Thomas Bulford's English Companion

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Preview To purchase this paperback book click here. Kindle edition click here.

Š Ian Burns


In the spirit of “An Exaltation of Larks” with a strong dose of “Down Under” humour, Australian author Ian Burns has created a word lover’s anthology that gives new life to many words and phrases no longer in daily usage, and redefines others to more closely represent modern meanings. The work is a lexical odyssey of puns and plays on words, infectious in spirit, which will charm word lovers everywhere. The author has created the persona of Thomas Bulford, a turn of the (20th) century English cum Australian academic and eccentric who infuses his biting wit and whimsical persona throughout the book. The book is divided into twenty-seven categories, such as, Women, Money, Science, and Countries, each with introductory text by Bulford expounding with his piercing observations on the state of the world and life, ala Oscar Wilde. This is then followed by an extensive array of words, their phonetic transcriptions, and his definitions, for example: 

Androgynous [an.droj.in.us] n. an ancient Greek thespian, famous for his ability to combine several roles into one.

Cactoblastis (kak:toh`blaah!st’s) n. a terrifying form of diarrhoea (see p).

Pomace (pom:ays) n. an exceedingly clever, though rare, Englishman.

Vision (vij’n) n. a word, naturally, with two eyes.

Xylyl (?zy?:lill) n. any word which can never be pronounced correctly the first or second time – by when it’s too late, anyway - and which, coincidentally, represents a very small class of words that are apparently vowel-free. The result is a language affectionado’s garden of delights with over 1,600 words

humorously redefined. There are lots of plays on words and double entendres, which will appeal to anyone who likes words, language, or cryptic crosswords. To purchase this compendium of irresistible language distortions click here.

© Ian Burns


(From the book)

Editor’s Note

Thomas Bulford, Ph.D. (Princeton), M.A. (Cambridge), M.Ed. (Melb.), B.Litt. (E’burgh), LLM (Sorbonne), Dip.Conflict Resolution (Belgrade), Dip.Languages (PNG), Dip.Mining (J’burg), Dip.M’biology (C’church), Dip.Phys.Ed. (P’yang), Cert.Teaching (Adelaide); A.Mus.A. (A’alia), Member, Société de Transporte (Belg.), Fellow, Royal Conglomerancy of Etymologists and/& Lexicographers, died recently leaving approximately 10,000 individual pieces of paper of various GSMs and colours, many torn from larger pieces, some glued to pieces of wood (which were also inscribed), and generally assembled in an order similar to what would have happened if he’d dropped them all from the top of the Eiffel Tower on a windy day. Unfortunately, and for no reason that can be gleaned, as I never met the illustrious man, he left meticulous instructions in his Will that I should sort the said pieces of paper, use his categorizations as appropriate (which was no small task, and no doubt flawed), and find a Publisher (he insisted on the capital “P”, being characteristically insightful into the minds of people who possess the life-and-death power of deciding what does and, much more frequently, doesn’t find its way into print). Comparing Bulford’s work with that of Onions et al in the Shorter Oxford Dictionary and various others, it can be seen that he’s been able to give new life to many words and phrases no longer in daily, or even century, use, and to re-define others to more closely represent modern meanings, or vice versa. But whether it was worth the trouble he’s caused me?

Ian Burns, Editor

© Ian Burns


Preface

This work, which has no doubt been much improved, is the result of a degree of disillusionment with the present and current usage of the English language, where thousands of perfectly good words are no longer used (if they ever were, when you take a look at some of them) or can be put to much better use with a slight alteration in pronunciation. And, of course, there are many things in everyday life that don’t have their own words and should. It occurs to me that my Editor, in extremis, might be a little puzzled as to why I chose him. The answer is simple: I knew his grandfather, a prolific author, to whom I gave expert advice on a special project involving the breeding of rabbits; that they didn’t do so was no fault of mine, and is almost certainly why he turned to writing. I hope you enjoy the work, and steer clear of multiple marriages!

Thomas Bulford

© Ian Burns


Foreword This remarkable book, modestly including in its title a word indicating an intimate relationship but not necessarily in the sexual connotation, also subtly but stylishly understates its importance to humanity, which, I’m delighted to affirm, in spite of doubts uncharitably expressed by citizens of the United Kingdom, or England anyway, definitely includes the citizens of the United States, or at least those there legitimately or who may have gone there for perfectly legitimate reasons, from their point or points of view, if not mine, this remarkable book, as I said previously above at the beginning of this Foreword which the Publisher asked me, indeed insisted, I write, once he discovered that my late father, whose book this truly is, actually had a son extant if not exactly ubiquitous although obviously slightly peripatetic but with, modesty notwithstanding, some natural and certainly inherited literary skill, as can be seen, has brought a lump to my throat or, rather, an additional lump as there was one there already, which tends to go up and down quite rapidly, even when I’m not swallowing, which, as might easily be expected, is not often, but that is digressing from the point of expressing my extreme pleasure in reading the life work of my father, or that is what I assume, who is now, no doubt, in heaven, of some sort, probably exchanging words with Johnson, Funk, Wagnell, or, joy, Webster, presuming that they are there, which is more than likely, and I’m sure that they, as I, will be or am or are quite amazed at his verbosity and verisimilitude, which is a word pretty hard to get in nowadays, even to dictionaries, as well as his simplicity and simple understanding of the human condition, which, it has to be said, was severely lacking between himself and his son with regard to instruction in written English, regardless of whether this was in Australian, American, or even New Zealand, but nevertheless we now have, through the tireless efforts of a magnificent though sadly unsung Editor, words and meanings that will now fly around the world and enrich our understanding and appreciation of our mother tongue and its speech and pronunciation for ever or perhaps slightly less. Thomas Bulford Jnr II Natimuk/Little Cowhorn/Upperlowerfield/Pont-sur-la-montagne July 2001

© Ian Burns


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Thomas Bulford - a Profile Anon. Thomas Bulford was a giant of the 20th century, a man in virtually every sense of the word, who had, to quote George Bernard Shaw, when speaking of him, “a word for virtually every sense of man.” His amazing, and somewhat confounding, knowledge of the English Language began, with an aptness that he often remarked on, with a twinkle in his good eye, in England. Born in Winchester (the ancient capital of that sceptred isle) on the very day that the Victorian Age ended— another much-relished piece of aptness— the then-very young Bulford spent his waking hours staring at his nursery ceiling, devising words from the (to anyone else) chaotic strands of cobwebs which festooned the intricate plaster work, often discovering different words in the same place at different times of the day, according to the varying shadows cast by the ever-changing English sun streaming fitfully through the high-arched window. At an early age, though not quite as young as in his Winchester days, his parents took Thomas and his sister (who, at the time, was not born) to America, the first of the many times that he visited that great country. It was here that he again demonstrated his amazing, though still relatively nascent, abilities, being able to recall, without error, the name of every railway station that their train stopped at between New York and San Francisco, the quality of that station’s coffee, whether the station had main or branch lines leading away from it to the north or south, and the nationality of each conductor who came to their compartment while he was awake. Interestingly, and it cannot be pure coincidence, he later studied in each of these countries, learning the local language and, remarkably, teaching this as well. From San Francisco the family trio and gradually expanding extension took passage on a steamer for South America via, of course, Central America. It was during this period that young Thomas first experienced the world of revolutions, revoluciones, and revolutionaries (he termed them “revolting” long before the pun became fashionable

© Ian Burns


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with the chattering classes), and this whetted his appetite for adventure, an appetite that remained unsated up to his unfortunate death. Regrettably a very large gap ensues in Thomas’s biography following their arrival in Tierra del Fuego, roughly spanning the period between the beginning of World War 1 (which he christened, but never copyrighted, “the WWW”) and the end of the Great Depression. Several times I tried to discover where he and his family spent this period but each time I broached the subject he retreated into embarrassed introspection, being particularly unforthcoming about his sister. The only clue I ever had, and this was the merest of hints, was his sudden and unusual animation during a David Attenborough program on the Galapagos Islands (the part where the newly-hatched baby lizards had to escape from the bottom of a dormant volcano, running the gauntlet of prescient birds of prey). 1935 was when I first met Thomas, and it was in Australia. I’d been sent there by a respected, though now sadly defunct, Winchester (yes, quite a coincidence!) monthly, to write an article discussing whether the long boat trip out and back was really worth it. We struck up an immediate friendship, me being a very good listener, and, one thing leading to another, even down under, I never went back to England so could not, in all conscience, file the article. By this time Bulford was well into acquiring his impressive array of academic qualifications, an admirable, if exhausting, policy which he pursued at great personal cost up until only a few months before he died. It is pertinent to point out, here, that all of his studies were undertaken in the native language of the host academic venue, which surely gave him many insights into this astounding human condition, as well as an appreciation of the many possibilities of the spoken, as well as the written, word. He also became convinced of the importance of maintaining local languages, as long as these were accompanied by a proper recognition of English. Thomas had a wicked, if subtle, sense of humour (hinted at in his family motto: fallire est successus factum), and he could find the lighter side almost everywhere he went. Thomas Bulford. A smith who took base words and spun them into gold. Yes, a giant of the 20th century. To purchase this paperback book click here. Kindle edition click here. © Ian Burns


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