Category Archives: A words

Achilles

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Achilles: a hero of the Trojan War. During his infancy his mother plunged him into the Styx, making his body invulnerable except for the heel by which she held him. During the Trojan War, Achilles killed Hector but was later wounded in the heel by an arrow shot by Paris, and died.

Since I saw the movie, Troy, Achilles will always be Brad Pitt to me. Or maybe it’s that Brad Pitt will always be Achilles. Whichever floats your boat. And speaking of floating your boat … Supposedly Helen of Troy had an affair with Paris, which started a war and launched a thousand ships.

If you watch the movie, you see the portrayal of a very arrogant, self-sufficient, mean-spirited, dark, quizzical and I suppose to the average woman between the ages of fourteen and twenty-five, sexy Achilles.

He liked killing people.

That should be one of the classic turn-offs, but it seemed to be very exciting to his fellow-fighters and all the women who met him. He was rather ruthless, which the Greeks, who touted themselves to be such a scholarly bunch, still extolled as noble. He considered himself to be invincible, which lends itself to a bit of foolishness and certainly makes one obnoxious.

What did I learn about Achilles? I relearned the very valuable lesson that half of what I believe about myself is only true because it hasn’t been tested, and the other half, that has been tested, I do not believe, for some reason or another, to be sufficient to my needs.

We are all foolish when we think that because we haven’t yet met an enemy who can take us down, that we are beyond conquering. And we’re also quite silly when we downplay the TRUE virtues of our soul and talent, deeming them insignificant.

If Achilles had just been a good soldier, treated people better, and had not run into battle believing he was made of titanium, he probably could have lived to a ripe old age, had children and been deeply respected by the world around him. Instead, he let his ego drive his mission rather than using common sense and restraint.

It’s doubtful that dipping him in the River Styx actually achieved the purpose of making him supernatural. It sure did give him a lot of confidence, though–that is, until somebody shot an arrow in just the right place.

Interesting. Since we talk about Achilles, I wonder if that’s where we got the phrase, “that person’s a real heel.”

 

Achieve

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Achieve: (v.) to reach or attain a desired objective, level or result by effort, skill or courage.

If we just realized that contradictions are what drive us crazy, we could begin to identify them, expose them as the charlatans they are and move on to better aspirations.

This is certainly obvious in our society’s penchant to advertise self-esteem and glorify achievement at the same time. I am told “I am fine the way I am” as I am invited to celebrate the success of another individual, who instead of being satisfied with his or her abilities, pursued excellence. How can you insist that people are acceptable in their present form, and still alienate them from the feeling of victory which comes from pursuing their talents?

I just don’t get it. We have to either decide that mediocrity is commendable or we have to stop giving awards at the Superbowl. If the Number 30 team in the league is just as good as the Number 1 team because they can “suit up,” then why do we have tournaments to declare a final winner?

Which one is it? Are we sufficient in our present status? Or do we need to achieve?

Does God’s grace cover all of our numerous iniquities and stupidities? Or does He extend grace to us to grant us time to do better?

Until we resolve this dilemma in our society, we will be yanking on the emotions of human beings, at first granting them absolution for their less-than-adequate efforts, and then criticizing them for being lethargic.

Here’s what I think:

  1. Encouragement is a good thing if it is honestly telling people that they need to achieve.
  2. And achievement is tremendous if we allow people the dignity and honor of growing, feeling appreciated through their efforts.

I don’t think we should compare people who don’t compare in ability, nor do I think we should take individuals who have been given much and cut them slack because they don’t wish to participate.

Human motivation is really quite simple–if you have much, much is expected of you. If you have a little, a little is expected of you.

And if you want to achieve greatness, take your “little” … and multiply it.

 

Achernar

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Achernar: (n.) the ninth brightest star in the sky, visible only in the southern hemisphere.

That’s me. Of the eight stars available, I am the ninth brightest.

But you see, here’s the power. Or maybe better phrased, here’s the solution: if you realize you’re the ninth brightest star, it’s a good idea not to get caught up in number envy.

No matter how hard you try to promote that idea, the natural question to those reading your advertising material would have to be: “Hmmm. I wonder where the other eight are…”

I think the key to the whole definition is this: if you’re the ninth brightest star, become important by finding your own southern hemisphere. OK. Maybe you’ll never make it to the northern hemisphere. Maybe you’re stuck below the equator, the Mason Dixon line, the belly button or just underneath the radar.

It doesn’t mean you don’t have light.

The ninth star does not look dim unless it hangs around trying to compete with Numbers Three and Four. Only stubbornness, pride and foolishness would make such a stupid choice.

Things that have “gone south” still need to be “lit up.” And if you’re the ninth brightest star, that’s your job.

I occasionally have people walk up (even though they don’t literally “walk up.” That’s just a phrase authors use to establish perspective) and they ask me, “Don’t you wish you could reach more people? Don’t you wish you were more famous? Don’t you wish …”

“Wishing” is for fairies and lamp rubbers. I stopped wishing a long time ago and now spend my time considering, planning and performing what I can do. Somewhere along the line you have to leave the rest up to time, chance and the whim of God.

So there are only two important things to remember if you’re the ninth brightest star:

  1. Find a darker place–where you look really bright.
  2. Enjoy what you have to bring instead of wishing you had more.

That’s it. If you do that, you can be like our friend, Achernar: you can do a job and have a really difficult name to pronounce …  to further guarantee your obscurity.

Achne

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter AAchne: (n.) small, dry, one-seeded fruit that does not open to release the seed.

Small. Dry. One seed. Won’t open. Doesn’t release.

You can imagine where my mind goes. Or maybe you can’t.

Having lived for a spell on this planet–blessed to be an American citizen and a person of faith, I do occasionally despair about how much we’ve allowed the fruitfulness of our beliefs to dry up and for the seed of newness to rot inside us instead of being released to grow.

I don’t think I’d be interested in seeing this particular fruit, would you? I suppose it has a function. I guess somebody can crack it open, rip the seed out, plant it in the ground and make more of the little dried-up boogers.

  • I’m tired of things remaining small because they’ve dried up and died around the seed that could have made them grow.
  • I’m tired of seeing, in my lifetime, freedom change into debate, which transformed into the tiny, dried-up kernel called political parties.
  • I’m sickened by a spirituality of Jesus which became the church and now is closed up in the sarcophagus of religion.

Maybe things have to get small, dry up and die in order for something else to live. But it doesn’t change the sorrow in my soul–to see the death of great ideas because we’re afraid to release the seed.

I hope I’m never an achne. Of course, there’s little chance I’ll ever be small. I work very hard not to dry up. And I never keep my seed on the inside. I’m casting it all the time into the earth around me, even though much of the ground is stony–and it gets choked by the thistles and thorns.

Ache

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Ache: 1.(n.) a continuous or prolonged dull pain in a part of one’s body 2. (v.) to feel an intense desire for: e.g. she ached for his touch.

What IS a dull pain?

Isn’t that an oxymoron?

I guess they call it “dull” to differentiate it from the concept of a sharp pain. But see, a sharp pain is something that comes quickly and then disappears for a while. A dull pain, by its very nature, hangs around, convincing you with each passing moment that it isn’t quite as uneducated and without influence as one might first believe.

You know what I’ve learned about pain? The closer it is to headquarters, the more it hurts. The headquarters, in this case, is the brain.

Since the brain REGISTERS all this crap, telling us exactly how miserable we are, if you only have to travel a few inches to get there, the level of misery is more intense. After all, isn’t a headache or toothache much more intolerable than a “big toe ache?” Any message from the big toe almost has to be telegraphed to the brain. After all, no big toe would have the Internet… By the time the telegraph gets all the way up to the brain, it kind of responds, “What’s the big deal? It’s a big TOE.” But when it’s a tooth or the head itself, special interest is given. The brain views it as a home invasion.

So even though we refer to “aching” as a dull pain, the intensity of the affliction is actually determined by how close it is to the gray matter. I guess the exception to that would be a heart attack. I suppose that’s because the heart and brain have a special friendship that we are not completely privy to.

So I think anybody who refers to an “ache” as a dull pain is someone who is presently not so afflicted. Aching, whether it be from love-sickness, a toothache or an irritated little toe on the left foot, is a fussy matter which does not want to go away, and only intensifies … the more we think about it.

Acetaminophen

by J. R. Practix

Acetaminophen: (n.) an analgesic drug used to treat headaches, arthritis, etc., and also to reduce fever, often as an alternative to aspirin. Proprietary names include Tylenol.

You’re not supposed to use a lot of aspirin. I didn’t know that. It makes your stomach bleed. Perhaps it’s an old wives’ tale, but they say that every aspirin causes your stomach to secrete one teaspoon of blood. Makes you wonder how many old wives died of blood seepage.

I learned this the hard way–not about old wives, but about aspirin.

I took three young men into my life who were in the middle of a custody battle with their abusive biological father. On one of his visitation weekends, he snatched the young men and hid them out like they were pretending to be the Hole in the Wall Gang.

I was distressed. I couldn’t sleep. The lack of sleep made me ache all over as I actively pursued finding my new young friends. I began to eat aspirin like they were popping out of a Pez dispenser.

About two weeks later, I was walking from my bathroom to my bedroom when the surroundings began to shake and shimmer like I was in an earthquake. I barely made it to my bed, to grab my mattress, before I fell to the ground.

Well, long story short, it turned out I had one of those stomach bleeds due to overuse of aspirin. It was not a sickness unto death–just one brought on by stupidity.

But since then, I have had to write on medical forms that I am allergic to aspirin, although I probably am not. Mostly, I discovered that I was allergic to stupidity.

Since then I have been taking acetaminophen for pain, weariness and aches. Honestly, I’m not so sure the product works as well as aspirin. I would refer to it as “aspirin light.” Or decaffeinated aspirin.

But it does help a little, and honestly, I was not particularly fond of my tummy bleed. So I will continue to take that product, even though, amazingly enough, it turns my poop green.

I do realize that at this point, that I have shared too much information. But if you don’t put personal notes into a blog every once in a while, it becomes stale and pedantic.

So hoping that you remember more about acetaminophen than my poop, I will close for now.

Acetabulum

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Acetabulum: (n.)  the socket of the hipbone, into which the head of the femur fits. SPECIAL USAGE: any cup-shaped structure, espcially a sucker.

Skeletons freak me out.

I think I talked about this a few days ago–the idea that we have an “inside” to our “outside” often leaves me beside myself.

Especially when you realize how we’re constructed both in a practical–but also in a weird way. This is never so true as when you look at that socket for the hip–the way it kind of rolls around in there, appearing to have absolutely no practical way to function.

So when I get in a room with a person advocating the theory of evolution over anything else, and an individual who insists on a literal interpretation of the Genesis creation story, I am baffled at how both of them fail to recognize how “fearfully and wonderfully” the human being is made.

I don’t care if there were billions of years of evolution–there is NO way that a single cell could EVER become a hip bone.

I‘m sorry. It’s impossible.

Somewhere along the line, there were LEAPS. What caused those leaps? I know that scientists have their own rendition of the mutations and interventions of nature, which may have instigated such spannings of the chasm. But honestly, when I look at an acetabulum and how it functions–how it rolls and how it’s supposed to last for a LONG time–I am massively in awe.

I guess I am one of those freaks who just believes that it’s ALL true. My concept of God is that He is kind of like a tourist visiting New York City for the first time. He literally wears Himself out, running from one site to another, enjoying every single moment of the vacation, refusing to miss any possible hallmark of the experience.

I think God likes to do it all. I think God tinkered with the amoeba and I think God messed with people. I think He enjoys perfecting things instead of pursuing the perfect.

So when I look at that hip-joint (which I don’t like to do for very long, by the way) I am convinced that there is more that went into that particular invention than we could ever imagine on this earthly plane. In other words, it took the best of evolution, it took the best of intelligent design, it took the best of mutation and it took the best of creation.

The mistake that most people make with God is that they feel empowered by discovering who He is or who He isn’t, and then they box Him up.

There IS no box for God. The minute we tell Him that He can’t do something, He’s already done it. And the minute we’re convinced that He does not exist in any way, shape or form, He goes ahead and finds a form … to shape our way.

Acerbic

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Acerbic: (adj.): a sharp and forthright style of speaking: e.g. his acerbic wit

Nice:   I like your outfit.

Mean:  Did you dress in the dark?

Acerbic: Oh, I didn’t know that was back in style.

 

Nice:  That was a delicious dinner.

Mean: Thanks for the grub–now I’ll spend the next two days in the toilet.

Acerbic: I see you must have gotten yourself a cookbook without knowing where to locate all the spices.

 

Nice:  I loved your singing.

Mean: Here’s twenty dollars. Take some singing lessons.

Acerbic: Interesting. How would you characterize that style?

As you can see, we all have the chance to be nice–or to take the degrading position of meanness. Unfortunately, I believe that acerbic is just mean people pretending they’re nice … by adding three drops of clever.

Acephalous

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Acephalous: (adj.) 1. no longer having a head: e.g. an acephalous skeleton 2. having no leader or chief: e.g. an acephalous society.

Sometimes the ancient philosophers put together some really interesting ideas. For instance, the notion that human emotions are located in the heart is kind of perfect. Because after all, the emotions are often caught between the head–where the brain is–and the body and genitals, where we live only a physical existence.

I think it’s also significant that the spirit of man is a breath. That’s what the Bible says–that God breathed into man the breath of life. So I guess spirituality is like our lungs.

So you can see what happens if you have a mindless society. People who are unwilling to think things through, and the emotions not having any breath from the lungs of spirituality, pump blood directly from the heart down to the genitals. After all, there’s no path north. Why not go south?

Of course, I realize this is all speculation and none of it is actual physiology, but the human heart is where we live. It is where we keep our treasure. Yet that brain sitting up there is where we make new decisions based on renewed concepts to use our bodies more effectively.

So if the heart doesn’t get breath from the lungs, sending that oxygen up to the brain to fill it with greater promise, then the body and genitals pretty much run the show on their whim. This is why we are ridiculously more upset with “sins of the flesh” than we are with “sins of the heart.”  Yet every sin of the flesh found its beginning in the human emotions.

We are a mindless society–headless, if you will–because we refuse to deal with our emotions and do not pump them through the breath of our spirituality to give some fresh air to our brains. So often we end up dictating the decisions of our lives based on regions below.

Unfortunately, attempts to use JUST the brain without accessing the heart and lungs make us light-headed and we pass out. (You can see, the analogy seems to keep going on and on, and you can probably find greater examples than I have in this small essay.)

Do not extol the value of education if you refuse to deal with the human emotions, and if you do deal with emotions, you should allow for the breath of spirit. Otherwise, we will be walking around as a self-fulfilling prophesy, with the little head ruling from below … and the big head completely decapitated.

Acellular

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Acellular: (adj.) not consisting of, divided into or containing cells.

Sometimes it’s just difficult to think about how we’re made.

I mean, I look at my hand and I see a completed, fleshy mechanism. I watch how it works as I wiggle my fingers or grasp onto a bottle of Coke. The gadget just makes sense.

And then you think a little further–down to the individual parts. The fingers, the bones, the connective tissue, the arteries, the skin… and honestly, it gets a little spooky.

Truthfully, even though I know I’m a human being, I don’t like to think of myself as flesh and blood. In a way it grosses me out–that right underneath that magnificent hand that God has given me is all this intricate circuitry and organization which could falter at the least little breakdown.

And that’s just when I think about the fingers and bones. If you allow your brain to start considering that there are cells inside those fingers and bones that are constantly dividing, growing and changing, as other cells die off and flake into oblivion–don’t you think that’s freakazoid?? Especially when they show you the picture of a cell.

Honestly, I rarely make the trip to the cell idea. And on top of that, I am completely incapable of considering molecules and atoms.

But what is really weird is to imagine something that would be constructed that is acellular (even though I would insist that sometimes my phone service seems to abundantly qualify …)

As weird as it is to consider cells constructing something, what is the glue for the clump of life that would be acellular?

I probably would not have made a very good doctor. Looking under the microscope would have given me the creeps. So consider my dilemma today–when I, who is squeamish about cells, is asked to consider acellular.