The word was “Spartan” as in Sparta, as opposed to “Athenian” as in Athens, both of which are two really really
crappy old cities from a really really crappy old civilization that contributed almost nothing to modern civilization except for a few moderately interesting concepts like democracy and republic. And Virtue v. Vice. And the original Olympics.
Let us begin.
The spartan accomodations of Missy’s cage provoked in her fantasies of doggie daycare.–A. Leland
Clearly, A. Leland has never visited Missy’s
cage box. It is anything but spartan. It has old bathroom rugs, blankets, towels, and a host of remnants of things she’s stolen from the kitchen table and torn to shreds. It is down right luxurious– some would say Athenian. As sentences go– and especially as A. Leland sentences go– it’s a fine sentence. But patently false. Missy would never be caught dead in something called “doggy daycare.”
His philosophy, like his verbal and written expression, was spartan— in both its austerity and its power.–Mr. Big Food
Now, see. That’s a fine sentence, too. His sentence suggests that there’s something missing in the Spartan approach.
“What’s ‘doggy daycare?’ Am I a ‘doggy’? Because if I am that’s the most condescending term I’ve ever heard. I’m a DOG for crying out loud. I don’t need to be cared for– day or night. I’m a Dog! I can take care of myself! What’s the meaning… .”
“Oh. For crying out loud. I’ll explain it to you in just a minute. Let me finish this post.”
“With Daughter C.”
“So. It’s just us tonight?”
“Can you open a window?”
“No. It’s cold outside.”
With some of the highest rates, by comparison, in the SEC, the MSU administrator salaries can hardly be called spartan.–Daughter C
Someone’s been doing some research.
And now to the two winners of the day– who independently came up with these two sentences.
Henry David Thoreau wished to live in a spartan manner with only the “gross necessities of life.”–Miss M
Thoreau may have dedicated his life to living “close to the bone,” but he was no spartan.–Marica