Archives for November 2016

Found a word I’ve been looking for-kakistocracy


with Anu Garg

Feeling at a loss for words? Don’t be! We dive into the language to bring you the finest, freshest words, just when you need them. Use them and share with friends and family.

Never stop speaking. And speak loudly. That’s what language is for!

This week’s selection has words that will make you say: I didn’t know there was a word for it.


(kak-i-STOK-ruh-see, kah-ki-)


noun: Government by the least qualified or worst persons.


From Greek kakistos (worst), superlative of kakos (bad) + -cracy (rule). Ultimately from the Indo-European root kakka-/kaka- (to defecate), which also gave us poppycock, cacophony, cacology, and cacography. Earliest documented use: 1829.


“We must weigh our votes carefully. Else we are in danger of turning America’s time-tested democracy into a kakistocracy.”
Dan Warner; The Best Man for the Job Is Not as Easy as it Sounds; The News Press (Fort Myers, Florida); Jan 17, 2016.



No drug, not even alcohol, causes the fundamental ills of society. If we’re looking for the source of our troubles, we shouldn’t test people for drugs, we should test them for stupidity, ignorance, greed, and love of power. -P.J. O’Rourke, writer (b. 14 Nov 1947)

Prescott Valley PWP Book Sale

Joe DiBuduo will be selling his books today at P.V. Library from 10 to 2 p.m.

Veteran’s Day

On this date in 1921, President Warren G. Harding dedicated the Tomb of the Unknowns in Arlington National Cemetery. On Memorial Day, four unknown soldiers who had died in the First World War had been exhumed from four American cemeteries in France. The caskets were laid out in a city hall building in Châlons-sur-Marne. U.S. Army Sergeant Edward F. Younger, a highly decorated World War I veteran, placed a spray of white roses on the third casket from the left, thereby selecting that man to represent all of the unknown American soldiers killed in the war. The Unknown Soldier was brought to Washington, D.C., where he lay in state in the Capitol Rotunda until he was laid to rest with highest honors on Armistice Day. His casket rests on a two-inch layer of French soil. George Rothwell Brown wrote in the Washington Post: “No man had ever given more. … Youth, fortune, love and fame, his very identity flung away for country’s sake at the cannon’s mouth, and in exchange an immeasurable immortality, the laurels of the victor, the veneration of the world, the homage of civilization.” And President Harding said, at the dedication: “He might have come from any one of millions of American homes … hundreds of mothers are wondering today, finding a touch of solace in the possibility that the nation bows in grief over the body of one she bore.”


Reposted from W.A.

Sooo, maybe we’ll have something similar happen here when illegal immigrants are rounded up??????


Today is the anniversary of Kristallnacht, the Night of Broken Glass (1938).

Hitler and Joseph Goebbels used the assassination of a German diplomat by a Polish Jew as an excuse to organize a “spontaneous” riot. Goebbels told an assembly of National Socialists that “the Führer has decided that […] demonstrations should not be prepared or organized by the Party, but insofar as they erupt spontaneously, they are not to be hampered.” Throughout Germany and parts of Austria and Czechoslovakia, Nazi Stormtroopers and Hitler Youth put thousands of synagogues, homes, businesses, and schools to the torch – and blamed the Jews for the damage they caused. They smashed windows, looted shops, dragged Jews from their homes, and desecrated graves. The government gave instructions to firefighters not to intervene, and told local police to round up as many young Jewish men as their jails could hold. It was the first mass incarceration of Jews by the Nazi government, and so many people consider Kristallnacht to be the beginning of the Holocaust.


National broadcasts of The Writer’s Almanac are supported by The Poetry Foundation.


A Little Verse by Joe!

This little verse is jealous of the poetry tucked away until today,


and the words I use in it aren’t pretty and don’t matter to me.


If it knew I’m not the one who makes the choice of all the words under the sun,


and my fingers dance to ideas flowing through my veins and into my brain


that keeps the beat and makes my fingers tap computer keys and though


I can’t dance, my hands must do what my brain commands.


I’ll never run out of words, so even if this poetic piece hates me for what I write


I must validate that it’s a verse and not just a bunch of words. I have no choice


but to do what I’m told by that creator who uses me to create his designs.


I have feelings I never felt, and words that will never come out.


If only I could write lyrics that would shine my poems like yesterday’s sun and bring


tears to any eyes that saw my outstanding words I’d use in tomorrow’s poem to prove to


this little verse that it matters to me, and I love it as much as any other I’ve written over


the years. All I can say is, I’m happy to be the writer, not one of those out there who have


to pay to listen to what I say.

Who said white men can’t jump?

Writer’s, there is lots of interesting information on pinterest.