The Online Word-Hoard of David Foster Wallace

The Harry Ransom Center at the University of Texas-Austin has listed all the words David Foster Wallace circled—apparently, he did not underline—in his American Heritage Dictionary. Slate published the long list yesterday. Since I have not read a lick by DFW, I won't comment on his writing—nor will I make fun of him for wearing bandanas (look to the left) or having hipsterish author photos taken of him in the middle of cornfields.

But back to the list. While I was thrilled that the first word he circled is an alliterative grammatical term—ablative absolute—I was surprised to see that he circled words as basic as "bisque" and "citronella" and "sateen." (That he, a man not fluent in women's shoe speak, circled "espadrille" is not so odd.) His list has some great words, such as "coxcomb"—a fop or dandy; and "lucubrate"—literally, to study by lamplight. Fun fact: Lucubrare, the Latin verb from which "lucubrate" derives, was Cicero's favorite verb.

And how can one forget the splendid word for the small scraps we leave after a meal, our "orts"? The next time my dogs beg and stomp their tiny feet for food from my plate, I'll say, "Be patient, animals, and you shall have a portion of these orts."

A Movie in the Corner: 'The Edge of the World'

Slowly, I've been making my way through the films of Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger, aka The Archers. They are probably most famous for The Red Shoes (1948), which I watched years ago without knowing who the Archers were and sought out simply because I'd seen this beautiful clip, at 00:19, of a Moira Shearer's feet racing down blue spiral stairs. (P.S. New Yorkers, make sure to catch a screening of The Red Shoes at Film Forum starting February 19!)

I'd recommend several of their others—especially A Matter of Life and Death (AMOLAD), The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp, A Canterbury Tale, and the fantastically titled I Know Where I'm Going! (IKWIG), but tonight I watched Powell's first major film, made before he paired up with Pressburger: The Edge of the World (1937). This one features hands-down the best sheep ever on film. Sheep running, sheep being shorn, a lost sheep being hoisted up a Scottish cliff away from the breakers—and even sheeps' wool being knitted into bonny sweaters. There are lambs, too. Of course.

But the movie, in truth, isn't about sheep. If you don't take my word for, watch this TCM clip of Thelma Schoonmaker talking about her late husband Michael Powell's movie, from its genesis in a news item to its filming on the remote island of Foula.

There's also a great joke about long sermons (i.e. those exceeding an hour) and another about John Knox (which is not said tongue-in-cheek!). Also, it's kind of terrific to see leading lady Ruth look down a crag to the distant water below, pine for her departed lover, and wish to jump—much like, to my surprise, Bella Swan in New Moon, except Ruth is in black and white, composed, and her emotions are expressed in far simpler, but stranger and more memorable and more natural, special effects. And, there are no glittering, wan-faced vampires!

Doors 22 and 23: Be Hatted

It's likely you and yours have seen many festive people wearing Santa hats. You've probably seen a few other people, usually those who adore animals (myself included), donning plush antlers. (If you don't want to buy a pair at CVS, you can make your own out of construction paper, as this little boy shows.)

Today a faithful friend of TBATC told us that you can buy antlers for your car this year. Take a peek at this latest wonder in automobile decoration behind Door 22. They sure are more fun that car bows and car wreaths.

In searching the Internet for antler pictures just now, I found what might be my favorite holiday picture of 2009. But really, I expected no less from Our Lady of Perpetual Astonishment, looking as lost as a deer behind Door 23.

Door 17: Happy Feet

Sometimes Christmas inspires us to buy ridiculous things.

That happened a few days ago when, while standing next to K'Barbic at Filene's Basement, I saw something I (kind of) needed to buy: reindeer slipper socks with grippers, stubby legs, and poofy bellies, as pictured to the left. I never have understood why adults would need socks with grippers, but these didn't come in the non-gripper format. Lucky for this sock company, I find the idea of holiday animals on my feet irresistable.

Door 17 features a four-legged creature wearing very similar adornments.

Door 16: Dashing Through the Snow...

Not all of our Christmas associations are innately linked to this holiday season. So it is with Door 16. Call it the effects of marketing, but whenever I see those famous Clydesdales, I think of the holidays (probably because of a familiar holiday greetings ad in which they star). These magnificent animals have a rich history, however, extending beyond their current "celebrity spokeshorse" status.

Originally developed as agricultural "beasts of burden" in early 19th century Scotland by farmers along the River Clyde, Clydesdales are now mostly seen in draft horse shows or agricultural exhibitions. And of course, the best-known to the general populace are the Anheuser-Busch Clydesdales. (The original team was presented as a gift to August A. Busch Sr., to celebrate the repeal of prohibition.) The horses were quickly promoted to a "celebrity" status and sent out "on tour" representing their company. So now, what beast of burden doesn't dream of being a Clydesdale?

Door 13: Santa Paws

Hooray! Today is the first day of the 12 Days of Christmas, and, no, we are not going to say that the confused partridge to the left is your Door 13. That would be too easy.

Instead, we'd like to highlight a very special, wooferrific offering on the Washington Humane Society's blog. Check it out here.

Door 12: The "Michelangelo of Snow"

Behind Door 12, we have a work of art and a winter treat all rolled into one.

To see the work of another great snow artist, enjoy the Calvin and Hobbes snowman gallery.

Calvin & Hobbes Snow Art Gallery

View more presentations from hosss.

Before Bo

Before there was the Obamas' Bo, there was Jimmy Stewart's Beau.

Below this little paragraph you'll see a clip of Jimmy reciting his poem about Beau on the Johnny Carson Show in 1981. This poem is something oh so pleasant, and I recommend it.



I don't want to read too far into names, but there's something to be said for the different spellings of Bo/Beau. "Bo" is a lighthearted reference to the singer Bo Diddley, related by sound to Michelle's father Diddley. But to those who might not know that, "Bo" sure does resemble President Obama's initials.

Jimmy named his pup Beau, and he was Jimmy's furry dandy, his escort with a tennis ball. It comes from the Latin bellus, -a, -um, meaning handsome, beautiful. I consider this a very good and generous name for a dog, with no tinge of selfishness or pretension in it either real or perceived.

But we already knew Jimmy was good at choosing names for his animals friends, even when he was on film. Just watch him deliver this back alley monologue as Elwood P. Dowd in 'Harvey.' It's even more pleasant than the poem clip. Or so I think.

This little piggy had insurance...

After you have adopted your hypo-allergenic micro pig, take a look at the top insurers for animals. Here at TBATC, although no one can doubt our enthusiasm for our four-legged friends, we were remiss and did not duly celebrate "Pet Health Insurance Month." In a September article, The Smart Set discussed the matter of pet health insurance. Although today we are all about piglets, I'm sure there is ample health coverage for the family capybara as well.

This little piggy ...

Here's another reason to be an Anglophile: Micro Pigs.

They are Britain's latest craze in the pet world and it's easy to see why: When piglets, they fit in the hollow of a tea cup. When full grown, they're only about a foot tall. Plus, they are great for people with pet allergies. If only the Obamas had gotten a Micro Pig. If only.

The London Telegraph reports on how breeders make the pigs so petite:

The pigs are crosses of Miniature Pot Bellied pigs with Tamworths, Kune Kunes and Gloucester Old Spots to create their tiny, colourful Micro Pigs, which are sold for between £195 and £700.

The size of the piglets get smaller with every litter with Peanut the piglet believed to be one of the tiniest adult pigs in Europe.

And while we're on the subject of piglets, did you see this item?

Pass the Strawberry Yogurt, Please

In the spirit of K’Barbic’s last post, I would like to share a story. One day on the Internet, I found this picture and tweeted it. What is it of, you ask? A capybara crossing sign. (For those who don’t know, the capybara is a true Rodent Of Unusual Size—in fact, the largest species of rodent in the world.) If you do not know what a ROUS is, then it's time for you to watch The Princess Bride and learn about this most joyous acronym. (But do not worry, capybaras are much cuter and tamer than the bloodthirsty ROUS in The Princess Bride.) They also look wise, like Barack Obama in front of a teleprompter.

A few hours after I tweeted the picture, several people—no one I knew or followed—decided to re-tweet me. One went by the name “CaplinROUS.” I visited this person’s page only to find that it was not a person’s, but a capybara’s—a pet capybara’s. Who would welcome and pamper a massive rodent? A warm family in Austin, Texas, apparently. They keep this blog and tweet for him several times a day, often in response to other rodents. Some examples:

Strawberry yogurt for breakfast then my usual soak in the tub. Big day today. Book reading/capybara encounter at Kyle Library at 3 pm!

@MuffinGuineaPig Yes, I got treats after toenail trimming but it still wasn't worth it. I get treats all the time anyway.

I wonder what Aesop would think of this talking animal. ...

Our Lady of the Peafowl

I haven’t yet made a pilgrimage to Flannery O’Connor’s home Andalusia, but now I’m tempted more than ever to use my frequent flier miles on a plane straight to Savannah. Why? Because the peafowl have returned. Not Flannery’s flock, the last of which died in the late '80s, but three new ones. They even have a posh aviary to keep them safe from predators. Read the whole story here.

O’Connor famously raised her peafowl with swans, chickens, pheasants, quail, turkeys, geese, mallards, and Japanese and Polish bantams at Andalusia starting in 1952. In short, she liked winged things. But, as she wrote in the September 1961 issue of Holiday, she “felt a lack” until bringing peafowl into her fold. She says she has “no short or reasonable answer” for her fascination with them. “My frenzy said: I want so many of them that every time I go out the door I’ll run into one.”

Peafowl turn up in her letters and stories frequently. In one letter she notes a peacock who snatched visitors’ cigarettes and chewed them up. Apparently, it should have lived on a tobacco plantation. And in her story “The Displaced Person,” the priest, looking upon a peacock’s spread tail, utters, “Christ will come like that.” And in “King of the Birds,” she writes:

When it suits him, the peacock will face you. Then you will see in a green-bronze arch around him a galaxy of gazing haloed suns. This is the moment when most people are silent. … I have never known a strutting peacock to budge a fraction of an inch for a truck or tractor or automobile. It is up to the vehicle to get out of the way.

In fact, O’Connor had a peacock named “Limpy.” It had only one foot, the left, for the right had been lobbed off by a mowing machine.