I love the idea that some is working on A Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows - a blog. But a lot of the sorrows, I'm sorry to say, don't seem that obscure or sorrowful. They are more like situations of varying emotional content that don't have a single name - as if deja vue and schadenfreude had no name.
Some internet situations I think should be named
succumbing to obvious click bait - clickoffools successfully tricked by click bait into downloading trojan - voldemortclick wandered off an interesting link trip and woke up suddenly to work undone - RipvanClick great site goes under - linkedout similar sites linking - linkon
Obscure internet sorrows realizing how many really interesting blogs are out there - realizing how many really uninteresting blogs are out there
All blogs are done by human persons - why don't the daffodils blog
Or why don't the roses blog when June is over so that we don't need to ask where Jove bestows June is past the the fading rose. (obscure sorrow)
Where did the web go when the Lady of Shalott looked down to Camelot? Will that same fate somehow befall the World Wide Web? Is Lancelot on his way? Or the sunspot eruption? (obscure fear)
Imagination's sorrows Why do fools fall in love with Armageddon? (obscure impatience)
Philosophical sorrows Why do people think that Hillary Clinton is trustworthy because she is a known liar whereas other politicians are only suspected liars? (liarsparadox sorrow)
There was a girl in college who made it obvious that she was interested in me, by many of the standard agreed-upon methods: playing flirtily with her hair, a hand rested upon my knee, lifting her shirt and showing me her amazing breasts. The latter was done under the guise of her showing me her new nipple ring, but I knew what she meant.
The only problem was her breath: not rotten-meat horrible, but a constant presence of what can best be described as cabbage.
Often I would take a breath-mint for myself, and then casually offer her one. She would take it, but immediately after it was gone: cabbage.
I could picture myself laying upon her stupendous naked body, feel her fingertips on my back, only to involuntarily shudder at the thought of her breath hot and humid in my face: again, cabbage.
Now I look back and remember just how amazing her face and body was, and realize: Shuddadunner.
It's not like we couldn't have done it doggy-style, where her breath in my face wouldn't have been a factor. And, in retrospect, I could've probably held my breath to stomach a quick kiss. Or maybe even introduce a ball-gag: after all, she DID have a nipple ring -- I bet she would've gone for it.
Of course, this all comes to me now, when it is too late.
Needless to say, I learned my lesson. There is always Listerine.
Then there's halitosis: The realization that the best-looking young woman in the whole school is single and available because her breath smells like a septic tank.
Some feelings are culturally formed - Jahe -Tagalog - the embarrassment felt upon realizing one has expressed an opinion or feeling outside the group consensus. There are lots of others.
Some feelings are culturally formed - Jahe -Tagalog - the embarrassment felt upon realizing one has expressed an opinion or feeling outside the group consensus. There are lots of others.
Ex-wife: We need to talk. Me: A conversation that starts like that never ends well. Ex-wife: You don't listen. You act like you already know what I'm going to say. Me: I do. I've had a jouska. Ex-wife: A what? Me: A jouska. A hypothetical conversation that I repeat over and over in my imagination, and the conversation begins with you saying, "We need to talk." Ex-wife: Where do you learn these weird things? Me: I don't know. Wasting time when I'm supposed to be working. [Long pause.] Ex-wife: [with a wry smile] At least it's not internet porn. Me: So. What do want to discuss? Ex-wife: Nothing. I changed my mind. C'mere.
There was a girl in college who made it obvious that she was interested in me, by many of the standard agreed-upon methods: playing flirtily with her hair, a hand rested upon my knee, lifting her shirt and showing me her amazing breasts. The latter was done under the guise of her showing me her new nipple ring, but I knew what she meant.
Same dang thing happened to me in high school. These days, she would have been arrested for exploiting my innocent self.
At age 72 I have deja vu about all the times I've felt deja vu.
Yes, I've experienced chrysalism, but it doesn't work with hurricanes (because you can't feel safe until it's over), which is one reason I moved out of south Florida. I don't know what you call the realization that south Florida hasn't been hit by a hurricane since I left.
Jouska sounds like oral argument prep, except in oral argument prep you always give the wrong answer.
Giving things names may create the illusion that you are in control, but you're not.
As I've gotten older, I've definitely had feelings of ellipsism. (I didn't even know it had a name.)
In my lifetime, I've gone from the slide rule to the smartphone, from Jim Crow to the first black POTUS. It makes me wonder what amazing things today's kids will live to see, things that I will never see.
MadisonMan said... "Am looking forward to a little chrysalism tonight. Glad I won't be camping. (If you are camping in WI tonight, pay close attention to the weather)"
I wasn't camping last night. Still, I can't exactly say I experienced CHRYSALISM — a sense of warmth, peace, and tranquility when you are warm and dry inside the house during an intense rainstorm. It was hot, muggy and then blustery and noisy. The winds, vertical rain, and breaking tree branches had me awake much of the night.
So now I am feeling ENOUEMENT — wishing I could go back to yesterday and tell my past self about the future: Don't worry. Close the windows. Turn on the air conditioner. In the morning, there will be no real damage from the storm. It will only seem tornadic. Go back to sleep — things will turn out OK. Don't be a fool — try and catch a little... chrysalism.
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20 comments:
Missing from the list:
The Laslo Effect.
This takes place when coming across something you believe you should find disgusting or vile, yet are unable to turn away.
I am Laslo.
I love the idea that some is working on A Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows - a blog. But a lot of the sorrows, I'm sorry to say, don't seem that obscure or sorrowful. They are more like situations of varying emotional content that don't have a single name - as if deja vue and schadenfreude had no name.
Some internet situations I think should be named
succumbing to obvious click bait - clickoffools
successfully tricked by click bait into downloading trojan - voldemortclick
wandered off an interesting link trip and woke up suddenly to work undone - RipvanClick
great site goes under - linkedout
similar sites linking - linkon
Obscure internet sorrows
realizing how many really interesting blogs are out there -
realizing how many really uninteresting blogs are out there
All blogs are done by human persons - why don't the daffodils blog
Or why don't the roses blog when June is over so that we don't need to ask where Jove bestows June is past the the fading rose. (obscure sorrow)
Where did the web go when the Lady of Shalott looked down to Camelot? Will that same fate somehow befall the World Wide Web? Is Lancelot on his way? Or the sunspot eruption? (obscure fear)
Imagination's sorrows
Why do fools fall in love with Armageddon? (obscure impatience)
Philosophical sorrows
Why do people think that Hillary Clinton is trustworthy because she is a known liar whereas other politicians are only suspected liars? (liarsparadox sorrow)
Exulansis. Oh yes.
There's a book of German words for emotions you didn't ever notice that you had Schottenfreude.
Speichelgleichmut, pretending you haven't been accidentally spat on in conversation, =saliva-stoicism
Jamais vu, presque vu, etc.
Sometimes I feel a strong sense of Shuddadunner.
There was a girl in college who made it obvious that she was interested in me, by many of the standard agreed-upon methods: playing flirtily with her hair, a hand rested upon my knee, lifting her shirt and showing me her amazing breasts. The latter was done under the guise of her showing me her new nipple ring, but I knew what she meant.
The only problem was her breath: not rotten-meat horrible, but a constant presence of what can best be described as cabbage.
Often I would take a breath-mint for myself, and then casually offer her one. She would take it, but immediately after it was gone: cabbage.
I could picture myself laying upon her stupendous naked body, feel her fingertips on my back, only to involuntarily shudder at the thought of her breath hot and humid in my face: again, cabbage.
Now I look back and remember just how amazing her face and body was, and realize: Shuddadunner.
It's not like we couldn't have done it doggy-style, where her breath in my face wouldn't have been a factor. And, in retrospect, I could've probably held my breath to stomach a quick kiss. Or maybe even introduce a ball-gag: after all, she DID have a nipple ring -- I bet she would've gone for it.
Of course, this all comes to me now, when it is too late.
Needless to say, I learned my lesson. There is always Listerine.
I am Laslo.
Am looking forward to a little chrysalism tonight. Glad I won't be camping. (If you are camping in WI tonight, pay close attention to the weather)
I prefer to leave my nameless horrors un-named, in the spirit of HP Lovecraft.
Then there's halitosis: The realization that the best-looking young woman in the whole school is single and available because her breath smells like a septic tank.
Some feelings are culturally formed -
Jahe -Tagalog - the embarrassment felt upon realizing one has expressed an opinion or feeling outside the group consensus.
There are lots of others.
Some feelings are culturally formed -
Jahe -Tagalog - the embarrassment felt upon realizing one has expressed an opinion or feeling outside the group consensus.
There are lots of others.
That's a cool link -
Where did you get these words from?
Jouska is a common idea (rehearsing a rejoinder or speech) but I've never heard of that word.
. . . I often get feelings of ellipsism . . . can't shake it . . .
great site goes under - linkedout
There is a way of saying that: The link (or site) is "down"
That would be whether it was great or not.
How do you make "linked out" refer to only great sites?
similar sites linking - linkon
This is called a "ring"
Ex-wife: We need to talk.
Me: A conversation that starts like that never ends well.
Ex-wife: You don't listen. You act like you already know what I'm going to say.
Me: I do. I've had a jouska.
Ex-wife: A what?
Me: A jouska. A hypothetical conversation that I repeat over and over in my imagination, and the conversation begins with you saying, "We need to talk."
Ex-wife: Where do you learn these weird things?
Me: I don't know. Wasting time when I'm supposed to be working.
[Long pause.]
Ex-wife: [with a wry smile] At least it's not internet porn.
Me: So. What do want to discuss?
Ex-wife: Nothing. I changed my mind. C'mere.
Laslo Spatula said... [hush][hide comment]
Sometimes I feel a strong sense of Shuddadunner.
There was a girl in college who made it obvious that she was interested in me, by many of the standard agreed-upon methods: playing flirtily with her hair, a hand rested upon my knee, lifting her shirt and showing me her amazing breasts. The latter was done under the guise of her showing me her new nipple ring, but I knew what she meant.
Same dang thing happened to me in high school. These days, she would have been arrested for exploiting my innocent self.
At age 72 I have deja vu about all the times I've felt deja vu.
Yes, I've experienced chrysalism, but it doesn't work with hurricanes (because you can't feel safe until it's over), which is one reason I moved out of south Florida. I don't know what you call the realization that south Florida hasn't been hit by a hurricane since I left.
Jouska sounds like oral argument prep, except in oral argument prep you always give the wrong answer.
Giving things names may create the illusion that you are in control, but you're not.
As I've gotten older, I've definitely had feelings of ellipsism. (I didn't even know it had a name.)
In my lifetime, I've gone from the slide rule to the smartphone, from Jim Crow to the first black POTUS. It makes me wonder what amazing things today's kids will live to see, things that I will never see.
MadisonMan said...
"Am looking forward to a little chrysalism tonight. Glad I won't be camping. (If you are camping in WI tonight, pay close attention to the weather)"
I wasn't camping last night. Still, I can't exactly say I experienced CHRYSALISM — a sense of warmth, peace, and tranquility when you are warm and dry inside the house during an intense rainstorm. It was hot, muggy and then blustery and noisy. The winds, vertical rain, and breaking tree branches had me awake much of the night.
So now I am feeling ENOUEMENT — wishing I could go back to yesterday and tell my past self about the future: Don't worry. Close the windows. Turn on the air conditioner. In the morning, there will be no real damage from the storm. It will only seem tornadic. Go back to sleep — things will turn out OK. Don't be a fool — try and catch a little... chrysalism.
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