12: Sit'n Spin

The Sit'n Spin might evoke a nostalgic fondness in some gentle readers, to a simpler time, maybe even a happier time. Small wonder that this gnomish product appeared in the late 70s, when the hippies were growing up and trying to find a place for their gnomish-infected values to plague future generations.

Enter the Sit'n Spin, a do-it-yourself merry-go-round, basically. For one. Why bother having friends? Why bother running around in circles, when you can Sit'n Spin?! Around and around and around you go, look at you go, a dervish-in-waiting, a human whirligig, looking like an idiot! Meantime, the gnomes who surely invented it are counting their money and laughing at you, pleased at their hoodwinkery.It's a credit to my snarky generation (Generation X) that "Sit'n Spin" evolved into an insult involving the middle finger, which perhaps reflected a sly rejection of gnomish values, a co-opting of gnomish neo-whimsy for our own nefarious ends.

Fortunately, the Sit'n Spin was eclipsed by the time and shorter attention spans of children, but the gnomish spirit of the Sit'n Spin lives on. I like the age limit on the product -- 18M to 5.5 years -- perhaps the high point of susceptibility to gnomish aesthetics, or perhaps simply a weight limit factor (no doubt the ever-fatter younger generations put the Sit'n Spin out of business, since they couldn't craft a sturdy enough product to bear the kiddies, who were likely sitting enough, anyway.

11: Juggling

Juggling qualifies as another gnomish "sport," where you feel like perhaps you're doing something, but really you're merely distracting yourself and others -- which is entirely gnomish in character. Confession: I learned how to juggle as a boy, was given a Klutz Book on how to juggle, and taught myself. I never took to it, never got very good at it, never saw the point in it, but I learned the basic moves of juggling, little did I know that I was being exposed to gnomish agitprop. In fact, even the word "juggle" has a bit of a gnomish flavor to it.

The pointlessness of juggling, except to demonstrate what, precisely -- nimble fingers? Is exactly what makes it so gnomish. "Lighten up! Be whimsical with us!" the jugglers-in-public seem to say. "Look at me! I'm wacky!"

I can't fault clowns and street performers for using the gnomish art of juggling for their own devious ends -- no doubt clowns use juggling to appear less evil and perhaps to lure in innocent victims. But everyday folk, civilians, if you will, who engage in public juggling are infected by gnomish ideology.

When I bike along the lakeshore in the summer, I often see this juggling group of leathery men who occupy the same spot on the shore every damned day, juggling. Tennis balls, bowling pins, passing them between each other. Every day. Such clockwork whimsy!

GWD: Razzle-Dazzle

This word sounds like an incantation a gnome would use to bedazzle you, pick your pocket, get you to play hacky sack or something...

raz·zle–daz·zle
Pronunciation: \ˌra-zəl-ˈda-zəl\

Function: noun

Etymology: reduplication of dazzle

Date: 1889

1 : a state of confusion or hilarity
2 : a complex maneuver (as in sports) designed to confuse an opponent
3 : a confusing or colorful often gaudy action or display

— razzle–dazzle adjective

The repetition of the sound of the words, coupled by the hyphen (always a good tipoff of gnomish work wankery) are the tells, here. What's "razzle" without the "dazzle?" In fact, it's nothing. There simply IS no "razzle." Maybe the "razzle" is the gnomish hitchhiker to the otherwise innocent "dazzle" -- maybe "razzle" is a gnomish syntactical retrovirus. "Razzle" certainly seems like it could be a gnomish name ("Razzle Q. Ambercrombie, at your service!")

Again, the Victorians are to blame for this word. Clearly, the Victorian penchant for whimsy revivalism (perhaps a byproduct of their repressive nature in other areas) opened the door wide for gnomish incursions.

GWD: Floccinaucinihilipilification

Not like any human being would honestly, actually use this word, but that's exactly the point: it's a gnomish word, embodying gnomish values, and only a gnome or gnome apologist would even use this word.

floc·cin·au·ci·nih·il·i·pil·if·i·ca·tion
(noun) : the estimation of a thing as worthless
(verb) : the act of rendering something as worthless or inconsequential

I want to buy a new car, but I am not looking forward to the floccinaucinihilipilification of my truck when I try to trade it in.

*shaking head*

Anybody even using this word in conversation rates a cockpunch.

10: Curling

Just in time for the Olympics, right? Curling. Another gnomish sport. And, yes, originally invented in Scotland, so we can blame the Scots for it, but who's to say some gnomes in Scotland didn't inspire the locals to give it a go? It certainly has the cardinal qualities of a gnomish sport: strange, wacky, pointless, ridiculous.

GWD: Heebie-Jeebies

This is a rare case of a gnomish word that I actually use from time to time.

hee·bie–jee·bies
Pronunciation: \ˌhē-bē-ˈjē-bēz\

Function: noun plural

Etymology: coined by Billy DeBeck †1942 American cartoonist

Date: 1923

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)...

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.

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.

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):

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.

Gnomenclature

On a whim, I googled "Gnome Name Generator" and saw something like 19,800 hits. Here were the first two hits:

Gnome Name Generator 1

Gnome Name Generator 2

Sigh. Generator 2 at least offers some commentary on the topic of gnomes, and even allows for culturally-relevant gnome names. I didn't even know that one could have a gnome with a Greek name. Does Greek mythology allow for gnomes?

But these name generators seem entirely too serious to be suitable gnome-namers. Because to me, you don't even really need a name generator to convincingly name a gnome. Rather, the gnome's name should be needless and annoying. I'll create some out of the blue to demonstrate gnomishness...

• Sneedly Snodgrass
• Wally J. Fogbottom III
• Dexter Aleguzzle
  
• Downy Pillowflinger
• Dolly Brambledancer
  

You get the idea. Make it goofy and annoyingly offbeat, and you've got yourself a suitably gnomish name. You can probably already imagine the gnomes those names belong to. Annoying, right? Chewing on straw. Big fucking hats. Perched somewhere, where on a mushroom or a tree stump, being gnomes, looking at you all smugly, a sly twinkle in their eyes.

A good rule of thumb with a gnomish name is if it can be offered up with "...at your service" after it, perhaps with a happy-go-lucky little bow, you've got yourself a goddamned gnome-name.

"Wally J. Fogbottom III, at your service!" (little bow)

5: Tom Bombadil

"Hey dol! merry dol! ring a dong dillo!/ Ring a dong! hop along! fal lal the willow! Tom Bom, jolly Tom, Tom Bombadillo!"

-- Tom Bombadil

Tom Bombadil. Tom Motherfucking Bombadil. I don't want Tolkien scholar dickbags quibbling about this, because it's just not even a matter of debate. "Spirit of the English countryside," my ass. Bombadil's a gnome. Easily the most annoying character in "The Lord of the Rings" by a country mile, Bombadil -- that carefree, verse-spouting, nimble-witted jackanape -- he might as well be the patron saint of gnomedom, embodying everything gnomish in everything he does. Behind every gnomish thing, there lies Bombadil.

I hate even writing about Bombadil, frankly. But as we delve into the depths of gnomedom, it's simply required for me to mention him. And if you are somebody who actually likes Bombadil, then you, my friend, are a damned gnome.

To those of you who may not know Bombadil, or what he signifies, just be warned: if a person you are interested in likes Bombadil, be afraid. Be very afraid. The militancy of their support for Bombadil is directly proportional to their douchiness. Trust me on this. If, on the other hand, you want to cockpunch Bombadil upon reading about him, then there's hope for you, yet.

Is he happy? Is he insane? Is he insanely happy? Is he happily insane? No one knows! Even Tom Bombadil doesn't know! Oooh, look how madcap he is, high on life....


There's a Zen saying, something about if you meet the Buddha, kill him. If you meet Tom Bombadil, kill him. Seriously. Just pop him.