I’m bad. Or maybe, some people think I’m bad (but I don’t, just because) I prefer to watch Koreanovelas and read the news through FB posts, rather than in traditional channels. Once I think a sister gave me a book to read. Like I’m a little child who has to be encouraged to read. But see, I have my reasons.
The newspaper – when I get hold of one, I buy only on Saturdays and Sundays – you should be able to glean why – I do not read the first section at all. As in really, I don’t. Back when I was younger, I’d read the opinion columns but now, no more. If it’s any good anyway, someone is bound to share it in FB. Lazy? Maybe. But I also want to keep my sanity. All the bad news – reading them – is/can be depressing. And I don’t want that. So why buy news papers even?
For the features in the next sections. I read Barbara Gonzalez, for one. Gilda Cordero-Fernando for another. And sometimes, some young authors though not the son of the senator. Maybe because I don’t like the mom? though when she wasn’t yet in politics, I used to watch her weekly show. So I buy newspapers on weekends because on these days, there are a lot of feature articles.
Magazines – I like Starweek’s Lydia Castillo. When I open the magazine, I go to her page. Sometimes her column is absent, in which case I proceed to the back page – spot the changes. Honestly, I do. Sometimes, I persevere and find all ten. But more often than not, I don’t.
Inquirer’s occasional magazine – I read Margaux Salcedo’s page. If she has none, I look at the other pages but guess what? If it’s an article on what’s on the cover, it might have been commissioned by the subject. At least that’s how it was in the past.
Yes magazine – I usually read the captions of pictures if the person featured isn’t that interesting. Pictures tell so much more.
Time magazine. My first stop? 10 Questions. The latest with Google on the cover is an interview with Richard Dawkins. The intro reads: “Author and evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins on new words, his education and, of course, God”
I’d like to copy one question and his answer:
Q: You brought the word meme into popular use, and now you’re trying to introduce dundridge. How would we use it in a sentence?
A: It comes from a [character in a ] novel by Tom Sharpe. A dundridge is a minor official who has no flexibility, no discretion, no humanity. “The dundridges of the passport office are refusing to give me a new passport because I misspelled my name.”
Wow, that really got me. At 57 I’ve met my fair share of dundridges. Note that while WordPress did not underline the word “meme” after I typed it, it did dundridges, apparently a new word. So now, whenever some minor personnel is being difficult, let’s tell her/him “You’re such a dundridge. Could you call your supervisor?” And if the supervisor is similarly a dundridge, go higher until you reach the owner who should not fall under the classification of dundridge, he/she not being a minor official, but he/she might get things done. He/she should Okay, that’s a hyperbolical suggestion to go all the way up to the owner, but you get the drift.
End of story. Such a long intro for just one word – dundridge. I like the word just like I do schadenfreude and gallimaufry. Big words, yes, but words I can use experientially so likely, I won’t forget them. At least I hope I don’t.