365 Ways With Words

Arse/Ass

Oscar Wilde, that fount of profound witticisms and of the scathing rebuke, held that the British have really everything in common with America nowadays, except, of course, language. His acerbic commentary on linguistic differences was correct, but, perhaps, one should not delve into such territory for fear of argument escalating to nonsensical spelling and grammatical feuds – a narrow path beside a precipice more sheer than any paltry fiscal cliff.

I am not sure exactly what Wilde would have made of the word 'arse', but I think it is fair to say he would have had a good opinion of its use, one way or another. Having just spent the morning in English conversation lessons discussing the terms 'arse' and 'ass' (don't ask why – things just went that way), I think it only fair to share the fruits of such probing.

'Arse': a vulgar English term for bottom, rear, buttocks, rump, etc. Actually, this is is not merely English, but also a widely-used British and Irish term heard anywhere across the land from John o'Groats to Lands Derrière. It extends even further to Australia, New Zealand and South Africa and is therefore, to borrow a French term, un grand universaliser. British people from all walks of life know how to identify their arses from their elbows, feel unhappy about living in the arse end of the country like _______ (insert name of town), and know the horror of waking up next to someone with a face like a slapped one. 'Arse', in this context, is a fairly straightforward word for all things bum-like. It is not the same as 'arsehole', which is fairly well understood to be the fundament within which one's opinions should be speedily inserted should they prove to be contrary to expected opinion. And actually doing such a thing, quite literally, at a christening party, say, or in the presence of visiting royal dignitary, would magically transform the individual into the very object being described.

But the British, arguably the greatest inventors of the world, turned their linguistic acuity towards the simple arse and decided it should also have another more pejorative use – that of an insult: "You, Lady Beaufort, are a complete arse!" It describes ill-advised actions whereby one arses around, or the act of obduracy or sassiness when one is arsey, is an expression of indolence when one simply cannot be arsed to perform a menial task and may simply be used for honest cussing pleasure – Arse! For some reason it is also often been confused with Arsenal Football Club. To be referred to as a complete arse means that one has become a foolish, bumbling, fumbling fool, the kind that would confuse the word 'arse' with 'ass'. And so on to the next word...

'Ass': a common-or-garden reference to a jackass, donkey or domesticated member of the Equidae family. An ejaculate standard across the pond, ass is a allusion to perceived stubborn stupidity on the part of the recipient of such restrained terminology. Asses are also associated with the Democrat Party, an insulting reference from the times of Andrew Jackson.

'Ass' also means 'arse', in that it refers to the posterior. The genius of it: if one so desires one can admire an ass, shake an ass and even hit on an ass without involving the SPCA or the American Donkey and Mule Sanctuary. But Americans have extended the use to include... well... pretty much all of a person. So, should the need arise, asses can be moved, whipped and even broken, all without the removal of trousers.

 

To conclude, those of the Western Hemispheric regions might not exactly understand the nuanced arse in quite the same way as British appreciate arseness and all its assets, but at least they don't have Father Jack.

 

Living With Imaginary People

This post is about imaginary people – what they are, what they aren't and how imaginary people can help you.

First, what they are. Imaginary people are figments of the imagination. I live with imaginary people. In fact I work with imaginary people. I meet them every day, talk to them and listen to the conversations they have with other imaginary people. They have yet to talk back to me, and have not done so to anyone else I know for that matter, but that's OK: I think I'd be very worried if that actually happened.

My job, if that's what I should call it, involves the creation of people, complete with histories, mannerisms, motives, fears and delights. In fact, the name of the game is to make these people so convincing, so completely believable, that their existence does not come into question. Only then do the imaginary people really come to life.

So, for instance, I have made a relatively new acquaintance, Harvey Norman. He lives in Brisbane Australia, drives an ambulance for a living, likes to go bike riding and last saw his father the morning after he beat up his mum. He doesn't know it yet, but he's going to meet his future wife today on a beach. She will have a lot to say to him, once she works out he's not a total jerk. Not sure if he's going to be a friend yet.

As then there's the local Olomouc police Inspector who will investigate the brutal murder of two students on Franklinova. He must also work with a pretty, young graduate who has just become a deputy inspector, is half his age and has ideas of her own. Their chemistry may bring them together, but may also push them apart.

Other imaginary people may have lived thousands of years ago, watched sunrises over the African savanna before people lived in houses, or may not yet have been born because their cocoon is in stasis on their starship travelling towards Alpha Centauri at close to the speed of light.

Now, this might sound all fine and dandy to you ordinary folk that work for a living, but there is a problem: imaginary people don't go away. In fact, they are always there — when you wake up and go to bed, when you eat or go to the toilet, when you go shopping or have a drink at the pub. They sometimes appear when people are talking to you, or when having a drink with friends. They put in an awkward appearance at the most tender of moments and enjoy showing up for a laugh when life is intolerable. After a while you just can't stop them from turning up just about everywhere!

If you think that all this is reminiscent of a psychosis like schizophrenia or a disease like dementia, well then you're nearly right. Let me remind you that in order for imaginary people to be real they have to be believable, not just by other people but especially by the person who does the imagining. After all, Luke Skywalker and Harry Potter 'did not exist' until George Lucas and J.K. Rowling brought them to life. Their birth was essential – the creator had to make them walk, talk, have a reason to get up in the morning as well as save the universe and didn't stop until their imaginariness became a reality.  

Imaginary people should be lifelike and interesting, but they do not have to be your friends – in fact, you can do terrible things to them. There is a perverse pleasure in plotting someone's death or their descent into depression.

But there's a problem with imaginary people. Sometimes they are too normal. Real life is actually a bit weird, and sometimes completely unbelievable. Thus, and rather unfortunately, George Bush wasn't an imaginary person. He probably wouldn't have fulfilled even a single category on the 'believability criteria', even less so if you were to add all sorts of impossible details — for instance, that he couldn't spell but that he was elected American president – twice!!

The second point is what they are not: they aren't ghosts, spirits, aliens, spooks or things that go bump in the night. These may, or may not, be imaginary, but they have not been deliberately created by me. I have seen ghosts and strange things, but I haven't had any of them talk to me – at least not directly. If they did I think I might be a little scared. And if I wasn't scared then perhaps I ought to go to a local mental hospital.

They are also not the sort of imaginary friends that a child may have in his or her private imaginary world. These friends may be there to help the child cope with difficulties or loneliness and the child usually leaves them behind as they grow up.

The third point is how imaginary people can help you. If you have an imaginary character who is a little underemployed, then perhaps you can get him to do something for you. For example, use him to go through issues that you are facing now. Rehearse how the imaginary person would cope in that job interview you did badly at? How would he organise a holiday? How would he deal with your boss or lecturer or landlord? This has its risks – depending on who they are, they might resolve every problem with a punch on the nose, or by wetting their pants. On the other hand, they might resolve your problems through charm, excellent logic and satisfying responses to questions.

There you have it: imaginary people are completely believable living people, that are not ghosts, and who may be able to do some good in your life and help resolve issues. So, from all of us, thank you.