Nshima & Curry

Bacronyms from Bhargava

B.D. Bhargava of Agra, India, has created what he says is the world's first and only dictionary of bacronyms. According to Wikipedia, a bacronym is "a phrase that is constructed 'after the fact' from a previously existing word or abbreviation, the abbreviation being an initialism or an acronym."

Bhargava's collection, which he created with help from his daughter, includes more than 4,000 words, which is pretty impressive, considering that some of the words are quite long. I've occasionally tried creating bacronyms for my columns, without knowing that I was bacronyming:

When it came to inventing things, Dongah was out of his element, overshadowed by a caveman named Hongah, widely considered the greatest inventor of his time, having created what he called the "female-impressing raging energy" (FIRE). Unfortunately for Hongah, fire didn't impress many women, partly because they could no longer relax in the evening. They were now expected to cook. [Link]

I couldn't imagine coming up with more than 4,000 bacronyms, so I tip my hat to Bhargava, who, at 75, has a rather inventive mind.

Here are some examples of Bhargava's bacronyms, a few of them rather amusing:

ACTION: Anticipating Certain Trouble Initiate Operation Now.

BEST: By Every Standard Tops

BLARE: Blow Loudly Almost Ruining Eardrums

BOW: Bend Over Willingly

CLIP: Conveniently Lock In Place

CRAM: Constantly Repeat And Memorize.

DATE: Dote Around Touching Erotically 

DIG: Doggedly Impact Ground 

EAR: Earliest Audio Receptor

FLOP: Film Low On Popularity

PACK: Pile And Cautiously Keep

PATIENCE: Perseverance And Tolerance In Extremely Nasty Circumstances Even

RIP: Ruin Items Permanently 

STOMACH: Sensitive Turbulent Organ, Metabolism Activity Conducted Here

UMPIRE Unusually Meticulous Person, Imposes Rules Expertly

VOTE: Voice Of The Electorate

(More bacronyms can be seen at his blog. Email him at bdtara@yahoo.com)

Column: Good spelling saves some yelling

Because I'm Indian, many people assume I'm good at spelling. After all, six of the last 10 winners of the National Spelling Bee are of Indian descent and three of them are now making millions on the PSA (Professional Spelling Association) tour.

Unfortunately, I'm a terrible speller. It's a good thing I can do a spell-check on my computer or I'd really embrace myself.

Spelling is a good skill to have -- and not just for writers. If you can't spell words correctly, your boss might give you a peace of his mind. And as a result, you won't have any piece of mind.

Spelling is particularly important in certain professions. If you're a tattoo artist, for example, it's a good idea to know how to spell because -- and I'm going out on a limb here -- few of your customers will be former spelling bee champions. Customers can get quite angry when they discover they have a permanent misspelling on their posterior.

Customer: "You idiot! Look what you wrote: 'My hart belongs to Tommy.'"

Tattoo artist (scratching head): "What's wrong with that?"

Customer: "It's supposed to be Tammy!"

Tattoo artist: "No problem, dude. I'll just change the O to an A. It won't look too bad."

Customer: "Okay, man. And I'll do the same with your check -- change the 0 to an A. It won't look too bad."

Heroes we can toast -- not roast

Heroes come in all shapes and sizes, all stripes and species. Just when you think you know what a hero looks like, one of them surprises you.

In a classic 'believe it or not' example, a pet rabbit was being hailed a hero last night after saving his owners from a house fire.

The bunny - surprisingly enough called Rabbit - woke up his owners by scratching at their bedroom door when fire began to spread through the rest of their Melbourne home.

Allowed to roam free through the house, it could have been a case of 'run Rabbit, run Rabbit, run, run, run,' - the bunny could have high-tailed it through a cat flat or even a gap in a window as the flames took hold.

But instead, he headed for the bedroom door and began furiously scratching away, creating enough noise to wake up Mr Gerry Finn and his wife Michelle.

When jewellery-maker Mr Finn opened the bedroom door to find out what all the commotion was, he was beaten back by smoke and heat.

He grabbed Rabbit, ushered his wife outside and then called on the help of neighbours to help him fight the blaze before four fire crews arrived to dampen things down.

'There's absolutely no doubt that Rabbit saved our lives,' Mrs Finn said last night.

'He alerted us in the nick of time. We were both fast asleep and we might not have got out in time if we hadn't heard the scratching. [Link]

I never thought rabbits could be heroes. Then again, I never thought scratching could be heroic.

You may think the incident is just a fluke, that the rabbit didn't really know what it was doing. Then what do you say about all the other "Super Rabbits"? There's Colby, who also saved a family from a fire; Dory, who saved the life of a diabetic man; Robin, who saved the life of a diabetic woman; and probably countless other rabbits who just didn't want any media attention for their good deeds.

Like a lot of people, I've had a little rabbit, and let me tell you, I didn't care for the taste. My wife and I saw rabbit meat in a grocery store in Indiana and thought we'd give it a try. But it just didn't appeal to us. Perhaps we didn't use a good recipe or perhaps rabbit is an acquired taste. In any case, the only rabbits I encounter these days are the ones that often enter our yard. My children like watching them through the window. So far, they haven't done anything heroic, aside from eating a weed or two. More often, they attack my lettuce and spinach, making me wish I had an appreciation for rabbit stew.

Photo by Kodama

Column: Swap a kidney, but don't try to buy one

Anyone want to swap a kidney?

No, I don't need one, but Lois Wilson's husband, Dave, does. The British Columbia woman recently placed an ad on the classified site Craigslist, seeking another couple to swap kidneys with. Basically, if you need a kidney and Lois's kidney happens to match yours, and if your partner can spare a kidney that happens to match Dave's, the kidney swap can take place, as long as the authorities approve and neither kidney files a motion in court.

Thankfully, kidneys can't hire attorneys -- they don't have enough money -- but even so, finding a kidney is a major challenge, almost as difficult as finding a comb in Don King's house.

That's why Lois and others are willing to do swaps. It's officially known as the "live donor paired kidney exchange program" and is legal in at least two provinces in Canada. The "kidney exchange program" is sort of like the "student exchange program" that everyone is familiar with, except that kidneys stay for an indefinite period and are more hard-working.

Kidneys are extremely important to us. According to Wikipedia, kidneys have numerous roles within our bodies, including "excreting waste products, regulating blood pressure, secreting a variety of hormones and ensuring that the spleen feels totally inadequate."

Despite their importance, we tend to take our kidneys for granted. We spend more time thinking about our heart, our lungs and, at least three times a day, our stomach. Even when we go to the bathroom, we hardly ever think of our kidneys, unless we've had too much to drink and run into the towel rack. "Ouch! My kidney!"

Most of us will never have any kidney trouble, will never have to worry about searching for a replacement.  We can concentrate on replacing other things, such as our hair, our teeth and our "Hillary for President" bumper sticker.

Naveed Mahbub, stand-up comedian from Bangladesh

Naveed has some funny material. I especially liked this short bit. He's a relative newcomer to stand-up comedy, but with lots of potential.

A native of Bangladesh, Mahbub got his start telling jokes in Bengali to family and friends. He decided to try his hand at comedy in English after coming to the United States to attend the University of Michigan.

“I found out I was able to translate a lot of humor into English ... among my college friends or my co-workers,” Mahbub said. “I found I actually had some advantage because I'm new to this culture and I was seeing America from a different angle.”

Mahbub took a comedy course with Sandy Shore (sister of comedian Pauly Shore) at the Comedy Club in La Jolla.

“At the end of the eight weeks, I had to do a showcase in front of a live audience, which I did, and I sucked, but ... I've been going to open-mikes and trying to improve myself.”

The practice has paid off. Mahbub nabbed the Best Male Comic title at the Play Vegas Stage at this year's Las Vegas Comedy Festival.

Through the use of observational self-derisive humor, Mahbub hopes to expose people to a different side of issues they might not otherwise consider, such as outsourcing, arranged marriages and his Muslim faith. [Link]

Naveed shatters stereotypes whenever he performs.

Mother: "I heard you went to the Las Vegas Comedy Festival. How was it?"

Son: "It was great. They even had a Muslim comedian."

Mother: "A Muslim? How was he?"

Son: "He killed! He absolutely killed!"

Rushdie: Let democracy reign

NEW YORK, July 11 (MNN) -- Salman Rushdie, who has just won the Best of the Booker prize through online and text voting, says he now believes all literary contests should be determined by public voting. "It has worked well for American Idol," he said. "I don't see why it shouldn't work for the Booker and Pulitzer prizes. We need to accept that we live in an increasingly democratic world, filled with people who know fine literature when they see it."

Rushdie's novel "Midnight's Children" beat five other shortlisted books, all former Booker winners, after garnering 36 percent of the votes cast by 7,801 people. Observers believe that Rushdie had a big advantage over the other authors, partly because he was able to convince all his ex-wives to vote for him.

"If he was able to do that, he deserves to win," said CNN host Larry King, who has been married seven times. "I can't even get my ex-wives to take my calls."

John Shaw, a book reviewer who had thrown his support behind another shortlisted book, JM Coetzee's "Disgrace," called the entire contest a disgrace. "I'm sure there was some vote-rigging going on," Shaw said, accusing Rushdie of getting tips from Zimbabwe President Robert Mugabe. "There's always a risk of that. That's why I wanted Jimmy Carter to oversee the voting."

Book publisher David Putnam, who supported JG Farrell's "The Siege Of Krishnapur," urged Booker prize administrators to reveal how many of Rushdie's votes came from India. "I have nothing against India," he said, "but there are more than a billion people there, many of whom have cell phones and internet access. Rushdie would be guaranteed to win any contest if he just received votes from one percent of all guys named 'Salman'"

He noted that Rushdie's candidacy for the Best of the Booker prize had been promoted on a number of websites created in India, including GoRushdie.com, VoteEarlyVoteOften.com and Vote4MyUncleSalman.com.

Putnam and others believe the voting was particularly unfair to Farrell, who wasn't able to canvass for votes, largely because he happens to be dead. "I couldn't arrange any special appearances or book signings for him," Putnam said. "Unfortunately, very few people participated in our 'Visit a Famous Author's Grave' tour."

Mandeep Singh, professor of literature at University of Punjab, Philadelphia Campus (UPPC), said he hopes no other literary prize is determined through public voting. "It may seem like a good idea," he said, "but do we really want to entrust such decisions to the same people who re-elected George W. Bush?"

Amitava Ghosh, assistant professor of English at Penn State University, agreed with Singh. "Nobody is really too upset about Rushdie winning the Best of the Booker award," he said, "but imagine what everyone will say when John Grisham is awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature."

Malpractice in medicine and journalism

Dr. Dipak Desai, a wealthy gastroenterologist in Las Vegas, had his medical license suspended in February for allegedly endangering his patients.

Authorities investigating a cluster of hepatitis C cases had observed clinic nurses reusing syringes in a manner that contaminated vials of medication and, they believe, infected patients. This dangerous practice, according to city investigators, was done at the direction of Desai and other administrators.

Desai's medical license has been suspended as authorities continue to investigate eight hepatitis C cases linked to his Shadow Lane and Burnham Avenue clinics. [Link]

If he's guilty, he deserves to be punished severely. But as unfortunate as Desai's alleged malpractice is, so is the hatchet job done by Paul Harasim of the Las Vegas Review-Journal on Desai's hometown of Ahmedabad, with help from an anonymous Indian businessman who grew up in Africa.

"You do have to remember that he came from a city in India, Ahmedabad, that is hell on earth," recalled a California real estate investor who said he attended college and medical school there at the same time as Desai. "Students studied hard to get the hell out of there so they could leave and make their fortune."

The businessman, an Indian who grew up in Africa, said when he and Desai attended Gujarat University in the late 1960s and early 1970s, there was no escaping the unsanitary conditions and corruption.

"You squatted over a hole in the ground when you had to go. There was no tissue so you used a wet hand to clean yourself," he said. "It was disgusting. In a 115-degree heat, you couldn't get away from the smell of human waste."

Bribery was a way of life.

"Just to get on the bus you had to bribe the conductor with extra rupees," he said. "There were always so many people waiting. It got so I'd climb in a window in the back to get on. ... You had to pay someone to get a job." ...

Nearly a quarter of the population, according to United Nations reports, lived in slums so filthy that people washed in streams where excrement and garbage were visible. There was no air-conditioning. Meanwhile, heavy industries and thousands of kerosene-fueled rickshaws belched black smoke into the air, the classmate said.

And without an infrastructure in place to deal with heavy rains, monsoons regularly left water four feet deep in much of the city.

"You had to wade through the water to get where you were going," the former classmate said. "You'd go to school with wet clothes. There would be snakes all over the place. The frogs would croak so loud you had a hard time studying." ...

Desai was able to live at home rather than in college dorms, his former classmate said. He stressed that even if Desai lived in an area where sanitary conditions were the norm rather than the exception, Desai wouldn't have been able to escape the primitive side of Ahmedabad.

"Bugs literally became part of your meals," he said. "Cockroaches and flies were baked into your food. There was no way to avoid it. The government did nothing to kill them." [Link]

Oh my goodness ... using a wet hand ... bribing the bus conductor ... snakes all over the place ... cockroaches and flies baked into your food.

If you're a doctor who grew up in Ahmedabad, please turn in your medical license immediately. How can you even think of being a good doctor when you used a wet hand?

Jhumpa Lahiri kicks some butt (updated)

Domination is common in sports, such as when Rafael Nadal trounced Roger Federer 6-1 6-3 6-0 in the French Open final or India beat Bermuda by 257 runs in last year's cricket World Cup. But it doesn't happen in literary contests, at least not until Jhumpa Lahiri shows up. Just picture her wearing boxing gloves and knocking out other authors in the first round. That's essentially what she did to win the Frank O' Connor Short Story Award for her collection of short stories “Unaccustomed Earth." The judges didn't even bother composing a shortlist for the award.

The judges - Granta fiction editor Rosalind Porter, Cork City chief librarian Liam Ronayne and Irish Times Literary correspondent Eileen Battersby - were immediately and unanimously convinced the book should win.

"With a unanimous winner at this early stage we decided it would be a sham to compose a shortlist and put five other writers through unnecessary stress and suspense," explained the award's director, Pat Cotter. "Not only were the jury unanimous in their choice of Lahiri's Unaccustomed Earth as the winner, they were unanimous in their belief that so outstanding was Lahiri's achievement in this book that no other title was a serious contender." [Link]

I wonder how the other authors feel. Lahiri literally kicked their butts. I mean, literarily.

UPDATE: My wife says they were cheated out of a potential shortlisting. And I tend to agree. Imagine if the NFL had canceled the playoffs last year and awarded the Super Bowl to the New England Patriots, saying they were far and away the best team in America, having finished the regular season 16-0. If an underdog like the New York Giants can pull off an epic upset in the Super Bowl, is it so far-fetched to believe that Tim Jones, author of Transported, might shock Lahiri in the playoffs with a last-second Hail Mary pass?

Column: Appreciate Mandela while you can

Nelson Mandela will turn 90 soon and, much to my dismay, his birthday has not been declared an international holiday. I have no choice but to declare it a personal holiday and spend it thinking about Mandela and the great example of his life, while sipping beer on the couch. Let the wife take out the trash.

Wife: "What are you drinking at this time of the day?"

Me: "It's not what I'm drinking that's important. It's what I'm thinking."

Wife: "I know what you're thinking -- that you need to do more drinking."

Me: "No, I'm thinking about Nelson Mandela. Did you know that he spent 27 years in prison, then came out and reconciled with his oppressors? That means that there's still hope for Alec Baldwin and Kim Basinger."

Wife: "Exactly how much have you had to drink?"

Actually, the only beer I drink is ginger beer. But I do occasionally drink wine and I'm hoping to raise a toast to the great man. Of course, one toast may not be enough. I'll probably have to toast him all day.

Me (raising glass): "To Mandela. May he live until he's 125."

Wife: "Isn't that your 125th toast today?"

Me: "Yeah, but don't worry: I'm going to take a break for breakfast. I'm starving."

Wife: "What are you going to have?"

Me: "Toast, of course. So I can raise it in Mandela's honor."