You have to wonder if people in Congress are incongruous

Mark Twain wrote, “Suppose you were an idiot. And suppose you were a member of
Congress. But I repeat myself.”

As the midterm elections approach, I offer other smears that have been directed at Congress:

  • What’s the difference between a centaur and a senator? One is half man and half horse’s ass—and the other is a creature in mythology.
  • What’s the difference between death and taxes? Congress keeps making taxes worse.
  • If pro and con are opposites, is congress the opposite of progress?
  • Why are all the circuses closed? Because all the clowns are in congress.
  • What should we do about people who receive government handouts but refuse to work? Kick them out of congress.
  • A priest, a minister, and a rabbi walk into Congress. They turn to each other and ask, “Is this some kind of joke?”
  • Why are eggs so expensive? Because all the chickens are in congress.
  • Congress is full of horses. They all vote “Neigh” and make the economy unstable. As a result, they are unpopular in the Gallop Poll.
  • If Dorothy, from “The Wizard of Oz,” were alive today and encountered creatures with no brain, no heart, and no courage, where would she be? In congress.

 

DEAR RICHARD: I’m writing to ask what the correct multiple is for hummingbirds. We have a bumper crop this year, at least a dozen, and only three feeders. How should we refer to our flock?
-Jane Sorrells, Riverside

DEAR JANE: The most common collective nouns for hummingbirds are “a charm of hummingbirds” and “a glitter of hummingbirds.” Less common are “a shimmer” and “a hover.” Jane Sorrells’ inquiry inspires me to share a menagerie of collective nouns for creatures great and small:

You know that a bunch of sheep crowded together is a flock, a group of antelope loping together a herd, a cluster of fish swimming together a school, and a crowd of bees buzzing together a swarm. But have you ever heard of a clowder of cats, a kindle of kittens, a gam of whales, or a knot of frogs?

Most of these collective nouns evolved during the Middle Ages, when the sophisticated art of hunting demanded an equally sophisticated vocabulary to name the objects of the chase. Ever since God commanded Adam to name all the creatures that run and fly and swim and crawl and burrow above, on, and under the earth, we humans have been relentless in gathering those beasts and birds into clusters.

Let’s begin with group nouns for 30 different animals:
a bale of turtles, a barren of mules, a bloat of hippos, a business of ferrets, a caravan of camels a cete of badgers, a coalition of cheetahs, a covert of coots, a cowardice of curs, a crash of rhinoceroses, a dazzle of zebras, a dray of squirrels, a labor of moles, a leap of leopards, a memory of elephants, a mischief of mice (or rats), an obstinacy of buffalo, a pace of asses, a pod of seals, a pride of lions. a route of wolves, a shrewdness of apes, a singular of boars, a skulk of foxes, a sleuth of bears, a sounder of swine, a tower of giraffes, a trip of goats, a troop of monkeys, a warren of rabbits.

Now take flight 30 avian assemblages, a groupie list that’s truly for the birds:
a cast of hawks, a charm of finches, a congregation of plovers, a convocation of eagles, a covey of quail
a descent of woodpeckers, an exaltation of larks, a flush of mallards, a gaggle of geese, a huddle of penguins, a murder of crows, a murmuration of starlings, a muster of storks, a nye of pheasants, an
ostentation of peacocks, a paddling of ducks, a pandemonium of parrots, a parliament of owls, a piteousness of doves, a plump of wildfowl, a rafter of turkeys, a scold of jays, a siege of herons, a stand of flamingoes, a tidings of magpies, a ubiquity of sparrows, an unkindness of ravens, a wake of buzzards, a watch of nightingales, a wedge of swans (when flying in a V formation).

For fun, you can make up your own collective nouns for people, animals, and fantastic creatures—a rash of dermatologists, a brace of orthodontists, an Enterprise of Trekkies, a hoard of misers, a *** of censors, a gaggle of sword swallowers (get the pun?), a prickle of porcupines, a constellation of starfish, a plume of dragons, a utopia of unicorns.