Tag Archives: compliment

Compliment

Compliment: (n) a polite expression of praise or admiration.

We require a license for driving. (Initially it involves a test.)

We require a license for marriage.

A hunter must purchase a license.

If you decide to build a wall in your home, you are obligated to pay money for a permit–or license–to do so.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Yet we fail to license the most dangerous part of humanity: the ego.

We walk around with unlicensed egos, which have no concern whatsoever for anyone else on the road with us. If you’re going to be an intelligent and valuable person, you must understand three important steps. Shall we call it the “Ego License?”

  1. Find out what you can do and keep getting better at it.
  2. Always keep in mind, there is someone more talented than you are.
  3. Use the compliment to acknowledge quality instead of manipulating weaklings.

 

Donate Button

Subscribe to Jonathan’s Weekly Podcast

Good News and Better News

 

Chuckle

Chuckle: (n) a quiet or suppressed laugh

He drove me crazy (even though that would not require many miles of journey.)

He was a theater critic who came out to watch my show, and even though I settled my inner being by insisting that I would not glance his
way, my left eyeball seemed to deny the commitment and wander over to view his reaction.

I was hilarious–at least as hilarious as I ever get.

I was on–which is merely the opposite of off.

The audience was with me–though you’re never quite sure how much of it is sympathy.

He just sat there. He didn’t smirk. It was like someone had bet him that he could remain emotionless during the entire affair.

I had never met him before, but I hated him. Not with a ferocious anger, sprouting a rage of violence–just a normal, temporary, human hatred, which could be assuaged merely by the introduction of a simple compliment.

After the show he came backstage to see me. I was surprised. I thought the next thing I would receive from this fellow would be his review, in which he used as many synonyms for “mediocre” as possible.

But turns out he thought I was hilarious.

I had to ask him, “Did you ever laugh?”

He frowned at me as if concerned about how much I might have hurt myself falling off the turnip truck.

“You don’t have to laugh out loud to chuckle inside,” he explained. “I am an internal chuckler, who simultaneously admires the material that amuses me.”

I stared at him, but decided not to pursue the conversation, since at this point, the outcome was in my favor.

But as I considered his insight, I realized that I often watched things on television or at the movies, and would tell people how funny they were–yet I wasn’t really sure my face exuded anything other than a death growl.

All I can say is, you can feel free to chuckle, even if it’s done inside your closet of appreciation.

But thank God–oh, thank God–for those who spill and spew their laughter.

 

 

Donate Button

Anthill

dictionary with letter A

Anthill (n.): a moundlike nest built by ants.

In the literary world, ants are always portrayed as industrious do-gooders. They’re also priggish in the sense that when characterized by poets, they are shown to be a bit snobbish about their craft, talent and provision.

I’ve even heard public speakers suggest that a factory or a particular group of working individuals were humming along at such an efficient pace that they “resembled an anthill.”

Yet having looked at an anthill myself and watched ants at work, I would like to make two subjective points that are contrary to the common promotional representation:

1. Can there be anything uglier than an anthill?

A vision in beige, heaped up in no particular style, constructed for the sole purpose of creating a catacombs of work environment for its enslaved occupants. At least when you look at a bird’s nest, it’s formed with all sorts of remnants of this and that and has some individuality. An anthill looks like the desert got the mumps.

2. I personally have watched ants go by me–busying themselves and oblivious to the world around them–and I have noted that there is no good cheer in the little crawlers.

Even though I am a great admirer of efficiency and work ethic, when you remove joy from the experience of human discovery, you end up acting…well, like an ant, wishing you could say “uncle.”

No wonder they occasionally rebel and slip away from the hive to raid picnics. (There are even a few radicals who decide to start their own business of rubber-tree plant removal.)

But most toe the line in their blah surroundings, pushing tiny morsels into the hill in order to eat, dry their sweat and go back out to find more scraps.

So I don’t think it’s a compliment for people to tell me I work like an ant. Because if you’re going to climb mountains … you’re going to have to get out of your anthill.

 

Donate Button

Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix