Readers of this blog know I like new words. I like portmanteau words, new derivations, and brilliant coinages that fill a hole aching for a label. My favorite example of the last category is granfalloon, a word invented by Kurt Vonnegut. It appears in the novel Cat’s Cradle as part of a lexicon created by Bokonon, a cult figure with a boundless contempt for humanity.
Bokonon defines granfalloon as a “false karass“—translation, a fake group. A fuller definition would be “a group of people who affect a shared identity or purpose but whose true commonality is, in fact, practically nil.” For example, Floridians, the Phi Beta Kappa Society, and the 49er Faithful are granfalloons. (All sports fans belong to granfalloons.) The Boy Scouts of America, the AARP, the VFW, and all professional associations are granfalloons.
This quote by Bokonon says it all: If you wish to examine a granfalloon, just remove the skin of a toy balloon. Inside a balloon, there is, of course, nothing but air. No doubt Vonnegut was thinking “balloon” when granfalloon popped into his head.
The concept is much more than merely humorous. To grasp it is to see that, to a large extent, our connections with one another are airy nothings. If so, then why do these connections exist at all? Because they simply have to. To be human is to want to connect, even if the connection is less than tenuous.
At this juncture, I want to introduce the Marks Principle, an extension to Bokonanism. It’s very simplistic: The larger the group, the more likely it’s a granfalloon. And, of course, the opposite is also true. In practical terms, what does it mean? Well, quite a bit. It means that all the nations on Earth are granfalloons. All the major religions—but not necessarily their sects or branches—are granfalloons. All large corporations are granfalloons, especially multinationals.
As size recedes, we enter a gray area. Surely the Democratic Party is a granfalloon, but the Republican Party, because of shared neuroses, is on the border line. Small splinter parties are generally not granfalloons.
On a smaller level, you have tribes and families. These are usually genuine groups, but throughout the last century they have come under pressure. Because of increased mobility and a think-for-yourself ethic, geographic and ideological cohesion have been breaking down. One can sit down at a Thanksgiving dinner and discover within minutes that one belongs to a granfalloon.
That leaves us with friendship. (Not Facebook friendship, which is a catalyst for granfalloons.) I’m thinking of friendship that springs from deeply held values, a mutual affinity, and a shared model of reality. There are no fences between friends—not national, religious, political, or tribal. It’s the most genuine connection we can find.
The Scratching Post 