Humble Magniloquence (Purdy Words in Primary Sources)

March 3, 2017June 4, 2023 ~ Blue Cereal

There are folks you expect to write all fancy. Poets, for example. Certain flavors of novelists. Artsy musician types. George Will.

Education bloggers, not so much.

That’s just as well. Rhetorical flourish is a tricky business. Like cilantro, it can add unexpectedly welcome flavor and complexity, or make an entire passage taste like old soap. And language evolves in such unpredictable fashion that you can never be sure how that bit of clever wordplay might read a generation or two later.

Some historical figures clearly labored over word choice with sufficient fervor that even their personal letters play like Dvorak’s lost drinking songs. Consider Thomas Jefferson in a letter to fellow Virginian and Founding Father-type Edmund Pendleton, dated August 26, 1776:

You seem to have misapprehended my proposition for the choice of a Senate. I had two things in view: to get the wisest men chosen, and to make them perfectly independent when chosen. I have ever observed that a choice by the people themselves is not generally distinguished for its wisdom.

They’ve apparently been corresponding about politics – no surprise there, given the parties and the date. Jefferson proffers a sophisticated balance of Enlightened precision and dry wit. His understatement is both amusing and a tad vain.

Then again, he was Thomas Jefferson – so maybe we can let him slide on the latter.

This first secretion from them is usually crude and heterogeneous. But give to those so chosen by the people a second choice themselves, and they generally will chuse wise men.

He’s proposing what was essentially an electoral college for selecting Senators. That’s not how we ended up doing it, although until the 17th Amendment Senators were chosen by their States rather than the people directly, providing a comparable filter. What’s golden here, though, is the straight-faced use of slug imagery in reference to the common man and democracy.

Jefferson was an idealist – he genuinely believed a nation of ever-revolutionary small farmers was as close to heaven on earth as mankind could ever approach. And he does get there – “they generally will chuse wise men.” It’s just that the process, in his mind, must be carefully designed to accommodate those initial “crude secretions.”

Is it sad that I’m eternally entertained by phrases like that? On second thought, don’t answer that.

Later in the same letter, Jefferson considers the issue who is or is not qualified to vote or hold office.

You have lived longer than I have and perhaps may have formed a different judgment on better grounds; but my observations do not enable me to say I think integrity the characteristic of wealth.

Again with the understatement, this time combined with a purely rhetorical deference to his cohort.

In general I believe the decisions of the people, in a body, will be more honest and more disinterested than those of wealthy men: and I can never doubt an attachment to his country in any man who has his family and peculium in it.

‘Peculium’ here means ‘stuff’. It’s one of those vocabulary words that gives my kids fits. It’s rare enough that it’s not always in student dictionaries and it gives them nothing to work with in terms of root words or prefixes or whatnot. It does, however, come up again in evolved form in President Jackson’s speech to Congress on Indian Removal in 1830:

The consequences of a speedy removal will be important to the United States, to individual States, and to the Indians themselves. The pecuniary advantages which it promises to the Government are the least of its recommendations…

It’s the same Latin root as ‘peculiar’ – uncommon, or distinctive. Go back far enough and it suggests property belonging or assigned to a specific person. Suddenly what seem like unrelated definitions start to make sense. ‘Peculium’ = someone’s stuff. ‘Pecuniary’ = related to wealth. ‘Peculiar’ = weird. All from ‘distinctive,’ but said fancy.

Which is, if you think about it, rather fitting, given the definitions.

Sometimes what grabs your attention is simply the way language changes over time:

The fantastical idea of virtue and the public good being a sufficient security to the state against the commission of crimes, which you say you have heard insisted on by some, I assure you was never mine. It is only the sanguinary hue of our penal laws which I meant to object to. Punishments I know are necessary, and I would provide them, strict and inflexible, but proportioned to the crime.

Good Lord, Tom – gasconade, much?

Still, how can you not love “sanguinary hue”? So highbrow, yet so graphic. My students, of course, are completely derailed by ‘penal laws’ and rarely manage to return to the richness of the phrase preceding it. Because, you know, they’re 14. Literally.

But that’s Jefferson – a known intellectual and proud froo-froo. He was, after all, the guy to whom a bunch of other smart people turned when it was time to boldly-but-nobly declare our breakup with England. “We hold these truths to be self-evident” and all that.

I’ve been compiling primary sources on David L. Payne and the “boomer” movement lately – an important part of Oklahoma and American history, to be sure, but not a group you might assume prompted much purdy talkifying. And yet, a century after the lofty rhetoric of the Founders and their ilk, we find the most interesting phraseology in humble local newspapers when he’s discussed.

From The Sedalia Weekly Bazoo, Sedalia, MO (August 24, 1880):

Capt. L. D. Payne, arrested for an alleged violation of the federal laws governing intercourse with the Indian territory west of Arkansas…

Yeah, sometimes it’s not the fancy talk so much as it is the repeated use of words like “intercourse.” Again, 14.

…arrived Thursday at Fort Smith in custody of the United Marshal and will be tried before Judge Parker, of the western district court of Arkansas, whose jurisdiction covers Oklahoma…
The question to be decided in it is whether or not for the present white settlers shall be barred from that territory, which includes some of the most fertile land in the world, and that land be used only by nomadic tribes who will not cultivate and develop its resource; whether it shall be a farm or a hunting-ground; an abode of civilization or savagery; a garden or a wild.

My my! Of course, major media back then tended to more openly editorial. They weren’t all fair and balanced like we’ve come to expect today.

From The Weekly Kansas Chief, Troy, KS (May 05, 1881):

A private dispatch was received by Oklahoma Payne in this city yesterday, announcing an unfavorable result of his trial before the United States court at Fort Smith. The faces of a number of men who had gathered to his headquarters in response to a call for a meeting to-day visibly lengthened…
{Payne} made a full statement of his arrest and trial and the formal announcement of the result, but urged the settlers to stand by their organization until victory should crown their efforts…

That bit of divine flourish may have reflected Payne’s speech rather than the reporter’s biases, but still…

And I like the “visibly lengthened” faces by way of description. It reminds me of the way sportscasters come up with hundreds of ways to say “ran,” “scored,” “failed,” or “wow.”

There were eighty-seven present at the meeting… Resolutions were reported from a committee and adopted urging Payne to renew his efforts at affecting a lodgment in territory; criticising the place of Payne’s trial, and asking a change of venue. After which the great Oklahoma boom collapsed.

Funny how concise can convey so much dismissiveness. Also, “his efforts at affecting a lodgment”? I chuckle thereforth.

From the Omaha Daily Bee, Omaha, NE (November 30, 1881):

Out of the active brain and adventurous spirit of Capt. Dave Payne, known in border life and drama as the Scout of the Cimarron, grew the project known as the Oklahoma colony, scheme. And that scheme is the settlement of the lands belonging to the government of the United States, a vast body of fine arable land in the Indian Territory, on the north fork of the Canadian river.

This reads less like the first paragraph of a newspaper report and more like a pitch for a TV miniseries starring Brian Keith and Rob Schneider in his dramatic comeback role.

The project of planting a white colony in the very heart of the Indian Nation was at first regarded with indifference and afterwards with absolute ridicule; but to those who personally know Capt. Payne, and know him as he is, this project is not the dream of a fanatic. To them Payne is fostering no wild, filibustering scheme, nor lawlessly defying the government of the United States. Capt. Payne is a man of ability and legislative experience…
He is thoroughly conversant with Indian customs, manners, and warfare, skilled in woodcraft, and the peer of any marksman on the border with the rifle. His courage never was questioned. He is a giant in stature and a marvel in strength. Such, then, is a pen-picture of Capt. Dave Payne—”Oklahoma” Payne as he is now called…

I confess I mostly just like the created term, “pen-picture.”

The Kansas City Journal, quoted by The Wichita City Eagle, Wichita, KS (May 25, 1882):

“…if Payne and his followers would display one-half the energy and perseverance in tilling a few acres of Kansas soil as they do in getting a foothold in the Indian Territory, they would have no cause to complain of impecuniosity.

Isn’t it funny how once you know a strange new word, you seem to come across it, or its variations, everywhere? Impecuniosity…? Expialidocious!

It is a too common fault of the Indolent and shiftless that they nurse their idleness by dreams of something just beyond their reach. The farmer who by poor management finds it impossible to accumulate even a small store of money for a rainy day, is often found making elaborate calculations for selling out and removing to the Pacific coast; whereas, if he would devote as much money to the comfort of himself and family or to the improvement of his farm or stock, as it would cost him to remove his family to Oregon or Washington Territory, he would be much the wiser.”

Don’t hold back, Kansas. What do you really think of the boomers?

From The New York Times, New York, NY (February 03, 1883):

The language of PAYNE’S circular glows with adjectives and promises. The beautiful land of Oklahoma is “the garden spot, the Eden of modern times.” “Come,” says PAYNE, “and go with us to this beautiful land and secure for yourself and children homes in the richest most beautiful and best country that the Great Creator in His Goodness, has made for man.” But the circular fails to convey with sufficient clearness the information that this garden spot is no more open to settlement by PAYNE and his colonists than are the Central Park and Boston Common. The Territory belongs to the Indians and is secured to them by treaties.

That’s a nice analogy, the park thing. It plays off of Payne’s Eden imagery, while offering a sharp rhetorical contrast. His ideas are diminished and refuted by the sudden downshift in language. Sweet!

PAYNE has been taken by the nape of the neck once already and pitched out of the Territory. If he carries out his announced intention and the Government does its duty, he will be pitched out again and the foolish citizens who allow themselves to be inveigled into an unlawful enterprise by his fine promises will get into serious trouble.

“Now, Junior – don’t be getting inveigled into no unlawful enterprises!”

My absolute favorite, though, is less about vocabulary and more about structure and tone. It’s also from The New York Times, this time on April 9, 1891:

Topeka, Kan., April 8.- Is Oklahoma really overrun with negroes, and has there been an influx of pauper negroes from the South? So many conflicting answers have been given in response to these two questions that it was impossible to arrive at the truth…
In order to determine the truth, THE TIMES’s representative determined to visit the Territory and see what was to be seen, and to learn from interested persons as much of the truth as they could be prevailed upon to surrender. Those who have never attempted to draw the truth from an Oklahomaite can hardly realize the difficulties that are presented.

Imagine, if you can, a day and age in which the Times was periodically a tad opinionated about such things.

And… “Oklahomaite”?

The Territory was born in falsehood, was baptized in falsehood, and falsehood has been the principal article of diet ever since that fateful 23rd day of April, 1889, when the “sooners” became the leading citizens of a country opened to settlement too late in the year for the planting of crops, and to which the poverty-stricken were invited by speculators and impecunious lawyers…

OH-MY-GOD-ARE-VARIATIONS-OF-THAT-WORD-GOING-TO-BE-EVERYWHERE-NOW?!?! Was it trending that century or something?

…who had been permitted to enter beforehand by a pig-headed Administration, which could see nothing good outside the ague-stricken Wabash bottoms of Indiana.

That last bit is a jab at President Benjamin Harrison. While I’m sorry for the ghost of the man who officially opened up O.T. to white settlement, I can’t help but experience mild rapture at any outburst involving “ague-stricken Wabash bottoms.”

*snort*

I actually love this whole piece enough that I wrote at length about it here and here, and even transcribed it in its entirety. For now, though, I’m well-past my own self-imposed rambling limits and have said far too little with far too many words of my own.

I assure you that I rue this impecunious, if epiphenomenal, imbroglio.

Nope – doesn’t really work when I try it. Oh well.

RELATED POST: Defining Moments

Defining Moments

January 1, 2017June 4, 2023 ~ Blue Cereal ~ 1 Comment

Only a few paragraphs into “The Adventure of the Speckled Band,” Sherlock Holmes awakens Watson with an alarming comment:

“Very sorry to knock you up, Watson,” said he, “but it’s the common lot this morning. Mrs. Hudson has been knocked up, she retorted upon me, and I on you.”
“What is it, then – a fire?”
“No; a client. It seems that a young lady has arrived in a considerable state of excitement, who insists upon seeing me…”

For Mrs. Hudson – the widowed landlady – to have been “knocked up” was bad enough. That Holmes could so briskly do the same to Watson was particularly troubling, especially with an excited young lady waiting.

It soon gets weirder:

The ejaculation had been drawn from my companion by the fact that our door had been suddenly dashed open, and that a huge man had framed himself in the aperture. His costume was a peculiar mixture of the professional and of the agricultural, having a black top-hat, a long frock-coat, and a pair of high gaiters, with a hunting-crop swinging in his hand…

So Holmes’ tastes seem to have run a bit Village People or Steam Punk. Fair enough.

This is not the only time Arthur Conan Doyle seems to be telling a very different sort of detective story than we typically associate with his iconic characters. Consider this scene from “The Man With The Twisted Lip”:

In the dim light of the lamp I saw him sitting there, an old briar pipe between his lips, his eyes fixed vacantly upon the corner of the ceiling, the blue smoke curling up from him, silent, motionless, with the light shining upon his strong-set aquiline features. So he sat as I dropped off to sleep, and so he sat when a sudden ejaculation caused me to wake up… The pipe was still between his lips, the smoke still curled upward, and the room was full of a dense tobacco haze, but nothing remained of the heap of shag which I had seen upon the previous night.
”Awake, Watson?” he asked.
”Yes.”
”Game for a morning drive?”
”Certainly.”
”Then dress… I know where the stable-boy sleeps, and we shall soon have the trap out.” He chuckled to himself as he spoke, his eyes twinkled, and he seemed a different man…

Now THAT’S a party.

These are, of course, completely distorted and unfair readings of the texts. Whatever tawdriness may occur within these pages, it’s rarely the world’s favorite detective at fault. Our dear narrator Watson likewise seems noble enough throughout – no matter how many times he ejaculates.

Which he does a LOT, by his own reports.

The issue is language. It evolves over time, and without proper framing we’re easily led astray. A word like “aquiline” doesn’t throw us too badly. We probably don’t know what it means (“like an eagle,” especially in reference to the shape of one’s nose), but we know that we don’t. There’s no misunderstanding because we don’t understand to begin with.

Other terms, like “knocked up,” are more easily misread, having accumulated other meanings with which we may be familiar. The use of “shag” or “trap” wouldn’t automatically raise eyebrows, but by the time everyone’s ejaculating everywhere and the landlady is pregnant, we’ve formed a new context into which they’re easily inserted.

Er… as it were.

Sexual words aren’t the only sort which evolve, of course. Consider a trio of insults generally avoided in polite company: moron, imbecile, and idiot.

In the early 20th century, American psychiatrist and eugenicist Henry H. Goddard was very interested in “feeble-mindedness” and its impact on democracy and American culture. He helped popularize IQ Tests in the U.S., and assigned categories to various ranges of scores thereon.

A score of 75 or higher indicated “normal” intelligence or above. It generally takes 100+ to successfully complete four years of college.

A person in the range of 50 – 75 was labeled a “moron,” a term Goddard coined from the Greek “moros” – i.e., “dull.” This equated to a mental age of roughly 8 – 12 years old.

An IQ score of 25 – 50 made you an “imbecile.” This term already existed, but was now specifically applied towards those considered unable and unqualified to make certain decisions for themselves. The American Eugenics movement of the early 20th century pushed for sterilization of folks in this category – an idea embraced by the Progressive Movement (a detail generally omitted from our textbooks) as part of their overall effort to improve society.

The potential of eugenics – including selective sterilization – was gaining momentum in the U.S. when some little German fellow whose name escapes me took the idea and ran wild with it, taking much of his country with him. We don’t talk about it since then – at least not openly. We obscure it in indirect language and distorted words.

An IQ of 0 – 25 earned you the moniker “idiot.” In popular usage, a “dunce” was an idiot who simply couldn’t learn, while an “ignoramus” was someone who hadn’t learned anything yet. Both are different from a “fool,” who was unwise rather than uneducated, or a “cretin” – the oldest of these terms. “Cretinism” was specifically biological in nature, and often a result of iodine deficiency.

That’s right – the stuff they put in salt. There’s a metaphor in there somewhere, right?

Goddard’s rankings meant that someone accused of being an idiot might reply with pride that he was, in fact, an imbecile! Of course, he might then be one-upped by any vain morons nearby.

None of these words are used scientifically today. They were replaced by “mildly retarded,” “retarded,” and “profoundly retarded,” which in turn fell out of favor and were supplanted by even gentler terminology. Given how quickly kids were slamming each other as “specially-abled,” it’s unlikely to stop there.

Language changes, and context matters.

“He’s a queer sort of fellow” is borderline offensive in 2017, but meant something completely different a few generations ago. “We’ll have a gay old time” would make for a very different Flintstones in 2017 than it did in 1962, and “we’ll all be gay when Johnny comes marching home” could go all kinds of directions. (Insert usual disclaimers here.)

When Ben Franklin wrote to his frustrated nephew in 1745 about dealing with his “violent natural inclinations,” the issue was lust, not serial killing. He first encouraged him to marry. “But if you will not take this Counsel, and persist in thinking a Commerce with the Sex inevitable,” Franklin continues, “then I repeat my former Advice…”

It’s easy to infer that Franklin’s nephew had been turning to prostitutes for relief. But “commerce” in this case simply meant “interaction” and “the sex” referred to women – as in the opposite sex, the fairer sex, etc. His nephew may have been fooling around, but he wasn’t paying for it.

I’m not sure if that’s better or worse, but it’s different.

If I reference a “fag,” do I want a cigarette? A bundle of sticks? My British man-servant? Maybe I’m just exhausted – although that would be “fagged.” Or am I hoping to get into a fight with a homosexual? It’s all about context and intent.

“Damn the torpedoes” meant to ignore the dangers of underwater mines. Avoiding a draft might require closing the window, hiding from the army, or refusing to edit a post that just won’t come together. And while you may not be ready for this jelly, thinking you are might get you into quite a jam.

I remind my students regularly to pay attention to how language is used – and with what intent. Meanings can be malleable, and context matters.

Of course, in all of these examples, definitions diversified naturally.The words evolved organically. The reasons vary, but none were manipulated with the goal of deceiving the listener or reader. Doyle wasn’t making sly sex jokes through Holmes, and while calling someone an “imbecile” may be cruel, it’s done with the intention they’ll understand what you mean.

Sometimes, though, language is used in confusing ways on purpose. Words are redefined to deceive or distract, to willfully muddle the issues involved. The technical term for this is stercore excretum – and it’s quite popular in legislative rhetoric and education reform these days. As useful as it is to recognize words whose function naturally varies over time, it’s even more important to question and clarify language used in unnaturally altered ways.

If something is proposed in the name of, say, “religious freedom,” what does that mean? Which religions? What kinds of freedom? Does “freedom” in this case mean “freedom”? Or does it mean “less freedom for you and more social and political power for me,” only dressed up to sound noble?

“School choice” is trendy these days. But what sort of “choice,” exactly? And whose? The schools? Parents? Students? The answers matter.

“Education Savings Accounts”? Are they savings accounts intended to be used for education? Or are they something completely different we’re intentionally obscuring – like calling Twinkies a “professional health management system”?

In government, budget “cuts” are sometimes increases, and “increases” are sometimes cuts. “Refusing to bow to political correctness” is the latest reframing of a childish lack of impulse control and zero accountability for being an ass. Context matters – and so does intent.

Expect brand new definitions of “pay raises” for Oklahoma teachers this session, alongside some creative new meanings for “compromise,” “serious effort,” and “valuing public education.”

It will be like another Christmas, but all the presents are old broken crap that used to be yours anyway, given back to you in recycled wrapping with glitter vomited all over it. You’ll then be expected to demonstrate a new definition of “thankful” and pay for everything yourself in the name of “acting like a professional.”

Yipee-ki-yay, #OklaEd.

We probably can’t change what’s coming. Voters recently redefined “holding out for a better plan” to mean “$%&@ those teachers,” and that will have consequences.

But let’s at least fight for clarity in 2017. Let’s insist on precise definitions and shine as much light as we can on intentions and context and discarded knowledge. If we can’t stop those in power from “helping” and “leading” in 2017, let’s at least make them call stuff what it is along the way.

Koko the Gorilla

July 7, 2014June 4, 2023 ~ Blue Cereal ~ 1 Comment

Koko the gorilla, now over 40 years old, was taught sign language from the time she was a wee little fuzzball, and has been studied ever since. She understands a surprising amount of spoken English and even more ASL, and she signs extensively in response to either. She’s sometimes referenced when animal rights are discussed, and essential when the evolution and uses of language are being analyzed. Apparently she can sometimes be quite innovative in her communication.

On the other hand, well… she’s somewhat limited by the fact that – and I feel almost cruel saying this…

She’s a monkey.

Yes, I know she’s not technically a monkey. I’ve seen enough Planet of the Apes movies to know they’re touchy about those distinctions. But if she’s more than a monkey, she’s not quite a people either. She’s a gorilla doing the best she can to hear, watch, and express herself to people who are not her – people who are not even gorillas. Koko provokes some interesting questions about what it means to be sentient, whether certain basic civil rights should be extended to animals, and exactly how many different roles Roddy McDowell could play in one franchise before it became self-parody – none of which are why I find her so fascinating.

She is, to me, a hairy metaphor of something more tangible – an appropriated symbol for something near and dear to my innards:

Koko is why the ‘liberal arts’ matter in education.

I’m all for STEM education, actual future employment, beating the Russians to the moon – all of it. Some of my best friends are math & science teachers (not really, but it seemed like something I should say), and some of my best students are on promising courses to change the world through engineering and biotechnology and Mandelbrot Sets and whatever the hell it is they do once they move into math that doesn’t even use numbers and letters anymore.

As we press into this brave new world, however, I’d like to revisit some reasons non-STEM subjects matter, not just for the sickly pale artistic types, but all students:

1. Right-brain stuff helps you do better left-brain stuff, and vice versa. In practice this means mathematicians are mathier when they also partake of music, science-ish types do better science when they’re stimulated by history or watercolors or e e cummings, etc. The liberal arts and the arts arts are good for the things that aren’t arts.

2. Even people with real jobs (apparently in about ten years this will mean primarily engineers, medical professionals, and iPhone app developers) need to know how to read effectively and communicate clearly in order to do their real job stuff well.

3. Everyone has some magical special gift which must be discovered, nurtured, blah blah blah. In other words, something must keep us in touch with our souls. (Cue violins and rapidly moving clouds.)

4. If we don’t study history, we won’t know how to best manipulate and conquer people while blaming them for the results.

5. We must recapture – and I don’t know how to say this without being kinda cheezy – we must recapture a mindset of reaching beyond our condition, not merely enduring it.

Teacher: What’s an insult? Koko: THINK DEVIL DIRTY
Teacher: [spoken only] What’s an injury? Koko: THERE BITE (to a cut on her hand)
Teacher: What is crazy? Koko: TROUBLE SURPRISE
Teacher: When do people say darn? Koko: WORK OBNOXIOUS
Teacher: What can you think of that’s hard? Koko: ROCK… WORK.
Teacher: What’s a smart gorilla? Koko: ME.

Technical understanding of language allows us to accurately describe what is, or could be – tangible, literal, objective reality. Very important. But a mature understanding of language allows us to use words built on the literal and reach higher than what we can see, hear, or measure. Here’s a paragraph from one of the studies done on dear Koko:

A conversation with Koko that involved this kind of creativity with the sign ‘rotten’… Koko demonstrated the standard form of the sign in an exchange of insults after her companion called her a ‘stinker.’ Koko then inflected the sign by using two hands (perhaps meaning ‘really rotten’) and in the same sequence, brought the sign off her nose toward her companion, conveying the idea ‘you’re really rotten.’ Koko’s use of rotten in this conversation also demonstrates her grasp of the connotation of a word rather than its denotation or concrete or specific meaning.

The objective value of knowledge matters, but the subjective and symbolic value sometimes matters more.

These invented signs indicate that the gorillas, like human children, take initiative with language by making up new words and by giving new meanings to old words. On the next level, there is evidence that Koko… can generate novel names by combining two or more familiar words. For instance, Koko signed ‘bottle match’ to refer to a cigarette lighter, ‘white tiger’ for a zebra, and ‘eye hat’ for a mask. Michael has generated similar combinations, such as ‘orange flower sauce’ for nectarine yogurt and ‘bean ball’ for peas. Other examples… are ‘elephant baby’ for a Pinocchio doll and ‘bottle necklace’ for a six-pack soda can holder…

We should learn all we can learn and know all we can know, but that’s not where it ends. Language and stories and art (yes, she does art) and teachers push Koko – and us – to do more than solve a puzzle to get a banana. Under their influence she strives to understand more than can be understood, and to be more than she is.

It’s not a technical problem, it is – for lack of better verbage – a spiritual quest, a stretching of the proverbial soul. Lest you think I exaggerate:

Some responses, on the other hand, are quite unexpected. “How did you sleep last night?” (expecting ‘fine’, ‘bad’, or some related response.) ‘FLOOR BLANKET.’ (Koko sleeps on the floor with blankets.) “How do you like your blankets to feel?” ‘HOT KOKO-LOVE.’ “What happened?” (after an earthquake). ‘DARN DARN FLOOR BAD BITE. TROUBLE TROUBLE.’

Wikipedia defines an ‘earthquake’ as ““the result of a sudden release of energy in the Earth’s crust that creates seismic waves. The… seismic activity of an area refers to the frequency, type and size of earthquakes experienced over a period of time… At the Earth’s surface, earthquakes manifest themselves by shaking and sometimes displacement of the ground.”

That’s a pretty important thing to understand, especially if you live in a world with earthquakes. But what Koko tried to capture was – I’d argue – pretty important as well:

Darn Darn Floor Bad Bite. Trouble Trouble.

That’s an earthquake alright. If you’ve experienced or even observed an earthquake, it makes good sense. In some ways, it’s better than the technical definition.

It’s experiential, it’s emotional, it’s loaded with metaphorical implications. By stretching to capture something she technically lacks the intelligence, the language, the experiences, the paradigm to explain, Koko touches important truths that would never have been brushed up against otherwise. Not just nice words, not just pretty ideas, not just nourishment for the soul – implications and realities that matter greatly if you’re ever going to be in an earthquake or live in a universe where earthquakes exist. Maybe even if you don’t.

That’s what we’re trying to inculcate and nurture in the so-called ‘social studies’ and ‘language arts’ and all those other classes which are too often defended only for their roles in promoting ‘reading and writing’ or ‘critical thinking’ skills. That a subject might have wider utilitarian purpose is great, but that doesn’t mean that should be its exclusive or even its primary purpose. If we believe otherwise, we need to take down all of those ‘reach for the stars’ posters and replace them with ‘more accurately measure and label the stars’, and at least be consistent.

Obviously it’s important that we be able to solve the technical challenges of coming days, and press forward on scientific, mathematical, and otherwise tangible frontiers we can’t even imagine yet. I’m a big fan of curing diseases, feeding the world through aeroponics, and whatever The Elder Scrolls VII will look like. But what shall it profit us if we gain the whole giga-world, and lose our proverbial souls?

And yes, that’s cheesy. I’m wincing a bit even as I type it. Like Koko, I lack the words or ability to capture it better, so I’m doing what I can to approximate what I almost conceive. Don’t mock me, or I’ll fling my poo at you.