areaman

“Toronto area man accused in multiple robberies.” “Minneapolis area man missing after flood.” “Calgary area man struck by pickup truck.” “Dayton area man wanted in gas-and-go.”

Boy, what is it with these area men? They all seem to be ne’er-do-wells and schlimazels.

“Area man” is such a staple in journalism that it has become a staple of the parody news source The Onion. In The Onion, he’s typically a local person of no account who has an ill-founded opinion, or thinks something is important that really isn’t, or just keeps running into the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to.

If there were an opposite of a superhero – not an antihero, not a villain with superpowers, but just a basic loser – Areaman would be a good name for him.

What if I told you it already was? Continue reading

shurt

I was thinking about washing my running clothes, and about how I separate the shirts and the shorts, and then, as one does to pass the time idly, I started reflecting on how shirt and short are only a typo apart – indeed, the distinction between them is between two adjacent letters on the keyboard. And those letters are and O, which resemble the international symbols for ‘on’ and ‘off’ and, for that matter, the two digits that make everything digital work, including (of course) the computer that I’m writing this on and the one that you’re reading this on and everything between them.

My mind wanders. It’s peripatetic, just like the rest of me. I go running for exercise but also because I like to travel through places. So it’s only natural that, to shorten the time (especially if I’m feeling shirty), I’ll wander from short to shirt to… well, shurt is the next if I shunt to the left. So, obviously, I look it up. Continue reading

torpid, torpor

The dogged daze of summer is here, the time when it is so torrid you feel stupid. The very air seems to torque with an opalescent, opaque moisture, and even as the empyrean unleashes torrents you are in a stupor. It is torpid, and you are in torpor.

This is not to say that torpidity is native to summer. For hibernators, winter is the season of torpor. But humans are, if anything, estivators. We lie on the beach like canids; we compound our heat intoxication with umbrella drinks and tall cans; we import a purportedly tropical turpitude; we drink of lethe and are lethargic; we are numb, but comfortably so. Continue reading

Boxcar Social back patio (Yonge Street)

Come this way…

Listen to the podcast of this coffice space review on Patreon.

It’s cicada season. You know, the heat buzzer insect. It sounds like an old-fashioned oven timer when the air outside feels like an old-fashioned oven. On days like this, inside is not always where you want to be. Especially when inside has no air conditioning. Continue reading

karod

It’s just amazing how much money you can throw away with no return for no damn good reason.

Some of it is just lost coins in your couch, change dropped on the street, maybe a dollar you see disappearing through a sewer grate… maybe a twenty blown into the lake. Ouch.

Some of it is theatre tickets you forgot about. “When was that show?” [Checks tickets] “Um… two days ago.” Some of it is hotel or airline bookings made for the wrong day or the wrong place and not discovered until too late. Ouch!

For some people or companies, some of it is due to a misplaced comma or decimal in a contract. Now, that can really hurt. Continue reading

You know you want more!

Psst. Hey. Want something extra special?

Since 2008, I’ve posted more than 2,400 articles for free on Sesquiotica; more than a million visitors have come to read them, and more than 17,500 people have subscribed for free. They include word tasting notes, articles on grammar, serialized fiction, and my new series on coffee joints to sit and work in. I’ve also been making videos such as my pronunciation tips, which you can find here and on YouTube. But why stop at that? Continue reading

The Good Neighbour (Bloor Street)

Everyone’s here to drink coffee and do work

Listen to the audio version of this on Patreon.

There are ten two-person wooden tables in The Good Neighbour on Bloor east of Christie and, as I sit here, eight of them are occupied, each by one person, each person facing towards the window (or, in the case of the four side-facing ones, away from the wall), and all but two of them have a MacBook open – and those two are looking at phones and pads. Almost everyone has an iPhone on their table too. The music is pleasant and nondistracting (unless you strongly dislike folk or mid-century schmalz). This is a coffice space. Continue reading

versute

“The cabal of the versute gens de condition resorting to social evils necessitates some sui generis safeguards to be inherent in social laws to make up for the nether social position of the wronged person and checkmate the malengine and pravity of the powerful.” Continue reading

Let’s do the time Whorf again

Every so often, someone in a field such as economics comes up with something that seems to suggest that the language we use can affect how we think and even how we act. I’m not talking about obvious things (such as “How do you get 50 Canadians out of a swimming pool? You say, ‘Everyone please get out of the pool.’”). I mean what if, for instance, our grammar affected how we save for the future? What if our perception of time is conditioned by our language?

And all the linguists roll their eyes and say, “Whorf.” They’ve been down this road before. They reach for the mute button.

But what if both sides are overreacting a bit?

Read my latest article for the BBC:

Can language slow down time?

Balzac’s (Ryerson)

IMG_8350

(Mac)book, coffee, view.

Listen to this coffice space review (complete with ambient noise from the actual place) on Patreon.

Balzac’s is a local chain of coffee joints. They’re very popular and they make good coffee in all its wondrous forms. They have delicious snacks, too – I recommend the big peanut-butter parallelepipeds. And their locations are all nice looking, each in its own way. There are at least three of their outposts in walking distance from me, depending on what you consider walking distance. But I don’t often go to them to sit and work – especially not to the two nearest me. Continue reading