Convoluted: (adj) twisted, intricately involved

“Would you like to join?” she said with a smile as fresh as a can of peaches.

She really wanted me to join.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

There is a tendency in our species to want to link up, join up and hook up. She was trying to get me to join an organization called “Save the Whales (Before It’s Too Late).” I wanted to explain to her that I have nothing against whales. (It would be hypocritical to take that profile since I have my own blubber, and I’ve been known to be a blowhole.)

I don’t have a problem with people who have a point to make or even want to shout out their cause. It’s the “joining” part that bothers me.

It becomes convoluted.

For instance, I’m not allowed to say I’m a Democrat unless I support the Democratic platform in its entirety. Likewise with the Republicans.

Most churches are not pleased if I approach Christian theology like a smorgasbord, picking here and there from different denominations. No—they want me to join.

If you’re a Congressman who just heard the State of the Union, and the President is not of your party, you are not allowed to express appreciation for any point he may have made. If you do, you are not adequately joining the party—accepting all the convoluted ways the organization plans to use to gain and maintain power.

I have trouble with joining.

I don’t have trouble with agreeing.

I don’t have any problem at all with listening to opinions that may be contrary to mine and finding worth within the framework of the new idea.

But when you tell me I’m a Christian, and therefore I have to do the following eight things or you will question my authenticity, I can get downright pagan.

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Busybody: (n) a meddling or prying person.

There is a danger in turning vice, immorality or even sin into charactures so as to escape any referrence to these pieces of nastiness being associated with our actions. So we tend to make sexual immorality broad-stroked–as prostitues, whores and gigolos–and lying as gangsters or Congressmen.

But when am I immoral? When am I a liar?

I’m immoral when I don’t follow the morality that is healthy for humans and I’m a liar when I don’t tell the truth.

God, I don’t like that definition.

I do not like being lumped in with the more decrepit and deceitful members of the human race. It’s much easier for me to believe that a busybody is an old woman sitting around her house frowning at all the joy of the young people around her, secretly jealous because they continue to be optimistic, and she is now old, dried-out and bitter.

I wouldn’t want to think that my personal jealousies, which cause me to throw a little bit of a negative comment about other people, to diminish their character, would have anything to do with being a busybody.

Certainly the member of a political party who sideswipes a person from an opposing political party is not a busybody. Right?

Refusing to understand the changing trends in society and insisting on trying to preserve the old ways doesn’t make me a busybody–even if I tend to criticize those who disagree with me.

A busybody is someone who’s old. And as long as I don’t think I’m old, I couldn’t be a busybody.

Actually, the name is rather ironic–because those who gossip,. refuse to change, are inflexible, judgmental or selfish tend to have very lazy bodies.

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Articulate: (v) to express an idea fluidly or coherently.dictionary with letter A

I think we’re fine as long as the disease does not spread to the American living room.

I guess we’ve just reached the point in our history when we expect politicians to parse words, fudge facts and grope for non-answers. My problem is that when it begins to trickle down and become part of the mind-set of the general populace, it really gets annoying.

Here are the facts: I would love to ask you a question and have you just answer it. Could you please just articulate your present situation without giving me too much history or too many excuses?

Yet we have sufficiently frightened the American people out of talking because they think they might say something “wrong,” so therefore they end up not saying much of anything at all.

May I share the standard three-step process of human communication?

  1. I spoke quickly.
  2. This is the correction.
  3. Honestly, I’m still learning.

If you spend your whole life trying to come up with the safe answer, you will fail to accomplish anything. I would love to have a politician, a preacher, a pundit or a pauper simply give me the first answer that comes into their minds–and let them clarify it later.

I am tired of Congressmen and even our President mulling over the question, trying to find the very best way to give a non-response.

Hear ye, hear ye: what makes you articulate is the ability to articulate your feelings quickly, knowing that some revisions may be necessary, but delaying is maddening.

A question is asked. I am weary of people having a look on their faces like they’ve just been thumped by a two-by-four as they try to access information which they feel will be acceptable to share and might make them look intelligent.

If you want to appear smart, answer the damn question.

You can apologize later, you can add new stuff, you can even say you didn’t understand the original question if you want. But if you find yourself beginning to respond to every inquiry thrown your way with “ah,” “umm,” “well,” “let me see,” or “wow”–you probably are putting forth the message … that you’re struggling to acquire your best available lie.

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by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Acari:  (n.): a large order or subclass of small arachnids that comprises the mites and ticks. They are distinguished by an apparent lack of body divisions.

I’ve had some interesting jobs in my life.

I once tried to sell encyclopedias door-to-door until I was pulled over by a policeman because the last house I went to insisted I came through their door without permission. I didn’t actually do that but, it’s hard to convince a policeman of your truthfulness when you’re an encyclopedia salesman.

I once delivered blood samples to a laboratory until one day I ran out of money to buy dry ice, and tried to get to the lab very quickly without it, and discovered the samples don’t work as well at room temperature.

I played Santa Claus, which was quite fun except for the fact that I got hungry on the job and attempted to eat the candy canes, inserting them into my mouth past my synthetic beard, only to create a hairy mess mingled in my spittle.

But today I would say that the worst job in the world would be trying to be the public relations agent for the acari. You would be at a tremendous disadvantage because most folks have no favorable rating for ticks and mites. Their percentage of appreciation would rank down with Congressmen and Senators.

Can you imagine, if that were the only job available? If it was YOUR responsibility to develop a slogan?

“Don’t be ticked off–you mite enjoy them.”

Even though that has a bit of cleverness, after the initial warmth from the hearer, the vision of nibbling ticks and mites would take over and you are back to square one.

I thought maybe you could do something like they did with Mr. Peanut–maybe a tick with a top hat and cane, doing a two-step with a mite. Underneath would be the slogan: “Yeah … but they dance!”

You see what I mean?

So as you start off your day and you’re on your way to your position of responsibility, keep in mind, there ARE jobs worse than others.

For instance, you could have the job of writing a 250-word essay of relevance … on the acari.