“The Quick Brown Fox …”

A pangram is a sentence that contains every letter of the alphabet:

  • John P. Brady, give me a black walnut box of quite a small size. (48 letters)
  • Quixotic knights’ wives are found on jumpy old zebras. (44)
  • By Jove, my quick study of lexicography won a prize. (41)
  • Sympathizing would fix Quaker objectives. (36)
  • Jackdaws love my big sphinx of quartz. (31)
  • Foxy nymphs grab quick-jived waltz. (29)
  • Brick quiz whangs jumpy veldt fox. (27)

The 26-letter ones are nearly incomprehensible:

  • Nth black fjords vex Qum gyp wiz.

Or “An esteemed Iranian shyster was provoked when he himself was cheated: an alleged seaside ski resort he purchased proved instead to be a glacier of countless oil-abundant fjords.”

Able Was I …

A man, a plan, a caret, a ban, a myriad, a sum, a lac, a liar, a hoop, a pint, a catalpa, a gas, an oil, a bird, a yell, a vat, a caw, a pax, a wag, a tax, a nay, a ram, a cap, a yam, a gay, a tsar, a wall, a car, a luger, a ward, a bin, a woman, a vassal, a wolf, a tuna, a nit, a pall, a fret, a watt, a bay, a daub, a tan, a cab, a datum, a gall, a hat, a fag, a zap, a say, a jaw, a lay, a wet, a gallop, a tug, a trot, a trap, a tram, a torr, a caper, a top, a tonk, a toll, a ball, a fair, a sax, a minim, a tenor, a bass, a passer, a capital, a rut, an amen, a ted, a cabal, a tang, a sun, an ass, a maw, a sag, a jam, a dam, a sub, a salt, an axon, a sail, an ad, a wadi, a radian, a room, a rood, a rip, a tad, a pariah, a revel, a reel, a reed, a pool, a plug, a pin, a peek, a parabola, a dog, a pat, a cud, a nu, a fan, a pal, a rum, a nod, an eta, a lag, an eel, a batik, a mug, a mot, a nap, a maxim, a mood, a leek, a grub, a gob, a gel, a drab, a citadel, a total, a cedar, a tap, a gag, a rat, a manor, a bar, a gal, a cola, a pap, a yaw, a tab, a raj, a gab, a nag, a pagan, a bag, a jar, a bat, a way, a papa, a local, a gar, a baron, a mat, a rag, a gap, a tar, a decal, a tot, a led, a tic, a bard, a leg, a bog, a burg, a keel, a doom, a mix, a map, an atom, a gum, a kit, a baleen, a gala, a ten, a don, a mural, a pan, a faun, a ducat, a pagoda, a lob, a rap, a keep, a nip, a gulp, a loop, a deer, a leer, a lever, a hair, a pad, a tapir, a door, a moor, an aid, a raid, a wad, an alias, an ox, an atlas, a bus, a madam, a jag, a saw, a mass, an anus, a gnat, a lab, a cadet, an em, a natural, a tip, a caress, a pass, a baronet, a minimax, a sari, a fall, a ballot, a knot, a pot, a rep, a carrot, a mart, a part, a tort, a gut, a poll, a gateway, a law, a jay, a sap, a zag, a fat, a hall, a gamut, a dab, a can, a tabu, a day, a batt, a waterfall, a patina, a nut, a flow, a lass, a van, a mow, a nib, a draw, a regular, a call, a war, a stay, a gam, a yap, a cam, a ray, an ax, a tag, a wax, a paw, a cat, a valley, a drib, a lion, a saga, a plat, a catnip, a pooh, a rail, a calamus, a dairyman, a bater, a canal — Panama!

— A 544-word palindrome composed in 1984 by Dan Hoey (with computer assistance)

Equivoque

An equivoque is a poem that can be read in two different ways. This one appeared in The Weekly Pacquet of Advice from Rome in 1679. Protestants were to read each line straight across, Catholics down each column:

The Jesuit’s Double-Faced Creed

I hold for sound faith What England’s church allows
What Rome’s faith saith My conscience disavows
Where the king’s head The flock can take no shame
The flock’s misled Who hold the Pope supreme
Where th’altar’s dress’d The worship’s scarce divine
The people’s bless’d Whose table’s bread and wine
He’s but an ass Who their communion flies
Who shuns the Mass Is Catholic and wise.

“Come Into the Arms of the Shoving Leopard”

The Rev. William Archibald Spooner (1844-1930) was famously reputed to swap consonants in his speech (“The weight of rages will press hard upon the employer”).

His legend has grown so popular that today it’s hard to known which “spoonerisms” really happened. For instance, Spooner might really have asked, “Is the bean dizzy?”, but he almost certainly never said, “You have hissed all my mystery lectures and were caught fighting a liar in the quad. Having tasted two worms, you will leave by the next town drain.”

But we can be fairly certain that when he proposed a toast to “The Boar’s Head” (a pub), it was not a spoonerism.

He was a priest, after all.

Just Teller

Teller, of the magician duo Penn and Teller, has no first or middle name. His parents named him Raymond Joseph Teller, but he had the given names legally removed. On government documents his first name is listed as NFN, meaning “no first name.”

“It Means Just What I Choose It to Mean”

http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Humpty_Dumpty_Tenniel.jpg

Do you recognize this passage?

Homme petit d’homme petit, s’attend, n’avale
Homme petit d’homme petit, à degrés de bègues folles
Anal deux qui noeuds ours, anal deux qui noeuds s’y mènent
Coup d’un poux tome petit tout guetteur à gaine

No? Try reading it aloud.

Cognitive scientists use it to illustrate the complexity of human communications.

More Anagrams

More anagrams:

  • ANGERED = ENRAGED
  • CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE = ACTUAL CRIME ISN’T EVINCED
  • DISAPPOINTMENT = MADE IN PINT POTS
  • ENDEARMENTS = TENDER NAMES
  • MARRIAGE = A GRIM ERA
  • MEDICAL CONSULTATIONS = NOTED MISCALCULATIONS
  • PUNISHMENT = NINE THUMPS
  • ROME WAS NOT BUILT IN A DAY = ANY LABOUR I DO WANTS TIME
  • SAINT ELMO’S FIRE = IS LIT FOR SEAMEN
  • SAUCINESS = CAUSES SIN
  • SOFT-HEARTEDNESS = OFTEN SHEDS TEARS
  • A STITCH IN TIME SAVES NINE = THIS IS MEANT AS INCENTIVE
  • WESTERN UNION = NO WIRE UNSENT

Louis XIII appointed a Provencal to be his royal anagrammatist. He was paid 1,200 livres a year.