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.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Dad
DAD, n. A father whom his vulgar children do not respect.
2010 Update: A candidate for promotion, every Father's Day, to father.
Inspired by this post (I think you outdid Bierce here, RBUD), I went to a volume published in 1910 entitled DEAR OLD FATHER. The editor apparently had a writing contest in which the famous poet Edgar Guest, who would then have been in his late teens, came in third for a poem whose last verse I give below:
To-day I know that every act and deed And every kiss he pressed upon my cheek, Were fraught with meaning only God can read,-- His heart held words his lips could never speak; And ever he was looking far ahead, With tears his eyes were often, often dim, To-day I know--Oh, would he were not dead! What I am now I owe alone to him!
Already we can perceive the qualities that would lead Dorothy Parker to proclaim, "I'd rather fail my Wasserman Test / Than read the poetry of Edgar Guest."
Oops! I guess I should have let a father go first.
ReplyDeleteI got nothin' for the word. Is this about the Pope?
Father knows best but I opted to remain just a Dad.
ReplyDeleteDads do know too you know.
..
Or do you?
..
Dad: he wasn't the stuff of 50's and 60's sit coms (except Danny Thomas) but we kept him anyway
ReplyDeleteDad - what my misbehaving middle child is regretting having this morning. Tied for world's toughest job.
ReplyDeleteword veri: angstsms.
Dad is a trustful word, isn't it?
ReplyDeleteDAD, n. - A good dad should be promoted to every day...mine...I hope he's rotting someplace. LOL
ReplyDeleteDAD, n. Devil's Dictionary as opposed to Miriam-Webster.
ReplyDelete2010 Update: A medical procedure known as "Leeching" 1). to bleed by the use of leeches 2). to drain the substance of; exhaust
Dude. Try Tylenol. I understand it makes predecomposition less painful.
"We would like to do an interview with you about your blog for Blog
ReplyDeleteInterviewer." LOL! How it was with the brothel, again? :-P
Brothel? Oh my. The things you find when try to learn about the word LOL! Go, girl!
ReplyDeleteCarole qui deshabille un mannequin??
~~
I always liked "dad." Father takes too long to say - takes time from my recitation of a favorite story [again]
ReplyDeletePops is good also
Who's your daddy?
ReplyDeleteIsn't that what they say in a brothel?
Good Lord. How awkward.
ReplyDeleteSteve, how about a guest blog post? Write down this favorite story of yours and upload an audio to Doug Drones On.
I mean who knows, you might become famous with your own star on Hollywood Blvd.
I hope they can spell that name correctly on the star. They should always use a spell checker.
ReplyDeleteJe ne pense pas qu'il y aurait toute excitation à se déshabiller un mannequin.
TLP, that would have been a while to wait.
ReplyDeleteHop on pop, Actonbell! I'd forgotten all about that one.
Hard to say, Jim. Kids don't listen nohow.
And that, Pia, is how fathers teach graciousness.
Tied with being kid, Sauerkraut?
It is, Ariel, which might be why Cooper says it's popular in brothels.
Thanks, Mike. Welcome.
Why not, Thom. Most of us are.
Thanks, Karen. I'm not sure I've tried tylenol but I might one day.
Ariel, you mean "Ceci n'est pas un bordello?" Good memory.
Karen, education is a lifelong process.
Pop, what does your opinion have to do with this?
Cooper, how am I supposed to know? I suspect a trap. (That's the other thing they say.)
Karen, he's famous among his children and grandchildren, largely for telling stories.
Dad is a Honor
ReplyDeleteany
dick,tom,or larry
can be a
father
peace
Inspired by this post (I think you outdid Bierce here, RBUD), I went to a volume published in 1910 entitled DEAR OLD FATHER. The editor apparently had a writing contest in which the famous poet Edgar Guest, who would then have been in his late teens, came in third for a poem whose last verse I give below:
ReplyDeleteTo-day I know that every act and deed
And every kiss he pressed upon my cheek,
Were fraught with meaning only God can read,--
His heart held words his lips could never speak;
And ever he was looking far ahead,
With tears his eyes were often, often dim,
To-day I know--Oh, would he were not dead!
What I am now I owe alone to him!
Already we can perceive the qualities that would lead Dorothy Parker to proclaim, "I'd rather fail my Wasserman Test / Than read the poetry of Edgar Guest."
Bear, I missed your poetry.
ReplyDeleteWeirsdo, thanks for that. It takes a heap o' scribblin' to make a grouse a poem.