Monday, 28 October 2013

Brimborion - A Brimful of Trash ... uh ...

Brimborion, Brimborium


Noun. Also -rium. Mid-17th century.
[French, earlier breborion, alteration of medieval Latin breviarium BREVIARY.]

A thing without use or value; trash, nonsense.

I'd like to solve a world problem; one day I think I will. A bit like the Japanese guy who thought: "D'ya know what? People are sick and tired of eating warm watermelons." And he's right - it's just such an uncooperative fruit: too big to fit in the fridge, and not as tasty when pre-chopped. And he fixed it! The world now has the Portable Watermelon Cooler. Not only does it allow you to have delectably chilled watermelon, it allows you to have it on the go. One wonders how we ever survived without it, and retailing at just under $300.00, it's an absolute steal.

Which (kind of) reminds me - recently I've been thinking about my soul and my prospects of eternal life. Now, I don't believe I'm going to heaven, but how do I know? How do I really know? By dogmatically believing I'm not, I might be cheating myself out of eternal bliss so perhaps, y'know, I should hedge my bets. Therefore, I've been thinking about reserving a place in heaven with a company that sells "Essential Heaven Travel Kits". Now, don't laugh - I know it sounds silly, but I've been looking into it and it all seems pretty legit. You get a certificate, an ID card and a heaven information pack. And the best thing is, there's a 100% money back guarantee if you get to heaven and your reservation isn't accepted. Seems to me I'd be a fool not to be buy it (although I have heard of some companies selling reservations for places in Hell - don't be an idiot and buy one of those, as everyone knows they're handed out for free ... tsk! ... do they think we're idiots?).

Anyway, my apologies for the random digressions. Today's word is brimborion, or sometimes brimborium, which means something that's, well, utter rubbish. It originally comes from the Latin for breviary, which is a religious book containing the service for that day. Therefore, although brimborion can refer to any rubbish or nonsense, it was often used in the sense of referring to religious rubbish (and we all know that religion is pretty good at churning out worthless tat). Anyway, I'm struggling to focus on anything lexicographical today, as I really, really want ... no ... need a portable watermelon cooler. If I bought one, do you think it'd be portable enough to take to heaven with me when I go? Of course - you're right. I should probably address that question directly to the reservations department. Right ... tally ho.

Brimborion, Brimborium

Are you as sick of tepid watermelon as I am?

Have you reserved your place in heaven?

If not, why not? 100% money back guarantee, you fool!

Seeing as I didn't provide any examples, do you know of any brimborions?

Please leave your most useless comments below. 


  1. You'd have to eat a good amount of watermelon to justify buying that little beastie!

    My hubby was given this electric plane launcher as a gag present. It's utterly brimborionous!

    Stupid plane launcher.

    There, I've done my useless deed for the day!

    1. Is that ... a *paper* plane launcher? When I first read your comment, the boy in me thought: "Plane launcher! Kewl!" But when I saw the picture ... for *paper* planes?? That kind of takes the fun out, doesn't it? Maybe there is a market for the avionically gifted but weak-wristed paper plane enthusiasts out there, but otherwise, yes, it does seem to be something of a brimborion.

  2. Is it true that Norton sold millions of anti virus packages both for Pc and AppleMac and yet at the time there weren't ANY viruses developed for AppleMacs?
    I can't figure out if that's a brimborion or absolute marketing genius.

    1. I've no idea - I've never heard that one. Although, Apple enthusiasts are so wont to crow that "You never get viruses on an Apple!" (even after it became patently clear that you can), I can't see them falling for it. And if Norton did sell their product on that basis, that's definitely genius in my book.

  3. Some people are just so stupid. A watermelon cooler!

    Ed do you ever, like me, look down on humanity from this privileged, enlightened height, and wonder to yourself how many of the average person you are worth? I use my kitchen fridge for watermelon-coolage as, I'm fairly confident, do you.

    Just a small question though, one deity to another, how do you cool your watermelons on picnics after a long journey?

    Now that we've inadvertently crept into this intellectual crypt of higher questioning, do you ever find that your soccer ball is just ever-so slightly too warm?

    And do you regularly find that you just can't cool down your head?, is there a catalogue or a web address, just out of interest?

    -clueless, from his higher plane of being, across to ed sitting on his parallel cloud of superior cleverness, looking down on a sea of minions with their unpleasantly warm watermelons and sweaty heads.

    1. You have in fact named some of the exact problems that I've experienced:

      1) Footballs: No, I've never had a problem with one being too warm, but I've definitely had the problem of my balls being too cold. As goalkeeper is my preferred position, I'm well accustomed to marble-solid balls being belted at me in the middle of winter, and when it comes to such a ball slapping against either my inner thigh, cheek or back, I'm positively wimpish and am usually left blubbering like a baby. If you read the spec for the aforementioned (and praised) Portable Watermelon Cooler, it can heat the watermelon too. So, yes, that would indeed be a wonderful application. Well done you for thinking outside the box, or at least thinking outside the Portable Watermelon Cooler.

      2) Heads: No, I haven't had that problem with my head ... but ... recently I've had that problem with my young daughter, who at bedtime has been demanding a hot water bottle because her feet are cold *and* a fan because her head it hot. With a few adaptations, the PWC would be perfect for cooling down a molly-coddled child's head.

      3) Picnics: Well, this one I've never had a problem with. I use a cooler bag. And I don't tend to take a watermelon with me. And to be honest I don't tend to go on picnics. Maybe if I had the PWC I would.

      4) My Superior Plane: No, I don't sit on such a cloud, but I will, C, because I've reserved my place in heaven, and I've already starting pitching for sainthood by showing everyone else how they can (easily) get to heaven too. 100% money back! C'mon!