Unwinding Ubiquities, Entry One: "Pike's Peak or Bust"

Hello, everyone!


     Have you heard any of the sweet and impressive violin covers by Seda Baykara? If not, I would recommend giving them a listen. Baykara's arrangements are lovely, and she seems like someone whom I would love to meet. I'm actually feeling a bit under the weather today, but her work greatly lifted my spirits. In fact, watching her videos inspired me to work on a new project for That Doesn't Happen!

(Via Imaginary Wars)

     While I was dreaming up my new project, I began to wonder about the origins of the phrase "...or bust," as in the saying "California or Bust." After a bit of research I stumbled upon an etymological debate, and, because I'm a little ill today, I was compelled to formulate a stance. (I tend to rant about silly things when I'm not feeling well. Do you do nonsensical things when you're sick?) Thus the first post of Unwinding Ubiquities, a series of brief explorations into etymology, was born. If you are for some reason interested in what I have discovered about the tiny phrase above, then read on, dear reader, read on!

     As it happens, there are several variations of opinion about the origin of the "or bust" construction, though all of the sources that I've seen agree that it is from the U.S. Some state that Dust Bowl refugees were the first to use the saying, citing the "California or Bust" signs in Steinbeck's Grapes of Wrath. The expression, however, appears to predate the Great Depression. The earliest version that I found at a cursory search was from the 1800s, when gold prospectors painted the slogan "Pike's Peak or Bust" on their expedition wagons.

     Not only do etymologists debate the saying's origins, but they also disagree on its meaning. Some claim that the phrase "or bust" references the idea of "going bust," which is equivalent in some contexts to "going broke." Setting aside the "or bust" conundrum for a moment, however, one must admit that when "going bust" is used in this way it functions as a derivative idiom stretched from the basic meaning of "bust." In other words, when the phrase "going bust" is used within a setting of bankruptcy, it performs a specific contextual application of a word which, outside of this narrow context, has a very general definition. For in most conversational settings, "bust" has a broad metaphorical meaning, which is to fail so spectacularly that the aftermath is akin to that of an explosion.* To assume that the slogan "Pike's Peak or Bust" meant that miners were merely willing to risk financial destitution is to apply the word "bust" in one of its most narrow and specific senses, and the context does not provide enough evidence to support such a leap.

     Additionally, when Etymology Online suggested that the saying "...or bust" was linked to the phrase "bust (one's) boiler," they explained that the latter expression alluded to overworking one's steamboat until the engine exploded. Within a similar vein,** several English speakers who were asked to define the "or bust" idiom equated it with the phrase "or die trying." These comparisons point us toward the more general sense of "bust" given in the paragraph above, and I agree with those leanings. The historical motto of "Pike's Peak or Bust" and its many variants express something a bit darker (and a bit more melodramatic, apropos of U.S. American culture) than bare financial commitment.

     In sum, this is a very rough-hewn, very Yankee expression. The Gold Rushers with whom it seems to have originated were facing more than monetary bankruptcy: In many cases, the journey to and the conditions on the frontier were fatally risky. Were these prospectors driven predominantly by iron determination, golden delusion, or black desperation? No doubt the cocktail of motive differed from person to person. One imagines, though, that if we asked these characters to explain the phrase in question themselves, they might respond with something like this: "We're gonna give it all we've got, and the only way we'll stop is if we get there or we die on the way."

On that note, adieu, and to any fellow invalids reading this, get well soon!

L.


*After all, let's remember that "bust" itself is a dialectal descendant of its elder relative, "burst," which means to pop or explode.

**Nudge nudge, wink wink.

Tuneful Tuesdays: Comfort Eagle

(By CAKE)

     Autophagic consumerism, enervating entertainment, marketing priests. This song may be outdated by music industry standards, but the timeliness of its message has, I'm afraid, no end in sight.

Gilded Words: Sophocles (Part I)

(Via Pinterest)

"Seven captains at our seven gates,
Marshaled against equal foes, left
To Zeus the Router bronze weapons,
Except those two wretches, who were
Born of the same father and the same mother,
Standing against each other with doubly-slaying spears:
They both took an equal measure of their common death."

-- Sophocles, from Antigone (translated by J. E. Thomas)    

        Ah, Antigone! What a staggeringly well-crafted play! This work is a well of thought-provoking concepts, powerful characters, and exquisite expression. Choosing a passage to highlight today was a pleasantly difficult task, and no doubt future Gilded Words posts will feature further excerpts from this amazing author.

       The selection above, however, is a particularly fitting way to kick-off our celebration of Antigone. Its vividness, poignancy, and elegant structure communicate an appropriately solemn gravity within a dancing fluidity of narrative and a masterful juxtaposition of concepts. It is a magnificent illustration of the tragedian's high calling, which is to find the beauty, nobility, and meaning in the darkest events.

        In like manner, the rest of the play examines the truly heart-rending loss that occurs when two colossal idealists, Creon and Antigone, confront each other. As we delve deeper, we'll also discover that one of this work's most marvelous aspects is that the seemingly larger-than-life elements that drive the plot are (very profoundly) woven in amongst familiar motives and sentiments. The result is a fascinating consideration of loyalty to state as opposed to loyalty to family and the reasoning behind both, as well as a rich depiction of various facets of human nature.

        It is so exciting to begin this exploration with you, dear reader, and I would love to hear your interpretations as we go along. If this excerpt has ignited your curiosity, please check out the play and join in the conversation! It is short, and well worth the read, so I would recommend it to even the busiest of us.

Looking forward to hearing from you,

L.

That Doesn't Happen

Hello, dear reader!

     I hope that this Friday finds you festive and well! This is just a quick note to let you know that we recently opened a new blog called That Doesn't Happen. This is a project that we've had in the works for quite a while, and we are so excited to launch it. We are still working on the template and design details, but in the meantime there are a few posts up for you to peruse, if you'd like. More updates to come, and thanks again for reading!

Happy Friday,

L.

P.S. -- Up next on Practically Absurd, we have a new Gilded Words post headed your way. We hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed writing it!

The Not-Yet Present

(Via Senexx)

   What do you do when your plans fall through?

   First things first, you can revel in the internal rhyme of the above question. Or, depending on your inclination, you can cringe at it. Now that's out of the way, though, what's next?

   A little over a week ago, I faced a severe disappointment when I learned that it would not be fiscally possible for me simultaneously to avoid debt and to attend The King's College in New York City. I still love TKC, and I fully support the institution's mission. That night, however, the sudden blow gave me clarity instead of sleep. Though I had to work at 5 AM the next day, it was a good trade.

    By closing that financial door, God allowed the fog of cultural demands and personal idolatry to part for a moment. The rejection stung, but over the next few days God continued to show me amazing things: truths which I previously had known but not accepted. Incredibly, divinely, the Lord chose that night to give me a growing peace and optimism. 

   I love to plan. I would love to spend every spare moment writing up step-by-step programs for achieving my goals. I suppose it's one of the places where the wide-eyed dreamer and the stubborn pragmatist in me meet. So far, though, those plans have not been successful. In fact, this latest failure was simply the most recent in a long string of defeated ambitions.

   Thus, I was again left with the following question: When we've planned and strategized, we've tried to follow wisdom and counsel, and we've done our best, how do we deal with failure?

   I've tried to face rejection many times before in my own strength, and have ended up in bitter despondency for months on end. What the Lord did this time, though, was miraculous. In the midst of the derailment of my future, He began to make me content, more hopeful about life than ever before, and confident for the very first time. He reminded me that all of life is an adventure. Gently, He reminded me that when we walk hand-in-hand with Him, there is no circumstance that we ought to fear and no excuse for self-piteous, self-absorbed apathy to the blessings and beauty all around us. 

   The Lord has closed many doors for me, and no doubt He has done the same for you. Yet He has also provided for us. He has planted every flower that we so admire during these burgeoning days of spring. He has written the hymn that every songbird sings as it builds its vernal nest. For many of us, He has given us families, freedom from oppression, and the chance to learn new things about the world each day. In this moment, the ever-slipping yet ever-renewing present, He has given me loved-ones, books, birdsong, and a sunnily verdant day of rest. Most importantly, He has led us to Himself and His word, wherein He tells us of His greatest provision of all: the sacrifice of His only Son, Jesus, Who is now risen and pleading on our behalf, actively bringing us back into unity with God. By His grace and by the tender, life-giving ministrations of the Spirit, I trust that the same beautiful, majestic Deity who provides for my present will also provide for my not-yet present. 

   So how do we deal with failure? Surprisingly enough, we don't. We can't, at least not with any success. Only God can bring us through failure. It's such a simple thought, yet so incomprehensible until the Spirit makes it real for us. In the end, however, whether confronted with failure or success, we face it all with our hands in the hand of God, trusting that He will continue in His sovereign goodness and boldly awaiting the glorious adventure to come.

Why I'm Not Getting My B.A.: A Manifesto

      I have tried to take the well-worn path over and over. I've waited anxiously to hear from colleges and universities, and I've felt the surge of relief and shadow of pride that comes from acceptance. Afterwards, the real work would begin: fighting for scholarships, desperately scraping together funds from every cobwebbed corner.

      Yet time and time again, my debt-free policy has barred me from realizing my academic dreams. So, time and time again, I've tried to rally my resources. When one door remained firmly shut, I would settle for squeezing through any open crevice left to me.

       Today, a financial door remained closed. My history predicts that I ought now to be resignedly searching for a gap in the hedges. I should be crawling around, looking for some other way to join the masses, whether that be through a state university, online classes, or what have you. Today, though, the cycle just may have been broken.

       Much as I admire the college in question, today's disappointment has finally clarified the ridiculousness of my predicament. I want to learn. I want an intellectual challenge. I want to be pushed to become something more than I am. At the same time, I have clung to the idea that there is only one way to do that, and that way is to barter thousands of dollars and years of one's life on the off-chance of meeting one or two engaged professors along the way.

       As this final opportunity has been taken away, however, I have come to the following decision: I will not slave away, postponing a meaningful life and saving every penny I make over the next few years, just so that I can pay it all plus my time to some institution. I will not spend my youth in arduous labor for nothing more than the privilege of making a college rich. The myth of our society, that the vita beata can be bought for the price of hundreds of thousands of dollars and one paper certificate, is neither true nor tolerable.

      To achieve that to which I aspire, I need training. I know that. I know that I am woefully under-skilled and, more importantly, under-disciplined and under-passionate. I refuse, however, to bleed myself on the altar of the all-important degree. What we students are being asked to sacrifice is not just our wages but our time, our service, our passion, and our prime.
   
        The amount of money I have already given these institutions as part of my cultural homage is staggering. The amount of time and energy--which so easily might have been devoted to better causes--is by far a more terrible price. That ends today, dear reader. Whether or not I succeed in my goals, I will not continue to fall for the marketing schemes and the peer pressure of our age.


        An God wills it, I will find my own way.

Ode to What Was Lost

 
   You should be there. I should still know that if I go there, I'll find you. My mind knows what happened, but my heart is still simply asking, "Where are you?"