Mandatum novum do vobis ut diligatis invicem sicut dilexi vos
which translates to...
A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you
I came across serendipitously
Mandatum novum do vobis ut diligatis invicem sicut dilexi vos
A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you
One might be surprised to learn that rapt, a word used in describing states of deep delight or absorption, has a relative with an entirely different emotive force-rape. Now most often used to mean "to force someone to submit to sexual acts," rape once had a much broader application, as it meant "to seize, carry off." In fact, it was often used in positive and nonviolent contexts. From the Middle English period, we have examples of its being used to mean "to carry off to heaven from earth," as in "the visions of seynt poul wan [when] he was rapt in to paradys." As this quotation shows, rapt started out as the past participle of rape. As time went on, rapt became restricted to mental or emotional states, while rape developed a new past participle, raped, and became limited to criminal or violent acts. Source
In 1995 Joseph Bower and Clayton Christensen, two researchers of the Harvard Business School, invented a new term: “disruptive technology”. This is the innovation that fulfils the requirements of some, but not most, consumers better than the incumbent does. That gives it a toehold, which allows room for improvement and, eventually, dominance. The risk of incumbent firms is that of the proverbial boiling frog. They may not know when to switch from old to new until it is too late.
The example Dr Brower and Dr Christensen used was a nerdy one: computer hard-drives. But unbeknown to them a more familiar one was in the making. The first digital cameras were coming to sale. These were more expensive than film cameras and had a lower resolution. But they brought two advantages. A user could look at a picture immediately after he had taken it. And he could download it onto his computer and send it to his friends.
Fourteen years on, you would struggle to buy a new camera that uses film. Some of leading camera-makers, such as Panasonic, are firms that had little interest in photography when Dr Brower and Dr Christensen published. And en entire industry, the manufacturing and processing of film, is rapidly disappearing.
I suppose he seems fellatio as an expression of democracy. He once confined his conviction that ingesting young & vigorous semen counters the effect of aging. He was quite serious about it. I replied that it was probably the closest he'd ever get to transubstantiation. I'm not adverse to it myself but I usually like to maintain a proper posture when mingling with the masses. Mutual masturbation, I think is the tedious technical term. I hate this modern definitions. Makes everything sound coldly medical rather than deliriously sinful. There's an ancient word that far better describes my pleasure. Slicklegging
from Fula
This word originated in Cameroon
If your mojo is working, you lead a charmed life. That's because mojo, in its original sense, is a charm, kept in a cloth bag. Depending on which conjure doctor you go to, the charm can be roots, rats, snakes, lizards, pumpkin seeds, dirt, clay, or steel wool. Those were ingredients mentioned in North Carolina in 1962. Back in the late 1930s, in Memphis, Tennessee, to make a mojo one expert said you would sew a red flannel bag with these ingredients: High John de Conker (a plant known also as Solomon's seal), black lodestone, Adam and Eve root, and violet incense powders. A 1946 account from New Orleans said that the mojo was "the leg bone of a black cat that's been killed in a graveyard at midnight."
If your mojo is working, you have sex appeal. But if someone else touches or even sees your mojo, it can lose its power. That's the explanation of the lyrics in the 1928 blues song: "My rider's got a mojo and she won't let me see.... She's got to fool her daddy, she's got to keep that mojo hid; but papa's got something for to find that mojo with." Written evidence for the word goes back to 1926 in the song title, "My Daddy's Got the Mojo, But I Got The Say-So." Nowadays the word is widely used, often with no reference to a magical cloth bag but simply meaning power, influence, or advantage.
The word is African American. Its origin is uncertain, but it seems probable that mojo ultimately came from Africa. If it did, a good candidate for the source is moco'o, meaning a conjure doctor or person who works magic. That word is from the Fula or Fulfulde language, a member of the Fulani branch of the Niger-Congo language family. Fula is spoken as a native language by two-thirds of a million people in Cameroon, and by four million more in Cameroon as a second language. One other English word that may possibly come from Fula (if not from Mandingo) is yam (1657).
Etymology 1: blend of scrumptious and yummy
Adjective scrummy (comparative scrummier, superlative scrummiest): Childish term for delicious
Etymology 2: blend of school-run and mummy
Noun scrummy (plural scrummies): (UK, pejorative) (slang) a woman who causes traffic congestion by driving her offspring to and from school.
"Later!" The word, the voice, the attitude.
I'd never heard anyone use "later" to say goodbye before. It sounded harsh, curt, and dismissive, spoken with the veiled indifference of people who may not care to see or hear from you again.
It is the first thing I remember about him, and I can hear it still today. Later!
I shut my eyes, say the word, and I'm back in Italy, so many years ago, walking down the tree-lined driveway, watching him step out of the cab, billowy blue shirt, wide-open collar, sunglasses, straw hat, skin everywhere. suddenly he's shaking my hand, handing me his backpack, removing his suitcase from the trunk of the cab, asking if my father is home.
This summer's houseguest. Another bore.
Then, almost without thinking, and with his back already turned to the car, he waves the back of his free hand and utters a careless Later! to another passenger in the car who probably split the fare from the station. No name added, no jest to smooth out the ruffled leave-taking, nothing. His one-word send-off: brisk, bold, and blunted — take your pick, he couldn't be bothered which.
You watch, I thought, this is how he'll say goodbye to us when time comes. With a gruff, slapdash Later!
Meanwhile, we'd have to put up with him for six long weeks.
I was thoroughly intimidated. The unapproachable sort.
I could grow to like him, though. From rounded chin to rounded heel. Then within days, I would learn to hate him.
This, the very person whose photo on the application form months earlier had leapt out with promises of instant affinities.