Lucy Vickery

Competition: Modern maladies

In Competition No. 2712 you were invited to come up with your own additions to the ever-lengthening list of modern maladies.

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Chronic Acronym Disorder (CAD), aka Initial Abominable Meaning (IAM), is a common problem among individuals, and is characterised by the consistent inability to form a word sufficient for meaningful communication/textual intercourse. The orthographic pain can be chronic and 4EVER, coz it’s usually related to the inability to tnk clearly. BTW, certain acronym-friendly gizmos (with the i-prefix) tend to exacerbate the condition. Sometimes the symptoms  are provoked by religious fervour (OMG!). Anxiety caused by a stressful event such as a business presentation can aggravate the disorder. If diagnosed L8, it can result in severe SMS. FOI, CAD/IAM should be treated on a 121 basis and can be relieved by Occupational Enlarged Database (OED) treatment in an approved AFZ (Acronym Free Zone).
John O’Byrne

Anna S introduces herself thrice within ten minutes. No amnesiac, she suffers from reiterative format syndrome, one of several conditions brought about through excessive exposure to daytime television. That the condition is in its early stages can be deduced from the fact that there remains a smattering of content between Anna’s rigid yet breezy itinerary of teasers and recaps, albeit mostly concerning her recent viewings of unaffordable properties and the valuation of broken family heirlooms by camp antique experts. Left untreated, there may soon be no space between the formulaic tics for even these scant furnishings. While calmative measures can offer temporary relief (Anna’s partner has been supportive, jocosely ‘voicing over’ their intercourse for some months now), hopes of a complete cure rest with attention-span enhancers. Anna has exhibited adverse reactions to the patricianism of Sir Kenneth Clark’s Civilisation; Bronowski’s The Ascent of Man is her only hope.
Adrian Fry

Meldrew’s phobia: primarily an ailment of the over-60 male, this degenerative condition is symptomatised by chronic incredulity (often at quite commonplace events), hair-trigger irascibility, a degree of mental confusion (an increasing frequency of ‘senior moments’), a withering, sardonic conversational style and a significant diminution of social skills.  Though not dementia proper, its consequences for the afflicted and those in his family and social circle are comparable. They include severe public embarrassment at unpredictable moments. Popularly known as ‘bus-pass rage’, Meldrew’s phobia is thought to be age-related, often accompanying mobility problems, prostate difficulties and sexual impotence. Though not curable, it may be alleviated by sympathetic female attention or lying down in a darkened room.
Home treatment is recommended, as the strain on NHS resources posed by the exponential growth of this condition in an ageing population would be insupportable given current budgetary restraints.
G.M. Davis

This syndrome is experienced by literary agents unable to determine which shelf of Waterstone’s would be most appropriate for their latest prodigy. It is characterised by rising panic when contacting either the author or a publisher, and a tendency to speak in short, hyphenated phrases, such as sci-fo-fum, bio-graphology, bodice-strimmer, chick-latte, cyberpanky, pup-psych, vampy-pumpy, minor- bawdy-and-spurt, e-baagum or who-darnit (aka knit-lit). Some literary critics have also succumbed to the syndrome. The only cure currently available is a short course in literary theory. This has the curious effect of scrambling the brain so efficiently that the agent or critic is able once again to use words, now rare, such as romance or novel, or, in exceptionally successful treatments, book. In these cases, the agent is once again able to avoid using the words genius and advance, and critics can sometimes regain the capacity to use adjectives like good, bad or indifferent.
Bill Greenwell

Furor telephonicus frigidus (‘cold-call rage’) usually presents during a meal or a favourite television programme or when the patient is very busy. The trigger is a telephone call from someone unknown called Steve or Tracy, and the use of verbal irritants such as ‘how are you today’ or ‘courtesy call’ may bring on acute Tourette’s, lasting for some time after the landline has been torn from the wall or the mobile hurled down the lavatory. The sole cure is amputation of the telephone service. Closely related is Semper copulans Vivaldi (‘irritable Baroque syndrome’), when a number has been dialled, the patient is assured that their call is valuable and snippets of The Four Seasons played. Medical research has established that the human constitution can only take this up to seven times, after which furor again sets in, followed in extreme cases by loss of the will to live.
Brian Murdoch

Dietarily obsessive hypochondriasis (DOH). Leads to erratic changes in eating habits as a result of reading about research into hypothetically harmful or beneficial foods. One patient, for example, disastrously replaced all carbohydrates with goji berries. There has been some success with cognitive training to avoid articles featuring such words as ‘scare’ or ‘breakthrough’.
Fear of losing the oxygen of publicity (FLOP). This is found in people who have once enjoyed publicity. Best thought of as a form of psychological asthma, it is rarely fatal and can be alleviated with various inhalant ‘puffers’ — for instance, planted gossip column items, outrageous tweets or appearances on daytime television shows.
W.J. Webster

NO. 2715: in brief
You are invited to condense the plot of a well-known novel into a poem of 16 lines or fewer. Please email entries, if possible, to lucy@spectator.co.uk by midday on 21 September.

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