Yes, I keep a list of little jot-down notes containing various snippets of ideas, observations and just plain word fragments. I hate to lose ideas to the fickle ether that is my gray matter, so I try to make use of the note-taking utility found on either my iPod Touch or my phone.

And “caff-fiend” has been on that list for a while now. Combining caffeine + fiend isn’t wholly original, but it’s suitable enough for blog-fodder. Like this.

I had a devil of a time finding the context for introducing caff-fiend into the wild, though. Sure, we’re all familiar with the fiendish impulses that come from regular caffeine intake; but how best to relate it? I figured I’d have to wait for some slice-of-life story to come my way.

And then, improbably enough, I come across this same wordplay, on a philosophically-theme tribute blog for the venerable comic strip “Ziggy”.

I thought, this’ll do. And so it has.

I’m not sure which of the above wordplays I like better.

A startup, as in a just-launched business venture, often by nature is an upstart in its industry.

On the other hand, there’s no such thing as a “hedgeslammer”. But as fast-and-loose as the hedge fund industry is, I can see this made-up word (courtesy of yours truly) being employed in the near future to describe some crusading public official who goes after the unregulated money holes, and uses sledgehammer-like methods to lay down the hurt.

I was totally grokking ESPN.com hockey writer Scott Burnside’s column on how everyone — including fans and media — should stop complaining about the money being spent on National Hockey League free agent signings this offseason, since that activity is directly linked to how much money the league is making.

But then, he lost me two-thirds of the way in, when he overextended his point:

Wouldn’t it be ironic if the very fantasy of many hockey fans and observers, the constriction of the NHL’s 30 franchises, came about as a direct result of the very system that was supposed to ensure the health of all 30 franchises?

League officials have quietly said the beauty of the cap is it creates a “survival of the fittest” environment. They were talking about the on-ice product, suggesting that with a narrow gap between what teams must spend to reach the floor ($40.7 million this coming season) and the ceiling ($56.7 million), only the best hockey people will succeed. But survival of the fittest might also extend to franchises themselves. If teams can’t cut it, even with revenue sharing and cost certainty in place, they should be gone. Simple as that. Shut the doors and say good night, Irene.

No, no, and no. Just as companies typically never downsize their way to greatness, neither does a major-league sports league contract its way to relevance. Quite the opposite, in fact.

And, not to be (too much of) a nitpicker, but this is the first instance I’ve seen of the term “constriction” being used to describe what’s actually contraction, i.e. the folding of under-performing franchise to (supposedly) achieve a more concentrated product league-wide. In my mind at least, while it’s related to that concept, constriction is a different ball of wax.

Born out of either eco-consciousness or gasoline-fueled economic distress (or both), the newsworthy buzzword on this normally automobile-dominated Memorial Day weekend is “staycation”, i.e. the stay-at-home vacation.

Works for me. Not only am I happy to enjoy a day off hereabouts, but I’m always a sucker for a newly-born portmanteau.

At this past Friday’s Jelly session (wonderfully hosted by Kara by the way), some minor debate cropped up about Twitter. Specifically, there was some doubt cast on whether or not “twitter” was a real word, or else some nonsensical URL string of letters.

I quickly quelled the debate by calling up the Dictionary.com definition of “twitter”, specifically this one:

2. to talk lightly and rapidly, esp. of trivial matters; chatter.

Yes, the microblogging dynamic pretty much fits this summation. Although the site’s liberal use of the bird motif tells me that the Twitter bosses are hearkening to the association with “birds a’twittering” figurative description as well.

From this, we pondered that the word “twit” might be derived from the above. Whether it is or not, the increasingly frequent Twitter.com outages (which also came up among Twittering Jelly-ers on Friday) will probably prompt more than one invocation of that British-ish insult term toward the Head Twits in charge. Unless “Shitter” doesn’t take hold first.

A few days back, while chatting with a fellow laptop-lugger at *$, I encouraged her to check out my online thang by telling her I had a blog.

She looked a little confused. “A writer’s blog?” I thought I heard her ask.

“Yeah,” I replied. “I guess you could call it that.”

“There are books that can help with that problem,” she offered.

Um. Granted, I can get a little too engaged with this site, but I’m not sure I’d label it as a “problem”.

But then, I realized what was going on, and I clarified: “No no — it’s not ‘writer’s block’. It’s a blog.”

I guess I should work on that enunciation. English was her second language though, so I’ll assign her partial blame for the momentary misunderstanding. Besides, it’s not unheard of for blogging to lead to blockage.

A bumper sticker I spied not too long ago, upstate (I snapped a cameraphone photo of it, but it came out too crappy to use):

LIBERALS ARE PEOPLE TOO
THERE JUST POLITICALLY INCORRECT!

Yup, “there”, instead of “they’re”. No better way to sabotage an otherwise bold statement than via a boneheaded misspelling.

I would attribute this to a recent rash of mad-as-hell grammatical challenges, except that it appears this doofus has been displaying his cluelessness for a couple of years.

Weardrobe is an online, largely phototag-driven clothing-catalogue community, designed to create a huge virtual fashion closet via the aggregation of millions of users’ wardrobe choices.

Not really my kind of thing.

But I found out about it by peeking at the guest list for tomorrow’s Jelly coworking session in Brooklyn, which I’m attending. Weardrobe founder Suzanne Xie will also be there, and so I’d love to pitch the following add-on to her site:

Weirdrobe. Like, weird items of clothing, or donned combinations of such, that elicit puzzlement and awe from onlookers. Or something like that.

Hey, I’m a sucker for puns. Weardrobe got the ball rolling, so I’ll give it another push.

When phishing attempts wind up in C-level inboxes, a new scale of Web-trawling terminology is necessary:

The tactic of aiming at the rich and powerful with an online scam is referred to by computer security experts as whaling. The term is a play on phishing, an approach that usually involves tricking e-mail users — in this case the big fish — into divulging personal information like credit card numbers. Phishing attacks that are directed at a particular person, rather than blasted out to millions, are also known as spear phishing.

Ahoy, thar they blow! As always, these easily-duped CEOs need to check the URL string in the status bar — ahem, “periscope” — to avoid this Internet-borne scurvy.

I’m sure many a corporate notebook-computing jockey is tittering over the idea of “going topless” — with “topless” in this case meaning laptop-less, referring to an effort among Silicon Valley companies to make face-to-face meetings more productive via elimination of distracting portable monitors.

And actually, since I just used the suggestive “tittering” when describing a term suggestive of exposed breasts, I guess I’m part of the problem.

But at least I’m not part of this problem:

It’s not exactly attention deficit. Linda Stone, a software executive who worked for Apple Inc. and Microsoft Corp., calls it “continuous partial attention.” It stems from an intense desire to connect and be connected all of the time, or, in her words, to be “a live node on the network.”

Etiquette has suffered in the process. “Face-to-face meetings have become a low priority because they’re constantly being interrupted by technology, and many people can’t figure out what to do,” said Sue Fox, author of “Business Etiquette for Dummies.” “What’s more important — the gadget or the person, or people, you’re with?”

I’ve said before that we live in the Age of Distraction. Having an interactive source of constant distraction in your pocket makes it official.

Dane Cook likes to call it a relationshit. (That must be why he’s so “edgy”.)

Me, I think a better description of a relationship gone sour is… a relationshipwreck.

True, it takes the effort of mouthing an extra syllable, but I think it’s worth it to get the point across.

Amid much bitching about how its competition is undercutting it, Hawaii-based Aloha Airlines filed for bankruptcy yesterday, the second time it’s done so in the past couple of years.

This development compels me to invoke the signature catchphrase (usually used to signify an out-of-the-park homerun highlight) of former ESPN anchor and Hawaiian sports media alum Larry Beil:

“And aloha means goodbye!”

Not that every on-air wonk from here to CNBC won’t be repeating that same phrase today…

I realize that the term “killer app” has long since strayed from its computer-tech origins as a shorthand for “killer application”, i.e. a gotta-have-it program that ignites usage by a wide audience.

Still, I don’t think I ever before ran across the use of “killer apps” as a descriptor for bar food. But that’s what Applebee’s is calling its new menu of “Ultimate Trios” appetizers in TV commercials.

I don’t have an specific linkable proof of this usage, but I did find this semi-drunken Twitter citation. It’ll have to do as far as corroborating my recollection.

Killer apps, in the form of chicken wings and mini-burgers. Has geek-chic jargon come so far that it’s now effective in mass-market food advertising? Regardless, unique as it is, it’s not the first time the concept of killer appetizers occurred.

A recent news item out of Washington brought this conjured-up word to my attention: “Prebuttal”.

A rebuttal, inserted into an argument, that refutes an anticipated counter-argument; a rebuttal given in advance of another’s argument.

In other words, a preemptive way to scuttle a rebuttal. Like it. I can see it having wide application beyond the political realm.

Even though it’s not by-the-numbers official just yet — only one more quarter of “negative growth” to go! — it’s pretty clear that we’re in a recession, and people are feeling the pain.

To gauge the difference between this economic slowdown and a full-fledged collapse, our 33rd President provided this aphoristic rule of thumb:

“It’s a recession when your neighbor loses his job; it’s a depression when you lose yours.” - Harry S Truman, in Observer, April 13, 1958

Which works so well because it combines severity (implying more people getting hit) with relatability (it’s less abstract when you’re getting hit personally). There’s an added undercurrent of mental anxiety, hearkening the mental definition of “depression”.

So obviously, keep your fingers crossed that you’ll merely observe a recession during 2008, instead of experiencing a depression.

Somehow, I’ve gone this long before encountering this bit of corporate-speak:

bio break - n., a short halt to a business meeting for the purpose of giving attendees a chance to use the restroom.

I was given this as the reason for a late start to a recent client conference call, and had to ask for clarification. It verged on too much information, which I guess is why it was conjured up in the first place.

Grant Barrett, of Double-Tongued Dictionary and “A Way with Words” fame, favors New York Times readers with the contenders for 2007’s “Word of the Year” crown.

Barrett disclaims this list as being merely partial, and indeed, it’s something of a mixed bag: It includes phrases that aren’t particularly resonating, but instead found their way into the newsstream more than expected. For instance, I don’t see anything noteworthy about “forever stamp”.

I’m not going to dissect the entrants on this list on merit, or lack thereof (although I’m tempted, based on the surprising reaction I got when I dissed the fraud selection of “plutoed” as a WOTY). But I’m going to cherry-pick ones that found their way onto this blog:

1. Astronaut Diaper - A key element in that bizarre NASA love triangle from February. I didn’t focus on the undergarment, but without i, I doubt I would have written about the subsequent movie proposal, which itself took a turn for the weird.

2. Bacn - Non-critical email that you want to receive, but comes across as borderline spam. I found the pig-theming to be most amusing.

3. Crowdsource - A play on “outsourcing”, where you turn to input and efforts from Web-aggregated minds to accomplish a task. I used it to headline the efforts of British fans to pool money for buying a pro soccer team; additionally, this grew out of the “wisdom of crowds” concept that’s been kicked around for a couple of years now.

4. E-mail Bankruptcy - The act of deleting your entire inbox, including read and unread messages, in an attempt to get back to a manageable zero-base for email. Yup, it caught my eye, although more for what it didn’t address (spam) than what it did. Actually, this ties directly back to the afore-mentioned bacn, and the only reason I didn’t cite that was because this bankruptcy concept made the news before bacn did.

5. Exploding ARM - An adjustable rate mortgage with rates that soon rise beyond a borrower’s ability to pay. I missed out on this exact phraseology, but did bite on the alternative, “ARM-ageddon”.

6. -hawk - Catchall for a range of mohawk-ish hairstyles: Sanjaya’s fucked-up ponyhawk, the mohawk/afro hybrid that is the brohawk, and the fauxhawk, which I gave space to.

7. LOLcat - Fun with cat photos on the InterWeb. This one warranted not one, but two posts by yours truly.

8. Make It Rain - With dollar bills serving as raindrops. If it involves strip clubs, you just know I’m going to put a timestamp on it.

9. NINJA Loan - An acroynm for “No Income, No Job or Assets”, for the kind of volume-padding loan that precipitated the now-unfolding housing mess. I noted that it also dovetailed with the “silent but deadly” quality of your average ninja warrior.

“Ambush”, the latest release from Rampage, has been on my iPod for a few months now. I got it as the Free Single of the Week off iTunes, and liked it enough to listen to it, but haven’t kept it in my go-to rotation.

But for some reason, my iPod’s shuffle setting has ticked up “Ambush” on a regular basis over this past week. That being the case — and the fact that I like the track’s groove enough to not fast-forward to the next random selection — I’ve noticed one set of lyrics that stands out for me:

Brooknam is just where I’m from

“Brooknam” being, of course, a designation for the rough parts of Brooklyn, combining “Brooklyn” and “Vietnam”. It signifies Rampage’s street cred effectively enough.

The use of “Nam” as a recognizable shorthand for a warzone, to be subsequently applied to any rough-and-tumble American neighborhood, speaks to the social resonance that the Vietnam War still has decades after the war ended. The source above traces “Brooknam” as coming into existence only ten years ago, so it suggests a good degree of currency.

Hearing this lyric brought to mind an even older example of this same New York-Vietnam amalgamation, albeit a wholly-fictional one. The groundbreaking mid-1980s graphic novel “Watchmen” includes a very brief (and somewhat cryptic) reference to “Viet Bronx”. The same idea can be inferred: A warzone in the run-down south Bronx, where gang warfare is still an unfortunate fact of life. (This may or may not materialize in the upcoming “Watchmen” major motion picture.)

Not sure any other boroughs/neighborhoods combine well with either Vietnamese syllable. “Staten Nam”? “Viet Harlem”? The applications may have run their course with the nicknames used in the title of this post.

Anyone else disappointed that Denzel Washington’s latest feel-good overachiever opus, The Great Debaters, wasn’t instead entitled The Master Debaters?

Because, assuming that this umpteenth rendition of the underdog story isn’t bringing anything particularly new to the subgenre, it could at least contribute an undercurrent of humor. Not to mention a much-needed boost to the master debating movement.

First there was Black Friday, signifying the start of concentrated consumerism to start the year-ending holiday season.

With the birth of ecommerce came Cyber Monday, which despite its dubious pedigree has now become more or less bona fide as a Web shopping event.

Lately, enough retailers have been jumping the sales-rush gun on Thanksgiving Day itself to give birth to a nascent Gray Thursday phenomenon.

You’d think those mile-markers would suffice for the retail world. But for good measure, the second Monday in December is being christened with a color:

In fact, the second week of December is traditionally so big that the folks at e-commerce giant eBay have come up with their own moniker for the weekday that kicks it off: “Green Monday” (a reference to cash, rather than eco-friendly shopping). Company employees coined the term this month after realizing that, for the past three years, the strongest sales day for Shopping.com and other eBay sites was the second Monday of December. “It isn’t Black Friday and it isn’t Cyber Monday,” says eBay spokesperson Wendy Sept. “Green Monday is the day that people actually go online and buy.”

So what’s next? A “Blue Monday”, in honor of New Order’s techno-tastic 12-inch anthem? Joy (Division) to the world, shoppers!

Unlike Cyber Monday’s ascent from pure hype to actuality, I don’t see Green Monday catching on as a trigger day for online shoppers. There’s no real pivot day there to build from: Thanksgiving is a day/weekend off for most people, so the piggybacking of Black Friday and Cyber Monday there isn’t a stretch. But the middle of December? Even with the impending approach of Christmas, there’s nothing there to provide traction.

That doesn’t mean Green Monday isn’t valid, to a point. It’s supposed to signal the most intensive online shopping week of the holiday season, when people can count on reasonable shipping rates to deliver their gifts on time. That likely will be the case. It just won’t serve as a call to action for e-retailers, because without another event day to moor it, it won’t break through the existing marketing clutter to resonate with shoppers. It’ll remain a reactive measurement tool, and not morph into a proactive promotional one.

I’ll take this opportunity to shill slightly by recommending the Chase Paymentech Pulse Index for tracking online retail sales for Green Monday (actual numbers won’t be posted until mid-day Tuesday, after they’ve been compiled). I’m working on the analysis and promotion of that Index this ho-ho-holiday season, so I’m being a bit self-serving; on the other hand, I can vouch for it as a reliable business-tool benchmark.

Can you do the whole superhero thing without a clearly-defined mission statement?

I guess you could, but it just wouldn’t be the same:

More than a catchphrase, the mission statement can be expressed as exposition (Space … the final frontier), marketing (Faster than a speeding bullet!), or a mantra (With great power comes great responsibility). It quickens the pulses of those in the know, preparing them for the action sure to follow.

Sure, they come off as a bit stodgy these days. But that’s part of their old-school nostalgic charm:

Still, it comes back to ritual, more than it does exposition. Those invocational phrases are a secret handshake between creator and fan. Their use not only bridges the gaps between iterations, they also assure fans that the core of the work, as expressed in its mission statement, has been honored. Moreover, a properly executed mission statement takes us back to the first time it ignited our imaginations, and since imagination is their subjects’ stock in trade, it works out pretty well.

I dunno. To me, less is more. Knowing the masked crusader’s CV takes the edge off the whole mysterioso angle. I’m not reading a business plan here, ferchrissakes.