<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639</id><updated>2011-07-29T02:31:04.357+01:00</updated><category term='Soviets'/><category term='I&apos;m a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here'/><category term='new model army'/><category term='innuendo'/><category term='corpse-disposal'/><category term='mamma'/><category term='wagggs'/><category term='nymph'/><category term='national pride'/><category term='Epaminondas'/><category term='Czech Republic'/><category term='American Beauty'/><category term='Robert Baden-Powell'/><category term='smuttification'/><category term='400bc'/><category term='scouts'/><category term='dogging'/><category term='army'/><category term='Big Brother'/><category term='Slovakia'/><category term='homosexuality'/><category term='hypersaxuality'/><category term='guides'/><category term='mother'/><category term='girl scouts'/><category term='gay lovers'/><category term='Scouting for Boys'/><category term='macedonian king'/><category term='infant'/><category term='pa'/><category term='Phillip'/><category term='undertakers'/><category term='acronyms'/><category term='Thebes'/><category term='girl guides'/><category term='sacred band'/><category term='About'/><category term='scouts association'/><category term='cromwell'/><category term='Oscars'/><category term='pleasure'/><category term='guilty'/><category term='overcoat'/><category term='scouting'/><category term='Centrifuge'/><category term='baby-talk'/><category term='nymphomania'/><category term='USSR'/><category term='religion'/><category term='wags'/><category term='grooming'/><category term='ma'/><category term='Czechoslovakia'/><category term='I&apos;m a Celebrity'/><title type='text'>Countnoun</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Tintin's younger brother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00774697710471439142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>27</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639.post-5601449223513324307</id><published>2008-11-27T20:51:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-11-27T20:54:26.775Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oscars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='guilty'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I&apos;m a Celebrity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Big Brother'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pleasure'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I&apos;m a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='American Beauty'/><title type='text'>Pleasure</title><content type='html'>The word ‘pleasure’ is imbued with a sense of guilt, or intrinsic naughtiness; hence the term ‘guilty pleasure’. Of course, if we are of a severely religious bent, all pleasures are guilty. But for the unwashed masses, there remains a dark underworld of illicit indulgences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Commonly cited examples are television programmes such as &lt;i&gt;Big Brother&lt;/i&gt; or &lt;I&gt;I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here&lt;/I&gt;. The low-grade (or lack of) intellectual stimulus is somehow viewed as injecting a necessary sense of guilt into the watching process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bigger brother of this snobbish approach is the world of film. The Oscars have a long history of marginalising comedy films, seemingly on the basis that because they don’t delve deep into the condition of mankind, they are somehow not worthy of an award. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indeed, in the awards’ 77 year history, just 11 comedies have won Best Picture. Many of these 11 are not balls-out comedies: the most recent incumbent is &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;American Beauty&lt;/span&gt;, an exploration of the human condition that happens to be very amusing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a case of the powers-that-be not judging a piece of art within its own aims, and heaving the shackle of intellectual depth over its shoulders instead. Comedy films, however great and however innately genius, remain the film industry’s guilty pleasure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h6&gt; &lt;span style="color:red;"&gt; posted by &lt;a href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2006/10/profile.html'&gt;Epaminondas&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/h6&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3425815083240504639-5601449223513324307?l=countnoun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/5601449223513324307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/5601449223513324307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2008/11/pleasure.html' title='Pleasure'/><author><name>Tintin's younger brother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00774697710471439142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639.post-5897462741612737455</id><published>2008-11-22T16:15:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-11-22T16:19:08.773Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cromwell'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new model army'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='homosexuality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thebes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sacred band'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='religion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='macedonian king'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='army'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Phillip'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='national pride'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gay lovers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='400bc'/><title type='text'>Army</title><content type='html'>What makes an army fight? National pride is a good reason to go out and kill people; countless millions of troops have proudly fought and died for their countries (or for their countries’ incumbent politicians).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Religion always used to be a great excuse for war-mongering – Cromwell’s Irish-bashing New Model Army slaughtered thousands in the name of their God, and did so very efficiently – and in the more recent past deities have become the fashionable reason for invading/terrorising/slaughtering infidels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But will armies fight for love? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Sacred Band of ancient Thebes certainly did. One of civilisation’s first ‘elite special forces’, the army consisted of 75 pairs of gay lovers. The theory was that because their fellow soldier was also a lover, they would all fight that little bit harder. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We must remember this was a time (about 400BC) when homosexuality did not possess camp connotations; rather it had the more manly associations of symposia (raucous drinking parties) and spitting into empty wine bowls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So did it work? Well… yes. In their inaugural scrap at the curiously named Tegyra, they defeated a Spartan skirmish force three times their size. Just a few years later, they played a decisive role in thrashing the same (highly rated) opponents in a much larger battle on the plains of Leuctra. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All good things must end, though, and they met their grisly demise fighting the long-speared forces of the Macedonian king, Phillip. Legend has it they went down fighting to the last man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h6&gt; &lt;span style="color:red;"&gt; posted by &lt;a href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2006/10/profile.html'&gt;Epaminondas&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/h6&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3425815083240504639-5897462741612737455?l=countnoun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/5897462741612737455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/5897462741612737455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2008/11/army.html' title='Army'/><author><name>Tintin's younger brother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00774697710471439142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639.post-4190875663451942525</id><published>2008-11-07T16:01:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-11-09T21:58:55.682Z</updated><title type='text'>Unpopularity</title><content type='html'>Sports pundits think Lewis Hamilton has a &lt;a href="http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/sport/formula_1/article5076423.ece"&gt;problem&lt;/a&gt;. Despite his talent and the glory that accompanies it he will never be popular – a bit like the maths whizz at school: good grades and few friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor Hamilton is a boring man from a boring sport. What he does for a living won’t win people over – there are even legions of sports fans who don’t enjoy Formula 1 – but he hasn’t got the charisma to win friends with his personality either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hamilton’s problem (not that he would call it that) is not one that rugby players are likely to encounter. It doesn’t matter how boring you are at home; if your job is to run headlong into other people and dig your studs into unfortunate opponents caught on the wrong side of the ruck, you’re an interesting character. The same is true of the most uncharismatic boxers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But witness also the most popular characters from other ‘dull’ sports. Snooker’s mercurial master, Ronnie O’Sullivan, is the foul-mouthed son of a convicted murderer (while similar to Hamilton, the dull and hugely unpopular Peter Ebdon lives in tax exile abroad). And cricket’s Freddie Flintoff doesn’t just play ‘boring’ Test cricket in the most rambunctious fashion, he drink-drives pedalos in his spare time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hamilton offers no such incongruity between his sport and his style. Just as Formula 1 seems one-dimensional to the uninitiated, Lewis Hamilton’s demeanour appears equally flat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Hamilton’s strange unpopularity doesn’t just stem from his uninteresting personality of course. Choosing to live far away from the country he races for doesn’t help matters. But more outrageous than that, Hamilton has used his ice-cool level-headedness to achieve that thing so hated by British sports fans: success.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;h6&gt;posted by &lt;a href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2007/10/subscribe.html'&gt;Diamond Supercool&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/h6&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3425815083240504639-4190875663451942525?l=countnoun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/4190875663451942525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/4190875663451942525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2008/11/unpopularity.html' title='Unpopularity'/><author><name>Diamond Supercool</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06688577968278598777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1ZBRyURHPC0/SJYf3xtjZlI/AAAAAAAAAAM/t6Cfqz6Wx88/S220/My+Epigram+Hands.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639.post-4403654492747038494</id><published>2008-11-04T21:50:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-11-04T21:52:36.986Z</updated><title type='text'>Aardvark</title><content type='html'>A word that demonstrates the power of the dictionary. Would many people know about aardvarks were it not for their fabled position at the front of the dictionary? When cognitively browsing a dictionary for the first time, most children will, after looking up the usual obscenities, have a peek at the first word in the language. And after various acronyms (Alcoholics Anonymous, Automobile Association, Anti-Aircraft) and the most boring word in the dictionary (‘a’), they get to this strange creature. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it is a strange creature. Roaming Africa by night, aardvarks survive almost solely on termites, by sucking the blighters up through a long, unsightly, trunk-esque snout. Effectively a cordless hoover with a heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rather uniquely, the word ‘aardvark’ is almost as strange as the termite-tyrant itself. The two a’s at the start of the word seem to resemble the creature’s snout, while the second syllable somehow sounds like an unkind imitation of the first. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Aardvarks are not alone; there are many words that niftily reflect meanings with looks. ‘Parallel’ makes its point by providing three linear l’s. The ‘z’ in ‘Zoom’ is not the ‘z’ of cartoon snoring; more a sharp bolt of linguistic lightning. And the fully accented ‘mêlée’ has all the cuts and bruises that such an encounter might provide. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There doesn’t seem to be a word that does for looks what onomatopoeia does for sounds, but aardvark is a great example of it, whatever it is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;h6&gt;posted by &lt;a href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2007/10/subscribe.html'&gt;Tintin’s Younger Brother&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/h6&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3425815083240504639-4403654492747038494?l=countnoun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/4403654492747038494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/4403654492747038494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2008/11/aardvark.html' title='Aardvark'/><author><name>Tintin's younger brother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00774697710471439142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639.post-1232525071053976648</id><published>2008-10-23T19:33:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T19:46:12.638+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Mare</title><content type='html'>A beautifully appropriate abbreviation for ‘nightmare situation’ when one considers the noun's more traditional meanings. A mare is, of course, a female horse – a creature renowned for its bad temper and unappealing visage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus it was the word people used to describe Henry VII’s fourth wife: Anne of Cleves – ‘the Flanders Mare.’ Anne was in fact so ugly that the moment horny Henry clapped eyes on her he declared bluntly, “I like her not”. Anne’s ugliness didn’t actually stop Henry marrying her, but it did stop him loving her and the marriage was swiftly annulled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jolly King Henry had a mare in more ways than one. His new missus was ugly as sin (a real mare) and thus the love affair was an unmitigated nightmare (a real mare). To inadvertently use the word for a female horse, with all her unattractive characteristics, when describing a nightmare situation full of similar disadvantages is four-letter poetry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;h6&gt;posted by &lt;a href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2007/10/subscribe.html'&gt;Diamond Supercool&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/h6&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3425815083240504639-1232525071053976648?l=countnoun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/1232525071053976648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/1232525071053976648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2008/10/mare.html' title='Mare'/><author><name>Diamond Supercool</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06688577968278598777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1ZBRyURHPC0/SJYf3xtjZlI/AAAAAAAAAAM/t6Cfqz6Wx88/S220/My+Epigram+Hands.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639.post-7807582643545157240</id><published>2008-10-23T00:16:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T19:25:19.497+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Coccyx</title><content type='html'>If you ever felt a crushing desire to beat someone in a game of hangman, ‘coccyx’ could be the word for you. You would surely render your opponent a floundering heap. For a start, ‘coccyx’ has a very low vowel count, which always helps. And three ‘c’s in a six letter word? That’s got to be some kind of record.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, you might be tempted to pursue a policy of hunting out vowel-shy words in readiness for your next hangman clash. But there’s more than one way to skin a cat, and there are several techniques to prepare yourself as a champion capable of using hangman to ridicule your foes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps the more scientific approach is to identify the least used and most used letters the find words with more of the former and less of the latter. As such, we should be avoiding the letters E, T, A, O and I – the top five most used. Equally we ought to try to include Z, Q, J, X and K; these are the letters that occur most rarely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By this reckoning, ‘coccyx’ finds itself about mid-table: C is 12th in the usage ranks and Y slips into 19th position. The X and O feature in the bottom and top five letters of the table respectively.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h6&gt; &lt;span style="color:red;"&gt; posted by &lt;a href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2006/10/profile.html'&gt;Epaminondas&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/h6&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3425815083240504639-7807582643545157240?l=countnoun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/7807582643545157240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/7807582643545157240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2008/10/coccyx.html' title='Coccyx'/><author><name>Tintin's younger brother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00774697710471439142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639.post-7045795627128408351</id><published>2008-10-03T23:17:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T16:17:26.478Z</updated><title type='text'>Eyrie</title><content type='html'>‘Eyrie’ is the last noun in the dictionary that starts with the letter ‘e’. Guess what the first noun in the dictionary that begins with the letter ‘e’ is…it's ‘eagle’. Now how neat is that? Eagles live in eyries! That’s right, folks! The whole realm of nouns beginning with ‘e’ is the eagle’s domain. It’s where he rules the roost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it’s not just eagles that live in eyries: high-flying human beings do too. The eyrie is as much a status symbol for the rich and powerful as it is for the winged predators. As per high-rise apartment blocks, the more powerful you are, the further up you live and so it comes as no surprise to learn that Adolf Hitler had two eyries at Berghof in the Bavarian Alps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At his eagle’s nests the most evil man on the planet surrounded himself with 2000 SS guards while he ordered blitzkriegs and demanded the murder of hundreds of thousands of innocents across Europe. "Those were the best times of my life," the Nazi later said. "My great plans were forged there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hitler’s chief eyrie was bombed in 1945 and later almost completely blown up by US troops. The smaller, higher (almost 2km above sea level) and more luxurious ‘Kehlsteinhaus’ escaped destruction and both are now open to visitors. “Enjoy its impressive views and its excellent cuisine,” reads the Kehlsteinhaus website. “The site combines a unique example of historic architecture and a stunning alpine setting.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't mention that 12 people died just constructing the brass-lined life that was built into the mountain itself, or that Hitler rarely visited because he suffered from vertigo and claustrophobia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;h6&gt;posted by &lt;a href="http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2007/10/subscribe.html"&gt;Diamond Supercool&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/h6&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3425815083240504639-7045795627128408351?l=countnoun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/feeds/7045795627128408351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3425815083240504639&amp;postID=7045795627128408351&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/7045795627128408351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/7045795627128408351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2008/10/eyrie.html' title='Eyrie'/><author><name>Diamond Supercool</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06688577968278598777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1ZBRyURHPC0/SJYf3xtjZlI/AAAAAAAAAAM/t6Cfqz6Wx88/S220/My+Epigram+Hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639.post-5103404979708315333</id><published>2008-10-03T21:10:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T19:27:38.800+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Iambus</title><content type='html'>Iambuses and pentameters go together like Romeo and Juliet, Antony and Cleopatra or Othello and Desmonda. Confused? So are generations of GCSE students told that Shakespeare managed to compose vast amounts of his opus in iambic pentameter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An iambus (or iamb) is the correct term for any two-syllable verbal construction in which the emphasis naturally falls on the second syllable. A pentameter is any line of verse comprised of five feet. In iambic pentameter then, each line is built from five feet and each of those feet is an iambus. The result? A typically bouncing rhythm. It’s difficult to get right, but nice when someone does, like: “aROUND the RUGGed rock THE rasCAL ran.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason it’s tricky to do in English is that few English words are natural iambuses. In the line above, only ‘around’ fits the bill. Other examples are usually words with a preface of some kind, like un-SURE, a-WAY or de-LAY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, Shakespeare’s most famous line of iambic pentameter isn’t actually made up of five iambuses: “To BE or NOT to BE, that IS the QUES-tion (…)” Oh. What happened there then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And even the American declaration of independence is at it: “We HOLD these TRUTHS to BE self EV-i-DENT,” it reads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iambuses combine elegantly because they work in such a non-aggressive way. If you really want to spit out your two syllables, you put all the emphasis on the first one (that’s a trochee don’tcha know). Consider insults: ‘DICKhead!’ simply wouldn’t work as ‘dickHEAD’, nor ‘MINGer!’ as ‘mingER’. The iambuses weren’t meant for that sort of mistreatment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;h6&gt;posted by &lt;a href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2007/10/subscribe.html'&gt;Diamond Supercool&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/h6&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3425815083240504639-5103404979708315333?l=countnoun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/feeds/5103404979708315333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3425815083240504639&amp;postID=5103404979708315333&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/5103404979708315333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/5103404979708315333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2008/10/iambus.html' title='Iambus'/><author><name>Diamond Supercool</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06688577968278598777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1ZBRyURHPC0/SJYf3xtjZlI/AAAAAAAAAAM/t6Cfqz6Wx88/S220/My+Epigram+Hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639.post-7175971874352183366</id><published>2008-10-03T19:41:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T19:27:56.739+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tab</title><content type='html'>Had I hit it, you would be reading each of these words approximately one inch further right. In fact, you may well have come to this page via a tab. But the word’s more interesting associations are with illegal drug taking and how bar-flies can ruin a public house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is such a pub in a town near Brighton on the south coast of England. The establishment  used to be a haven for hard drug users. The regulars weren’t necessarily nasty chaps, but they did find that management would turn a blind eye to groups of men visiting the toilet together, each with a belt strapped round his arm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday nights were even more fun. Tabs of ecstasy would be bandied around like vodka redbulls are today and it was several years before the police thought they should keep a tab on things and began to cripple the establishment with court cases and huge fines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Years later and the pub is still popular. It still attracts the same regulars too, only now they’ve moved from class A drugs to classy alcoholic drinks. Where once they injected smack between their toes, now they drink larger tops and vodka tonics. But they very rarely pay for their drinks. Instead, they ask for each glass to be put on their tab, promising that they’ll pay for it later. The tabs have built up over the years and some are worth hundreds and hundreds of pounds. The missing money is slowly strangling their favourite pub.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the regulars died recently. He never did pay his bar tab before the tabs of his past sadly put paid to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;h6&gt;posted by &lt;a href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2007/10/subscribe.html'&gt;Diamond Supercool&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/h6&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3425815083240504639-7175971874352183366?l=countnoun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/feeds/7175971874352183366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3425815083240504639&amp;postID=7175971874352183366&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/7175971874352183366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/7175971874352183366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2008/10/tab.html' title='Tab'/><author><name>Diamond Supercool</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06688577968278598777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1ZBRyURHPC0/SJYf3xtjZlI/AAAAAAAAAAM/t6Cfqz6Wx88/S220/My+Epigram+Hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639.post-6687940708872496852</id><published>2008-10-03T19:16:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T19:28:14.117+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Pyx</title><content type='html'>Bill Gates certainly isn’t an Anglican. Like plenty of the entries on Countnoun, his flagship programme, Microsoft Word, refuses to even acknowledge that ‘pyx’ is a word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But perhaps Microsoft Word’s aversion to the curt little three-letterer is rather more a protest against its distinctive lack of a vowel rather than its ecclesiastical associations where the pyx is the ill or infirm man’s route to salvation. As he sits comfortably in his pew on Sunday morning, the priest will approach him, pyx in hand, to administer the holy sacrament. It’s table service for the pious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weirdly a pyx’s other chief use is for storing specimen coins in a mint until they can be officially checked for weight and purity. Weirder still, Isaac Newton was once reduced to a rage when the ‘trial of the pyx’ mistakenly accused his royal mint of producing sub-standard coinage. It seemed unlikely. Under Newton, standards were higher than ever. He claimed he had achieved “much greater exactness than ever was known before” and once threw out half a ton of copper coins because they weren’t of high enough quality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Better still is the Royal Mint’s tacit admission that the word ‘pyx’ is completely unnecessary. Their website details how before the trial of the pyx, coins are “placed in the Pyx, or box.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;h6&gt;posted by &lt;a href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2007/10/subscribe.html'&gt;Diamond Supercool&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/h6&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3425815083240504639-6687940708872496852?l=countnoun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/feeds/6687940708872496852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3425815083240504639&amp;postID=6687940708872496852&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/6687940708872496852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/6687940708872496852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2008/10/pyx.html' title='Pyx'/><author><name>Diamond Supercool</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06688577968278598777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1ZBRyURHPC0/SJYf3xtjZlI/AAAAAAAAAAM/t6Cfqz6Wx88/S220/My+Epigram+Hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639.post-2670259931559402517</id><published>2008-10-03T18:13:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T19:26:54.514+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Centrifuge'/><title type='text'>Centrifuge</title><content type='html'>Remember naff Christmas crackers? Remember that toy that came out of them shaped like a miniature cot and containing two ball bearings? You had to work out how to get the two ball bearings to sit on their respective ridges on the inside ends of the cot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The solution? Tell yourself that all you were faced with was a simple centrifuge device and that with a twist of the wrist, said balls would be banished from the middle of the toy to come to a comfortable rest on the upper edges. Such was and is the mind-boggling power of the centrifuge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the device is aptly named from the Latin ‘centrum’ (centre) and ‘fugio’ (I flee). What did those silly little steel balls do? Flee from the centre of the silly little cot didn’t they?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Away from family Christmas feasts though, in the real world, the world’s biggest centrifuges are used to momentarily simulate increased gravity on our humble planet. A massive tube spinning around in an equally massive circle subjects whatever’s in either end of it to massive forces far beyond those Newton meddled in when he dropped his apple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At a fairground, it’s the same principals of the centrifuge that are imbued with the power to dangerously reposition the contents of your stomach following a stint on the teacups.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rather beautifully though, centrifuges are used by scientists to microscopically meddle with cells. By spinning a tube many millions of times smaller than the ones used by NASA, the men in white coats can separate the nucleus of a cell from the cytoplasm and other grot that surrounds it. Think egg yokes from egg whites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day to day, your spin dryer does the same centrifugal job. The difference being that your spin dryer isn’t practicing for a space exploration, or looking for cheap nauseating thrills; or discovering the secrets of the human body - it’s trying to separate the water from your clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;h6&gt;posted by &lt;a href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2007/10/subscribe.html'&gt;Diamond Supercool&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/h6&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3425815083240504639-2670259931559402517?l=countnoun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/feeds/2670259931559402517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3425815083240504639&amp;postID=2670259931559402517&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/2670259931559402517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/2670259931559402517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2008/10/centrifuge.html' title='Centrifuge'/><author><name>Diamond Supercool</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06688577968278598777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1ZBRyURHPC0/SJYf3xtjZlI/AAAAAAAAAAM/t6Cfqz6Wx88/S220/My+Epigram+Hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639.post-3841731252891050472</id><published>2008-10-03T17:58:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T19:28:44.086+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Currant</title><content type='html'>The Latin for ‘they would/might/could run’, thus a false friend and fuel for the fire of those who simply will not accept the value of a classical education.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where declining ancient Latin nouns has its difficulties, declining dried fruit is far easier. To make matters even more complicated though, speculation abounds that the word ‘currant’ is actually derived from the ancient Greek city of Corinth (of canal fame). It seems that when the Greeks weren’t pressing grapes, they were drying them. Along with olives, dates, prunes and whatever else, apparently Corinth was a sort of ancient Greek Holland and Barratt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Physically a currant is some sort of bastard brother of the raisin; linguistically it’s the weird sister of ‘current’. As for the tongue twisting possibilities, well they could run and run (geddit?) Try: ‘The current currency can’t be currants’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;h6&gt;posted by &lt;a href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2007/10/subscribe.html'&gt;Diamond Supercool&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/h6&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3425815083240504639-3841731252891050472?l=countnoun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/feeds/3841731252891050472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3425815083240504639&amp;postID=3841731252891050472&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/3841731252891050472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/3841731252891050472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2008/10/currant.html' title='Currant'/><author><name>Diamond Supercool</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06688577968278598777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1ZBRyURHPC0/SJYf3xtjZlI/AAAAAAAAAAM/t6Cfqz6Wx88/S220/My+Epigram+Hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639.post-1525517312280393916</id><published>2008-10-03T17:51:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T19:29:01.094+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Mug</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Any fool duped into performing thankless or pointless tasks, usually on behalf of other people. The derogato&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ry term is likely to have been developed based on the anatomy of an earthenware drinking vessel, which comp&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;ares favourably with a stupid person’s head: thick outer shell, large vacuous inside, easy to get a hold of and practically disposable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how might a day in the life of a mug pan out? Well, at breakfast he’ll drink his tea from a mug of course: cups and saucers being a little too delicate. The day is muggy, so his ugly mug is covered in sweat until lunch. Later in the afternoon though, disaster strikes! The mug is mugged. Fortunately, the criminal is swiftly apprehended and mug shots taken.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ordeal serves a useful purpose however because the mug then spends all evening mugging up on his personal security.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;h6&gt;posted by &lt;a href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2007/10/subscribe.html'&gt;Diamond Supercool&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/h6&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3425815083240504639-1525517312280393916?l=countnoun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/feeds/1525517312280393916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3425815083240504639&amp;postID=1525517312280393916&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/1525517312280393916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/1525517312280393916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2008/10/mug.html' title='Mug'/><author><name>Diamond Supercool</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06688577968278598777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1ZBRyURHPC0/SJYf3xtjZlI/AAAAAAAAAAM/t6Cfqz6Wx88/S220/My+Epigram+Hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639.post-297821187539146297</id><published>2008-10-03T17:45:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T19:29:18.817+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Telephotography</title><content type='html'>Not a word you would be likely to find in the Thesaurus, telephotography is simply the act of photographing a subject from a distance away – the further the better. The ‘tele-’ part of the noun is the ‘from afar’ bit (as in 'television' and 'telephone').&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quite aside from taking pictures though, a massive telephoto lens serves a more subtle purpose. It is in his glorious lack of subtleness that the man using a 16-inch telephoto lens says to the world, “that’s right ladies, this is the size of my lens so you just imagine the size of my penis.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The must-have piece of kit for the telephotographer is irresistibly phallic and this is the reason that when a mid-life crisis creeps up on a man he resorts to one of two things: sports cars or a new-found passion for photography. Either way, he is declaring that his hairline may be receding, his wife may be sleeping in the kids’ room, but hell, he’s still got it downstairs (you’d just need a telephoto lens to find it).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alternatively, the telephotography is the practiced skill of the stalker, or the man desperate for a new wife – perhaps that one he can, thanks to telephotography, capture in all her glory as she undresses in the window 12 streets away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;h6&gt;posted by &lt;a href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2007/10/subscribe.html'&gt;Diamond Supercool&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/h6&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3425815083240504639-297821187539146297?l=countnoun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/feeds/297821187539146297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3425815083240504639&amp;postID=297821187539146297&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/297821187539146297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/297821187539146297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2008/10/telephotography.html' title='Telephotography'/><author><name>Diamond Supercool</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06688577968278598777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1ZBRyURHPC0/SJYf3xtjZlI/AAAAAAAAAAM/t6Cfqz6Wx88/S220/My+Epigram+Hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639.post-1064769360662766494</id><published>2008-10-03T16:51:00.008+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T19:29:46.077+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ma'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='infant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='acronyms'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mother'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mamma'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby-talk'/><title type='text'>Ma</title><content type='html'>As one of the shorter words in the language, ma has a plethora of meanings. Acronymically it can refer to an academic qualification, an American state, a million years, a cannabis support group, and numerous other less interesting things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for most people ma is a colloquialism meaning mother, and in this respect the word is something of a linguistic oddity. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To say ‘a child could have come up with that word’ is a massive understatement – a child &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;did &lt;/span&gt;come up with it. The first word to come from an infant’s mouth is usually mamma, or for those less linguistically inclined, ma. This is where the expression comes from – children continued calling their mothers ma well after they had discovered that the word was nothing more than baby-talk, and eventually so many people were doing it that the word soon gained its place in the dictionary’s pages. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So is ma (and her male partner, pa) unique in being derived from baby-talk? It seems so. The only other contender, gaga, is thought to be derived from a French adjective; not an audible expression of infantile happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;h6&gt;posted by &lt;a href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2007/10/subscribe.html'&gt;Tintin’s Younger Brother&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/h6&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3425815083240504639-1064769360662766494?l=countnoun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/feeds/1064769360662766494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3425815083240504639&amp;postID=1064769360662766494&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/1064769360662766494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/1064769360662766494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2008/10/ma.html' title='Ma'/><author><name>Tintin's younger brother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00774697710471439142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639.post-6853147759683790065</id><published>2008-10-03T13:02:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T19:30:10.857+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scouts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grooming'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dogging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='smuttification'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='innuendo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scouts association'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Robert Baden-Powell'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scouting for Boys'/><title type='text'>Scout</title><content type='html'>The Scouts Association is one of the world’s most inappropriately named organisations. When Robert Baden-Powell founded the Scout Movement back in 1907, it is hard to imagine him doing so without the wryest of wry smiles. The lieutenant-general’s talents were clearly not limited to military know-how and children’s parties – the man was a pioneer of the inappropriate innuendo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there a more fitting term for the sexual pursuit of minors than ‘scouting’? When used in such an unsavoury context it has all the right, and thus wrong, implications – treading unfamiliar ground, monitoring someone’s progress – and, as with all linguistic smuttification, it deflowers any innocence the original noun might have had. The same fate befell ‘cottage’ and ‘dog’. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily for Baden-Powell’s legacy, ‘scouting’ has not become common parlance in paedophilic (or judicial) circles. This is particularly surprising given the title of the Scouts handbook: ‘Scouting for Boys’. It seems the readership in the early twentieth century was more innocent, or perhaps mature, than it is today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a result, the undesirable linguistic accolade of always being associated with paedophilia goes to ‘grooming’; much, no doubt, to the chagrin of hairdressers and stable boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;h6&gt;posted by &lt;a href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2007/10/subscribe.html'&gt;Tintin’s Younger Brother&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/h6&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3425815083240504639-6853147759683790065?l=countnoun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/feeds/6853147759683790065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3425815083240504639&amp;postID=6853147759683790065&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/6853147759683790065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/6853147759683790065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2008/10/scout.html' title='Scout'/><author><name>Tintin's younger brother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00774697710471439142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639.post-8317791263062948009</id><published>2008-10-03T12:59:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T19:30:30.058+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girl guides'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wagggs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scouting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='guides'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girl scouts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wags'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Robert Baden-Powell'/><title type='text'>Girl scout</title><content type='html'>Girl scouts inevitably draw accusations of being tomboys. The moment Robert Baden-Powell decided to organise small boys into large groups and call it scouting, the girls wanted to get involved too. And true to tomboy form, they didn’t just want to do girly stuff; they wanted the real deal. To appease these feminists-in-waiting, Baden-Powell set up a group exclusively for girls in 1910: the girl guides.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl scouts and girl guides are one and the same – the latter is simply an alliteratively pleasing synonym for the former. This fact didn’t prevent the creation of an umbrella organisation: the World Association of Girl Guides and Girl Scouts, or WAGGGS. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is not an ideal acronym. When this venerable institution was founded back in 1928, people probably made jokes about a dog’s tail. Nowadays it’s more likely to invite comparisons with the Wives and Girlfriends of high-earning footballers; the infamous WAGs. In 2007 a poll found that, of about 3000 guides asked, 95% felt that Victoria Beckham had the greatest influence over young women, but only 5% saw her as a positive example.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clearly most WAGGGS are not intent on becoming WAGs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;h6&gt;posted by &lt;a href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2007/10/subscribe.html'&gt;Tintin’s Younger Brother&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/h6&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3425815083240504639-8317791263062948009?l=countnoun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/feeds/8317791263062948009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3425815083240504639&amp;postID=8317791263062948009&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/8317791263062948009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/8317791263062948009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2008/10/girl-scouts.html' title='Girl scout'/><author><name>Tintin's younger brother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00774697710471439142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639.post-5412927361290831853</id><published>2008-10-03T12:03:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T19:30:50.579+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='undertakers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Soviets'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='corpse-disposal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='overcoat'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='USSR'/><title type='text'>Overcoat</title><content type='html'>Overcoats are depressing garments. While sharp suits intimidate and lacy thongs titillate, dreary overcoats only manage to enervate. They are the uniform of the miserable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shunted to the back of the wardrobe during summer months, they only appear when winter is approaching. As days grow shorter, coats become longer. Happiness levels are often reflected by hours of sunlight; the same could be said for inches of overcoat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is entirely appropriate that undertakers wear overcoats. Those involved in the corpse-disposal industry need to put on a permanent display of earnest solemnity – nothing achieves this better than an overcoat. You will never see an undertaker without one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unsurprisingly, the only other profession to adopt the overcoat as a uniform was the military (from the funeral home to the front line; it seems that wherever death goes, overcoats follow). The Soviet army, veterans of the deep-frozen military excursion, have always been strongest advocates of this gloomy garment. But as the 20th century rolled on and technology advanced, the overcoat, much like the Soviets, became increasingly redundant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For final proof of the overcoat’s depressing tendencies, look no further than your nearest phrasebook. To ‘put on the wooden overcoat’ is, simply, to die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;h6&gt;posted by &lt;a href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2007/10/subscribe.html'&gt;Tintin’s Younger Brother&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/h6&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3425815083240504639-5412927361290831853?l=countnoun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/feeds/5412927361290831853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3425815083240504639&amp;postID=5412927361290831853&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/5412927361290831853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/5412927361290831853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2008/10/overcoat.html' title='Overcoat'/><author><name>Tintin's younger brother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00774697710471439142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639.post-4737655221243423661</id><published>2008-10-02T12:33:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T19:31:10.835+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slovakia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nymphomania'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nymph'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Czech Republic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hypersaxuality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Czechoslovakia'/><title type='text'>Nymphomania</title><content type='html'>Nymphomania is the nounal equivalent of Czechoslovakia. Both were created in the early twentieth century: psychologists created the former to describe the phenomenon of a ‘clinically significant’ desire to fornicate; politicians founded the latter as one of the successor states of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the century rumbled on, both found limited degrees of success. Nymphomania became a popular subject for pornographic material and pubescent male fantasies, Czechoslovakia went through the ignominy of non-existence during World War II. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But neither the psychological condition nor the Eastern European country made it into the new millennium. Nymphomania became an outdated medical term. Psychologists rebranded the condition ‘hypersexuality’, and hoped that everyone would return to thinking of a nymph as a Greek mythological character and mania as an obsessive form of enthusiasm. Meanwhile Czechoslovakia was peacefully broken up in 1993 with the foundation of two new states: the Czech Republic and Slovakia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the country’s restructuring was not entirely free of casualties: the ‘o’ in Czechoslovakia disappeared for ever. Nymphomaniacs, on the other hand, have retained their ‘o’, and still, proudly (against the psychologists’ wishes) refer to themselves as ‘nymphos’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;h6&gt;posted by &lt;a href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2007/10/subscribe.html'&gt;Tintin’s Younger Brother&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/h6&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3425815083240504639-4737655221243423661?l=countnoun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/feeds/4737655221243423661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3425815083240504639&amp;postID=4737655221243423661&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/4737655221243423661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/4737655221243423661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2008/10/nymphomania_02.html' title='Nymphomania'/><author><name>Tintin's younger brother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00774697710471439142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639.post-6872474633553686397</id><published>2007-10-04T14:43:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T23:42:49.833+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='About'/><title type='text'>About Countnoun</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Countnoun is what happened when a small group of writers bit off more than they could chew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The aim was, and is still, to write an entry for every noun in the English language - or at least every noun in the pocket English dictionary. (That’s the “bit off” part). This could mean writing somewhere in the region of 125,00 entries. (That’s the “more than they could chew” part)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So is Countnoun an encyclopaedia or is it a dictionary? Good question. It’s somewhere between the two. The idea is that every entry on the site either tells you something about the subject that you didn’t already know, or makes you look at that subject in a different light. What you won’t find is information readily available by simply browsing through Wikipedia or casually flicking through the dictionary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, you probably didn’t realise that it's only the miserable who wear &lt;a href="http:http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2008/10/overcoat.html"&gt;overcoats&lt;/a&gt;; you probably didn’t know that Hitler controlled World War Two from his ‘&lt;a href="http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2008/10/eyrie.html"&gt;eagle’s nests&lt;/a&gt;’; and chances are that you didn’t have a clue what a &lt;a href="http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2008/10/pyx.html"&gt;pyx&lt;/a&gt; was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each entry on Countnoun is between 150 and 350 words long, carefully written and, above all else, interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3425815083240504639-6872474633553686397?l=countnoun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/feeds/6872474633553686397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3425815083240504639&amp;postID=6872474633553686397&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/6872474633553686397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/6872474633553686397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2007/10/about-countnoun.html' title='About Countnoun'/><author><name>Tintin's younger brother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00774697710471439142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639.post-616322879570850931</id><published>2007-10-04T12:36:00.032+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T00:00:48.343+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Contributors</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h5&gt; &lt;a href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2006/10/diamond-supercool.html'&gt;Diamond Supercool&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2006/10/profile.html'&gt;Epaminondas&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2006/10/tintins-younger-brother.html'&gt;Tintin's Younger Brother&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3425815083240504639-616322879570850931?l=countnoun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/feeds/616322879570850931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3425815083240504639&amp;postID=616322879570850931&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/616322879570850931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/616322879570850931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2007/10/subscribe.html' title='Contributors'/><author><name>Tintin's younger brother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00774697710471439142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639.post-5716709366228819684</id><published>2007-10-04T12:35:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T00:20:53.996+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Features</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This part of the site is under construction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3425815083240504639-5716709366228819684?l=countnoun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/feeds/5716709366228819684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3425815083240504639&amp;postID=5716709366228819684&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/5716709366228819684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/5716709366228819684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2007/10/privacy-policy.html' title='Features'/><author><name>Tintin's younger brother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00774697710471439142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639.post-8735274484871123017</id><published>2007-10-04T12:32:00.014+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T23:40:43.649+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Contact Us</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone can submit an entry to the site, as long as it fulfils the criteria mentioned in the &lt;a href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2007/10/about-countnoun.html'&gt;About&lt;/a&gt; section of this page.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To contribute, send your entry in the body of an &lt;a href='mailto:countnoun@gmail.com'&gt;email&lt;/a&gt;. We’ll have a quick look over it and provided it’s any good it will appear on the site a day or two later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3425815083240504639-8735274484871123017?l=countnoun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/feeds/8735274484871123017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3425815083240504639&amp;postID=8735274484871123017&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/8735274484871123017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/8735274484871123017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2008/10/contact-us.html' title='Contact Us'/><author><name>Tintin's younger brother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00774697710471439142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639.post-1230598891525674014</id><published>2007-10-04T12:32:00.011+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T23:13:06.948+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Nom de Plume</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This part of the site is under construction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3425815083240504639-1230598891525674014?l=countnoun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/feeds/1230598891525674014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3425815083240504639&amp;postID=1230598891525674014&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/1230598891525674014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/1230598891525674014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2008/10/about-us.html' title='Nom de Plume'/><author><name>Tintin's younger brother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00774697710471439142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639.post-7766778316863904026</id><published>2006-10-22T23:54:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T23:57:05.545+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Epaminondas'/><title type='text'>Profile</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;strong&gt;EPAMINONDAS&lt;/strong&gt; is an unemployed building surveyor and an amateur writer.&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3425815083240504639-7766778316863904026?l=countnoun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/7766778316863904026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/7766778316863904026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2006/10/profile.html' title='Profile'/><author><name>Tintin's younger brother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00774697710471439142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639.post-9148953000704578827</id><published>2006-10-22T23:32:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-22T16:22:15.047Z</updated><title type='text'>Profile</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TINTIN'S YOUNGER BROTHER&lt;/strong&gt; is an unemployed journalist, and one of the founders of Countnoun.&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3425815083240504639-9148953000704578827?l=countnoun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/9148953000704578827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/9148953000704578827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2006/10/tintins-younger-brother.html' title='Profile'/><author><name>Tintin's younger brother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00774697710471439142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425815083240504639.post-1517364675121958860</id><published>2006-10-22T23:26:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T23:49:09.974+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Profile</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;strong&gt;DIAMOND SUPERCOOL&lt;/strong&gt; is a freelance journalist, and one of the founders of Countnoun.&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3425815083240504639-1517364675121958860?l=countnoun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/1517364675121958860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3425815083240504639/posts/default/1517364675121958860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countnoun.blogspot.com/2006/10/diamond-supercool.html' title='Profile'/><author><name>Tintin's younger brother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00774697710471439142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
