The Smartest Man on 8th Avenue

The Worlds of Jack Vanth

2012-02-08T11:32:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I did some back-of-the-napkin exercises (with the aid of Wikipedia) related to my Teylothia 'verse. When I created it, the Pluto-Charon system was (to quote a favorite series) "all alone in the night." This isolation required that I create a string of O'Neill stations at the Lagrange points. I named them thematically after Greek words beginning with "far." Now, however, this setup is no longer feasible (I'm not referring to the space station design, which was always a stylistic choice). If the Orcus-Vanth system were the only other system in the classic Kuiper Belt, I could have reduced the five stations to four and rested. There are, however, an abundance of minor planets which occupy what I once called "Pluto-orbit." The name "Hadean League," however can remain, since IAU naming rules still allow it to be appropriate. The minor planets under the (provisional) version of the Hadean League, in order of perihelion, are:
1. Pluto (29.65 AU)
2. Orcus (30.27 AU)
3. Makemake (38.509 AU)
4. Ixion (39.68 AU)
5. Varuna (40.494 AU)
6. Quaoar (41.69 AU)
7. Haumea (43.132 AU)
That makes seven worlds, rather than my original six. Sedna (76 AU) is too far out, even at perihelion. Eris is a toss-up. It is certainly within the sphere of the Hadean League at perihelion (37.77 AU), but at aphelion (97.56 AU) it is much farther out. Perhaps that is the key to Eridian conflict with the Hadean League. Scenario: the Eridians are proud of being big and different; the Plutonians are proud of being the first-discovered, but resentful of the demotion; the Orceans think the Plutonians are full of BS, and prefer to side with the Eridians; the Eridians, however, have almost as much contempt for the Orceans and the other Hadean League members as they do for Plutonians. The Quaoarites (Quaoarians) are stereotyped as prudish and judgmental, the Ixionidae are back-stabbing, ungrateful philanderers, the Varunans are good upright people, the Makemakeans are the most attractive, and Haumeans are short, fertile, intensely loyal people.

If the chronology of the Teylothia 'verse remains the same, Sedna is at about 160 AU, or a journey of over three decades by my original reckoning, in which Luna to Pluto is a five-year journey.

Which Way Which?

2012-02-07T16:21:00.000-08:00

Now that I've finally reached the chapters in Judd that deal with more interesting grammar, I am much happier.

A monolingual English-speaker (aka "American") might not realize this, but the structure of the relative clause in English (who/whom/whose/which/what) is remarkably free. English allows nearly component of a clause to become the pivot on which the subordinate clause hinges. Other languages, such as Biblical Hebrew, have only one form; thus the English sentence "I saw the fish which the man caught" becomes "Saw I the fish which the man caught it." Biblical Hebrew's construction is fairly simply compared to the hoops some languages jump through: languages that have cases but insist that the relative particle be in one case (nominative or ergative, depending on the overall linguistic structure) can twist themselves into knots if the pivotal noun is not the actual subject of both sentences.

Hawaiian uses a relative particle, but is not a fan of relative clauses. In many domains, places where one could use a relative particle prefer a particle associated with the main clause. There are, however, three places where a relative particle is mandatory. The first case:
Na mea ana i ike ai. The things which he saw.
A rougher, but perhaps more illuminating, translation would be "The things of him (inalienable), past see which." The subject of the subordinate clause ("he") cannot stand its normal main clause position directly following the verb within the subordinate clause, since the relative particle ai is occupying that slot; nor can it take its normal main clause position in the main clause, since the noun phrase na mea occupies that position. A relative particle, however, is useless without a noun or pronoun to relate to, so the subject of the subordinate clause ("he") transforms and becomes an a-class genitive modifying the subject of the main clause. A-class genitives and possessives seem to be popular choices for grammatical transformations in Hawaiian.
The second case:
Eia ka mea i make ai na kanaka. Here is the cause from which the men died.
The rough translation would be "Here the cause (mea is a remarkably flexible word, meaning person, thing, or cause) past die which the men." Ai is used here because it replaces means, cause, or instrument. I am not entirely sure why ai precedes na kanaka - perhaps it is part of the verb complex, or perhaps the relative particle needs to be as close to its antecedent as possible.
The third case:
I ka la a makou i hiki mai ai. On the day when we came.
A rough translation would be "On the day when we (plural, exclusive) past come away-from-speaker which."The prepositional phrase i ka la has been fronted and its position occupied by ai. The conflation of time and place, when and where, is so common in language that I wonder if it is not a fundamentally human way of understanding the world. It is worth noting that the subject of the subordinate clause, makou, here precedes its verb, i hiki, even though the default order of the original sentence would be I hiki mai makou i ka la. A different word order in subordinate clauses from main clauses is quite common in the world's languages, but I am not certain why *I ka la a i hiki mai ai makou would be a challenge to a native Hawaiian speaker. It might mean something slightly different, or it might just be one of those things about a language that a tyro must learn.

If these three examples are typical (and I cannot imagine why one would use atypical examples in such a small sample in a teaching grammar), I would not be surprised if ai batted for the verbal team rather that the nominal one, insofar as any Hawaiian word has a firm verbal/nominal distinction; the possibility of replacing ai with the gerund-making particle ana supports this idea. If this were the case, then the three sentences have the following rough translations: "His things seen-which", "Here the cause died-which the men," and "On the day when we (but not you) came-away-from-speaker-which." Additionally, if ai were verbal in this way, it also seems to trigger a loss of valency, changing the verb from transitive to intransitive.

St James Art Show

2012-02-03T11:58:00.000-08:00

This Saturday, I attended an art show at St James Episcopal for some very local artists. St James is a pretty little church in its own right, unlike the nuclear plant of St Mary's downtown. It has stained glass windows and dark wooden pews which evoke the comfort of a small traditional church rather than the grandness of Grace Cathedral or the large-university-class feel of some evangelical churches. The plethora of wooden furniture makes the church space more elegant, but also heavier to move. The liturgical space was transformed into a visual spectacle that would have made an Orthodox architect proud.

The three featured artists were Patrick Vennari, John Foster, and Pat Meyer, all of them congregants. Foster practiced the art of what he called keigo, the juxtaposition of image and text, which can include Japanese poetic forms. When I looked up the term, I only found information on Japanese honorifics, so perhaps this is a homophone or perhaps actually a Chinese or Korean term. In general I find it diffiult to correlate East Asian poetic forms and the English language.

Patrick Vennari presented a variety of paintings, including one of a restroom in the park. One would thinki that the restroom would not be a suitable object for painting, but a judiciouscombination of colors and the natural beauty of the park transformed the watercloset into a beautiful watercolor.

Several of the paintings were produced using a procss called giclee, which uses special printers and backing to make photographs seem like paintings. I am reading up on the process, but there is much about visual art that I do not understand. A lot of the giclee images were of local landscapes, and many of them made me yearn for the end of the rain so that I could take a walk out to Ocean Beach.

Pat Meyer makes collages. I don't know where the line is between fiddling and art, but she is on the side of art. I would compare her to Dave McKean, but I'm sure a "serious" artist would take the comparison as an insult. Unlike McKean, her art doesn't give nightmares.

The art show was a success. People mingled. Many paintings and collages sold and there was talk of inviting other artists to do another show. If any artists are interested, Vennari took a film of the show which soon will be on the Saint James website.

My Forgotten Universe

2012-01-30T17:10:00.000-08:00

I was so happy about the success of my science fiction book club that I rented some more episodes of The Big Bang Theory. As I was watching, the Asimovian currents continued to percolate in my brain, along with a recurrent nagging born from a lecture I attended at the Commonwealth Club. Then I remembered I had written three stories in what is generally referred to the Teylothia Universe inside my head - I have several now, all structurally different, including the Haven Universe (one finished story, one fragment), the Semiramis Universe (two finished stories, several fragments), and the Fortunate Islands Universe (no stories per se, but instead one two-and-a-half-years post-by-post world-changing adventure on CONCULTURE). I went to one of my drawers and removed a translucent blue folder that contained my Branson Senior Project and related material in 1994. Three of the stories were in the TU, although the set was different from that which I remembered. Certainly, In His Own Land, set on the namesake O'Neill colony, was there (the colonies of the 'verse were based on '70s science fiction). The second story, X, set on the Teylothia's fellow Hadean (NB: in-universe term) colony of Telebios, was there also. The third story was not the twenty-page fragment (all political dialogue - perhaps I'd been reading Dune) set on Pluto, that I had thought. It was a post-by-post story, Third's the Charmer , written on VEBLEN, set on yet another Hadean colony (Telemachus), featuring an murder charge against a member of a yet another colony (Telephorus). Given the set up of the colony ring structure, that leaves me with two options for the last corner of the hexagon: another O'Neill colony with a name starting with Tele- or the dwarf planet system of Orcus and Vanth. I'm tempted to "complete the set" and leave Orcus-orbit for a different theme. It would be easy to expand the 'verse to include the new dwarf planets in a natural fashion, but I still have one colony space left in Pluto orbit before I need to expand.

So far I have only skimmed the stories. I need to re-read them for several reasons. I need to examine the style. Although I have a timeline for In His Own Land, I need to prepare a rough timeline/summary of events. It really is a 'verse, so the interactions are significant, and my original notes are long gone. I also need to brush up on the technological terms and "current" social structure of the 'verse - I haven't calculated it precisely, but a cursory glance at birth dates and vaguely expressed ages suggests that Third's the Charmer occurs almost a century after the events of In His Own Land.

There were two other stories in the packet, Cogito and Those Who Wait. Cogito is a hologram story (written before Voyager aired), and might fit well with one possible development of the Teylothia Universe. It would be a dark development, but then the whole 'verse seems to lean that way - so far there have been incidents of suicide, fanaticism, murder charges, and botched experiments, and mentions of vandalism, promiscuity, and potential political unrest. Enjisi, the protagonist (and I remember Mrs. Moore disputing the term) of Those Who Wait, are on a wholly different scale, and may a different 'verse altogether. She (Enjisi, not Mrs. Moore) may require a different tack.

Calvinist Confession

2012-01-24T10:25:00.000-08:00

I relented and read the latest Robot book authorized by the Asimov estate - although its presence on the Mechanics Institute Library new acquistions shelf might have been a factor. I, Robot: to protect is the first in a trilogy featuring Susan Calvin. This volume's author is Mickey Zucker Reichert (I do not know if the plan is similar to the Foundation series additions, in which each volume had a separate author). Prequels in particular activate my skepticism gland, since predetermination can sap the suspense from a story, or even worse, make additions that violate the ethos of the pre-existing corpus (I'm looking at you, midi-chlorians!).

In this case, however, the plot and background feel like a much-needed updating of Asimovian history of robotics - he admitted and rued many of the errors in conception that he made before the invention of the computer field. The reset of the timeline does not bother me - there is a little-known timeline in Let's Buy Jupiter and Other Stories, an admittedly pale imitation of Heinlein's Future History, which featured a Solar System-centricity and the presence of numerous alien species, and is thus fundamentally incompatible with the Robot-Empire-Foundation universe established later. Compared to that contrast, the change of chronology in I, Robot: to protect is a soft reset, even if it demolishes my favorite conceit that Susan Calvin (b. 1984) is in my same age set and intellectual impi. The temporal reset unfortunately will not discourage some fans from trying to shoehorn the new timeline into the Robot-Empire-Foundation series. I, on the other hand, regard it as a new timeline.

I do not reach these conclusion on Calvin's birthdate alone. The modus operandi of to protect seems to be incorporate and tighten the various strands of the original stories as much as possible, as reboots of a franchise often do. Susan lives with her father, John Calvin (an Asimovian joke indeed), a roboticist at U.S. Robots and Mechanical Men, who bears a resemblance in his eating habits to Stephen Byerley. Susan already possesses the waspish tongue that was one of her first character traits. She is, of course, plain, but no so much that all men overlook her. The Society for Humanity is present and performing its dramatic function as an all-purpose extreme protest group. The original profession of Susan is psychologist, which is a logical ex post facto extrapolation, but the hospital in which she works contains several threads from the short stories. The nanobots (did Asimov coin that term too?) are deployed differently than poor Mike the nanobot, and Nate the hospital robot seems to fulfill the role of romantic rival and enabler of Susan's (as yet) mild robophilia, more Herbie than Lenny. Even Susan's interest in the oppositie sex has precedent in the short stories, although there it remained unrequited.

Most of the action in to protect establishes Susan's intelligence and personality, and creates a mystery of nanorobot and human interaction for following volumes. Reichardt, thankfully, writes dialogues that is a little less flat than Asimov - in short stories, Asimov's prose works well, but it becomes tedious in longer works (such as Robots and Empire). In short, it accomplishes the fundamental tasks of the intial volume of a trilogy: establish the main character, the main conflict or mystery, and entice the reader to return.

Hawaiian Grammar Review, Part 2

2012-01-17T11:22:00.000-08:00

Judd'spseudo-Latin approach leads him to construct a table pronominaldeclensions. This table is limited to the singular; at this point Ican only speculate that the duals and plurals do not have “cases.”Judd might have said that the dual and plural forms in all “cases”are identical, congruent with the nineteenth century belief thatEnglish was a marginal case language because the pronouns distinguishsubject, object, and possessive.

	First Singular	Second Singular	Third Singular
Nominative	owau au	oe	oia ia
Genitive	a'u o'u	au ou	ana ona
Possessive	ka'u ko'u kuu	kau kou	kana kona
Dative	na'u no'u	nau nou	nana nona
Accusative	ia'u io'u nei/la	ia oe i ou nei/la	ia ia i ona la
Ablative 1 (Agent/Means)	ma o'u nei/la	ma ou nei/la	ma ona nei/la
Ablative 2 (Separation)	mai o'u aku/mai	mai ou aku/mai	mai ona aku/mai
Ablative 3 (Accompaniment)	me au	me oe	me ia
Ablative 4 (Agent with Passive Verb)	e au	e oe	e ia

TheGenitive, Possessive, Dative, and Accusative cases are conflations ofthe simple prepositions a/o,ka/ko,and na/nowith a following pronoun, with the exception of the 'affectionate'possessive first singular form kuu.The alienable/inalienable distinction percolates through these forms.The separation of Genitive and Possessive is a marginal butunderstandable feature of Indo-European languages (my/mine,vester/vestri/vobis).The surprising feature is the four types of ablative, since the firsttwo types are merely a simple preposition plus an alienable Genitive,and the last two are a simple preposition plus the nominative form(nei andla, akuand maiare particles called directionals, and are not limited to thesepronominal structures).

Prepositions, in all languages have both simple and compound forms. The compound forms in Hawaiian have this structure: ma/i- + a grammaticalized noun + o (the alienable genitive). This structure is, in essence, no difference from the English compound preposition because of, which is derived transparently from the phrase be the cause of. The diminution of the locative forms from three to two is not surprising, since the Ablative (mai) is always the first to be sacrificed on the altar of Simplicity. The usual choice of o rather than a as the connecting preposition is logical; if an object (e.g., a spearhead) that is inside you must be specified to be inside you, it is probably not an inherent part of your body! If it is an inherent part of your body, you could just use a possessive. Thus, Ke ike nei au i ka pahi maloko o ka maka a ke kanaka, "I see the knife in the eye of the man," in which the knife does not belong in the eye, but the eye is an intrinsic part of the man.

The article in Hawaiian has two allophones (variants), ka and ke. The determination of which one to use differs in Judd from modern sources, but that could be the result of local variation; the differences have never caused me any problems in identifying the article. I have laid out Judd's distribution below, in which # indicates the beginning of the noun, and C indicates that a noun begins with a consonant (except k or p), which receive their own entries. Most entries in the first column use only one form, although three use both, either for euphony or semantic distinction.

	Ka	Ke
#a	x	x
#e	x
#i	x
#o	x	x
#u	x
#C	x
#k		x
#p	x	x

Hawaiian articles come in three flavors: definite (the), semi-definite (a certain, some), and indefinite (a).These articles have only two grammatical numbers, singular and plural. Do you notice that something is missing? In languages with dual number (such as Greek and Hebrew), the dual is often absent outside of the pronominal system and the plural provides for singular and dual. The definite singular articles, ka and ke, you have already met. The definite plural is na, which occurs the name Na Pali, the Cliffs, a particularly scenic royal preserve on Kaua'i.
The semi-definite plurals are kekahi, kahi, hookahi, and wahi. All of these forms are based on the increasing compound of wahi. One of the compound prepositions is kahi, "there where," a conflation of ka wahi. kekahi prefixes the definite article, while hookahi adds a primarily verbal prefix.
The indefinite singular article is he; there are four different indefinite plural articles, the distinctions of which Judd does not describe, consistent with his purpose of instilling basic comprehension of the language. They must have different connotations, however, because the example sentences use a variety, both alone and in combination.

	Singular	Plural
Definite	ka ke	na
Semi-Definite	kekahi kahi hookahi wahi
Indefinite	he	mau poe pae puu

Hawaiian Grammar Review, Part 1

2012-01-11T10:01:00.000-08:00

In anticipation of my upcoming trip to Hawaii, I powered through the chapters of Judd's Hawaiian Grammar up to the point where I stopped last time. If I were planning to speak Hawaiian, I would not have done so and would have switched to some modern online course; my interest, however, is more grammatical and historical, and in the historical records the macron is manqué and the 'okina is optional. Judd will serve my purpose well.

Here is what I have done: I have summarized the grammatical information of the first fourteen lessons in sensible chunks.

First, the pronouns. There are three grammatical numbers (singular, dual, plural), three grammatical persons (first, second, third), and two degrees of clusivity (inclusive, exclusive). I have concocted some tricks to remember the pronominal distinctions. The plurals all end in -kou; the duals except olua (2nd person dual) end in -aua. What about clusivity? An inclusive first person pronoun includes the addressee, whereas an exclusive one excludes the addressee. The easiest way to remember the difference in Hawaiian is that the exclusive pronouns begin with m- for 'me', since the function of the exclusive pronoun is to remind the addressee that he is not part of this 'we'.

Secondly, the verbal structure so far. The pseudo-Latin analysis rings false, but I wonder how much of that analysis was born of ignorance, and how much of convenience. The indicative present is formed by ke V nei N, where V is the verb and N is a noun or pronoun; thus ke hana nei au means "I work" The indicative past is formed by i V N: i hana au, "I worked." The indicative perfect is formed by ua V N: ua hana au, "I have worked". The indicative pluperfect tense is formed by ua V e N: ua hana e au, "I had worked." The indicative future tense is formed by e V au: e hana au, "I will work."

Thirdly, the prepositions. Given the Verb-Subject-Object structure of Hawaiian, prepositions are expected. There is a three-way distinction in the locative prepositions: mai, "from", ma, "at", and i, "towards." The preposition i also functions as a direct object marker. me means both "with" and "and". e is the preposition used for the agent of a passive verb (I suspect that this is a misreading of ergativity, but I have chosen my sourcebook). The remaining prepositions, a/o, ka/ko, and na/no, have alternating forms depending on alienability. a indicates inalienability, o alienability; thus kana papale means "her hat (made by her)", an origin which cannot be changed, but kona papale means "her hat (purchased by her)", a condition which could change if she decided to sell the hat or give it to her friend as a present.

The substantial 'declension' table for singular pronouns, compound prepositions, and the difficulties of articular allophony are subjects for Part 2 of this review.

Calvinist Psychology

2012-01-09T17:45:00.000-08:00

I have been rereading The Rest of the Robots (a combination of I, Robot and Robot Visions), the authoritative volume of Asimov's robot stories with which I fell in love as a young nerd - I did choose I, Robot for my own book club, after all. I ignore the robot-themed boos not written by Asimov rather than angrily reject them, as so many fans do and thus set back the reputations of science fiction fans everywhere. I also recently read Science Fiction: What It's All About by Sam J. Lundwall, which I bought in early December from a peddlar in the Mission. While it was interesting to read about works which I consider classics described as new and exciting works, its primary contribution to this post is its characterization of golden age science fiction and golden age science fiction fans. I have read many criticisms of Asimov, some undeserved, including his inability to write women. I do not dispute the truth of this assertion, but he did write around his deficiencies. I could not avoid thinking about this while reading The Rest of Robots, in which Susan Calvin features prominently. When I was a boy, I read the stories as straightforward problem narratives, but this rereading revealed a different angle. Asimov's Calvin is not so much a portrayal of a woman as the portrayal of a computer geek (something of which Asimov could have had no knowledge). Calvin resembled no female nerd I've ever met, but her obsession with technology and her disdain for lesser human beings (in her case, the entire human race) matches the profile the more obnoxious hyperintelligent male nerds I have met. Calvin is the Other, not the Lady.

Since I composed the preceding paragraph, I have learned about a new authorized trilogy featuring Susan Calvin. Ordinarily, I refuse to read books not written by the original demiurge - I made an exception for the later Dune books because Brian Herbert had been his father's co-conspirator in designing the Dune universe. The post-mortem Foundation books interested me not at all, and the off-planet Robot books were not interesting because I already ranked books such as Robots of Dawn and Robots and Empire low on my Asimov list. I like the simplicity of the robot stories. This new trilogy (of which only the first, I, Robot: To Protect, is out) is tempting, since Calvin is the only remotely fleshed-out character in the Asimovian canon. The other reason, which may well be dashed is this: I want to see how Calvin becomes who she is in the classic canon, just as I had high hopes for Episodes I-III.

The Kim Is Dead! Long Live the Kim!

2012-01-02T11:00:00.000-08:00

With the passing of Kim Jong-Il, his son Kim Jong-Un is now the leader of North Korea. His uncle-in-law Chang Sung-taek seems to be a guiding light to the young Kim. (Korean names are a wonderful illustration of the effect of generations of surnames, but at the same time often inconvenient to Western clarity). Kim Jong-Il invested his power in the military, especially after the famine of the '80's, and the military will determine the survival of the Kim Jong-Un regime. It is noticeable that even in a land that started as a socialist state and touts women soldiers, a distaff member of the royal family is not considered worthy of the throne. Caesar and the Praetorian guard are now locked in a holding pattern. The only good I can imagine arising from the stalemate of the elite while the peasants starve is that, when the country opens decades from now, the world will understand what a true scavenging society looks like and prepare for a global future of desperation.

Water, Water Everywhere and Not A Drop To Drink

2012-01-01T14:26:00.000-08:00

I rarely read the New York Time, but on the last day of 2011 something drove me to glance to the right upon entering the coffee shop across the street. On the lower right corner, there was an article on fracking in South Aftica. Fracking, or hydraulic fracturing, is the process of using lubrication and pressure to reach previously unreachable oil reserves. If the process is artificially stimulated, there is a risk of permanently contaminating the water supply and sterilizing the land. (I shall resist the temptation to use sexual metaphors to describe the process). The region of South Africa in which American multimationals wish to engage in this practice is the Karoo Desert, the very name of which ('thirsty land') indicates the scarcity of water. The quoted opponent of the fracking, Chris Hayward, is from Beaufort West, and only recently had to slaughter 600 of his 2000 sheep for lack of water. Although I do take an occasional interest in South Africa, the explicit naming of a South African ordinarily would not elicit such a response, much less a blog post. The only son of a South African sheep farmer in the Karoo I have ever met, however, is named Stuart Hayward, a contributor to the South African-themed blog Southernwrite.

How did I meet a shepherd's son? It was a winter, quite a while ago, up in the Sierra Nevada mountains, which this year also lacked the requisite amount of winter water. We were on our way to a ski resort, and all along the road there were young employees from the other hemisphere seeking a ride to work. The long-standing dispute of the wisdom of picking up hitchikers was not an issue, and the young man came into our car. Thus began an association that continues to this day.

Now we ought to return to the Karoo and its dry environs. Water, especially fresh water, is limited throughout the world, as is oil. Human beings, however, cannot drink oil. Although this time the ones who will suffer in Africa are white rather than black, it is the American companies who stand to profit and the locals who stand to suffer. This is the human condition: even the quarrel of Agamemnon and Achilles brought suffering and death to the ordinary soldiers. Another unfortunate psychological flaw of humanity is the sacrifice of long-term prosperity in exchange for short-term gain. The most egregious example I have seen lately (taken from the same article) is Indonesia's willingness to drill into an active mud volcano where the last attempt displaced 30,000 people. I do not know where the march of the thirty thousand went after their villages were destroyed, but surely it exacerbated some other domestic issue.

The combination of too many people and too few renewable resources will lead within the next fifty years to resource wars. Since the human race seems reluctant to decrease its numbers in a peaceful manner, we will need all the resources we can preserve. Corporate greed, particularly the unsustainable model of eternal capitalism, threatens the long-term survival of many of our species by poisoning the environment, but that's a post for another day

Flashlight Hike 2011

2011-12-13T08:02:00.000-08:00

No photos this time. I was in a dark corner supervising the carries group, and then it was too dark. We followed the customary route above Rodeo Lagoon, near which some of the participants had gone to environmental awareness camp. One of my earliest maps was drawn at that camp for my journal entries of that year. I believe I also said something uncomplimentary about Jonathan Vordermark and criticized the camp's treatment of the flag. We went up the hill to the bunker and split into a round robin of five groups to complete various requirements. As I said, I was supervising the carries group. The test was a race, which would have been much more hazardous if the giant gun emplacement pit had not been filled. We continued up the hill and up the stairs. I was a bit worried when we were passing the collapsed wooden ruins on the top of the head, since some of the younger kids were itching to descend into the splintery abyss. Several of the turns were not clearly marked, but we did not lose anybody. We ascended to Hill 88 and supped there. The Urban Astronomer, who was with us, provided guidance to navigating the stars, although the moon was bright. We headed down from the summit of Hill 88 and walked along the backside of the ridge.

At the crossroads, where a wrong choice would lead to the Long March of that infamous year, the Urban Astronomer provided more guidance on celestial gazing, but fell short on myth. Cepheus was the king of Ethiopia, and Cassiopeia was his queen, and Andromeda was his daughter. Cassiopeia bragged that Andromeda was more beautiful than the gods. This boast angered the gods and Poseidon demanded that Andromeda be chained to a cliff and consumed by a sea monster. Andromeda did not die, because Perseus (not Pegasus) rescued her. Upon reflection, the confusion might have arisen because Perseus did have the sandals of Hermes, which had wings and allowed him to fly, thus fulfilling the same role as Pegasus. Such errors do makes me wonder whether I should start a mythology blog.

We descended from the decision of Hercules into the always-chilly hollow and out towards the road. We were behind schedule, but I was less discombobulated than some of the impatient teenagers. We walked along the north side of Rodeo Lagoon, and I recalled the swampy path on the south side and the crossing of the bar. We reached the parking lot, consumed doughnuts and hot chocolates, and the Urban Astronomer allowed the boys to look through his telescope at the Galilean moons.

Parish Retreat 2011

2011-12-11T20:29:00.001-08:00

On the first weekend of November, I went on the St James parish retreat. I rode up after work with Petrina and Roger, so I missed the cocktail hour (it was an Episcopal retreat, after all). As we came up the driveway to the Bishop's Ranch, a strong unidentified smell overwhelmed me, Finally, I realized that the smell was manure – I'd not visited the proper countryside for so long I'd forgotten the smell! There were four groups at the Ranch this weekend – our group from St James, one from St Ambrose, a group called Women of Wonder, and an AmeriCorp group stationed at the Ranch for six weeks. Although we'd missed cocktail hour, we hadn't missed Compline. For those unfamiliar with the term, Compline is a Christian evening service, the last of the day, in which one reflects and winds down.

The morning was cold and misty, unlike many I remember from BREAD (at least the misty part – I've been at the Ranch when it's cold.). After an organic breakfast, there was a plenary session led by Anna Eng, whom I had met before, on the Art of the Relational Meeting – the sort that leads to progress towards a goal and that is sorely lacking in the contemporary political sphere. Eng's use of the term “agitation” for “stirring of the imagination” seemed a little strange, just as the term “enable” in the EDGE method acronym reminds me of Alcoholics Anonymous. The blacksmithing workshop had filled up well before, so I went on a hike with Ullrich the jovial German and several others. Since we were out in the field when we decided to take an extended hike, and the map was hardly to scale, there was some debate where we were. We took Treehouse Hill Loop to Turtle Creek Lane, and up the dirt road towards the lake (which I have yet to reach). We crossed Turtle Creek, but had to stop at the second ridge because there was a dead sow on a truck. Apparently the sow had been tearing up the grounds of the Ranch and the management had called the pig hunters from Swine Country (company name) to eliminate her. So we chatted a while, and I took some pictures for the Scouts. It had begun to rain, and we couldn't have reached Lower Lake and returned in time for lunch, so we headed back to the refectory. We passed the gate to the Russell Ranch, went past the Peace Pole (what a bizarre structure) and back to the refectory.

After lunch, during which I bought a book by an Episcopal female priest on Marian devotionals (the book itself is difficult to describe, especially since I have not started to read it properly), I chatted with a fellow parishioner. Our philosophies differed dramatically, as you might expect from a dedicated Scout leader and a conscientious objector. It reminded me a little of the Hard-Travelling Heroes, except that I'm inclined to side with Hal than Ollie. Later, I went to the Ranch House. I found Carole Jan Lee's book of show tunes on the open piano. I couldn't resist. After a few false starts, I chose a song and began to teach myself how to play “I don't know how to love him” from “Jesus Christ Superstar”. The song resonated with me, but I'm scarcely the first to empathize with the Magdalene. Even later, I played Bananagrams (R) with some other parishioners, but the faults of Scrabble (R) which the former game aims to correct seem to me the strengths of the latter.

After dinner, the main event was square dancing: square dancing is an excellent activity for a church retreat – it's family-friendly, but still allows every level of public behavior up to flirting. The man and women of each couple were of compatible height, but the very family-friendliness of square dancing made a right-and-left grand with six adults and two short children. The caller explained the origin of the periodic stomp: although stomping is extremely satisfying, its original intent was to remove the manure from your boot. After we had covered the basics, the caller taught the grand square. I was dragged (not wholly unwillingly) into the grand square with a woman I'll call Blonde, Busty, and Beaming for lack of an actual name. A grand square is quite complicated, and probably becomes more difficult with sufficient imbibing, but BBB and I managed our part well. Other couples were significantly more confused. H., one of our St James parishioners, injured herself during the Cotton-Eyed Joe that followed the square dancing and preceded the evening's closing waltz.

Father David led Saturday Compline, using a poorly mimeographed sheet from the infamous New Zealand Prayer Book. The New Zealand Prayer Book can be disorienting, since it incorporates Maori traditional oratory, which differs greatly from English rhetoric. The New Zealand Our Father is called a translation, but expands to much for me to call it such. It is an exegesis, and one which I would like to examine further before endorsing it.

After Compline, several parishioners retired to the ranch house living room to play the game Celebrities. I had never played this game before. It was something like a cross between Charades and Musical Chairs. The game mechanics were fine, but a combination of the age divide among the players and a paucity of contributors to the pot threw the match.

On Sunday, we attended a more conventional service in the chapel. Every time I have gone to the Bishop's Ranch, I have forgotten that it is a functioning parish church and has its own congregation. I kicked a ball around with one of the kids. Then it was time to go home to the city with Ryszard and Elia.

Post Rojak

2011-12-08T00:00:00.000-08:00

It seems apropos that I completed Lesson 23 of the online Malay course before a potluck. The twenty-third section seems a bit late to introduce such an important part of Malay culture, but the vocabulary is rich. At the nadir of my Bahasa Malaysia knowldedge, all I could say was "Saya hendak beli ikan" ("I would like to buy a fish"). The example sentence introduce the words for husband and wife - suami and isteri, respectively. These words look more Indian than Austronesian to my linguistic eye, although no doubt other words for such a basic relationship exist. The word for cheese, keju, is manifestly Portuguese, and the author of the lesson provides a warning against the consumption of pork in the company of Muslims. Rojak, a medley of individual foods, recieves mention, as does its linguistic equivalent, Bahasa Rojak, the bastard child of linguistic crossroads. The insertion of linguistic terminology relates to something further down the page. The list of fruits (buah-buahan) is extensive - many fruits seem to have no parallel name in English. Among these fruits is durian, the delicious and fragrant fruit. Imagine the smell of growing up in an durian orchard! The section on meal names discriminates between dinner (makan malam) and supper (makan lewat malam), something which Americans often fail to do.

For a linguistic desert, my old love clusivity recieves a clear explanation. Kami is inclusive we (I plus you) and kita is exclusive we (I, but not you). The lack of this distinction in the Indo-European languages is rarer than its presence, but I have read somewhere that the two forms of 'we/us' in Proto-Indo-European is relic of clusivity. You might call the forms relic-clusives! In Bahasa Rojak, however, the inclusive form kami is replaced by the specifically Bahasa Rojak form kitorang, from kita orang, 'we people'. If my hunch is correct, this is a reflection of the use of inclusive forms to reinforce ethnocentric bonds, since my Quechua-speaking ordained acquaintance used a similar example to illustrate clusivity in his mother tongue.

A Rash of Songs

2011-12-07T15:46:00.000-08:00

This Sunday, a particularly rainy day, at the Museum of the Legion of Honor, Sylvia Rhine '78 (Carleton) and Eric Redlinger, the members of Asteria, gave a lecture on and played music from the court of Charles the Bold (sometimes known as 'the Rash'), Duke of Burgundy. The Duchy of Burgundy in the Late Middle Age was the richest "country" in Europe, and treated as an equal to the kings of official countries. Charles, as many generals have done, thought his campaign would be quickly done. He spent more than a year trying to take Neuss. A man of his stature had to be an accomplished warrior, host, and diplomat, so the delay in taking the city forced Charles to set up a court just beyond the field of battle. There he welcomed embassies with the gravitas necesssary for a man of his station, but he also entertained his guests and retainers. He had three minstrels, the three greatest in Europe, and he commanded that there be one new song every night. If the song failed to please him, he would execute the performer -okay, that last part is false, but the rest sounds like something out of Arabian Nights!

In the lecture before the concert, Sylvia Rhyne and Eric Redlinger discussed the impossibility of truly knowing the sound of medieval music. Some differences, nonetheless, could be ascertained - medieval music was composed of individual melodies that formed chords rather than chords per se; the music did not use meters (though of course notes had varying lengths). The dominant use of marriage as a political tool made amour de loin (love at a distance) the most common form of amour (Le Corps Sen Va, Antoine Busnoys). Medieval music was private and personal, but could be heard throughout the chateaux. Although it was personal, it did not use names, but preferred to idealize humans (Plus jay le monde regarde, Robert Morton; De Tous Biens Pleine, van Ghizeghem; Au gre de mes yeulx, Antoine Busnoys) and anthropomorphize abstract concepts (Allez Regrets, van Ghizeghem) The texts of medieval music were exquisite, expensive, and heart-shaped - although the last feature may be the result of the container reflecting the matter contained. Rhyne and Redlinger abbreviated the concert due to the impending and regular organ recital.

The concert featured compositions by the three composers (Antoine Busnoys, Robert Morton, and Hayne van Ghizighem), an anonymous composer, and Charles himself. It was lovely and soothing - perhaps too soothing, for a darkened room!

I'm recording the text of the planned concert here, since I find the songs beautiful in sentiment as well as performance - and a guy can never have too much love poetry as a miles amoris. Si je parle franCais, je pourrai les lire facilement. Certes, cette language est plus facile que le franCais anglo-normandais que je lisais a Saint Andrew.

Plus jay le monde regarde (Robert Morton)
Plus jay le monde regarde
Plus je voy mon premier chois
Avoir le bruit et le vois
De los de grace et de beaulte

The more I have seen the world
The more I see my first choice
To have the nobility and the voice
Of things of grace and beauty.
Quant ce vendra (Antoine Busnoys)
Quant ce vendra au droit destraindre
Comment pouray mon veul constraindre
Et mon cueur faindre a mon douloureux partement
De vous mon leal pencement, a qui nulluy ne peut actaindre.

When it comes to true torment
How shall I contain my desire?
Even my heart falters at my sad parting
From you, my loyal, whom it is not possible to reach.
Allez regrets (Hayne van Ghieghem)
Allez regrets vuidez de ma presance
Allez ailleurs querir vostre acointance
Assez avez tourmente mon las cueur.

Go, Regrets, depart from my presence.
Go elsewhere to find your company
You have tormented my weary heart enough.
Sur Mon Ame (Anonymous)

De tous biens pleine (van Ghizeghem)
De tous biens pleine est ma maistresse
Chacun luy doit tribut donneur,
Car assouvye est en valeur
Autant que jamais fut deesse.

My mistress is full of all good things.
Each to her should be a giver of tribute.
For she is as appeased in worthiness
As any goddess was.
N'auray-je jamais mieux (Morton)
N'auray-je jamais mieux que jay
Suis je la ou je demeurai,
Mamour et toute ma plaisance?
...N'aurez vous jamais connaissance
Que je suis tout votre et serai?

Will I never have better than I have,
Am I here where I shall remain,
My love and all my pleasure?
....Will you never have knowledge
That I am and will be wholly yours?
Le souvenir de vous me tue (Morton)
Le souvenir de vous me tue,
Mon seul bien, quant je ne vous voy.
Car ie vous jure, sur ma foy,
Sans vous ma liesse est perdue.

The memory of you kills me,
My one good, when I do not see you.
For I swear to you, upon my good faith
That without you my joy is lost.
Gentilz gallans (van Ghizeghem)
Gentilz gallans soions toujours joyeux
Et je vous en prie tres humblement
Et si servons les dames loyaulment
Sans reposer le vray cueur amoureux.

Noble swains, let's be alway joyful,
And I beseech you very humbly
And thus let's serve the ladies loyally
Without relaxing the true loving heart.
En voyant sa dame (Busnoys)
En voyant sa dame au matin
Pres du feu ou elle se lace
Ou est le cueur qui ja se lasse
De regarder son beau tetin.

Upon seeing his lady in the morning,
Near the fire where she rests,
Where is the heast that would relax itself
From observing her beautiful breast?
Au gre de mes yeulx (Busnoys)
Au gre de mes yeulx je vous ay choisie
La plus acomplie qui soit soulx les cieulx.

At the liking of my eyes I have chosen you
The most accomplished woman who is under heaven.
Ma Dame Helas (Charles the Bold)

Le corps sen va (Busnoys)
Le corps sen va et le cueur vous demeure.
Le quel veult faire avec vous sa demeure
Pour vous vouloir aimer tant et si fort
...A vous servir jusques ace que je meure.

The body leaves and the heart remains with you.
That which wants to make its stay with you.
From the desire to love you so strongly and completely
... To serve you until I die.

Ma dame trop vous mesprenes (Charles the Bold)
Ma dame trop vous mesprenes
Quant vers moy ne vous gouvernes.
Aultrement qui l'oseroit dire, dire?

My lady, you hurt me too much,
When you do not steer my verse.
Otherwise who would dare to speak?

Turkey Day Tumpang

2011-11-23T16:19:00.001-08:00

I was relaxing from Thanksgiving setup by finishing the current lesson in the online Bahasa Malaysia course - I'd wanted to practice some hieroglyphics, but I'd already put away my notes on where I last ended in Chapter XXXII of the Book of the Dead. The subject of Lesson 21 was 'di mana' ('where?'), and, more generally, locative expressions. The Bahasa Malaysia words for left and right ('kiri' and 'kanan', respectively) must be a nightmare for folks like me, who often confuse left and right! But the most relevant word for the holidays is 'tumpang', which can be used in three ways: 1) in phrases such as "boleh saya tumpang tanya?" "do you mind if I ask you a question?" 2) "to stay at a relative's or friend's place for the night" 3) "to get a lift in a car", possibly from a friend or relative. This polysemy speaks volumes about Malay and Malaysian culture, and serves as a friendly warning about one-to-one translation!

Through Rose-Colored Lenses

2011-10-26T08:21:00.000-07:00

I've been reading a great book, Through the Language Glass by Guy Deutscher, whose previous book, The Unfolding of Language, holds an honored spot on my bookshelf - after the dictionaries, of course. The first part of Through the Language Glass addresses the history of color perception, starting with the British Prime Minister Gladstone (a politician in an era when keen intellect was not viewed as a sin) through the modern day. Although the modern progression of color terms is associated with exotic cultures, the pomegranate in the Garden was Gladstone's observation that Homer, known for his graphic similes, used a remarkably small palette (violet, dark, and pale green). I always imagined the maiden Chloris as having eaten something disagreeable! A language will always have a white/light vs. black/dark distinction; next comes red, the color of blood (from which word the term for "red" is often derived) and ripe fruit; then green or yellow, the color of unripe fruit; yellow, green, and blue follow. Blue is a latecomer, perhaps because few things in nature are vibrant blue. Perhaps we need a captive Smurf breeding program - I'm not sure the blue midgets have returned to the DC universe yet. Just as some languages favor when something was done (tense) against how something is viewed (aspect), so too some languages favor brightness over wavelength separation. Other languages prefer to split the colors in various ways - Russian distinguishes light blue from dark blue and Welsh grey-green from vibrant green. There is an entire amusing story behind the bluish tint of green Japanese traffic!

Regular readers of my blog (or, really, anyone who's seen my Favorite Books list on Facebook) will know I have a taste for dystopias, so it is no surprise that I have read Louise Lowry's The Giver. In that dystopia, all are equal, sharing the same birthday and identical gifts. On one particular birthday, all members of an age cohort receive a red bike. The adjective "red" is only attached to the word "bike", and the only sort of "bike" is a "red" one. It's clear from the narrative that the bikes are, in fact, bikes, but here is the question: if "red" and "bike" are always paired, does "red" actually mean anything in this context? Are they completely colorblind or is red the last remaining vestige of color perceived by their dulled senses? Apparently Lowry did her research! After I had read one of Deutscher's paragraphs on the color/shade orange, I examined the orange juice in the fridge and it was indeed a rich yellow rather than true orange. I had never noticed that before, and after my experience with ejective p in basic Korean vocabulary, I realize how many things individuals gloss over to cope with the overwhelming data stream that is life.

I'm saving Deutscher's discussion of "an ant is on your south foot" languages for another post, since someone else has brought up such matters recently.

Royaneh 2011

2011-10-25T22:03:00.000-07:00

*Sorry about the delayed posting - I was going to post it earlier today. Share and enjoy!

This was going to be the year when I spent the whole two weeks at Royaneh: it didn't quite work that way, but it came close. After a late doctor's appointment (the appointment was late, not the doctor!), I came up to Royaneh mid-Thursday. I recieved an enthusiastic welcome and settled into my usual location near the sweet aromas of the latrine.

The dining hall was packed, so much so that the camp staff had to eat outside or elsewhere. The reason for this overflowing cup? One of the camps in the Sierra was still under three feet of snow (a phenomenon which I can well believe, since I'd just been at Tahoe and marvelled at the remaining snowpack), and the troops which usually camped there had taken refuge at Royaneh. One of the interesting side effects of this generosity was the overlap of numbers, and a curious insistence on initials after troop names. For once, we shared a number with another troop.

Thursday was skit night, and our guys had chosen a familiar skit. The problem was this: it was familiar to the Scouts in the troop, but not to the rest of the camp. It is difficult to involve the whole troop and have a focused skit.

Friday brought the usual flurry of requests for me to sign this and initial that, and the reassurance that a two-week troop can provide more opportunity to complete partials. One of the merit badges offered that week, the surprise badge of the summer, was Nuclear Energy, which did not seem to me a "camp badge", but then, how many people are qualified to teach it? Another badge, Scouting History, seemed questionable. I may, however, be biased, as one of the requirements made me realize how long I have been involved with Scouting. Closing campfire caused the usual cognitive dissonance among the two-weekers, but (as always) everyone had to go to it. The new stage is very nice, although the random appearances of dogs in the background was a little distracting. Jay from Aquaneh, as usual, was master of ceremonies for final honors for tattered flags. At the first closing campfire of the summer, he seemed a little suprised at the dearth of veterans among the Scouters.

Saturday morning came, and the list of completes and partials was announced. The number of merit badges earned has increased with the consolidation of Mammals and Fish and Wildlife into the two-badge class "Fwammals". The other troops left, and some left quite early, so only our troop, and the troop with our number times three remained. The morning was devoted to the Junior Leader Training, which involved a larger number of scouts than I had anticipated. The session wnet well, for the most part, and sparked certain ideas for imporvement which I jotted down. The afternoon was split between swimming (in the pool, not at Romans Plunge) and CAPTURE THE FLAG! The teams were split, and the traditional boundaries had a slight modification due the troop times three. The bugle indicated the end of each round. Yes, some people contracted poison oak; the showering considerably delayed the start of the campfire, at which the Staff formed a Idol-like panel. Perhaps next I shall judge the Staff skit as they judge those of the patrols.

On Sunday morning, the Troop did not sleep in as long as they wished. The Scout's Own was slightly different - there were two speakers, one Scout, one parent. Several patrols used the time saved from an organized signup for Merit Badges to complete the cairn hikes from Saturday.

Monday saw a return to classes. It seems to me that the Scouts are busier with badges than when I was a Scout at Royaneh, a bit more ambitious. The biggest change, however, was this: for the first time, I was one of two adult leaders, not overshadowed by Joe Ehrman or Bruce.

Wednesday it rained, shocking the disbelievers who had never seen rain at Royaneh and though my description of a three-day rainy stretch the tall tale of a Troop alumnus. The classes were held in the halls and in the Chiefs' Lounge. Unfortunately, Wednesday was also Competition Night, held in the mess hall rather than the newly rebuilt Ralph W. Benson amphitheater. The rain had stopped, but it was too late to move back to the amphitheater. Most of the events were the same, and the competition was lively, but the judge of one of the events declared every contestant a winner. This did not sit well with the Troop, which felt that a proper competition has either a winner or a loser.

On Thursday, I held a Star conference for the First Class scouts who had passed our pre-Star conference test. That was an interesting experience. I asked the three candidates to plan various aspects of an overnight camping trip, given the landscape around Pioneers with which they were familiar.In retrospect, I should have said that they were leading a group, not merely going themselves. The trio put together a solid plan, I also held a Second Class conference for another Scout whose condition prevented him from attending Swimming MB. At this point, I no longer remember what the skit for Skit Night was.

On Friday night, of course, the Troop Feed happened. The Staff kept a lid on the number of camp counselor guests, and the food was delicious. The most memorable feature of this year's Troop Feed, however, was the post-prandial guitar sing-along which lasted far longer than we would usually allow. It was the sort of camaraderie you can't create.

Possession and Poetry

2011-10-24T08:44:00.000-07:00

One of the books I purchased at Archon 35 in St Louis was The Handbook of Science Fiction Poetry by Suzette Haden Elgin, the author of Native Tongue and creator of the allegedly woman-friendly language Láadan (more on that thought later, if I remember). I was not planning to write any English-language (or even Láadan) poetry, but I did want to know her thoughts on the techniques of poetry to improve my prose. One section in particular caught my eye. Elgin points out in this section that every English sentence and word has a “phantom sentence” underlying it, and that the more liberal rules of poetry expose that truth more effectively than prose. The construction of a science-fictional or fantasy setting requires more exposition than a real-world fictional setting, and nowadays much of that must be discreet. I'm a fan of the old-fashioned expository speech, thanks to the amount of 1930s and '40s books I read as a kid, but that taste seems rare now.

The use of the word “orphan” implies two dead parents, and thereby can hang the tale. Add the word “homeless” to “orphan”, and the phrase suggests that the lack of a roof is connected to the lack of parents, although it need not be (perhaps the family was homeless beforehand). If you write the sentence “The homeless orphan was crying”, you have added definiteness (a specific orphan), a contrast (is there an orphan was has a home? Is there someone who is homeless but not an orphan?), and an action that implies a cause (why is the homeless orphan crying? Homelessness or dead parents need not be the cause of the orphans' sorrow.).

Romney's Run

2011-10-20T10:30:00.000-07:00

There's been a lot of talk recently about whether Mitt Romney is Christian. Romney's membership in the Church of Latter-Day Saints does not endear him to the Evangelical Republican base. From the standpoint of the "mainstream" churches, also, Romney is not in fact Christian, since Mormons follow a second revelation of Jesus Christ, and a new revelation is the sign of a false prophet. The Republican reluctance to endorse Romney, however, is a bit surprising: the Evangelical Right is willing to work with non-Evangelicals and non-Christians in movements such as the pro-life movement. The confusion, it seems to me, stems from a conflation of two roles: the leader of the Republican Party and the President of the United States. It would be interesting to learn if the controversy over Romney in any way reflects the discussions during the Kennedy campaign.

Indecent Propositions

2011-10-19T12:26:00.000-07:00

The other day, I dedicated some time to actually reading the San Francisco voters' pamphlet. A lot of people want to be mayor of San Francisco. The number of propositions is fairly low, but every one of them must be read carefully. In one of them, the final line of the proposal sheds a different light on the preceding sentences, a light which reversed my decision. Such surprises are good in drama, but in politics, and particularly in a system allegedly designed to be friendly to the public, such surprises are dishonest and sneaky. Only in government is it good form to attach unrelated matters to a bill on a different subject. The other feature of propositions which confuses and annoys me is the number of opposing propositions. Even if I understand and agree that Proposition X is a good idea, it is impossible to tell what the interaction of Proposition X and Proposition Y will be. I vote on individual propositions, but the effects are multiple.

Harmonia Altaica

2011-10-19T11:52:00.000-07:00

The other day (well, a while ago now), I was reading about the Altaic hypothesis and examining a chart of sound changes that included the changes from Altaic to Old Japonic (the ancestor of Japanese, the languages of the Ryukyu islands, and possibly the extinct Gaya language of South Korea). The Altaic hypothesis is that a large variety of language families, of which the most famous is the Turkic and the most vicious is Mongolic, are the descendants of a theoretical language, Altaic, which did not have vowel harmony, but did have features that created vowel harmony in the descendant languages. Vowel harmony, the process by which only certain vowels may appear together in a single word, implies a reduction in the numbers of vowels (since most vowels in a vowel harmony language “pair up”), and the pattern proposed for the creation of Old Japonic halves the numbers of vowels to one low, one mid, one back, and one front. Both the back and the front are intrinsically high. A separate common phenomenon, discouraged and disparaged in that oddball language English, is onomatopoeia, the imitation of the sounds of creatures and phenomena in the words that mean those creatures and phenomena – a good example is Bahasa Indonesia 'susu' 'milk', from the suckling sound of babes.

If Old Japonic had both onomatopoeia and vowel harmony, the extremely high proportion of like vowels in sequence in current Japanese would seem less strange, as would the inability of the earliest phonetic scripts to recognize the true differences in the eight-vowel system of Old Japanese. The Turkic runes, the oldest form of native Turkic writing, incorporate the vowel harmony system into the structure of the mixed alphabet/syllabary, but do so awkwardly and incompletely.

Copts and Mobbers

2011-10-13T16:18:00.000-07:00

The recent news that Egyptian mobs attacked a Coptic church distresses me greatly. The excitement of the Arab Spring has faded, when Egyptians were united against Mubarak, and normal, ugly political discourse has reasserted itself. The fundamental problem with many rebellions is the lack of a cause for which it is fighting. Attacks on Copts are not a new phenomenon in contemporary Egypt, but such rioting and unrest provides a pretext by which the allegedly provisional military government can cement its base or weaken its opposition. If the mobile vulgus is busy attacking non-Muslims (in which case Christians will have to do in the absence of Jews), then it cannot attack the true and established opposition.

Archon 35: A Personal Retrospective

2011-10-12T16:24:00.000-07:00

I'd better write this before I begin to forget the details!

I'd dipped my toes into Wondercon several times (whenever I wasn't camping that weekend), and I recently went to WorldCon in Reno; I'd even been to St Louis before. This was, however, my first Archon. I didn't announce my status ahead of time too publically - too many horror stories about maltreatment of noobs. I loaded up on books in the hallway, but didn't buy so much in the dealer's room - I'm a bibliophile, not a collector. The Science Fiction Poetry Handbook by Suzette Haden Elgin is good! I'm also caught up on Avengers history in time for the movie, in case there are any continuity nods. I had a nice chat with Sara Harvey, whose book Convent of the Pure I bought at WorldCon but have not read yet (the cover is far too salacious to display in public). I also bought a modern pulp hero story - the equivalent of steampunk. Unfortunately, pulp heros tend to be popular in rough economic times.

The panels I attended had the following themes: Superman, Firefly, Dr. Who, steampunk, and writing panels. The Superman panel proposed that he was a distillation of several characters (Hugo Danner, Doc Savage, etc.) and not original at all. But then, that is also the description of Casablanca! The Who panel was more interesting for meeting people (I am tired of Rory and Amy!), especially Paul, Rosemary, and Beth, but the Firefly panel was livelier. Firefly is a good example of a show where the quality made a short run a lasting work. The steampunk panels were fascinating, and, as I posted on the FB Archon site, taught me an appreciation of steampunk. The writing panels were very informative - Rachel Neumeier had interesting points, and I may have to thank Michael Tiedemann for his advice on non-monetary social status markers. One of the downsides of the panels, however, was the level of rudeness among the audience. Such poorly socialized convention members are one of the reason that science fiction, fantasy, and gaming are in public disrepute.

The costumes! O the costumes! The costumes were fantastic. The emphasis was fantasy or steampunk. Some of them were ill-advised or made when the wearer was thinner. There was a lot of cross-dressing (most notably the group who dressed as the X-Women), but Beth reminded me that I live in a strange little bubble where cross-dressing is more acceptable than other cities. I watched the Masquerade, which was amazing - some contestants must have spent a fortune. My favorite costume was a tie between the Weeeping Angel and Kasey MacKenzie's Kaylee (Firefly) outfit.

The parties went into the early morning, but my disdain for drunken idiots and my inability (even in college) to pull an all-nighter prevented me from partaking much.

If people left Sunday, they missed the flying shark.

The Doubletree, where I stayed, was nice, connected to the Gateway Center (sans Aboriginal teleporter) by a bridge over a ditch. Nothing fancy, but flyover country seems to remember that it is a hospitality industry.

Rain, Again

2011-10-10T15:56:00.000-07:00

Il pleuve. Llueve. It is raining. Weather often isn't anybody's fault, unless you count Greek peasants who believe the Earth is Zeus' toilet bowl. Weather doesn't have an agent (look at how people complain about it!) and often has no patient either, provided you don't run around in thunderstorms with a kite. Since the weather is an event without mover or moved, languages with mind-boggling conjugations often have only a few forms in the third person singular (he/she/it) for “it rains”. I've even heard that a few languages forgo a verbal form of 'rain' and leave only a noun – it would not surprise me if such languages demanded a subject for their sentences, the reverse of the court of an unjust king. Under normal circumstances, rain falls from the sky to the ground, so the sentence “Rain comes down” does not appear strange.

In ancient times, these forms made sense; weather happened. If certain weather was predictable according to the season, that did not indicate any understanding of the cause. Even today, the weather forecast is shockingly uncertain compared to the “stricter” sciences. Has the greater understanding of the interaction of humus clouds and human crowds brought us to a point where the tempestuous agents of human nature ought to be acknowledged, in speech as well as thought? I'm not claiming some strong version of the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, which for me is more a tool of creation than dissection, but if people in uncomfortable positions use the passive (“mistakes were made”) to eliminate personal responsibility, why not use the reverse to promote responsibility?

Sales & Services

2011-10-06T12:00:00.000-07:00

Written before the trip:

I'm flying to St Louis tomorrow for Archon. It's also Rosh Hashanah. I'm not Jewish, but I know how important the High Holy Days are in the tradition. I've also been listening to NPR, one of whose segments focused on the financial straits of members of synagogues. If I have understood the situation correctly, this is the time of year when many temples collect membership fees, partially via the sales of tickets to High Holy Days services, but many Jewish men and women who in better times readily paid for their tickets cannot pay this year. Although I'm sure it's a mitzvah to provide a ticket under these circumstances, the idea of selling tickets to a day of obligation is very strange. It's true that my Anglican tradition used to rent the forward aisles to various prominent families (including some of my ancestors), but the entire church was never declared off-limits to humbler and poorer congregational members in good standing! I find it hard to believe that the Jewish tradition would deliberately discourage Jews from going to temple, so I must be missing some element here that is clearer to one raised in the faith tradition.

New Colors

2011-10-04T07:30:00.000-07:00

As I was handing out the Ray-O-Han awards, I couldn't help thinking that the 100th anniversary of the troop is fast approaching. I'm definitely sticking around for that landmark! Of course, the centenary will require a new color, and the passing of the magenta bar. We could go with the standard centenary color, but we don't have to - magenta is not the 75th anniversary color, after all. This is merely my personal poll, but I'd like to know what colors Troop alumni thinks should top the green of Leadership and the red of Tradition.

Beasts, Bass, and Bob

2011-10-03T12:00:00.000-07:00

Pirahã (native name: xapaitiiso) is a language spoken by less than 400 people in the Amazon. Daniel Everett, who has studied the language extensively, has made some extraordinary claims about it which are much disputed in linguistic circles. I'm not interested right now in the more contentious ones, or delving into the prononciation.

What does interest me is the pronominal system. The first and second person singular are ti3 and gi1xai3 respectively (the superscript numbers represent tones, with 1 being the highest). There are numerous third person singulars, of which hi3 is animate human (and apparently default masculine). The most common first and second person plurals are combinations of the singular persons; first person plural inclusive is ti3 gi1xai3 (first + second), first person plural exclusive is ti3 hi3 (first + third), and second person plural is gi1xai3 hi3 (second + third). The plural also has forms using a suffix -(a)(i)tiso – I'm not sure what causes the variation between ti3a1ti3so3 (first plural), gi1xa3i1ti3so3 (second plural), and hi3ai1ti3so3 (third plural, possibly exclusively human).

There are at least five third person singular pronouns (possibly derived from nouns, as many third persons around the world are), which break down into a simple binary chart. The highest branch divides animate from inanimate; inanimate singular is a3. An animate-inanimate distinction is the first divison one would expect if any division is made. The next division, human versus non-human, is also a common divison. The human pronoun is hi3. Humans come in two varieties, male and female (it would be inappropriate to quip about Genesis here, since the Piraha~ have an aversion to myth), and the specifically female pronoun is i3. Non-humans come in two varieties also, but the division is not between male and female, but aquatic and non-aquatic. The aquatic pronoun is si3, the non-aquatic i1k. If you lived in a land that flooded twenty feet every year, you'd be interested in this distinction!

Canoe Trip 2011

2011-09-28T17:00:00.000-07:00

Recently, we went on the fall canoe trip on the Russian River. The group was a little top-heavy in terms of age, but bonding is bonding. The trip, sadly, is no longer a two-day water trip, although it is an overnight - every night you pitch a tent counts for camping! We embarked below the campsite, and headed out. I'd been practicing my oar strokes in a wooden canoe on a relatively sheltered part of Lake Tahoe, so it took a while to adjust to the current and a battered (but fortunately not leaky) metal canoe. My power was better than my control, but my old sailing instructor at Tahoe could have told you that. The water in the river was much higher than the warm, green, scummy ride of last year, and the riverine topography now included additional broad shallows that extended under the bushes. This is a trip on which I am glad I am shorter than the average Caucasian male! We ate a bit later than I had anticipated, but everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Yes, there were swamped canoes and at least one lost paddle, but nobody was hurt in the process.

The campfire in the evening featured songs, skits, and yells, including a canoe-themed skit. No doubt the boys , were they writing this, would spend more time on the campfire than I shall. The next day we awoke and breakfasted. Since we can no longer do the stretch from Asti to our campsite, Sunday has become a day for some early fall skill advancement, in this case knots. I trust this stood the Scouts in good stead at the next meeting, where they worked on lashings.

The Scout's Own format has evolved somewhat, and now there is a Scout perspective as well as a parent speaker. I like this structure, because it gives the Scouts ownership over the service (I don't know what else to call it) without obscuring the focus of this part of the trip. If the Scout's insight varies from the superficial to the profound, I could say the same of a sample of homilies.

Credo and Quechua

2011-09-15T22:47:00.000-07:00

Recently, I went to a talk at St Dom's on changes in the English translation of the Mass (I always did wonder why the Catholic CHurch, which should know its Latin backwards and forward, translated the first word of the Creed "We believe"). All the talk of why the Creed uses "we" or "I" and how Christian know what they know made me think, and not just about the Creed itself. On Memorial Day, I took a road trip with a friend and a priest, a man of Quechua descent specializing in indigenous theology.

Now, Quechua is a tongue with both clusivity and evidentiality. Clusivity is a recurring linguistic feature of this blog; it's the difference between we = you and I (inclusive) and we = I, but not you. Inclusivity (and, I suspect, a desire to separate the Church from the "personal Jesus" Evangelicals) was the goal of the inaccurate translation of "credo" as "we believe". It seems to me that if the Nicene Fathers had intended the first person plural they would have used it.

They certainly chose to use it in the phrase "crucifixus etiam pro nobis" "He was crucified for our sake" (a benefactive!), but how is it rendered in Quechua? It happens that I don't read Quechua well enough to tell which form "muchurqa" is (the Creed is never a fair comprehension st, since one already knows what it says) - I know more about the verb forms than the pronominal ones. It could go either way - inclusive to indicate that God's plan of salvation is for all, or exclusive to indicate the authority of the Catholic church. If I want to know, I suppose I'll have to find a Quechua grammar and dictionary. I did find this link:
http://www.yoyita.com/Quechua/Rosario/Inini_credo.php

The other interesting feature is evidentiality, the mandatory marking of how you know what you know. These epistomological endings, I expect, would have an impact on the composition of the Creed - one of the reasons the Pirahã of the Amazon have not been converted is an unwillingness to belive in more than second-hand information. Some languages have more flexibility than others in evidentiality, and I believe that Quechua is on the harder end. I wonder what Aquinas looks like in Quechua!

WorldCon Reno

2011-08-26T19:06:00.000-07:00

Last weekend, I went to WorldCon in Reno (for which I had signed up due to proximity). I had a blast! I'd been to WonderCon in San Francisco several times, but I'd never committed to a con before. It was amazing. I met several folks (especially from the Language Creation Society) whom I only knew from online, and could fully relax the guardedness of the science fiction fan among the general populace. The authors were friendlier than I expected, but I guess that comes of being a fan before a writer. I certainly didn't expect to meet a Vatican City astronomer! I also saw Paul and Rosemary, whom I will see again in the fall. The Hugo Awards were fantsstic, although the comedy was mediocre. My only regret is that I only went for Saturday and Sunday, but next year I'll go to Chicago for the entire con.

The Drowned World

2011-08-10T16:32:00.000-07:00

On the lake, the water levels varies from year to year, no longer regulated by nature, but by artifice and treaty. The snows of this winter which filled the coffers also filled the lake, so much so that most of the rocky beaches are underwater and the woody plants of yesteryear stand, slowly drowning. Down at Bristlecone Beach, where Christ the King holds its Bible study, where banks of rich purple flowers bloomed last year, there is no longer a peninsula, not even an island, but only green and dying trees and a sign forlornly sticking out of the water like ruined tower off the Anglian coast.

Birthday

2011-08-06T20:04:00.000-07:00

That was quite a birthday! My cousin, Zach, and his girlfriend, Katie, came up for the festivities on Thursday. On Friday, we tried for the river, but in the morning the raft company had not opened, so we decided to go on the boat around the lake. Katie had never been on the lake, although her friend had been to Tahoe may times. We went over to Thunderbird Lodge, the stately manor founded by the heir to PG&E and Richmond/Sunset real estate, former circus performer, and 1905 earthquake hero. The old woodie Thunderbird II was nowhere in sight.

We continued down the Nevada side of the lake and stopped at a cove and a group of rocks. Three of us jumped, and as usual, were stripped of our breath by the bone-chilling temperature. Two of us adjusted fairly quickly. We swam to the rocks and climbed up on them. The rocks were as warm as the water was cold; unfortunately, somebody had tagged the back of the rock.

Once we were back on the boat, we went southward, past the clothing-free beach. Since we had enough gas, we headed across the lake to Emerald Bay. The heavy snowfall of this winter, still abundantly evident in the peaks of the Tahoe Rim, had filled Emerald Bay nearly to its greatest extent, so that the water was a marine blue rather than emerald green. The waterfall behind Vikingsholm, usually a trickle at this time of year, was visible from the mouth of the bay as a foaming white spray. As we travelled around Fannette Island, I told the others about Mrs. Knight, who owned Vikingsholm, and her predecessor Cap'n Dick, who used to row to Tahoe City for drinks and rowed back drunk every night. Nobody wanted to swim to the island with me! The one unfortunate effect of the high water was this: the travel lanes in and out of Emerald Bay were not as idiot-proof as usual (and a lot of idiots go on vacation). The return trip was uneventful, except for gas.

Since we had missed lunch altogether, Zach, Katie, and I went into town and got a slice of pizza to tide us over. Later, Mom, Dad, Zach, Katie, Aidan, Kirsten, and I went to the recently reopened Hacienda del Lago. It was nice to have the place back, although the bar that they built for the (former) tapas bar places takes up a lot of room that used to be seating.

After dinner, Zach, Katie, and I went to The Blue Agave to kill some time before the movie, and ran into Aidan and Kirsten. Zach, Katie, and I then watched Captain America, which all of us (even Katie) enjoyed. Marvel is doing a good job of tranferring its interwoven narrative to the screen.

On Saturday, Aidan, Kirsten, Zach, Katie, and I floated down the Truckee (since the rafting had opened the afternoon of the previous day). The extra water that had been added that morning made navigation more hazardous, since the rocks which usually showed were underwater and all the gunk which heretofore had lain on dry, or least slight damp, land, had risen up and headed downstream in the current. Several groups of enormous size hit the river, so we had to avoid the logjams. I got suburnt, but it was a great last part to my birthday "weekend".

New Blog

2011-08-04T13:44:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow is my birthday, so it seems an auspicious time to launch my new blog, The Tahoe Tongue, on the pre-settlement Washo language of the Tahoe basin. I plan to update it weekly while I work through Jacobsen's primer and beyond. I'd appreciate feedback on the clarity of the linguistic descriptions, since I want to make it as accessible as possible.

A Long Way From Wemyss

2011-08-03T14:55:00.000-07:00

Recently I learned that my Scottish forebears, the Bealls, were exclusively from one village in Fife. Wemyss, the village in question, is pronounced "Weems" and derives from the Scots Gaelic noun uaimh, which means "cave". There are certainly many caves near Wemyss, some of which were inhabited in the Neolithic Age and feature typically frank drawings. My ancestors, the Bealls, derive their surname from the Scots Gaelic noun beul or beal - the "extra" a or u indicates a broad, rather than slender, final consonant. This feature reminds me of a comment of Tolkien regarding Elvish spelling of English, namely that an elf such as Legolas would spell "bell" as "beoll". beul means "mouth", either that of a river or a person, and as an adjective, may refer to physical location or rhetorical skill. It seems to me there is a third option: in a place that is named after caves, why couldn't beul refer to the mouth of the caves instead? Since one regional cave in particular is famous for its rock drawings, the family that lived at the mouth of the cave would have a unique appellation.

Voyage of the Dawn Treader

2011-08-02T21:05:00.000-07:00

I recently watched Voyage of the Dawn Treader, the third and (sadly) last installment of the Chronicles of Narnia movie line. The solid beginning arose great hopes in me, since the visual signature was definately Narnian, not Lord of the Rings nor Harry Potter. I can forgive the rejiggering of plot necessary to sustain a movie, since the literary form is more tolerant of episodic narrative than its cinematic cousin. The plot device was weak, albeit an obvious one (what aristocrat doesn't have a sword?) The mysterious fog seemed a bit more contrived. The addition of a second female passenger seemed gratuitous. The longer dragon-stage of Eustace, however, was used to good effect, especially since the conversation between Aslan and Eustace in the book is profound, but would not translate well to film. That brings me to my final point: the Christian elements were minimal and well-hidden by conflicting desires to capture both the Christian and the secular market. The salvific (and generally non-Evangelical, non-Apocalyptic) Christian element, though objectionable to many, is the thematic signature of the Chronicles of Narnia, as integral to its setting as Quenya and Sindarin are to Lord of the Ring.

Summer Hike

2011-08-01T19:15:00.000-07:00

On Saturday morning in the parking lot, the sky over the City was gray, and there was some doubt whether it would lift in the East Bay as well. The intrepid hiing group, nonetheless, set off. It was still cool by the time we reach the Little Farm in Tilden Park, but not truly overcast. We hiked up to Memorial Grove, which was very windy and seemed distinctly ungrovelike to me. It resembled more strongly Dun Aonghas in Inishmore, although the viewing platform was in better shape. From the viewing platform, one could vast swaths of the East Bay and at least two reservoirs. After we had rested there, we descended to the actual grove, planted by the Rotary Club (an organization I know little about). Then we completed the short loop via a path that provided more shade. All of us went over to the Little Farm and patted the cows, although some were less than happy about cow slobber and the surprising sharpness of cow tongue.

The Lincoln Lawyer

2011-07-26T16:28:00.000-07:00

I rented this on a misunderstanding: I thought this was the film, recently lauded on NPR, about the trial of the woman who sheltered John Wilkes Booth and his conspirators. By the time I realized my error, I had already returned home. The Lincoln Lawyer is a tightly scripted thriller about a defense lawyer whose cases intertwine. I especially enjoyed this film for two reasons: firstly, I come from a family infested with defense lawyers; secondly, said defense lawyers know Hell's Angels (some came to my aunt's funeral), and the group features prominently and more or less positively in the film.

Canoeing

2011-07-25T21:02:00.000-07:00

This summer, in view of the absent Canoe Training trip in the late spring, I've pulled out my wooden canoe and taken in out in varying conditions. I welcome the shelter provided by the point and the boat field, but a lake (especially this one) does not have a direction of flow, which means you have work to move in any direction. The swells and winds are unpredictable, but there are enough obstacles (birds, boats, and rocks) to challenge my navigation skills.

The usual course is southwards first, between the rocks at the lakeside tennis courts and buoy field, outside the buoys at the pier which (in theory) prevent boats from ramming into the pier at high speed, down to the old pier near the end of the point, and back almost to the starting point. From there, I go around a smaller point that used to have rocks jutting out of the water, past the summer swimming raft off which I used to push my cousin Victoria, past the other summer swimming raft, and around back to the starting point. The round trip is a third to half a mile. Sometimes I reverse the direction.

In calm waters, I'll often overestimate the power of my strokes and have to correct for it; my old sailing instructor used to say the same of my tacking. The canoe, fortunately, has no draft whatsoever, so any rocks lurking six inches under the surface cannot threaten my craft.

I Once Was Blind, But Now I See

2011-04-21T20:44:00.000-07:00

I probably should be at a Maunday Thursday service right now, but the thought of washing someone else's feet is repulsive. So, in lieu of my bid for a book club meeting, I will share my thoughts on disabilities awareness.

As I was walking to class the other day, a group of admitted students came around the corner. All the students were blind, outfitted with red-and-white canes rather than guide dogs. One of the effects of my romantic history has been a heightened awareness of persons with disabilities in public settings. I stepped out of the way and let them pass.

This brief encounter remained in the back of my mind as I attended classes. After class, I picked up a university paper. One of the articles addressed the plight of persons with disabilities in light (pun intended) of the recent power outage. I shall skip over the fact that I probably know the cause and the foreman of the human cause of the power outage. Several students with disabilities that restricted and eliminated their movement were stranded when the power died, since the elevators did not work.

This highlighted the lack of an overall university plan for evacuation of students with disabilities. On the one hand, the university budget is tight, and the needs of the students are great, so a sparse distribution of human resources is not unexpected; the recent closing of a local bookstore (Thidwick Books) due to a somewhat petty threat of an ADA lawsuit disinclines me to use extremely harsh language. On the other hand, students with mobility issues have no choice about classes on the higher floors of the building. One suggested solution is a designated gathering area on each floor for the students with disabilities, but this solution does not work so well if any fire is involved.

What disturbs me most, however, about this incident, is the following sentence: “Students with disabilities who do not receive assistance from classmates and faculty ...” It is possible that this sentence refers to those persons with disabilities whom the classmates and faculty cannot help due to equipment issue (although one would think a university would have plenty of strong lads and lasses to move heavy equipment). If, however, the writer does indeed intend the verb “to do” rather than “to can”, it betrays a flaw in human nature even more than university policy. If one shares a class with a person with a disability, one should be willing to assist him or her if asked, If removal from the wheelchair is necessary (and here my Baden Powell obsession betrays me), there are carries designed for such purposes which do not require a long time to learn.

Ultimately, all of us who are able-bodied should be more aware of the needs of persons with disabilities willing to help when asked (because one of the side-effects of having a disability is a certain level of assertion obnoxious in the abled but necessary for those who are not).

Big Hike 2011 - Alamere Falls

2011-04-07T18:31:00.000-07:00

I said I would write about the hike to Alamere Falls, and a Scout is trustworthy, so here it is. I should also point out that the addition of another Scout leader, more experience in photography than I, has exculpated me from the lack of photos herein.

We passed the bird sanctuary, and parked when we ran out of road. The weather was grey and chill, but everyone was in high spirits. We started walking north on the Coast Trail, past the picnic tables where less hardy souls might stop. The vistas of the ocean were stunning, and our path lay between a steep above and a steep below. There were several lakes along the Coast Trail, although most remained hidden from view, and those which were visible were small, even by the broad definition of the West. There was an element of track and field in our journey, for the recent deluge had brought down several trees and created stunted versions of the lakes along our path. None were so bad as the time my fellow trekkers discovered the end of a reservoir across our path, but they were big enough to present a dilemma. The haste of youth compelled many to keep a pace that forbade natural observation; the flora and fauna along the way were varied and denizens of mutiple biomes. There was plenty of miner's lettuce.The soup made from it is bland, but at least has less chance of poisoning the ravenous 49er than improperly prepared acorns.

We descended to Wildcat Camp, where we ate our lunch. The weather was still chill and windy. After all had finished their repast, we went down to the beach, or tried to. The path ended in a wide stream, impossible to cross without removal of shoes. Although such an action is one of the hazards of hiking, the temperature did not incline me to do this as a first option. One of the boys, however, leapt down from the collapsed mudbank and sank up to his knees. Others, less eager to cool their legs and feet, discovered the path across a higher and smaller part of the stream using logs: even here, a judicious leap was necessary.

The stroll along the beach to Alamere Falls was refreshing as a change from the usual packed dirt trails. The boys wandered close to the water and suddenly fled (with varying degrees of success) from the inrushing waves. The. Alamere Falls is a mile south of Wildcat Camp. It is forty foot high, and the recents rains had swollen it. The beach was very narrow here, so that the more timid boys had to retreat to the rock shelves below the cliff to remain dry. It reminded me a bit of Henneth Annu^n (although according to past Scouts, I should be in Orthanc, since they cast me as Saruman).

If Alamere Falls was like Henneth Annu^n, then the way up to the top of the falls was truly like the Pass of Gorgoroth (the movie version). The way up was hidden from a casual eye, steep and inconveniently stepped, and it would be inadvisable to look down. I would not recommend a second ascent, but everyone reached the top safely, and none will forget the experience.
The challenge of Alamere Falls, however, was not over. In order to reach the trail, it was necessary to leap across a deep channel, where a careless misstep would result in a twisted ankle at best. Some boys hesitated in their calculations, but eventually everyone made it across. It is sobering to think that this was a normal obstacle for my pioneering ancestors.

The weather worsened, as though the sky gods (and I don't know the name of the Miwok or Ohlone one) had been restraining themeselves until we were all homeward bound. The rain poured down and down, and did not cease. We were all eager to reach the shelter of the cars, but I marvelled at the sight of an ill-prepared trio headed out. One of the trio was carrying a city umbrella and wearing shoes more fit for Temple than trail. His female companion did not look pleased. I feel sure that their lack of preparation will strain their relationship. I was cold by the time we reached the cars, and made a note to protect my core more thoroughly next time.

'Comites' Before 'Clodia'

2011-03-16T09:01:00.000-07:00

Catullus' poem 11 continues his post-Lesbian life. If poem 8 is Catullus enduring the psychological travails of the breakup, poem 11 is his drunkenly exaggerated thanks to his friends, followed by a relapse into bitter anger.

Furius and Aurelius seem to have assured Catullus that they have his back, in a "bros before hoes" manner, and suggested a road trip. Although the actual suggestion is more likely to have been a trip to Baiae rather than Bithynia, Catullus exaggerates this offer to cover the entire world. It is unclear whether this is happily drunken fraternity or a test born from Catullus' lingering insecurity. The epic language and scale of the proposed world tour (11.2-12) could suggest either possibility. A world tour, however, is not what Catullus wants his friends to do; what he really wants is the delivery of an abusive message (11.15-24) to his former lover.

This message begins somewhat elegantly (11.15-11.17), as though it were a neoteric poem within another neoteric poem. The last word of 11.17, "moechis", marks the descent into abusive language. First, Catullus refuses to believe that Lesbia's sexual liaisons could have any element of true love (11.18-20), and then witholds the love he alone possesses (11.21). The last image of the poem, a flower in a field which has been fatally damaged by a plow (11.22-24), indicates not only sexual congress and the generation of a precious and beautiful thing, but also an affection that is dying, rather than dead, in Catullus' heart.

Shining Suns

2011-03-15T17:02:00.000-07:00

Catullus, in the eighth poem of his collection, has encapsulated the complicated feelings of a messy breakup. The poem opens with a wonderful expression (8.2), which may or may not be a proverb:

quod vides perisse perditum ducas
"what you know has died you should consider lost"

This is excellent advice, but cold comfort to one who had lost something precious.
Such sentiments, rather than sufficing - it is only the second line, after all -, spurs Catullus to dwell on what is lost. The perfect tense of "fulsere" establishes the connection of the past and present, while the following imperfects provide a sense of both pastness and frequency; it is notable that Catullus is the passive partner in these activities.

In line 8.9, Lesbia has rejected Catullus; Catullus retains his feeling of impotence, and even his attempts to get her back (8.10-13) are impotent and his self-pity pathetic. He must announce his renunciation of her to make it stick. The embarrassing antics of jilted lovers trying to revive the sparks ("soles") of a dead relationship is mixed with wavering self-confidence.

In lines 8.14-18, Catullus turns from strengthening his own resolve to degrading that of his former lover. Although the descent into rhetorical abuse is a stylistic demand of this poetic genre, it is also a realistic psychological depiction, the dark side of the irritating presumption of a unique relationship that lovers often display. It is testimony to the passion of the relationship that Catullus ends the poem not with a final sting to Lesbia, but one last reminder to himself (8.19).

Ad rem Aegyptiae intelligendam

2011-03-10T08:14:00.000-08:00

One of the forms of the Egyptian verb, and one which we recently studied, is called the "pseudo-verbal" form. This consists of a limited number of prepositions followed by the Egyptian "infinitive". The citation forms for the most common pseudo-verbals are transliterated conventionally as "Hr sDm", "m sDm", and "r sDm". Although it is difficult to describe concisely an English structural parallel, students of the Romulan tongue might find a better comparison between the Egyptian pseudo-verbal form and the Latin gerundive.

In this case, the Egyptian forms "Hr sDm", "m sDm", and "r sDm" correspond (with due allowance for prepositional semantics) to the Latin forms "de aliquo audiendo", "in aliquo audiendo", and "ad aliquid audiendum". The Latin trio, however, is crippled in its syntactical ability compared to that of the Egyptian, which can support a complex noun phrase.

Since the meanings of the constructions differ, I am presenting this as a mnemonic rather than a detailed grammatical analysis.

Strangers Passer-ing In The Night

2011-03-09T09:49:00.000-08:00

Ash Wednesday, and instead of penitence my thoughts turn to the passer poems (2 and 3) of Catullus. Since I was assigned poem 16 for St Valentine's day, I must wonder if the class is not meant as some sort of cosmic counterpoint. Maybe it's just part of the Chairman's plan (Philip K. Dick is always a good source of metaphors for the action of the Powers that be).

What can we make of poems 2 and 3? The first is a mock hymn, the second mock dirge, both of which follow upon the heels of poem 1. If poem 1 is a dedicatory epigram which provides the name of the dedicatee, the genre, and a devout desire for the work to last, then poem 2 is an invocation to the mortal goddess of the work. If poem 2 announces Catullus' infatuation with Lesbia, poem 3 describes its irrevocable end. These poems are as programmatic as poem 1 by providing the plot, such as it is, of a work characterized by variatio.

The passer, whose msgical companions pull the chariot of Aphrodite, appears only in these two poems because he has encompassed the entire book by being the book itself. The passer also represents the amores in the sense of physical poetry. That which Lesbia holds in her lap, to which she offers a finger, that which is a beloved comfort to her is the material on which Catullus' poetry is written. If we subscribe to this interpretation, the non-passerine lines 11-13 are not an aberration of overzealous annexation, but rather an appropriate comparison between the passer of Lesbia and the golden apple of Atalanta, both of which were instruments of unbinding girdles. The passer in poem 3 encompasses both the death of the poet as passer and the death of the poetry itself as evidence of a still-living affair. The terms with which the poet eulogizes the passer are actions characteristic of the lover (although the comment about being closer than family acquires ambivalence if Lesbia and Clodia are the same). The imprecation against Hades can be both metapohorical and literal: both the death of a pet bird and a love affair are things which cannot be undone.

Best of the Bath-Thieves

2011-03-02T21:26:00.000-08:00

I am greatly enjoying re-reading Catullus, although his subject matter often restrains me from public translation (at least aloud) into English. The two poems of which I speak here are poems 15 and 33, which share the hendecasyllabic meter and themes of breach of trust and travelling (forced or otherwise).

Poem 15 is about breach of trust. Catullus has entrusted his lover (I apologize for the euphemisms, but I know a few minors have found my blog before) to Aurelius while Catullus goes travelling. If I were inclined to attribute absolute historicity to individual poems of the Catullan corpus, I would say that Catullus displays extremely poor judgement in his choice of close friends - but then who knows how many of these violations Catullus himself committed? Lines 6-8 display an chummy elitism that suddenly descends into obscenity
in lines 8-9. This eloquent vulgarity continues to the end of the poem, where the ubiquitous labial plosives and nasals (p, b, m, ph) accumulate in the final insult of the poem (lines 17-18):
"quem attractis pedibus patente porta,
percurrent raphanique mugilesque"

In poem 33, Catullus wishes the titular bath-thieves, whose pricipal predilection to cutpursery is an inherent breach of trust, and whose other predilections are not fit for American minors to discuss, would leave Rome. The alliteration here is focused on p and q/c - the p's in particular are used to good effect(along with n) in the final lines (7-8):
"notae sunt populo, et natis pilosas,
fili, non potes asse uenditare?"

Hebrew, Hebrew Everywhere

2011-01-26T07:58:00.000-08:00

This morning at church, soon after the service had started, the Hebrew words within me rose. It is a peculiar sensation, and perhaps one applicable to me alone, that once I learn a sufficient amount of a language, the words arise unbidden in appropriate contexts. The trigger this time was the Hebrew/English Sh'ma, in Max Helfman's setting. Once my mind was primed, it was easy to think "Shalom aleichem" at "Lord be with you". If you have learned some basic Biblical Hebrew, the linguistic structure of the Psalms (in this case 27:1, 5-13) is glaringly obvious. My mental translation is partial and in places doubtless ungrammatical, but it is remarkable how many phrases in the service are automatically translatable - I already have switched from hearing 'Alleluia' as a rote response to an imperative plus the Name of the Most High.

Washo, Simplified

2011-01-25T08:18:00.000-08:00

I posted recently on my mental test of Washo, but it seemed appropriate to separate the results of that test from some speculations which arose from the difficulties experienced, cross-fertilized with thoughts from John McWhorter's Great Courses lecture series "The Story of Human Language" and some browsing of articles on Riau Indonesian. As I scoured a my gray fields for words in Washo, I thought to myself that simplified languages (creoles, mixed languages, and pidgins) start with a reduction of vocabulary to essentials. I recalled the words for "eat", "drink", "go", "have come", and so on, but remembered little of the specialized vocabulary. I remembered the words for "tree" and "rock", but not the species of those genera. The other possible simplification which I noted (but resisted for the sake of completing my test) was the difficulty in remembering the subject-object prefixes. Were I not such a diligent amateur linguist, I might have decided to forsake the daunting prefixal pine barrens in favor of the independent pronouns, easier to use. Why say "labali'a'" "he shot me", when you can say "le bali'a'" "he shot me", without having to consider the appropriate subject-object prefix and vowel harmony? I love the complexities of language, but that choice is based in aesthetics not pragmatism.

In reality, I could not imagine a mixed language developing which contained Washo as a component: the native speech community was too small and the Ute-Aztecan tribes around the Washoe formed a dialect continuum which offered a much better selection for a lingua franca - I am considering it for a Scout campfire. The Plains Native American seem to have preferred to learn Hand Talk (Plains Indian Sign Language) rather than yet another language with medium-complexity words such as "milelshymshihayasha'esi" "We two will not cause you to wake up."

A simplified Washo (and I am aware that the Washo with which I am familiar has already been simplified) would have the following features: it would be SOV, use independent pronouns where possible, and possess a reduced vocabulary. It would proabably use new words for negation and causation, since the current suffixes are too grammaticalized to survive (this isn't Esperanto, after all!). The glottal stop and the voiceless sonorant and liquids would disappear.

Washo Review

2011-01-24T09:14:00.000-08:00

As I was waiting for a friend this weekend at a BART station, I found myself with substantial time on my hands. After I had paced up and down a few dozen times, I decided to do a mental review of the Washo vocabulary I knew. This was a true test, as I had neither the book from which I learned it nor the dictionary which I created for the terms I had learned. I decided to start with the verbal roots (although there is no true distinction between verbal and nominal roots in Washo), since verbs are often associated with actions, and perhaps my muscle memory would aid the big grey muscle in my skull. The verbs went well; I could conjure up most of the basic verb roots, even if I temporarily flipped the verbs in the wake/sleep contrast. I even went over the reduplication process for certain plurals, although some verbs, such as 'dance', did not lend themselves to such project.

I experienced some difficulty in remembering the various movement verbs, of which there are many in Washo, more than in Russian. My eye for language patterns tells me that all these movement verbs are ultimately connected, but I lack a sufficient overview to analyze them properly. It was difficult to generate several, and I am sure I missed few: perhaps this reduction is typical of individuals who do not speak a language well (and, Lord knows, I stumble over the words of the Washo tongue). It is nice to distinguish between various means of locomotion, but a simple 'go' will suffice.

As confident in my verbal score as I could be without recourse to a lexicon, I decided to try to conjugate a verb for every combination of subject and direct object. Although this task was made simpler by the lack of grammatical number marking on the verb, a characteristic of many Native American languages, I had to pick two verbs because the subject-object prefixes differ if the root begins with a consonant or vowel. I was successful save in one regard: I could not recall the prefix for 'he Xs me' if the root began with a consonant. Nonetheless, I decided that I had passed my test with an A-, considering how long it had been since I studied the material.

(I notice that I have not finished the drafts of posts on the Washo language regarding vowel coloring and the development of subject-object prefixes. I need to remedy that and add something on the reduplication process of Washo.)

Duty and Responsibility

2011-01-23T20:51:00.000-08:00

I find myself in a solemn mood returning from The King's Speech, an excellent movie about George VI (Bertie) and his stammer. Although the focus of the movie was Bertie, I find my mind turning to the themes of responsibility and duty in the face of challenges. Sometimes we earn the rank bestowed upon us; sometimes we are not worthy of it. In either case, our duty is to perform our office as well as we are able, and not to shirk our obligations. If we neglect our appointed office, we make a mockery of our post, bring shame upon ourselves, and reduce our symbols of office to shiny trinkets not more valuable than a shiny tourist pin from the pier. Responsibility and duty means placing the needs of others before that of oneself, and by helping others we advance ourselves in experience and character.

MLK Hike 2011

2011-01-19T00:08:00.000-08:00

I had hoped to post my first post of the year sooner, but unforeseen events interfered.

The first Pioneer trip of the year - a three-day, two-night trip to test the mettle of youth and parents! After a late start, we arrived at our starting point in Henry Coe State Park, the second largest state park in California. The elevation gained by car was quickly lost by foot as we followed the trail to Poverty Flat. First, however, we followed Fish Trail, which led over hill and dale and had a conspicuous absence of fish. Several creeks brought false hope, which were cruelly dashed two or three times. The ascent from the ultimate creek to the ridge spread out our line of hardy travelers, but the reward at the crossroads was a well-earned lunch. This time of repast also allowed a chance to repair and reinforce faulty footwear before one stitch became nine.

Once we had surmounted the ridge, the descent to Poverty Flat began. Those timid souls who have not experienced the joy of hiking may not know this, but a continual downhill trail is in many ways harder on the soles than any other vertical-horizontal combination. I have seen worse, however, in the scree of the Sierra.
Before we reached Poverty Flat, we had to cross a stream two or three times, an omen of the next day's journey. The crossings were challenging, but not terribly so.

The Poverty Flat campsite (for Poverty Flat itself lay above us) was on the floodplain of a small mountain stream and lacked any of the amenities familiar to car campers, save for the world's cleanest outhouse in the middle of nowhere. The night air down in the hollow was extremely cold, but we had almost enough light to read, thanks to the nearly full moon which shone in icy glory high above.

In the morning cold and damp, we arose, refreshed and reinvigorated, and consumed hearty breakfasts in preparation for the day's journey. This was the longest day of our trek, since a camper observing the Outdoor Code must camp where the campsites are, rather than bivouacking where he pleases. Our first ascent of the day followed the old cow trail out of Poverty Flat to a crossroads. After another steep descent, we reached a confluence of two creeks, whose combined flow led into the ominously named "The Narrows".

Here a decision had to be reached: whether we ought to go up, around, and down the hill to China Hole, or brave The Narrows. Apparently the tortoise we found there had waited longer than his life allowed. After much spirited debate, and information from fellow travelers who had come from China Hole, we decided to go through the Narrows. This would prove a challenge to the younger and older members of our group. The older Pioneers showed their skill in helping others across the more difficult stretches, despite a few spills here and there. The scenery within the Narrows was certainly dramatic. After we had passed two rocks that reminded me of the Argonath, a formidable challenge presented itself: wading knee-deep water or climbing a slick rock to reach the stepping stones further down. All eventually made it across, and only one simple crossing of a smaller stream remained.

China Hole was a pleasant resting spot, where we took lunch and dried the equipment made wet by our Narrows traverse. A different group, who had descended from the campsite where we had yet to ascend, was disporting itself in the water.

The ascent from China Hole began steeply in the shade, then sun, but soon changed into a steady climb through buckbrush, planted to stabilize the hill after the 2007 fire. There were patches of oak, but even the most ardent naturalist would be hard-pressed to remain excited about another half-mile of buckbrush high enough to qualify for the Hampton maze. Eventually we reached the turn off, which would have allowed us to come from Poverty Flat much more readily, but then where would one's sense of adventure be? Adversity reveals character, after all.

Our campsite on Manzanita Point was slightly closer to car camping than that of the previous night (this one had tables and firepits). There was no wind and the damp so evident in Poverty Flat did not exist here. Many Pioneers decided to sleep under the stars. Ironically, I, who am known for shunning tents whenever possible, had set up my tent in false expectation of having to share it. Once I had set it up, it seemed a shame to not use it.

The one disadvantage of Manzanita Point was the water supply. Whereas in Poverty Flat we had ready access to a moving stream, here we had to draw water from a brackish artificial pond slightly down the road. Doubtless this would have seemed a small inconvenience to our ancestors, but it was a new experience for many of the Pioneers, and they organized a task force to collect water. Inexperience with such inconvenience made a another expedition necessary, and one insightful young man made yet a third trip.

That night we had a proper campfire, although the program was rather short. I acceded to telling a ghost story, but begged for a couple of minutes to compose my narrative. It was not my most polished effort, but it sufficed, I think. I would certainly be willing to try again, given more time to prepare.

On the third, we rose again and broke bread. The early morning reveille helped to some degree with a quicker departure, but what happened in the end I cannot say. I had volunteered to go ahead with the water crew. Once the group united and continued on its way home, there was some grumbling about yet another ascent, which would have been anticipated (intellectually, if not emotionally) if the map had been studied more carefully. The younger Pioneers, however, plodded steadily along, trusting that they would reach the end of the 16-mile journey. We reached the cars, changed, and returned to the city.

Flashlight Hike 2010

2010-12-07T07:15:00.000-08:00

This Saturday, a few (a very few) hearty souls set out for the Marin Headlands. The day was cloudy, but not particularly cold and free of rain. We ascended the first hill to the battery, where they have filled in the gun emplacement where once strange fish swam in dark waters. The view of the ocean was spectacular, and the crab boats did not seem so far apart from that lofty height. We continued to climb; the light began to dim, and the crab boats transformed from black dots to distant phosphorescent jellyfish. The path above the main road runs along the ridge, passing by the magazines filled with darkness and dank pools of water, lookout posts bereft of camouflage netting, and the collapsed roofs of old military shelters. These relics of coastal defense were the ideal sights for boys not yet brainwashed by the aggressively pacifist educational philosophy of our time. We continued to climb, and reached the Nike missile base. The fallen slabs of concrete platforms, which were in evidence last year, had been removed, and the site was safer, if no less windy, than it had been. After we had supped, we descended and increased our pace on the second leg of the trip. The trail was free of ruts, but noetheless steep in sections. Fortunately, we made the right choice at the fork where a wrong turn would double our overall travel distance. When we were walking along the side of the road, the party bus stopped for us, but we declined such softness and ease in favor of the long path to doughnuts and cocoa.

Gender Matters

2010-11-24T12:49:00.000-08:00

All too often, English-speaking students of European languages detest the "gender" (really noun class) systems of the language, and in seeking to dismiss that which they neither understand nor love, declare the system irrelevant. A system of noun classes, whether composed of three or fifteen sections, may be confusing to second-language learners, but the distinct features of a language are never irrelevant to its native speakers. Pope Benedict XVI's recent announcement about the use of condoms illustrates this point. The original book was written in German, the native tongue of the Pontiff, but translated into Italian. In the German, the word used to indicate rentboys and their ilk is "der Prostituierte", a masculine noun, but in Italian, "la prostituta", a femina noun. The use of the masculine noun in German led some to assume the Pope was referring solely to the members of the Theban Legion, while the Italian use suggests it applies to women alone (since Italian, true to its sensual nature has specific words for male companions). Although a quick glance at LEO reveals that the German masculine noun may encompass both genders, much to the dismay of the feminists and Riistoj, this error in understanding shows the distinctions which noun classes provide to their tongues.

(For those of you who must know, the Pope said his comments applied equally to the sexes, and condom use is merely a lesser evil than sentencing a fellow human being to a slow death through your own carelessness).

Camaldoli, Camaldola!

2010-11-18T15:47:00.000-08:00

On Sunday, I met a monk, and not just a monk but a genuine hermit who had reentered the wicked world to write a book and share his knowledge with the world. This anchorite was a member of an obscure branch, the Camaldolese, of the Benedictine Order. This branch, about which I previously knew nothing, had been influenced by the Cluniac reforms, but did not take the step of forsaking their Benedictine brothers, as the Cistercians did. Though few in number, the members are filled with faith, if this monk was any indication. We had a pleasant chat about the desert fathers and eremitical training; the life of a hermit is one which cannot be assumed lightly or without much thought and prayer. It is not a life to which I aspire, but God calls us all in different ways!

O Pioneers!

2010-11-17T07:50:00.000-08:00

While waiting for the Junior Woodchucks to organize themselves one Saturday morning, the tourists, joggers, and general vagabonds were passing by and descending to the Temple of Knowledge or entering San Francisco's sacred groves. One gentleman, however, of robust years stopped and seemed glad to see our merry band. His reason, however, was different from the usual one; he was not contemplating Scouts and Scouting, but rather the Young Pioneers the Communist doppelganger of Scouting. This gentleman grew up in East Germany, a thoroughly Communist state, and apparently missed the sight of uniformed patriotic youth. The differences between Pioneers and Boy Scouts were apparent in his misunderstanding of Scouts; or perhaps he was overlaying his experiences on a quite different program. His emphasis was on joyful and enthusiastic patriotism, rather more strongly than ever was said in our legion.

Most of my knowledge about Pioneers comes from two sources: a book on Scouting and similar programs throughout the world, my college Russian teachers, and (believe it or not) the Russian fantasy series Nightwatch. The emphasis on patriotism instilled in Young Pioneers (their uniforms are neat, but then Nazi uniforms look sharp also) is the self-same jingoism that the president demanded and the BSA refused during the war years of the 20th century. In other countries, such as the Maldives, the patriotic angle may come into play more; certainly, all these organizations, if well-run, contain an element of outdoorsmanship, and potential leadership.

I was too distracted by my duty in loco parentis to engage in extended conversation with the German gentleman, but it would be fascinating to hear from someone who actually was a member of the Young Pioneers.

West Saxon Side Story

2010-11-16T12:03:00.000-08:00

After the Beowulf performance, I found myself doubting my memory about certain features of the Anglo-Saxon language (I dislike the term Old English, as it implies more comprehensibility than it ought). So I took myself to the library to refresh my knowledge of Anglo-Saxon grammar and phonology. The most peculiar feature of Anglo-Saxon, in comparison to other Germanic tongues, is something called "vowel breaking", which affects the already rounded vowels /ae/, /e/, and /i/. By virtue of this process, the aforementioned vowels gain a following schwa and the new spellings /ea/, /eo/, and /io/, orthographic sequences which contribute the written aesthetic of the Anglo-Saxon tongue and confound the poor freshman studying pre-Norman history.

After I had relearned the constructed pronunciation of these diphthongs, both short and long, it occurred to me the peculiar (to my ear) vowels of West Country English owe much to vowel breaking. West Country English derives from the West Saxon dialect of Anglo-Saxon and it was that dialect which had the greatest degree of vowel breaking. When I was at boarding school, I had many opportunities to hear the staff using their West Country dialect, which I did not understand but nonetheless did not hold in contempt. At that time, I knew little about it except that these dialects tended to give voice to the voiceless consonants at the beginnings of English words; thus "fox" comes from the main dialect of Middle English, but "vixen" (a female "fox") comes from the West Country.

More recently, it also occurred to me that the perennial problem of English-speakers learning a Continental tongue, that is, the ubiquitous admonition of teachers and textbooks to pronounce long vowels as "pure" rather than with the characteristic semi-vocalic glide of the Englishman, may have its origin in vowel breaking. Although West Saxon exhibited the greatest degree of vowel breaking, none of the Anglo-Saxon dialects lacked it. This is speculation, however, and I do not presume to have evidence sufficient for a conference presentation.

Shadow Caitlin

2010-11-15T10:45:00.000-08:00

Recently, I went to a new science fiction book club, for which I had read Robert J. Sawyer's WWW:Wake, whose human protagonist is a blind teenage girl. Although the book itself was mediocre, I found the assertiveness of the blind girl to be realistic, even while her genius was not. The world of blindness is filled with dangers, ranging from the annoying to the deadly, and those who must navigate such a world often develop superb analytical skills. They also often develop an assertiveness bordering on rudeness, since most sighted people have never had consider the challenges the blind face. As my uncle once told me (in more colorful terms than I dare post here), you can't put one over on a blind person; reading non-visual cues is a way of survival.

The genius of the protagonist did irritate me slightly. Although all teenagers, at least part of the time, think that they are the smartest person on Earth, the tendency for any computer-savvy teen in a work of fiction to be a genius is absurd. The temporal exigencies of television programs mandate a facile ease with computing, but a written book need not bow to that god. Perhaps this is a example of Clarke's Law, not between men and godlike aliens, but between author and much younger character?

Hwaet!: Review of Beowulf

2010-11-12T17:59:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I forget how blessed I am to live in the Bay Area, with its plethora of theatrical options. On Friday night, I went with L. to Beowulf. I had planned to meet up with a fellow member of the SF Language Lovers Meetup group, but the exigencies of getting to the theater prevented this. The performer, Benjamin Bagby (whose name makes me think of the Hobbit), sat on a spare stage. A screen with supertitles hung over him; I am not sure which translation he had chosen. The performance was abbreviated to 90 minutes, since a full retelling of Beowulf would require the time my ancestors only had in the miserable wet winters. Bagby's voice was resonant and varied according to character and timbre of conversation - this is not an easy task while maintaining the metrics of epic poetry. Bagby took frequent breaks to refresh his throat, but the pauses were well worth the results. As Bagby continued to recite, I began to recognize more words without reference to the supertitles; this task was made easier by my familiarity with the plot. The performance was old-fashioned story-telling at its best.

Election Day

2010-11-02T12:05:00.000-07:00

Today is election day. I have already voted, but some reflections on voting are in order. Voting is both a privilege and a duty. The deprivation of voting privileges in circumstances were others do not suffer the same disability is painful, especially when the decisions affect you. Think back to your childhood: were there not times when your parents overruled your desires? Were you not frustrated by this? This denial of will, however, is appropriate for parents, since the child is not wise enough to make an informed choice. It is no accident that many systems which lack elections invoke the parental model of governance. The Little Father of Russia brooked no subordination.

If the right to vote is granted to the people, then they are not political children, but political adults. The inventors of democracy, the Athenians, understood this: our word "idiot" comes from the term for a citizen who refused to participate in the affairs of the city. As political adults, it is the duty of citizens to be as informed as possible about the decisions of this election cycle. This reason, along with the possibility of fraud, is why I do not support same day registration. The ballot, especially that of California, is complex, so I would give dispensation if someone did not vote for every position and proposition, as long as the ones on which the citizen voted are ones about which the citizen has informed himself as best he can.

2010-10-29T12:23:00.000-07:00

The confluence of events, or one might say, my wyrd, has conspired that on the very day I am attending a reconstructed live performance of Beowulf, I learned about St. Chad, who is the alleged patron of elections. Ever dutiful in my pursuit of truth, even at the cost of a delightful pun, I looked into this matter. According to truthorfiction.com, there is no patron saint of elections, which is suitable: elections, after all, in the hands of God, preferably via the High Priest using the Urim and Thummim. Saint Chad, or Ceadda, however, is a real person, probably the youngest brother of Cedd (also sanctified), Cynibil, and Caelin. The alliteration of the names is an Anglo-Saxon practice, but their etymology is Celtic, suggesting a mixture of (presumably aristocratic) Celtic blood into the Anglo-Saxon ruling class. All four brothers were ordained, and two (Ceadda and Cedd) became bishops. While the careers of the brothers bishop is worthy of note, the more important data here is the two domains of the paternally-connected patron saints. Ceadda became the patron saint of astronomy, while Cedd became the patron saint of interpreters. The vagaries of English diachronics ensured some confusion between the two, and either could be construed as Chad (note the later spelling), patron saint of elections.

I have been preparing for this evening's live performance of Beowulf by rereading passages from my glossed text of Beowulf. A glossed text is anathema to serious scholars, but has certain advantages. The reader is more engaged in the text than he would be when distracted by paragraph 11.17 of the grammar or technical terms. A glossed text might work better when the reader already knows the story. The glosses in this edition do not resolve the kennings, but rather allow the reader to familiarize himself with the typical components. The actual plot of Beowulf is spare, so much of the beauty of the poem is in the style. The constant variation of components for indicating the same item is a vehicle of poetic utility, but I do wonder if it is not the ancestor of some modern English style. Could the admonition of high school English teachers that one should not use the same word for the same concept multiple times in a row owe some of its force to the love of inventive language seen throughout classic English literature?

People's Republic of Parasitism

2010-10-27T12:19:00.000-07:00

In the course of my daily wanderings, I acquired a New Amsterdam Times. The international section contained an article on the latest shipment of food and aid to North Korea from the South.

The amount of food is paltry compared to the needs of the country, but the international implications disturb me. Ordinarily, I would extol feeding the hungry as a virtue, but the discord between the North Korean philosophy of juche and the begging of the North Korean government is stark. The Kim dynasty uses foreign aid as a way to propagate its regime while claiming self-sufficiency. Although the Christian aid groups behind the food delivery have noble hearts, the North Korean distribution mechanisms ensure that the food will go to those whose loyalty matters rather than those who are the hungriest. The suggestion of localized distribution is ananathema to a regime which believes in power and half-hearted Potemkin villages. Clothe the peasants, not the emperor!

A Poem

2010-10-26T10:10:00.000-07:00

Westfield dome on Friday night
Near the Playstation exhibit
Fools dancing to neon lights
To Mama Commerce is the profit.

Unto the Third Generation

2010-10-25T07:55:00.000-07:00

In light of Kim Jong-Eun's promotion to four-star general and official heir apparent (as official as it's going to get, anyway) and the simultaneous promotion of his aunt, I started thinking about the inherent stability of hereditary tyrannies, of which the government of North Korea is an excellent example, and remain skeptical about the duration of the regime. Regencies are dangerous times for any dynasty, and military support during such times can be a destabilizing force. On the other hand, the North Korea military is in a favored position, so it might contribute to a stable regime.

The history of tyrannies, however, does not inspire optimism. Most tyrannies collapse in the third generation if they have not already been overthrown. There is no chance that the North Korean populace will rebel - in fact North Korea reminds me of Apokalyps - but power struggles are possible even within a one-policy state. The economic structure of the country is so damaged that I suspect it will collapse quickly and messily when the final straw is loaded.

The Doors of Perception

2010-10-22T09:24:00.000-07:00

Oct. 21, 2010:
One of the items in the paper today (yes, I still occasionally read the dead tree daily) is the announcement that archaeologists have discovered . what may be the oldest door in Europe. The Methuselan mahogany is estimated at five thousand years old, and hails from Switzerland. The locale of the find is not surprising, since the lakes of the Helvetian Republic have revealed many archaeological treasures. The chief archaeologist, Niels Bleicher, describes the antediluvian door in somewhat effusive terms. Certainly, the door must have been sturdy to weather five millennia of environmental abuse, but I do wonder: how much of the description of ancient artifacts is in self-defense. I prefer stairs to cellar doors, and would hesitate to dismiss an artefact as insignificant due to its basic utility, but hoi polloi might well say, "Who cares? It's just a door, even if it is well-made." Yet it is the simple things of a culture that tell you the most: individually wrapped slices of synthetic cheese and unbiquitous redundant and downright insulting instructions tell you more about American culture than the the abstract of an ivory tower thesis on trash. The facile dismissal of ordinary things, although the result of knee-jerk anti-intellectualism, can lead to an equally erroneous reaction of overstatement. The archaeologists, in counteracting the public dismissal, place a greater emphasis than is warranted on their discovery. Although this reaction is not restricted to antiquarians (since everyone who believes in reincarnation wants to be a king, not a catamite), it seems that the more "ordinary" the object, the greater is this tendency.

2010 Canoe Trip

2010-10-21T15:15:00.000-07:00

NOTE: This should have preceeded the post on camping in the redwoods.

Last weekend I went the annual canoe trip with the Junior Woodchucks. This account is of necessity redacted and changed to protect the names and identities of the (sometimes not so) innocent. Sadly, there are no postable pictures, even ones of yours truly. The Russian river was its usual temperature and color (warm and slightly green), and the contingent of Woodcraft Indians was smaller than I would have liked. This year, however, lacked the swarming invertebrates of last year's trip. Luch was absurdly early, as usual, but that's the boys' call, not mine. The pullout for the canoes was a little too narrow and steep, and there was not quite enough shade. I pulled some water from the river, trusting in my iodine tablets.

In many spots along the river, there was choice: overhanging bushes where thhe current ran, or shadeless shallows where it did not. Fortunately, I had recently and finally disentangled my broad-brimmed hat (not a petasos, sadly) from my travel wallet, which had had remained in such condition since my return from the western Mediterranean, so the spiders in the bushes did not get in my hair.

There were the usual mishaps characteristic of a river trip, but my new dry bag held up admirably. I did not witness every rescue and recovery on the trip, but the two incidents in which I was involved were resolved satisfactorily. In the former case, all the equipment was recovered, and soon the spirit of the unfortunate pair recovered as well. The latter case was harder, since it involved a swift current and large branch; more than one person lost their grip during the operation and had to fight their way back upstream, but eventually the canoe was freed from the embrace of water and wood.

Some other campers had rather unsportingly taken some of our spots when we returned to our campsite next to the Pomo general store, but I suppose some people just don't have a sense of fair play. In any case, we adapted and consolidated and still had enough table for our food groups. The campfire that night was short, since the skits were done according to food group rather than patrol. Everybody already knew the traditional songs, so I was not as creative as I could have been, but I hope I made up for that on Tuesday.

On Sunday morning, we did not continue down the river, as we once did, but we did have a Scout's Own by the river bank. The seating was uncomfortable, but we had a nice discussion of the wildlife we saw on the trip, led by our own Daniel Carter. A stone skipping contest followed the Scout's Own. The swarming insects through which the stones were bouncing had a peculiar obsession with purely vertical movement which still baffles me.

Merks and Turks

2010-10-20T08:43:00.000-07:00

The integration crisis in Europe is continuing, both in France and Germany. The absurd and arbitrary nature of French clothing "restriction" has already been covered in this blog, but the most striking recent comment came from Germany's Angela Merkel, who claimed that the Turks in Germany must assimilate to Germany's Christian culture. The failure of assimilation or cultural synthesis is not in doubt, but what was most astonishing was this: that she claimed Germany's culture was Christian. Everything I have experienced and read about European culture suggests that Germany is not Christian, but secular. The Swiss incident earlier this year involving the minarets reinforces this impression. The French, of course, have turned secularism into a religion, although they have mellowed a little since the days of the Revolutionary calendar.

Recently I had a discussion with a friend, who is very religious and seeks the same. One of the attitudes which drives her batty is "culturally religious", in which the alleged member of a particular religion or sect does not hold the associated beliefs, but even ignores the practices. One cannot look into another heart, but one can examine the deeds.

When Merkel refers to German Christianity, she is using "Christianity" as code for "secularism". Although this secularism does not mesh well with the radicalizing form of Islam which the previously rather secular Turks have adopted, using the term "Christianity" is facile misdirection and as intellectually dishonest as American preachers who use "Christianity" as a term for the insidious "Gospel of Wealth".

Redwood Grove Camping

2010-10-19T10:18:00.000-07:00

There's nothing quite like a redwood grove for camping. It might be a bit dark beneath the giants (even the new growth), but the canopy provides the closest thing to a good roof that you'll find in the wild. The sparse ground covering is a blessing when you are clearing the area for your ground cloth, and the patches of redwood duff, if you can find them, are delightfully soft. Redwoods, however, feed off the fog, so make sure you have good rain gear!

Beginner's Assyrian

2010-10-01T07:58:00.000-07:00

My New Year's resolution is preceeding in fits and starts (sometimes precipitated by my absent-minded professor habit of forgetting where my books are, and sometimes by the plethora of projects on which I am working) but I have begun Beginners' Assyrian, trusting in the similarities to Biblical Hebrew to give me a leg up, not under any illusion that the differences would present challenges.

The first challenge, of course, was the gross mismatch between the radical-based Semitic morphology of the Assyrian language and the determinative- and syllable-based orthography of cuneiform. One of the motivations for the adoption, if not creation, of the Semitic writing system (I suspect) was this mismatch. It was as if the problem with English transcription and translation in both Chinese and Japanese were combined!

The second challenge was the Assyrian reduction of the proto-Semitic consonants under the influence of Sumerian, which possessed a radically different morphology. I had thought the non-pronounciation of 'aleph and 'ayin in Modern Hebrew (which I had been using as my model for pronouncing Biblical Hebrew) created enough difficulties. Assyrian, on the other hand, witnessed the collapse of six proto-Semitic consonants (and waw) into near-indistinguishable phonological effects. Since Assyrian is a Semitic language, however, the tridical structure applies, even if two of the consonants are so weak as so to disappear entirely!

The third challenge was the tendency towards vowel harmony in Assyrian, which appeared also in its sister dialect of Babylonian. Sumerian had vowel harmony, possibly mitigated by tonal differences, but even Hebrew shows evidence of morphologically-specific vowel harmony. Babylonian was the language that replaced Sumerian in that language's ancient heartland, aand thus experienced the greatest level of vowel harmony (although not to the extent that it destroyed the typical Semitic structure), and Hebrew experienced a very low level, but the effect on Assyrian lay between the two. One has to wonder how much of the vowel harmony within the Assyrian Empire was the result of the infamous deportation policies, which mixed many tribes who spoke similar Semitic tongues; thus they shared structural similarities but not necessarily vowels.

Take Me To The Stars

2010-09-30T08:19:00.000-07:00

The discovery of a another new planet around Gliese 581, just a score of light-years away from terra firma, shot my mood through the roof. The hyperbole of the astronomer making the announcement (assuming that the journalist did not strategically edit the quote) may be forgiven, since it is tremendously exciting news. The interested public, however, does need a reminder that most life is not on the human scale, and that Kal-El's homeworld probably wasn't in the greatest shape before it exploded.

The casual dismissal of planets unsuitable for sustained human existence, under which category most of the Gliese planets fall, distresses me and strikes me as ridiculously anthropocentric. Already in our system there are worlds covered in ice which may have life in hidden oceans, and if so, it won't be humanoid. Even if such planets lack life until a contaminated probe burrows into their subglacial depths, and even if the worlds of Gliese 581 lack any life, the study of these worlds is valuable in itself. If humanity ever does escape Earth's gravity well, it would be useful to know what sort of resources exist in the great beyond - any interstellar colony would only have what was in the system, after all. Even if humanity remains within the SOlar System and eventually dies out as the nineteenth race on Neptune, study of other worlds would inform us about geology, chemistry, and meteorology. Too bad teleportation is still at the sub-atomic stage!

Snakes, Sinners, and Saints

2010-09-12T13:42:00.000-07:00

It's Sunday, so it seemed appropriate that I study the "original language" on this day. I figure the Almighty wouldn't mind if I studied some Hebrew in order to read the words of his book. I am close enough to the end of Ross' "Introducing Biblical Hebrew" that all the reading exercises are taken from the Good Book (in this case, Gen. 2:15-24 at the end of Lesson 49). The repetition of roots in Hebrew oratory seems less absurd than the equivalent King James English. Is this the result of the diversity of forms in Hebrew compared to the paucity of English? Another benefit of reading the passages in Hebrew is the clear identification of prose from verse. This distinction is sometimes lost in the translations into other languages, and prose and poetry often do not fit well into the other genre.

The grammatical form du jour is the Qal passive (herein exemplified by לֻקֳחָה), which the Rabbinic Scholars appear not to have believed to exist, since the standard passive form corresponding to the Qal is the Niph'al. The vocalization for the Qal passive is identical to the Pu'al, but who knows if that's how David would have pronounced it?

On other news, I have moved my "Learn Maltese: Why Not?" (the real title of the book) and its accompanying workbook up to Tahoe. This does not exempt me from including it in my New Year's resolution, but shifts it to next summer's segment of the project. I re-read the grammar sections of the book and understood much more clearly after spending so much of my summer learning Biblical Hebrew.

The Tahoe Tongue: Phonology and Orthography

2010-09-02T15:10:00.000-07:00

I wrote this post about half a year ago, so my knowledge of the Washo language and its current state was considerably less, but the sentiments expressed herein remain authentic.

Several years ago, on one of my many visits to the Watson Cabin in Tahoe City, I bought a slim book labeled Beginning Washo, the language of the indigenous tribe which used to camp in summer around Lake Tahoe (in those days, only white people would be crazy enough to live there in winter). I went through the exercises, although too hastily to absorb them. I am afraid that is a common fault of mine, and one of the reason I discuss Washoe here is to pace myself.

More recently, I decided to redo the exercises (there are only twenty-two, after all) slowly and thoroughly, so that I would know the native language of the basin where I spend so much time. My conscience is rather severe about white men learning Native American tongues, especially when the tribe is still extant (as several members of my favored fraternity know), but all the data I could find on Washo indicated that it was a moribund language. "Moribund" in linguistics, means that a language will soon lack native speakers (the tribe itself still exists). The only website I could find on the Washo language did mention a training camp for the youngsters of the tribe, but it dates from 2000, and the precedents for attempted language revival are extremely depressing. I would rather know something about the language really spoken at Lake Tahoe rather than pretend it never existed.

Another reason I want to learn some Washo properly has to do with the mythology of the Tahoe basin. When I was a child, I was under the impression that there were no native people of the basin, since the Washo, and the same-named lake were clearly in Nevada, and they had only come up in summer. Some of this perception was perhaps due to my custom of spending summers there and winters in San Francisco. The lack of a native mythology bothered me, so I composed some myths about the origins of crawdads and minnows based on the landscape of my summer home. I found the alleged native stories from the mid-20th century Tahoe City World un-credible as authentic stories, as well as patronizing.

When I was quite a bit older, I learned of some of the genuine traditional tales of the Washo, which I appreciated greatly, but I did not become inspired until I found Beginning Washo. My Classical training has taught me about the tight connection of language and culture, and I would not have received a Classics degree if I were not fascinated with language structure.

Solresol

2010-08-31T17:47:00.000-07:00

Solresol is an invented language of the 19th century based on the seven notes of the C major scale, although in principle one could use any seven-note scale. This may seem an odd origin for an a priori system, unless one realizes that the inventor, one Francois Sudre, a French patriot, had developed it for military communications before the invention of the telegraph. This musical origin explains the use of relative length and stress in determining gender and plurality, and the profoundly non-anthropic use of a pause after every word. Sudre, a native French speaker, was still bound by the gender and number constraints of his mother tongue. Sudre's musical language was deemed brilliant, but unusable by the French military, which devastated the patriot. Since his system rested on the use of seven distinct units, there was no restriction in principle to the realm of music or speech. Sudre developed Solresol formats based on noise, touch, color and other media. All this creativity took place before Gallatin and the invention of Braille, so a communication system for the blind, the deaf, and the mute was a pressing concern for creators of invented languages or those who serves the disadvantaged communities. Whereas previous a priori languages had categorized concepts in a tree familiar to present-day biology students, Sudre used a series of notes or repetition of the same note to indicate the categories. Since Solresol had to be spoken as well as played and sung, the words were monophonic rather than polyphonic. Solresol suffered from this characteristic flaw of logical languages: the systematic categorization of concepts result in similar concepts sounding too similiar in phonology. This, in fact, may have been one of the reasons for the French military's rejection of Solresol. For some years, Sudre toured Europe promoting his language, but the audiences tended to view Solresol as an ingenious parlor trick rather than a valid method of communication.

Solresol enjoyed a brief popularity at the end of the 19th century, but then died out. Its infamy among those who are interested in logical and creative languages stems from its inherent bizarreness, while other, more conventional spoken systems have been forgotten. The Esperanto Wikipedia, naturally, has an extensive article on it. I suspect it was more tolerable to hear in the days when every cultured person was expected to play an instrument or sing. I suspect there were severe constraints on its flexibility and ability to create new vocabulary, but the current resources I can find on Solresol are so meager it is hard to be sure. There is a grammar (http://mozai.com/writing/not_mine/solresol/sorsoeng.htm), but the dictionary is missing, and somehow I doubt that the early 20th-century Paris address is still valid. I have watched an extraordinary video of the balcony scene in Solresol
( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CK9lspk0hAM )
( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zf83Z1rUMCo&feature=related )
and the band Melomane has a song called Solresol
( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XPISqn7VfNY )
, although the song is neither in Solresol nor, I suspect, translatable into it due to the presence of of flats and sharps in the song. The most famous, if unnoticed, use of Solresol in modern media is its use as the language of the aliens in Encounters of the Third Kind
( http://www.imdb.com/find?s=all&q=encounters+of+the+third+kind ).
This seems to be an homage to the use of Esperanto as a non-descript human language in films set "abroad", and explains why the notes at the end have the feel of a language, despite their brevity.

The Tahoe Tongue: Clusivity vs. Number

2010-08-27T21:50:00.000-07:00

One of the features of Washo unfamiliar to speakers of Indo-European languages is the concept of clusivity (whether the addressee is included in the pronoun). Clusivity in natural languages is restricted to the lst person plural, possibly because the plural of 'I' perforce includes another person. The two other grammatical persons available for this purpose are the 2nd ('thou') and 3rd ('he'). Some languages, such as Tok Pisin, do have combinatorial forms with both 2nd and 3rd, but this may be the result of the newness of the language and the ease with which the components of pronouns of Tok Pisin can be self-segregated. Washo has two suffixes, dual -ši and plural -hu, to distinguish the inclusive forms of the indicative from the exclusive (the jussive forms are -še and -hulew). The inclusive indicative suffixes may also be used on nouns. So far, this is not exotic from the linguistic point of view, but the treatment of independent pronouns in Washo shows an transformation of this system from clusivity-based to number-based.

Many Native American languages, among which Washo is included, treat grammatical number as optional; many plurals have a different shade from the corresponding singular. There are occasions, however, when it is necessary to be more specific about the person and number of the subject or object. In these cases, Washo does have a series of independent pronouns. I suspect that the prefixed pronouns of the Washo verb developed from a prior series of independent pronouns without number distinction, but I will save the detailed analysis of that phenomenon for another post. The independent pronouns of current Washo are based on the following stem: 1st person lé:, 2nd person mí:, 3rd person subject gí:, and 3rd person object gé:. The 1st and 2nd persons lack a subject/object distinction, depending on the subject-object prefix of the verb to disambiguate. The 1st person dual pronoun is léši. Note that it is not automatically parsed as inclusive. The suffix -ši has changed from a marker of inclusivity to one of duality. Even if the 2nd person dual pronoun míši acquired -ši as a sign of proxy clusivity, it has come to mean to indicate duality, since the 1st person dual has an extended form léšiši, in which the -ši suffix is attached to léši; this form means "we two (inclusive)".

There is no such reanalysis of the verbal suffix. The verbal form "you two are singing" is the same as "thou art singing" or "you-all are singing". All of these forms would be míšmi. Even though the clusivity suffixes do not have an absolute slot in the series of verbal suffixes, they always appear relatively close to the verbal root, and therefore do not have the flexibility of the independent pronouns.

Korean Number Woes

2010-08-26T14:54:00.000-07:00

Current varieties of English find one set of numbers sufficient. I exclude binary on the pirnciple that it is not used for counting except as a geeky in-joke. I must specify current English because there were rural systems of counting, in formerly Welsh areas such as Cumbria; the non-English system was restricted to counting herd animals, a limited but very important semantic domain for the local culture. In Korean, and I believe Japanese also, there are two counting systems: one native, and one adopted and adapted from the Chinese spoken at the time of contact. A comparison that might make more sense to those who only know Indo-European languages: this situation is as if Slavic-speakers counted numbers using Slavic numerals, but counted things using Greek.

I can more readily recognize the Sino-Korean numbers, thanks to the small amount of Chinese I learned (sadly, the lack of oral practice has made the tones nigh-impossible). Most of the numbers are easily recognizable, although I did briefly find the Sino-Korean vs. native Korean distracting. The use of Sino-Korean numerals as count nouns accords with the isolating, SVO, head-final nature of Chinese, while the agglutinative, SOV, head-final structure of Korean precludes count nouns except as a borrowing from culture languages of the area (i.e., Chinese). The head-final feature of Korean, however, does provide a convenient location for the count noun. The optionality of the plural suffix - a not uncommon feature of non-Indo-European languages - in Korean also makes the count nouns welcome.

More Hebrew

2010-08-12T19:52:00.000-07:00

I have mastered the chapter on the I-Yod, I-Waw, I-Waw/III-Guttural verbs and the one on III-He' verbs. The next challenge is the Doubly-Weak verbs. The exercises are moving more towards actual Biblical content! That is a good thing, not just because it is my goal to read the Tanakh in the original Hebrew, but also because it provides a check on my many errors without a teachers' guide. I managed, however, to get through the exercises with only one point of confusion. The last translation exercise in the III-He' chapter was composed of four verses from Jeremiah (4:23-26) - I've never been more excited reading about desolation and depopulation! I have also noticed increasing signs of etymological two-letter roots among the roots with "weaker" consonants, and more words of high frequency. This is not surprising, since the most common verbs of a language are often irregular - or if regular, use an uncommon pattern. The number of synonyms for generic Biblical actions and feelings is also increasing, while leads me to believe that the recitation of the Tanakh in Hebrew is less snooze-inducing (at least in terms of the variety of roots) than the standard English translation.

Birthday Trip

2010-08-10T08:51:00.000-07:00

It's been five days and I have the pictures, so I suppose I should write about my birthday trip.

This year the whole family, minus the younger brother, headed down the hill into the desert towards Pyramid Lake. There was some trouble along Mount Rose, so we went down via Truckee instead, past the old power plant. Once we headed north from Reno, we began to enter the real Nevada and it was easy to see why the region had been settled by family bands rather than larger units. The destruction of the pinyon trees and the consequent desertification of the landscape did no good, either.

We reached Pyramid Lake and I was astonished at the shade of blue. I was assured that it was a frequent color for desert lakes. The eponymous Pyramid, an island-rock, lay next to Anaho Island on which the pelicans (I was initially surprised that Washo had a word for them) lived with many other breeding colonies. I had to indulge my inner anthropologist and take notes on the information sign. The simplistic and inaccurate orthography of the sign, pandering the linguistically illiterate, somewhat annoyed me, but the sign did provide substantial detail for the size of its font. Each Paiute band (since Pyramid Lake was Paiute rather than Washo territory) was centered around a water source and named after a characteristic food. In the case of Pyramid Lake, that food was the cui-ui, an archaic-looking indigenous fish, which was stranded there as the enormous glacial lake evaporated. Puff, who had been somewhat listless from the heat, found the environment of Pyramid Lake congenial, and wanted to explore the doubtless rattlesnake-infested bushes. There were groups of people day-tripping by the lake (which requires a permit from Nixon) and the the road north abruptly degenrated into bone-jarring rocks. I do mean rocks, not gravel. So we turned around.

We went through the surprisingly charming town of Nixon (headquarters of the Pyramid Lake Reservation) and headed east towards Fallon. The towns were conspicuously greener than the surrounding desert, but the area near the road showed evidence of water. It was not deep desert. Before we reached Fallon, we headed back towards the Lahontan Reservoir. It was larger than I had realized, but the outskirts of the adjacent town had a shabbiness typical of Nevada towns. On the way to Carson City - which is the capital of Nevada, not Reno or Las Vegas- we passed the Kit Kat Ranch and the Bunny Ranch, since Nevada is a land where many bad habits can be indulged without fear of prosecution. Dad expressed an urge to take the now-completed railroad line from Carson City to Virginia City. That would be fun, but it will have to wait until next year. Carson City itself is quite charming, and illustrated the virtue of having separate commercial and capital metropoleis. It would be worth a day visit. We returned to the mountains, and celebrated at home in the evening.

The shade of blue in this photo is slightly darker than

in real life.

You can see the Pyramid to the left of Anaho Island

Not a desert dog, but happy nonetheless

(Ex)clusive Amator

2010-08-06T20:29:00.000-07:00

Often the minor details of languages and the quirks of their dialects fascinate me - and I mean that in its root sense of bewitching so that the bewitched must think about his love, be it a grammatical feature or nubile young maiden. In this case, what has bewitched me is not some Thessalian hussy, but a regional clusivity distinction in the Beijing dialect of Mandarin Chinese (which, incidentally, is not quite the same as Standard Mandarin Chinese). Clusivity, as I have written elsewhere, is the distinction between the inclusion of the addressee or his exclusion from the first person pronoun. It is an open question whether one would prefer the blunt clarity of the exclusive pronoun ("zan2men" vs. "wo3men"), or the awkward correction of the meaning of the first person plural in languages which lack a clusivity distinction. In the languages of East Asia, all of which appear to have or have had forms specific to status as well as person, some of the distinctions may have arisen as a separation of plural forms into distinct semantic spheres, although I suppose phonological change could have disguised related roots. Certainly, it took me a moment to connect Sino-Korean 'ku' and Mandarin Chinese 'jiu3' as the number '9'. The clusive forms of Tok Pisin (yumi vs. mipela) are, unsurprisingly, morphologically transparent, but sufficient time could disguise its origins. It is noticeable that the Mandarin exclusive form (the one which is clearly and analogically related to the first person singular "wo3") is the one favored by speakers who do not make the distinction. This is a case of analogical levelling, encouraged by the transparent system of plural formation. It makes me wonder whether the "men" of the Chinese plural is not generic plural marker that somehow became restricted to pronouns.

A Persistent Gadfly, or a Linguistic Socrates

2010-08-02T18:49:00.000-07:00

I do not know why this bothers me so, but ever since I read about this linguistic feature, the mystery of its origin has haunted me. I understand the rest of the sandhi rules for the Bahasa Melayu verbal prefix meng-, but the rule regarding the voiceless plosives (p, t, c, k) baffles me. I could be content with knowing the rule by which it functions in contemporary language, but anyone familiar with ceaseless linguistic curiosity would find that unlikely. I am probably the only person to regard a German grammar review as appropriate airplane and airport reading when I am not going to Germany nor am I preparing for a graduate oral exam. So I still want to know the origin.

When the verbal prefix meng- is placed before the initial consonant of a BM root, certain changes take place. If the initial consonant is nasal (m, n, ng), the velar nasal of the verbal prefix disappears in favor the nasal initial consonant. This does not surprise me, since assimilation of the -ng- is the path of least resistance, and the marked preference in BM for CV syllables would encourage degemination of the sequence of two nasals. If the initial consonant is a voiced plosive (b, d, g), the velar nasal of the verbal prefix first assimilates to the place of articulation, then bonds with the plosive to form a prenasalized voiced plosive. This process also does not surprise me. If the initial consonant is a voiceless plosive (p, t, k), however, the plosive disappears after the expected assimilation to the place of articulation; this is a behavior I would have thought more apt to the voiced plosives. Since prenasalized voiceless plosives (the expected intermediate step) are permissible within roots such as nampak, perhaps the difference has something to with the morpheme boundary of meng- and the relevant root; but so far I cannot construct the sequence of phonological adjustments.

Korean Question

2010-07-19T20:01:00.000-07:00

I was studying Korean on a Byki program and came across this sentence fragment "...ko shipeundeyo" means "I would like ...". Fair enough. But Korean is an inflected language, like Latin or German, so it is necessary to know what suffix the word for the desired object would use. There are too possibilities here: one is that the desired object requires the accusative suffix (-reul or -eul); if so, the sentence "I would like a rabbit" would be "Tokkireul ko shipeundeyo". The other possibility, which I am inclined to favor in the absence of a grammar, is that the "ko" is the direct object of "shipeundeyo" and that the desired object would take the topic suffix (-ga or -i). Thus "I would like a rabbit" would be translated as "Tokkiga ko shipeundeyo", which is literally "As for the rabbit, I would like it." This structure, if correct, would be parallel to the structure of the question "Where is the hotel", which is "Hoteri eodi isseoyo", literally, "As for the hotel, where is [it]?". But if somebody who speaks Korean could clarify this for me, I would greatly appreciate it.

Palawa Kani

2010-07-13T19:12:00.000-07:00

I am an enthusiast of languages, especially those that are moribund or reconstructed, but Palawa Kani is one of a kind. The individual features of the language are not extraordinary: many languages are creoles, or the language of post-colonial aborigines, or treated as cultural artifacts, or inspired by a need for cultural unity. I have never seen a language that combines these features in such a way, and I am simultaneously impressed and skeptical of its success.

Palawa Kani is a Aboriginal Tasmanian creole intended as a cultural language for the descendants of pure-blooded Tasmanians; it is constructed from the extant words of the Tasmanian languages and set to English word order. The Tasmanian government, in a fit of either white guilt or mainland cultural envy, is willing to support the idea. Once the idea of the savage has been abandoned, governments often promote the idea of the noble savage.

The paucity of extant Tasmanian Aboriginal words is a boon here; several endangered languages of the world do not help themselves by debating which of the dialects, all with too few people, should be the official one. The two camps of the Cornish revivalists have reconciled warring orthography (but two pronunciations) and issued official workbooks for their new Welsh-style creches, but then it's hard to get EU funding without official materials. A language that has been gutted, such as one of the languages of the California coast, may have no option, lacking sufficient grammar, other than making sacred the few remaining words.

The Tasmanian adoption of English seems to have left the languages bereft of current technological terms, although the technological level of the aboriginal population at the time of the European arrival suggests that the terms never existed. Avoidance of neologisms is a quick way to kill a fragile language; even if the language is intended as a second language and meant to place emphasis on the differences, such as the deliberately hamstrung Toki Pona, a healthy language must be able to coin new phrases, if not new words. The phrases will wear down to words later. One of the difficulties that Welsh, otherwise a relatively healthy minority language, faces is the use of Welsh in only certain contexts, even though the Cymrophones could use it in other situations.

The characterization of Palawa Kani as a creole is linguistic rather than judgmental, and the extant resources and speakers suggest a creole as the realistic option, but the associations of the word 'creole' are a liability. Creoles in Australia have names like Broken, indicating the low esteem in which they were held, and the breeding grounds were miserable camps. The use of English word order (SVO, modifier before modified word) is not far off from the syntax of global creoles (even though English IMO never was a creole), and if divergent word order is sufficient to break with tradition, then the SVO order of Modern Hebrew indicates it is not a "true" descendant of Biblical Hebrew, in which the word order is VSO. The absence of grammatical number in the 2nd personal pronoun, however, seems a little odd outside of English or a tongue which dispenses entirely with the plural; most languages which do not mandate a plural form at least possess a way of forming one if it is absolutely necessary. The holes in the grammar presumably are the result of a developing project.

This is a very new tongue, but unlike the Native American languages, it seems to have some funding and enthusiastic participants. When I first examined Washo, it seemed in a more perilous state than now. I look forward to seeing how Palawa Kani develops and thrives.

I'd Hate To Be A Boy At Hebrew School on the Weekend

2010-07-01T18:08:00.000-07:00

I have reached the chapters in my Biblical Hebrew book which deal with irregular verbs; these appear to compose the bulk of the book. Now I can see why the rabbis felt the need to put vowel points; the “tense” can remain recognizable while the correct pronunciation is still hidden, the opposite of European languages. That semantic transparency is also one of the beauties of Egyptian hieroglyphs, the study of which I have been neglecting while I concentrate on Hebrew.

As I have progressed in Hebrew, I have discovered the underlying reason why the Semitic languages are described as “heavily lexicalized”, i.e., you have to know the language well to read it. The interwoven structure of consonants and vowels makes unnecessary (at least for the fluent L1 speaker) many of the prefixes, suffixes, and qualifiers found in other languages. There is no grace period in which the foreigner with stumbling tongue can recognize affixes by which he may find meaning. I suppose I should be glad I am not studying Arabic, with its plethora of broken plurals and guttural consonants that are actually pronounced.

Losing Cases, Retaining Cases

2010-05-02T16:26:00.000-07:00

I have finished the exercises in the Modern Greek book which had sat on my shelf for many years. I realize that written exercises are no substitute for actual conversations, but in the contemporary world it is useful to know a substantial amount of grammar before joining an online language group. It is extraordinarily embarassing to abort a conversation that has barely begun.

Modern Greek (by which I mean here Δημοτική, Καθαραίβουσα, and the actual language of the street) has several features immediately familiar to the student of Homer and Herodotus: one of these is the case system.

The case system (less the dative) has survived which pleases me, but surely appalls others. The survival of the case system in Modern Greek and its loss in the Romance tongues might be the result of the stress-and-pitch patterns of Greek and Latin. Greek started with a pitch accent, which eventually shifted to a stress accent; a process which was accelerated by the increase in non-native speaker during the period of the dialects of Κοινή. Latin appears to have always possessed a stress accent, but it shifted from a universal first-syllable stress (presumably the effect of the Etruscans, who had an even stronger version of initial stress) to the penultimate/antepenultimate system of Classical times. After pitch accent and many cases of vowel length had been sacrificed on the altar of expediency, the striking differencebetween the Greek and Latin stress systems was the absence of any accents on the ultimate syllable in Latin. The movement from a primarily case system to an analytic system occurred in both languages, but the evanescence of the Greek case system was retarded by the existence of nouns stressed on the final syllable. Stressed syllables are more resilient in the face of impending doom that unstressed ones, and can provide a paradigm for replacing or repairing ending of words accented on the penultimate and antepenultimate syllables. Latin, lacking this reinforcement mechanism, could not halt the accelerating pace of grammatical reanalysis.

The Tahoe Tongue: Stand Up, Y'All!

2010-04-20T22:25:00.000-07:00

The second form of Washo which Jacobsen presents is the imperative prefix (the command form) on vowel-initial stems. Just as the prefixes of the previous lesson disregard the distinction between singular and plural, so too does this prefix ignore grammatical number. Another feature which has carried over from the previous lesson is “vowel coloring”; the imperative prefix ge- changes íme' 'drink' into géme', but á:hu 'stand' (plural) keeps its a in gá :hu. The vowel coloring which changes the i to e normally ends at the first consonant (including h), but the glottal stop lacks sufficient vigor to prevent further change. The imperative, therefore of the root í'is 'to hold, take, bring', is gé'es, and that of í'iw 'eat (something)' is gé'ew.

The most interesting feature introduced in this lesson is one which the Anglophone who is less experienced with non-Western languages might miss; yet it is a characteristic feature of Washo. The verb form á:hu means 'stand', but only with a plural subject.; there is a separate singular form, which will be introduced later. The imperative gásaw 'laugh!' can be addressed to one or many, but gá:hu 'stand!' can only refer to more than one. Languages which do this are said to have 'pluractionality', which may seem strange, but if some languages indicate grammatical number on both the subject and the verb, and some only on the subject, why shouldn't some indicate it only on the verb?

The Very Eσσence of You (Singular)

2010-04-19T17:23:00.000-07:00

As the wheels of progress in Modern Greek became bogged in the mud slough of the passive (something with which, no doubt, any students of Classical or Koine Greek can identify), it was amusing that Hellenophones, ever resistant to the collapse of conjugations, such as occurred in French and English, have restored, once again, the sigma to the second person singular forms of the passive.

The change of [s] to [h] and thence to oblivion is a common process in the history of languages, and but this change affects Indo-European languages (of which Greek is one) particularly severely because the [s] marks the difference between the second and third persons, i.e., between 'you' and 'he'. Languages which which lose the sound sense between these two forms (and possible examples of such appear as early as the Hittite Empire) must make presonal pronouns obligatory; the guardians of the Greek tongue strenuously resist this aspect of analytical languages. Classical Greek uses the sigma, in various positions, as the marker of second personal singular, the future, and the aorist. The second person singular of the present active form (λυεις, “you loose”) is already a restoration of the consonant from the second person singular of the imperfect form (ελυες, “you were loosing”), although the resurrected sigma, like a borrowed letter of the alphabet, was placed after the new long vowel (ει) rather than between the two former short vowels where it had existed before (*εσι). The sigma of the future was restored in the empty position (sigmata?) between the vowels of the verb on the analogy of the sigmas which followed consonants, but not for every verb.

The damage, however, that the disappearance of future sigma caused does not compare to the jarring contractions from the absence of sigma in the present and imperfect of the medio-passive verb. This disruption appears most clearly in the student recitation of verbal endings, in a singsong voice and with frequently wrong syllabic stress, when the pleasant symmetry of the trisyllabic first and third person forms fails to appear in the second person and contracts (ηι < *εσαι, ου < *εσο), thereby hiding the characteristic vowels of these particular conjugations. Classical Greek possesses many contracted forms of verbs (three classes, in fact), but usually all six forms are contracted, not just one. The historian Herodotus' Ionic dialect shuns most contractions (and some contractions are probably the result of Attic or Atticizing editors), but even there the asigmatic second person (εαι) causes the tongue to stumble.

The preservation of the (medio)passive form in Modern Greek is not startling, given the large number of mediopassive and deponent verbs in Classical Greek, but the restoration of the sigma in the second person form (in the linguistically historical form εσαι, no less, even if the pronunciation has slightly changed) provides a symmetry and sensibility of the passive forms, and fits well with the extensive analogical remodeling of the Greek verbal system.

The Tahoe Tongue: Blankets, Blood, and Bone

2010-04-09T17:41:00.000-07:00

The first "grammatical" chapter of Jacobsen's Washo grammar - it seems to be a language learning book tradition to treat proper pronunciation as a section before a chapter - discusses possessive prefixes on vowel-initial stems. A complete Washo "word" always begins with a consonant, of which the glottal stop is one. The expected three persons, a grammatical trinity appear here, with a fourth, more neutral, form, but there is no distinction of number. The ways of plurality and duality will be revealed in later chapters, but the idea of plurality seems less central to Washo than English. This, I am given to understand, is fairly common among North American indigenous languages, and certainly many Spanish and Chinese primary language speakers drop the English plural and find context sufficient.

The method by which the language indicates a possessor is prefixation. Thus 'my house' is láŋal, 'your house' is máŋal, and 'his/her/its/their house' is ťáŋal. Since Washo is a language in the real world, naturally this elegant system comes with a few notes. The first person prefix is not l-, but le-, in which the superscript e indicates that the /i/ of a root becomes /e/ after the first person prefix. This 'vowel coloring' will appear in later prefixed forms. What is necessary now is to note that the series 'my blanket, your blanket, his blanket' appears in Washo as lépi?, mípi?, ťípi?, in which the root is 'blanket' ípi?. The other caveat about these forms is that there exists a fourth form, d-, which indicates no particular possessor. The d- prefix, however, does not occur on every form. Vowel-initial stems for words which indicate physical relationships or parts of the body that would identify the species must take ť-. The physical relationship requirement is the clearer of the two categories; íyeš means 'daughter-in-law', and one must be a daughter-in-law in relation to someone else. The latter category can be best illustrated by two roots: ášaŋ, 'blood', and á:daš, 'meat'. The source of blood, prior to the modern era, was not immediately identifiable if the source had departed, but the source of meat could be identified by the meat itself. Rattlesnake tastes different (and worse, so I'm told) than venison. Thus dášaŋ and ťášaŋ are valid forms, but ťá:daš is the only valid form for its root.

Aloha Judd

2010-04-08T17:05:00.000-07:00

I have decided, with much reluctance, to abandon Judd's Hawaiian grammar. Neither the antiquity of the book nor the paucity of the 'okina has forced this decision; the former has a certain appeal to me, and the latter provides a more realistic way that English speakers would render words and places in Hawaiian. The rising complexity of the grammar, however, has proven difficult without an answer key in the back of the book or a native speaker, and I find learning material in the wrong way a more grievous sin against the goddess Grammar than learning it correctly after a delay. As I have noted, this is a painful and disappointing decision, given the fascinating features further down the path, but I feel it is the right one. But fear not! I shall not abandon my linguistic browsing, but merely seek sustenance in other fields.

How Stupid Is "You"?

2010-04-05T17:18:00.000-07:00

One of the infuriating aspects of translation exercises in which one of the languages is English is the ambivalence of "you". Although the standard varieties of English are content with this ambiguity, an informal style which arose from an excess of formality, the common language is not, as the proliferation of forms such as "yous", "y'all", and "yinz" attests. If the exercise in question involves English only, the ambiguity remains a minor annoyance. If another language which does not treat familiar forms so cavalierly enters the situation, the :"you" problem becomes critical. Many European languages use the second person plural as a polite singular, and others retain the simple singular/plural distinction. Often I use "thou" in my language notes, thereby transforming the familiar term to a technical one, and eschewing the hideous parenthesis (pl). This method, however, is analogous to the abbreviations we all have used in note taking - it suitable for private use, but would confuse and annoy those from whom we recieve grades. In Latin and Greek learning texts, the distinction is clearly marked, and expected to be noted, but in more casual texts of the modern languages, the poor Anglophone does not know which to use. At least in European countries politeness is the criterion rather than ethnicity!

Easter Adjustment: Perhaps This Is the 2012 Big Change

2010-04-03T15:28:00.000-07:00

This year and next, the Western and the Eastern Churches celebrate Easter on the same weekend rather than one or two weeks apart. Although one of the advantages from my (admittedly selfishly aesthetic) perspective of the Easter schedule differential is the ability to fulfill my obligations and also attend an Orthodox service (even an ordinary Orthodox service is worth experiencing once), this calendrical concordance presents an opportunity to harmonize the Easter dates. Such an action has precedent; there were far more than two dates for Easter in the ancient Christian world, just as there were multiple dates for Passover within the Roman Imperium. The discordant dates (thankfully now reduced to two) appeared again when Pope Gregory consulted his astronomers and found that the Western Calendar had slipped 11 days; so he decided that the year would lack 11 days (calendrical and orthographical reform are two of the few benefits of autocracy). The change was not adopted all at once; the Catholic countries adopted it, but the Protestants were not about to change their calendars at the word of someone whom they deemed the Anti-Christ. The Protestant businessmen, who had Catholic contacts, eventually prevailed upon their respective governments to adopt the Gregorian reform. The difference in calendars had become entrenched by the time the Russian government decided to change, but by the end of the twentieth century, the only area in which the Easter date remained different was the Orthodox calendar.

It would be a great show of Christian unity if the Easter calendar could be made to harmonize. It is not dependent on a point of theology (then, neither, is the celibacy of Catholic priests), so the many disputes are moot. The past half-century has seen much smoothing over of previously prickly arguments. Next year is also a "shared" year, so the time is short for harmonization.

Who would lead in this adjustment of the calculation of Easter? Ideally, it would be a conference between Protestant leaders, the Pope, and the Eastern Metropolitans, but the recent outbreak of priestly child abuse has the Pope and the arthritic national churches of Europe distracted. If anyone is going to lead this drive, it should be the Metropolitans and the Protestants, but the final decision needs to be agreed upon by all the denominations.

I Found My Heart in San Fran-βρίσκω

2010-04-02T18:38:00.000-07:00

One of my resolutions for this year (and possibly next!) is to work through all the Teach Yourself books and pamphlets which line my shelf. Unlike certain fraudulent intellectuals, I feel guilty about having books on my shelf which I have not read, and I love doing grammar exercises (I recite declensions and conjugations as a concentration/anti-drowsiness tool). So I have made the above resolution, although I should note that I am exempting the phrasebooks, because they lack the exercises I find essential to learning a foreign language. If anyobody has lsuccessfully learned a language from a phrasebook, I would love to hear how you managed.

I did Malay last summer, and Washo this spring (check out the University of Chicago Washo Language Revival website here), and am now working on Modern Greek. It is my eternal shame that I, a Classical Languages major, have not yet been to Greece, and although I am more interested in the ancient than the modern, I can't talk to modern Greeks in Classical or Koine! The first adjustment, of course, was the abundance of "i" in Modern Greek; but if you actually scutinize the vowel system of Modern Greek without the overlying archaic orthography, it is a standard five vowel system. Greek has experienced similar analogical pressures and analytical tendencies as the Romance languages (or any system that is moving away from a highly developed system of conjugations and declensions), but its conjugations and declensions have weathered the process better than those of the Romance languages, at least Dhimotiki - Tsakonian dialect apparently has gone further down the analytical path.

One of the delights of learning a later version of a language when you have learned an earlier stage (and I do not wish to get into the language/different language argument) is the pleasant surprise of discovering that the unfamiliar word is familiar after all, a sort of diachronic déjà vu.The formation of the future of δουλεύω with a ψ was a little surprising, but made sense given the consonantal pronunciation of υ in former υ-second diphthongs. Even that knowledge did not prepare me to immediately recognize βρίσκω and βρήκα as descendants of Archimedes' bathtime revelation. In hindsight, this is what naturally would have happened to any verb that seemed to have an augment (ε is the the default) in the present, where no augment ought to be, and, in truth, the augment was less firmly attached in ancient poetry than in prose.

Recent Reading: Percy Jackson and the Sea of Monsters

2010-02-05T08:20:00.000-08:00

Since the movie adaptation of the first book in the Percy Jackson and the Olympians is opening next Friday, providing an excuse to get the kids out of the house so that the parents can enjoy the Friday night of Singles Awareness Day weekend, I thought I should write up a short review of the second book in the series, Percy Jackson and the Sea of Monsters. The sequel uses a comparatively slower narrative pace, but then the author (Rick Riordan) could afford to place his chess pieces more carefully once the first book had sold well. His conceit about the nature of monsters pays off well in a series format, since there are a limited number of canonical monsters of myth (although far more than most moderns know). Another key conceit, what I would call "indefinite geography", serves as an anchor between the mundane and mythical worlds; the tendency to place wacky magical movies and television series in my own hometown makes this conceit particularly familiar and dear to me. If the world were as this series describes, the placement of the Sea of Monsters is perfectly logical.

One of the joys of reading this series as an adult Classics major is the recognition of story elements, and this installment does not disappoint. The choice of boss monster in this book telegraphs the stratagem of the hero, but a good story is always fun, and the particularly twisted version of La Belle et Le Bête (or perhaps Hercules and the Queen of the Amazons) which serves as the book's mcguffin is amusing on many levels, not all of which would be appropriate to explain to grade school kids.

I do not want to give away the conclusion (it's the second of five books: of course our hero wins the battle), but the way in which the success of the mission of the second book leads into the mission of the third book feels natural, an important feat for the sequel in an incomplete series. If I were teaching middle school, I would use these books quite happily to instill a love of mythology in my students - I come by that love naturally, but I understand many do not.

Hangeul, or No Dyslexic Elves

2010-02-04T16:00:00.000-08:00

Recently, I decided that I should learn some Korean, since I spend a great deal of time in a Korean-owned cafe. At the very least, I could learn the basic pleasantries associated with cafe life. Hangeul, the Korean script, is well known for being linguistically sound and astonishingly perceptive, although that language, it must be admitted, is the language of 15th century Korea. The official history has King Sejong as the inventor of the script, although some more recent studies have suggested a connection between Hangeul and 'Phags-pa script, invented in Tibet under Kublai Khan as an international script.

The basic principles of Hangeul were that each block should be square, in order that it look like "proper", i.e., Chinese, writing, and that the block be composed of the consonants which make up a syllable. Although Hangeul looks like a string of Chinese characters, it is much easier to disentangle the parts. The progress of time, both in phonetic change, assimilation, and increasing stylization of the "characters", has created some difficulties, but they are hardly insurmountable. My goal, for now, is to master the jamo (some of which are phonetically complex, but treated as a single graphic unit). The more I examine the jamo, the more I understand why the lovely Miss Moon grasped the principles of my Egyptian hieroglyph homework so quickly.

The systematic structure of the jamo may be linguistically inspired, but as some wag said of Tolkien's tengwar, there is no such thing as a dyslexic elf (I'm sure Tolkien would have found Hangeul fascinating). Some of the diacritics which are used to distinguish various vowels in Korean are minimal, even after the most recent reform of the script, a luxury which small linguistic communities can manage more easily than large democratic ones. It's easy for the Anglophone, accustomed to letters more distinct in shape, to confuse /a/ and /eo/. I can recognize the dental series (d, t, tt) but my brain appears to want that series to open in the same direction as the velar (g, k, kk); this is probably a conflict between the accurate picture of tongue placement and orthographic consistency. If I did not desire regularity in writing, Hangeul would not fascinate me so much! My greatest difficulty, however, is differentiating /oe/, /wi/, and /ui/; I have mastered the regular and iotated forms. The cafeteria method of learning Korean does not enlighten me on the rules of vowel harmony in Korean, leaving some vocalic pronunciations a mystery.

Lesson 15: Mai, Aku, La, Nei

2010-02-01T17:13:00.000-08:00

The completion of Lesson 15 yielded no interesting grammatical gems (or even semantic), so rather than complain about the high level of ambiguity in Hawaiian particles (what can you expect from a language which has so few phonemes?), so I'll take the opportunity to explain a feature of Hawaiian unfamiliar to most English speakers: deictic particles. What is a deictic particle? It is simply an "adverbial" word that indicates direction. The old English words "where, whither, whence" illustrate a pronominal use of directionality, since the meanings are "at which place, to which place, from which place". Greek has a "deictic iota" or "deictic i" in its dramatic register. The abundant use of the deictic iota arises from the lack of stage directions (or even indications of change of speaker!) in Greek drama. The absence of stage directions as we know them does not mean that the plays were not blocked - Greek tragedy does derive from a choral performance, after all. So where could the dramatist put the directions? He incorporated them into the text. In some cases, the direction was explicit, if one of the characters already on stage announced he could see the king approaching, but in other cases, the dramatist tacked the deictic iota onto the noun of his choice. The addition of the deictic iota indicated a "hey pay attention to this" response to the part of the players and the audience.

So far, the most striking Hawaiian deictic particles are mai, aku, la, and nei. The particle mai indicates movement away from the speaker; thus, whether the topic of discussion is coming or going does not determine the use of mai. The particle aku is the counterpart of mai, and can indicate temporal distinctions as well as physical ones - but I have not progressed far enough to say any more on the temporal uses. The particle la is a general indicator, and seems to be some sort of pan-Pacific, pan-East Asian deictic, since it is found in that use from China to Ni'ihau. In Hawaiian, la appears to be the antithesis of nei, a particle which is used quite vigorously in Hawaiian, but seems to indicate a high degree of immediacy, intimacy, and affection. I suspect that the intimate aspect of nei explains not only the use of nei as part of the present tense (what could be more relevant than what you are doing right now?) and the past with aku (only slightly less relevant than the present), and its absence when aku is used to indicate future time (irrelevant if you're an Australian Prime Minister and have just been eaten by a shark). This overlap of temporal and spatial terms is typical of natural human languages, although I am unsure what that indicates about human perception. These four deictic particle (there are others) provide additional information to allow the addressee (2nd person) to place the topic of discussion (3rd person) within a physical framework.

Movie Review: Avatar (but mostly Na'vi)

2010-01-27T09:38:00.000-08:00

Those who know my obsession with languages, real or imagined, will not be astonished that I went twice to Avatar, once for the experience and once for the language (and the 3D). I do this with rented movies, too, rewatching them with the commentary on - as archaeologists well know, sometimes there are nuggets among the trash; of course, it's a lot cheaper with rented movies!

I shall first say that I was pleasantly surprised by the additional information and coherence that a second viewing of Avatar afforded (although the particulars would betray the plot too much). I may actually read the novelization of the movie for the extra anthropological/linguistic/historical information. What most interested me, of course, was the alien language, Na'vi, which was constructed with care by an accredited linguist. One thing that irks me about poorly written fantasy novels, such as that written by Tolstoy's great-greandson, even more than the hackneyed plots is the lack of effort which goes into the creation of believable languages. I would not expect anyone to top Tolkien, a genuine language professor, but it seems to me that if you wain the want to use a fictional language and are uninterested in the details, you should crib a grammar of a real, possibly obscure, language rather than half-heartedly attempting to make one up, or else settle on differences in dialect and prosody to distinguish your fantasy races.

I was pleased at the extensive (for a film) use of Na'vi, by characters who would find it useful or necessary, even if the biosphere (and language) seemed a bit "It was raining on Mongo that day". Soldiers and anthropologists have competing but compelling reasons to learn the native tongue. Once I had seen Avatar once, I looked up the Na'vi language on Wikipedia, and was pleased and amused to see the list of features which were combined to form a language which humans could learn, but was unlike any human language. Na'vi features clusivity (which would make some the insider/outsider dialog of the movie particularly interesting), three grammatical numbers (singular, dual, and trial), Celtic-like lenition, Russian-like short forms (in combination with lenition!), Algonquin-style infixation, the bane of the English settlers of the New World. One can sympathize with the complaints of the protagonist about the difficulties of learning Na'vi! This particular combination of features renders the language natural but not transparent, which is one of the risks of a lazy movie linguist. The lyrics of the songs were in Na'vi, no doubt inspired by the use of Quenya and Sindarin in the LOTR movie trilogy, although there are songwriters here and there who have felt moved to sing in a language of their own. I would be interested to see the dialog of the Na'vi-speaking actors, since the use of clusivity and "attitude" infixes would make the disposition and political orientation of the Na'vi actors much clearly in their native tongue.

Bias

2010-01-26T11:16:00.000-08:00

Given certain recent misunderstandings, I feel it imperative that I explain my position more clearly regarding the liberal bias of the majority of the media.

As an historian and classicist, and an attentive student of Mr Honick's high school history class, I am well aware that unbiased information does not exist. Even the most sterile scientific data has a bias, since human beings decided which data to collect, where it would be collected, and at what intervals the measurements would be taken. News scavengers have to choose which data to collect, and out of that information which data to present and how to present it (hard news? fluff story? scare tactics?). I actually have a soft spot for ancient historians, who wore their hearts on their sleeves; for the same reason, I feel more comfortable with Fox News than "liberal" networks and fundamentalist Christians than some "tolerant" liberals; I know where I stand with them, and I am sufficiently comfortable with my own opinions to not waver.

The existence of bias, however, does not means it is a positive thing, just as the existence of evil does not make it a perverse form of good. I take issue with extreme bias of all forms; despite the rather provocative sentence in the preceding paragraph, I am not a fan of either Fox news or fundamentalism. The difference is that the bias on the liberal side is better hidden, and therefore harder to ameliorate. The crevasses in Antarctica are dangerous because you can't spot them.

The increasing fragmentation of media makes the general populace ever more vulnerable to news that is heavily weighted to a single viewpoint. The weakness of human beings to a "confirmation bias", in which one listens more carefully to something with which one agrees, is well-known in media and advertising circles ("confirmation bias" doesn't seem evolutionarily beneficial, but that's a topic for another day). It's easy to become addicted to one news source, whether that be Fox or CNN or NPR, and let it color your world view.

Satire, although it is an ancient and potent solution and therefore dear to the heart of this Classics major, is only a partial solution. Satire is useful in several ways: it can be used even if (especially if) the satirist possesses the opposite bias of the satirized, and satire's acerbic nature makes it memorable. Satire, however, is a parasitic genre: it depends on its audience knowing something about the subject it satirizes, or else descends into uninformed invective, which is no better than listening to a non-satiric programs which shares the bias of the satirist.

The only solution (ut opinor) for avoiding bias as much as possible in an increasingly fragmented media landscape is a diligent effort to read news sources from different viewpoints. The problem here, of course, is that it takes mental effort to synthesize any thesis and its antithesis, and many people are unwilling to expend that effort, when it is easier and simpler to hold onto their beliefs.

Lesson 14: Interrogative Pronouns

2010-01-25T18:36:00.000-08:00

As the angels say unto men, "Do not fear!", for I have not abandoned my Hawaiian project. Lesson 14 is the interrogative pronouns. An interrogative pronouns is not one which strings you up for the bastinado, although the sorts who would do that do use a lot of interrogative pronouns; an interrogative pronoun is simply one that asks a question. Some of the "pronouns" in Judd strike me more as adverbs than pronouns, especially in a language with such a tenuous case system, but let us not quibble. The most striking feature of the pronouns in this lesson is the predominance of the element hea. This element is the latter component of a compound of which the former is a preposition or functioning prepositionally. The word heaha "what?" appears to display the inverse situation, but alas this is an illusion, and heaha is composed of he aha, in which he is the indefinite pronoun, and aha indicates "why?what?". The use of the indefinite here contrasts with the use of the definite ke in another interrogative, no ke aha, "why?", which is literally "for the what?", a phrase which corresponds in form and meaning with the archaic English interrogative "wherefore", whereof I have an inordinate fondness.

Another intriguing feature of the interrogative pronouns is the incorporation of time into the forms of the question "when?". Hawaiian does not depend on the tense of the verb to indicate the time of the question, but rather uses ahea for future time and inahea for past time; the present form has yet to appear. Although placing the burden of temporality on the interrogative pronoun may seem peculiar to the native English speaker, this placement is the most logical: the question is about time, after all, and without a doubt the existence of the future and past interrogatives allow a greater semantic load on the basic pronoun.

Now here's the proof

Lesson 14
1. Hola ehia keia? How many hours is this?
2. E hele ana oe ihea i keia kakahiaka? Where (Whither) are you walking this morning?
3. Ua hiki mai lakou i Waikiki i keia awakea. They have arrived (towards the speaker) in Waikiki this afternoon. (Still no sign of any past parfect ua ... e!)
4. Mahea oe i hele aku i keia ahiahi? Where are you running (away from the speaker) this evening?
5. Auhea oukou, e na ho[a]aloha o ka pono? Where are you-all, o friends of righteousness?
6. Mai hea mai oukou i keia auina la? From what place (whence, towards the speaker) are you-all this afternoon? (la here is "sun", not the deictic particle)
7. Pehea oe i keia wanaao maikai loa? How are you this very beautiful dawn?
8. He kakahiaka ino loa keia. This is a very bad morning.
9. Heaha keia mau mea iloko o keia mau pahu? What are these things inside my boxes?
10. No ke aha la oe e hana nei i keia mea? Why are you doing this thing (away from the speaker).

Fred DIckson: A Eulogy

2010-01-15T11:17:00.000-08:00

I'm not a particularly eloquent eulogizer, but I feel ought to try on behalf the late Fred Dickson. I have not spent as many years as Fred as an Assistant Scoutmaster, but I can identify with his comfort in being a second banana to his Scouting partner and friend, Joe Ehrman, whose Distinguished Eagle Scout Award ceremony I attended last night at the Marines Memorial Club. Despite the aggression of contemporary society, not everybody feels the need to be dominant, and the position of executive officer to the commander or good cop to the bad cop is an important balance.

I remember talking to Fred many times in the old Troop Room, before the earthquake retrofit and the room's reestablishment in the diagonally opposite corner. When you entered the spacious Troop Room, there was counter on the left and behind it was Fred, always friendly and helpful - that counter was a less intimidating barrier than the physically less substantial one in front of you behind which loomed Joe's desk. Fred always had a piece of candy and friendly advice for any Scout who needed it, and was especially helpful in the transition from six to eight patrols which occurred the year I switched from the Flying Eagles to the Falcons.
Many problems, both disciplinarian and organizational, were resolved before they reached the Scoutmaster's desk thanks to Fred.

On the outings and at camp, Fred was friendly and helpful, qualities which do not solely apply to the Scouts of the troop. He was a major promoters of the annual horseshoe competition, a Royaneh tradition which has fallen into abeyance since his departure from camp; I remember the loud clanking of the horseshoes in the chapel, and the trepidation in crossing the field of competition - sure, the participants had stopped, but how much would you trust the twitchy arm of your fellow seventh-grader? Another area in which Fred's participation was greatly appreciated was the campfire program, and especially his promotion of the traditional songs of the troop. Then there was Kady-language, the troop's own Pig Latin: there was much discussion of it last night, and I must confess that it hasn't been heard around the troop campfires in quite a while. Many remembered how to use Kady-language, but nobody remembered all the lyrics to the song from which it was derived. In honor of Fred, I would like to recover the tune and the words for posterity.

One of the coolest things, especially to a boy, about Fred was his military experience as a World War II fighter pilot. An organization such as the troop places a great emphasis on tradition and history, and Fred's personal description of World War II provided a link to an earlier era which was becoming remote even by my days in the troop.

I shall always be thankful for Fred's generosity and good spirits, his ability to tie together generations of troop members, and his example of how to support the troop without being an A-type personality.

Lesson 13: Mind Your Pi's and Ke's

2010-01-11T16:31:00.000-08:00

I have gone over the particulars of Lesson 13, in which Judd presents the rules for using ka and ke as the as the singular definite article of the Hawaiian language. The form of the singular definite article in PNP (Proto-Nuclear Polynesian) is te, as in the name of the Maori opera singer Dame Kiri Te Kanawa, so I first tried to derive a rule whereby ke became ka under certain conditions (the definite ka has a short vowel, whereas the a-class possessive ka has a long vowel). Dissimilation of ke to ka before words which begin with front vowels (e, i) and occasionally the lower central vowel (a) makes evolutionary sense, but that cannot be the underlying model at the time Judd composed his grammar, since the back vowels also use ka. It is worth noting that Judd’s ‘okina-less orthography does not appear to disguise a distinction between the two forms dependent on the presence or absence of the ‘okina for words with an initial u, but perhaps does for words with an initial o. The use of ke before words beginning with k appears to be linguistic conservation in a “potassium-rich” environment, and the use of both ka and ke before words beginning with p preserves a useful semantic distinction between ka pa ‘the yard’ and ke pa ‘the dish’ (both have a long vowel). This utility hypothesis, however, is called into question by the widespread semantic homophony elsewhere in the Hawaiian language.

The rule which Na Puke Wehewehe ‘Olelo Hawai’i lists is the following: ke is used before words beginning with a, e, o, and k, and sometimes p and the ‘okina. I am not certain whether the use of ke or ka preserves any semantic distinction for the words beginning with the ‘okina, or whether the mixture there is due to the slide from historical and Kauai k to Hawai’i ‘okina. The rule I can derive from this is: the vowel of ke is lowered to ka before the high vowels i and u, and vowel of ke is preserved before any consonant other than k. The consonants p and the ‘okina are the logical outliers for this rule, since (quite aside from the semantic distinction between pa and pa) the ‘okina is the last step before a bare vowel, and the labial plosive p is often tied to the velar plosive k: examples include the development of Welsh pedwar ‘four’ from the Brythonic root kwet-, similar to Latin quattuor,. More generally, velars and labials are related: note the change of the Sumerian (nasal) velar g~ into a labial m in the Emesal, or women’s dialect. Na Puke Wehewehe ‘Olelo Hawai’i also notes the pre-1850 documents in Hawaiian, before any official grammar had been published, allowed ke before consonants which were neither p nor k - sadly, it does not mention whether this situation also pertained to the ‘okina. This difference between the pre-1850 records and the official Hawaiian of today suggests the use of ka spread from the words beginning with vowels and perhaps the ‘okina to the other consonants. The use of both ka and ke in front of the ‘okina would be critical for the reanalysis, since it would give speakers “permission” to use ka in front of consonants. I also suspect that the influence of English grammar, specifically a more rigid distinction between verbal and nominal forms, may have pushed the educated Hawaiian speakers towards a more frequent use of ka with nouns, since ke is used in several verbal constructions.

1. Ua ike makou i ka uila. We have known the lightning.
2. Ua lohe makou i ka hekili. We have heard the thunder.
3. Ke hoopaa nei oia i ka ukana. He ties fast the cargo.
4. Ke noho nei oia ma ke one. He sits in the sand.
5. Ua hiki mai ka elele. The messenger has arrived.
6. Ua hele mai ke kanaka mai Maui mai. The man has moved from Maui.
7. Ke hahai nei ka ilio i kona kahu. The dog pursues his provider.
8. Pehea oukou i keia mau la. How are you-all?

Our Doomed Century on the Onion

2010-01-08T16:57:00.000-08:00

(This was composed the week of Jan 3-9, 2010)

It's been Apocalypse Week on the History Channel, which means I've been drawn to it like Mothra to a nuclear flame. I have an impatient fascination with the 2012/Nostradamus material, although it does provide a ready source of mockable material, but my stronger, morbid fascination is reserved for the shows on asteroid impact (especially Apophis), gamma ray bursts, and other forms of environmental extinction or collapse.

I'm excited for the new season of Life After People, in which we will see what happens to a modern house without maintenance. Apocalypse Man seems like a series in embryo, a sort of bowdlerised television counterpart to The Road, but the show which most chilled my blood was Earth 2100. The narrative conceit of a single life makes sense outside of a setting, such as science fiction novels, in which multi-generational perspectives are possible and easier to portray. The shrill, strident tone is justified to some degree because the producers intended to portray a worst-case scenario, so that it might stick in the minds of the audience. One of the difficulties in persuading human beings to act is the rigid "flight or fight" response (the third option, giving up completely, is a literal dead end). Most people fail to react to creeping change (that's why you don't notice your own sibling aging as much as someone else's), so the most effective way to trigger the fight response is an atmosphere of threat. The fight response, however, was a development to allow survival when attacked, and does not last long. In terms of the energy spike, that is a blessing, since permanent panic would turn humanity into bipedal ground squirrels, but the brevity also means that the lesson is lost quickly and in the worst case engenders apathy or disbelief. The "Sleepers wake!" portion of the message is insufficient without a further portion outlining what steps may be taken to mitigate disaster. In this way, the gospel of environmentalism (after all, there is a green bible) is similar to other religions: faiths and philosophies which provide no guide on appropriate actions once you have accepted their premises are seeds which fall on rocky ground. Earth 2100 is a good first step, but I would welcome a series or special which provided methods of survival and eventual renewal.

Cliffside Contemplation

2010-01-07T12:41:00.000-08:00

My good friends of the evangelical persuasion in Colorado once showed me a diagram relating a person and God. The person is on one side of the cliff, and God is on the other. I suppose a broad river would be an acceptable in a land of non-swimmers. The zealous evangelicals either drew a bridge from God to the person, or indicated the transport of the person to the side on which God is standing. In cases where they drew the bridge, they asked me where I thought I was: my answer, which was deemed inapplicable, was to locate myself upon the bridge. The right location, according to my friends, is with God on the far side of the cliff. Dwelling near the presence of God is certainly the ideal place to be, but it seems misleading to draw a bridge and exclude it as a possible answer.

My attitude is more akin to the sojourn in Pilgrim's Progress, which I read at young and impressionable age. Certainly, we shall see God face-to-face in the end, but until then we can merely approach, but never reach, the Godliness which God desires of us. Unlike Pilgrim's Progress, however, I believe that the moral hazards, although serious, are not irrevocably fatal.

The Cursing of the Irish

2010-01-06T21:43:00.000-08:00

There was an article in Monday's Chronicle that reported that the Republic of Ireland has passed a new blasphemy law - the previous law was fundamentally unprosecutable, but this new one no doubt has the lawyers drooling, to the tune of 25,000 Euros. The godless horde of Eire has mounted an online campaign to mock and expose the futility of this law, but they need not bother: the combination of European kneejerk political correctness and modern litigiousness will undermine the admirable intent of the law. The text of the law states that one could be convicted of blasphemy if "he or she publishes or utters matter that is grossly abusive or insulting in relation to matters held sacred by any religion, thereby causing outrage among a substantial number of the adherents of that religion." The italics are my addition.

So, here is my prediction. The attempt at tolerance which the italicized portion highlights will backfire as the overly sensitive members of each religious group, and particularly the legal minds among them, seek to find fault in the writings of other religions. This will force every group into a defensive position, and nobody will dare say anything on religion. The biggest victims, of course, will be the individuals who did not intend to offend and cannot afford the lawyers whom institutions hire.

A Puni, Maluna, Malalo, Me Ma!

2010-01-05T11:54:00.000-08:00

(Sorry about the delay - I was traveling most of yesterday)

Lesson 12 in Judd's grammar introduces the complex prepositions, those which contain multiple words, similar to the English prepositon in front of. The majority of the English prepositions are composed this way, although the attrition of language has disguised the etymology of many English words. The preposition above, for instance, which appears to the diachronically blind as a straightforward two-syllable preposition of uncertain parentage, has a long history of prepositional accretion and linguistic erosion. The original core preposition was uf, the Anglo-Saxon form of up. Some speakers felt that uf alone was insufficient to express the up-ness they desired, and therefore attached an "on" to form ufan, "up on" Eventually that was deemed too weak, and be "by" prefixed itself to ufan to produce bufan "by up on". After the users of bufan had forgotten the intial suffixation of an to uf, they prefixed another an, creating anbufan "on by up on", which attrition wore down to the two-syllable word we use today.

The structure of all but two of the prepositions introduced in this lesson follow this analysis: ma- or i- prefixed to the core word, usually followed by the inalienable preposition o. The core word can be adverbial, such lalo "downwards", or a fully realized noun, such as uka "interior". Although the prepositions shown in the lesson all bear the prefix ma-, the choice between ma- and i- reflects the difference between the accusative and the ablative. In Latin, certain prepositions, such as sub "under", take the accusative or the ablative depending on whether the intent is to indicate motion or location; the same distinction applies to the Hawaiian prefixes. The inalienable preposition o is the usual third component; presumably one can replace o with a when appropriate. I must confess that the sources I have consulted on the o-a distinction have further perplexed me.

As for the exercise, the first appearance of the Hawaiian dog ('ilio) is notable. Hawaiian dogs were hairless and non-barking and bred for food rather than to chase game. The muteness of the breed was such a defining characteristic that the mythical dogs of Barking Sands recieved the "gift" of making noise from a god. I can relate to the chickens in Sentence 8, since on my recent trip to Kauai, I crept down a steep trail to a lovely waterfall (Kilahiwai Falls, or Wailele Kilahiwai). On the other side of the pool which lay at the base of the waterfall a family of chickens lived under a log (although it may not have been gray - it was covered in foliage). Kauai has been infested with chickens ever since a storm in the nineties, when the farmers let loose many chickens to ride out the storm and some never came back. There are no large predators on Kauai (which might explain the lack of hunting dogs), so the chickens multiplied.

(In case anybody was wondering, the post title was referring to this)

Lesson 12
1. Ke ike nei au i ka lio eleele. I know the black horse.
2. Ke noho nei ke kanaka iloko o ka hale ulaula. The man sits within the red house.
3. Ua ike makou i kekahi mau manu keokeo. We have seen some (kekahi mau) white birds.
4. Ke ku nei ka ilio haeleele mawaho o ka hale keokeo. The brown dog stands outside the red house.
5. Ke paani nei na keiki mawaho o ka hale oma'oma'o. The children play outside the green house.
6. Ke holo nei ka puaa ulaula ikai. The red pig runs toward the sea. (Gadarene swine?)
7. Heaha ka inoa o kou lio huapala. What is the name of his chestnut horse?
8. Ke noho nei na moa ulaula malalo o ke kumulaau ahinahina. The red chickens live underneath the gray tree trunk.