Mars hoax and quaint new words

Many will be disappointed to learn that a supposed celestial phenom earmarked for this month won’t happen at all. First off, the Red Planet won’t appear like a second moon.

Careful readers of what’s gone around the Internet about Mars’ supposedly epochal approach to Earth ("NO ONE ALIVE TODAY WILL EVER SEE THIS AGAIN!" etc.), noted the fine print of a qualifier – that with the aid of 75x magnification, Mars will appear as large as the full moon to the naked eye.

Of course. With the aid of magnification, even the littlest lie would appear bright and humongous at a Senate hearing or Palace press con. (I didn’t say luminous.)

The rains of August have been obscuring the skies, but a lot of us were hoping that a break in bed weather would have us engage in this treat on an open field like Ateneo’s Bellarmine, or better yet, at the UP Observatory if the Loyolan one’s ceased to function.

The pass-on alert started circulating last month. It said that the little green men’s planet was last this close 5,000 years ago, and that it wouldn’t occur again until after 60,000 years! And that the "male" planet’s closest approach would be on August 27. Why, our San Beda HS Class 1960 even arranged for a get-together last Saturday so we could perchance view the Red Ball together, besides discussing the Bedista Plaza project that involves the individual purchase of red bricks to upgrade a campus quadrangle of dear nostalgia.

We realize now that we’ve been had (not on the red brick road proposal). The "Mars attacks" alert is a retread of a factual one that came out exactly two years ago. So I’m sure we would have had to pass up on the neck-craning, and simply focused on the red wine and Johnnie Green or Blue, and maybe discussed the comparative merits of Viagra and Cialis. No historic get-together there, either way.

What tipped me off was a set of clippings that somehow resurfaced from among a foot-tall pile of accumulated newspaper tear-sheets – spelling trivia curiosa – of the past four years. They were dated August 2003, and all said that Mars would be closest to Earth since 59,540 years previous – which means as far back as the Ice Age – on August 27, 2003. And that the next such approach (at over 50 million kilometers apart) would not occur until August 28, 2287. Why, hello and goodbye, Garci.

So, someone foolish and with time on his hands (a dangerous combination, like jueteng and electoral campaigns), recycled those reports last month and would have us looking forward to a repeat only two years later. Now that we know better, those who have feared extraordinarily physical acts of aggression this month may rest easy, while the war freaks hoping for an uncivil confrontation can now afford to be disheartened. All they can pray for is that the violent drama associated with Augusts in our history holds up to speed this year, if not the next.

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What we can look forward to is the revised second edition of the Oxford Dictionary of English, fresh off the press. The largest single-volume dictionary of current English reportedly includes many new words, siempre. From what I’ve read of advance reviews, however, the neologisms that gained entry seem mostly of Brit usage, like "undercrackers" for men’s underpants or "pelmet" which is "slang for a very short skirt."

There are cute portmanteaus or word-mergers such as "chugger" for "charity mugger or a person who approaches passers-by in the street asking for donations or subscriptions to a charity," and "greige" which is "the colour between grey and beige."

The Guardian reports further: "The dictionary contains many more insulting words than compliments. It has 350 ways of insulting someone, but only 40 compliments such as ‘lush’ (meaning ‘very good’). Insults include old-fashioned favorites such as ‘clot’ or ‘chump’ and the more modern ‘muppet’ or ‘fribble’ and ‘gink.’

"There are 50 ways to describe attractive women, including ‘eye candy’ and ‘cutie,’ but only 20 ways of describing good-looking men – ‘Greek god’ being an extremely handsome man.

"The list also reflects the increasing influence of our multicultural society." Cited is the inclusion of "Hinglish" for "a blend of Hindi and English characterised by frequent use of Hindi vocabulary or constructions." So what about "Singlish" for Singaporean English, or our dynamic "Taglish"?

Among other new words and phrases we’ve already become familiar with are: "phishing: the fraudulent practice of sending emails purporting to be from reputable companies to induce individuals to reveal personal information online" and "infinity pool: a swimming pool whose positioning gives the impression that it merges into the surrounding landscape, especially the sea"

Fresh terms that don’t exactly grab us are "dramedy: a television program or film in which the comedy elements derive mainly from the character and plot development"; "sin-jay: a DJ who raps and sings as part of their performance"; and "podcast: a digital recording of a radio broadcast or similar programme, made available on the Internet for downloading to a personal audio player."

Well, perhaps that last one may follow "addy" or "spam" or "blog" and "blogging" into our consciousness, given the quick acceptance of Internet and techie terms. But only canine lovers might cheer for the "cocakapoo: A dog that is a cross-breed of an American cocker spaniel and a miniature poodle."

While the dictionary draws on the Oxford Reading Program, the world’s largest language research program, whose databases contain hundreds of millions of words of English, it is also said to "gather evidence from song lyrics and chat rooms."

Clearly, however, it is still naturally skewed towards familiar sources, unmindful of, say, our own carefree efforts to colonize this second language, whether by way of sporadic homegrown effusions that turn trendy over time, or through our "diasporadic" global excursions which are certainly of epic, epochal proportions.

I don’t know if "dramedy" will ever take off in our part of the world, where "telenovela" has already gained much currency. Nor would "handy" for mobile phone be accepted; we already call it "cell phone" or refer to it as "CP" when "texting." Come to think of it, we’ll have to see if "text" has acquired a new meaning in this dictionary. It better, else we accuse those Oxford word mavens of "stonewalling" like the best of our "ladies-in-jueteng."

The Brits should consider contributions to the King’s English from far-away empires of deconstruction and devolution. Such as ours. Why, in our neck of the woods a brief season has produced new meanings for old workhorses of terminology.

"Witness prevention program," for instance, is a quaint spin-off from the regular one involving "protection." "Whistleblower" should gain fresh respect for the cycles of "canary-singing" and recantation such a vocation has to undergo. "Exorcism" can now mean any publicity stunt conducted by a media-savvy priest bored of running or fasting.

There oughta be a special note on the modern evolution of the use of ribbons, to include the metaphoric. Only in da Pilipins, it might offer, are there peculiarly distinct applications such as "blue ribbon" for a Congressional committee, "red ribbon" for a bakeshop, "yellow ribbon" to honor the man who said Filipinos are worth dying for, and now the "white ribbon" campaign to get somebody to realize that the Filipino is also worth resigning for.

We’ve already supplied "Imeldific" and "Marcosian" for world usage. Maybe we can propose the inclusion of – okay, besides "Gloriagate" – yet another awesome neologism: "Gonzalism." Not a contraction of "Gonzo journalism," mind you, but to mean any verbal act of campy humor, if unintended, that issues from the foot-encumbered mouth of a Minister of Justice ready and avid to take on all comers. But then it should be pointed out that in its country of provenance, "justice" is not only blind but is hardly ever visible.