Word: Eristic

eristic

[e-ris-tik]

adjective

1. Also, eristical. pertaining to controversy or disputation; controversial.

noun

2. a person who engages in disputation; controversialist.

3. the art of disputation.

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               “So, college, huh?” Peter said, looking over his younger brother’s shoulder.

                “Yup.” Mike replied as he continued filling out the application.

                “That’s cool.  College can be pretty awesome if you really take advantage of it.”

                “So I’ve heard.”

                “So, what’re you going into?”

                “I think biology for now.  Probably genetic studies as either a minor or a double major.  I’m not sure about that yet.”

                Peter let out a low whistle.  “That’s some pretty heavy stuff.  What’re you planning on being after college?”

                “I’m going to try and enter into stem cell research for medical science.”

                Peter took in a quick breath through clenched teeth.  “Are you sure about that?”

                “Yup.  It’s a world changing field that’s the future of medicine.”

                “Yeah, I know that.  But are you really, really sure?”

                Mike swiveled around in the chair to look at his brother skeptically, “Yes, I’m sure.  Why?”

                “Well, for one thing, how will you pay for it?  I mean, it’s not like Mom and Dad will.  And that’s if they let you go for that at all.”

                “Mom and Dad won’t say anything.”

                “Really?  Mike, you’re a smart guy.  Think about it.  Do you really think our parents, our bible thumping, anti-vaccine, anti-abortion parents will really approve of you going into stem cell research.”

                “No, of course not.  They hate the very idea of it.”

                “Exactly.  So, what do you think they’ll say when they find out their own son is entering something they consider the devil’s work?”

                “Oh they’ll be furious.  They’ll probably ban me from any form of education, and probably take away all forms of electronic devices from me.”

                “Uh huh, and that’s if they’re in a good mood when you tell them.  So what makes you think they’ll let you do this?”

                “They won’t.  But that’s only if they find out.”

                “Oh?”

                “Who said I was going to tell them what my ultimate goal is?” Mike said with a confident smile. 

                “Do tell.” Peter leaned against a nearby wall and crossed his arms, waiting to hear his brother’s plan.

                “I’m not going to tell them my goal.  I’m going to tell them I want to be a doctor.  It’s not even a lie, since I’ll be getting my doctorate at some point.  Just because they’ll be thinking a medical doctor is in no way my fault.”

                “Yet you’re not going into pre-med, which will be a bit tip off, even for our folks.”

                “Do you really think they know the college process?  Dad never went to college and Mom went to some bible college.  They have no idea how the rest of the world does things.  I just have to tell them that bio is something that all doctors have to major in before they can get into the medical program.  You know, like a really long, drawn out prerequisite.  Knowing them, they’ll believe it and be fine with it.”

                Peter thought about that for a moment.  “I’m not sure it’ll work out as well as you think it will.  You might be underestimating what Mom and Dad know.”

                “Don’t worry, I have a backup plan.”

                “Which is?”

                “Get a job to pay for it myself and apply anyway.  They might be able to take away my stuff, but they can’t keep me away from the library and a job, now can they?”

                Peter broke out into a wide grin.  “No, no they cannot.”

                “See?  It’ll all work out. I’ll just have to deal with not being invited to any family gatherings, and you know how I feel about those.”

                “I don’t know, there might be some things you miss out on.  Like the reactions everyone else has to your demon major.”

                “You’ll just have to take pictures then, won’t you?”

                “I’ll do my best.  Now, get back to work.  And don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul.”

                He meant it to.  After all, this was too good to just go on and blab about.  He was already looking forward to posting the reaction videos online.   

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You will always do something that will make someone else mad.  You might not know who the person you're angering is, and they might not know you, but someone, somewhere is mad at you, or would be if they knew you.  The best thing you can do is either ignore the person or just learn to deal with it. You can try arguing, but that doesn't always work very well, depending on who you're making mad.

Word: Circumbendibus

circumbendibus

[sur-kuh m-ben-duh-buh s]

noun, plural circumbendibuses. Informal.

1. a roundabout way; circumlocution.

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Ted knew there was something wrong.  The moment he checked his phone, he knew what it was.

                “Where are you going, dad?” He asked.

“What’re you talking about?  I’m going to your aunt’s house, of course.” Was the reply.

“Not according my phone’s map, it’s not.”

“What’s a phone know about driving?  Nothing, that’s what.” The old man replied.

“Maybe not about driving, but it sure knows a lot more about navigating than you do.”

His dad huffed and kept driving, pulling to a brief stop at a stop sign before moving on.

“How could it?” He asked.  “It’s piece of expensive plastic and glass.”

“Yeah, well, this piece of plastic and glass is telling me you’re taking the longest, most roundabout route there is.”

“That thing doesn’t know what it’s talking about.  This is the best way to go.”

“Yeah, no.  Phones these days are pretty good, dad.  Mine, for instance, has all the latest maps and road info on it.  And trust me, this is not the best way to go.”

“Really now?  Well, I’ve got a map too, right here.”  He pointed to his head just before rounding a corner.  “And mine doesn’t run out of power.”

“That’s debatable.” Ted said under his breath.  If his dad heard the comment, he did not respond. 

“Trust me, son, I’ve been driving this route since before you were born.  This is the fastest, most direct route there is.”

“Yeah, maybe it was thirty years ago, but not anymore.  The route I have on my phone’s map shows you can get there in less than half the time.  I mean it.  This way takes, what, forty minutes?  Well you can get there in fifteen by using newer, more direct roads.”

“You’re making that up.” The grey haired man said.

“No way.  Trust me dad, this is one of the worst ways you can go.”

Ted’s dad pulled over in a parking lot to a now closed store.  “Let me see that.” He said before pulling the phone out of Ted’s hand.

His dad adjusted his glasses and fiddled with the screen.  He occasionally asked Ted how to move the image or change the size of it or some other detail about the phone’s use.  When he saw the newer roads that would shave so much time off the commute to his sister’s house, he grumbled and pushed the phone back into Ted’s hand.

“Thing’s all wrong.  There’s no way any of those roads are there.  I bet it’s one of those hacker kids pulling a fast one on us.”

“Yeah, dad, a hacker.  Because they’re really interesting in making a few fake roads to mess with people like us.”  The old man huffed again and started the car. 

Ted knew he was determined to stick with the roads he knew, even if they were a bit roundabout.  The man looked almost hurt as he drove.  Ted let him simmer for a bit to cool down before saying anything.

“Dad, look, I’m sorry.  If you want to keep driving this way, that’s your decision.”

“Damn right it is.”

“Uh huh, but maybe, just maybe, on the way back I can drive?  Let you see the new roads?”

“I don’t know.  I mean, are you even old enough to drive yet?”

Ted felt a twinge of fear.  His dad should have had a perfectly clear mind.  There was never any indication otherwise.  Could the old man just be messing with him?  “Dad, I’m 42.”

“No you’re not.  You’re 45.  Don’t make things up.”  His dad said with a grin.  “And shut up about that damn phone.  If I want to go this way, that’s what I’m damn well going to do.  And no, you can’t drive on the way home.  If I wanted you to drive me anywhere we’d have taken your car.”

Ted breathed a sigh of relief.  It was good to know his dad was still sharp in that regard.  And still had an occasionally weird sense of humor.  Now he just had to work on getting over the man’s dislike of anything new and he’d be just fine.  

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 Sometimes it's nice to take a more roundabout way.  It let's you see things you otherwise would have.  But if you're in a hurry, then the more direct route is probably better.  It's all situational.

Word: Chimerical

chimerical

or chimeric

[ki-mer-i-kuh l or ki-mer-ik; -meer-, kahy-]

adjective

1. unreal; imaginary; visionary:

a chimerical terrestrial paradise.

2. wildly fanciful; highly unrealistic:

a chimerical plan.

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               “I have an idea.” Jill said dreamily.  She looked up at the sky with a distant smile on her face. 

                “What now?” Kyle said with a heavy sigh coloring her question.

                “We should learn to fly.”

                It sounded like a decent thing.  Becoming a pilot was surprisingly normal for Jill, albeit a bit random.  Still, Kyle had known the other girl for too long to assume she was talking about aviation. 

“And how do you propose to do that?” She asked.

“We can take a bunch of bird feathers and cover our bodies with them.” Jill said.

Kyle groaned and held her head.  She should have known it would be something like that.

“Uh, Jill, you know that’s not going to help us fly, right?”

“Why not?  Birds fly, and we’ll be using their feathers.”

“Birds don’t fly because they have feathers.  They have feathers because they fly.”

Jill thought about that for a moment.  Kyle had no interest in telling her friend about all the principles that went into a bird’s flight.  The poor girl would never understand.  Either that or she would simply choose not to.  It was difficult to tell the difference sometimes.  She was so into her flights of fancy that it was hard to tell if she realized her ideas were so unrealistic, or if she actually believed they could work.

“Hm, no, I’m pretty sure that’s wrong.” Jill said.  “Birds must use their feathers to fly, otherwise they’d have fir.”

“They don’t use their feathers to fly.  They use their wings.”

“Oh, right.  I forgot about the wings.” For a moment, Kyle thought Jill was having a moment of clarity.  “I guess we’ll just have to make sure to use our arms like wings when we stick the feathers on us.”  And just like that, it was gone.

“That’s…that’s not how wings work.  Just putting feathers on our arms doesn’t make them wings.  There’s a lot more to them than that.”

“Well, a bird’s wings are like their arms, so I don’t see what the problem is.”

“That isn’t even remotely true.”

Jill looked at Kyle and cocked her head to one side. “Why not?”

“Because…because…” Kyle was seriously considering telling Jill about all the things that went into making birds able to fly.  She reluctantly denied herself that pleasure, knowing it would do little good.  “It just isn’t.” 

“That’s not a good reason.  A bird’s wings are at their sides, like our arms are.  So, if we put enough feathers on our arms, we should be able to fly like they do.”

Kyle thought frantically.  Her mind settled on the one thing she was sure Jill would understand.  “We’re too big.”  She said.

“What?”

“Yeah, we’re too big.  You know how even big birds are smaller than us?  And the birds that are bigger than us can’t fly?  We’ll that’s because they’re too big.  And so are we.  We’re too big to fly no matter how many feathers we use.”

“Oh, that’s right.  I forgot about that.” Jill said.  Kyle breathed a sigh of relief.  “I guess we’ll just have to make a shrinking machine first then.”

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So glad I don't know any people like this.  It would make life so much more difficult.  But on the other hand, it might make it more interesting as well.  Hmmmmm....I'm not really sure what to think now.