hee·bie–jee·bies
Pronunciation: \ˌhē-bē-ˈjē-bēz\
Pronunciation: \ˌhē-bē-ˈjē-bēz\
Function: noun plural
Etymology: coined by Billy DeBeck †1942 American cartoonist
Date: 1923
Friday, February 12, 2010
9: Prop Comedy
I can't be sure whether a gnome invented prop comedy, but prop comedy is definitely gnomish, and is possibly another case of gnomish subversion in otherwise mundane human matters. Zany! Wacky! Giant-sized underpants! A big hammer! A tiny toilet! Woo hoo hoo!
While I'm sure prop comedy has its roots in vaudeville, and, thus, has some kind of comic lineage that is, perhaps, worthy of respect among its greatest practitioners, we're so far removed from vaudeville these days, it's hard to know what to think about it, anymore. Giant telephone! Ho ho hee! Lamp that looks like a leg! Har har hah!
I guarantee that gnomes, or the dupes of gnomes, are fans of prop comedy, and perpetrators. Notice Tommy Cooper's fez (e.g., wacky hat)...
While I'm sure prop comedy has its roots in vaudeville, and, thus, has some kind of comic lineage that is, perhaps, worthy of respect among its greatest practitioners, we're so far removed from vaudeville these days, it's hard to know what to think about it, anymore. Giant telephone! Ho ho hee! Lamp that looks like a leg! Har har hah!
I guarantee that gnomes, or the dupes of gnomes, are fans of prop comedy, and perpetrators. Notice Tommy Cooper's fez (e.g., wacky hat)...
8: Hacky Sack
There are a number of gnomish "sports" I could start with, but perhaps it's fitting that I begin with hacky sack.
It is conventionally associated with hippies, neo-hippies, and other folks similarly disposed (and, let's be honest, there is most definitely a strong gnomish streak in most hippie activities), but if a gnome were to invent a sport, hacky sack would most definitely be it. The combination of pointlessness with, what, exactly? Annoyance? Makes hacky sack an intoxicatingly gnomish sport for those inclined to embrace the gnomic lifestyle (fully aware that "gnomic" doesn't pertain to gnomes, but I'm commandeering the word for my own purposes, henceforth.). Hacky sack is the kissing cousin of juggling, which I haven't gotten to, yet, but will at some unspecified point in the future. The time and attention and useless dexterity required to master hacky sack makes it a picture-perfect gnomic sport.
Hacky sackers seem to have taken to calling it "footbag" to evade the gnomishness of the original name for what they do, as if to say "Look! We're serious athletes, here! Don't diss our sacks!" But please, please. It's hacky sack. You're participating in a gnomish sport, and should rightfully feel the shame of doing so.
Here is a video a fan of the "sport" short of some babe doing it, with The Pixies' music profaned by providing a soundtrack for it (although "Where Is My Mind?" is, perhaps, very apt, here). And sure, the young lady is fit, but I can't help but wonder if she'll pause at some point in her future and wonder "My God, what have I done with my life? I mastered hacky sack." (then she hacky sacks with a hand grenade and ends it). They shoot with a fair amount of slow-motion, here, to add gravitas, much like they do on the show, "Lost."
A possible theory for the existence of hacky sack is that is was really a gnomish prank perpetuated on humanity -- like some wily gnome gulled some poor hippies into doing it, and it spread, with the intention of making people look like idiots. Which is entirely in keeping with gnomish thinking.
It is conventionally associated with hippies, neo-hippies, and other folks similarly disposed (and, let's be honest, there is most definitely a strong gnomish streak in most hippie activities), but if a gnome were to invent a sport, hacky sack would most definitely be it. The combination of pointlessness with, what, exactly? Annoyance? Makes hacky sack an intoxicatingly gnomish sport for those inclined to embrace the gnomic lifestyle (fully aware that "gnomic" doesn't pertain to gnomes, but I'm commandeering the word for my own purposes, henceforth.). Hacky sack is the kissing cousin of juggling, which I haven't gotten to, yet, but will at some unspecified point in the future. The time and attention and useless dexterity required to master hacky sack makes it a picture-perfect gnomic sport.
Hacky sackers seem to have taken to calling it "footbag" to evade the gnomishness of the original name for what they do, as if to say "Look! We're serious athletes, here! Don't diss our sacks!" But please, please. It's hacky sack. You're participating in a gnomish sport, and should rightfully feel the shame of doing so.
Here is a video a fan of the "sport" short of some babe doing it, with The Pixies' music profaned by providing a soundtrack for it (although "Where Is My Mind?" is, perhaps, very apt, here). And sure, the young lady is fit, but I can't help but wonder if she'll pause at some point in her future and wonder "My God, what have I done with my life? I mastered hacky sack." (then she hacky sacks with a hand grenade and ends it). They shoot with a fair amount of slow-motion, here, to add gravitas, much like they do on the show, "Lost."
A possible theory for the existence of hacky sack is that is was really a gnomish prank perpetuated on humanity -- like some wily gnome gulled some poor hippies into doing it, and it spread, with the intention of making people look like idiots. Which is entirely in keeping with gnomish thinking.
7: Robin Williams
I don't even need to say anything. Robin Williams is a gnome. And he actually looks like one, too. Put a beard and a hat on him, perch him on a mushroom, voila. Gnome.
GWD: Doodad and Doohickey
A doodad (and its cousin, the doohickey) are so fucking gnomish that you're likely to sprout a pointy hat just saying them.
Again, we see the evolution of the language, with Victorians to blame for the "doodad" and then some whimsical gnomish linguistic dead-ender coming up with "doohickey" in a vain attempt to keep the word alive to vex and confound the 20th Century (which, all things being said, wasn't necessarily the most whimsical era in human history).
You can already see a pattern with the gnomish words -- an emphasis on gadgetry and a kind of addle-brained forgetfulness, like pointing at some arcane object and stammering out with increasing exasperation: "Fetch me that whatchamacallit! You know, the doodad! The thingamajig! The doohickey!"
Also, notice the ineffably ornamental quality of "doodad" -- it's a tip of the pointy hat to pointlessness, which is, and always will be at the heart of the gnomish soul.
doo·dad
Pronunciation: \ˈdü-ˌdad\
Function: noun
Etymology: origin unknown
Date: 1888
1 : an ornamental attachment or decoration
2 : an often small article whose common name is unknown or forgotten: gadget
doo·hick·ey
Pronunciation: \ˈdü-ˌhi-kē\
Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural doo·hickeys also doo·hickies
Etymology: probably from doodad + hickey
Date: 1914
Again, we see the evolution of the language, with Victorians to blame for the "doodad" and then some whimsical gnomish linguistic dead-ender coming up with "doohickey" in a vain attempt to keep the word alive to vex and confound the 20th Century (which, all things being said, wasn't necessarily the most whimsical era in human history).
You can already see a pattern with the gnomish words -- an emphasis on gadgetry and a kind of addle-brained forgetfulness, like pointing at some arcane object and stammering out with increasing exasperation: "Fetch me that whatchamacallit! You know, the doodad! The thingamajig! The doohickey!"
Also, notice the ineffably ornamental quality of "doodad" -- it's a tip of the pointy hat to pointlessness, which is, and always will be at the heart of the gnomish soul.
6: Rumpelstiltskin
Although typically characterized as a "dwarf" or "dwarf-like creature" -- the name, and the annoyingness -- are dead giveaways. Rumpelstiltskin is a goddamned gnome. It is interesting to note the names of characters in similar tales, which point to the gnomish nature of the title character (emphasis added):
"Little Noise?" "He Who Talks Too Much?" Clearly, these other legends incorporate some of the annoyance one feels when crossing paths with gnomes.
The same story pattern appears in numerous other cultures: Tom Tit Tot in England (from English Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs), Päronskaft (meaning "pear stalk") in Sweden[citation needed], Joaidane جعيدان in Arabic (he who talks too much), Martinko Klingáč in Slovakia, Ruidoquedito (meaning "little noise") in Spain and Ootz'Lee Gootz'Lee in Hebrew.
"Little Noise?" "He Who Talks Too Much?" Clearly, these other legends incorporate some of the annoyance one feels when crossing paths with gnomes.