(1) [of a person] Catching one’s attention for complete want of aptitude
(2) [of a room] Catching one’s attention for complete want of furniture

An unexpected Ashes victory by England. The English claim no surprise on an overturn because the container of the original ashes displays, indisputably, the names of only their cricketers.

overlooking [as defined for gentlemen]
Glancing down upon the tile patterns, as an emperor upon his courtiers, while seated on the commode

peeking [as defined for gentlemen]
Glancing down upon the tile patterns, as an emperor upon his courtiers, while not seated on the commode

Making a fruitful search on the Internet in order to go to the depths of some matter

A rough draft of The Raven

To make a second coming as a fruit does upon being plucked

Bring an overfunctioning extraction plant to its original efficiency by pausing the mining process

Adamant about leaving a wikipedia article short after creating it

All sorts of clothes on a line

In a playfully mocking manner
Eg.: To drive home the atrocity of his prices, the three of us teasingly ordered just one glass of beverage from Nair

Momentary as the reading in a thermometer taken out of your mouth

Describing the three or less casual relationships a person is allowed to have prior to marriage without seriously damaging it

Pertaining to something you would not like to happen to your child

Relating to the destructivity of the Indian top order, a quality it owes to its opener

Collective name for the sounds a lover of the past makes as he enters a WWII museum

An aircraft that, by virtue of flying faster than Superman, causes his girlfriend to lose interest in him

To remove the underperformers from a side in pursuit of an immediate turnover of fortunes



Domain boundaries

Ill-humoured tigers


German sermon

His other guide


August 15, 2011
Snap = Jolt

F/2 = E/2 => F = E

Dealing With Me

May 27, 2011
Inside your idle brain, come shine or come rain,
All work and no play all night and all day
Not even half a moment of sleep, you see!
Look for me in the details (or check in the fai retails)
When you’re loathe to decide — I’ll then come stand beside
Whilst over your shoulder looms the deep blue sea

To your petty conceit placate I’ll send my advocate
He’d gladly plead your cases with one of many faces
Of which he has thirty-six, like a pair o’ dice
If you are lonely and laust, remember Comrade Faust —
You only need to sign on the dashed dotted line
And I give you on this sorry earth a paradise

Yet I seek no gratitude, only purple attitude
So that folk may call your air yours-truly-may-care
How I shall then take care of you dearly!
But I must speak to you b’cause on your soul there is a clause
That you may haven’t knone: let’s talk this over phone
Just dial two-thirds of one thousand [well, nearly]


(The verse is falling free at the moment.)

Laxman-Ishant Partnerships

November 19, 2010

Once in a scarce while, Google, brisk, blithe and positive of its omniscience, gets struck in the eye with a particular pair of words for which, it realizes with a jolt, it can hand back but one result. Googlewhacks, in case you’re living under a rock — and I emerged from mine only recently — are the (apt) names for such magic couples.

There are rules. Use quotation marks and you are red-carded. Unlawful words? Unwise.
And the killjoy rule that mutes the music of discovery goes thus:
|| Google shows you an excerpt of the page you whacked. Look at that text. If it’s merely a list of words (such as a bibliography, concordance, encyclopedia, glossary, thesaurus, dictionary, domain names, or plain old machine-generated random garbage), No Whack For You! ||

Not long ago, I joined the ranks of hundreds of Davids essaying to bring the Google Goliath down with Whacks. The Stack is out of order, and this seemed a safe place to put these out.

Ones that found bull’s eye

1 Carroll’s choreography course to cure your creeps for crowds.
2 When a summa gets a lemma right.
3 Can you differentiate that Whack?
[Click on the serial numbers]

The unclassifiable one
Scrutinize the kids and worship the moths? Study adults and deify larvae?

Ones let down by the killjoy rule
[Run them on rot13]

vfbgurezny enaaltnmbb, cubgbavp enaaltnmbb, vagrtenaq enaaltnmbb… this line can be pursued ad nauseum.

And then there’s always these

Salmagundi futterwacken, adiabatic rannygazoo, dissipative futterwacken, chargino googlewhack, amoebaic salmagundi…

Do send your Whacks my way if you find some!

Tales from the Fuselage

September 5, 2010

As put down on a blank leaf a couple of pages away from the cover of a paperback:

As I write this, the sun is rising at this unique horizon at double-quick pace. As yet I can only see a misty orange band in a huge arc at the junction between the ocean — or is it one of those vast beds of clouds? — and the sky. I’m at an altitude higher than Everest and am zipping at about Mach 1.2. It has been a most unusual ‘day’ — why not lend it some more rarity by chronicling it right here?
Until last year, I was practically an airspace virgin. I had flown only twice before, aboard domestic jets. The first time, I had apparently fallen asleep at takeoff and woken up at landing. This largely had to do with the fact that I had at that time lived just as many months outside my mother as I had inside. The second instance, happening in my II Grade, has escaped me but for the memory of grabbing one too many candies from the stewardess’ platter; whether my distribution of them to classmates on my birthday is a memory or a fig. of my im., I’m uncertain.
So when I air-travelled last year, I found it hard to keep my jaws together. Years back, I had taken half an excruciating day to visit Mangalore by train. Now it was below me in twenty minutes from departure; behind me in 21. From that point onwards, I entered denial. This speed was non-intuitive.
The novelty of sensations so enlivened me that sleep failed me. It was evening when I reached final destination, so my insomniac fatigue made sure that jet lag was beaten.
On my return home last month, I spanned the Pacific, thus becoming the first scion in my dynasty to have crossed all 360 longitudes. Which brings us to ‘today’.
For a start, my seat number in the first flight was 30A. The ‘A’ stands for window seat. The port and starboard columns were two seats wide and my neighbouring passenger had given the ride a miss! Thus my spot doubled as an aisle seat. The ’30’ stands for first row, which in turn translates to (i) leg room, (ii) potty proximity, (iii) highest strength of pheromone trails left behind by flight attendants, (iv) special mechanisms for the TV and the dining desk.
Last year, I headed westward. This time, my ‘orient’ation is opposite. I’m essentially retracing the path I took home. The first aircraft (dest.: Hong Kong) became airborne at 04.00 a.m. If you define ‘dayline’ as in the picture, my plane and the dayline were cruising for a headlong collision. I fought back sleep and waited to witness this rare glory, and was handsomely rewarded.
My second plane (on which my stern rests this very moment) is a time machine. I embarked upon it at 02.00 p.m. on Sep. 04, I will touch terminus at 11.00 a.m. on Sep. 04. This leg of the voyage turned out to be much more spectacular than I had imagined.
I slid the window down to cut out the sunlight and slipped into slumber. When I rose an hour later and reopened it, I was totally taken aback. It was pitch dark outside. I had simply unaccounted for the fact that in an aeroplane flying east, particularly when the geodesical trajectory is more parallel than perp. to the equator, the durations of dark and light are halved. There was no way I could go across to the other edge of the Pacific without cutting through night. It was obvious once it happened. All these meant I met the dayline a second time in the journey, which is when I began to pen this. Now the window is a splash of divers degrees of blue and white.
36 hours would this day last, two sunrises and two sundowns would it include. An I.D.L. day — an ideal day.

Keep Typing, Monkeys!

April 27, 2010

20/20 Hindsight

April 23, 2010
In a move that was, like all things IPL, unexpected but not surprising, Lalit Modi has invited a poet to perform at the closing ceremony. The performance being, of course, a recital of his latest work, an ode exalting the league. The hitch: the bard is an American who never has seen a game of cricket. Away he ground at match bulletins, and out he churned this:

Like bowling pins on an ice-rink did wickets tumble

When the ball spun off the fingers of Kumble,
‘Twas like the fireworks on the Fourth of July
When the sixes flew off the willow of Ganguly,
One billion point one hearts were achin’,
Whenever to the pavilion walked Sachin!
Cricket to IPL is like movies to Cannes,
Unearthing Ojha, Marsh and Nannes!
O IPL, thou art , despite your auctions obscene,
A beauty pageant to men like Jayawardene,
A shot at glory, though the odds are bare,
To the likes of Jakati, Pandey and Tare,
An opportunity to play nefarious fungi
For second-rank cricketers like Tyagi,
Or E Coli,
For V Kohli
And the story of Hansel and Gratel
For Yuvi, Munaf and Parthiv Patel,
Lost as they were. And like Zimbabwe,
Never really in IPL was der Merwe!
A treat it was to at cheerleaders ogle,
As was listening to the outspoken Mr Bhogle,
As was listening to the outspoken Mr Bhogle

Forward March (the 14th)

March 14, 2010


Rectangular hyperbolic



Tangent hyperbolic

Daylight Savings Time starts today.

Twice Bitten

February 10, 2010

[Author’s note: The original is my favourite joke ever.]

Having lost his poetic touch, W. B. Yeats works at a corporate office. A popular tabloid, finding that his fame has survived, telephones him and wonders if he would be kind enough to participate in a photo-session for their pages. Thrilled, he writes to his manager asking for (i) a day off and (ii) permission to attend the picture-taking.
In response, the manager informs, ‘Both your requests need to be approved by a panda in the upper floor, specifically recruited for the purpose.’
‘What! Why?’, says W B.
‘Look it up’, replies the boss.
The former poet thumbs through the office catalogue to get wind of the job description of his mammalian colleague. Which reads thus:
“Panda: Yeats’ shoots and leaves.”

A robin glides into a café. She orders a sandwich, eats it, then starts telling a joke over and over again till everybody dies of boredom.
‘Why?’ asks the confused, surviving waiter, as the robin gets airborne exitward. She produces a badly punctuated ornithology manual and tosses it over her shoulder.
‘Well, I’m a robin’, she says, at the door. ‘Look it up.’
The waiter turns to the relevant entry in the manual and, sure enough, finds an explanation.
‘Robin: Many-coloured species of bird. Native to Europe and North America. Eats, bugs and flies.’