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.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Royaneh 2011
*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.
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.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Possession and Poetry
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.).
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Romney's Run
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.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Indecent Propositions
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
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.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Copts and Mobbers
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.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Archon 35: A Personal Retrospective
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.
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.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Rain, Again
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?
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Sales & Services
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
New Colors
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.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Beasts, Bass, and Bob
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!
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