It's that time of year again...we kicked off Advent this last Sunday, and I hear rumors that LMH has had their XXX-mas bop already.
So to celebrate the season, here's some Sufjan. Collect all five discs!
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Monday, November 29, 2010
Fun with Text and Bellols
Poetry time...but poetry in itself is not enough, not when it comes to the manic Mr. Poe.
So we shall try it with Wordle!
...and how about Flipped!
sllǝq ǝɥʇ ɟo ƃuılʞuıʇ ǝɥʇ puɐ ƃuılƃuıɾ ǝɥʇ ɯoɹɟ
- sllǝq 'sllǝq 'sllǝq
'sllǝq 'sllǝq 'sllǝq 'sllǝq ǝɥʇ ɯoɹɟ
sllǝʍ ʎllɐɔısnɯ os ʇɐɥʇ uoıʇɐlnqɐuuıʇuıʇ ǝɥʇ oʇ
'ǝɯʎɥɹ ɔıunɹ ɟo ʇɹos ɐ uı
'ǝɯıʇ 'ǝɯıʇ 'ǝɯıʇ ƃuıdǝǝʞ
;ʇɥƃılǝp ǝuıllɐʇsʎɹɔ ɐ ɥʇıʍ
ǝlʞuıʍʇ oʇ ɯǝǝs suǝʌɐǝɥ ǝɥʇ llɐ
ǝlʞuıɹdsɹǝʌo ʇɐɥʇ sɹɐʇs ǝɥʇ ǝlıɥʍ
¡ʇɥƃıu ɟo ɹıɐ ʎɔı ǝɥʇ uı
'ǝlʞuıʇ 'ǝlʞuıʇ 'ǝlʞuıʇ ʎǝɥʇ ʍoɥ
¡sllǝʇǝɹoɟ ʎpolǝɯ ɹıǝɥʇ ʇuǝɯıɹɹǝɯ ɟo plɹoʍ ɐ ʇɐɥʍ
¡sllǝq ɹǝʌlıs
- sllǝq ǝɥʇ ɥʇıʍ sǝƃpǝls ǝɥʇ ɹɐǝɥ
Guessed the poem yet? Oh fine...here's the original in full.
So we shall try it with Wordle!
...and how about Flipped!
sllǝq ǝɥʇ ɟo ƃuılʞuıʇ ǝɥʇ puɐ ƃuılƃuıɾ ǝɥʇ ɯoɹɟ
- sllǝq 'sllǝq 'sllǝq
'sllǝq 'sllǝq 'sllǝq 'sllǝq ǝɥʇ ɯoɹɟ
sllǝʍ ʎllɐɔısnɯ os ʇɐɥʇ uoıʇɐlnqɐuuıʇuıʇ ǝɥʇ oʇ
'ǝɯʎɥɹ ɔıunɹ ɟo ʇɹos ɐ uı
'ǝɯıʇ 'ǝɯıʇ 'ǝɯıʇ ƃuıdǝǝʞ
;ʇɥƃılǝp ǝuıllɐʇsʎɹɔ ɐ ɥʇıʍ
ǝlʞuıʍʇ oʇ ɯǝǝs suǝʌɐǝɥ ǝɥʇ llɐ
ǝlʞuıɹdsɹǝʌo ʇɐɥʇ sɹɐʇs ǝɥʇ ǝlıɥʍ
¡ʇɥƃıu ɟo ɹıɐ ʎɔı ǝɥʇ uı
'ǝlʞuıʇ 'ǝlʞuıʇ 'ǝlʞuıʇ ʎǝɥʇ ʍoɥ
¡sllǝʇǝɹoɟ ʎpolǝɯ ɹıǝɥʇ ʇuǝɯıɹɹǝɯ ɟo plɹoʍ ɐ ʇɐɥʍ
¡sllǝq ɹǝʌlıs
- sllǝq ǝɥʇ ɥʇıʍ sǝƃpǝls ǝɥʇ ɹɐǝɥ
Guessed the poem yet? Oh fine...here's the original in full.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Ohhh Wikipedia, how you never cease to entertain:
"The beard-second is a unit of length inspired by the light-year, but used for extremely short distances such as those in nuclear physics. The beard-second is defined as the length an average beard grows in one second. Kemp Bennet Kolb defines the distance as exactly 100 Ångströms, (i.e. 10 nanometers) while Nordling and Österman's Physics Handbook has it half the size at 5 nanometers. Google Calculator supports the beard-second for unit conversions using the latter conversion factor."
...etc.
"The beard-second is a unit of length inspired by the light-year, but used for extremely short distances such as those in nuclear physics. The beard-second is defined as the length an average beard grows in one second. Kemp Bennet Kolb defines the distance as exactly 100 Ångströms, (i.e. 10 nanometers) while Nordling and Österman's Physics Handbook has it half the size at 5 nanometers. Google Calculator supports the beard-second for unit conversions using the latter conversion factor."
...etc.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Sowwy
Ooh sorry I was mean and Rickrolled you last week...I myself fell prey to that cruel ploy but meant to provide the actual link the day after. But then I forgot.
Still, better late than never??? Here's the Munsell Hue Test, for real.
By the way, I wasn't lying when I said I have killer color vision.
Still, better late than never??? Here's the Munsell Hue Test, for real.
By the way, I wasn't lying when I said I have killer color vision.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Touché
"...But if one fears or despises so much the philosophical foundations of a book, and if one demands so insistently the right to understand nothing about them and to say nothing on the subject, why become critic? To understand, to enlighten, that is your profession, isn't it? You can of course judge philosophy according to common sense; the trouble is that while 'common sense' and 'feeling' understand nothing about philosophy, philosophy, on the other hand, understands them perfectly. You don't explain philosophers, but they explain you."
Roland Barthes, Mythologies
Roland Barthes, Mythologies
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Like Sculptcha
Yet another from the Telegraph archives...
This time, a guy who carves obscenely tiny sculptures out of pencil lead. Okay graphite whatever...the point is, it's still in the pencil.
This time, a guy who carves obscenely tiny sculptures out of pencil lead. Okay graphite whatever...the point is, it's still in the pencil.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Idiom Du Jour
It's been a while since I've done one of these...
And today we're talking about clay feet.
To have feet of clay implies that one has flaws that are not immediately apparent...it typically refers to people who at first seem invincible but who in fact have hidden faults that lead to their own downfall or loss of reputation.
Apparently this idiomatic expression was first used around 1600 or so, but its source is rather older. Biblical, even - in the book of Daniel (2:31-34), there is a description of a dream had by the Chaldean King Nebuchadnezzar that depicts a large statue with a head of gold, but with feet of iron and baked clay. These materials cannot withstand a thrown stone, and are crushed into fragments and blown away by the wind. Sounds obvious enough to me about what all that might imply...although interestingly, the entire statue, gold and all, gets smashed to smithereens. But perhaps "head of gold" is less poetic.
And today we're talking about clay feet.
To have feet of clay implies that one has flaws that are not immediately apparent...it typically refers to people who at first seem invincible but who in fact have hidden faults that lead to their own downfall or loss of reputation.
Apparently this idiomatic expression was first used around 1600 or so, but its source is rather older. Biblical, even - in the book of Daniel (2:31-34), there is a description of a dream had by the Chaldean King Nebuchadnezzar that depicts a large statue with a head of gold, but with feet of iron and baked clay. These materials cannot withstand a thrown stone, and are crushed into fragments and blown away by the wind. Sounds obvious enough to me about what all that might imply...although interestingly, the entire statue, gold and all, gets smashed to smithereens. But perhaps "head of gold" is less poetic.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Dear Sir...
SIR – I swear that if I hear Ride of the Valkyries again on Classic FM, I may not be responsible for my actions.
This and more unpublished letters to the editor of the Telegraph at the link.
This and more unpublished letters to the editor of the Telegraph at the link.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
HP
I didn't post anything last night because I was out watching the latest Harry Potter film. I didn't nerd out this year like I did the year before - no midnight showings, no costumes, no themed snacks - but Harry was a part of my childhood experience and so to make up for the lack of nerdiness, I am going to use this opportunity to reflect on the predictions and prophecies of Professor Trelawney. I know.
Emma Thompson was sadly not in HP.7.1 but that is not going to deter me.
And when I say I am going to reflect, I mean I am going to copy a bunch of reflections I found on the internets when I looked up "Prof. Trelawney true predictions."
Right. So first there were the two boring - I mean, important - ones...the one in book 3 where she freaks out at the end of Harry's final about Pettigrew and Lord Voldything, and the one discussed in later books but which actually occurred prior to the start of the series about the "Chosen One." And both of those came true. Whatever.
I think what is more hilarious is that, although she is clearly presented as a fraud, JK Rowling writes in most of her predictions as coming true. Perhaps this is a comment on real-life fortune-tellers; perhaps it is just an inside joke.
For instance:
Emma Thompson was sadly not in HP.7.1 but that is not going to deter me.
And when I say I am going to reflect, I mean I am going to copy a bunch of reflections I found on the internets when I looked up "Prof. Trelawney true predictions."
Right. So first there were the two boring - I mean, important - ones...the one in book 3 where she freaks out at the end of Harry's final about Pettigrew and Lord Voldything, and the one discussed in later books but which actually occurred prior to the start of the series about the "Chosen One." And both of those came true. Whatever.
I think what is more hilarious is that, although she is clearly presented as a fraud, JK Rowling writes in most of her predictions as coming true. Perhaps this is a comment on real-life fortune-tellers; perhaps it is just an inside joke.
For instance:
- In her first lesson, she told Neville to take a blue cup after he broke his first one so that her pink cups would remain unsmashed...after he heard this, he broke his cup, took a blue one, and broke that too.
- She told a Gryffindor classmate, Parvati Patil, to beware of red headed men...much later, Harry and Ron (a red-headed "man") took Parvati and her twin to the Yule ball, where they rudely ignored them for the whole night. Still later, Ron started going out with Parvati's best friend Lavender Brown, who started to ignore Parvati.
- She predicted classes being cancelled due to sickness...which happened.
- She told Lavendar that the thing she was dreading would happen on 16 October...Hermione's skepticism aside, it is true that on that day, Lavender got a note that her pet rabbit had been eaten by a fox.
- She predicted that someone would leave their class forever...later that year, Hermione dropped out.
- One Christmas at Hogwarts, she said that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die. Harry and Ron got up from the table first together, but Albus Dumbledore was the first among those at the table to die...however, she was unaware that Scabbers, aka Peter Pettigrew, was sitting at the table, and so technically the first person to get up from a table of 13 that night was Dumbledore when he rose to welcome Trelawney.
- Some time after that, thirteen members of the order dined together, and the first to rise was Sirius, who was the first to die from among that setting.
- She told Dolores Umbridge that she saw dark events ahead when Umbridge was first appointed High Inquisitor at Hogwarts...later Umbridge was dragged off and imprisoned by centaurs in the Forbidden Forest.
- In the sixth book, Harry overhears Trelawney shuffling through some Tarot cards and talking to herself, saying first that a troubled dark young man is nearby who dislikes the questioner...that would be Harry...and secondly that she repeatedly draws the Lightning-Struck Tower card, indicating approaching disaster...soon after, Dumbledore was killed at the top of the Astronomy tower.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Munsell Hue Test
A little something different from that Myers-Briggs thing I keep going back to...
This time, rather than measuring your intelligence or personality, quantify and tabulate your perceptual prowess!
I don't want to make you feel bad by reporting my scores...but let's just say I have the color vision of a hawk. (Hawks can see in color, right?)
If you're jealous, comfort yourself with the fact that, sans spectacles, everything resolves itself into spectacularly-hued blobs. And if you do poorly, you can always blame it on your monitor display.
This time, rather than measuring your intelligence or personality, quantify and tabulate your perceptual prowess!
I don't want to make you feel bad by reporting my scores...but let's just say I have the color vision of a hawk. (Hawks can see in color, right?)
If you're jealous, comfort yourself with the fact that, sans spectacles, everything resolves itself into spectacularly-hued blobs. And if you do poorly, you can always blame it on your monitor display.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Greenhorn
mid-15c., “young horned animal,” from green in sense of “new, fresh, recent” + horn. Applied to new soldiers from c.1650; extended to any inexperienced person by 1680s.
Well I am retracting my Christmas list and asking you all to pool together your resources and bid on - and win - this set of ten hilarious aquatint engravings by John Ferneley (1782-1860). Got it? Good.
I first saw them in Richmond, at the Virginia Fine Arts Museum, and I can't tell if that museum foolishly decided to sell them, or if there are multiple copies of them floating around, but whatever the story is on their current status, the story of their creation is well worth the 5k. Not to mention that the artwork and corresponding captions are worth a chuckle (or ten). Sadly only one photo was available to be purloined on that auction site and I don't think it can be enlarged so the caption can be read. Any artists out there with access to academic catalogs let me know if better images exist.
So. Count Sandor's Hunting Exploits in Leicestershire...that's the somewhat facetious name of the 1833 series of 'comic mishaps,' for each depicts the Hungarian nobleman in various stages of disaster, surrounded by - or immersed in, or dragged through - the countryside. There's more to it than a painter slyly mocking foreign aristocracy attempting an English pursuit, though...in fact, the complete opposite proves to be the case. I located a book that reveals something of the character of both Ferneley the artist and Sandor the aristocrat here (starting on page 125 and continuing through to 130), and apparently the count commissioned the works for himself, and brought them back to his homeland at the conclusion of his British holiday...the man clearly had a sense of humor, and was more than a little insane.
Count Sandor started his career as a reckless soul when, as a toddler, he allegedly bit a dog that had first bit him; he grew into adulthood refusing equestrian lessons from his tutor and instead declaring that, "the man who has to learn to ride will never be a horseman." It would seem that these words were the motto by which he lived; between hunting, steeplechase, and curricle racing, the count spent more days of his life with broken bones than without, and only slowed his pace "after he had been flung on his head on an iron railing" and had to spend well over a year in an asylum. Although he wasn't actually killed by this accident, when he did eventually pass away, his funeral was characteristic of his life - twice the horses leading the hearse bolted and carried his body back to the stables.
Well I am retracting my Christmas list and asking you all to pool together your resources and bid on - and win - this set of ten hilarious aquatint engravings by John Ferneley (1782-1860). Got it? Good.
I first saw them in Richmond, at the Virginia Fine Arts Museum, and I can't tell if that museum foolishly decided to sell them, or if there are multiple copies of them floating around, but whatever the story is on their current status, the story of their creation is well worth the 5k. Not to mention that the artwork and corresponding captions are worth a chuckle (or ten). Sadly only one photo was available to be purloined on that auction site and I don't think it can be enlarged so the caption can be read. Any artists out there with access to academic catalogs let me know if better images exist.
So. Count Sandor's Hunting Exploits in Leicestershire...that's the somewhat facetious name of the 1833 series of 'comic mishaps,' for each depicts the Hungarian nobleman in various stages of disaster, surrounded by - or immersed in, or dragged through - the countryside. There's more to it than a painter slyly mocking foreign aristocracy attempting an English pursuit, though...in fact, the complete opposite proves to be the case. I located a book that reveals something of the character of both Ferneley the artist and Sandor the aristocrat here (starting on page 125 and continuing through to 130), and apparently the count commissioned the works for himself, and brought them back to his homeland at the conclusion of his British holiday...the man clearly had a sense of humor, and was more than a little insane.
Count Sandor started his career as a reckless soul when, as a toddler, he allegedly bit a dog that had first bit him; he grew into adulthood refusing equestrian lessons from his tutor and instead declaring that, "the man who has to learn to ride will never be a horseman." It would seem that these words were the motto by which he lived; between hunting, steeplechase, and curricle racing, the count spent more days of his life with broken bones than without, and only slowed his pace "after he had been flung on his head on an iron railing" and had to spend well over a year in an asylum. Although he wasn't actually killed by this accident, when he did eventually pass away, his funeral was characteristic of his life - twice the horses leading the hearse bolted and carried his body back to the stables.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Hibernation
While sitting at work, I had a sudden fragmented memory of learning that Medieval life wasn't nearly so bad as everyone makes it out to be...well except for the plagues...and that in fact, all winter long, people would just eat, sleep, and laze about until it came time to get working (planting, invading) once again.
A bit of research led me to QI with Stephen Fry as the source of this information, and some further digging gave me this article, both of which discuss human "hibernation." True, it doesn't sound as festive as Mr Fry implied - but then, what does? - loads of cattle indoors, corpses in the rafters, and crusts of bread for dinner is hardly the mead-drinking, story-telling, wood-carving free-for-all I was hoping for...but the essentials seem similar, and apparently, plausible.
However, I can't seem to find much about Middle Ages chillaxing that hasn't been written by Graham Robb...and I do see a fair amount that seems to imply people weren't just lying around. So maybe this is just a crackpot theory. Still, perhaps we ought to test it out...who wants to hang out for the next five months with me in the North End? I've got cannoli, films, Bananagrams, and several shelves of books, there's a liquor store just around the corner.
A bit of research led me to QI with Stephen Fry as the source of this information, and some further digging gave me this article, both of which discuss human "hibernation." True, it doesn't sound as festive as Mr Fry implied - but then, what does? - loads of cattle indoors, corpses in the rafters, and crusts of bread for dinner is hardly the mead-drinking, story-telling, wood-carving free-for-all I was hoping for...but the essentials seem similar, and apparently, plausible.
However, I can't seem to find much about Middle Ages chillaxing that hasn't been written by Graham Robb...and I do see a fair amount that seems to imply people weren't just lying around. So maybe this is just a crackpot theory. Still, perhaps we ought to test it out...who wants to hang out for the next five months with me in the North End? I've got cannoli, films, Bananagrams, and several shelves of books, there's a liquor store just around the corner.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Mitts!
Well I whined about them enough that I figured I probably should have some sort of follow-up. So...ta-da! [BONUS: a pasty picture of my pasty forearm!]
Brand newww...except for that time I spilled tea on them, washed them, and accidentally sent them through the dryer. Still, they're fine. Not really 'gloves' - you will probably note that I chickened out when it came to fingers and proper thumbs, but in the end I considered this an exercise in cable-knit (of the most rudimentary persuasion) and not an exercise in closing off holes. Anyway I can now add that to my list of knitting skills (knit! purl! go in circles! drop stitches on purpose! make extra stitches on purpose! etc!).
Next up on the knitting bee is probably something to teach me how to knit with two colors, so that should be exciting. Or a nightmare, I have read the instructions for Fair Isle and they look pretty scary.
Next up on the knitting bee is probably something to teach me how to knit with two colors, so that should be exciting. Or a nightmare, I have read the instructions for Fair Isle and they look pretty scary.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Speculoos
I stumbled across a mention of speculoos biscuits while trundling around the internet, and it took me back to a distant summer afternoon, reading novels in a French cafe over a double espresso. Apparently though it's not just me who has such an instantaneous reaction to these little cookies. And it's not just associative pleasure - these things really are empirically delicious.
Sorry, specu-whats? Well, "Speculoos are decorative caramelized biscuits and they were traditionally used to celebrate weddings and births, to teach history, and to chronicle war in Europe. Today Speculoos make up 20% of all the cookies eaten in Belgium and are still an important part of their culture." I don't know about war, but fighting over them sounds sort of reasonable. They taste like spices and sunshine and probably contain trace amounts of cocaine. They're made by Biscoff (a company that apparently has formed some sort of heaven-made match with Anna's), and you can get them for free with any cup of coffee in most of Europe...but alas, here in the USA they only show up in unusual places, such as on Delta flights. A number of food writers have remarked on this, actually, and I've just decided I'm going to quote these seasoned authors (as it were) to close out this entry. Yes I am that lazy. Plus I need to figure out where in Boston might stock these gorgeous little wonders.
From a guy called Francis Lam:
"But anyway, yes: the cookie. The great Delta cookie. Once you've had them, felt the slight, sudden shock of joy that comes over you while otherwise sitting stuffed and cramped in an unbearably loud machine in the sky, it is possible to find yourself unable to stop thinking about them, to find them popping up in your mind every once in a while when you are tired or hungry or yearning to breathe free. (In fact, while writing this, I could not resist having some and dipped one, for the hell of it, in nice olive oil. It was just about the best thing I've ever put in my mouth.)"
From a more pretentious guy called John Currence:
"What I love about the Biscoff is purely existential. Airline travel is on the verge of being unbearable these days. I feel like a feedlot steer being shuttled between uncomfortable sets of circumstances. The Biscoff is the consistent and delicious reminder to me that there is still something good about airline travel, as difficult as it may be to identify, wedged into a center seat. I also appreciate, in a world of over-consumption, that I am limited to those two miniature planks of loveliness. I could eat my weight in them and woe be to my waistline if I were to unleash a box of them and an ice cold glass of whole milk on my gluttonous urges. I have found myself after a trip with the 1-800 number for the Biscoff maker in my hand on an empty wrapper, with the offer of regular consumption, but have always let it go, so as not to spoil that moment on each flight when I want to scream and am saved by those two wonderful cookies."
A guy called David Lebovitz now tells me there's a spreadable version:
"Still, I gotta give it to those French tastemakers: the Speculoos à Tartiner was amazing. Imagine in not-too-sweet gingersnap, spicy and bold, that you can smear over a piece of baguette. Or lick right off the spoon. Move over Nutella. (Unless there’s a chocolate version. Then we’ll talk.)"
Sorry, specu-whats? Well, "Speculoos are decorative caramelized biscuits and they were traditionally used to celebrate weddings and births, to teach history, and to chronicle war in Europe. Today Speculoos make up 20% of all the cookies eaten in Belgium and are still an important part of their culture." I don't know about war, but fighting over them sounds sort of reasonable. They taste like spices and sunshine and probably contain trace amounts of cocaine. They're made by Biscoff (a company that apparently has formed some sort of heaven-made match with Anna's), and you can get them for free with any cup of coffee in most of Europe...but alas, here in the USA they only show up in unusual places, such as on Delta flights. A number of food writers have remarked on this, actually, and I've just decided I'm going to quote these seasoned authors (as it were) to close out this entry. Yes I am that lazy. Plus I need to figure out where in Boston might stock these gorgeous little wonders.
From a guy called Francis Lam:
"But anyway, yes: the cookie. The great Delta cookie. Once you've had them, felt the slight, sudden shock of joy that comes over you while otherwise sitting stuffed and cramped in an unbearably loud machine in the sky, it is possible to find yourself unable to stop thinking about them, to find them popping up in your mind every once in a while when you are tired or hungry or yearning to breathe free. (In fact, while writing this, I could not resist having some and dipped one, for the hell of it, in nice olive oil. It was just about the best thing I've ever put in my mouth.)"
From a more pretentious guy called John Currence:
"What I love about the Biscoff is purely existential. Airline travel is on the verge of being unbearable these days. I feel like a feedlot steer being shuttled between uncomfortable sets of circumstances. The Biscoff is the consistent and delicious reminder to me that there is still something good about airline travel, as difficult as it may be to identify, wedged into a center seat. I also appreciate, in a world of over-consumption, that I am limited to those two miniature planks of loveliness. I could eat my weight in them and woe be to my waistline if I were to unleash a box of them and an ice cold glass of whole milk on my gluttonous urges. I have found myself after a trip with the 1-800 number for the Biscoff maker in my hand on an empty wrapper, with the offer of regular consumption, but have always let it go, so as not to spoil that moment on each flight when I want to scream and am saved by those two wonderful cookies."
A guy called David Lebovitz now tells me there's a spreadable version:
"Still, I gotta give it to those French tastemakers: the Speculoos à Tartiner was amazing. Imagine in not-too-sweet gingersnap, spicy and bold, that you can smear over a piece of baguette. Or lick right off the spoon. Move over Nutella. (Unless there’s a chocolate version. Then we’ll talk.)"
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Saturday, November 13, 2010
A Poem by A.A. Milne
Christopher Robin
Had wheezles
And sneezles,
They bundled him
Into
His bed.
They gave him what goes
With a cold in the nose,
And some more for a cold
In the head.
They wondered
If wheezles
Could turn
Into measles,
If sneezles
Would turn
Into mumps;
They examined his chest
For a rash,
And the rest
Of his body for swellings and lumps.
They sent for some doctors
In sneezles
And wheezles
To tell them what ought
To be done.
All sorts and conditions
Of famous physicians
Came hurrying round
At a run.
They all made a note
Of the state of his throat,
They asked if he suffered from thirst;
They asked if the sneezles
Came after the wheezles,
Or if the first sneezle
Came first.
They said, "If you teazle
A sneezle
Or wheezle,
A measle
May easily grow.
But humour or pleazle
The wheezle
Or sneezle,
The measle
Will certainly go."
They expounded the reazles
For sneezles
And wheezles,
The manner of measles
When new.
They said "If he freezles
In draughts and in breezles,
Then PHTHEEZLES
May even ensue."
Christopher Robin
Got up in the morning,
The sneezles had vanished away.
And the look in his eye
Seemed to say to the sky,
"Now, how to amuse them to-day?"
Had wheezles
And sneezles,
They bundled him
Into
His bed.
They gave him what goes
With a cold in the nose,
And some more for a cold
In the head.
They wondered
If wheezles
Could turn
Into measles,
If sneezles
Would turn
Into mumps;
They examined his chest
For a rash,
And the rest
Of his body for swellings and lumps.
They sent for some doctors
In sneezles
And wheezles
To tell them what ought
To be done.
All sorts and conditions
Of famous physicians
Came hurrying round
At a run.
They all made a note
Of the state of his throat,
They asked if he suffered from thirst;
They asked if the sneezles
Came after the wheezles,
Or if the first sneezle
Came first.
They said, "If you teazle
A sneezle
Or wheezle,
A measle
May easily grow.
But humour or pleazle
The wheezle
Or sneezle,
The measle
Will certainly go."
They expounded the reazles
For sneezles
And wheezles,
The manner of measles
When new.
They said "If he freezles
In draughts and in breezles,
Then PHTHEEZLES
May even ensue."
Christopher Robin
Got up in the morning,
The sneezles had vanished away.
And the look in his eye
Seemed to say to the sky,
"Now, how to amuse them to-day?"
Friday, November 12, 2010
Science Films (Really!)
It started out with sitting down to go through The Life Aquatic a few evenings ago, and then somehow I ended up watching all of David Attenborough's The Life of...series(es...Birds, Mammals, etc.). Plus, to make matters worse, I got forwarded an interesting video link at work of an MIT seminar I had missed...how the brain thinks about the mind, takes me right back to 11th grade with Mr Robertson...and somehow that led to *science films* (cue spooky music).
But honestly, these things really seem worth watching...and also seem to be "science films" (as we know them from biology class at least...so don't let that scare you off, my non-science-nerds) in only the most liberal of definitions. But grrrrr apparently they aren't public domain and I would have to go to NYC...a month ago...to have seen any of them. WHY...well anyway, here is the site, and if you care to spend some time investigating it and end up finding an actual video, please inform moi. I am particularly looking for this year's winners (the people have spoken and I believe in the people): so that's "Marius Borodine," "Skhizein," and "An Eyeful of Sound" (synesthesia yayyy!)...but "Cold and Dry" might be worthwhile as well. Anyway.
But honestly, these things really seem worth watching...and also seem to be "science films" (as we know them from biology class at least...so don't let that scare you off, my non-science-nerds) in only the most liberal of definitions. But grrrrr apparently they aren't public domain and I would have to go to NYC...a month ago...to have seen any of them. WHY...well anyway, here is the site, and if you care to spend some time investigating it and end up finding an actual video, please inform moi. I am particularly looking for this year's winners (the people have spoken and I believe in the people): so that's "Marius Borodine," "Skhizein," and "An Eyeful of Sound" (synesthesia yayyy!)...but "Cold and Dry" might be worthwhile as well. Anyway.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Clicky
So here is a nifty thing for those of you who are lazy, or environmentally-conscious...but still want to be thought of as polite, or creative...it is called Paperless Post and if enough of you sign up by following that link, I might just get enough "well-done-you-recommended-someone" credit to become inspired to have a Christmas party. First, to make some friends...
Oh and if that doesn't spike your interest, here's a little article about how the physicists (or something) have figured out how cats drink.
Oh and if that doesn't spike your interest, here's a little article about how the physicists (or something) have figured out how cats drink.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Gar-what?
Garum: fermented fish sauce.
Yep, my three favorite things all rolled up into one...oh wait.
This entry kind of goes along with that Legionnaire Salad a few entries down...but I'm going to file it under history rather than recipes, because I highly doubt that any of you are going to give the old garum fish sauce a try over the weekend. For one thing, although apparently the flavor of the finished sauce was mild, the production process reeked to high heaven. And that's saying something, in a culture like Rome's.
Oh, did I not mention that this is an ancient Roman predilection? Well, technically it's Greek - but the Romans stole it from the Greeks like they did just about everything else, and so we're calling it Roman like we do the rest of it.
So basically (and I know I said I wasn't providing a recipe, but here I go anyway) to make garum, you take the innards of all your fish and eels and what-have-you, toss them in a barrel (or amphora), sprinkle on some salt, and add some weight to the top. Then (apparently) this sits in the sun for a while (a long while) while everything goes to mush. Yummy. But we're not finished...the mixture has to be strained, so that you end up with a sort sludge called allec that's good for feeding the plebeians, and a thick and pungent liquid, garum of course, that is more expensive than caviar and that you can add to basically whatever dish you're cooking. The beauty of a sauce...
If you don't feel like cooking, you can always just take your garum and water it down with water...or wine...or honey...or whatever you have at hand, really, and that will be a delicious snack for you, plus a treatment for both constipation and diarrhea, and as an added bonus it will get rid of your freckles.
Yep, my three favorite things all rolled up into one...oh wait.
This entry kind of goes along with that Legionnaire Salad a few entries down...but I'm going to file it under history rather than recipes, because I highly doubt that any of you are going to give the old garum fish sauce a try over the weekend. For one thing, although apparently the flavor of the finished sauce was mild, the production process reeked to high heaven. And that's saying something, in a culture like Rome's.
Oh, did I not mention that this is an ancient Roman predilection? Well, technically it's Greek - but the Romans stole it from the Greeks like they did just about everything else, and so we're calling it Roman like we do the rest of it.
So basically (and I know I said I wasn't providing a recipe, but here I go anyway) to make garum, you take the innards of all your fish and eels and what-have-you, toss them in a barrel (or amphora), sprinkle on some salt, and add some weight to the top. Then (apparently) this sits in the sun for a while (a long while) while everything goes to mush. Yummy. But we're not finished...the mixture has to be strained, so that you end up with a sort sludge called allec that's good for feeding the plebeians, and a thick and pungent liquid, garum of course, that is more expensive than caviar and that you can add to basically whatever dish you're cooking. The beauty of a sauce...
If you don't feel like cooking, you can always just take your garum and water it down with water...or wine...or honey...or whatever you have at hand, really, and that will be a delicious snack for you, plus a treatment for both constipation and diarrhea, and as an added bonus it will get rid of your freckles.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Quiet Ambrose
Let's hear it for Saint Ambrose, Bishop of Milan, who could to read silently to himself.
From Augustine's Confessions: "When he read, his eyes scanned the page and his heart sought out the meaning, but his voice was silent and his tongue was still. Anyone could approach him freely and guests were not commonly announced, so that often, when we came to visit him, we found him reading like this in silence, for he never read aloud."
Monday, November 8, 2010
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Fall Back
Yes yes yes...don't forget about the end of Daylight Savings this evening - at 2am the clocks go back an hour which means SLEEP. And then church.
So I typed "fall back" into YouTube, thinking I might get some home video bloopers or a nerdy kid in his bedroom ranting about sleeping in and missing classes. Instead I got a lot of music videos. Apparently falling backwards is a popular theme for songwriters. The vast majority appeared to be rap/hip hop/whatever the kids are calling it these days, and I was concerned about profanity and awkward blogness...this one, however, is in a class all its own. I don't understand the genre...but there you go. It works.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Legionnaire Salad
(I've modified a classic Ruzich salad from the famous volume Stuff We Eat (ed. A. Ruzich)...but it is as-yet untested...we'll see how it goes over this evening at the potluck.)
1 head Boston Lettuce
1 Fennel Bulb
3 Clementines, peeled and in segments (or canned clementines if you have an aversion to peeling oranges, chewing pips, and that funny white stringy stuff...)
½ cup Candied Almond Slivers (to make these, combine 2 cups almonds, ½ cup sugar, and 1 beaten egg white; spread on wax paper and cook in oven at 300 degrees for about 30 minutes, tossing occasionally)
Halve the fennel bulb, reserving top fronds. Cut half into wedges, place on a baking sheet covered in foil, drizzle with olive oil and roast for 20-30 minutes at 400 degrees or until caramelized, flipping once. Take the other half, add leafy fronds to lettuce bed, thinly slice remaining half-bulb, and sprinkle with almonds and orange segments.
Dressing:
¼ cup Olive Oil
1 tbsp Sugar
2 tbsp Red Wine Vinegar
¼ tsp Salt
¼ tsp Almond Extract
Combine and serve.
1 head Boston Lettuce
1 Fennel Bulb
3 Clementines, peeled and in segments (or canned clementines if you have an aversion to peeling oranges, chewing pips, and that funny white stringy stuff...)
½ cup Candied Almond Slivers (to make these, combine 2 cups almonds, ½ cup sugar, and 1 beaten egg white; spread on wax paper and cook in oven at 300 degrees for about 30 minutes, tossing occasionally)
Halve the fennel bulb, reserving top fronds. Cut half into wedges, place on a baking sheet covered in foil, drizzle with olive oil and roast for 20-30 minutes at 400 degrees or until caramelized, flipping once. Take the other half, add leafy fronds to lettuce bed, thinly slice remaining half-bulb, and sprinkle with almonds and orange segments.
Dressing:
¼ cup Olive Oil
1 tbsp Sugar
2 tbsp Red Wine Vinegar
¼ tsp Salt
¼ tsp Almond Extract
Combine and serve.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Argot (and so on)
Wowww okay so I have been meaning to write this post since January 16th...or maybe even since Summer '08. Trouble is, I've had the note on my desktop so long that I kind of forget what I meant to write about. Still, when has that ever stopped me..?
So actually, back in the summer of 2008, when I was living in Aix-en-Provence, I had a number of interesting conversations with French people about their language. And yes, these conversations were held in French. (I touched on this, actually, in one of those old entries.) That period in my life will never cease to astonish me.
Everyone knows that the language one learns in a classroom doesn't have much in common with the language one will be butchering on the street when one visits the country where said language is spoken. This runs deeper, though, than never having the opportunity to use the phrase, "my pink pencil case was under the boiler last Thursday"; it's more than commonly-used vocabulary and not being taught the swear-words (nom d'un nom d'un nom d'un nom!), because there are whole language systems that they'll never teach in school.
French slang - and I'm discussing French because it is the language I am most familiar with (aside, obviously, from English) - comes in a myriad of flavors. There's Verlan and Louchébem, languages that use a traditional French technique of syllabic inversion, working sort of like Pig Latins (but rather more complex). These also have elements of secret coded rhyming slangs like Cockney, it seems.
Anyway, an example of Verlan that has made it into mainstream, in order to make this less confusing. Keep in mind that Louchébem has completely different rules. But okay: we start with arabe, Arab (the nationality)...this is inverted to form the Verlan equivalent beur (you have to remember that, in French, phonemes and graphemes play fast and loose). This in turn has become further inverted now that the original slang meaning is common knowledge, so that the new term rebeu has been born. Interestingly, it would seem that the semantic meaning also shifts with each transformation...while the first word refers to someone from northern Africa, the second appears to mean anyone of Arabic descent, and I haven't had this confirmed by any native speaker, but might the third version be the next generation?
Also interestingly - and I was told this by a French native speaker, although I'm not sure I believe it (not to mention that I am recalling it correctly) - apparently there are no racial slurs in these street slangs, just racist constructions and contexts.
Right. seven paragraphs in and I still haven't mentioned my title. Technically everything I've discussed up to now has been Argot, a word that, translated from French to English, itself means slang. The wonderful thing about French Argot is how dynamic it is (as seen above), how adaptive and how democratic. Like I said, you can't learn it in a classroom, and dictionaries really don't do it justice. However, if you're interested despite my warnings, there's a dictionary here of basic slang vocabulary, and there are also a surprisingly large number of scholarly articles online if you're feeling rather more highbrow.
So actually, back in the summer of 2008, when I was living in Aix-en-Provence, I had a number of interesting conversations with French people about their language. And yes, these conversations were held in French. (I touched on this, actually, in one of those old entries.) That period in my life will never cease to astonish me.
Everyone knows that the language one learns in a classroom doesn't have much in common with the language one will be butchering on the street when one visits the country where said language is spoken. This runs deeper, though, than never having the opportunity to use the phrase, "my pink pencil case was under the boiler last Thursday"; it's more than commonly-used vocabulary and not being taught the swear-words (nom d'un nom d'un nom d'un nom!), because there are whole language systems that they'll never teach in school.
French slang - and I'm discussing French because it is the language I am most familiar with (aside, obviously, from English) - comes in a myriad of flavors. There's Verlan and Louchébem, languages that use a traditional French technique of syllabic inversion, working sort of like Pig Latins (but rather more complex). These also have elements of secret coded rhyming slangs like Cockney, it seems.
Anyway, an example of Verlan that has made it into mainstream, in order to make this less confusing. Keep in mind that Louchébem has completely different rules. But okay: we start with arabe, Arab (the nationality)...this is inverted to form the Verlan equivalent beur (you have to remember that, in French, phonemes and graphemes play fast and loose). This in turn has become further inverted now that the original slang meaning is common knowledge, so that the new term rebeu has been born. Interestingly, it would seem that the semantic meaning also shifts with each transformation...while the first word refers to someone from northern Africa, the second appears to mean anyone of Arabic descent, and I haven't had this confirmed by any native speaker, but might the third version be the next generation?
Also interestingly - and I was told this by a French native speaker, although I'm not sure I believe it (not to mention that I am recalling it correctly) - apparently there are no racial slurs in these street slangs, just racist constructions and contexts.
Right. seven paragraphs in and I still haven't mentioned my title. Technically everything I've discussed up to now has been Argot, a word that, translated from French to English, itself means slang. The wonderful thing about French Argot is how dynamic it is (as seen above), how adaptive and how democratic. Like I said, you can't learn it in a classroom, and dictionaries really don't do it justice. However, if you're interested despite my warnings, there's a dictionary here of basic slang vocabulary, and there are also a surprisingly large number of scholarly articles online if you're feeling rather more highbrow.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Rate's Commonplace Book (And Other Things You Should Read, Despite Their Length)
Okay...I am sorry I am continuing to slack here...but I'm knitting a pair of mittens and anyway I have a scratch on my palm that makes typing uncomfortable. (I got it collecting bricks...long story.)
Anyway, this one is interesting - I couldn't say it better myself. Tomorrow or thereabouts I will pick back up with the posts actually written by me. Rather than reblogging.
Mmkay here you go!
Linky!
Anyway, this one is interesting - I couldn't say it better myself. Tomorrow or thereabouts I will pick back up with the posts actually written by me. Rather than reblogging.
Mmkay here you go!
Linky!
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Woo Woo Woo
I miss Flight of the Conchords...my evening activity has typically been to eat dinner and watch a movie or television program, so it saddens me that there will be no season three.
There will be this, however:
There will be this, however:
Monday, November 1, 2010
Jane Austen was Awesome
Apparently there has been some news of late that Jane Austen was not as cool as everyone thinks she was today because her editor edited her work a lot.
Well first of all I would like to point to "Stephenie" Meyer and her atrocities, which no amount of editing could ever fix, as much as they must have tried. And tried, and tried.
And secondly, this.
Well first of all I would like to point to "Stephenie" Meyer and her atrocities, which no amount of editing could ever fix, as much as they must have tried. And tried, and tried.
And secondly, this.
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