Redefining misanthropy for a fresh generation. Standard posts begin with a definition from Ambrose Bierce's The Devil's Dictionary followed by a modern adjustment. Miscellany on Wednesday and storytelling on Saturday.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Diagnosis
DIAGNOSIS, n. A physician's forecast of the disease by the patient's pulse and purse.
2006 Update: The prescription for the affliction of friend, colleague or neighbor.
The tests are back and the diagnosis is that I have a sludge brain these days. I've been reading your clever responses for weeks and have so little to contribute. Any cure?
Diagnosis: n. a small, white rectangular piece of paper with a mis-fortune printed on one side, and a succession of seven numbers on the other side It is used exclusively by quacks as they attempt to convince you that you are, in fact, relatively sane.
DIAGNOSIS, n. From die, to perish, and gnosis, knowledge. Thus, the demise of wisdom among those who should know better. KILLAGNOSIS: see Pol Pot.
My diagnosis of Blogger is that somebody at Google's decided that it makes too little money and therefore doesn't need maintenance, or to be kept alive for its users. Unless they can be convinced to pay for the new improved Beta.
diagnosis-the science of whittling down a million possible answers into one hopefully correct answer. Often used by mechanics as well as those in the medical practice. Syn-guestimation.
Pulse and purse... How true! I work in the health care industry. I also have numerous non life threatening conditions that I'd like to take care of, but my purse doesn't allow it! If your purse doesn't allow it, the life threatening conditions are also allowed to continue threatening your life. Great wisdom!
by the way, any thoughts on our prognosis for a strong ONE-TWO finish in Sar's CAPTION CONTEST this week?
that said, i just received the most charming comment from fellow candidate, Teri, and suddenly i'm not feeling very competitive. it's tough to go for the comedy jugular in the midst of so much grace. not impossible, but still...
I am oh-so familiar with this word. I have many. and it seems that I accumulate more as time goes by. However, I can't complain, I haven't seen the Mortician yet. D :}
Puppy: Grace is so last year. The prognostication from here is a big win for folks who either live on or visit this site. My conclusion is that you should shamelessly promote your entry.
wthswtlgv: What the heck is with these long word verifiers?
Usually mostly bull crap. When one is diagnosed, one hears, "You may or may not experience such and such, and you will most likely feel this or that, but don't hold me to that because I can't be sure. Now, please pay my outrageous fee in full before you leave. I have a new car payment to make." Puh-leeeeeeze!
TLP: thank you! and, of course, you're right. still, you saw how sweet she was, (anyone who hasn't can check out the caption contest HERE. heh heh), so you know what i'm up against. xo
In all seriousness, I hate doctors. I hate going there and on the rare occasion that happens you can see my mom tightly gripping on my arm and dragging me :) But you have to give Icelanders that, while your daily doctors suck and always -without fail- suggest painkillers and a bit of rest to whatever symptoms you might drag into teh room, if you really need anything serious you get -regardless of your purse- all possible treatment available.
I like that about this country.
On an un-related note: I have to cut my toe nails and I am running out f excuses...
Minka, I hear you. I see my doctor every half-decade whether I need it or not and anything hurting, infamed or dangling but not missing gets aloe vera from my backyard.
hey...when I got lost in Portugal...uh there is a story!...I sunburned so badly, becuase I was running around all day looking for my grand parents place...a police car finally drove me home. Grams went into teh garden, broke a bit of an odd looking plant and smeared its sticky stuff all over me. Woke up next mornign with a beautiful teint and no pain.
It's good medicine, isn't it Minka? Mormon tea, aloe vera and sarcasm are the sum of my medications. How did you get lost in a country the size of a convenience store?
First?
ReplyDeleteDiagnosis: you don't want to hear it. And usually don't.
Finding the symtoms to treat in place of a cure to sell more meds
ReplyDeleteDiagnosis wholly dependant upon the quality of your health insurance or how much money is in your pocket
ReplyDeleteDiagnosis-my opinion on your problem.... usually arrived at by sticking the nose in where it doesn't belong.
ReplyDeleteI thought your 2006 update was brilliant!
I have no definition but my favorite book as relates to this word is "You're Only Old Once" by Dr. Seuss.
ReplyDeleteIndie, it's in code in most of your stories.
ReplyDeleteRight, Lammy. "Marketing" is another good definition.
Right, Quilldancer. Use the "Online Devil's Dictionary" in my sidebar and look up "Gout."
Thanks, Kyahgirl. That's the kind of diagnosis the doctors and neighbors refuse to give me.
g, Dr. Seuss always had the right Rx/Dx.
Anomie, that's such a cynical definition. Trouble at home?
Diagnosis: Fitting humans into books.
ReplyDeleteI'd like at least a second opinion. You should get one, too. xoxo
ReplyDeleteAgree with Kayahgirl. Sometimes Doug you surprise me with your brilliance :-)
ReplyDeleteDiagnosis: A hunch. If you're lucky, it's an educated guess. Also see, your guess is as good as mine.
ReplyDeleteThe tests are back and the diagnosis is that I have a sludge brain these days. I've been reading your clever responses for weeks and have so little to contribute.
ReplyDeleteAny cure?
Diagnosis: n. a small, white rectangular piece of paper with a mis-fortune printed on one side, and a succession of seven numbers on the other side It is used exclusively by quacks as they attempt to convince you that you are, in fact, relatively sane.
ReplyDeletesee also, Tarot Card
ahhh, it's so nice to contribute again.
DIAGNOSIS, n. From die, to perish, and gnosis, knowledge. Thus, the demise of wisdom among those who should know better. KILLAGNOSIS: see Pol Pot.
ReplyDeleteMy diagnosis of Blogger is that somebody at Google's decided that it makes too little money and therefore doesn't need maintenance, or to be kept alive for its users. Unless they can be convinced to pay for the new improved Beta.
Diagnosis: an educated guess, usually made after several minutes of study and a shake of the Magic 8-Ball™.
ReplyDeletediagnosis: guesses used by doctors and other health care professionals to pay for a costly education
ReplyDeletediagnosis-the science of whittling down a million possible answers into one hopefully correct answer. Often used by mechanics as well as those in the medical practice. Syn-guestimation.
ReplyDeleteAnd the prognosis doesn't look good either;)
ReplyDeleteDiagnosis: appraisal
ReplyDeletePulse and purse...
ReplyDeleteHow true!
I work in the health care industry.
I also have numerous non life threatening conditions that I'd like to take care of, but my purse doesn't allow it!
If your purse doesn't allow it, the life threatening conditions are also allowed to continue threatening your life.
Great wisdom!
by the way, any thoughts on our prognosis for a strong ONE-TWO finish in Sar's CAPTION CONTEST this week?
ReplyDeletethat said, i just received the most charming comment from fellow candidate, Teri, and suddenly i'm not feeling very competitive. it's tough to go for the comedy jugular in the midst of so much grace. not impossible, but still...
Diagnosis - usually decided by a "rocks-paper-scissors" method.
ReplyDeleteI am oh-so familiar with this word. I have many. and it seems that I accumulate more as time goes by. However, I can't complain, I haven't seen the Mortician yet. D :}
ReplyDeleteOft times it makes no difference of purse... diagnosis comes with full physician expectation of payment without knowing the purse value.
ReplyDeleteNice reversal, Mule.
ReplyDeleteMireille, that's the difference between you and I. I'm ecstatic when I can get one or fewer.
Pia, I think we're all surprised when I'm brilliant.
More or less, TLP.
Mutha, swap the mirrors.
Jake, first rate definition, soldier. Good to see you back.
O Ceallaigh, leave it to you to make me think this through again. I wonder how the word comes from "Blended Knowledge."
Undoubtably yes, Mushroom.
V.I., the reason we pay them so much is to keep them out of our social circles.
Masil, you win the golden coin for syn-guestimation.
Mistress, six more weeks of summer.
Clever, Puppybrose.
Cheesemaster, that's the truth. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure but the copayment is double.
Puppybrose, if elected I will not serve. How about a Puppytoes/Teri ticket?
Jenna, remind me, the broken toe trips the gouged eye, right?
That's the only diagnosis you have to fear, Diane. If you can keep them to one Rx per Dx, you're doing fine.
Bierce never heard of Medicaid, Terry.
Diagnosis: punchline?
ReplyDeletePuppy: Grace is so last year. The prognostication from here is a big win for folks who either live on or visit this site. My conclusion is that you should shamelessly promote your entry.
ReplyDeletewthswtlgv: What the heck is with these long word verifiers?
Usually mostly bull crap.
ReplyDeleteWhen one is diagnosed, one hears, "You may or may not experience such and such, and you will most likely feel this or that, but don't hold me to that because I can't be sure. Now, please pay my outrageous fee in full before you leave. I have a new car payment to make."
Puh-leeeeeeze!
Diagnosis: reality check.
ReplyDeleteTLP: thank you! and, of course, you're right. still, you saw how sweet she was, (anyone who hasn't can check out the caption contest HERE. heh heh), so you know what i'm up against. xo
Diagnosis-hey, I don't have one! No one even asked if I wanted to buy one, either.
ReplyDeleteGreat update!
Diagnosis: the last five minutes of an episode of "House". (Syn. denouement)
ReplyDeletePuppybrose, the punchline is usually the treatment.
ReplyDeleteTLP the verifier pickde on the wrong gal this time.
Jamie Dawn, you've had more than most. I defer.
Puppybrose, How about the clinical confirmation of hypochondria?
Actonbell, maybe if you stop jogging and eating well.
I like that one, a.
actually, i was aiming for something more visceral. but in the spirit of your take on my humble offering, i suppose the "punchline" would be the bill.
ReplyDeletea: that was tasty. and oh-so-true!
Diagnosis: all too frequently, a one word sentence.
ReplyDeleteAccording to House, MD rating, its the stuff of network dream.
ReplyDeleteShowing up late and phoning it in, you threaten me with demerits Mr. Pascover and I tell you know, you will not like your prognosis.
I refuse to tell you my DIAGNOSIS.
ReplyDeleteYou're just going to have to guess.
That was brilliant though you must admmit even to yourself.
Puppybrose, madness!
ReplyDeleteNo demerits, Logo. Only humility is punishable.
That's OK, Cooper, I can make my own diagnosis.
In all seriousness, I hate doctors. I hate going there and on the rare occasion that happens you can see my mom tightly gripping on my arm and dragging me :)
ReplyDeleteBut you have to give Icelanders that, while your daily doctors suck and always -without fail- suggest painkillers and a bit of rest to whatever symptoms you might drag into teh room, if you really need anything serious you get -regardless of your purse- all possible treatment available.
I like that about this country.
On an un-related note: I have to cut my toe nails and I am running out f excuses...
Minka, I hear you. I see my doctor every half-decade whether I need it or not and anything hurting, infamed or dangling but not missing gets aloe vera from my backyard.
ReplyDeletehey...when I got lost in Portugal...uh there is a story!...I sunburned so badly, becuase I was running around all day looking for my grand parents place...a police car finally drove me home. Grams went into teh garden, broke a bit of an odd looking plant and smeared its sticky stuff all over me. Woke up next mornign with a beautiful teint and no pain.
ReplyDeletehere is "High Five" for Aloe Vera!
It's good medicine, isn't it Minka? Mormon tea, aloe vera and sarcasm are the sum of my medications. How did you get lost in a country the size of a convenience store?
ReplyDeleteDoug, that is a story fot for Central Snark one day:) I manage the most impossible things in a hsort time span and an inch of a location ;)
ReplyDelete