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Armpit art

SEVERAL readers have written to us adding their own examples of what Colum Clarke called ā€œapposite adjacentsā€ at the top of the pages of dictionaries (7 October). Among our favourites are two that Jonathan Ormond found in his Reader’s Digest Reverse Dictionary (1989 edition). ā€œArmpit Artā€, he suggests, sounds like a plausible future winner of the Turner Prize or some other award for contemporary art, while his favourite pairing is ā€œsomething I would never want to hear in any religious serviceā€: a ā€œKazoo Kyrie Eleisonā€.

Other readers have expanded the field to include encyclopedias. Glyn Williams remembers the spine of volume IV of an encyclopedia he once saw – he thinks it might have been Arthur Mee’s Children’s Encyclopedia – which announced that it was ā€œFun to Hugā€. And John Shortridge recalls a volume of the first edition of The Australian Encyclopedia that was labelled ā€œMarsupials to Parliamentā€, which seems to us a worthy aim.

Baiting the 419 scam

AN EMAIL we recently received begins: ā€œHaving consulted with my colleagues and based on the information gathered from the Nigerian Chambers Of Commerce And Industry, I have the privilege to offer you this great new book, Scamorama. I request your assistance to make this book known to the public. If you can do this, I will transfer the sum of $47,500,000.00 (forty-seven million, five hundred thousand United States dollars) into your accountsā€¦ā€

It is, of course, a joke – but the book really exists. It is produced by Eve Edelson, the owner of the website , and the email is in fact a press release. It continues: ā€œEveryone has no doubt received these so-called ā€˜419’ emails in their inbox. Most of us immediately delete or trash them. However, groups of people around the world have taken it a step further and turned the tables on the scammers, leading them on with their own nonsense, strictly to waste the scammers’ time – a practice known as scambaiting.ā€

Scamorama, the press release tells us, provides ā€œserious informationā€ about the 419 scam as well as documenting the ā€œweird form of cultural exchangeā€ between the fraudsters and the people who bait them. To find out more go to Edelson’s website or email books

Harold be thy name

THE exploration of the language error known as an ā€œeggcornā€ – in which a word is confused with another one that sounds similar but still makes sense at some level (26 August, p 52) – reminded Trevor Magnusson of a colleague a few years back. An earnest Christian, he had obviously been exposed to various bromides such as ā€œIn times of trial, we must rest on the pillars of our faithā€ and ā€œEven Christ himself when facing crucifixion could not see beyond the portals of the tombā€.

When he related these gems to others, Magnusson tells us, what came out were two entirely logical eggcorns: ā€œIn times of trial, we must rest on the pillows of our faithā€ and ā€œEven Christ himself when facing crucifixion could not see beyond the portholes of the tombā€.

ā€œFrom the press office of The Lancet: ā€œPrime Minister of Norway to give lecture on child survival in London next week.ā€ We hadn’t realised child mortality in London was particularly high. Or that Norway caredā€

This in turn reminded Feedback of a relative in her fifties who, like a recent letter-writer to The Guardian newspaper in London, remembers in all innocence mistaking the words ā€œOur father, which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name,ā€ that begin the classic version of the Lord’s Prayer, as ā€œOur father, a chart in heaven, Harold be thy name.ā€

The same weight as…er…

THERE’S something about unusual units of measurements that brings out the fussy precision in people. Take the piece we ran on 29 April exposing the amount of dog faeces deposited in the New Forest in the UK each year – ā€œthe same weight as 240 double-decker busesā€. This comparison does at least give a fairly good impression of the quantities involved, but unfortunately the same cannot be said about the quote in The Hastings Observer that Jackie Field has forwarded to us. It comes from the manager of a crane that caused alarm among council safety officials when it was placed on the seaside resort’s pier overnight in preparation for repair work the following day: ā€œā€˜The crane weighs almost 4 tonnes,’ he said. ā€˜The same weight as lots of people.'ā€

Fist for emergencies

FINALLY, the emergency instructions for passengers on First Great Western trains, which serve the south and west of England, seem unusually solicitous. Ian Haggo spotted this in one of their carriages: ā€œStrike cover of emergency release with fist (located above external door)ā€. Haggo is impressed that a fist is provided in case you forget to bring your own with you.