The Lexicographer's Rules

"The concept of security and money laundering would be the least of the consumerÕs worries given the un-hygienic conditions in which the cattle and sheep are slaughtered. It is these uncontrolled and un-monitored conditions and practices that create grounds for alarm. Unlike most legitimate slaughterhouses around the world, where the workers wear gloves, hair nets, and uniforms while skinning, slaughtering, and gutting the herds, the Lebanese slaughterhouse has no such standards. The site of bare hands reaching into the insides of cattle is stomach-churning. It is then those same hands that pick up a perfectly clean slaughtered carcass and lay it on the counter to be sold."

—Lebanon Daily Star. The Star breaks open a story of incredibly disgusting and unhealthy conditions in a Lebanese government slaughterhouse. "The slaughterhouse is just a large one-room hangar. No divisions, no temperature control, and no separate storage area for the carcasses that are ready to be sold. As wind and rain blow through the hangar, filthy hair and fur lie only a few meters away from the left-over organs put aside for disposal and the meat displayed for sale."'

"Apologies are ranked as to whether they should be made in person or on paper, with moderate or deep bows, or, for the most severe injury, the dogeza. In that, the apologizer gets down on both knees with head bowed to the floor, a gesture said to have been handed down from the time of samurai warriors, when an on-the-floor bow suggested subservienceÑand being disarmed."

—Christian Science Monitor. The American-style apologies for the sinking of a Japanese fishing boat (and the deaths of nine passengers) by a US submarine are not being well-received in Japan as a result of cultural barriers.

"Before lunch I had wandered upstairs to talk with the girls about their Dinka language. They were more than willing to teach me the lilting, gulping language. Soon, the cloud of awkwardness that had hung over the room dissipated. I watched how they pronounced the words, but it didn't help; my mistakes delighted them, especially the throaty sounds. Helen buried her face in a pillow, gushing with laughter. Rebecca couldn't stop giggling."

—Christian Science Monitor. Lane Hartill visits Sudanese children in an American foster home, three of 12,000 "Lost Boys," refugees from war and famine.'

"On the morning of Bolludagur, if kids manage to hustle out of bed before their parents, they get to beat mommy and daddy with a special bolluvšndur (bun wand) decorated with coloured paper and ribbons. And hereÕs the kicker, parents must reward children with a bun for every bang they receive of the wand."

—Daily News from Iceland. Bolludagur is "bun day," an Icelandic holiday held on the Monday of the seventh week before Easter.'

"We've got a really bad layer cake right now. When wind comes up, we're going to have a mess on the road. But we know what we're dealing with, and we have the gun, so we can deal with it. We can make the future slides smaller by removing a few slices of the onion now."

—Anchorage Daily News. Reid Bahnson is an avalanche control expert charged with keeping open Atigun Pass, a 4,800-foot-high 4.5-mile cut through the Brooks Range, about 330 road miles north of Fairbanks. The pass is the northernmost in Alaska, part of a 414-mile haul road that creeps beneath 2,000-foot mountain faces and 40 to 50 avalanche paths as it crosses the Continental Divide.'