The Curmudgeon's Dictionary

By William Soisson

Twenty years ago, when the author first read Ambrose Bierce's "Devil's Dictionary," he was ecstatic. Here at last was a creative work that was utterly lacking in discrimination. Worth no regard whatever for race, creed, color, sex, religion, or fast food preference, Bierce kicked everyone's sacred cow right in the udder. The author instantly knew that somehow, some day, he must continue the work begun by Ambrose. So it is that "The Curmudgeon's Dictionary" follows the great Bierce's lead in flaying without mercy the pretentious of our world.

At the same time, "TCD" unavoidably reflects many of the changes in style that have occurred in our language since 1911, when "The Devil's Dictionary" was first published. Many of the old poets, like Biddle Tamey and Opned Teal, so well quoted by Bierce, are gone, having been replaced by such contemporary greats as Taner Bane and Sigson Kolgy, who, though they lack the elegance of the poets of Bierce's day, have the virtues of simplicity and forthrightness.

Then, too, changes in science and technology have brought us many new terms such as "computer," "CAT Scan," "Jive," and "Monica," which did not yet exist in Bierce's day. Moreover, changes in the attention span have made it desirable to abbreviate many definitions and support the work of the aforementioned more concise poets. The author has violated this procedure only when considerations of clarity or beauty have made it imperative, as with the haunting "Ode to a Giant Bonsai Tree."

Aside from such evolutionary matters, one will find that some of the venerable Bierce's definitions are still valid today and have found their way into this magnificent book in updated form. The updating is no criticism of the master, only recognition that time moves things, if not forward, at least along.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 25, 2016
• ISBN: 9781514486160

William Soisson

Bill Soisson has always loved words. In first grade, his teacher noticed that he had an unusually large working vocabulary. She gave him increasingly difficult tests in order to explore his talent. It wasn't until he was examined at the eighth-grade level that little Soisson missed a single vocabulary answer. The word was "Sumperfla'd". No correct synonym was provided among the possible answers. Did this spiteful and envious act of a primary school teacher cause our young hero to cry foul? Not at all. It merely caused him to embark on a lifelong search for the meaning of the word "sumperflad," and it was during his search that Soisson, after intensely studying Ambrose Bierce's "Devil's Dictionary," came up with the idea of “The Curmudgeon's Dictionary" as a way of raising the money he needs to continue his quest. It also allows him to get a perverted sort of revenge on that now-Attzheimerish teacher by playing his own dirty tricks with words. As he matured, a philosophy degree at the University of Notre Dame and a law degree at Dickinson provided young Soisson first with insight and then chicanery regarding the use of words. The years he spent in Europe and Africa, using other languages, served to teach him to make a mess out of his own tongue. The discipline of writing for publication in such fields as international law and the Islamic and Bantu cultures taught him the use of words as “flatulence.” And along the way, he became an accomplished speaker before audiences of all sizes. When an interviewer asked whether he was comfortable speaking to large groups, Soisson responded, "Yes. It's the listeners who are uncomfortable." As for the future of his work, the scholarly Soisson says, "My aim is ultimately to destroy everyone's pomposities, deceptions, and absurdities until I am the only person left with pomposities, deceptions, and absurdities."

Book preview

THE CURMUDGEON’S

DICTIONARY

WILLIAM SOISSON

Copyright © 2016 by William Soisson.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 04/22/2016

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Contents

A

B

C

D

E

F

G

H

I

J

K

L

M

N

O

P

Q

R

S

T

U

V

W

Y

Z

Curmudgeon, n.: One who not only says the glass is half empty but accuses you of drinking the other half.

If nothing in this book insults you,

you are an utterly insensitive person.

A

AA, n.: An organization to help people stop drinking. The trouble is, the drunk then has to deal with the personality that started the drinking in the first place.

Aardvark, n.: First in the dictionary, last to leave a picnic.

Absent, adj.: In the wrong.

Adultery, n.: The application of democratic principles to love.

Adversity, n.: Problems best borne when they are another’s.

Abe Lincoln, n.: The president who had the best wit of all the presidents. One of his most remembered jokes was when he spoke of Government of the people, by the people and for the people.

Abrupt, n.: Sudden, without ceremony, like the termination of a long fall.

Abscond, v.: To move to other parts, taking nothing but the cash drawer.

Absent, adj.: Out of earshot and, therefore, available as an object of derision or slander.

Absentmindedness, adj.: A condition that commonly afflicts college professors and husbands at anniversary time. A professor named Larned Q. Foote once phoned a friend in the evening and said a show was being aired on TV right then and that it was worth watching. The friend sarcastically replied that he had been watching that very show, until the phone had rung a moment ago and he had had to answer it.

Oh, said the professor. Who was it that was calling you?

Abstention, n.: The act of denying oneself a pleasure then making certain everyone else denies himself the same thing.

Absurd, adj.: Not making any sense (e.g., the term social security).

Accessory after the fact, n.: A lawyer who defends a guilty man.

Accent, n.: An acquired feature of the spoken language that enables you to mispronounce words better than the fellow in the next state.

Accordion, n.: A musical instrument made for playing both ends against the middle. Often used to correct manic tendencies. It is played by depressing its keys, which, in turn, depresses the listener.

Achievement, n.: The end of the climb, the beginning of the decline.

Acrophobia, n.: A fear of heights often found in depressed people, fortunately.

The jilted lover climbed the rail,

Intent on ending life’s travail.

But then he hesitated. Why?

That dratted bridge was just too high!

—Sinfiddle Tomad

Admiration, n.: The act of noting how much another person is like us.

Adult, n.: One who has stopped growing… taller.

Adult bookstore, n.: A great linguistic triumph; this term describes a store that sells books for juvenile minds.

Adultery, n.: A practice so highly regarded in France that a copy of the novel Madame Bovary is given to all newlyweds there. Rooted in the word adult, but no one has the least idea why this is so. (See adult bookstore.)

Advertisement, n.: A communication designed to get us to buy brand X because it is better than the leading brand. Advertisements are not always truthful. Some motels advertise that kids stay free. Yet numerous people, on reading such ads, have gratefully sent their kids, only to have them immediately returned.

Advice, n.: Counsel that is sought when one needs confirmation of his own opinion. Helpful words, best saved for yourself.

I don’t waste my advice on the wise; they don’t need it.

And I don’t offer it to fools; they won’t heed it.

Subtracting the fools from the wise, I can see,

There remains only one advisee—

And it’s me!

—Hopmer Gidl

Easily gotten by dialing certain 900 numbers, where you pay for the advice.

The most helpful of these numbers advises the caller not to waste his money on 900 numbers.

Aeroplane, n.: The original spelling of aircraft. The aeroplane is a device first flown by Orville and Wilbur Wright. They flew 120 feet, about the length of today’s baggage line.

Affection, n.: A display of love that could mean you are in the wrong house.

Affectionate, adj.: A term describing a wet, muddy Labrador retriever.

After-dinner speaker, n.: One who invariably begins his speech by saying he has nothing to say and proceeds to prove it at length. Abenal Tole became so addicted to after-dinner speaking that the mere sight of bread crumbs made him start babbling.

Age, n.: A state in life that depends on any number of things.

If you would remain young, just stay

Around some young folk ev’ry day.

But old age soon will be your place

If you should try to keep their pace.

—Klivda

The term can, though, have a spiritual application.

She smiled and lifted her sweet head.

Sir, are you young or old? she said.

He grinned and chucked her ’neath her chin.

It’s young for quite a while I’ve been!

—Hoviah Glund

Agnostic, n.: Popularly, one who doubts everything. The agnostic is one of two kinds of people who are totally free from the burden of thought. The other is the one who believes everything.

Ailment, n.: A debilitating condition that prevents one from performing as well as he might. The most common example is cold feet.

Air, n.: A gaseous mixture that once was the last thing left on earth that was free. Remember the saying Free as the air you breathe? But that was before EPA.

Air bag, n.: A device that is, by law, supplied with every new car, provided that there is an Off switch on the passenger side. This is provided in case a politician is the passenger.

Airport, n.: A place that typically has dozens of monitors to tell you at exactly what time flights will arrive and depart, but no clock to tell you what time it is.

Alcohol, n.: A liquid used equally for massaging back or brain.

Alcoholic, n.: One who has a love affair going on with a very possessive mistress.

Tell me, bottle, why is it true

That I get a hic out of you?

—McInter

Alexander Graham Belski, n.: The first telephone pole.

Alibi, n.: Being in two places at once.

Alimony, n.: The billing for the cooing.

Alphabet, n.: A set of characters on which a written language is built. English has twenty-six characters. Chinese has fifty thousand.

Sweet-sour, bird nest, wonton too.

But no make alphabet soup for you,

’Cause if we put all letters in bowl,

Your tummy no hold a good egg roll.

—San Choni

Altar, n.: A table at which priests in ancient times offered sacrifices to the deity. Modern man, having no stomach for things like that, instead sacrifices his Sundays before the pulpit.

Alzheimer’s, n.: A wonderful condition that enables you to meet new people every day and never see a rerun on TV.

Ambidextrous, adj.: Able to botch a job with either hand.

Ambiguity, n.: A position defended vociferously by its adherents.

There is an ardent, urgent tide

That strong within me dwells:

Oh give me ambiguity

Or give me something else.

—Fimfniggle Ta

Ambition, n.: The quality in a person that makes it desirable, after he has left, to count the silverware.

America, n.: The best half-educated country in the world. America is said to be composed of three hundred million ids wandering in search of an ego.

Amnesia, n.: The happiest of diseases. The amnesiac should never be unhappy, for each day is a new adventure. Of course, there are amnesiacs who have forgotten how to be happy.

Amnesty, n.: The country’s generosity toward those whom it would be too hard to catch and punish.

Antacid, n.: A preparation that can be taken before eating a meal that is expected to cause heartburn, acid indigestion, and sour stomach. The directions do not explain why on earth anyone would eat such a meal.

Antibiotic, n.: A gift for the one who has everything.

Antique, n.: An object prized for its beauty until it is found to be a fake.

Antiseptic, n.: A liquid that has made the best of modern medicine possible. The importance of this was once shown in Pennsylvania. Just before a lethal injection was administered to a convicted murderer, the spot where the fatal needle would enter was purified with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball.

Apartment, n.: A place where the landlord is constantly trying to raise the rent. The tenant is too, of course. The apartment always gives the illusion of privacy, but not for long.

I hate to hear my neighbors shout.

I cannot stand their braying.

But even more, what wears me out—

I can’t hear what they’re saying.

Aphorism, n.: A well-known saying meant to solve or explain a human problem. Aphorisms have three characteristics. They are tidy, coherent, and stupid.

Appeasement, n.: Feeding a carnivore in the hope that it will eat you last.

Apple, n.: A fruit that is said to keep the doctor away. Lack of health insurance helps too.

Apprehension, n.: Fear of the future. This assumes there is such a thing as fear of the past or present.

April 15, n.: Income tax day. Anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic. No connection is claimed. And Shakespeare forgot to warn of the ides of April.

Arab, n.: A person dedicated to the proposition that you can fuel all the people all the time.

Arbitrator, n.: A former Arby’s employee who sneaked away to work for Wendy’s. Easily distinguished from the Wendytrator.

Argument, n.: A disagreement between two people, unless one of them is the wife.

A man came late to work. He claimed he’d had an argument with his wife.

What about? they asked him.

That’s just it, he moaned. She wouldn’t tell me!

Armageddon, n.: What will happen when America has as many psychiatrists as lawyers.

Armed forces, n.: Organizations whose profession is to restore and keep peace, no matter how many have to die in the process.

Arrogance, n.: Guilt in disguise. Something like guilt, which is arrogance in disguise. Think about it.

In penance, I once cried, "Alas!

I’ve long been so much of a mess.

Surely, I’m among the worst of all

Since long ago, since Adam’s fall."

Just then, a voice came from a cloud

To say Ahh, son, don’t be so proud!

Artificial scent, n.: A chemically created imitation of a natural scent. Having been around for a while, artificial scents are now yielding to imitation artificial scents. There is, for example, a bubblegum-scented soap.

Assassination, n.: The killing of a government figure. Not a federal crime until recently.

Assertive, adj.: Emphatic about one’s errors.

Assisted living, n.: A process of assisting dying people.

Asthma, n.: A respiratory disease that can be serious. One asthmatic woman received an obscene telephone call. After only a few seconds, the caller said, Did I call you, or did you call me?

Astonish, v.: To impress with sudden terror, admiration, or anger. Sometimes used as a synonym for surprise, though this is not preferred. Once, Noah Webster’s wife caught him in bed with the maid and shouted, Noah, I am surprised! whereupon Noah looked calmly up at her and replied, No, my dear. You are astonished. I am surprised.

At ease, n.: A military command used to bring soldiers out of relaxed conversation and make them silent and ill at ease.

Attorney, n.: A legal representative who contends that his client is innocent until proven broke. In ancient Rome, an attorney was not permitted to accept fees for his work. Today’s lawyers are making up for the oversight.

Lawyers sing in praise of freedom,

Often saying how we need ’em.

But their truest harmony

Goes: The best things in life are fee.

—Cyclop Didner

Auberge, n.: An inn, to an American who has traveled in France. Variously pronounced.

Auctioneer, n.: One who gets paid for having a quick tongue and a nimble mind.

The auctioneer held up, This bust of Shakespeare . . .

Not Shakespeare, Voltaire, said a man with a sneer.

Undaunted, the auctioneer said, "If you please,

I’m sorry. The Bible’s not my expertise!"

—Gudl Hermonit

"Auld lang syne, saying: A Scottish phrase meaning Old long ago." The translation does not help much.

Automatic transmission, n.: A luxury that became a necessity because women liked being in the driver’s seat but didn’t want to have to shift the gears.

Awe, v.: To cause to be greatly surprised, typically by something never before seen. Bedel Kol, the famous poker player, once popped a roomful of eyes when he said to his opponent, the redoubtable Raspl Ardish, Your four kings and an ace don’t really mean a thing, for I will take the pot with my four aces and a king (McTidnen Badoff).

B

Babysitter, n.: A teenager not old enough to vote, with whom you entrust your children and all your household valuables.

Bacchus, n.: A god invented by the Romans to represent drunkenness. Christians later invented patron saints to take the place of pagan gods, but there is not yet a patron saint of drunks. This is because Bacchus was specifically for wine drinkers. Thus, a