"So with the first few BMOs I tried, I combined [the bread, butter, and cheese] into a sandwich, and ate quickly and efficiently with both hands."

"'That’s the burger method,' said Mr. Dyrholm, the Politiken critic. Two friends set me straight. 'It’s just, like, very, very important that you eat it like this,' said Emma Toft Kromann, holding it open-faced. 'If you see someone eating it like a burger, you know they’re not from here,' added Ophelia Ernland. A bolle med ost is the elevenses of a city caught between hustle and hygge...."

From a long NYT article that's just about how people in Copenhagen eat bread with butter and some cheese. The headline is "It’s Sliced Cheese on Bread. And It’s Rocking Copenhagen’s World. The Danish capital is obsessed with this stripped-down snack, and the city’s top bakeries won’t stop until they’ve perfected it."

I haven't seen "elevenses" for so long, I almost thought I didn't know the word. I do know it, but I looked it up anyway. Here:

Ha ha. "Fourzes." "Fourzes" does not, like "elevenses," have its own OED entry. (I do think "elevenses" is plural, so that's a quibble with "A bolle med ost is the elevenses.") 

Anyway, bread and butter and cheese. Perfect. Why do we even need to be reminded that it's a thing? There's a particular way that it's a thing — in Copenhagen.

ADDED: Wikipedia has an entry for "Elevenses." You've probably encountered the word in classic children's literature:

"'That's really chill,' is saved for something really good, like new suede sneakers with a double set of laces..."

"... or some sharp clothing, known as 'gear.' But that's only if the shoes or 'kicks' are Pumas or Adidas. For teen-age boys, this summer's sharpest 'gear' is matching nylon BVD T-shirts and shorts, with the elastic waistband showing out of the top of Lee jeans. A 'chill' outfit for a girl is tight Sergio Valente or Tale Lord jeans, black loafers and anklets."

That's from an August 1983 NYT article, "City Teenagers Talking Up a 'Say When' Storm."

I'm reading that article this morning because I got a bit annoyed by the use of "chill" in this NYT headline: "Austin Abrams Is Pretty Chill, Actually." Ugh. When did we start talking like that and why haven't we stopped?

I'm talking about "chill" as an adjective meaning "Free from anxiety or stress; relaxed, calm; easy-going, laid-back" — to quote the definition in the OED.

The OED calls it "North American slang," and, tracing its appearance in print back to 1983, quotes that NYT article and a slightly earlier writing, the March 1983 UNC-CH typescript "Campus Slang": "Try to be chill when the cops ask you why you ran the red light doing 75 mph."

The slang use of "chill" as a verb meaning to "calm down, relax, take it easy" — which I find less annoying — is a few years older. The OED finds it first in a 1979 song lyric (quoted in a 1992 book):

"If Hegseth were not a musclebound intellectual void, he would know this."

"He would know that the Fort Hood killer told the mental health panel that he wanted to die. He would know his standby lawyers told the judge he was not mounting a defence because he craved the death penalty. He would know that the Greek word for 'martyr' and the Arabic 'shahid' both mean 'witness.' Abdullah Azzam, the godfather of modern jihadism, wrote that nations were built by 'the martyr’s blood and scholar’s ink.' The late al-Qaeda leader Ayman al-Zawahiri — who converted to jihadism after the hanging of a martyr in Egypt in 1966 — wrote that 'more than half the battle is fought in the media.' The great anthropologist Joe Henrich has persuasively argued that martyrdom, and the publicity secured by it, was key to the spread of early religions...."

Writes London Times columnist Matthew Syed in "America’s livestreamed execution is the ultimate gift to jihadists/The Trump administration must meet the Fort Hood killer and all terror with muscular indifference, not this gruesome circus."

"Language and Linguistics for Decolonization and Liberation and for Peace and Community Building — From the River to the Sea in Palestine and Israel to the Mountaintops of Haiti and Beyond."

That's the name of the class discussed in "The Controversial Class That M.I.T. Is Paying a Professor Not to Teach/Michel DeGraff, a vocal pro-Palestinian activist, can’t be easily fired because he has tenure. But he has been kicked out of his department" (NYT).

"An M.I.T. panel rejected the course over questions about whether Dr. DeGraff, a Haitian scholar and expert in the study of Creole languages, had the expertise to teach it. That was supposed to finish the matter.... He disagreed that he lacked the ability to teach the course.... 'M.I.T. should not be repressing my teaching in this way,' Dr. DeGraff said in an interview. He called the decision a 'violation of my professional rights.'..."

"My dad saw Houdini once—did I ever tell you this? He said it was much like you’d expect."

"They tied him up this way and that way, ropes, cables, locked him in a jail cell, then before you knew it came the sound of bolts dropping to the ground and locks flying off, and the great Houdini emerged. He just came walking out three paces behind the sheriff—and it was nothing! Anticlimax! Where was this? Manistique, Michigan, the county jail. Poor Houdini, she said. You should write a poor Houdini sonnet, Vern said. I hate it when people tell me what I should write, she said. I bet, Vern said. But still."

Wrote Anne Carson, the new winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature, in "Poor Houdini," published in 2024 in The New Yorker.

Manistique, Michigan is a real place. It sounds made up, though, don't you think? Like a portmanteau of "man" and "mystique." There's no [famous] book called "The Masculine Mystique."

A new addition to the OED: "will-they-won't-they."

Why did we have to wait so long for that?

Definition: "Relating to or characterized by prolonged uncertainty about whether something is going to take place; spec. relating to whether a romantic relationship will develop between two people."

I see it counts as a TV trope:

This is a Fan Speak term used to describe any relationship that is obviously filled with Unresolved Sexual Tension but the characters resist going into a full blown relationship for a rather long time. Usually the two characters will be presented so that "they will" is the conclusion to root for; only rarely is the question of whether the writers think they should is in any real doubt....

"Will-they-won't-they" reminds me of "The Mock Turtle's Song": “Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?”

"He went!"

Pete Crow-Armstrong showed up Bill Miller after being called out on a check-swing for the second time today. pic.twitter.com/mhTtmngbLN

— Foul Territory (@FoulTerritoryTV) September 30, 2026

I love the short phrases of baseball. "He went!" is the funniest one to me. 

But, words aside, is it funny to see Pete Crow-Armstrong losing it when the Cubs are down 8-0?

"That humans have long been aware of the corrosive danger from kowtowing, toadying, sucking up, piling it on thick, apple-polishing and otherwise bootlicking..."

"... is shown by the extensive array of synonyms and expressions for sycophancy. Despite humanity’s historic distaste for the phenomenon, autocratic rulers and the vainglorious who aspire to such power remain addicted to it. Donald Trump, with his Cabinet meetings turned into spectacles of public groveling, is just the latest example, if an especially flagrant one. The more cocooned in sycophancy Trump is, it seems, the more vindictive he is toward those not inclined toward Uriah Heepishness, witness the president’s recent effort to bar from the White House those news organizations whose coverage he finds intolerable. Trump can’t resist a temptation known since the fall of man...."

Write Matthew Gwyther — producer of the BBC documentary, "Sucking Up: A Guide to Sycophancy Through the Ages" — in "From the Garden of Eden to the president's Cabinet meetings, apple-polishing has a sorry history" (WaPo).

Yes, I know this is one more example of kicking Trump around over an oft-noted character flaw, but the essay is well-written, it refers not only to Dickens but also to Milton, Shakespeare, and Machiavelli, and I'm interested in this theory that the numerosity of synonyms signifies the importance of the concept.

In that light, here's an excerpt from Geoffrey K. Pullum's 1991 book "The Great Eskimo Vocabulary Hoax":

"Whimsymaxxers talk about bringing out the magic in the everyday, but increasingly that magic is seen as something to be measured and harnessed."

"It is no surprise, then, that whimsy slots so comfortably into the jargon of our wellness-saturated culture. One social media guru breaks whimsy down into a series of salutary 'microhabits'; another speaks of whimsy as a means of maximizing the return on investment of one’s 'inner child.' Whimsymaxxing is presented as part of a 'low-cortisol morning' routine.... Buy yourself a little treat. Invest in your inner child. Let your impulses drive. 'Fun is a medicinal bath,' as Max Horkheimer and Theodor Adorno put it more than 80 years ago. 'The pleasure industry never fails to prescribe it.'"

From an "On Language" column by Mitch Therieau, "Has a Dash of ‘Whimsy' Become Less Whimsical?" (NYT).

Therieau informs us that in the 18th century "'whim' and 'whimsy' came also to mean... a rotating drum or capstan, attached to a rope, that could lower and raise materials into and out of a mine." He uses that old meaning to question what we're talking about today when we talk about "whimsy": "Isn’t life today a bit too mechanical? Aren’t we treating ourselves too much like machines?"

"We hold [these events] aloft as crystalline emblems of how this carnival government of men advances the professional interests of men, at the expense of all who are not men."

Crystalline emblems, eh?

I'm trying to read "The Thomas and Kavanaugh Hearings Restaged as a Theatre of Fact
'The Ford/Hill Project,' a documentary play, may capture recent events, but it’s a product of the present: activist theatre in a moment when the idea of civic urgency is losing purchase," by Doreen St. Félix, in The New Yorker. (Felix covered the Kavanaugh hearings for The New Yorker.)

"Hamilton’s Kavanaugh delivers his denial in bleats of indignation, and Bougere’s Thomas is rigid, stentorian, as he categorically rejects Hill’s claims. Because the stage is so empty, rid of the bureaucratic veneer of the so-called system, we start thinking about the state as an invisible force, everywhere and nowhere...."

I wondered if anyone had ever, before this, called anything a "crystalline emblem," and discovered the sad little world of car logos bedazzled with crystals. Like this.

"Crystalline emblem" could also be some magical object floating somewhere in a video game. As in "the naaru-like crystalline emblems on the spaulders are pretty cool."

But I get how it comes up in writing about art. "Crystalline" is one of those words like "luminous" that belong on a list of words never to use again to describe writing.  

Clanger, clanker, clunker, clinker.

Words that have confused me in the last 24 hours:

"Clanger" — seen in the bobdylan subreddit: "Favourite Bob ‘clanger’ but you really love?" The "u" in "favourite" alerts you to a Britishism. We get the meaning from the context: "Despite Bob being the greatest lyricist of all time, he’s also got some, in my opinion, clangers." I was excited to read this thread because it took on a subject Meade and I had discussed that very day: the 3 lines in a row that end in the word "table" (lyrics here). Anyway... clanger... don't we Americans say "clunker"? Or is "clunker" more of a car, the kind of car Obama offered cash for. 

"Clanker" — seen at Metafilter: "I’m being hustled by clankers"/"These agents are not trying to make money for their creators. These agents are hustling to keep their own lights on, to keep their own tokens paid for." Again, it seems as though "clunker" would do, but I guess robots hustling about make a more high-pitched sound, not so high that it's a "clinker." But I learn that "clanker" is a hot new word. Here's the NYT in August 2025: "How ‘Clanker’ Became an Anti-A.I. Rallying Cry/The term, which was popularized by a 'Star Wars' show and is rooted in real frustrations with technology, has become a go-to slur against artificial intelligence and robots."

By the way, the OED tells us that "clinker" is U.S. slang that originated in baseball — another word for "error." It now means: "An error; a failure, a 'dud'; esp. a film, song, etc., of poor quality. Also (occasionally): an incompetent or unsuitable person." I like this quote from the NYT in 1983: "Peer pressure combines with our fear of being wimpishly irrelevant to prompt most of us to include a few real clinkers in our otherwise carefully considered presents."

"Clunker" has meant a bad old car since at least 1930, the date of this quote found by the OED: "His Honor Rides—Mayor Frank Edwards as he appeared yesterday on his mighty charger for the opening of the Automobile Show of 1930, with Cap'n Dobbsie riding a ‘klunker’, one of the show's exhibits." It's meant "a failure, a 'dud,'" since at least 1963.

I think clanger, clanker, clunker, and clinker are all words based on sound: clang, clank, clunk, clink. I'll put them in order of pitch, low to high: clunk, clang, clank, clink. There, now, confusion conquered. 

Clink!

*Rides off in Cap'n Dobbsie's klunker*

"I am using [the word 'scam'] more liberally than I think other people do. On purpose, because I think it’s funny."

Says Alex Falcone, who makes videos in a series called “Is It a Scam? Yep," quoted in "Alcohol. Manliness. Flushable Wipes. Since When Are These ‘Scams’?" (NYT gift link).

I like this expansion of the word. It is, as Falcone says, funny. 

Watch his videos on YouTube here.

Example:

ADDED: Once you start using the word "scam" this way, you quickly progress and will, I predict, get to "life itself" in less than 15 minutes. It's more light-hearted than calling everything "bullshit." It's reminiscent of Holden Caulfield calling everything "phony."

AND: There are quite a few things I've blogged about over the years that reflect an opinion that I could express with this broad use of the word scam — journalism, tourist travel, flying on a plane, manned space travel, the 2 major parties, calls for civility....

Talking crossword.

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"If 'lore' is in part a word about treating fiction as a set of discoverable facts, it is also a word that imagines the hard facts of real life as part of a grand story...."

Writes Mitch Therleau, in "A Simple, One-Word Trick to Turn Everyday Life Into Grand Fantasy" (NYT gift link).

“Share a piece of lore about yourself,” goes one perennial prompt post on X.... The responses these kinds of posts elicit are not unlike the fun facts you might be prompted to share in an icebreaker activity.... Calling these unfun facts “lore” perhaps blunts the pain of the original experiences, rhetorically placing them in misty antiquity and sarcastically puffing them up into arcane secrets.... “Does your brand have lore?” asks Advertising Week... “Lore” is a hinge word, a threshold word. Fiction passes through it and becomes tangible fact; facts pass through it and become part of a grand story. Its ultimate trick is to make knowledge not embarrassing or useless, but a form of dark magic.

ADDED: This makes me think of the old Mothers of Invention song about becoming a hippie:

First I'll buy some beads
And then perhaps a leather band to go around my head
Some feathers and bells
And a book of Indian lore....

It doesn't take much these days to be considered "formal."

I'm reading "Think It’s Cool to Wear Fancy Sneakers to Work? You Might Be Old. After years of office casual, young people are embracing loafers, derbies and oxfords" (NYT gift link).

Earlier this year, Esquire described the trend as the loafer’s “big generational shift,” describing how younger consumers “were bypassing sneakers in growing numbers.” And in January, The Times UK deemed 2026 “the year of the loafer.”...

The surging interest in formal footwear fashions has simultaneously been a boon for both high-end luxury retailers and heritage brands with classic shoe offerings, like Allen Edmonds, the Wisconsin-based retailer. Nick Wooster, the brand’s consulting creative director, said that they have “absolutely” seen a recent increase in interest in their handmade leather loafers and derbies among younger customers. 

Even sneaker brands are trying to be more dressy.

The hotness.

Magazine array at my hairdresser's.

I was struck by People's limited vocabulary. Is "hot" all they can come up with anymore? Does does word connote sexiness anymore? Or just popularity. Also, that Wisconsin bride is so glum. Aren't brides suppose to glow with happiness? I don't think a bride's magazine would ever do a cover story on forced marriage or even grim golddigging. Too bad she didn't find that "hottest billionaire." And, in case you are curious, I did not arrange the magazines to emblazon "Charles Manson Was My Grandfather" across her chest.

Bison man speaks.

The 65-year-old man who was flipped eight feet in the air by a bison this month at Yellowstone National Park shared his story from his hospital bed. Carl Isom-McDaniel broke his femur in four places, had surgery and is now recovering at a Montana hospital.

“They move faster than… pic.twitter.com/oJnnVrWbzu

— CBS News (@CBSNews) July 21, 2026

My tag for bison is "buffalo." Sorry. I know it's a bison. I searched for "bison" in my tags, but all that came up was "Roy Orbison." Hmm. Good idea for a purple category in the NYT game "Connections." 

ADDED: Back in 2012, we went to Yellowstone, and I wrote a post, with photographs, titled "Buffalo in the Mist." In the comments, I wrote these 2 things:

1. "Driving into Yellowstone, Meade and I had a conversation about whether we preferred to say 'bison'" (the technically correct term) or 'buffalo' (the colloquial american name for the beast). We decided on buffalo. It's more American and it's just a cooler word."

2. Responding to a commenter who warned me: "Careful, Althouse. Though they look gentle, they're still wild animals and should be treated as such." I wrote: "We were on a boardwalk that is about 2 miles long. You can't go any other way (unless you go back). You can't walk on the ground. We were just trying to get back out to the parking lot, and the buffalo was right there. I was scared, but I had to walk past it. There was no other way to go. I am not one of these people who go up to the animals. I'm about photographing the landscapes."

"You left them to pack their suitcase and they brought three pairs of pants.... 'Choose your battles...' Forgetting pants isn’t catastrophic."

"Tell your teens, 'It’s my holiday too, and the things that will make it feel like a holiday for me are not having to hassle you all the time, being able to read my book on the sun lounger, and not being the dogsbody doing all the work.'"

I'm reading The London Times — "How to have a holiday with your teenager — without arguments/Sun, sea… and sulking? Teens can test your patience when you go away. The psychologist Dr Beth Mosley gives her advice" — so I need to be on the lookout for Britishism. 

Sometimes they're not so obvious. I was all, what's wrong with 3 pairs of pants? Too many pants — right? — so maybe there aren't enough shirts? But, no, "forgetting pants isn’t catastrophic"? How has the kid forgotten pants if he brought 3 pairs of pants? How long is this vacation? Oh, I get it...  pants. When they say "pants," they mean underpants.

"Dogsbody" you can see is something they must say that we don't say, but "pants" flew under the radar.

"I'll have got used to being a dog's body," wrote T. E. Lawrence in 1922.

"Like many terrible things, we can blame therapyspeak on America’s stupidest decade: the 1970s."

"Back then, it was called psychobabble.... The concept survived the hedonistic ’80s, the grimy ’90s, and the low-rise aughts only to reemerge in the social media age with a new name and a more sinister purpose.... Isn’t it odd... that the most selfish people you know always seem to be the ones who are armchair diagnosing their friends and family with personality disorders? I’m reminded of the minor scandal that erupted a few years ago when an A-list actor allegedly wrote private messages to his then girlfriend telling her that if she needed to post photos of herself in a bathing suit, he was not the right partner for her. Elsewhere he wrote, 'I’d love to know before the premiere so I’m not put in the position of publicly flaunting our love if my boundaries are going to be continued to be disrespected. That would be hurtful and triggering for me.' The girlfriend was a professional surfer...."

From "You're Not a Therapist. Stop Talking Like One/Please respect everyone else's boundaries by keeping your psychobabble to yourself" (Vanity Fair).

This is an important general issue, but if you're interested in the A-list actor part of it, here's a Newsweek article from 2023: "Jonah Hill, Sarah Brady Text Messages—Full Transcript." It's really long and a massive invasion of privacy. Why did Newsweek publish all that? Or maybe the better question is why do people have their arguments via text? Why would anyone want to leave a cold record for the whole world to read? And this was a man concerned with "boundaries."

"La la la la."

That's the call from the press as Trump arrives at Versailles Palace. 

Is that how reporters try to get a leader's attention in France? I don't think so. I think they would normally use "Mr. President." So is "La la la la" like shouting "Hey!"? No, I don't think that's the case either. I'm understanding "La la la la" as a more random filler sound. I consulted Grok: "'La la la la' functions more like rhythmic, attention-grabbing noise or an extension of the French interjection "Oh là là!" (often elongated for emphasis)."