"...Ebert to Sheen Three.."

In the "match" between insipidness and inspiration in our culture, it often seems that the playing pieces of the former far out number the playing pieces of the latter.

For every Gabrielle Giffords there seems to be a cluster clique of Charlies and Lindsays.

Interesting thing about the eternal battle, though.

In the end, it always seems that those who nourish our souls prevail over those whose antics are, at the center, nothing more than psychojunkfood.

And, human compassion for their demonic struggles aside, Charlie and Lindsay and Kardashians of all races, creeds, colors and blood alcohol levels are only pawns on the board, necessary, I think, the give the game balance and perspective.

Roger Ebert and his wife, among many others, are the real kings and queens of this game.

http://news.blogs.cnn.com/2011/03/04/roger-ebert-closes-ted-conference-on-ugly-note/?hpt=T2

"...Sticks and Stones..."

Ann Coulter must have a savvy soul in her entourage.

I mention it because as I was reading of her latest venom spew, I was reminded of an
age old question.

What's in a name?

Shakespeare, most famously, posed the ponderance a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.

His point, though, was a tad askew from mine.

He was offering that you call the flower something different and the scent of same remains the same.

Personally, I've always been tempted to whip out the old hair splitter on that one, given what I've learned about the powerful images words can conjure up.

A rose by any other name?

Let's call it a baby barf sweat sock and see if you're still delighted to get/send a dozen from/to your sweetie on the applicable occasions.

Esthetics notwithstanding, naming things often requires not only some forethought but, occasionally, some afterthought, as well.

For example...

Long ago, in a past life adventure living in the real world, I worked for the company that was, and still is, synonymous with ink and ball points and flicking.

Fun fact to know and tell: The company was actually founded in France by the family Bich (pronounced, I can only assume, with a Parisian coated "beesh"). When the product found its way to America, some one wise beyond their thesaurus realized, up front, that the smart move was to drop the 'h" and market the product by the name we have all come to know through the years, the flawless reasoning being that some yutz was bound to mispronounce the name, either because of a lack of edumacation or sense of humor suspended somewhere between fourth and fifth grade.

Thanks to that foresight, we flick our Bics.

We don't write with a "Bitch" pen.

Likewise, some thirty plus years ago, a Japanese video game, featuring little creature chasing and eating other little creatures, originally named after the Japanese term for munching ("puck") was diverted, pre-American release by another savvy soul who realized chances were good that same group of arrested developments would very quickly put the finishing touches on the evolution of "Munch Man"...to "Puck Man" to....

Thanks to THAT foresight, we grew up playing "Pac Man"

Not "F--- Man"

What's in a name?

The same power you find in the words that make up that name.

Power that can be diverted, if necessary.

As Bic and Pac Man proved that one B or P word is as good as, or better than, another.

And as, apparently, did someone in Ann Coulter's brain trust prove about C words.