Michael Zeleny (larvatus) wrote,
Michael Zeleny

short shameful confession

I like my kike kayak.,,


The political slogan “I like Ike” [ay layk ayk], succinctly structured, consists of three monosyllables and counts three diphthongs [ay], each of them symmetrically followed by one consonantal phoneme, [..l..k..k]. The setup of the three words shows a variation: no consonantal phonemes in the first word, two around the diphthong in the second, and one final consonant in the third. Both cola of the trisyllabic formula “I like/Ike” rhyme with each other, and the second of the two rhyming words is fully included in the first one (echo rhyme), [layk]—[ayk], a paronomastic image of a feeling which totally envelops its object. Both cola alliterate with each other, and the first of the two alliterating words is included in the second: [ay]—[ayk], a paronomastic image of the loving subject enveloped by the beloved object. The secondary, poetic function of this electional catchphrase reinforces its impressiveness and efficacy.
—Roman Jakobson, “Metalanguage as a Linguistic Problem”, Presidential Address, Linguistic Society of America, 27 December 1956; reprinted in Selected Writings, Vol. VII, Contributions to Comparative Mythology: Studies in Linguistics and Philology, edited by Stephen Rudy, Mouton de Gruyter, 1982, p. 116

A horn blared way too loud. Crutch opened his eyes. Shit—there’s Phil’s pet shyster, Chick Weiss.
    With his kike-kayak Cadillac. With his frizzy-ass hairdo and his British fop suit. With his fucked-up Caribbean-art fixation.
    Weiss said, “I got a fruit gig for you. The guy likes to brown well-hung Filipinos, and I got a mutant packing 10½ inches. The wife wants a divorce, and who can blame her?”
    —James Ellroy, Blood’s a Rover‎, Random House, 2009, p. 26

The old man wiped his nose-picking finger on the wall. “I can tell conversation ain’t your strong suit. Doc Katz was catching, only a snootful of juice caught him. Now he’s catching a few winks in that kike kayak of his. How come the hebes all drive Cadillacs? You’re a detective, you got an answer for that?
—James Ellroy, The Big Nowhere‎, The Mysterious Press, 1988, p. 8

His U-Drive clunker was at the curb a half block south of Sunset. The haberdashery lot was packed with Jew canoes and guinea gunboats; one sentry was stationed by the front door shooing away customers; the man by the back door looked half asleep, sitting in a chair catching a full blast of late-morning sun.
—James Ellroy, The Big Nowhere‎, The Mysterious Press, 1988, p. 401

“I thought a Jew would want a Cadillac at least,” Sonny McDonough said. “A Jew canoe, that’s what they call a Cadillac, you know.”
    “Oh, that’s grand, Sonny”, Dan T. Campion said. “A Jew canoe.”
    “It’ll be a coon quarterback next,” Sonny McDonough said. “You mark my words. There’s eleven Protestants on the team already. I did a check.”
    —John Gregory Dunne, True Confessions, Da Capo Press, 2005 (first published 1977), p. 223

So strongly is the Jew identified with the merchant image that Negroes frequently use anti-Semitic epithets in referring to ghetto businessmen who are unmistakably not Jewish. A Negro will frequently refer to his “Jew landlord” even though the man’s name may be O’Reilly, Karwolski or Santangelo. In black areas of Detroit, white storekeepers are often called “Goldberg,” even though many shops are owned by Iraqis and Syrians. And a Cadillac, even if it is owned by a wealthy Negro, is still known as a “Jew canoe.”
The Black and the Jew: A Falling Out of Allies”, Time, 31 January 1969
Tags: cars, jews, language, love, poetry

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