Does the catfish amendment have racist roots?

Longtime readers will recall Dome's obsession with tracking down the origins of that peculiar North Carolina phrase.

Forgive us, but we were discussing the posts at a seminar on blogging in Richmond last week, and we had a long ride back.

One of the things we recalled was that the earliest references we could find to the catfish joke — "Don't worry, little catfish, I ain't gonna hurt you, I'm just gonna gut you!" — all centered on a young black child.

It struck us that there are two ways to interpret the joke: 1) The fisherman doesn't realize what he's saying, as in a "Cecil and Leonard" sketch, or 2) the fisherman is trying to trick the fish, as in a Tom Sawyer episode.

Not to get all third-rate W.J. Cash on you, but our theory is that the joke originally was racist, with the punchline depending on a stereotype that blacks are intellectually inferior.

By the time lawyers and politicians began using the joke as a rhetorical argument, the meaning had shifted, with the punchline now being that the fisherman was devious.

And since casting one's opponent in the courtroom or the legislature as the black child in the joke would not be, shall we say, genteel, the racial element dropped away and was eventually forgotten.

What does a member of Congress call an earmark?

Anything but an earmark, it seems.

U.S. representatives were required to post their earmark requests on their official Web sites by this weekend, but no standards were set for how they should be listed.

Of the 10 North Carolina Congressmen who requested earmarks, only one called them that on his site: Rep. G.K. Butterfield. He listed them under "Issue: Earmarks" on his home page.

A popular alternative was "Appropriations Requests." That wording was used by Reps. Larry Kissell, Mike McIntyre, Walter Jones, Bob Etheridge and Heath Shuler.

Rep. Howard Coble went simply for "Appropriations" as a header, while Rep. Mel Watt went for the more baroque "Fiscal Year 2010 Appropriations Bill Funding Requests."

Rep. Brad Miller preferred "Funding Requests."

The most confusing was Rep. David Price. He listed his earmarks for the last three years under "Local Projects," which then linked to "Fiscal Year 2010 Requests."

Catfish amendment: (noun) A seemingly friendly amendment designed to kill a bill by making it undesirable.

Chilipunked: (verb, past tense) To be left out of a news story, debate or other political event when one believes coverage is warranted, e.g. a Libertarian candidate.

Folks: (noun, plural) 1. A phrase used by North Carolina politicians to refer to almost any group of people. 2. Voters. 3. Fellow legislators. 4. One's political opponents. 5. The media. Example: "What folks in the press corps don't understand is that folks back home didn't send us folks up here to debate those folks on this issue." 

Seed corn: (noun) An item, such as spending in the budget, that could be eliminated or otherwise used foolishly now but would be better saved for the future.

Shampaign: (noun) A brief period in which potential candidates announce they are considering a run, garnering attention from the public and the media before saying they won't run after all.

Longtime Dome readers know how we love neologisms.

It struck us this morning that there is no good off-the-shelf word for the kind of non-campaign that Reps. Heath Shuler and Brad Miller have run.

The definition is simple: "A brief period in which potential candidates for higher office announce that they are considering a run, garnering a lot of attention from the public and the media before saying they won't run after all."

So, what should we call this? A non-campaign? A float race? A mirage campaign?

Submit your ideas to dome@newsobserver.com or post them in the comments below.

Update: That was quick. Reader Englewood suggests "sham-paigns." The word has been used online at least since 2007 with various meanings, but it neatly conveys the message and adds an air of cork-popping self-congratulation to boot. 

It is perhaps North Carolina's folksiest cliche: Don't eat your seed corn.

After its latest appearance in Gov. Beverly Perdue's State of the State speech tonight, Dome did a little research in state newspaper archives on the saying.

The cliche refers to the corn used for seeds for next year's crop — it might be tasty now, but you would starve tomorrow. It is generally used by state pols to refer to foolishly cutting a program that will be needed in the future.

A few recent examples:

* In February, Agriculture Commissioner Steve Troxler called agricultural research the "seed corn" of the industry.

* In January, community college president Scott Ralls used it while telling the story of a nursing instructor who quit teaching to go back to work.

* In November, Wachovia CEO Bob Steel told Perdue at a public forum that education is the "seed corn for everything that's needed for the future."

Among other things, basic research funding has been called the seed corn for future technology; recruits in Iraq and Afghanistan, the future military; open space, future tourism; principal in the escheats fund, future scholarship money; freshmen footballers, future ACC eligible players; fish harvested before reproducing, future food supply; copyright law, future artistic endeavors; and Central Piedmont Community College, the future labor force.

Still, education and agriculture seem to be the most popular references.

In fact, Gov. Mike Easley used the same line in his 2007 State of the State speech.

"Progress is not always about planting new crops, it is often about tending the current harvest and increasing the yield," he said. "Now, having said that, I did bring a little seed corn with me tonight, just in case."

"Chilipunked" has made it to Montana.

In his Watch Yer Language blog, Billings Gazette copy desk chief Craig Lancaster notes that he's run across the word on Under the Dome, via UNC-Chapel Hill professor Andy Bechtel's copy editor blog.

While I’m certainly not prepared to give chilipunked a free ride into print, it is an entertaining little word, one that I’d happily drop into a casual conversation with friends. A similar but more instantly decipherable word is weaksauce, one I use too often (but never, never, never in formal writing).

A few more references, and the word will be well-prepped for the 2050 edition of the O.E.D.

Carl Mumpower has shared his definition of "envirojacker."

In an e-mail to Dome, the Asheville City Councilman and Republican Congressional candidate gives this explanation for the term, which he apparently coined in a recent press release:

Homo sapiens prone to selective use of facts, extreme views, and unsupported science related to environmental issues. This species is highly resistant to rational, realistic, and scientifically grounded environmental initiative and may, when challenged or denied, behave in an aggressive and destructive manner. There have been reports of associated tendencies toward manipulation and entitlement. 

Previously: Mountain Xpress proposes an alternative definition. 

An Asheville weekly confirms that "envirojacker" is a new word.

After noting that Asheville City Councilman and Republican Congressional candidate Carl Mumpower had used the word in a recent press release, we at Dome wondered if it was perhaps mountain slang that we'd not heard down here in Raleigh.

But a writer for the Mountain Xpress says she's never heard of it either. In addition, the alt-weekly suggests the word could be turned on its head:

Then again, the phrase "envirojacker," which combines "environment" and "jack," could have potential as a slang term among environmentalists. As in, those "envirojackers" have totally jacked the landscape with their coal mine, and they've done jack to clean up the pollution. 

That's the trouble with neologisms. They don't always end up meaning what you wanted them to mean.