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Archive for December, 2008

On rainy days alone I dine
Upon a chick and pint of wine,
On rainy days I dine alone,
And pick my chicken to the bone;
But this my servant much enrages,
No scraps remain to save board-wages.
In weather fine I nothing spend,
But often spunge upon a friend;
Yet, where he’s not so rich as I,
I pay my club, and so good b’ye.

— Jonathan Swift (1667-1745)

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Here are links to my two favorite christmas songs:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Zl9SWYesmw

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=acrM-KoMHiI

 

The second video is nearly unwatchable so just put it on and forget about it.

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Here is an interesting idea. Let’s hypertext almost every word in a work. I am ecstatic over finding this on the ‘Net.

http://www.finnegansweb.com/wiki/index.php/Main_Page

How many times is the word gullible used in the novel/experiment? Well you’ll just have to tune in and find out.

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An Argument

You could drink from the

world at once; and it

would make you pay.

 

Or like a miner then; sit

in shade and shadow till

it comes your day.

 

Large or small or none

at all, it doesn’t matter writ.

 

Too clearly,  here learned

it sweet, that one must sit.

 

Michael Evan Kerry McCullough

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So I’ve had a book of definitions of Idioms for a while now. Thought I would post some of my favorites here and basically converse on the topic, no matter the length, at my whim.

The nature of the Idiom is an interesting one.  It is a matter of a cultural understanding on a broad level.  When first looking at, or better yet, when first thinking deeply about the components of an Idiom one is somewhat perplexed at the lack of meaning in the phrase. Only when another recites an example can the meaning become clear. Akin to slang, though Idioms are accepted much more, the Idiom is an everyday occurence. 

Here is a link to the Historical Dictionary of American Slang: http://www.alphadictionary.com/slang/?term=jawn&beginEra=&endEra=&clean=true&submitsend=Search

Oddly I can’t find the word Jawn.

eg. Did you see that Jawn?  or, That Jawn was smokin’!

Idioms are interesting and can be alot of fun, but what really screws up my lexicographical, linguistic burning heart is the Slang of the world. So don’t gum up my comments with all of your tripe.  Just kidding.  What is it that makes Idioms so much more acceptable than Slang?  Is it the length of time that has passed from their introduction? Is it because Slang is usually seen as of a lower order or replacing something low-down and dirty? Like language and meaning in general Slang and Idiom are highly subjective. I’m sure some deny their existence altogether and attempt on ly the Queen’s English or the DAR English, that last one I made up. But anyways it is an enjoyable topic and one destined to screw up my heart in the future.

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I was speaking to a good friend the other day and he alighted on the subject of the Funerary Violin.  I, being of sound mind and body, had never heard of said subject so I asked him to explain. Well it is supposedly a lost art form resurrected by one Rohan Kriwaczek he solemnly stated. This lost art form is so obscure that it missed the history books and the re-history books. I thought to myself well then this needs looking into.  Here is the link to the page on Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Funerary_Violin

It should tell you all you need know about the topic at hand and if you are really interested well then I suggest you buy the book. 

What we have here is fiction historical opposed to Historical Fiction. What I mean is that this gentleman has just barely manipulated the slightest of facts for a small percentage of his piece and for a large majority has made up persons, situations and a whole tradition of music to suit his style of playing. I applaud Rohan on his accomplishment. From what I have heard about the book it seems supremely interesting to me.  Chopin is a thief, The Catholic Church murderers, George Babcotte is a Shakespeare hidden in Time, and other wonders that are just waiting to be discovered on his false pages that spewed from his false tongue.  So if you liked the Da Vinci code as much as I didn’t don’t read this book.

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Aside from the beautiful computer-generated color palate,  Jimmy Corrigan is dull and morose.  It seems as though the book is only a showcase for Chris Ware’s distinctive style.  The style is highly engaging, the storyline decidedly not. I guess Ware suffers from a dearth of literary imagination.

One of the better parts of the book is the Columbian Exposition interlude.  For most of the graphic novel the title character wallows in his loneliness and misery.  The intricacies of the graphics and their highly stylized nature cannot overcome the flatness of the contents of the book.

That given, one must appreciate what is almost the archetype of the genre.  Though every indie graphic novel I’ve seen is about as lively as Corrigan, it would seem that one must, old-fashionedly, make something up instead of following the current trend of writing something semi-auto-biographical.  Overall, Corrigan is graphically superior to anything out there. But his story is incomparable to anything out there. So I give it a 9……out of 100. LOL!

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