I’m leafing though the Saturday NYT Book Review. I start reading a review of a book about taxidermy. Two paragraphs in, my mouth falls open and my eyebrows briefly brush the ceiling:
The reviewer (one Max Watman) doesn’t give any indication he’s familiar with the more widespread definition of “jizz”. I can only hope he and the taxidermists remain in blissful ignorance.
Hardly likely, at this point. If they haven’t each gotten ten text messages from their buddies by now, I’m a trout.
Nah. It’s a very widespread and well-known term in birding. It’s been in use since the 1920s. I would say that most birders are familiar with the other usage (which is actually more usually jism rather than jizz) and it doesn’t particularly bother them. Probably about the same as people in the sausage trade feel about using the word wiener.
I think it’s a bit embarrassing that I know this, but here’s what Wookieepedia has to say about jizz.
I giggled at the Wookieepedia article but then I remembered that it’s entirely realistic. “Rock ‘n’ roll” means sex; to “juke” as in jukebox means, basically, to fuck; “funk” is the way someone smells during sex - at least this is what I’ve heard, and Wikipedia backs me up on at least 1/3.
I thought the birding term was GIS, meaning “general information and shape”.
Check the Wiki article I linked to. The WWII aviation term GISS for “General Impression of Size and Shape” (of an aircraft) is too late, since “jizz” was first recorded in 1920.
Yep, you’re right…I mis-remembered the acronym from my state park docent training (15 years ago).
Yeah, and when you’re out in the wild you attract birds by pishing.
You know…“pish, pish, pish!”
With any luck you could see some boobies.
Or tits.
Or peckerheads.
I’m reminded (after a quick Google for details) of a story told by Carl Sagan about a committee he was on which was charged by NASA with the responsibility of naming the surface features of the terrestrial planets (those with solid, rocky crusts) and the icy moons of the gaseous giant planets. This was the era of the Viking and Pioneer probes, so a systematic method for naming craters, canyons, mountains and plains was needed. In the past, the honor of naming rested squarely with the astronomer looking thru their telescope at the given planet. However, this ad hoc system was unsuitable, given that these robotic probes would be taking thousands of photos of many planets and moons and would therefore discover many, many new features. Hence the committee.
Anyway, during one meeting a certain person (not named by Sagan in his books) put forward an idea for naming the highest mountain on a given planet or its moon, using the Latin language. Therefore the highest mountain on Mercury would be called Mons Mercuris, the highest on Mars would be Mons Martus, the highest on any moon of Jupiter would be Mons Jovis and so on: Mons Saturnus, Mons Uranius, Mons Neptunis, Mons Plutonis, Mons Veneris…
At this point there was a lot of giggling amongst the rest of the committee and Sagan diplomatically pointed out that that particular name was already taken by a different area of human activity. Someone gave the original speaker a quick whispered explanation, following which he blushed, shrugged and commented that he “hadn’t heard”.
You really need to read Sherlock Holmes.
He and Watson ejaculate. ALOT. At each other.
Not just tits, but Great Tits.
Holy shit! Max Watman! Went to brain camp with him. (CTY) I didn’t know he was famous.
I should totally post that awesome picture of him and me…
Batting .333 makes you a god in the American/National League these days. In the world of linguistics–not so much. Juke=wrong. Funk=wrong.
Or maybe even blue tits, exercising!
It’s not even that he uses “jizz.” It’s HOW he uses it. The “essence of a bird is its jizz”? LMAO.
Birding (and taxidermy, probably, too) is not for the worldly. They call for hyperfocus and cloistered dedication.
If you even have friends that know racy cusswords and are not etymologists, you’re in the wrong pastime.
Or Oxpeckers.
