37: Spam

I can't be 100% certain if Spam is, in fact, crafted by gnomes (perhaps as a culinary prank inflicted on unsuspecting humanity), but there is something very intuitively gnomish about it.

The word itself, a fusion of other words, the senselessness of it, the gratuitous nature of it. And the product itself. Spam just seems like something a gnome would serve up to you, grinning slyly. Its whole "mystery meat" nature feels gnomish to me. Why eat real meat when you can crack open a can of Spam and nosh on that, instead? The fact that so many of the ad campaigns involved rhyming, too -- that also feels very gnomish to me, too.

Leprechauns: Are they gnomes?

Just in time for St. Patrick's Day, a mystery: are leprechauns gnomes? They are typically classed as a type of fairy, but they run perilously close to being gnomes -- goofy hats, often unaccountably and pointlessly jolly, impish senses of humor, trickster natures, a keen sense of mischief, and a desire to pull a fast one on humanity.

Some of the classic representations of them make me think maybe they are, in fact, gnomes. I mean, if you didn't know this was a leprechaun, you surely might mistake him for a gnome, no?

The "Leprechaun" movies certainly tried to warn people of the dire threat leprechauns posed humanity.

I don't know whether they are gnomes, or are merely Celtic cousins of gnomes, or are entirely unrelated. Certainly if you put Tinkerbell, a gnome, and a leprechaun in a lineup, most Gentle Readers would be hard-pressed to lump the leprechaun on the pixie side of the equation, toward Tinkerbell -- rather, the leprechaun would caucus with the gnome.

36: Bagpipes

Maybe it's because of St. Patrick's Day looming, but I can't help but think that the bagpipe as a musical instrument evinces telltale qualities of gnomish engineering. The combination of quirkiness and gratuitous invention just seem terribly gnomish. And I say that as one who likes bagpipes, after a fashion, while at the same time knowing that only a gnome or a gnomish fellow traveler would invent them, let alone actually play them. And the noise they make, they seem tailor-made to piss off your enemies, which seems also very gnomish. I'm sure a gnome persuaded a Celt long ago that the bagpipe was a good thing, and away they went...

GWD: Riffraff

Again, they might take away the hyphen, but the pattern remains: gnomespeak. Gnomish riffraff with their word-wankery.

riff·raff

Pronunciation: \ˈrif-ˌraf\

Function: noun

Etymology: Middle English ryffe raffe, from rif and raf every single one, from Anglo-French rif e raf altogether

Date: 15th century

1 a : disreputable persons b : rabble c : one of the riffraff
2 : refuse, rubbish

— riffraff adjective

35: Lederhosen

Gnomes wear lederhosen. It is most definitely a gnome-influenced garment, intended to make humans look ridiculous. Not much more need be said about that. Lederhosen. *shaking head*

GWD: Hocus Pocus

Gnomes are masters of hocus pocus. You have been warned! And notice the tie-in with juggling? Coincidence? I think NOT!

ho·cus–po·cus

Pronunciation: \ˌhō-kəs-ˈpō-kəs\

Function: noun

Etymology: probably from hocus pocus, imitation Latin phrase used by jugglers

Date: 1647

1 : sleight of hand
2 : nonsense or sham used especially to cloak deception

GWD: Mumbo Jumbo

While this one has some provenance, it is squarely in the gnomish linguistic set, embodying gnomish values (especially meanings 2 and 3)...

mum·bo jum·bo

Pronunciation: \ˌməm-bō-ˈjəm-(ˌ)bō\

Function: noun

Etymology: Mumbo Jumbo, a masked figure among Mandingo peoples of western Africa

Date: 1738

1 : an object of superstitious homage and fear
2 a : a complicated often ritualistic observance with elaborate trappings b : complicated activity or language usually intended to obscure and confuse
3 : unnecessarily involved and incomprehensible language : gibberish
4 : language, behavior, or beliefs based on superstition

34: Paddle Ball

You know those paddle balls? The ones with the rubber ball attached to them by a length of rubber band? Gnomish. "It's fun!" these say, as if persuading themselves of it, or else trying to dupe a human mark into taking it up. And the little hole at the bottom of the handle seems a particularly sinister touch, like trying to get a "hole in one" with that being enough to drive a person crazy. Which is what the gnomes intended all along.

GWD: Itty-Bitty

In addition to being roly-poly, gnomes are itty-bitty. They are itsy-bitsy, too, while we're at it. This one's a latecomer to gnomespeak, but holds to the conventions of the language.

it·ty–bit·ty
Pronunciation: \ˈi-tē-ˈbi-tē\

Variant(s): or it·sy–bit·sy \ˈit-sē-ˈbit-sē\

Function: adjective

Etymology: probably from baby talk for little bit

Date: 1938

: extremely small : tiny

33: Cup Stacking

I refuse to call it "Sport Stacking." Refuse. You're stacking cups. Quickly. You're not reading, or enjoying sunshine or romance or anything. You're stacking cups. Quickly. Cup stacking seems like a "stupid kid" pastime -- the handheld version of Hungry Hungry Hippos, basically. I can't help but think that it's priming a generation of kids to be ace dishwashers. Or adroit street hucksters out to flim-flam unfortunate marks -- and that's the gnomish agenda laid bare in cup stacking. You stacked some fucking cups. Quickly. Good for you. Somewhere, you've made a gaggle of gnomes very proud.



Seeing shit like this makes me wish that these kids would take up more productive hobbies, like, I dunno, drugs.

GWD: Roly-Poly

You probably thought I'd finished with the gnomish hyphenated nonsense words, didn't you? Not by a longshot! This one is particularly useful because it actually describes the gnomish physique rather nicely...

ro·ly–po·ly

Pronunciation: \ˌrō-lē-ˈpō-lē\

Function: adjective

Etymology: reduplication of roly, from ²roll

Date: 1820

: being short and pudgy : rotund

32: Devil Sticks

Ooh, what a scary name, right? Devil Sticks. Hippie Sticks. Phish Sticks, they might as well be.

The origins of devil sticks remain obscure. What is known is that many civilizations around the world were creating several types of devil sticks starting at some time over 3,500 years ago.

Obscure origin? Oh, we know where they came from: yet another gnomish invention inflicted upon humanity. Is the Devil a gnome? He just might be! For sure, the whole "idle hands are the Devil's playthings" saying applies where devil sticks are concerned. These are invariably trotted out at assorted jam-bandish gatherings, when you get a bunch of gnome wannabes embracing gnomish values while smoking copious amounts of gnomeweed. Just as reliable as the hacky-sackers and the jugglers and the unicyclers is the devil sticker...

GWD: Abracadabra

The archetypal "magic word" is, yes, gnomish. The annoying, mumbo-jumbo way of it is just gnome to the bone. Likely a gnome long ago got some poor human to trade their cows for that "magic word" and off they flew.

ab·ra·ca·dab·ra

Pronunciation: \ˌa-brə-kə-ˈda-brə\

Function: noun

Etymology: Late Latin

Date: 1565

1 : a magical charm or incantation
2 : unintelligible language

GWD: Bugaboo

You know what gnomes are scared of? Bugaboos. That's right. Of course they are. And you see the unknown etymology of "bugaboo?" It's because it's from the gnomes, like so many of those words. The reference to bugbears is curious, as I'm sure bugbears would gladly eat gnomes if presented with them. A glimpse into the gnomish world, since one can know a people by what they fear as well as what they value -- gnomes clearly fear bugbears. Good to know.

bug·a·boo

Pronunciation: \ˈbə-gə-ˌbü\

Function: noun

Inflected Form(s): plural bug·a·boos

Etymology: earlier buggybow, bugger-bo, of unknown origin

Date: 1598

1 : an imaginary object of fear
2 : bugbear 2; also : something that causes fear or distress out of proportion to its importance

31: Spork

I haven't yet ventured into gnomish cuisine (no worries -- I will get there, Gentle Reader), but before I do, it's vital to mention the spork, which is perhaps the most gnomish of eating utensils one could ever imagine. Not quite a spoon, not quite a fork, both, and neither -- such quizzically chimerical qualities are reflective of gnomish engineering at its finest.

First introduced in the late 19th Century, the spork is yet another bit of Victorian detritus foisted upon the rest of humanity, no doubt by an enterprising gnome. If you went on a field trip to Gnomeland, guaranteed they'd be eating with sporks, there. Even the word sounds stupid, makes you feel stupid for saying it. "Can you pass the sporks, Fizzle?"

You know what other utensils gnomes use at their table, besides the spork? The spife, the knork, and the sporf. Absolutely in the spirit of pointless innovation at the heart of gnomish values. But the spork is, and always will be, the flagship of gnomish cutlery, and so had to get the attention it deserves.

I'm not even dignifying the spork by putting a picture of it here. You know what it is. Avoid it.

Update: Miniature Golf

Glow-in-the-dark miniature golf. Just when you thought it couldn't get any more gnomish, now the gnomes have hapless humans playing miniature golf in the dark. Some of the places include 3-D glasses for yet another pointless innovation to the already pointless enterprise of miniature golf.

The picture in that link above creeps me out -- what is that ogre-like guy doing with that poor kid? I dunno, but he's creepy. Of course, they couldn't just come out and have some grinning glow-in-the-dark fucking gnome in the picture, or nobody would even turn up.

Update: Rube Goldberg Machines

OK Go appears poised to reveal themselves as a gnome-influenced band with their Rube Goldberg Machine video that is like a recruiting video for gnomishness...

30: Dr. Seuss

"And will you succeed? Yes indeed, yes indeed! Ninety-eight and three-quarters percent guaranteed." -- Dr. Seuss

That's right. Beloved children's book writer Dr. Seuss was a gnome -- or at least an assiduous propagandist of gnomish living. I was going to post it yesterday, but it was his birthday, so I cut him some slack.

You're probably amazed it took me this long to even add him, but I waited until I couldn't wait any longer. Seuss is a gnome. His books, his rhymes, his characters, his world -- gnomish, gnomish, gnomish, gnomish -- the reason Seuss has managed his elder statesmanlike stature is because his work is safely confined to the realm of children's literature, where it's permissible (and, perhaps, even encouraged) to give the gnomes free rein. Gnomish sentiments are perhaps tolerable when inflicted upon children; it's when they move outside of the realm of childhood that gnomish antics become intolerable.

A child enjoying "The Cat in the Hat" is one thing. An adult enjoying it is something altogether different. You can probably drive adult friends and coworkers batty just by speaking in Seussian rhymes (note around :48, Jessica saying "No more sporks, and spooknives, and knifeoons -- it's like a Dr. Seuss kitchen down there!" That's taken to be a BAD thing. Yeah, I'm eventually getting to sporks, Gentle Reader).

Any adult who's read them to a child, had to soldier through those trisyllabic-metered rhymes that go on and on and on can see the wicked nature of Seussian gnomishness in action.