Sunday, 27 September 2020

The King Kǒng of Confusion

Trained in competing teleologies. That everything we have today is an improvement over the primitive way of the brutally barbaric past, and that the entire world and everything and everyone in it is spiralling out of our short-sighted selfish control, as if the only reasonable path is the muddling middling, mythological middle one, through which the responsible will navigate the treachery by super-rational check and ultra-sober balance. The drivers of this avenue take credit for the teleology of progressive improvement and point flowery fingers at the irresponsibility of wide berthing certain sources of misrepresentation.

And learning from history, as if one could elevate depictions as a mirror that displays the futures available and yet doesn't account for the discordant lessons learned. Honestly wonder if the constant promises of improvement or admonitions of dread that will result from present actions do not serve to deploy the present moment to a mission unknowable when one could rather use the present moment to make itself whole.

Truth's a trap set misshapen

Spin sed, donask, by hooym,
that you'll stay forever
to the neck as long
as you don't struggle
in the qhwik sand

Hwat they don telly u,
donask hoo they is,
is yer goan goin gawn
few don strugglta
memmer hwence ye came

Or gin stories run
a bout the few sure, Ann?
they all broke up!
Priddy well wager, you can,
you cantel they re bout u:
how yude sunk in, an'r sinkin

Trick stew keep you rice open
no matter how gritty the griddle gets
hwile holden yer breadth
(hwutcha gotta doo anyhoo)
an done for-

Spin ded, donask bye me
spare so shall medigated sharing
hwerts just unjust viable
but isit live and ifts real
pulls you by and reelsu in,
hold yer breadth, keep yer
senses clean no matter how
gritty the grid as you sink in
an of most import don't
forget hwence you came

And now, comin atcha
banned from the widths
is it yer one time won and own
Yever Gedditt & Theole Yang
1234 fu did'r uhad
priddy well wager this
betts on ya!
—R U Reddy

Thursday, 24 September 2020

It's when it's, it's not when it isn't.

In the all-in on the apexing either/or era, I dunno what irritates me more: employees engaging what should be their right to influence the product they're pedaling, but in the typically frivolous, problematic way, or the other wannabe arbiters of what we should think about everything reacting to it as if these same, who've turned out to have zero influence, should extract the would-be ominous, but very real patronizing "Beware people! These are the people that control what you see, what you hear, how we digest our information, and it scares the hell out of me."

Maybe of greater concern ought to be how our year in hindsight has got us shoving our noses so much further up the virtual ass of what's left of community that algorithms and Facebook villains who're coming for your democracy would only be as threatening as in the age of advertisements past if people didn't seek meaning in such bullshit.

I'm equally weary of slippery slope arguments that imply that it's always tomorrow that's the problem with the present.

Friday, 18 September 2020

Sunday, 6 September 2020

Why were never was a plate of shrimp

Like lexica descriptive of common word use, which include to the consternation of I'm sure many an unwitting prescriptivist of convenience words they'd insist are not words, e.g. irregardless or \ˈnü-kyə-lər\, published grammar guides allow almost without fail (for the purpose of simple acknowledgement that language in use is not something you can disallow for very long) the use of "was" as an alternative to the standard "were" when expressing the present or future hypothetical, e.g. "If I were/was you."

There are many to peeve and become peeved in this life, the least important of which should involve the pettiest of peeves known as pets. [Side note: publishing idea: a lexicon of pet peeves with statistical and sociological analyses. I'd wager a prevalence of personal problems with other people's way of expressing themselves.]

[Trigger alert: the next paragraph, and indeed this one, include upon close reading a micro- (passive) aggressive allusion to the notion that you might not need one of the pills you're taking.]

If you have an unusually, even by pet peeve standards, peeving pet peeve that you would like to get over, consider that, as with the literal pet, choosing not to feed it would do the trick. Even a malady borne of irrational irritation needs nutrition. (Spare your doggie, though. Fucking psycho.)

I certainly won't suggest I am above nursing my bug above myself. That's the point here. But it's also to draw a distinction. One'd do well to try to save expressing one's inner fascist for the times that really matter. Again, to go more literal: As any fair-weather fascist and patriot, you might allow the continuous expression of oppressive means of government until such time as you decide to draw the line.

If I were you, I wouldn't use "If I was you." No, that's not true. I mean "If you were me, you wouldn't."

In the matter of grammar, I like to think of myself as a descriptivistly disposed. It happens to harmonize with a general anti-authoritarian attitude such that you could categorize it as anti-prescriptivist. If one's so spirited, they might go so far as to ban language prescription outright. I'm not quite going for that irony.

Language is relatively simple. Just give me a reason. My reason is not simply the way was and were make me feel respective to one another. The denotation does indeed trigger a mindful response and the connotation crucks me around, but my reason is more than that, if unfortunately for my own private bugaboo at feeding time, it also allows the use of "If I was you", at least until I can work out a metaphysical application that fascions it otherwise.

Here my distinction is strictly 3rd Person. I'm working with the assumption of a reliably known 1st Person narrative of itself, and that the expression of what's known includes the personal hypothetical. Again, at least until I can work out how "If I was you" might connote, for example, that you had embodied my mind for a time, literally, figuratively, virtually, or otherwise. I nevertheless choose, for the sake of its mood and mine, the consistency of the sweeping were. I wish that were enough.

[Did you know that if you shift your left hand on the keyboard one position to the right that "for" becomes "got"? Publishing idea: a lexicon of such coincidences, among a volume to designate others, e.g. shifting the right hand one position to the left, etc.]

It is not enough. Here however is my distinction as applied to 3rd Person use of the 2nd Conditional:

Suppose you're thinking of a plate of shrimp. You are at a party. There's shrimp on the kitchen table. If it wasn't the hosts who had laid it out, somebody else brought it. No matter. Of greater concern is that years ago you'd had a nasty case of hepatitis borne of the fruits of just such a display: uncooked semi-jumbo on a bed of semi-crushed ice. So hauntingly similar in appearance is this one that it affects you as would an apparition. If it were creamed corn, you'd be tempted to ask someone standing next to you if they saw creamed corn on that plate.

[Note here that the preterit "saw" is indirect speech. The direct quote would be "Do you see creamed corn on that plate?"]

The party is neither so dense nor so vast that it would make it impossible for you to notice your friend Kate among the guests. That is, if she's at the party. Did she say she would come? You haven't spoken to her about it. It is the kind of party you would not be surprised to see her at, what with there being mutual friends in attendance, except that you're so fixated on the image of a plate of shrimp. You see plates with shrimp on them, even the occasional plate solely of shrimp floats into and out of you range of vision — what you would call a plate of shrimp.

But the shrimp's no matter. Kate might have come and gone already. After a while of shrimp spotting, you go home. Fleetingly you wonder if she came later, which you find less likely, if a little more so than you'd missed her because of a nauseating preoccupation with threatening food. A gag reflex does not preclude facial recognition. Still, it's plausible that you might have missed her what with the volume of rooms.

The next day you meet mutual friends for a buffet brunch. Somebody says they're thinking of a plate of shrimp. You tell them about the party. Somebody else asks if Kate was there. You reply that maybe she was, maybe she wasn't, and recount your musing from the night before, including the descending probabilities of how you could have missed her, concluding with a personal assessment of your worthlessness as it relates to the question in question. Another person offers, "If she were here, she could tell us if she was there."

Bulletin hindsight - 2020

Sunday, 23 August 2020

Thursday, 13 August 2020

Sinistrously Disposed

To the left, upon this day of the Lefthander International, pass the kouchie. That cute little version of the eighties lyric, bowdlerized for innocents, drug references replaced with food. Per the Wiki: "'Dutchie' has since become a drug reference, denoting a blunt stuffed with marijuana and rolled in a wrapper from a Dutch Masters cigar, since American and British listeners assumed that the term was a drug reference."

Sanitized, not for sinistrality to forsake, for clockwise remained the thing's direction of passing, but to forgo the perversion of the evil weed or, more accurately syntax'd, its active perverting of the innocent who might be so drawn into a circle of its community. The perversion of the weed would be burning it in a Dutch oven, and with or without the help of cooperative adult reverse misunderstanding, the youth are capable of being back-perverted — the right wrong way round.