48: One-Man Bands

Hah! You thought the gnomes had gotten to me, didn't you, Gentle Reader? I know it's been quite awhile. I mean, I haven't posted since 2015! No doubt the Gnomish Agenda has advanced in the past eight years. Well, I'm still here, and I'm still loathing gnomes.

To that end, a definite gnomish thing is the concept of the one-man band. I'm not talking Nine Inch Nails, here (not gnomish, despite being a one-man band), but, rather, those hapless souls you might see performing at festivals and street fairs, trying to do what, exactly? Make beautiful music? Impress tourists with their industriously brazen moxie? I don't know.

I have a pet theory around the existence of one-man bands: these are human males (overwhelmingly human males) who have been apparently cursed by the Gnomish underground to make fools of themselves in this fashion. 

Is it a life sentence? Do one-man bands do this for their entire lives? Or until they hurl themselves off bridges? I'm not sure, but there are few contraptions (?) more resolutely gnomish than the one-man band.

The next time you're at a street festival or fair, or in any kind of public setting and you see a one-man band performing, know that this poor soul has been cursed by gnomes.

Or, perhaps worse, they're gnomish-adjacent madmen who aspire toward gnomedom.

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*

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.

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...

25: Moustache Wax

Now, gnomes are known for their jaunty beards, so you might wonder why moustache wax might be classified among gnomish products, yes?

But, gentle reader, if you've been paying attention at all to this blog and its vital message, you must immediately divine the insidious and invidious nature of moustache wax as yet another example of a gnomish sentiment inflicted on humanity to make us look ridiculous. I'm not sure who first got the idea, whether it was a gnome playing a prank on a Victorian man on a slow day, or whether some Victorian saw a gnome with a dolled-up moustache and, in a fit of whimsy, slapped beeswax to his face and became the sartorial toast of London for a fortnight.

Not sure who to blame, precisely, except the obvious target: gnomes. If anybody is going to wax their moustaches, it's the damned gnomes.

I bring this up especially since hipsters out there have taken to wearing beards for a number of years, now, and so it's only a matter of time (and I'm sure they're doing it as I type this, and the hippest of them have "been doing it for years") before the moustache wax meme returns in spades.

I won't give any of those twits any press by showing their moustachioed creations, so I'll simply use the venerable Rollie Fingers as an exemplar of this gnomish product and facial hair trend, and because Rollie Fingers was doing this long before any of the hipsters today did it, looked far cooler doing it, and that likely will bother them.

23: El Camino

Yes, dear reader, the El Camino represents a high (or is it low?) point in gnomish automotive engineering. The more sensitive of you might protest: "How can a semi-infamous, semi-legendary muscle car, of all things, be gnomish? Do gnomes even drive muscle cars?" And my answer is simply this: if they did drive cars, gnomes would drive El Caminos.

The El Camino, by its very nature, embodies gnomish nonsensical design aesthetics -- is it a truck? Is it a car? Is it both? Is it neither? Is it all of these things, and, yet, is also less than those things, too? Why, yes.

It is an El Camino. The neither here-nor-there aspect of the El Camino is the "tell" that reveals the gnomish design sensibilities embedded in it. The El Camino is the gnome masquerading as a badass, which shows why the car design was such an odd and contradictory fit.

While not the only gnomish vehicle out there (again, the unicycle comes directly to mind), few cars have ever skated close to the aesthetic abyss that is gnomish design sensibilities like the El Camino. There are other gnomish automobiles out there, but I had to start with the Elvis Presley of gnomish wheels. "El Camino" literally means "The Path" or "The Way." And it surely guarantees that on the road to gnomish living, you will get there fastest driving one of these babies.

20: Kitsch

I had to eventually get around to it: kitsch. Kitsch is bread-and-butter to gnomes. If the gnomes had their wicked way with the world, we'd be awash in kitsch. And click on that link on Wikipedia, and 'lo and behold, what do you see as their photographic example of kitsch? A goddamned garden gnome (right). Accident? No, I don't think so.

Kitsch is gnomish culture in a nutshell. While we officially have the Germans to blame for kitsch, the gnomes are, themselves master artisans of kitsch, which is nicely defined in the Wikipedia entry...

Kitsch (English pronunciation: /ˈkɪtʃ/, as in German) is a German word denoting art that is considered an inferior, tasteless copy of an extant style of art or a worthless imitation of art of recognized value. The concept is associated with the deliberate use of elements that may be thought of as cultural icons [1] while making cheap mass-produced objects that are unoriginal. Kitsch also refers to the types of art that are aesthetically deficient (whether or not being sentimental, glamorous, theatrical, or creative) and that make creative gestures which merely imitate the superficial appearances of art through repeated conventions and formulae. Excessive sentimentality often is associated with the term.

The term is considered derogatory, denoting works executed to pander to popular demand alone and purely for commercial purposes rather than works created as self-expression by an artist.[2] The term is generally reserved for unsubstantial and gaudy works that are calculated to have popular appeal and are considered pretentious and shallow rather than genuine artistic efforts.

You see the operative words: worthless, excessive sentimentality, tasteless -- these are words that get gnomes a'giggling from their mushroom perches. Hassle Bandicoot yucking it up with his gnomish buddies, blowing smoke rings and having a jolly laugh at mankind's expense as they foist kitsch on an unsuspecting world.

Curiously, the etymology of "kitsch" might tip the pointy hat of the gnomes...

Another highly possibly theory is that it comes from the Hungarian word kicsi Hungarian pronunciation: [ˈkɪtʃɪ]/kis [kɪʃ] meaning little or small. Most likely through Austrian German.

Little or small? Like, hmmm, a GNOME?

Kitsch is the enemy of art, and is the enemy of the artist. Kitsch must be avoided at all costs. And lest you think it's just a matter of taste...

Relationship to totalitarianism

Other theorists over time also have linked kitsch to totalitarianism and its propaganda. The Czech writer Milan Kundera, in his book The Unbearable Lightness of Being (1984), defined it as "the absolute denial of shit". He wrote that kitsch functions by excluding from view everything that humans find difficult with which to come to terms, offering instead a sanitized view of the world, in which "all answers are given in advance and preclude any questions".

In its desire to paper over the complexities and contradictions of real life, kitsch, Kundera suggested, is intimately linked with totalitarianism. In a healthy democracy, diverse interest groups compete and negotiate with one another to produce a generally acceptable consensus; by contrast, "everything that infringes on kitsch," including individualism, doubt, and irony, "must be banished for life" in order for kitsch to survive. Therefore, Kundera wrote, "Whenever a single political movement corners power we find ourselves in the realm of totalitarian kitsch."

For Kundera, "Kitsch causes two tears to flow in quick succession. The first tear says: How nice to see children running on the grass! The second tear says: How nice to be moved, together with all mankind, by children running on the grass! It is the second tear that makes kitsch kitsch."

So, you see, it's not just a matter of taste -- it's a matter of life, philosophy, art, freedom, and humanity itself! Down with kitsch! And, once again, if you know somebody who digs kitsch, they're a fellow traveler of gnomedom. Watch out!

18: Rube Goldberg Machines

I haven't delved into the gnomish addiction to contraptions too much, trying to lay the foundations of gnomedom before proceeding to its deeper mysteries, but the time is right to bring up the Rube Goldberg Machine as a terribly gnomish notion, succinctly defined as:

A Rube Goldberg machine is a deliberately over-engineered machine that performs a very simple task in a very complex fashion, usually including a chain reaction... the expression has expanded to denote any form of overly confusing or complicated system.

Over-engineered, overly confusing or complicated? Gnomish, in other words. I imagine a proper gnomish household to be full of such contraptions.

16: Unicycle

Since the Vancouver Olympics has me thinking of sportish things for the moment, don't be surprised if I throw out a few more gnomish sporty items. Like the unicycle. Once again, like the most terribly gnomish of devices and contraptions, the mere invocation of it prompts a "Yes, of course" kind of reaction in the gentle reader.

"Ooh, look at me! I may be unbalanced, but no one can doubt my sense of balance! Hoo hoo! Ha ha! Hee hee! Look at me go! I'm on a unicycle! Tra la la lee!"

While the unicycle is surely the Cadillac of gnomish wheeled contraptions, any affectedly eccentric set of wheels runs the risk of being gnomish. Even if a pint-sized gnome couldn't even reach the peddles of such a bike, they'd sure want to, and would have a great, braying brass horn on their bike, too, just to be more annoying.

Note that wearing a wacky hat and juggling while riding a unicycle while playing a kazoo is surely gnomish heaven right there, and any individual doing this is a gnome.

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!

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.

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.

3: "Funny" (Ugly) Hats

Few things are more gnomish than ugly hats. You know them when you see them. They can't simply be ugly; they have to be willfully, self-consciously "wacky" and "funny" and "weird" to really be gnomish hats. The stereotypical "gnomish cone" hat isn't enough these days. The real gnome-about-town swings for the rafters in their headwear.

The ultimate gnomish hat is the "Cat In the Hat" hat. Any person actually sporting one of these at a public event is a fucking gnome. Anybody even owning one of these is a gnome, and you should be immediately on guard about this person you only thought you knew.

Not to malign the anarchic spirit of the Cat in the Hat himself -- the coy menace he represents in that Seuss book is bold enough on its own, and has never been properly rendered outside of Seuss's writing. But the drive to wear such a hat is emblematic of gnomish impulses.

The runner-up to this hat is the beer helmet, which weds the gnomish tendency toward pointless whimsy with irritating contraptions (to be dealt with later).

Anybody wearing a beer helmet is a damned gnome. No two ways about it. And one might say "What's wrong with that?" The answer is, simply: EVERYTHING. It is a beer helmet. Human beings should not wear beer helmets.

Snowboarders are particularly susceptible to gnomish headgear, for reasons as yet unexplored. Maybe it's part of the devil-may-care culture endemic to snowboarding? I don't know.

In the case of this picture below, the girl is most definitely the gnome, here -- can't you see her smug smile, there? "Look what I did?!" She even looks like a gnome (the eyes are a dead giveaway, although I blocked them out, here). No doubt she crafted those wacky, wacky hats in a fit of contrived wackiness that plagues gnomes everywhere...

1: Balloon Animals

Balloon animals are inherently gnomish. Look! It's an animal made out of balloons! Never saw THAT coming, didja?