The Trumpocene era begins. As the unnatural orange rays of a new dawn start to glow on the horizon, it has given us several gifts already. First, the word manfant, a combination of “man” and “infant”, deployed by many people to describe a president elect who is a combination of man (chronologically) and infant (Twitter timeline). Second, a variety of puns – in the wake of certain allegations – that, while they do not quite hit the joyous heights of Cameron and the pig’s head (these are, all told, darker days), have nevertheless been much better than facing reality. I have enjoyed all of the “Urine trouble!” ilk, of course, but a special shout out must go to all those who tweeted the picture of him in the golden elevator with Nigel Farage with some variant on “…and he’s also had a shit in a lift”. Overall winner, however, must be @Nick_Pettigrew’s comment that Trump’s position now looks “totally un-Tena-ble”. I shall carry this with me in the days, weeks, months and years to come.
Or maybe I should just hire a funsultant. Submitted by AustinAllegro, it refers to someone who is hired by a company to make its workforce happier. I’m self-employed, but this is surely in 2017 a tax-deductible necessity. I shall see if my accountant – who alas is not a funcountant – agrees. We live in catatragic (thank you and welcome, new contributor Pagefold) times.
Let’s change the subject entirely. Pagefold has also given us factfix – the manipulation of information to obtain a preferred result. Imagine.
Okay, let’s try and change the subject properly. How about with queckle? According to contributor DComins, it means an area bare of bark on a tree trunk. I haven’t been able to check on this – Google was not much help and all my books are packed into boxes because I am about to move house (my need for a funsultant increases every day) – but it has the ring of both regional and naturalist authenticity about it and we live in a post-fact age so I am going to bang my gavel and declare it true. At least until I unpack my books.
Should you find yourself, like me, too exhausted by events both recent and ongoing to have much mental bandwidth to spare for conversation, work or anything other than rocking back and forth in a corner scratching at your flesh and crying let me, courtesy of contributor Pivot, at least help you with the first by offering you jawn. It’s used primarily in Philadelphia and it means – well, anything, really. Or just “thing”. “Did you see that jawn on telly last night?” “Have you seen the jawn on that?” Or, I suppose, in extremis – “Did you see the jawn on that jawn last jawn?”
Finally, MelonyLiar has introduced me to an entirely new thing – vegducken. A vegetable stuffed inside a vegetable stuffed inside a…no, my hopes rose too but apparently the duck is a red herring. No, not even that. It’s a another vegetable. A vegducken is usually a courgette inside an aubergine inside a squash. Normally, I would be appalled but I am currently permanently maxed out by other things.
Enjoy your turduckens, my friends. Who knows… what the orange-(stubby) fingered dawn may bring?
By Lucy Mangan
