The Weather and Us

I'm home for the holidays, which means that I've traveled from a land of rapidly-shifting weather (Denver) to a place where the weather rapidly shifts to terrible (Northern Illinois). Last night, my family and I were going to have a nice dinner at a local Thai restaurant some 8 miles away. A great fog had come upon the land, so we cancelled the excursion.

This morning, I set out from the farm to head into Chicago for a visit with an old roommate and some other friends. The radio barked on and on about visibility being 1/4 mile. I put it at about 200 feet! It was horrifying. The creek that runs through our property was nearly overflowing the bridge. The hour-long trip to the suburban trains was unusually long - I couldn't go much over 50 mph. It was like everything, air and land both, had turned into water.

It got me to thinking about how important "talking about the weather" really is to us. It's a cliche, really, when you think about it. Asking about the weather, making fun of it, praising it, etc., are all vital parts of how we have made, make, and will continue to make conversation.

We make fun of how we "talk about the weather," but are such disparaging remarks simply a cover for not having anything else to talk about, or is it something that we have to do? I'm betting on the latter.

My guess is that if you look back far enough, to the Epic of Gilgamesh or something similarly cuneiform, you'll find somebody gabbing about the weather. It's always available for dialogue. And since it is an unmovable, non-responding thing, it is frightfully easy for us to deride it or compliment it as we see fit; it can't talk back and we can't change it. So we'll continue, on and on, until we either find a way to "fix" the weather or we get our heads on straight and talk about the important things. The weather is an easy target - we need to set our sights higher.

weather, feelings, language

Trivial Pursuits?

So I teamed up with some friends of mine from the Korbel School to compete in the first ever Institute of International Education Denver WorldQuest trivia competition. It was sweet, not least of all because my team won. Actually, we tied with the IIE's own team, but they were just doing it for fun. Plus, they had three Fulbright scholars from three different continents! We won Premier memberships and a VIP happy hour. Sweet!

The questions ranged from identifying Angela Merkel to figuring out which countries DON'T border China. The last round was "World Languages." I got excited because my undergrad work was in language and linguistics and such. One of the questions asked us to identify the number of different ways of expressing the Japanese language. I knew before I saw the multiple choice that it was 4. Not only that, but I knew that they were called Kanji, Katakana, Hiragana and Romaji. We got the question right, but it left me wondering: Why on earth do I know that?

I don't speak Japanese, and probably never will (it's about 8th place in my list of languages to learn). I've always viewed the acquisition of knowledge (even the "trivial") as something like the Boy Scout motto. Be prepared. I guess I keep hoping that one day I'll bump into some eccentric millionaire who's desperately searching for someone to explain to him the importance of the Convivencia or the history of Ireland or the distance from the earth to the sun or the number of languages in Papua New Guinea or the way to make a teabag float in midair.

If I never meet that eccentric millionaire, then are all these bits of information, some a mile wide and an inch deep and some and inch wide and a mile deep, really worth learning?

Everyone knows everything

I've been thinking a bit about social media, the internet, Twitter, hyperconnectivity, Facebook, et al. and it occurs to me that all of these things are allowing us to learn a lot about a lot of different things. We are becoming more well-informed. As we learn to process the endless streams of data coming in through our computers and Blackberries and cells, is it possible that we'll grow our brains as well?

I have done some study in linguistics (undergrad), and the link between language/information and brain size is an interesting bit of science that we haven't been able to figure out just yet. Did the need for more complex language make the brain swell, or did the brain swelling enable more complex language? Chicken or egg?

If we are evolving to handle massive data streams, fine. But I'm wondering where this new "knowledge" fits into the grand scheme of things? What's the difference between being "smart" and being "well-informed?"

 Technorati Tags: future, language, technology, linguistics

Espanol y Turkce

So my degree program here at the Korbel School involves proficiency in a foreign language. When I came out here, I just figured that it would be Turkish, since that's what I had spent the most time working on when I was at Aurora University. OK, now that was about 14 months ago and I still haven't perfected my Turkish. Is this a bad thing? Yes and no.

I've decided to switch over and take my proficiency exam in Spanish. I figure that even though for my purposes it is the less attractive option, it will have to suffice. You see, when I got out to Denver, I started working on Latin again made yet another stab at Greek. Midway through the last school year, I found some free Arabic classes on campus, and even got a little teeny tiny bit of Hebrew. Turkish got pushed aside. Oddly enough, I feel that my Spanish is better than usual, due in large part to interactions with Espanol-proficient folks. I'm linguistically greedy, I guess, and if it's useful to be functionally illiterate in six different languages, then bully for me!

I take notes in class with four different alphabets, but if I could pick one and stick with it, I think we'd all be a lot better off. As my old boss used to say, "Knowledge a mile across but an inch deep is dangerous."

Ανάργυροι

The title of this post is Ανάργυροι. In Roman letters, it's anargyroi. We are presented with the root of arg, which near as I can make sense of, relates to silver. The an on the front of it denotes a negative, or withoutness. The bit at the end, oi, means that we're talking about a group of something that relates directly to the silver-root.

Anargyroi - Those without silver

It's an old title for Saints Cosmas and Damian, who refused payment for their work in healthcare. They brought healing and solace and asked for nothing in return. How nice. Good piece from Matthew 10:8.

Δωρεάν ελάβετε, δωρεάν δότε - Freely ye have received; freely give.



Here's a cheerful picture of Cosmas and Damian
getting beheaded for espousing socialist health
policy.

Iblis

I really do prefer to use the name "Lucifer" when referring to the Prince of Darkness. It has such a sinuous ring to it:

LOOS-IH-FUR

For being the "epicenter of evil," the name itself means "light-bringer." The name Lucy is directly related. In the original Greek, it's heosphoros, or herperus, or Ἓσπερος, which translates to "dawn-bearer." Can we then assume that Lucifer is so named because he brings light, and why would that be a bad thing? The obvious correlation is with Prometheus, who brought the "gift" of fire, and thusly, civilization, to ancient man. Did bringing light, i.e. civilization, technology, modernism, etc. to the world cheapen it? This is a question best left to others.

I prefer to view Lucifer not so much as the "bad guy," but as something more approaching the following story, retold with great care by the late, awesome Joseph Campbell:

One of the most amazing images of love that I know is Persian – a mystical Persian representation as Satan as the most loyal lover of God. You will have heard the old legend of how, when God created the angels, he commanded them to pay worship to no one but himself; but then, creating man, he commanded them to bow in reverence to this most noble of his works, and Lucifer refused – because, we are told, of his pride. However, according to this Muslim reading of his case, it was rather because he loved and adored God so deeply and intensely that he could not bring himself to bow before anything else, and because he refused to bow down to something that was of less superiority than him. (Since he was made of fire, and man from clay.) And it was for that that he was flung into Hell, condemned to exist there forever, apart from his love.

What a sad tale. I can see Lucifer's attorney (of course, lawyers) pleading his case, "His only crime was that he loved too much!" Whatever the case, it's all complicated by the cultural baggage that certain names carry. I could never get away with naming my child Lucifer (light-bringer), or even Damian (old saint of free medical care).

The name of Lucifer is sullied because of its association with ineffable evil, Damian with an evil little kid in those Omen movies.

Yeah! إيمينيم

التفاح يقاوم الغازات والامساك وحامض البول, اما قشوره فانها تقاوم النقرس والروماتيزم المزمن والحصاة في الكلى والمرارة لذا يجب اكله طريا او مطبوخا بقشوره. وهو مرطب ومسهل ونقيعه يفيد في الامراض الحادة والالتهابية ويخفف من الام الحمى ومفعوله مفيد في الكبد والكليتين والمثانة وضد التهاب الامعاء بغليه مدة عشرة دقائق مع قليل من جذر العرقسوس . والتفاح مفيد ايضا في تهدئة السعال وتسهيل افرازات البلغم كما هو مفيد قبل وبعد العمليات الجراحية, وفي حالة التهاب الاعصاب الحاد والمزمن والوهن القلبي وصيانة الاوعية الدموية وهو ضد نخر الاسنان ، وهو مفيد للتغلب على الحموضات التي تهاجم الجسم بعد سن الاربعين وذلك بأكل ثلاث تفاحات في اليوم ، كما يقضي على التسمم الشتوي الناتج عن الاكل الثقيل الدسم من لحم وشحم وغيره.

Since They Wanna Know

In case it hasn't been gazed upon: http://www.breakaleg.tv/video/2007/7/25/the-pilot-part-1.html - Yes, it's that good, and it just gets better.

It occurred to me that I should really be listening to more rap. This is, of course, difficult given the recent loss of the ENTIRE COLLECTION of my music. I just happened to hear a few tracks from Obie Trice's last CD, and it reminded me of just how good he might be. Of course, Eminem tends to attract people like that to him.

I have a thing for underground hip-hop stuff like Bus Driver and many of the Chicago groups, but even mainstream acts tend to surprise. Take Clipse, for instance. "Hell Hath No Fury" was a tour-de-force, and the fact that I heard NPR reviewing it favorably only lends credence to the abilities of Pusha-T and Malice. I present "Ain't Cha," which besides making me want to rock back and forth in my seat, also contains this wondrous first verse:

Rugers spare I drapes, baking pies, baking cake
Hustling them E's and that C's and that H
While you probably talking frantic on the tape
N***az in the hood ain't tryna to hear "Man it was a mistake"
To call you a bitch, not a bandit at ya wake
Epitaph reading how much damage you could take
While I'm on the boat with ya bitch, salmon on the plate
I know why you liked her, the head it was great
Loving these bezels sets, change with no space
86 karats, you know how much digging in the planet this could take?
Patent leather BAPEs...Uh, uh! Closet like planet of the BAPE!
Monkey see, monkey do, monkeys following in place
Like I'm living in an episode of Planet of the Apes
You're watching the evolution of one of rap's greats
You n***az tryna take my place? Neva happen...

Naturally, some of this might not be exactly as it was meant to be seen, but these lyrics-sets are often heard rather than straight from the group. If you look closely, you can see what I'm talking about. Pusha-T actually raps from the end of the line. And it's all about the long a sound, of course, but I point special attention to the line about digging. Wow.

Anywho, I'm sure that this track (just like every Clipse song) has something to do with hustling coke. But seriously, this is some good stuff. I end this with a little bit of one of my faves, who managed to absolutely slay one of my other faves on his own track:

Since I'm in a position to talk to these kids and they listen
I ain't no politician but I'll kick it with 'em a minute
Cause see they call me a menace; and if the shoe fits I'll wear it
But if it don't, then y'all'll swallow the truth grin and bear it
Now who's these king of these rude ludicrous lucrative lyrics
Who could inherit the title, put the youth in hysterics
Usin his music to steer it, sharin his views and his merits
But there's a huge interference - they're sayin you shouldn't hear it
Maybe it's hatred I spew, maybe it's food for the spirit
Maybe it's beautiful music I made for you to just cherish
But I'm debated disputed hated and viewed in America
as a motherfuckin drug addict - like you didn't experiment?
Now now, that's when you start to stare at who's in the mirror
and see yourself as a kid again, and you get embarrased
And I got nothin to do but make you look stupid as parents
You fuckin do-gooders - too bad you couldn't do good at marriage!
(Ha ha!) And do you have any clue what I had to do to get here I don't
think you do so stay tuned and keep your ears glued to the stereo
Cause here we go - he's {*Jigga joint Jigga-chk-Jigga*}
And I'm the sinister, Mr. Kiss-My-Ass it's just a RENEGADE!

Well It's 50 Cups of Coffee and You Know It's On

I was reading a blog earlier today; something chronicling the Long War.

There was an Iraqi flag on the sidebar linking to somewhere else.

I read the words in the middle; it was the takbir (Allahu akbar).

After a second or two, my mind registered the fact that I had read the Arabic script.

Martin had told me that learning to read Arabic is like riding a bike.

I think he was right, because it felt just like the first time I took off without training wheels.

Granted, I've still got half of the alphabet and all of the diacriticals to learn, but this is a start.

Once I finish that, I'll be functionally illiterate in a handful of languages.

Great!

An Ash Wednesday Post

An excerpt from the soon-to-be-released memoirs of Jesus Christ "Just Do It: In Memory of Me":

So Jesus the Christ and the Twelve Apostles (or maybe there were five, or thirty-two; who knows?) are lounging around having dinner after a long day spent trying to convince the people of Israel that it is totally cool to be kind to other folks. Peter turns to Jesus and says, “Hey, Yeshua! What’s the difference between a Pharisee and a bucket of donkey shit?”

Jesus looks at Peter and says, “I don’t know: what?”

Peter says, “The bucket!”

And Jesus the Christ let out a big ‘ol belly laugh and slapped Peter on the back. Oh, he was laughin’ so hard that he was cryin’ and his nose started runnin’. Of course the other apostles couldn’t help but laugh, too. Now this went on for minutes; there would be points of silence where they tried to catch their breath only to blow it out explosively in yet another round of gut-pain-inducing giggles. And when they were all done laughing and had finished drying their eyes, Jesus the Christ looked upon them and said, “You guys are great.”


"Just Do It: In Memory of Me" will be released May 2008 by Harper/Collins. It details the life and times of Jesus (Savior of the World, Who Takes Away the Sins of the World, Happy Are Those Who Are Called To His Supper), his family, his friends, and especially his time in India. Available for pre-order at Amazon.com.