Finally continuing on a book that i really really need to return to the uni library; and just skipped a chapter (they're independent essays) because it wasn't relevant/interesting to me; but this next chapter is coming through within the first paragraph:
"To know another's language and not his culture is a very good way to make a fluent fool of yourself"
- attributed to Winston Brembeck
Just imagine a world full of beautiful stained glass windows which also generate electricity…
[Oxford Photovoltaics]
The Wrong Turn
Guess who's back here? I had a bumpy ride but I made it eventually.
Burden "You are not a burden. You HAVE a burden, which by definition is too heavy to carry on your own."
The whole “scientists use big words on purpose to be exclusive” is such a bunch of anti-intellectual bullshit. Specific and concise language exists for a reason; you need the right words to convey the right meaning, and explaining stuff right is a hugely important part of science. Cultures that live around loads of snow have loads of words to describe different types of snow; cultures that live in deserts have loads of words to describe different types of sand. Complex language is needed for complex meaning.
Anyone want a gem tutorial? ^^
If you want to support me in making more of these: https://www.patreon.com/PixelArtJourney
Looking up how many phonemes exist in different languages because I’m that guy and apparently Hawaiian only has 13 phonemes.
I don’t know what to say about that. That’s not a lot. I think it’s cool you can have a language with so few sounds.
you know what fuck it, I love you historical spelling. I love you weird fossilised preservations of obsolete alphabets, grasping for something that exists now like mist, like liquid, its true pronunciation lost to time but not quite forgotten, not yet. a ghost remains, a friendly one, comfortable in this old house. I love you repurposed letters for phonemes that neither the old language nor the variety they were borrowed into has any need for anymore. I love you sensible vowel pairings that have grown - improbably - centuries later, into unwieldy diphthongs, quietly thriving in an ever-shifting environment like weeds nestled cosily beneath the shade of grander plants that have long since turned to mulch. I love the word 'diphthong' (the little thicket of consonants in the middle of it, sprouting up from nowhere to trouble tongue and penmanship alike). I love how Phoenician fingerprints remain in a Norman revision of an Anglo-Saxon reworking of a Roman borrowing of a Greek repurposing, all these shapes and signs moulded again and again like clay, like mud, spun like flax to carry all those lovely glides and nasals and obstruents which come and go and come and go over time as the sounds mutate and grow apart, and the people grow and age and die, leaving behind nothing except (sometimes) a page. a poem. a piece of themselves, their voice, rendered in imperfect beautiful scratchings whose contours match the ceaseless flow of time, heavy with all that history and somehow also light with the sheer urgency of being written. look at it, isn't it wonderful? this moment in time that holds within it yet other moments? other echoes calling down through the centuries? this is how we spoke, this is what we sounded like, once. this is how we thought our ancestors would have said it. I love the inconvenience. English is so hard to learn. the spelling is so illogical. so cumbersome. it's frustrating. it makes no sense. it's inconvenient. yes and yes and yes, and yet you too are inconvenient, you too are inchoate and too much and you fail to resolve into a neat and comprehensible order. but look at you. how lovely you are. I treasure you. why should the words you speak be any less lovely.
This is a minor thing but it is very annoying to me when people replace every instance of "th" with þ, while ignoring the existence of ð. Like those indicate very different sounds I'm sorry you are not really saying "þat, þis, þose" unless you are hosing me down with saliva
Somewhere along the way we all go a bit mad. So burn, let go and dive into the horror, because maybe it's the chaos which helps us find where we belong.R.M. Drake
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