Monday, January 28, 2008

Here's something about a phrase

Note: Crossword challenge didn't go off. At my new place, the newspaper kept getting stolen. At work, ditto. I threatened the careless apes at the New York Times without pause, but finally I had to concede and cancel the paper.


On to business. Back in the sixties, hippies used to say "let's blow this joint." They meant, "let's smoke this marijuana." Somehow, over time, the phrase evolved to mean "let's get out of here."

(Please note that I'm not 100% sure any of that is true. "Joint" is also an older term meaning "place," so it's very possible that "blow this joint" pre-dates the hippies. I could look this up, but I prefer to operate on conjecture and guesswork.

edit: I was completely wrong)

Anyway, at some point it became cool for just about everyone to say "let's blow this joint." It was appropriated by the mainstream, losing the connotations of a licentious, pot-smoking lifestlye.

There is a new phrase undergoing this process of incorporation.

"Blow one's load (early)."

Back in 1981, young people who were judged popular would say "he blew his load" to mean that some contemporary or other had orgasmed. It became common in the argot of youth.

Over time, the phrase evolved to mean committing too much of any resource too early in a given process, thereby precluding later success.

Example: McEnroe came out with a lot of energy, but he really blew his load in the first two sets. By the fourth, Borg was running him all over the court.

Now, the phrase doesn't even elicit a giggle when used in that context. It hasn't made its way to television or mainstream print yet, but its presence in ordinary conversation means that the shift can't be far off.

But we will know its origin.

On Friday, I'll have a piece on McSweeney's. It's about football and authors. Keep an eye out.

Wednesday, January 2, 2008

Stymied: The Crossword Challenge is shot in the starting gate

I recently packed my belongings and tramped eastward into New Bushwick. I phoned the New York Times in an appropriate manner, but they failed to forward Monday's paper. Or, perhaps, it was stolen. In either case, I didn't take lunch Monday and forgot to buy a paper, and yesterday found me out of sorts due to Spirits imbibed on the 31st. By the time I remembered anything about a Crossword, the paper had again been appropriated by the private sector.

Judging by today's smooth delivery, the Times and I are back on similar wavelengths, and the challenge is on for next week.

There Will Be Blood is an excellent movie.