"I have (and for this gift I congratulate myself with Deep and Abiding Thankfulness) an eye for a Snob."

"It is a great mistake to judge of Snobs lightly, and think they exist among the lower classes merely. An immense percentage of Snobs, I believe, is to be found in every rank of this mortal life. You must not judge hastily or vulgarly of Snobs: to do so shows that you are yourself a Snob. I myself have been taken for one."

Wrote William Makepeace Thackeray, in the Prefatory Remarks of "The Book of Snobs" (1848).

I got sidetracked this morning into the topic of the history of snobbery. It all started with the idle question: Why does "art" mean painting and sculpture but "arts" means theater and concerts? A language question. 

I don't have a tag "snobbery," but I can see there are lots of old posts that could take it.

"What are some famous examples — in truth or fiction — of a character who puts a lot of effort into being able to be lazy?"

I ask ChatGPT, a propos of the previous post about the "Lazy Girl" jobs. I was influenced by a comment from Jamie, who wrote, "Heinlein wrote a story called 'The Man Who Was Too Lazy To Fail,' about a smart but lazy guy who spends his life and career thinking up efficiencies and ends up very successful."

ChatGPT answered me:

"Kramer’s old uniform—camp-collar shirts in colorfully printed silk or rayon, sack pants that pull up a little short at the ankle to reveal white socks, clunky-soled shoes, a thin gold chain..."

"... is new again. This summer, the stylish young men I’ve seen around New York have continued their rejection of the once-inescapable skinny pants and check shirts in favor of something a little looser and decidedly more louche."

Writes Amanda Mull in "It Was Only a Matter of Time Before Everyone Started Dressing Like Kramer/It’s the summer of Kramercore" (The Atlantic).

"Years of stretch fabrics that really needed the stretch have given way to breezy textiles and retro short-sleeved knits with a natural slouch, idiosyncratic prints, a lot more color, and maybe a little bit of embroidery. There are fewer sneakers and more loafers. And then there are all those camp collars.... Tired of the sameness and omnipresence of new clothes and nostalgic for a past that many of them don’t remember, young people have plunged themselves into thrifting and vintage resale, hunting for weird or interesting things from the ’90s and early 2000s."

"Last Wednesday, Scott Gottlieb and I debated Jonathan Chait and Douglas Kamerow on this proposition: 'Resolved: Obamacare Is Now Beyond Rescue.'"

"I was feeling a little trepid, for three reasons: First, I’ve never done any formal debate; second, the resolution gave the 'for' side a built-in handicap, as the 'against' side just had to prove that Obamacare might not be completely beyond rescue; and third, we were debating on the Upper West Side. Now, I grew up on the Upper West Side and love it dearly. But for this particular resolution, it’s about the unfriendliest territory this side of Pyongyang."

Writes Megan McArdle. I almost got fervid over the unfairness of the absolutism of the proposition she had to defend, but that's how to keep the affair from being tepid, so let me instead talk about the fascinating word choice, trepid.

We know "trepidation." Is "trepid" a word? The (unlinkable) OED says yes. It's officially rare, but why not revive the spiffy, short word that ought to romp and play in the living language if the clunky "trepidation" lumbers around like it's helping anybody with anything? "Trepid" means "Trembling; agitated; fearful," and it's traced back to 1650 and was notably used by Thackeray in 1859: "The poor little trepid creature, panting and helpless under the great eyes."

I'm sure McArdle was not panting and helpless under the great eyes of Jonathan Chait...



... but go to the link to read her account. And here's Chait's account.

"Smitten by his love."

"The cross of Christ invites us also to allow ourselves to be smitten by his love, teaching us always to always look upon others with mercy and tenderness," said Pope Francis, in Brazil. I don't think he was speaking English. But... smitten.

It's just the past participle of "smite," which is a strange old word that we associate with God striking someone dead. We think of it used comically, affecting an old-time locution.

St. Patrick's Old Cathedral gets 4-and-a-half stars on Yelp.

"How can you not give a Church 5-stars - maybe it's just the Catholic guilt in me but if you go to Church, even if only once a year, you should give it 5-stars :-)"

I never noticed Yelp had ratings on churches. Fascinating. I was Googling St. Patrick's Old Cathedral — which is in Little Italy in New York, prompting one Yelpist to say "it's funny when the patron saint of another country is in the wrong ethnic neighborhood." She gives 4-and-a-half stars, and perhaps that half-star deduction is for ethnicity mismatching.