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Advanced English Nouns

Dearth  - A scarcity or lack of something

Iconoclast - A person who attacks or criticizes cherished beliefs or institutions

Diatribe - A forceful and bitter verbal attack against someone or something

Panegyric - A public speech or published text in praise of someone or something

Chicanery - The use of deception or subterfuge to achieve one’s purpose

Guile - skillful deceit

Quisling - A traitor who collaborates with an enemy force occupying their country

Aegis - The protection, backing, or support of a particular person or organization

Eminence - Fame or acknowledged superiority within a particular sphere

Quintessence - The most perfect or typical example of a quality or class

Raconteur - A person who tells anecdotes in a skilful and amusing way

Alacrity - Brisk and cheerful readiness

Sedition -  Conduct or speech inciting people to rebel against the authority of a state or monarch

Dilettante - A person who cultivates an area of interest, such as the arts, without real commitment or knowledge

Acumen - The ability to make good judgements and take quick decisions

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Restricting scientists from sharing ideas, information, and findings is restricting the public’s access to knowledge. It is CRIMINAL and it is potentially suffocating. They are trying to cripple those who invest their lives into learning, challenging, curing, educating, and changing. 

Read. Read all you can get your hands on. Read about fossil fuels, atmospheric changes, and evidenced-based theories. Then consider the evidence and form an educated opinion. Be a critical consumer. 

And while we’re at it, let’s not forget to read about recent advances in medicine. Read the plethora of evidence disproving Wakefield’s fraudulent study showing a linkage between vaccines and autism. Notice how I did not say “Dr.” Wakefield, as his medical license was revoked. Let me repeat: Vaccines do not cause autism.

Trust the institution of science. Trust the methodology, the strict review criteria, the novel findings. We must trust science. We need science.

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Synesthesia, while seemingly bizzare, is a very real state. An ‘everyday fantasia’. 

“The world is richer, vaster, than it too often seems to be.”

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“So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both sad and happy and I’m still trying to figure out how that could be.”

-Steven Chbosky

the perks of being a wallflower (2012)

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Kaitie Moyer

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Watching my toddler figure out how to language is fascinating. Yesterday we were stumped when he kept insisting there was a “Lego winner” behind his bookshelf - it turned out to be a little Lego trophy cup. Not knowing the word for “trophy”, he’d extrapolated a word for “thing you can win”. And then, just now, he held up his empty milk container and said, “Mummy? It’s not rubbish. It’s allowed to be a bottle.” - meaning, effectively, “I want this. Don’t throw it away.” But to an adult ear, there’s something quite lovely about “it’s allowed to be a bottle,” as if we’re acknowledging that the object is entitled to keep its title even in the absence of the original function.

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winter sunrise at the lake

by Denny Bitte

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With me, the present is forever and forever is always shifting, flowing, melting. This second is life. And when it is gone it is dead. But you can’t start over with each new second. You have to judge by what is dead. It’s like quicksand…hopeless from the start. A story, a picture, can renew sensation a little, but not enough, not enough. Nothing is real except the present, and already, I feel the weight of centuries smothering me. Some girl a hundred years ago lived as I do. And she is dead. I am the present, but I know I, too, will pass. The high moment, the burning flash, come and are gone, continuous quicksand. And I don’t want to die.

Sylvia Plath

(Structures that make us unique: our skin and our brain. When all that has decomposed, what could possibly make us ourselves? I’d like to believe in souls, I really, really would. I just can’t.)

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Still

I like hot drinks that warm the heart. The way fingertips grace mugs for comfort. And I like the time it takes snowflakes to fall, how when they descend, clocks wink slower. I like the way a lit candle can ignite multiple senses. How its presence makes a night more simple, more easy going, better in a way I can’t really explain. I like where our focus begins to lie; on others, rather than ourselves, for one of the few times during the year. I like the warm feeling that comes with seeing a loved one happy because of something you made happen. I love the way golden-white lights on a tree blind you, when you wake in the dead of the night. I love the shelter and comfort that comes with wearing thick knit scarves and fleece gloves, how you can look so warm and welcoming and can keep to yourself at the same time. The feeling of warm air gracing your skin as you enter a library to spend hours picking out books that will occupy your time as the year comes to a close. And I like the magic that comes with feeling you’re loved; with realizing just how much the people you surround yourself care; because when you’re away from home for a while, it’s easy to forget. I like the holidays. I really like winter.

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2010-2012: The lost years of dream writing.

Shalalalala the planets surround all in a leisured fashion, one in such a willow tree may pose and the colors reflect off every angle like lasers in a color-faded dream. These melancholy blues possess the eyes and they capture thoughts as if we are part of their existence, coincidentally with the epiphanies plastered in the air that are known to drive minds wild. The clock was winking with an intriguing portrayal of its usual disposition. To pass time in the most mellifluous way it could, it held his head high as the most puissant thing on this earth.

But these strange hues of blue were seen through kaleidoscope vision, was the universe flipped? Were there angry fish in the air? Perhaps all were one with the sea.

Time differed at times and would often chose to pass at a different pace, not faster nor slower, although it held an undeniable difference each time. time was resented, it barely lived, time was not invited, time was not welcome. Though The walls and floor possessed that of a gossamer essence, everyone felt like a kite. Above these floors, way up high in the ceiling of this earth, constellations and a syzygy the size of eyeballs watched as if they owned all. Perhaps they did, it will never be known. The fish must have been crepuscular because it was nearly twilight and they all joined in unison, eyes wide and red. The clock kept winking, winking, winking, winking, and in a flash, all was there and gone.

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I’m in awe of the universe, but I don’t necessarily believe there’s an intelligence or agent behind it. I do have a passion for the visual in religious rituals, though, even though they may be completely empty and bereft of substance. The incense is powerful and provocative, whether Buddhist or Catholic.

David Bowie, Esquire Magazine (Feb. 2004)