Trapped.
Under.
weighty.
Deadline.
Body grafting to computer.
Mind trying to escape.
Save yourselves!
(If you haven't read it already, go peruse something worth reading.)
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Sunday, January 29, 2006
Poor Mr Padge...
Friday, January 27, 2006
Idiom on a hot summer's arvo
I enjoy working on the endmatter of scholarly editions. It's sometimes great reading, albeit a tad dry. This excerpt made me LOL -- it's about the pitfalls of late 19th-century Canadian typesetters translating an Australian book:
So sensitive were the typesetters to the possibility of unfortunate double meaning that the innocent phrase 'Keep up your pecker, old man' required that 'courage' be substituted for 'pecker'; and the description of hard-ridden horses as 'knocked up' was clearly seen as potentially ambiguous in an objectionable way and had to be reduced to 'used up'. The account of a mare as being 'like some women when they get their monkey up' perhaps had the Montreal typesetters scratching their heads as to the meaning of this inoffensive colloquialism (it means, to become angry). They deleted it, preferring to err on the safe side. The idiom 'That cock wouldn't fight' survived in the weekly but was translated by the experienced compositors of the daily as 'That wouldn't go': it meant much the same thing, but it was minus the cock.
Heh. I can see the editor's wry grin as he wrote that last line.
TAGS: scholarly editions, typesetter, idiom
So sensitive were the typesetters to the possibility of unfortunate double meaning that the innocent phrase 'Keep up your pecker, old man' required that 'courage' be substituted for 'pecker'; and the description of hard-ridden horses as 'knocked up' was clearly seen as potentially ambiguous in an objectionable way and had to be reduced to 'used up'. The account of a mare as being 'like some women when they get their monkey up' perhaps had the Montreal typesetters scratching their heads as to the meaning of this inoffensive colloquialism (it means, to become angry). They deleted it, preferring to err on the safe side. The idiom 'That cock wouldn't fight' survived in the weekly but was translated by the experienced compositors of the daily as 'That wouldn't go': it meant much the same thing, but it was minus the cock.
Heh. I can see the editor's wry grin as he wrote that last line.
TAGS: scholarly editions, typesetter, idiom
Hooray for them!
Bouquets to Laura at Sorrow of Sill's Bend and Larvatus Prodeo for winning awards in the 2006 Australian Blogging Awards! Hooray! Another bouquet (slightly smaller but still smelling sweet) to Zoe the crazybrave for almost pipping the young gun for Best ACT blog. Pretty good for not having run an intensive campaign :)
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Creative Genius #2
For some strange reason Libra has decided that tampons and pads have to be entertaining. This is an interesting development in the history of attitudes towards menstruation. We're progressing along the line (so nicely and simply explained in a web essay about menstruation by Nicki Sullings [Postscript: I was asked to remove the link because spammers were hitting her site, but if you search with those terms, you'll find it]) from a complete taboo on the subject to being able to say 'Yars, I decided to hang the Libra decorations this year' when showing your family and friends the white/red/blue/glittery Christmas tree.
I noticed today in the toilet (no, not pregnant yet!) that we're being encouraged to walk out of the loo and say, 'hey guys, did you know...!'
Yes, Libra have started printing bits of trivia on the strip of waxy paper that you peel off the pads to stick them onto your undies. They've creatively called these little snippets 'Odd Spots', presumably to help you laugh about the current state of your knickers. Apparently you're supposed to come out of the loo waving the bits of paper like a Fantail wrapper and amusing your friends with such interesting things as:
ODD SPOT #101
If you sneeze too hard, you can fracture a rib. If you try to supress [sic] a sneeze, you can rupture a blood vessel in your head or neck and die.
[JESUS! I'm bleeding between my legs and you're trying to amuse me with blood trivia??!!]
ODD SPOT #38
On average, 13 people die every year from vending machines falling on them.
[I shit you not.]
ODD SPOT #76
The largest number of children born to one woman is 69 in Russia.
[Ok. I'm menstruating. I'm either glad I'm not pregnant or sad I'm not pregnant. Thanks for tapping into those emotions.]
ODD SPOT #73
The bloodhound is the only animal whose evidence is admssible in an American court. [Blood again!]
ODD SPOT #156
An elephant can throw a baseball faster than a human. [Yes, I do feel like throwing something. This bit of paper into the bin. A rock at someone wanting me to leave the house for a nice bushwalk.]
Now, it's those last two that convinces me that Libra are not competing with Fantails for friends. They're competing with beer bottle tops and labels. Swap a bit o'trivia in the pub with your mates. Or are we supposed to yell them out to each other between toilet cubicles, maybe to make friends with the women in the next cubicle before you ask her for some toilet paper?
ODD SPOT #12
One human brain generates more electrical impulses in a day than all of the world's telephones put together.
Well, that's obviously a brain with more power than the mob who thought of this idea.
TAGS: blood, periods, trivia, advertising, dickheads
I noticed today in the toilet (no, not pregnant yet!) that we're being encouraged to walk out of the loo and say, 'hey guys, did you know...!'
Yes, Libra have started printing bits of trivia on the strip of waxy paper that you peel off the pads to stick them onto your undies. They've creatively called these little snippets 'Odd Spots', presumably to help you laugh about the current state of your knickers. Apparently you're supposed to come out of the loo waving the bits of paper like a Fantail wrapper and amusing your friends with such interesting things as:
ODD SPOT #101
If you sneeze too hard, you can fracture a rib. If you try to supress [sic] a sneeze, you can rupture a blood vessel in your head or neck and die.
[JESUS! I'm bleeding between my legs and you're trying to amuse me with blood trivia??!!]
ODD SPOT #38
On average, 13 people die every year from vending machines falling on them.
[I shit you not.]
ODD SPOT #76
The largest number of children born to one woman is 69 in Russia.
[Ok. I'm menstruating. I'm either glad I'm not pregnant or sad I'm not pregnant. Thanks for tapping into those emotions.]
ODD SPOT #73
The bloodhound is the only animal whose evidence is admssible in an American court. [Blood again!]
ODD SPOT #156
An elephant can throw a baseball faster than a human. [Yes, I do feel like throwing something. This bit of paper into the bin. A rock at someone wanting me to leave the house for a nice bushwalk.]
Now, it's those last two that convinces me that Libra are not competing with Fantails for friends. They're competing with beer bottle tops and labels. Swap a bit o'trivia in the pub with your mates. Or are we supposed to yell them out to each other between toilet cubicles, maybe to make friends with the women in the next cubicle before you ask her for some toilet paper?
ODD SPOT #12
One human brain generates more electrical impulses in a day than all of the world's telephones put together.
Well, that's obviously a brain with more power than the mob who thought of this idea.
TAGS: blood, periods, trivia, advertising, dickheads
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
M. i. c. k. e. y..... M. o. u. s. e!
My cats just can't stop catching mice at the moment. They've caught two today! I found a gorgeous little mouse skull in the front garden this evening, which means they killed while we were on holiday.
They have a system. Mr Pooter is the Mouse Catcher. Mr Padge is the Mouse Keeper. Pooter can catch them very easily, but when he plays with them, he loses them. Mr Padge finds them again and keeps hold of them no matter what -- then eats them.
The first mouse today was caught and then accidentally let loose in the house. I couldn't work out what was making Pooter so frantic. He was rushing around the house, miaowing and squeaking. Then BB got home from work and nearly trod on the mouse in our room. He carried it outside and let it go, but Padge tracked it down. Then Pooter stole it back. Then I got the camera out.
making the most of the paint equipment left around the yard, Pooter discovers the fun in letting the mouse runs through and around the ladder...
...but then loses it by taking it into the bushes nearby. You could almost hear Padge's exasperated sigh...
Padge then sppots the mouse and decides that he has spent enough time letting his brother faff around. His turn!
Much better, thinks Padge. My mousie. Nice mousie, wee mousie. Time to move away from the equipment and into a bit of clear space...
Nice mousie, wee mousie, timorous little beastie...
You make a nice football, wee mousie...
This is the point at which, each growling happily, the two cats started batting the mouse between them. And so this is the point at which I left them to it, feeling sorry for the mouse, but glad it wasn't scuttling around my wardrobe anymore. They ate that one, and caught another (which they also brought inside, only to be ignobly dumped outside again) and as I type they are still outside playing with it.
So welcome to Mishca, newest member of the North Canberra Mouseketeers! You have a lot of catching up to do!
They have a system. Mr Pooter is the Mouse Catcher. Mr Padge is the Mouse Keeper. Pooter can catch them very easily, but when he plays with them, he loses them. Mr Padge finds them again and keeps hold of them no matter what -- then eats them.
The first mouse today was caught and then accidentally let loose in the house. I couldn't work out what was making Pooter so frantic. He was rushing around the house, miaowing and squeaking. Then BB got home from work and nearly trod on the mouse in our room. He carried it outside and let it go, but Padge tracked it down. Then Pooter stole it back. Then I got the camera out.
making the most of the paint equipment left around the yard, Pooter discovers the fun in letting the mouse runs through and around the ladder...
...but then loses it by taking it into the bushes nearby. You could almost hear Padge's exasperated sigh...
Padge then sppots the mouse and decides that he has spent enough time letting his brother faff around. His turn!
Much better, thinks Padge. My mousie. Nice mousie, wee mousie. Time to move away from the equipment and into a bit of clear space...
Nice mousie, wee mousie, timorous little beastie...
You make a nice football, wee mousie...
This is the point at which, each growling happily, the two cats started batting the mouse between them. And so this is the point at which I left them to it, feeling sorry for the mouse, but glad it wasn't scuttling around my wardrobe anymore. They ate that one, and caught another (which they also brought inside, only to be ignobly dumped outside again) and as I type they are still outside playing with it.
So welcome to Mishca, newest member of the North Canberra Mouseketeers! You have a lot of catching up to do!
DIY be damned
I've been meaning to paint the outside of my house for years. About six years ago when I was single my father said he'd help me, so we prepped and sanded, and I trialled a few colour patches... and that is as far as it went. There was always some reason or another why we never finished the job. One reason was my dad confessing to me after a few Christmas drinks a couple of years ago that he hated house painting! So poor little Private Jetty* has been sitting in all the elements with no protection, and now it looks really really shabby, in the way that only ex-govie houses in Canberra can look. When the grass is long I feel that it just needs a couple of broken down cars on the verge to complete the picture.
Best Beloved is not a home handyman. He is a jam-maker. I am the home handy-woman, but I'm not very diligent because I happen to be fairly lazy and prefer to read than be up a ladder. I do like a power drill, and I do have my favorite screwdriver set. I've come to terms with the fact that I will never paint the house on my own, so my New Year's resolution this year was to bloody well just pay someone to do it. And so I have.
I looked in the local community paper and picked out two nice-looking ads. One turned out to be an older Scottish man who has been painting for years, and gave me a whole book of references, most of which were written in old-lady handwriting proclaiming how much of a godsend he was and how nice he was to their disabled husbands. He gave me lots of free advice, warned me against young guns with cheaper quotes, then gave me a horrendously expensive quote and said he couldn't start for 8 weeks.
The other was a young gun with a brand-new van, his name on the personalised number-plate, and a buff physique. A new Australian (Turkish), he was very keen and puppy-like. We liked each other immediately, and even though BB was wary, I thought he deserved a chance. And he gave a reasonable quote and could start the next week. BB wanted me to get a third quote, but something about R just appealed to me (and it wasn't the thought of muscles on a ladder!).
Two days into the job, I know my instinct was right. The older guy would have been very irritating, with constant 'Dearie's and free advice. R is very friendly, much more savvy than I originally thought, and we have fun chats about his wife and two small girls. He's been in Australia for 5 years, had his own business for 3 years, and is very grateful to Australia for the opportunities it has offered him. although he finds Canberra a bit boring (heh)! He then said that Canberra was a good place to save money. I don't think so. I spend all mine on movies and house repairs! Mind you, I haven't seen a movie made for adults for ages, thanks to the school holidays.
Ooh, have run out of time, and must dash. Sorry, wanted to wind this up in some funny, interesting way, but never mind. I'll try harder next time.
*Most people refer to my house by the street it lives on, but I hung on the front verandah an old sign I found on a beach saying 'Private Jetty', so thats how I think of it. A lot of people walk past and ask where the boats are. Be patient, my creatures. I plan to find or make a few quirky garden feature boats to snuggle into my projected sea of blue-flowered plants! Once Bumblebee has grown out of the swing set.
Best Beloved is not a home handyman. He is a jam-maker. I am the home handy-woman, but I'm not very diligent because I happen to be fairly lazy and prefer to read than be up a ladder. I do like a power drill, and I do have my favorite screwdriver set. I've come to terms with the fact that I will never paint the house on my own, so my New Year's resolution this year was to bloody well just pay someone to do it. And so I have.
I looked in the local community paper and picked out two nice-looking ads. One turned out to be an older Scottish man who has been painting for years, and gave me a whole book of references, most of which were written in old-lady handwriting proclaiming how much of a godsend he was and how nice he was to their disabled husbands. He gave me lots of free advice, warned me against young guns with cheaper quotes, then gave me a horrendously expensive quote and said he couldn't start for 8 weeks.
The other was a young gun with a brand-new van, his name on the personalised number-plate, and a buff physique. A new Australian (Turkish), he was very keen and puppy-like. We liked each other immediately, and even though BB was wary, I thought he deserved a chance. And he gave a reasonable quote and could start the next week. BB wanted me to get a third quote, but something about R just appealed to me (and it wasn't the thought of muscles on a ladder!).
Two days into the job, I know my instinct was right. The older guy would have been very irritating, with constant 'Dearie's and free advice. R is very friendly, much more savvy than I originally thought, and we have fun chats about his wife and two small girls. He's been in Australia for 5 years, had his own business for 3 years, and is very grateful to Australia for the opportunities it has offered him. although he finds Canberra a bit boring (heh)! He then said that Canberra was a good place to save money. I don't think so. I spend all mine on movies and house repairs! Mind you, I haven't seen a movie made for adults for ages, thanks to the school holidays.
Ooh, have run out of time, and must dash. Sorry, wanted to wind this up in some funny, interesting way, but never mind. I'll try harder next time.
*Most people refer to my house by the street it lives on, but I hung on the front verandah an old sign I found on a beach saying 'Private Jetty', so thats how I think of it. A lot of people walk past and ask where the boats are. Be patient, my creatures. I plan to find or make a few quirky garden feature boats to snuggle into my projected sea of blue-flowered plants! Once Bumblebee has grown out of the swing set.
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