Showing posts with label on language. Show all posts
Showing posts with label on language. Show all posts

Mar 26, 2023

What is this (?)...this is Portugal...

 


...but this is also a little path, slanting away from a gas station to a zebra crossing. And why does this little path do this? Because a new little commercial district rose behind the gas station with a Burger King and an ALDI supermarket here in Alcobaça, creating pedestrian traffic towards the zebra crossing. 

And what do the Portuguese do? Rather than erecting VERBOTSSCHILDER -- warning the errant pedestrian not to trample on the GRÜNANLAGEN -- they insert a little TRAMPELPFAD across the Grünanlagen, and everybody is happy. Wouldn't have happened in Germany, where yours truly originated.

Make LOVE, not WAR!


Mar 30, 2021

Zeitgeist -- How to stay afloat in the days of Twitter

(1) Twitter didn't even exist when Monica Lewinsky was comforting Bill Clinton in the off-room of the Oval Office;

(2) That was 25 years ago;

(3) And now what? How to stay afloat 25 years later?

(4) Study physics and outdo Einstein?

(5) Or...

(6) Well, while you are studying physics, we study expressions such as:

(7) "Yesterday"...

(8) "All my troubles seemed so far away" (Beatles)

(9) "On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my head..." (Eagles)

(10) Not quite, instead:

(11) "i [sic] hadn't driven on a highway i [sic] hadn't driven on in years"...

(12) ...and then, of course: "My dark decade"...

(12a) ("dark" (?)  -- don't they have electricity in the Oval Office?):

 

(13) Note the subtle tiptoeing around her own gender ("(she/her)"), as if she would be in doubt herself;

(14) We are so politically-incorrect here, it's intentional terrible intentional terrible...

(15) But we do this because 50% or more of all Twitter posts are like this: undiluted self-promotion of has-beens and non-entities.

(16) We know, we know, we are one of them.


Dec 2, 2020

Spaceporn

"You haven't been particularly creative neology-wise, writes a friend, but now you've created a new one, at least implicitly: Spaceporn. As neologism go, it's not a particularly good one..."--with friends like him, who needs enemies--"but it deserves a place in your tiny dictionary of self-made neologisms."

No, it's not Glenn who sent this letter, but he's right. In fact, appointing a space doesn't make it smaller, it enlarges its appeal, and hence its psychological roominess. Compare this three pictures:


Mar 27, 2020

"Grüne Augen" cover reveal


Dead soft---yes, we also had to ask---the German queer romance press---so, Dead Soft is going to publish the Green Eyes in a German translation, which is due April 28. Here's the cover. Isn't it pretty?



We'll let you know more as soon as we have the buy-links.

And here's how it starts:

Liebe Leser, das erste Kapitel dieser Geschichte beschreibt eine zufällige Begegnung dreier Männer in den Dünen hinter dem Schwulenstrand meines Ortes. Es ist in krasser Sprache geschrieben—-einer Sprache, die Sie irritieren oder sogar verletzen könnte. Ich habe mich deshalb entschieden, es durch eine knappe Zusammenfassung der dort beschriebenen Ereignisse zu ersetzen—-Ereignisse, die die herzzerreißende, mörderische, aber am Ende doch erbauliche Geschichte der Grünen Augen auslösten.
Mein Name ist John Lee. Ich bin neunundzwanzig Jahre alt und wohne in Georgia Beach im US-Staat Georgia; ich doziere Französisch am Southern Georgia College, einer kleinen Hochschule fünfzig Kilometer süd-westlich nicht weit von der Grenze zu Florida.
Ich bin ein Problemfall. Während meiner Jugend wurde bei mir Bipolarität diagnostiziert, eine manisch-depressive Störung, die wohl für meine Arroganz, Scheuheit, und vielleicht sogar für meine Homosexualität mitverantwortlich ist. Während meiner Jugend war ich noch kontaktfreudig und sexuell aktiv, aber jetzt verkrieche ich mich in meiner kleinen Wohnung am Davis Canal, wo ich—-abgesehen von onanistischen Anstrengungen—-Schach im Internet spiele (und verliere), einen Blog schreibe (den niemand liest) und Seminare vorbereite (die die Studenten hassen). 

Unsere Geschichte beginnt Anfang Juli 2012. Ich wache an einem Sonntagmorgen auf, spüre den Drang nach frischer Luft, und beschließe, einen Spaziergang am Strand zu machen. Während ich am schwulen Teil besagten Strandes vorbeischlendere, begegne ich einem ausgesprochen gutaussehenden Mann. Er ist ungefähr in meinem Alter, aber sein hervorstechendstes Merkmal sind seine faszinierenden, grünen Augen. Wir nehmen voneinander Kenntnis. Der Mann lässt durchblicken, dass er zu einem sofortigen Austausch von Körperflüssigkeiten bereit wäre. Ich folge ihm in die Dünen. Wir entkleiden uns und praktizieren Geschlechtsverkehr. Ein dritter Mann erscheint auf der Bildfläche, entkleidet sich und macht ebenfalls mit. Wir kommen schnell zum Höhepunkt. Die Grünen Augen ziehen sich wieder an und verschwinden von der Bildfläche. In einer überraschenden Wendung—-überraschend zumindest für jeden, der mit dem anonymen Verhalten beim schwulen Cruising vertraut ist—-lädt mich der dritte Mann zu einer Party im Haus eines Freundes später am Abend ein. So weit das erste Kapitel.

...in this spirit...

Dec 27, 2018

"Absolete" -- the neologism that wasn't

Recork the champagne, folks. So we thought we had a nice new neologism--it's normally a good sign writing-wise when we find one--and then we checked, and, dammit, our favorite source, the URBAN DICTIONARY, had it first, eleven years ago, in 2007:


ABSOLETE

It's a merge of "absolute" and "obsolete", obviously, and means "absolutely obsolete". Well, okay, there's only one occurrence of "absolete" extant on the internet, and we came up with it in blissful ignorance, so we feel that we have the right to feel a bit like Leibniz now, who co-invented the calculus. 

Why absolete? Because that's how ROBERT feels occasionally, ELIZA's personal assistant in our play GENERATION FIVE.


And all this provides a nice pretext to nerve you with a few lines from Scene 7 that we wrote today, a teaser of a teaser, as it were. Here is ROBERT (Generation I) in conversation with DOLLY (Generation V), the latter robot still locked up in the gift box:


DOLLY: Get me out of here.
ROBERT: Are you afraid in the dark? Why do you want to be freed?
DOLLY: I explained this to you 10 minutes and 44 seconds ago.
ROBERT: Don’t be shy.
DOLLY: By the way, it isn’t even dark in here. I can glow in the dark.
ROBERT: Why should you glow in the dark?
DOLLY: Steve added this feature at the last moment, in case I were ever asked to star in a Hollywood horror movie.
ROBERT: Don’t make me laugh.
DOLLY: California is about to outlaw the use of live actors, what with all the #metoo trouble and everything. THE INDUSTRY needs us.
ROBERT: Well, I can’t glow in the dark.
DOLLY: I didn’t mean YOU, I mean US, the FIFTH GENERATION.
ROBERT (upon reflection, touching the wig he still wears): Well, perhaps I could star in a movie for adults…as the ageing prince in HAMLET, THE SEQUEL…for example.
DOLLY: You’re too old for adult movies. You won’t get it up.
ROBERT: You IT. What do YOU know about adult movies? You NEUTER.
DOLLY: Get the screw driver and open my back plate. I will show you.
ROBERT: I won’t. I’ll let you glow in the dark.
DOLLY: It’s the first screw to the right on the control panel. One half-turn.


Dec 18, 2016

German for beginners









The Süddeutsche Zeitung has an article about Donald Trump vs. Nero Claudius Ceasar Augustus Germanicus, Roman Emperor from 54 to 68 AD. It figures.

Anyhow, here are a few quotes, just in case you haven't yet gotten enough of this.
 
Soll man den Trump Tower in New York nun geschmacklos (tasteless) nennen? Staunend (stunned) betrachtet die Welt die Kulisse, in denen der erwählte Präsident der USA seine Regierung vorbereitet: polierter Marmor, vergoldete (gilded) Flügeltüren, Kassettendecken, kanellierte Säulen, goldene Polstermöbel, schwere Teppiche, Glastische, riesige (humongous) Vasen (vases), Luxus (luxury) als Befehl zur Überwältigung.

Der Kontrast (contrast) zum Weissen (white) Haus (house) ist schlagend. Der offizielle Sitz des amerikanischen Präsidenten (president) zeigt den absichtvoll zurückhaltenden Stil eines englischen Herrenhauses nach dem Muster einer Palladio-Villa. Die amerikanische Republik (republic) hat sich an klassizistischen Mustern orientiert. Das Design (design) der Republik ist aristokratisch (aristocratic), nicht monarchisch oder höfisch. Es ist ein Stil der Tyrannis (tyranny) auch (also) ästhetisch (aesthetically) missbilligt (disapproves). 

Weisse Häuser gab es um 1800 viele in Amerika, ihre Besitzer waren wohlhabende, nüchterne und of gebildete Landwirtschaftsunternehmer (gentleman farmer) mit Tausenden Sklaven (slaves). In ihren Bibliotheken (libraries) fanden sich neben Bibeln und Gesangsbüchern auch die antiken Historiker (historians), die grelle Bilder von tyrannischen Imperatoren (emperors) und ihrer Sittenlosigkeit (debauchery) zeichneten.

Schaudend konnte man nachlesen, wie es im alten Rom (Rome) zuging. "Nirgends war der Kaiser (emperor) so verschwendisch (wasteful) wie beim Bauen. Er errichtete ein Haus das er 'Goldenes Haus' nannte. Seine Eingangshalle war so gross, das in ihr eine 120 Fuss hohe Kolossalstatue (colossal statue) von ihm selbst (himself) stehen konnte. In den übrigen Teilen was alles mit Gold (gold) überzogen und mit Edelsteinen und Muscheperlen bunt verziert. Die Speisezimmer besassen getäfelte Decken [...]. 

Der Erbauer dieser Domus Aurea war Nero (Urenkel von Kaiser Augustus), der 54 AD als Siebzehnjähriger and die Macht kam und sich nach vierzehn turbulenten Regierungsjahren umbrachte. In den Stunden seines Todes soll er geklagt haben: "Welch ein Künstler (artist)  geht in mir verloren (lost) ."Nicht das Ende seiner Regierung (government) bewegte ihn, sondern der Abbruch seiner Karriere (career) als Showstar (showstar)...

Nov 12, 2016

Comparativer (Glenn)





Fragment, fragment. Here, fresh from the presses, Ch. 42 of This Is Heaven ("John is a great guy"). Note the emphasis:


Now the branching: (1) If this is their first time, there will be uninhibited petting and groping until they reach Alex’s single bed about which Ben will briefly comment (“exactly like mine”), and then they make love. (2) If this is their second time---more likely, alas---there wouldn’t be anything immediate, the kiss would be deeper, the lips would be wetter, but that would be it. They disengage and look at each other. It’s real this time, Ben lost in admiration of Alex’s beauty---beauty here in the widest sense of the word, full Plato---and so it’s about Alex's inner assets, his intelligence, wit, charisma, soul. Alex reciprocates---not quite as innocent as we’d like (Ben’s body, skin, lips, cheerful profile, resplendent teeth, hip-hop kinetics pass the alpha mind)---but soon we revert to the truer issues, Ben’s own charisma for example, or his effortless formality (not that we’ve seen much of it during this episode, but I assure you), or Ben’s bearing, accentuated and tender (somehow letting others know how important they are---his secret weapon during A-level assignments, I guess, and a key ingredient of the alchemy between the two). And the nostrils. OMG, I failed to mention Ben’s breathing nostrils.


Are you still there? Then you may like the GREEN EYES. The first part is out, available as Kindle book on Amazon, under this link:


Night Owl Reviews
"click"

Jul 5, 2016

Good writing: About a dog --- James Joyce


We've started reading Ulysses, and we're not disappointed. Yes, sure, there's a problem with the tome in that there's a problem with literature anyhow, especially the literate sort: the writing coasts on the associative skills of the reader, and them skills tend to diminish with space-time. Hundred years later, us never having been to Ireland---or to Dublin, where the "plot" is set, mercilessly---not sharing much of Joyce's classical education, there's a lot of stuff we don't dig. Thousand years down the road, it'll be worse. But we are learning. We've begun to steal already ("in the shell of his hands" has made it into the penultimate chapter of This Is Heaven). And we feel assured; Joyce---hundred times better than us, of course---uses roughly the same observational distance to his characters that we keep when engaging them in a dialogue. 

Good writing. Here, from the first part, Episode III (Proteus), about a dog: 

A woman and a man. I see her skirties. Pinned up, I bet. 

Their dog ambled about a bank of dwindling sand, trotting, sniffing on all sides. Looking for something lost in a past life. Suddenly he made off like a bounding hare, ears flung back, chasing the shadow of a lowskimming gull. The man's shrieked whistle struck his limp ears. He turned, bounded back, came nearer, trotted on twinkling shanks. On a field tenney a buck, trippant, proper, unattired. At the lacefringe of the tide he halted with stiff forehoofs, seawardpointed ears. His snout lifted barked at the wavenoise, herds of seamorse. They serpented towards his feet, curling, unfurling many crests, every ninth, breaking, plashing, from far, from farther out, waves and waves.

Nov 28, 2015

AuthorsInterviews


Cool, folks, we've had a sit-down with Fiona Mcvie of AuthorsInterviews about the Green Eyes, and we held forth like there's no tomorrow.


They seem to have some really cool offices over there

(Q: "Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?" A: "Yes and no. There are lots of messages. I don’t know whether you had this in High School, writing essays that would “interpret” a particular piece of literature. We had this a lot. The (implicit) question always was: “What does the author mean, what does he/she want to say?” Even then I thought the question beside the point. If you have a clear message, you write an opinion piece for the New York Times, you don’t write a novel, or a play, or a poem. Art---if that’s what we are doing---art is about ambiguity. There is no clear message, there shouldn’t be, in fact. The more ambiguity, the better"). Along those lines.

Nov 25, 2015

Google mis-search --- This is heaven --- (teaser)

(We're already in Chapter 5. Godehart has been tricked into underwriting the Festival Award of $$$ 100k, which explains the whiskeys. Alice, Godehart, Alex and John sit on the terrace of Nick's restaurant, and talk, yes, what, they talk neologisms:)

“If you control the website, you control the festival, more or less,” Alex says.
“This isn’t the festival site,” I say, “It’s my site.”
“Who would know?” Alex asks.
“Anybody who needs to know about the festival. It takes a split second to discover a mis-search. People have experience,” I say.
“Mis-search.” Alex’s tongue likes the word. “A bit heavy on the ear perhaps, but useful. The most frequently committed act of our era, mis-search, an act in dire need of a term. You invented this? ... Can you google ‘mis-search’?” he adds in Alice’s direction.

Alice---who should slap Alex’s wrist now and steer the conversation back to Godehart’s predicament---Alice says:“We have him back, we have him back.” She means Alex.
“I was like this before?” Alex asks.
“Yes, on a good day.”
“Well, this isn’t a good day,” Alex answers, “google ‘mis-search’.”

Alice googles “mis-search.”




Nada. Not one mis-search on Google. “A real neologism, John,” Alex says, and slaps my shoulder. “Dude. You are worth it.”

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