Month: May 2019

Posted on

Hyper

Today’s Word of the Day is “hypermnesia.”  This means literally, “too much memory.”  Which brings to mind the question, “How much is too much?” But my guess is, there’s a different answer to that question when it comes to “chocolate” versus “stress.” Am I right?  Yeah, I thought so.

But first, let me kvetch a bit, because I really hate this particular Word of the Day which was delivered to my inbox as usual this morning from Merriam Webster.  <Now there’s a Word worth remembering: “kvetch.”  Also “toochis.”  But with that, I’ve exhausted my lifetime supply of Yiddish – so, whatchagonna do, eh?  Or maybe better, “Oy!”>

As everyone knows, “hyper” means “too much” of something.  So, “hyperhydrosis” is too much sweating. “Hyperphagia” is too much eating.  And “logorrhea” is…. <oh, no, wait – different Latin root – sorry>.  On the flip side, “hypo” means too little of something.  So we have words like “hypothermia” for too little heat.  Or “hyponatremia” for too little serum sodium.  And “hypomania” for… <darn it, leave it to those crazy psychiatrists to mix things up on us – oh well>.

The fact is, you might make up an infinite number of your own hypo- and hyper- words by combining various Latin or Greek roots and no one could ever argue with you.  But you also might have a hard time being understood in casual conversation.  Well, unless your listener is fresh out of Latin-and-Greek-101 – or maybe med school?  But I digress.  Anyway, bottom line, sticking “hyper” next to “mnesia” (meaning, memory) makes a perfectly legitimate word.  But to my mind, it’s kind of pretentious.  Why not just say “photographic memory” and leave it at that?  But that’s just me.

Anyway, here’s the Merriam Webster shtick (more Yiddish!) for “hypermnesia.”

Enjoy, I guess.

 

hypermnesia

noun
hy·​perm·​ne·​sia | \ ˌhī-(ˌ)pərm-ˈnē-zh(ē-)ə

Definition of hypermnesia

 

: abnormally vivid or complete memory or recall of the past

Remember the History of hypermnesia?

 

Perhaps the most famous individual to exhibit hypermnesia was a Russian man known as “S,” whose amazing photographic memory was studied for 30 years by a psychologist in the early part of the 20th century. “Hypermnesia” sometimes refers to cases like that of “S,” but it can also refer to specific instances of heightened memory (such as those brought on by trauma or hypnosis) experienced by people whose memory abilities are unremarkable under ordinary circumstances. The word hypermnesia, which has been with us since at least 1882, was created in New Latin as the combination of “hyper-” (meaning “beyond” or “super”) and “-mnesia” (patterned after “amnesia” which means “no memory” of course). It ultimately derives from the Greek word mnasthai, meaning “to remember.”

 

Hey, no need to get all hyper!
Oy!  Such a useful guide!
Posted on

Machiavellian

Today is your lucky day.  It’s two-for-one-Friday.  That means you get Word of the Day – “Machiavellian,” meaning literally “like Machiavelli” – plus This Day in History too.   Niccolo Machiavelli was born on this day in 1649.  Oh man, what fun!  Read on if you dare.

Like a lot of historical figures with a bad rap, Machiavelli wasn’t nearly as bad in real life.  For much of his life the guy was just an out-of-work philosopher.  (Is there any other kind?)  “The Prince” is the work for which he is best remembered.  It depicts a prototypical ruthless and amoral tyrant.  He answers his own signature question – “Is it better for a good leader to be loved, or feared?” – with a rousing vote in favor of fear.

What a lot of people don’t realize is that Machiavelli wrote “The Prince” as a sort of job essay to gain favor with the the powerful Medici family.  Much of his other writing is far less incendiary.   All this came to pass after he had been imprisoned, tortured, and exiled from his native land for “conspiracy.”  Alas, his Princely portrait, modeled on the shrewd and cunning Papal-state strongman Cesare Borgia, fell on mostly deaf ears.  What’s a down-on-his-luck philosopher to do?  Well, in Machiavelli’s case the answer was, “Publish posthumously.”  Yikes!

 

********

 

Machiavelli was first and foremost a Florentine patriot.  During his lifetime, internecine conflict among weak and warring Italian states was both contributing cause and prime product of the reigning political disarray.  It was a vicious cycle that literally destroyed all hope of peace and prosperity.  So maybe it’s not so surprising that Machiavelli would see a brutal opportunist like Cesare Borgia as the answer to the burning political dilemma of his day.  Actually his formula was a bit more nuanced than we now remember.  He said, “It’s best to be both loved AND feared.  But if you only get to pick ONE?  Pick fear.”

Is there ever a time when noble ends like peace and unity are justified by means of diabolical expediency?  I suppose that depends partly on how desperate one has become. In Machiavelli’s case, the point was moot.  He died embittered and excluded from the political process in his beloved Florence.  It’s almost enough to turn one into… well, a Machiavellian.

I guess the lesson here might be, forget about “loved” and “feared.”  If you’re a political philosopher writing commentary advocating less-than-noble tactics, for heavens’ sake don’t alienate your patrons – and your peers – with the unvarnished truth.  At least try to appear noble.

And if that doesn’t pan out?  Well, I’m told a knife between the ribs works wonders.  But please, don’t quote me on that.  No sense wearing the label “Machiavellian” if you don’t have to.

Posted on

Walpurgisnacht

This one didn’t make it onto your Hallmark calendar, you say? Oh well, read on anyway… if you dare.

 

********

 

Back in the late 70’s at the University of Chicago we had a late-winter tradition called “Walpurgisnacht.” Somehow all these years later I thought I remembered it as being in the dead of winter, maybe around the time of the Winter Solstice?  But like a lot of things having to do with my misspent youth, it turns out I had my dates wrong.  (Go figure.)  Maybe because, this time of year, Chicago still feels like the dead of winter?

In any case, according to Wikipedia, the “The feast day of Saint Walpurga is celebrated on the night of April 30th and the day of May 1st.” And for those of you keeping score at home, that would be last night and today. And who, pray tell, is “Saint Walpurga,” I hear you ask? Again, from Wikipedia:

 

Saint Walpurga, an 8th-century abbess in Francia, was hailed by the Christians of Germany for battling “pest, rabies and whooping cough, as well as against witchcraft.” In Germanic folklore, Hexennacht (Dutch: heksennacht), literally “Witches’ Night”, was believed to be the night of a witches’ meeting on the Brocken, the highest peak in the Harz Mountains, a range of wooded hills in central Germany between the rivers Weser and Elbe.  Christians prayed to God through the intercession of Saint Walpurga in order to protect themselves from witchcraft, as she was successful in converting the local populace to Christianity. In some parts of Christendom, people continue to light bonfires on Saint Walpurga’s Eve in order to ward off evil spirits and witches

 

********

 

At Chicago in the late 70’s, this appealed to our quirky sense of history, if not to our innate piety.  Mostly, though, it was just an excuse for students to blow off steam and dance naked around bonfires on the Midway before Spring Break.  You know, while the weather was still too cold for the sane part of the population of the South Side to venture outdoors around midnight?  As such, I guess you can just think of it as a glorified study break – with adult beverages and historical footnotes.

Of course, I myself (being a pre-med) didn’t have time for such shenanigans: I studied straight through to Finals. (That’s my story and I’m sticking with it.)  But I do recall a guy from a neighboring dorm room who went to Walpurgisnacht dressed in… peanut butter.  That’s right, only peanut butter, nothing else. Rumor had it, he also wore a bagel – I won’t say where – but as far as I’m concerned, that’s just crazy-talk.  I mean, believe me, the peanut butter was bad enough.  As anyone who was there can attest, it stank up our 10th-floor hallway for days afterward. But the thought of wasting a good bagel like that?  Sacrilege!

 

********

 

As it turns out, some traditions live on.  Consider THIS STORY from today’s DP, about students at CSU in Ft. Collins.  Maybe they don’t call it Walpurgisnacht anymore, but I do believe the underlying spirit is the same.

 

Happy Walpurgisnacht, y’all!

Walpurgisnacht it ain't!
Photo Credit: Denver Post.       CSU official:  “Please help us end this unauthorized gathering, which causes harm to your fellow Rams.”

 

All I can say is, just be glad there’s no peanut butter.

Or bagels.