Per se

More often misused or misspelled?

This is prompted by my recent observation and acute shock at "per say."

Odysseus and the Crocodile Hunter

What do Steve Irwin and the legendary voyager have in common?

They were both fatally impaled upon a sting-ray barb. 

The September 2006 death of Steve Irwin was, perhaps, no less tragic than that of Odysseus, who according to the lost Telegony, perished at the hands of his son by the witch Circe, Telegonus. The battle between father and son, neither who recognized the other, culminated in Odysseus's death on the his son's spear point--a sting-ray barb.

That bit of Classical lore is, again, from M.L. West's Indo-European Poetry and Myth.

(cross-posted at De Grypis)

Did you know...

1) That thousands of years ago the plains of the United States looked much like those of Africa, inhabited by the likes of lions and elephants?

2) And that the British Royal family traces its lineage back, ultimately, to Odin?

You would if you were reading 1) Jared Diamond's Guns, Germs and Steel and 2) M.L. West's Indo-European Poetry and Myth.

WoW!

An FCC commissioner has stated that video-game addiction is a "leading cause" of college drop-outs:

You might find it alarming that one of the top reasons for college drop-outs in the U.S. is online gaming addiction - such as World of Warcraft - which is played by 11 million individuals worldwide.

Hat tip to Chris Blattman. This assertion is apparently uncorroborated by any available statistical measure, and the term "video-game addiction" rather problematic. Nevertheless, I can testify to the exacting toll online gaming can take on one's personal life. It is easy to let little things--social behavior, grooming habits--go by the wayside when there are orcs and/or trolls to slay. But dropping out? It strikes me as quite possible, but inordinately stupid. For undergraduates who have thoroughly immersed themselves in World of Warcraft or similar endeavors, it is much smarter to pick an easy major and do the bare minimum of work. Angry parents often force drop-outs to get jobs, and this can be a serious obstacle to continous gaming.

 I offer this advice with the lone caveat of slim personal experience with extreme gamers. My closest experience with a drop-out story comes from a girl I briefly dated, whose immediately previous long-term boyfriend failed out of college due in large to WoW.

And that gives you a pretty good idea where I stand on the totem pole.

Q.E.D?

I was explaining my theory on the 2008 Pittsburgh Steelers, who at 6-3 had been defeated by all three of the quality teams they had played to that point (Eagles, Giants, Colts). The theory suggests that head coach Mike Tomlin was surreptitiously deposed and replaced by near-twin House actor Omar Epps. The ensuing turnaround--successive victories over Patriots, Cowboys, and Ravens--can be attributed to Epps's much-renowned familiarity with turning around franchises.

When I returned home, I was greeted by this (it is likely that only House viewers will get the reference):

(H.T. KSK)

You decide.

Stranger and Stranger and Stranger...

Brett and I are reading Robert Heinlein's 1961 sci-fi classic Stranger in a Strange Land. Before we even reached the midpoint, grok had been adopted into our conversations. A stupid and pointless non-translation? Sure. But somehow I expect that, while the predictable plot and laughably stereotypical characters will quickly fade into hazy recollection, grok will live on.

Then yesterday, perusing the blogosphere, I stumble upon this:

Warlocks and Morlocks

Don't grok door locks.

The timing is oddly coincidental, and reinforces my suspicion that grok has found a new home in my lexicon.

Nugae for a New Generation

cui dono lepidum novum libellum
arida modo pumice expolitum?
Corneli tibi namque tu solebas
meas esse aliquid putare nugas.

To whom do I give this new volume, slim and refined,
Polished just now with a dry pumice stone?
To you, dear Cornelius, as it is you who has customarily
Considered my little nothings to be something.

These are the initial lines from the programmatic opening poem of Carmina, the collected poems of Gaius Valerius Catullus. You can read the whole poem here. Catullus refers to his opus diminutively, naming it a libellum--"little book," and lepidum--"slim" or "refined," a favorite buzzword. In the same spirit, he calls his subject matter nugas--"trifles." He treats life and love, the everyday concerns of humanity; this is in contrast with the esteemed gravitas innate to epics of war or lengthy treatises on history. These will be my objects of inquiry as well.

Life raises a lot of little questions. One can easily dismiss them as nugae, lacking in substance or value; it is faster, easier to take this approach. But I think it is more interesting to probe. Some, upon investigation, fit the bill. In that case, a question has been resolved, and we become better equipped for trivia bowls and idle bullshitting. Other small questions lead to deeper ones; these require serious consideration, and applying logical processes often reveals the necessity of fundamentally rethinking underlying positions--intellectually neglected and thus, malnourished. Part of the purpose of this blog is to declare war against the disinclination to dig deeper. Here, I will attempt to reach a well-defined conclusion of some nature. Whether you agree or disagree,your participation in the investigation, vocal or tacit, will be of value to me and hopefully, to you as well. 

These poetic lines form a dedication, and I will borrow them to a similar end. Indeed, this blog is for you, reader, who are interested in Nugatology--the study of trifles.

And as Catullus concludes, so do I:

plus uno maneat perenne saeclo.

May it endure continously for longer than a single generation.