head, it seems appropriate to start this week with an inversion typo in the word "Economic." The truncated "Ecomon*" is found on the B list of Typographical Errors in Library Databases, now in its new home at www.terryballard.org/typos/typoscomplete.html
Right before leaving the White House, Dubya managed to pull off one last-gasp galling gallophobic maneuver. He effectively banned the importation of Roquefort cheese by placing a punishingly high tariff on it in order to get back at the French for spurning our own specialty, hormone-riddled beef. There were 27 cases of Tarrif* exported to OhioLINK, which makes it a "high probability" typo on the Ballard list. Fortunately, Mr. Obama likes fromage and the French and, unlike Bush, isn't cheesed off at them for being sharper and more sophisticated than we are and not supporting the war in Iraq. The current president even had a domestic cheese named after him back in 2007: the Barick Obama, made by Lazy Lady Farms in Westfield, Vermont.
Fred Phelps is an "independent" Baptist preacher from Topeka, Kansas, best known for his message of abomination and homophobia: God Hates Fags. He and his tight-knit, if loosely wrapped, clan have "protested" at the funerals of people with AIDS, victims of anti-gay violence such as Matthew Shepard, and soldiers who served in Iraq. (He has described such military rites as "pagan orgies of idolatrous blasphemy.") Phelps denounces Jews, Irish Catholics, Swedes, and pretty much everyone else who doesn't agree with him—which, apart from his family (the ones who aren't accusing him of running a child-abusing cult, anyway), includes pretty much everybody. He and his followers also sing the praises of earthquakes and other natural disasters, tragedies, and accidents, so long as they strike in secular-humanist, tolerant places like Canada and the United States. The Phelps circus is coming to town tomorrow, whereupon it'll be outnumbered by masses of peaceful counter-protestors, both religious and non-religious, or quietly ignored altogether. There are about a dozen occurrences of Bapist* masquerading as Baptist* found in OhioLINK today.
At last count, there were 12 hits in OhioLINK on the typo Linclon and six on Lincon: four for the president, one a misspelling of LINCOM, and one a proper name I'm honestly not sure about. "Honest Abe" was no con man, but he was a practical joker. There are stories galore about Abraham Lincoln as a child and young man, some very moving and others quite funny. In one, he walks three miles to return a penny—or, according to one source, six pennies. (Question: Who was on the penny before Lincoln?) In another one, he holds a group of barefoot boys upside-down so they can stamp their muddy footprints on his stepmother's ceiling. (She had previously remarked that Abe, at 6' 4", was so tall she feared he'd leave his own up there someday.) Lincoln—who gave what many consider his finest speech, the Second Inaugural Address, on March 4, 1865—was a great wit whose quips and barbs have been collected by historians. "If I were two-faced," he pointed out once, "would I be wearing this one?" And somewhat suggestively: "No matter how much cats fight, there always seem to be plenty of kittens."
Have you ever seen one of these adorable aberrations pop up in your ice cube tray? They're known as "ice spikes" or "ice-cube stalagmites," although the latter moniker is somewhat misleading since they aren't made by water dripping from above, but rather take place when there is a small crack or hole in the outer layer of ice forming on the cube. As the water expands, it's forced upward through a gradually elongated tube-like structure. Apparently, this is more likely to occur if your freezer is especially cold and if the water has been distilled. I discovered 11 typos in OhioLINK on the search Crytal* and four on Chryst* + Crystal*. Anyway, do try this at home. Ice spikes are very cool.
Do opposites attract? Bradley Kincaid, an early American folksinger, songwriter, and radio personality, once recorded an early mash-up of "Liza Jane" and "Possum up a 'Simmon Tree." (The lyrics in these two songs show up in a variety of forms, in fact. It was a P2P-sharing paradise back then.) In most recorded versions, Liza Jane is firmly opposed to her suitor, and the possum is opposed by a "raccoon on the ground." Kincaid's rendition was easily arranged as the tunes had the same basic melody, but the results were lyrically arresting. "Liza up in the 'simmon tree / Possum on the ground / Possum said, 'You son-of-a-gun / Shake them 'simmons down.'" Perhaps the most wonderfully absurd of all the confounding wordplay abounding here is this description of the singer's beloved: "Her head is like a coffee pot / Her nose is like the spout / Her mouth is like an old fireplace / With the ashes all raked out." OhioLINK shakes down seven cases of Oppossum* and four of Opposum* (making this a low-hanging typo, but a juicy one). Besides the similar sound of the words themselves, it seems that possums and persimmons really do go together: the latter is a favored foodstuff of the former. I hope America's only marsupial knows enough to wait until the fruit is dead ripe, though, or it's gonna be one numb opossum!
