Useless (youngwilliam) wrote,


Y'ever run into the rare instance of discovering that what you thought was a word actually wasn't?

About the only times I've run into it before has been the occasional 'snuck' vs 'sneaked' thing, as well as phrases ("mute point", "all intensive purposes", "when all is sad and done", etc..), but I recently stumbled upon one that really surprised me. I was writing up a thing about a particular statistic showing how well one can, eh.. "take" damage. When I was dictating to myself pre-typing, I said that it was how much damage one could withstain, but I wasn't sure if I was spelling that correctly. So I tried "withstane" on a whim. When that failed, I tried and found that it wasn't a word at all! "Withstand" is the actual word (sort of, since I imagined it as something withstaining damage, hopefully withstanding it), but I've no clue where I got "withstain" from.

In other surprising news, I'd been going on for a few years now about the idea of Google having an image search, such that it renders a given image down into some simple form, then trawls the web for other images that match that simplified image. Google's yet to get around to doing that, but TinEye has started doing it! Woo hoo!

Example: I like skulls. You like skulls. (I want your skulls. I need your skulls...sorry. I had a little Danzig moment, there). Here's a nice little picture of some skulls. Gosh, I wonder where that picture is from, other than someone's PhotoBucket account? Why, with the magic of, we can discover that Ben Johnson apparently took that picture while he was at the Czech Kostnice Ossuary!

While on the subject of internet searching, there was a fellow named John Charpentier who was in the greater Bangor area (Bangor, Orrington, Bucksport, etc..) in 2006. Apparently he backed up into someone else's car (while drunk with a 20-something young lady), embezzled from a church, and held up the Mt. Hope Variety Store with a claw hammer, all in a couple of months back then.

I really couldn't care less about Mr. Charpentier, quite frankly, but instead my point is to track down his sister. She came into town from Boston back when he was pre-trial for the hammer bit and I ran into her at Christopher's. It was a slow night, so it was just the bartender, myself, and herself there and talking. She seemed nice and I only just now found the letter I'd never gotten around to sending to the Bangor Jail while Mr. Charpentier was being held.

Surprisingly, although I can find reports of these three charges, I'm not finding any internet records of if he was actually convicted of anything.
Tags: etymology
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