We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
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Thursday, August 30. 2007
Driving this weekend? Here's a car game we like: The Homonym Game. This game is mentally addictive. You are "out" when you get stuck. You win more prestige by using polysyllabic words.
see - sea
There are hundreds of 'em so the game is good for at least an hour or two. Your brain will continue to generate homonyms for an hour after you quit and turn to counting Michigan license plates (assuming you are not in Michigan).
Posted by Bird Dog in The Culture, "Culture," Pop Culture and Recreation at 07:15 | Comments (20) | Trackbacks (0)
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you are too smart. who plays games like this in the car? first generation immigrants here and we have't developed to the homonym game playing level yet. I am just glad I know have GPS and no longer need to understand the map.
The painter didn’t see how making his muse blue and dulling her inspiration to matte distraction led to their mutual frustration and an air of hostile exchange in which ad hominem was sent instead of kisses of the brush on canvas and the scent of linseed and oils vibrantly filling the room in the artist hostel by the prussian blue sea, the remotest of mews where the wind whipped and blew, and where they were wont to play games of homonym and heteronym, their drink spilling in carmine and amber puddles onto the mat beneath them serving as palette.
Your lithium is not working and you may need something stronger, like kryptonite.
Interesting. My friends tell me I’m too grounded and logical, first-born and all. That was just an attempt to use all words in one sentence after I showed this game to somebody and she challenged me to do so (ah, she’s not on mood or mind-altering drugs, either, just a creative and published author). Surely you could do better than this intentional imitation of a cheesy romance novel. Would have offered more homonyms-- we came up with some good ones, but your post said something about not wanting to collect them here.
She’ll get a laugh at your kind response! I forgot to sign before,
No, we'll collect 'em in comments. I just didn't want a long list on the post. I think there must be over 1000 good ones.
Well, this is a long-dead thread, but/butt for/fore/four the record in/inn the Ethernet and b/c I/eye/aye received a humorous email from someone yesterday asking about “that” sentence above and also given fun allusions elsewhere to/too/two tediously affected/effected writing, please allow me/mi to make a clearer disclaimer:
The sentence was supposed to be/bee awful/offal! If I were/whir any better/bettor at writing, it would/wood have/half been/bin made/maid terrible in a brilliant way/weigh/whey, but/butt I had to settle for a five-minute stab at bad, to include a 30 second search for obscure meanings of “mews.”
Perhaps also should say, after offering that execrable sentence, that moody artists, seasides, sunsets, sentimental poetry, and wine/whine and roses aren’t every woman’s idea of romance. The hard light of day works better for some/sum.
Easter blessings and egg salad sandwiches to all!
Oh, to die/dye/Di...
And that last sentence should have ended with all/awl.
Cataories and Letters, a JFK favorite
The Homomens game sounds great and challenging. If the car isn't equipped with video junk it's a great alternative.
Another game , should Homo-mens exhaust it's participants is Catagories and Letters , a favorite of JFK, his pre Dallas days.
Choose a cataory such as soaps or detergents, cars are a great catagory....begine with the alphabet and in seriatim go around with each person naming a car( or model of oa manufacturer) with their letter eg. A..Audi next player B..Bughatti if within a reasonalble time the player cannot name an item it goes to the next person. If that person names one the previous person gets a strike against them...three strikes you're eliminated.
Once playing this with some frat brothers on the way to the 12 Hour sports car race at Sebring we got to Z, and the catagory was soaps,detergents ,household cleaners...I said ZUD ...to a person they pooh poohed my answer. I held steady and force a short stop at the closest grocery store...bingo ZUD on the shelf.... they later left me in Sebring, several hundred miles fom Gainesville...I had to thumb a ride ..then I made 'em pay.
(gratuitous remark here,just for Habuian continuity..I think those frat bros were all Socialist Democrats)
anybody that would strand a bro might as well be a democrat, for all practical porpoises.
There was "ghost", where the players had to avoid spelling a word. A letter at a turn, objective to make no word, but to have one in mind, verifiable by challenge. Complete a word, or fail a challenge, either in the making or receiving, and you're out. Players can only challenge in turn, and then only the previous play. No two letter words allowed--maybe no three-letters either (can't remember).
Then there was "who am I?", which involved picking out a well-known person, and then fielding yes/no questions in-turn until the winner guesses who you is. Players can keep asking until they get a "no", then it passes to the next player. No fair being the kid who sat behind you in the second grade --has to be someone everyone's heard of. Hmm, of whom heard of everyone has. No, of whom of heard has everyone.
“Autumn Versus” bye Walled Witmen
Passed the basil knight of grade nice bust buy diamonds
And inn too ferry mourning missed of late year’s purled do,
Over Ceres of awed lees and veils of beach and guilded cops
With Leeves suede two fate bye swirling heir and earthy rue
And Brookes that coarse and Babel-sing an epoch corral
Of lossed horizon, a literal idol of prayer-ie lock and won manse aisle,
Limbed like cruel on muslin buy feint loon and Soul now boulder
with heard of boosh, flour phlox, and stands of beest that wile…
Do i need to offer a reward for the correct translation? Maybe a gneiss plack.
Past the basal night of grayed gneiss bussed by diamonds
And in to fairy morning mist of late year’s pearled dew,
over series of odd leas and vales of beech and gilded copse
with leaves swayed to fete by swirling air and earthy roux
and brooks that course and babble-sing an epic chorale
of lost horizon, a littoral idyll of prairie loch and one man’s isle,
limned like crewel on muslin by faint lune and Sol now bolder
with herd of bush, flower flocks, and stands of beasts that while…
Ah, the good old days when you could take your time getting to the point and to the action.
Yes, everything’s rush, rush, rush these days. I had a point in mind and some inspiring action to come around line 78 or so after the first sentence was completed, but the constraint of writing in homonym was too much, even for me. Will finish next week and read it to my 2 cats who are always appreciative, esp when I throw in a little fish roe and cream for our literary events.
(When I adopt a dog in a couple of months, am resigned to it eating any manuscript I produce. Puppies are tough critics.)