In a Word, Odious

Perhaps I am overly attuned to things Orwell, but lately an uptick in media references to the writer has me nodding sagely with the appropriate “Uh-huh” to no one in particular unless you count my dog, Max.

Never been a fan of super-then fill in whatever word you wish construction—just doesn’t resonate with me, and slides into the Orwellian realm of doubleplusungood. No, I prefer to use words that slice ideas and feelings into thinner slivers of meaning. Something like, oh, a word like odious.

Racism is odious.

Bigotry is odious.

War is odious.

Sexism and ageism. Odious and, odious.

Rape, odious.

Physical assault, odious.

Bullying, odious.

Shaming, odious.

Price gouging, odious.

Lying, odious.

Well, this listing could go on and on. Let’s, for the sake of the dreaded learning experience that is not so cleverly designed as a word game, do a mix and match. Come on, it will be fun.

Substitute a word that you think best matches for racism, bigotry, war, sexism, ageism, rape, physical assault, bully, shaming, price gouging, and lying.

Google gets at the sense of the word odious in pretty worthwhile fashion:  extremely unpleasant; repulsive, revolting, repellent, repugnant, disgusting,  offensive, objectionable, vile, foul, abhorrent, loathsome, nauseating, sickening,  hateful, detestable, execrable, abominable, monstrous, appalling, reprehensible,  deplorable, insufferable, intolerable, despicable, contemptible, unspeakable,  atrocious, awful, terrible, dreadful, frightful, obnoxious, unsavory, unpalatable,  unpleasant, disagreeable, nasty, noisome, distasteful; ghastly, horrid, gross;  godawful, beastly. Now, wasn’t that doubleplusfun? Super-fun? Exhilarating!

Re: The White House--An Open Letter to the President-elect

Dear President-elect Donald J. Trump,

Mr. Trump, I would like to urge you to reside full-time in the White House during your tenure as president. When you take the oath of office, you will no longer be citizen Trump, businessman Trump, Manhattanite Trump. You, Sir, will be highest ranking public servant in the United States. 

The White House is the public’s house for the person who holds the office of the presidency. Symbolically and practically, it is where you will conduct much of the public’s national business. As you know, the public, under your leadership, stretches from San Juan to Huntsville to Pueblo to Hilo.

That Americans come from across this nation to that building as tourists or in times of crisis sets the tenor for what the White House represents—the place where the president resides, the place where the president does the great work that needs to be done.

That historic building, which is more than its construction materials, gives weight to your decisions, and by the work you will do, you will give weight to the legacy of that national symbol. And so, Mr. Trump, only the White House is appropriate for your full-time home as you serve your fellow citizens during your term as president.

If I may add one more thought, on the day of your inauguration, about 10,000 babies will be born in the U.S. To take a moment for an obvious point, the newest citizens among us do not choose their family, their gender, their race, their socio-economic status, their geographic location, nor their president.

About half, maybe a bit more, will be considered part of the minority population in the U.S. They perhaps more than any other citizens, Sir, are in your care. May you keep all those children—all 10,000—in your heart and mind as you lead this country as its 45^th president. And those children who will follow each and every day.

Best wishes to you and your family as you undertake this task.

Sincerely,

Scott Kaple

Sorry, Not Sorry

Bad good-reader, bad Linkedin-er!

From time to time, I am reminded by friends and colleagues that I am a sorry practitioner on goodreads. I am perfectly willing to use the site to my advantage—checking out writers that I am unfamiliar with, sometimes borrowing quotations—but never do I contribute. Never.

My defense? I’m still talked out on books. The result from teaching high school English for 31 years. Yep, that’s the sum total of my excuse.

To my credit—and it’s not much—I have a number of times posted on Facebook that I keep a running list of books read since October 2009. Okay, more than once. Maybe fewer than 3 times. Just titles and authors, and cleverly an (F) if the work is fiction. No ratings, no commentary, no quotations.

Helpful, huh? Interested in the list? Curious about my tastes? Ask for it via the comments section for this post or send me a message via Facebook. Yes, I will cull the nonfiction titles for you if you prefer. Helpful, yes?

In a fit of guilt this past week, I did rate a few novels on Amazon. A minor fit. More of an impulse. Less than an urge. Just something I did in the moment.

Like now—last four novels read, with comments:

The Queue – Aziz: Egypt, dystopian, disheartening, shrewd

The Association of Small Bombs – Mahajan: India, terrorism, families, shrewd

The Sympathizer – Nguyen: Vietnam, double agents, violence, shrewd

Gould’s Book of Fish – Flanagan: Tasmania, wit, wisdom, shrewd

Beach reads? No. Good reads? Yes. By the way, I think the Flanagan novel a work of whimsical genius. And that can’t be a good sign for the other 99% of the population. My mother’s theory is simple: If I like it, it’s doomed, and when I don’t, it’s a winner.

Now as for being linked, or not, it does trouble me that of late the folks at Linkedin are asking via email if I know myself. Usually a list of someone I do know, someone I don’t know, and then there I am. Do I know myself? Oh, they really don’t want to go there with me.

And how is that someone that I am fairly certain I don’t know is touting my leadership skills? Like leading my dog on a leash during the daily walks? It’s an office of one here, People! Okay, and the dog.

As for connections, yikes! Some of these individuals have real jobs in real workplaces where people keep track of stuff like productivity, sales quotas, medicines, or cost overruns. Me? I’m just hanging out with a dog on a nice piece of property and doing some reading and less writing.

When I do help friends or family, usually I am driving a load of stuff to the dump, or working as unskilled labor, or moving a piece of furniture. The jobs that are sent from Linkedin to me based on my skillset are utterly fantastic as in no basis in reality. None. Nada. Zip. Zilch.

I run a limited media presence here at Camp Reflection. No, I don’t snap or chat. Yes, I use Facebook—mostly just pictures and chitter-chatter.

No need to read between the lines. Tag me among the reading unskilled. Happily so.