"Miscegenation": the political implications of misplaced stress

Every newscaster or commentator that I've heard recently using the word "miscegenation" on the radio or television has placed the primary stress on the fourth syllable and the secondary stress on the second: "misCEgeNAtion". Even Terry Gross, that goddess of wisdom, truth, good humor and enlightenment says it that way. But this pronunciation implies that there's something wrong with miscegenation: Whatever cegenation is, mis-cegenation must be some sort of bad behavior. If you want to make the case that there's nothing wrong with persons of different races having children together, as most reasonable people would agree, then you're digging yourself a hole right at the beginning of your argument by making the word sound like a negative.

Instead, we need to pronounce the word in such a way that suggests its true meaning. "Miscegenation" just means the mixing of races (genuses if you prefer), and the secondary stress belongs on the first syllable: “MIScegeNAtion”. Rather than the pejorative "mis", this pronunciation naturally brings out the Latin root "misce", from "miscere", to mix, as in miscellaneous or miscible.

By the way, the 1957 dictionary here in my office gives only the "misce-" pronunciation. That anyone would pronounce it the other way is a sorry comment on the state of American education.

If you say "Barack Obama is a product of misCEgeNAtion", you’re setting yourself a hurdle to get over: "Barack Obama is a product of miscegenation, but I’m going to vote for him anyway". Why would you do that? Say instead: “Barack Obama is a product of MIScegeNAtion. Cool! This is the 21^st century. Of course I'm going to vote for him."

A peeve

"Back in the day." Give me a break. One particular day? If some ideal nostalgic conditions prevailed for just one day, why would you bother mentioning it? Besides, where do you get off claiming some sort of primacy for your past experience (as THE day) without any sort of explanation or modifier?

If you say "Back in the days when ... [I had hair; spelling mattered; you could lock your car without honking the horn]", then I'll listen to you.

Thank you.

Palindromes

I love palindromes. Doesn't everyone? I've seen a couple of good books that contain a palindrome on each page illustrated with a cartoon: Madam I'm Adam by William Irvine and So Many Dynamos! by Jon Agee. You can have a pretty silly palindrome that, with the addition of a cartoon, becomes something special.

Example: I think it's So Many Dynamos that has a cartoon of a street scene in Mexico or somewhere, with two mobs of guys in sombreros and serapes throwing fruit at each other. An unsuspecting gringo tourist is sauntering out of his hotel into the street, whereupon a solicitous native breaks away from one of the gangs to divert him, saying "No sir, away! A papaya war is on!"

There's another book of palindromes, From A to Zotamorf by Stephen J. Chism. No cartoons, but it has some extraordinarily long palindromes that (IIRC) were composed with the aid of computers. Impressive, but to my way of thinking that's on the verge of cheating.

I've made up a bunch of palindromes myself. I don't want to give 'em all away without looking into copyright (I might want to publish one of those cartoon books myself someday), but I'll share one.

To set the scene: A military hospital in Argentina, circa 1950. The beloved yet controversial first lady Eva Peron has just been admitted. Because of her ongoing health problems, some of the hospital staff are permanently assigned to her care. Here's a telephone conversation between two army doctors:

"Evita desk."
"Sir, Evita ill! Apt palliative?"
"Risk sedative."

... Yeah, I know it's not that great. You expect me to share all my good ones?