The mere “fact” that both of them are there to discuss the matter shows that the response in panel 1 is, in context, off the mark.
(And anyway – it only applies to guys called Pauli. I hate to get nitpicking with a cartoon, but there are principles at stake here.)
All I can say is that that’s a tortuous use of the word; I’ve never met it; it doesn’t match any entry in any dictionary that I own; and it feels like a rather recent academic or business coinage. But I defer to you to the extent that it is clearly in use in some circles, at least.
Nash is trash…
…But Joyce is woyce.
(Kudos, by the way – my personal favourite poet.)
“Eponymous” is where a thing takes its name from a person. Unless the device in question was invented by, e.g., Marcus J. Phonemate, I suspect you meant “synonymous”
The words are The Rum Tum Tugger, from the collection of poems, Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats, by T.S. Eliot, from 1939.
They were used as the lyrics to Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musical, Cats, and that seems the most likely case here.
However, there have been multiple adaptions of some, at least, of the poems to music, and the audio on my copy of the cartoon is apparently broken – so I can’t confirm which version, if any, is being sung here.
Hmm. “Necessarily” being the operative word in that sentence, I suspect.
It’s clearly performance art. Maybe they can get a grant for it?
“Here’s my script for panel 3, Fang. Prompt me.”
“Don’t worry, Eno. I have it committed to memory.”
“Sorry. I forgot what you were going to say.”
Alternately, you could say (as was my personal reaction when I read her first book – and I’m of your generation, judging by your user name) that she took old fiction tropes from all over the place – especially the boarding school stories of the early to mid 20th century – and mashed them together with a generous sprinkling of stock two-dimensional and over-the-top characters, deus ex machina plot devices and the plain painfully-contrived (I’m looking at you, Golden Snitch) for an audience too young to have met any of them. And, no, that wasn’t all – she added some inventive stuff as well, and I wasn’t in the least surprised that it was so popular. But her foundations felt firmly derivative.
(I don’t plan to defend the accuracy or otherwise of those statements – I just state, honestly and without an iota of exageration, that it was my reaction. To which I can add that I could likely have forgiven it all if I’d actually enjoyed her writing style – but I didn’t. I gave up on the series halfway through book two. Different strokes, and all that. Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series, now – that’s a very different story.)