Word: Polyglot

polyglot

[ pol-ee-glot ]

adjective

1. able to speak or write several languages; multilingual.

2. containing, composed of, or written in several languages: a polyglot Bible.

noun

1. a mixture or confusion of languages.

2. a person who speaks, writes, or reads a number of languages.

3. a book, especially a Bible, containing the same text in several languages.

 

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               Mr. Vanlin shuffled the resume away. Another bust that would never be called. He sometimes wondered why it was so hard to find good employees these days. It was a wonder he had gotten two good candidates so far, but he had been hoping for more. At least his next interview seemed like it could be promising. The man, Jake Willow, had extensive computer skills, and claimed to know five languages besides English. That alone was a skill worthy of employment.

               It took a few minutes for the interview to start, and when it did, Mr. Vanlin had to suppress a shudder. He had been hoping a linguist of Jake’s ability would be an impressive young man. Instead, he was a rotund fellow wearing thick glasses and a threadbare suit that did not quite fit.

               “Hello, Mr. Willow, yes?” Mr. Vanlin started.

               “Yup, that’s me.” Jake said, extending his hand. The handshake was moist and weak. Not something Mr. Vanlin wanted to deal with.

               “Very good, please have a seat. Now then, let’s start things off, shall we? What do you know about the job you applied for?”

               Once the interview started, Mr. Vanlin really saw just how unqualified Jake was. He was unprepared, barely even understanding what he had applied for, and knew nothing about the company. He gave ridiculous answers, very few of which made sense, and it looked like any movement at all caused his to sweat. And, as if to make things worse, all his computer “experience” was playing games, watching online videos, and writing terrible stories about already existing properties. There was no way Jake would be hired, polyglot or no. Mr. Vanlin was not even sure he wanted to know what languages the man spoke. But, he had to ask.

               “Now, it says here you speak six languages. Is that correct?”

               “Yup, sure is. Well, you know about English, right?”

               “Yes, of course. What are the other five?”

               “Elvish, Dwarvish, Klingon, Pig Latin, and Japanese.”

                “I…see.” Mr. Vanlin said through clenched teeth. It was actually better than he thought. At least one of those was a real, functional language. Although, his level of fluency was another matter. “And you are fluent in all of them?”

               “Oh yeah, definitely.”

               “Including Japanese?”

               “Especially Japanese. I spend, like, five hours a day watching subbed anime, so I’d say I know quite a bit of the language.”

               Mr. Vanlin took a deep breath. It was worse than he thought. Did this man really think learning a language was so easy you could do it by watching cartoons? And the others were useless. Oh sure Pig Latin might be fun for kids, but in a professional setting? And the first three were fictional. How could anyone learn a language that did not actually exist?

               “I see.” He ended up saying. “I think that’s about all the time we have for this interview.”

               “Oh, yeah, sure, no problem. I bet you’ve got a bunch more interviews, right?”

               “Yes, of course.”

               “So, will I be hearing from you soon?”

               “Well, that depends on the rest of the candidates. It will take about a month to sift through everyone, so you’ll know by then.”

               “Cool, cool. You’ve got my number and all that, so I’ll definitely be waiting for that phone call. See you in a month.”

               Jake got up and, without any further attempt at a polite departure, left the interview room. Mr. Vanlin would normally have taken some offence to that, but in this case, he was just glad the man was gone.

******************************

Please don't be this person in a job interview. It's...it's not a good thing. Like, it's really bad. If you need help prepping for an interview, there's lots of resources online you can use to make a good impression and have a much better chance of landing a job. 

Word: Prospopoeia

prosopopoeia

or pro·so·po·pe·ia

[ proh-soh-puh-pee-uh ]

noun Rhetoric.

1. personification, as of inanimate things.

2. a figure of speech in which an imaginary, absent, or deceased person is represented as speaking or acting.

 

*****************************

               Dave was on the computer again. Carl was not surprised when he saw that.  He was always on the computer these days. Normally, he was just browsing some website or other, but this time it looked like he was playing a game. The smile on his face made Carl curious. It was a happy smile, but there was something about Dave’s eyes. They seemed unfocused and distant.

               “Sup, Dave.” Carl said.

               Dave flinched and looked around their apartment quickly. “Oh, uh, hey, man. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

               “Yeah, sure.” That was something Carl understood well. He could not count the times he had been so engrossed in something that the rest of the world seemed to disappear. “What’s up? Got a new game?”

               Dave did not answer. He was already back to focusing on the screen with that dreamy, unfocused look on his face. Carl moved behind his roommate to check out what was going on. On the screen was a digital bedroom. It was perfectly arranged, clean, and well furnished. And it had an occupant. An attractive young Asian woman was saying something in a language that Carl assumed was Japanese.

               “Really, man? I leave you alone for a few hours and you start playing cheap dating games?” Carl asked.

               “Huh? What’re you talking about?” Dave asked.

               A pang of worry started to form, but Carl banished such thoughts. “That. That right there.” He said, pointing at the screen.

               “Oh, you mean my new girlfriend? Yeah, she’s great, isn’t she?”

               The worry came back, stronger this time. “By your girlfriend, you mean your in game character’s girlfriend, right?”

               “What character? Yuki’s my girlfriend. She’s great. Super smart, really fun to be with, and, well, you see what she looks like.”

               Now Carl had a real reason to be worried. He needed to get his friend back in touch with reality fast, before he was too far gone.

               “Dave, you know that’s not a real person, right? It’s just a character in a video game.”

               Dave turned to Carl and glared at him. “She is not. She’s a real person, and we’re dating.”

               “No, she’s fake. She’s just a bunch of ones and zeros.”

               “You take that back.” Dave growled.

               “Look, I get it, I do. Losing Claire was rough.” Dave winced at the mention of his ex. Carl just continued talking. “But you can’t do this. You can’t treat a game girl as the real thing.”

               “You…you’re just jealous, aren’t you?”

               “What?”

               “Yeah, that’s it. You’re just jealous that I found an amazing girl like Yuki. One who really cares about me. Yuki actually pays attention to what I say. She laughs at my jokes, and shares in my fears. She loves me, and I love her. You don’t have that, so you’re just jealous that I found someone so perfect and you didn’t.”

               Carl sighed. He could already tell that this was not going to go anywhere. Dave had given his digital girlfriend an entire personality already. That would not be easy to shake off. Maybe if he was a professional psychologist he could do it, but he was not. Which meant he would need to take a more direct approach.

               “Okay, so it’s going to be like that, huh?” Carl said. “Well then…”

               He went behind the computer and pulled the plug. Dave cried out like he had been stung by a dozen bees.

               “Wha…what did you do?” He shouted.

               “Relax. I’m just proving a point. Here, I’ll even plug it back in.” He said, even as he did just that.

               Dave rushed to boot it up and load the game again. His breathing was fast and his eyes were open wide as he moved the mouse as fast as it would go. Carl moved to watch what was happening. When the game’s title screen came up, Dave’s brow furrowed. The continue button was grayed out.

               “Oo, tough luck, buddy. I guess you forgot to save, huh?”

               “I…I don’t…hold on, let me get Yuki.” Dave said as he hit the new game button. A look of fear came to his face as he played through the rudimentary tutorial. When the girl came back, she seemed much more apprehensive and aloof than she had in his original game. “What…what’s wrong? Why doesn’t Yuki remember me? She should remember me.”

               “Dave, my friend, she’s not real. She doesn’t exist. She’s just a game character.”

               “N-no, no that…that’s not…that’s not true. She…she’ll remember me. She does remember me. She’s just mad that our date was interrupted, that’s all. I’ll apologize and everything’ll be fine.”

               Carl waited a few moments before he said anything. “No option to do that, huh? Face it, man, she’s not real.”

               Dave’s eyes began to water. He let out a high pitched squeak before rushing off to his bedroom and closing the door. Carl sighed. He would give his friend the time he needed to come back to reality. Until then, Carl closed the game and uninstalled it.  

***************************************

Remember, no matter how much you might like a fictional character, the fictional character doesn't even know you exist. Literally. 

Word: Parlous

 

parlous

[ pahr-luhs ]

adjective

1. perilous; dangerous.

2. Obsolete. clever; shrewd.

adverb

1. to a large extent; greatly.

********************************

               “Say that again?” Josh asked.

               “You are the Hero.” The old man said. His gap tooth grin showing clearly through his unkept facial hair. Josh hesitated to call it a beard, since it nearly swallowed the man’s entire face.

               “The hero?”

               “The Hero!” The man said for the third time. “The one destined to save the world!”

               “Uh…huh. Look, I’m just going to go now. I’m sure you can find another hero somewhere else. Somewhere that’s not here.”

               When Josh turned to leave, the man’s hand lashed out, holding fast to his arm with a grip that was significantly stronger than it should have been, given the man’s paper thin frame.

               “No! It has to be you! I can tell. You have the spark. The spark that will let you cross over to the world unseen.”

               “Uh…”

               “A world hidden from normal view, but still there. A world where magic still thrives. But it will by no means be easy, oh no. That place is on the verge of collapse, and if that happens, even this world, the one you know, will begin to crumble. Oh yes, both worlds must be saved, and you are the one to do it. You will face perils the likes of which you have never seen before, dangers that will make you question your very soul. But you are the Hero, the one who can face these dangers with head held high and see the end. But you will need help. First, a weapon!”

               The man rummaged through the oversized rags he wore and pulled out a metal rod. It had nothing to differentiate it from any other metal rod, save for the small mark at one end. The man held it out to Josh.

               “This! This is a holy weapon! Many Heroes have used it in their journeys. I admit that not all have succeeded, even with its help. But that is not important. Here, take it! Use it! Discover its power!”

               Not seeing another way to get rid of the crazy person, Josh took the rod. To nobody’s surprise, nothing happened.

               “Uh…Oh, oh wow. I can feel the power.” Josh said.

               “No, no, no. No, you need to activate it first. Obviously it won’t do anything now. You need to give it a name first.”

               “A name? Really? Okay, I’ll call it—”

               “Wait! Do not give it a hasty, ill formed name. The name is power. The name is life. If you give it a name given without thought, without meaning, it will produce a poor weapon. Far too many Heroes have fallen due to a poor weapon. Think. Feel. Give it a name that has purpose. Meaning.”

               Josh sighed. The man was still holding his arm, so he figured he might as well humor the guy. He did have a bunch of names that he thought sounded cool and strong. But then he thought more. Way back in middle school he had written a stupid fantasy story. Or at least, he had tried to. He had mostly given up on it and discarded the whole thing. But there was one character that stuck with him. He had used it in future works, always in the same role. It was the name of a dragon. A noble dragon that oversaw everything and protected the world when no human could. A dragon that was nearly a god himself.

               “Can it be a name that only matters to myself?” Josh asked.

               “Yes, of course. In many ways, that is the best kind of name.”

               “In that case…”Josh held the rod up. “I name you Yivain.”

               As soon as the words left his mouth, the rod glowed with a pure golden light. It shifted and contorted, wrapping around his right arm. When the glow subsided, the rod was gone. In its place was a brilliant golden gauntlet. Elaborate metalwork form the image of a dragon with an open mouth moving along the surface. Jewels of many different colors dotted the surface, between the knuckles and along the arm.

               “What the hell?” Josh shouted.

               “Yes, yes! Wonderful!” The man exclaimed. “A fine weapon indeed! I can feel the power coming off it! Once you discover its secrets, it shall serve you well!”

               “Wha…What? What’s going on? What is this?”

               “It is your holy weapon, Hero. It will aid you in your journey to save the world. But, there is more. One weapon cannot do what is needed. The way forward is far too dangerous, even for one such as you. You need allies. Friends, companions.” The man pulled out four more rods from his rags. Each sported a slightly different mark, but were otherwise identical. “Take these! Find companions to give them to. But be warned, do not choose idly. Choose those of strength, intelligence and conviction. Poorly chosen companions can lead to your death as surly as a poor weapon would. Go now, Hero! Find your companions! Save the worlds, both seen and unseen! Only you can do this!”

               The man let go of Josh’s arm. Josh looked down at the gauntlet on his arm. He had to admit, a part of him was getting excited by the idea, now that he knew there was more going on than he understood. But there was one important question he had to ask first.

               “Hey, how do I turn this off?”

               No answer came. He looked up, to where the man had been standing. There was no one there. Just an empty street.

               “Huh. Guess I’ll have to figure it out myself.” 

**************************

And thus, the call to adventure is given! Whether you want it to be or not. I'm sure this can only end well, right?