Rotten Assembly: July 2006

Precious Jewels, Precious Links

Every once in a while you start surfing and find a whole trail of gold. I even found the amazing web site Language Log, apparently venerable but spanking new to me.

Here are some treasured quotes from today, many of them from Language Log...

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From a pulse-pounding book review on prescriptivist vs. descriptivist grammarians:

Pullum has special vitriol for Elements of Style, which he calls a "horrid little notebook of nonsense," and debunks a number of Strunk and White's dicta.

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Which links to an overwrought but fascinating article on Dan "Hack" Brown:

The simple fact is that if you are ever mentioned on page 1 of a Dan Brown novel you will be mentioned with an anarthrous occupational nominal premodifier...and you will have died a painful and horrible death by page 2, along with several curiously ill-chosen clichés and mangled idioms.

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And finally an attack on a beleaguered English word, with some pompous college activists as exhibit number one:

Yes, seeing is believing. That's two occurrences of whom in subject function, right there on a single defaced American flag...It's a desperately insecure clutching after a form that people no longer know where to use or how to control.

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Language Log also contains some rousing articles on bad language, including one with some great anecdotes and another on the phrase "the butt-crack of dawn".

The Drudge Effect

I was dutifully testing out my favorite link from this site, which goes to A Beka Book, when I encountered a "Cannot Find Server" error. At first I was concerned that all the traffic from my blog might have crashed their servers, but a second try brought up the page in no time. Whew! I sure wouldn't want to be charged with a Denial of Service attack or something.

In Which, Being Angry, I Use Bad Language

So American Floyd Landis has taken the lead from France's Cyril Dessel in the Tour de France. Between this and the World Cup, French men must be vomiting in their nutsacks by now. I'm not even going to describe what French women are doing. Maybe now the French will realize their real purpose in life is making movies and get back to it.

In another great event for America, expect police to start barging into your homes and lookin' for stuff after the recent Supreme Court ruling regarding permissible evidence. Nice to have Alito and Roberts continue to take the All-Powerful-Government baton from a gasping Bush. If all goes well, America will have Frankenbush making scary 5-4 decisions on the Supreme Court and in your homes for a good 20 more years.

Not Guilty

I couldn't sleep. I was supposed to be asleep about 5 hours ago, but I'm still wide awake.

I went to the fridge and ate two more fake puddings. Also some rice and broccoli. It's great being a vegan.

I think I know how I got on this pudding craze. It's this career change thing. Working 12-14 hours at a time, having no idea what I'm doing, running off two hastily scarfed power bars and one leisurely eaten banana, leaves a guy kind of subliminally hungry, even if he is too stressed to actually have an appetite.

Meanwhile, all these patients are looking at us and asking, "You having anything to eat?" And they look at us like they hope we have pudding. Well, actually, more like they're thinking of meaty stew and tender chicken wings, and like pudding is the farthest thing from their minds.

So we smile really, really big and say, "Yes, we have crackers, jello, and pudding! And four kinds of juice!" And then we clap our hands together like we're really excited.

And they laugh. They think we're joking. Works every time. But once reality sets in, the choice is already set. We don't bother to tell them that jello is available only on lucky days, because they will ALWAYS ask for pudding. And we also don't remind them that these items are infinitely better than the army rations slop that's served during the day, because that would REALLY depress them.

So all the patients have pudding in their rooms all the time around the clock. And I'm running around, and some shameful part of me is thinking, "You bastards, even though your face is shot off and your legs are broken and you have multiple stab wounds to your abdomen and you s___ out your stomach instead of your a__, and you're crying alone in your room all night with pain, at least you get to lie there and eat pudding!"

I Need to Brush My Teeth

I just ate some vegan vanilla "pudding." While I was eating it, the taste and texture were vaguely unpleasant. However, the aftertaste was incredible.

Part of me wants more of this pudding. I know I will not enjoy it, but I have been obsessing over it for the last 50 minutes, because the yummy aftertaste is still in my mouth.

I tried to write some haikus about it, but none of them turned out any good.

Even God Reads My Blog

Well, I have received a message from God, in the form of - of all things - an anonymous comment on my blog.

I used to think that only losers posted anonymous, but seeing Who this is from, I stand utterly corrected. Here is God's message to me (as I recall from my A Beka Book grammar in high school, all words from God and referencing pronouns should be in all-caps and red ink):

PAVLOV, THIS IS GOD. PLEASE CORRECT YOUR QUOTATION OF GENESIS 10:8-9 AND READ HTTP://EN.WIKIPEDIA.ORG/WIKI/BLASPHEMY .

I was surprised by God's easy-reading reference to a workmanlike Wikipedia article discussing various outmoded and overturned state laws. These laws impose some minimal fines for certain types of blasphemy, but only so long as the blasphemy occurred 200 years ago or more. I believe, however, that Neehar the Wonder Donkey was mentioned explicitly, so maybe that was the point.

What I had expected from God was something more along the lines of 2 Kings 13:17-19, which goes exactly like this: "I shall smite thee, I shall smite thee, I shall smite thee." I would especially have expected this for misquoting an Old Testament verse, which is what I sort of did. Note that if you misquote a New Testament verse you just have to ask forgiveness.

At any rate, I think my version came pretty close. In fact, I think God was referring to his King James version (the inspired translation) and didn't realize I was quoting exactly from the NIV version - there ARE subtle differences between the two! I guess this is proof that God really does want us to use the King James.

As a side note, the Revised Standard Version is even more interesting. Behold its version of 2 Kings 13:17-19, to which I referred above:

"And when I have smitten thee the third time, I shall smite thee twice the more. And when I have smitten thee five or six times, then I shall be wroth, and my fury shall smite the land, yea I shall smite it utterly."

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I leave you with an admonishment from www.godsview.com:

"Search the Bible for certain words or vaguely remembered verses."

Wait for It

No, wait, this is really funny.

Make Immigrants Learn English!

I did a little light reading yesterday. For God's sake, what is going on out there in editor land?

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For CNN's headline Sport's Most Ultimate Meltdowns of All Time, I award my award of Most Extraneous Words in All of Eternity Ever Award.

Note that as usual with CNN/SI, just about every event of all time happened within the last 15 years.

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Puzzling sentence of the day goes to Sherri S. Tepper in After Long Silence:

"A neophyte, paralyzed with fear, had flung himself at a Presence."

Neehar the Wonder Donkey

Garrhhh. Just what I needed after a stinking 14-hour workshift: A patron at the Austin library has placed a hold on au hasard Balthazar - I will not have time to watch the extra features!

Nowhere but Austin. Back in Virginia, I would have had to exceed my doctor's recommended Benadryl prescription just to protect myself from the dust on the DVD case. But in movieville Austin, no one can wait even a week to see this exciting French donkey movie from the 60s. They talk about it to their friends. They rave about it in blogs. They discuss it over dinner and on dates.

Which brings to mind my favorite Bible verse about a donkey:

"And Cush begat Nimrod: he began to be a mighty one in the earth. He was a mighty hunter before the LORD: wherefore it is said, Even as Nimrod the mighty hunter before the LORD. And Nimrod the mighty hunter begat Conan, a mighty man of valour. And Conan wandered the earth with Neehar his mighty wonder donkey, and he laid help upon One that is Mighty." (Genesis 10:8-9).

Stepping Off the Ingmar Berman Path

"Two thumbs up!" - Ernest and Roeper and the Movies

It's not just the English and the Finns - Swedes are strange too! I just finished watching Under solen, a Swedish film about a 40-year-old male virgin. But unlike the recent American film with a similar situation, the People of Long Winters do not play it for laughs, oh indubitably no! Instead we are treated to a tearful, dramatic confession of virginity (trembling is involved), followed by a subdued, pastoral, Rocky-style sex training montage. All accompanied by a Titanic-style Gaelic score. Yeah, it came out one year after Titanic, by which time everyone and everything from rap records to horror movies had gone Gaelic, Gaelic, Gaelic. Rent it today!

Now I am going to watch au hasard Balthazar, a French New Wave movie about a noble donkey.

Do They Make Good Movies, Too?

While researching the phrase "like two peas in a pod", I came across Wikipedia's list of Finnish idioms. I am going to share a few below:

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a bridge of a donkey...a tenuous connection between the old discussion topic and a new one

to open one's head...to speak provocatively to someone

not to be riding a rabbit...not to be in an immediate hurry

to throw the spoon in the corner...to die

the horses will run away...euphemism for "your fly is open"

urinated while running...haphazardly implemented

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And so on. If I had a close group of friends who relied on me for drinks and money, I think we would all start speaking in Finnish idioms.

Damned with Faint Praise

So some guy from the UK (or do I call him a 'bloke'?) commented on my "Great Grammar Rebellion", which I thought was ever so appropriate considering my highly amusing little references to the American Revolution. It's always so nice to get the approval of someone from the UK, seeing as they have better schools. Plus that island accent makes you want to bow down and fondly say 'yes, sire' whenever they give their opinion.

But the problem with the English is that they always make you think they are complimenting you, and you get all giggly and giddy because royalty has looked upon you with favor. But then you think back and realize the whole island was actually sniggering at you in its thick hoppy beers.

For example, nubianerd from the UK says that he "wholeheartedly support[s]" my rebellion and that my blog is "fascinating". All good and well. But is "fascinating" being used in the way that Americans use "interesting" - that is, "interesting that I find nothing good to say about this"? And right smack in the middle, between two distracting head pats and hidden in a jungle of context where I'm not likely to notice, he says that my "rebellion seems much less impressive on [his] end".

Well, gosh and gee, Mr. Englishman. Some guy is all hot and bothered carrying a war helmet and waving his bloody war flag and you realize the best way to cut him down to size is not to say "I'll fight to the death" or "calm down, Sparky" like a good American, but to just say "not impressive". This is the same tactic that girls use when a guy is rampaging around waving his thing and she comments mildly on his "small" package. Well, two peas in a pod, Mr. Englishman, or as the Finnish would say, like two berries.

The Great Trevor Accuses Me of Slander

Let me tell you about the Great Trevor. He's really smart. He's good at math. And he has an eye for detail. So I should have known better than to think he might have ever been wrong. Yet in my entry "New Contest Already Won" I carelessly assumed that I might be right and he might be wrong. The Great Trevor has written a powerful rebuttal. His passage is concise and polite, and his sentences in the concluding paragraph have a certain rhythm that truly drive his point home. If this blog were written half as well I would be rich by now.

I have placed his text in a small font to set it off from mine and because his words speak so loudly:

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While I appreciate winning the contest, I must take exception with one small part of your entry.

You misplaced your conjunctions, assuming that I written the word 'while', when I had actually typed the word 'as'. Before you deny this, check your chat history (we have a chat history {sigh}, does that make us little girls?). You have made a strange variation of the common english language mistake of using misplaced conjunctions. I admire your courage and ingenuity in making this faux pas.

For future reference, I never misuse or misspell words. If you find what appears to be a mistake, it was actually a calculated effort on my part. Look deep into the context of the supposedly improper sentence, and you will find why I typed it so. You have much to learn grasshopper.

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Technically he's right, or at least I believe him - he goes to church a lot, and I have no idea how to look back in my chat log - that always seemed so plebeian to me. And any words from the Great Trevor increase the value of this blog
But the problem is that little swipe at the Great Trevor brought a certain balance to the paragraph. I can't correct it without turning a diamond into a turd, or least deflating a proud hot steaming turd into a smear on the sidewalk. That little swipe really serves as the foundation stone of this entire blog.

I guess I'm going to have to just tear down this whole blog and start over again, because now the whole construction is going to be ruined. I'm surprised the Great One didn't see that and keep quiet. Maybe he could have sacrificed a little face for art.

I thought he was my friend.

Stork Poem Written by Me Me Me Then Then Then

I wrote this poem years ago. As God has seen fit to turn my brain into a dried-up old prune and leave me nothing of value to offer myself or you, I reach into my moldy, rotting bag of tricks and place this succulent, plum-like morsel on the table:

the stork made whoopie in our living room
that's why we shot it
it lay on the floor and bled and we laughed at it
because it thought it was god

Just Shut Up About Irony

The battle is lost. Ninety percent of the population now uses the word incorrectly. That means by rights it has a new definition and now everyone is correct after all. Isn't that swell? All that fighting over nothing. Just another lost word. Just another lost, noble, useful word that once held it's head high and soared with Icarus in the heavens, praise His Holy Name! No reason to give up on humanity. No reason to feel downhearted. Plenty of room for everyone in this word.

Proposed New Ejaculation

"By Occam's Razor!"

In modern usage, we sadly lack any widely-used ejaculations of the "by Blank" variety, perhaps because our deities are either too revered or too disrespected to merit their usage in this form. Our ejaculations are thus reduced to colorless, one-syllable spasms, often accompanied by a jerky head nod and futile single downward stroke of a hand:
"S__!"
"F__!"
or "D__!"

In reading books of olden times, one is struck by how each ejaculation carried it's own image and story, and was imbued with vastly more elegance:
"By the Great Ghost's Flowing White Beard!"
"By Thor's Great Thunderclapping Hammer!"
"By the Great White Handkerchief!"

Even when watching ancient Batman reruns, one envies Robin's ability to adapt his "Holy Whatnot" ejaculations to the situation. Imagine how reduced these shows would have been if Robin had punked out and jerked his head to "S__!" or "F__!" or "D___!"

I therefore propose a return to the old methods. We need only adapt our current deities of philosophy, science, and celebrity glamour to make the forms resonate. "By Occam's Razor!" could, I'm sure, be used to fine effect in the proper situation. We need only develop a storehouse of new phrases, used appropriately, to return us to the glory of the old days.

Angry About Grammar

Earlier to day, I caught myself writing something along the lines of "I would only do this for you." Upon reflection, I was horrified, and looking up, caught a glimpse of my own shocked stupid horse face in the mirror. The word "only" is commonly accepted to be utterly flexible. We believe that we can place the word anywhere in the sentence and everyone will know exactly what we are talking about. And most often this is true, but we ignore at our peril the aesthetics and rightness of proper placement of the word.

By context, the recipient understood that I would do this thing for no one but her. Yet if its position in the sentence were to be taken strictly, the word "only" would modify the verb "do", not "you". Meaning that I would DO this, but not think this, or accept this, perform any other actions regarding this.

If I had said "I would do only this for you", then I would mean that I would do THIS but would do nothing else, which is still not what I meant.

What I should have said was that "I would do this for you only", which sounds not only precise but pleasantly archaic. How sad that the recipient of my text was presented with barbarous nonsense instead of a tiny loving poem.

The Great Grammar Rebellion

What is up with America? What is up with America putting periods inside quotation marks? Let's say I want to write a sentence that ends with the title of my poem entitled "Ode to Jennifer." I'm supposed to put the period inside the quotation marks, but clearly this defies the entire respective purposes of the quotation marks and the period!

Any reasonable person can see that the quotation marks are there to show that "Ode to Jennifer" is the title of the poem. Therefore, nothing should be inside the quotations marks except the title of the poem.

Any reasonable person can see that the period is there to show the end of the sentence. Therefore, nothing should come after the period, because that would mean the sentence had not ended after all. It's like coloring outside the lines.

But our stupid grammar rules - apparently begun around 1776 - state that we should violate the poet's intentions by adding a gruesome period to the title of his poem, thus trampling on the poem's delicate balance and beauty. And these rules also state that we should make a mockery of the sentence by continuing the sentence after so carefully ending it. Not to mention the inexplicable disrespect to the period, of which have made a firm request that we so obviously never intended in the first place.

I refuse to follow these rules. So begins my manifesto. And so begins the great grammar rebellion.

New Contest Already Won

I really hate those stupid chat abbreviations. Who has the time or interest to memorize 300 different obscure abbreviations? And all the ones signifying amusement are super girly; no self-respecting man would ever use LOL or LMAO or BMGWL or even just HaHaHa. The only chat abbreviation I approve of is 404, which means "I haven't a clue." It is a very funny joke that was funny the first time and never, ever grows old, just like all those hilarious bumper stickers that you see every day upon day for years and years and years. Sometimes just for nastiness and spite I type in some new abbreviation with my own private meaning, and of course everyone pretends they know what it means just like they pretend all the time for the real abbreviations.

Every once in a while some brave, honest soul takes the challenge. For example, while chatting with the Great Trevor, he interpreted PMAOTFL to mean "Peeing Myself While Others Take Flying Leaps". Even though he stupidly screwed up one of the letters, this magnificent phrase won the intrepretation contest before I even considered starting one! Hail, Great Trevor! [Ed. Note: Actually this is the site's mistake, not the Great Trevor's - see above]

I propose a new way to signify laughter in chat, and I have made it as super girly as possible. Note that "LOL" and its ilk provide a means of laughing, but not of laughing while simultaneously talking! How can fat, sweaty men act like nervous pubescent girls on a date without this capability? HTML format solves this problem with three lingering licks of a lamb's tail:

If all you want to do is laugh, then just use a single made-up HTML tag:
<giggle>
<snort>
<chortle>

But if you really want to bust it out and talk at the same time, then enclose your text within closing and ending tags:
<giggle> You're so funny! </giggle>
<bubbles> Stop! You make my sides hurt! Stop! </bubbles>

Creative Tip 001

Here is a royalty-free love poem you can use with your girlfriend. I wrote it for a friend of mine to help with his shattered love life. Just substitute the name of your beloved:

Ode to Jennifer

Your cold creamy milk fills me.
I have udders too.

Beautiful Poem

Yesterday at the Alamo Drafthouse in Austin, the guy presenting the weekly midnight horror movie (Parents) couldn't remember that night's dinner specials. He ended up coming out with a beautiful little couplet, which must be shared:

if you get a pizza, you get a free something
and if you get something else, you get something free

You must say it aloud to truly appreciate this gem! And what a big laugh he got from all 200 people present!

I sat there for the longest time marvelling at the symmetry of his impromptu poem: In lieu of rhyming, he reversed the two words at the end of the line, but it resulted in much the same effect.

Also notice that though each line has 12 syllables, the first line has a 6-6 phrase division while the second line has a 7-5 division, resulting in a pleasing little punch at the end:

The first two 6 phrases set you up for a certain rhythm.
This rhythm makes the following 7 phrase seem a bit suspenseful, as if someone were drawing their arm back for an elaborate roundhouse.
Finally, two syllables are shaved off for the final 5 phrase, suprising you with a quick jab instead of a roundhouse.
All this fits neatly within the overall 12-12 structure.

In Defense of Britney Spears

I never understood men and their scorn for sluts. A woman being kind enough to gift us with her body is something it seems we would want to encourage. Instead we discourage it by hurling as an insult a word that should be a delicious thank you.

I present to you Britney Spears, a woman who dedicated the prime years of her life to sculpting a majestic body and presenting it to us in an endlessly pleasing succession of images. I for one am grateful. Why all the scorn and vituperation?

The latest call to arms from you braying, judgemental asses out there is that she is a horrible mother. We've spent the last several months peering lewdly from the bushes outside her house, tremblingly brushing aside the curtains in her bedroom. How many of us could withstand that kind of scrutiny without ending up as a most wanted poster in the local supermarket?

I propose that an appropriate response would run along these lines: "Well now, many of us have almost killed our babies, and besides, she was once really hot, and she shared that hotness with us. Let it go." If you don't have the humanity to come to this reasoning naturally, consider that it would encourage gorgeous women YOU know to display their bodies in hope of mercy during their own fumbling motherhoods.

All this reminds me of the sad saga of Dan Quayle, who although really not bright enough to be Vice President (and was a Republican to boot!), never would have stood a chance anyway once the press attached en masse their tiny little teeth and wiggly little tongues to his stiff conservative ass. Everywhere he went, an unprecedented horde of hyenas followed him, holding its collective carrion breath for the next minute miscue. Has a VP ever before or after received such attention? Or been under such pressure? See the infamous spelling bee "potatoe" incident, in which the VP, relying on a queue card from the presenters, miscorrected a 12-year-old's correct spelling. The incident provided several years of sport for Democrats and the media, who always conveniently left out the presenters' part in the story. See Dan Quayle's version of the event.

However, while defending Dan Quayle, it would be unfair to the world if I did not rehash a few of his more famous bobbles:

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What a waste it is to lose one's mind. Or not to have a mind is being very wasteful. How true that is. [scrambling "a mind is a terrible thing to waste" in front of the United Negro College Fund]

I have made good judgements in the Past. I have made good judgements in the Future.

We are ready for any unforeseen event that may or may not occur.

We're going to have the best-educated American people in the world.

The Holocaust was an obscene period in our nation's history. I mean in this century's history. But we all lived in this century. I didn't live in this century.

Rotten Assembly

Friday, July 14, 2006

Precious Jewels, Precious Links

I Take My Hat Off to a Web Site

Thursday, July 13, 2006