“______ diplomacy.”

Despite America’s contempt for international law, the United Nations Security Council and “talking it out” with other countries, there seems to be an awful lot of diplomacy going on.

Take the New York Philharmonic’s trip to North Korea, for example. The Economist called it “cultural diplomacy.” Fair enough — that’s valid. There are even schools for that (see: USC’s Center on Public Diplomacy). The New York Times? “Symphonic diplomacy.” The Boston Globe opted for both “Dvorak diplomacy” and ” U.S. violin diplomacy.” And the Los Angeles Times, currently in the process of being destroyed by Sam Zell, chose simply, “music diplomacy.”

But the conversation on diplomacy gets a bit more out there. The Cynics’ Party’s own Greg Wasserstrom recently posted about a phrase facing a similar fate: “the audacity of ____.” It seems that every lazy political commentator and his mother are just plugging whatever they damn well please into the blank spot where “hope” belongs.

The same thing is happening with diplomacy because anything, so it seems, is diplomatic.

Pandas, or “panda diplomacy.”

Here is former Deputy Secretary of State Bob Zoellick “being diplomatic” with a baby panda in China. He is now president of the World Bank.

Karaoke, or “karaoke diplomacy.”

Actual CNN caption: “Powell gets in the groove ahead of his performance.”

The list goes on, and it just gets more absurd. Whatever happened to plain, old-fashioned “diplomacy,” hmm? Let’s do ourselves a favor and stop now, before “chow chow diplomacy” and “Dance Dance Revolution diplomacy” become a part of our IR lexicon.

Bring it to the table

“What can YOU bring to the table?”

“We all have our own experiences that we bring to the table”

“With his solid background in accounting software, he really brought a lot to the table”

…Such are some of the potential uses of this trite expression.  It is an attempt at adding color and depth to a hopelessly boring dialogue through a very poor metaphor – a hypothetical table around which everyone gathers to place little nuggets of themselves for display.

Well, a lot of folks’ social interactions are not based on a straight-forward regiment as the expression implies. And a lot of us have more interesting regular experiences than sitting around a fucking TABLE. Like making fat kids sing “Dancing Queen” for peanut butter cups. Put THAT on your table.

“Super-Empowered Angry Men,” and other stories.

Oh, my dear Thomas Friedman. You and I go back a few years. I was made to read you twice, once in an attempt to classify your “globalization is the new Cold War” foreign policy views, once to prepare for a flat-chested world.

I found neither go-round satisfying (was it good for you?). It’s not that you’re not a bright guy. In fact, I thoroughly admire you for the several years you’ve spent as a foreign correspondent, from Beirut to Jerusalem. And yes, if “wealth of experience” was something measurable in dollars, you would be a globalizillionaire.

But I must say: Your personal anecdotes are suffocating. You are like an international studies undergraduate in an American University classroom:

“When i visited Dubai …”
“A funny thing happened in Kuala Lumpur …”
“The Chinese are super high-context …”

And that’s not my only beef with you, Mr. Friedman. There’s something about your phraseology that speaks of true pomposity. Your formula, were it on the side of a shampoo bottle, would be “analogize, capitalize, repeat.” Let’s take your reference to terrorists in your 1999 book, “The Lexus and the Olive Tree,” shall we? For you, they can’t simply be terrorists. Nay, they become pawns in your categorization scheme — “Super-Empowered Angry Men” tricked by the elusive joys of globalization.

Forget the fact that the “Golden Straitjacket” analogy reminds me of golden showers, and let’s focus on the fact that it just doesn’t work. Oh, and I forgot. IT’S POMPOUS TO CAPITALIZE THINGS. It is so frighteningly reminiscent of the Bible (I didn’t know you were such a fan of His work!) that I can’t. deal.

This does nothing to diminish my respect for you as an important voice out there, dissecting global affairs and telling us how all the pieces fit together. I’m glad you’re there, writing your own version of what’s what. I just wish you wrote it humbler.

giving it the old college try.

what does it mean, to give a thing “the old college try?” is this supposed to be an oxymoron? i ask only because personal experience has shown me that many among the collegiate bunch do not, in fact “try” very hard at anything, unless that “anything” is:

1. boning a hot chick.
2. popping a collar.
3. making grunting noises whilst lifting weights at the gym.
4. drinking to (in)capacity.
5. understanding what dave matthews really means when he sings, “don’t drink the water.” the bong water?

in any event: any insight into the linguistic origins of “the old college try” would be much appreciated. thank you.

heart of hearts.

ever heard someone claim to know something for certain, in his/her “heart of hearts?” 

newsflash: they don’t know “shit from shinola” (see DelectablePhrases.com). 

first of all , this Detestable Phrase violates the laws of anatomical correctness. even the makers of the classic kids-play-doctor game “operation,” who incorrectly constructed their version of the human body with a WISHBONE, fashioned their hospital patient with only one heart. sadly, the heart is “broken,” perhaps because the patient has an unfortunate bowl-cut.  

second of all, your heart doesn’t know things – your brain  does. i tend to think that someone who knows something, in his/her “heart of hearts” doesn’t really know anything at all. all this “heart of hearts” nonsense is probably derivative of the saying “the heart knows,” but honestly, whenever i’ve “gone with my heart,” i’ve mostly just embarrassed myself. 

third of all, this kind of phraseology is touchy-feely tripe. it’s meant as a token of assurance – of certainty – but it never serves to make anyone feel any better about anything. the person who knows something in his/her heart of hearts probably also claims to be  “a little psychic.” oh yeah? well, i’m a little skeptic(al). 

Get the toxins out.

Enjoy pseudo-science?

In describing their own or another’s state of health, some people will pay considerable heed to a term used non-specifically to refer to any substance claimed to cause ill health. This is the concept of bodily “toxins.”

Just what are the toxins, where do they come from, and how can they be eliminated, you ask? Quite simply, the toxins are microscopic gremlins that accumulate in the body as a result of poor diet, lack of exercise, excessive drinking, and stress. The long term effects of the toxins include malaise, fatigue, and spiritual emptiness. They can be eliminated or “flushed out” through yoga, massage therapy, plenty of water, saunas, and consuming raw vegetables. Doing any of these things will cause the toxins to transform into vapor and flee the temple that is your body.

In other word, the toxins are complete horseshit created by neurotic twits with no medical or scientific background. And no amount of filtered water can flush that kind of mental sewage away.

WARNING: If there really is a toxin in your bloodstream, you may need to seek medical attention immediately, as it could kill you.

munchkin.

children are made to bear an unfair share of the detestable phrases load. they’re labeled “tykes” and “youngsters,” all at an age when they’re too young to defend themselves. worst of all, though, is when someone calls them “munchkins.”  someone says “munchkin,” and my reaction one of the following: 

1. extreme discomfort.

2. extreme hunger. 

neither reaction bodes well for a child. for safety reasons, children should never be equated with oz creatures or delicious orbs. it’s just common sense.   

in the weeds.

*

*note: NOT A DIY DRAWING, DUDES. sorry to disappoint.

i have a friend who’s basically a super-genius, and she has a job in the consulting business. honestly, i have no idea what consultants do, besides throw ideas around.

now, there are a number of things you can say at the consulting roundtable when an idea is just too detailed:

a) call a spade a spade: “your idea is too detailed.”

b) highlight an alternative: “we’re going for something simpler here.”

c) be “that guy”: “we don’t want to get in the weeds here”/”this is too in the weeds”/”we’re in the weeds on that one.”   

“OK, well? you know what? shut up,” my super-genius friend would like to retort. unfortunately, once “that guy” opens the door on consultant-speak, all sorts of other gems start flying out (i.e. “leveraging” and “interfacing” with others. why not just talk?). 

as a preventative measure, it’s best just not to get in the weeds at all, under any circumstances. don’t go near the weeds. poison ivy. instead, be vague; consultants will love you for it — though they’ll likely laud your “big-picture mindset.”     

EURO-TWIT DOUBLEHEADER: “across the pond” and “the continent”

this is why “across the pond” DOES NOT WORK AS LANGUAGE:

1. the atlantic ocean is not a pond. in fact, according to enchantedlearning.com, the area of the atlantic is approximately 33,420,000 square miles. oh, and it’s 12,881 feet deep, on average. how how low can it go? TRY OVER 28,000 FEET.

2. according to wikipedia, “a pond is a body of water smaller than a lake.” and i’m pretty sure that lakes are smaller than seas are smaller than oceans.

thus. going “across the pond” is not a hop, nor a skip, nor a jump away, as your average cosmopolitan jetsetter with a pashmina would have you believe.

secondly, let’s talk about people who refer to europe as “the continent.” yes, these silly intellectuals exist, and many of them carry moleskine journals around with them to prove it. one of my oxford-educated colleagues, who now lives on an island near the continent called the united kingdom, once had to endure an afternoon in a DC coffee shop spent listening to a table full of east-coasters discuss the superiority of “the continent.” other topics of conversation included: the inferiority of the american midwest, something about how no one in the state of missouri can make a good cocktail, and another something about how homeless folk are loathsome.

please: if you refer to europe as “the continent,” please kindly step across the pond and live on said continent. THX.

Gentlemen…

The detestability of this phrase is reserved to its usage in non-formal settings among the twenty-something male population as a greeting toward other “bros.” There is a certain subtlety to this phrase that sets it apart from many of the other utterances in our catalogue. It is best illustrated by an example: Picture any douche-bag in law school you may know entering a sports bar during happy hour to meet his friends. He approaches them at the bar with a swaggering stride and gives one of his comrades a double high-five. “Gentlemen,” he proclaims smugly in the place of a “hello” or “whats up?” This is to make it clear that this is no ordinary get-together, but rather is the beginning of a very special male-bonding ritual that will endure many Coors lights throughout the evening.
Of course this greeting can be applied endlessly to other types of dude gatherings and can even be replaced with “Gents,” but hopefully the above scenario accurately reflects its essentially detestable “flavor.”