Word: Backronym

 

backronym

or bac·ro·nym

[ bak-ruh-nim ]

noun

1. an existing word turned into an acronym by creating an apt phrase whose initial letters match the word, as to help remember it or offer a theory of its origin. For example, rap has been said to be a backronym of “rhythm and poetry.”
2. the phrase itself. For example, “port out, starboard home” is a misleading backronym for posh .

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               Billy sat hunched in front of the piece of paper. That caught the immediate attention of his roommate, Kyle. Usually when Billy sat hunched in front of something, it involved a screen. And actually doing something.

               “Hey, man, what’s going on?” Kyle asked.

               Without even looking up from the paper, Billy shushed Kyle. Kyle slowly moved to look at what was so important. He saw several words scribbled over it. Two of them, game and play, were written in big, bold letters. Others were hastily written and crossed out.

               “No seriously, what are you doing?”

               Billy shot his roommate an angry look before turning back to whatever his task was.

               “If you won’t leave me alone, maybe you can at least be useful and help.”

               “Okay? Gotta know what I’d be helping with first, man.”

               “I’m making an acronym out of one of these two words. It’s for an event or something. Sally wanted me to do it, so I damn well better do a great job.”

               “So what’s the problem?”

               “The words making up the acronym must have something to do with the original word. You know, describe it in some way. I can’t just string together a few nice sounding words and call it a day. It needs to have a semblance of coherence.”

               “Weird requirement, but okay.”

               “The problem I’m having is I can’t just go ahead and use the word inside of the acronym. I mean, really? How am I supposed to make a descriptive word out of ‘game’ without using the word ‘game’ in it?”

               Kyle thought for a moment. “Great and merry entertainment?”

               Billy paused for a moment then furiously scribbled that down, writing the words vertically under the appropriate header.

               “We’ll workshop it. Now what about play?”

               “Oh that one’s harder. That Y is a problem.”

               “I know, right? And the P is only slightly better.”

               They both thought for a moment before Kyle asked a pressing question. “Can you get away with only one of them?”

               “I suppose I could. She did only want one good phrase to use. But I figured it’d be best to give an option for both. Or multiple options.”

               “Ah. Trying to earn some serious boyfriend points, huh?”

               “Damn right. Now stop talking and think. One option won’t do.”

               The two went back to their silent thoughts. The only sound was Billy scratching at the paper, writing words and then immediately crossing them out.

“Grants all much enjoyment. Not sure how much more I can do for that one. And I still don’t have anything for play.” Kyle said after a few moments. Billy wrote the phrase down. “By the way, what is this for anyway?”

“I don’t know. Some kids thing she signed us both up for. A game day at the library or something like that.”

“That helps a lot less than I thought it would.”

“Yeah. I already exhausted that line of thought. No B’s, so we can’t use book in there anywhere.”

“Well, I’m sure there’s something out there. We just have to keep thinking and eventually we’ll get it.”

The two kept thinking. They were determined to get at least one phrase for play. It was just going to take awhile. 

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I tried to come up with stuff. But the problem are those middle two letters. You'd think those would be the easy two, but nope. Something about Youth, I think. 

Word: Spondulicks

 

spondulicks

or spon·du·lix

[ spon-doo-liks ]

noun Older Slang.

1. money; cash.

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               As the people of the city bustled around, Nick sat in contemplation. As they all went about their life, he thought carefully about his. What he needed to do. What he wanted to do. There were a lot of both, but the needs were more pressing than the wants, so his mind focused on that.

               The first thing he needed to do was clear. He needed to learn the local language. Or at least, figure out another way to communicate with people. He was sorely disappointed in whatever higher power brought him to his current location. Numerous stories had trained him to believe that being sent to another world would automatically come with a translation power. Unfortunately, that proved not to be the case, leaving him stranded in an unfamiliar land with no knowledge of the rules he would need to work within, and no means of finding out said rules.

               But before he could figure out communication, he would need food and shelter. The means to survive the next few days would be crucial. New clothes to not stand out like a sore thumb would also be important to his immediate well being, although to a lesser extent. And to make all that work, he needed money.

               He would need money to buy supplies and to get a place to stay. Money to get new clothes and any traveling supplies he might need. Money could even help with his language issues, since he would be able to buy learning tools.

               It all came down to money. Or rather, his lack of ability to earn it. What kind of job cold he do without basic literacy? And even those jobs would be difficult without the ability to understand what he was being told. If he was lucky, this world would have magic in it. Magic which could include translation spells. Of course he had yet to see any magic being used, but maybe it was something only a few people could use. He would have to find that out later. Somehow.

               For now, his best bet was to observe. He had always been told that being fully immersed in a language was the best way to learn it. He did not need much right away. Just enough to earn a bit of whatever money was used. He assumed it was coins of various types, since he saw a lot of them being exchanged at various shops. That would be interesting to deal with. And maybe he would get lucky and some careless person would drop one or two. He knew it happened in his old world, which only used coins rarely. In a world where it was the normal, there could only be more such accidents. At least, he hoped so.

               Until Nick saw someone misplace a coin, all he could do was what he already was doing. Sitting, waiting and listening. He would do so for as long as it took to either figure out enough language to get a job, or scavenge enough money to get a meal. Whichever came first. He was not picky about that. He was patient though. In his situation, lost in another world without money or linguistic ability, that patience was all he could rely on. 

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It always comes down to money, doesn't it? And in most cases, the lack of it. This isn't the place to wax political about the nature of the rich vs. poor or wealth inequalities though, so I won't. A lot of people much smarter (and many, many people dumber) than me have already gone into great length on that subject, so there isn't much for me to add. 

Word: Illimitable

 

illimitable

[ ih-lim-i-tuh-buhl ]

adjective

1. incapable of being limited; limitless; boundless.

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               The teens gathered around the table. The cellar was dark, damp and dimly lit. The table and chairs were filthy. And none of them cared. The spiderwebs in the corners may as well not have been there, and the moldy boxes were all but invisible. All that mattered was the small bag in the center of them.

               Inside the bag were four pills. One for each of them. They looked so normal. Four small tablets. By all appearance, they were no different than any over-the-counter painkiller. But these were far more than that.

               “Are…are you sure these are them?” One of the four asked. “They look so…normal.”

               “Pretty sure that’s the point.” Another said. “They can’t really be labeled in a bottle that says “Super illegal drugs here.”

               “Shhh…” Said the third. “Don’t say that. I don’t want my dad to know we’re here. And that we have this stuff.” The boy looked to the stairs leading out of the cellar, trying to see something that was not there.

               “Pff. He won’t hear anything. None of our parents will. They’re all watching the game. Now come on, we got the damn things, we should take them.” The final teen said.

               He reached for the bag and removed one of the pills. He brought it to his mouth, but waited, looking pointedly at the others. With much more hesitation, they all took one of the remaining pills. One of them counted down. At the final number, they all swallowed their pill.

               “So, how long until it takes effect?” The third boy asked. He looked like he was going to try and throw it back up. Or at least, he was eyeing an empty corner.

               “Shouldn’t be too long.” The second boy said.

               And sure enough, the pills kicked in. Each of the four froze. Their eyes opened wide as each was hit by the full effect. While the specifics would vary between each of them, all had the same sense. The sense of expansion. Of a consciousness that grew beyond their mortal forms. Each saw different sights. Whole alien vistas or the world too small to see. Of great battles and tearful reunions. Of people and places that were beyond all human comprehension.

               For a time, their minds were truly free. Limitless consciousnesses that spanned all of time and space.  They touched stars and read books that no human knew existed. They rode the tails of comets and bathed in cosmic baths of stardust. For that time, there was nothing and nobody that could bind them. They were without fetter and without limit.

               Time passed, with the four teens lost in a dream of omniscience. None of them knew how long the drug’s effects would last, or if they would ever really end. One never knew when taking the drug. And so, the four boys, lost in their dream, would go on until the effects wore off, or their minds no longer cared to return to the confines of the body. When dealing with the drug known as Limitless, nobody knew which dose might be the last.  

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Not much to say today. Enjoy the story and all that.