So I'm starting in a 7th Sea game (swashbuckling, piracy, adventure, etc., for those not familiar with it), and I'm afraid my character has started to take over my brain. Good thing for playing, baaaad for getting anything useful done today.
The two new things I'll wind up sharing with you today come from my growing store of piratical knowledge. From Rafael Sabatini's classic swashbuckling novel Captain Blood comes the antiquated term for port (the direction, not the drink), larboard, which I think has a nice ring to it.
And from the running-knots, slipknots, and nooses I've been practicing today (don't ask), I can show you how to tie a strangle-snare (it's the second one down).
Enjoy, mateys. (Arr!)
Lest anyone say that you can't learn anything from comics... I say to them now, HA! For behold, within three days' worth of Ozy and Millie archives, I discovered two new things for myself:
The Meaning of Like: Immanuel Kant's concept of the noumenon, the "thing in itself" or reality of an object as opposed to the mere observable phenomenon of it. (Actually, this made me think of Plato and Aristotle's universals, but I think I'd need to talk to my old philosophy prof to understand the difference, if there is one.)
And on a lighter note, take a look at Hitting for The Cycle, where I came across the concept of, well, um, hitting for the cycle. It's a baseball thing. It refers to the feat of one player hitting a single, a double, a triple, and a home run all in the same game. (Apparently they leave out pop flies and fouls. ;) ) If a player does them in numerical order, it's called a "natural cycle."
And on an *even* lighter note-- the New York Special Olympics' annual Rubber Duck Race down the East River went off without a quack today. (Sorry. I couldn't resist. Not that I tried hard.)
Alright, this may have as much to do with my consumption this evening as the hard-hitting predilictions of a certain role-playing character of mine... I've been reading up a bit on moonshine. Does it help any that I started my reading with ouzo and arak? No, I didn't think so.)
Anyway, on the Meade Hall, there's a drain-cleaner of a drink known as Mulekick (sorry, that link is for Meade Hall Patrons only). Mulekick is... powerful stuff. REALLY powerful stuff. Vodka and overproof rum are light aperitifs compared to it. What I never knew... and now wonder if the original creator knew... is that "white mule" is another name for moonshine (which, as far as I know, is the strongest-proofed alcohol in *this* world, at least).
And... could this be any more of a paradox? Yet another name for moonshine is "mountain dew." Now, the only Dew that I've known of has the *opposite* effect of alcohol, being a strongly caffeinated beverage, drink of the gods for CompSci majors everywhere (at least, those that don't prefer Jolt or something stronger). But the original use of the word was for 'shine, and the original marketing idea of the soda was for "zero proof moonshine." (And just for amusement value, I can sing the second of the two "Mountain Dew" songs shown on that last site. My sister taught it to me, complete with hick accent. Lord only knows where *she* learned it.)
Drat. I *did* have a couple of things in mind when I opened this page, and now I haven't the foggiest of what I was going to write.
Something about the Olympics, which, for someone who doesn't like sports, I'm oddly addicted to (always have been).
Something about adaptation and athletes' body types.
Something about volleyball (like, did you know.that it was originally called "Mintonette" by its creator (whose name was Morgan, not Minton?)).
And something about... hm. Oh, yeah! There's been some question in the minds of the U.S. athletes as to whether they need to remove their laurels during the playing of the U.S. National Anthem. It's been mixed-- Michael Phelps started doing it, and many of the swimmers seem to have followed his lead (hey, with that many gold medals, he set a pretty strong precedent. Heh), but others have left it on. What I never realized is that uncovering is more than tradition-- it's the law. I don't believe you could actually be *arrested* for not taking your hat off when the Star-Spangled Banner is played (the text uses the word "should" rather than "shall" or "will," making it more guideline than rule), but I find it interesting that it *does* make it into the U.S. Code (Title 36, Chapter 10, Section 171), part of the chapter known familiarly as the Flag Code.
Feh. The little grey cells, they are slushy tonight. Bed for me.
Well, now. It seems that even rotting my brain with swashbucklers can be educational. :)
For one (and here's the race issue coming up again, oddly)-- it seems that the brief bio I read of Alexandre Dumas, père in the foreword of Three Musketeers, which mentioned that although he had popular fame he never achieved great recognition until the modern day, left out the "why." He was a quadroon-- his grandmother was a slave from Haiti, and the disapproval of his "mixed blood" haunted him his entire life.
And for another... I keep falling for Aussie guys. ::sigh:: It seems Errol Flynn was not (as I thought) English, but Australian by birth. And he was a near-unknown when he was cast in the lead role of Captain Blood-- Robert Donat (The Count of Monte Cristo,The 39 Steps, and (later) Goodbye, Mr. Chips) was originally cast as the good doctor, but when he didn't show up on the first day of shooting, Warner Brothers had to scramble for another lead. (And the young Errol wasn't their first choice, even then.)
His first film role (a mere 18 months earlier) was playing Fletcher Christian in an Australian-made film called In the Wake of the Bounty-- the *first* movie ever made based on the story of the famous mutiny. Amusingly enough, Flynn was, himself, a descendant of the HMS Bounty mutineers-- his mother was Lily Mary "Marrelle" Young, descendant of both Edward Young (a midshipman on the Bounty) and Fletcher Christian. And Fletcher Christian's ancestry can be traced back to the Plantagenets (as in, Edward I, Henry II, etc). And lest these not be enough swashy coincidences for you-- Flynn is also reputedly related (distantly) to Robert De Vere, one of many names bandied about as a candidate for the "real" Robin Hood.
Perhaps swashing really *is* in the blood...?
Lots of (frequently disrupted) ordering-work today, no desk time, so you get a couple of interesting sites I wandered across in Choice today.
For example, I never knew that the Modern Language Association (MLA-- c'mon, you've heard of them. You had to write at least half your papers according to their note and bibliography standards) had a weekly radio show. It's called What's the Word? and you can find out about it (and listen to archived programs) here.
And the Civil Rights Movement Veterans site is just... cool. I've mentioned before how oddly distant the civil rights movement feels to me, history-wise. To me, it's not a recent revolution-- it's the status quo. But to the people on the Veterans site... they lived through it. They were there, and they can still tell us about it. There it is, first-person history, where everyone with Internet access can read it. If you're here, you've got it. Go read.
The reference wackiness continues... three more animals (two live, one extinct, all confirmed real, this time) that I'd never heard of:
Dead (thank goodness): the 10-foot-tall, flesh-eating bullockornis, a.k.a. (I kid you not) "Demon Duck of Doom."
Living in South America: the coypu or nutria, a giant water rat with orange teeth.
And finally, found living in Myanmar (Burma) less than 10 years ago: the leaf muntjac or leaf deer, so called because it's so small that local hunters would wrap it in a leaf to take home their kill.
And in case you wonder where the heck I find these.. "coypu" comes right after "coyote" in Library of Congress subject headings (which I was looking up for a patron), and both the leaf deer and the demon duck of doom (boy, do I like that phrase) are mentioned in a recently published book on extinction (still deciding whether to get it... reviews were sort of lukewarm, and natural history doesn't play that well with our clientele).
Hmph. No sooner do I write an article for the library newsletter on the nasty email phenomenon of phishing than I *get* phished. My mail today included this message purportedly from Citibank online's service center with the subject of "Citibank e-amil verification." (No, I didn't include the link she gave me. If you really want to get scammed or keylogged, do it on your own time. And I say "she" because the awfully valid-looking return address was to a female name.servicecenter(at)citibankonline.com. Pity her .jpg was so wiggly-looking or I might've been fooled for about three seconds.)
And no, lest you worry, I didn't actually *get* scammed. I went to Citibank's real website and followed their very nice link on email fraud and reported the blasted thing to them and the FTC both. So nyah. What bothers me is that nearly 30% of U.S. adults (according to MailFrontier) wouldn't have recognized it as a scam, and probably would have wound up with a really expensive case of identity theft. :(
And so, although my soapbox is small and lonely and not terribly high, I offer as a PSA the article I wrote for the newsletter. If it keeps at least one other person from getting hooked by a phishing scam, I'll have accomplished something. ^_^
Slimming your Inbox: Phishing Scams
You’ve gotten an official-looking email alleging to be from a bank, auction site, credit card company, or ISP. It asks you to click on the link provided and enter your account information, PIN, and/or SSN in order to verify or update it for their records. STOP. You may have just been “phished.”
* Recognizing it: The fraudulent email you receive may look completely authentic, down to the logo and typeface of the real bank. The source and the link will look real, and may even include the bank’s genuine web address or email. However, a real bank will NEVER ask for personal or account information via email. Also, some phishing scams might appear to come from an institution with whom you have no account or other affiliation.
* Dealing with it: “Phishing” or “email spoofing” is an attempt to steal your personal and financial information. Do NOT respond to an email request for such information; you run a serious risk of identity theft. Call your bank to verify it (but don’t use any of the contact information supplied in the email). If you suspect a scam, report it. Forward the email to the FTC at uce@ftc.gov. The financial institution may also have a place to report the scam on their legitimate website.
* Check out these sites for further information:
Wikipedia: Phishing: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phishing
AntiPhishing Working Group: http://www.antiphishing.org/
MailFrontier: http://www.mailfrontier.com/
FTC ID Theft: http://www.consumer.gov/idtheft/
Quickly, quickly, you get your two new things, and then you will be trivia-less for an entire weekend while I visit my folks. Let me point you to a couple of sites my wikiing has turned up today:
The thylacine, a.k.a. Tasmanian tiger or Tasmanian wolf (because it looks a little like both of those beasts); in fact, it was a marsupial (like a kangaroo or an opossum) with a really big mouth. Former native of Australia, believed extinct, tho' unconfirmed sightings keep popping up in the wild. However... it may not stay that way.
And, just because I found the name deeply amusing, I offer you THE MONGOLIAN DEATHWORM!!! Shades of Dune, anyone?
Liz just sent me the link for a really cool article from the June 2004 issue of Popular Science. PS asked a very "wired" writer (Larry Smith, former executive editor of the now-defunct Yahoo! Internet Life, in fact) to spend 10 days at the beginning of the year in 1954. Well, not literally. He wasn't being sent back in a time machine. He didn't have to use hep slang, or wear a wool flannel suit... but he was not "allowed," by the terms of the experiment, to use any popular technology less than 50 years old. No cel. No computer. No iPod. No VCR. Not even Thinsulate for his winter coat. (He lives in NYC.) The results were... illuminating.
And I, muahaha, picked up a couple of choice new tidbits from his discoveries. First, "ZIP code" didn't have anything to do with being "zippy." (Well, the term deliberately implied it, but it's an acronym-- it stands for something: Zone Improvement Plan.) And here's what surprised me the most-- ZIP codes weren't implemented until 1963, and even then they were not mandatory. Funny, I'd have sworn the ZIP code book on Mom's desk was more decrepit than that... except there's a picture of Mr. Zip on the cover, so it must be post-1970.
Here's the other bit (wow, another Jack Kerouac reference-- I really should read him someday): the term "Beat Generation" wasn't coined because of their strongly rhythmic poetry, or the bongo drums they played in smoky subterranean coffeehouses. It's actually short for "beatific" or "beatitude," referring to the state of spiritual bliss they strove for.
I SOOO needed a nap today. (Instead, I just wound up drinking lots of maté.) You saw the time stamp on my last entry, right? Well, my one bright hope as I went to bed was that today was Wednesday, and I don't have to go to work 'til 1 on Wednesdays. I FULLY intended to sleep in. (Of course, I wound up forgetting to turn off one of my two morning alarms, but as you'll see, that didn't matter much.) As it was, I was awakened a half-hour *before* my first alarm was scheduled to go off by my bed vibrating. (No, I didn't put a quarter in it; the windows were vibrating, too. And the walls.) As it turned out, my street, which was "scraped" nearly three months ago to prepare it for paving, was getting paved. That morning. Without prior warning. With a REALLY DAMN LOUD STEAMROLLER. About the *only* good thing to come of this-- well, two good things-- is that the road is now paved (and it's lovely), and luckily, I didn't have to be at work at 10 (because I would've been stuck in my driveway). But I'm short at least 4 hours of sleep, so the rest of this will be on the short side.
So, my two new things for the day:
1) Percy Bysshe Shelley, English Romantic poet (whose birthday was today), was an atheist. Militantly atheist, in fact. He was expelled from Oxford in 1811 for writing a tract on "The Necessity of Atheism" and sending it to college officials and (this takes brass) bishops. And it wasn't only college rebelliousness... the year he died, he wrote in a letter, "I have not the smallest influence over Lord Byron in this particular, and if I had, I should certainly employ it to eradicate from his great mind the delusions of Christianity which, in spite of his reason, seem perpetually to recur." (As a side note, why do atheists do that? Sure, there's no absolute proof *for* the existence of God-- that's why they call it "faith," you know-- but by the same token, there's no absolute proof *against* it, either. Sheesh. If you're going to argue on the grounds of "reason," use some damn logic, why don't you? (And as another side note, does Quentin Tarantino do *all* of his interviews drunk? This is the third time I've seen him on Leno or Conan or whatever, and yet again, he's totally plastered. Hm. Maybe he has stage fright.)) (Oh, and I'm too tired to look up proper citation format for a day-by-day calendar, but this comes from "irreligion," in Jeffrey Kacirk's Forgotten English 2004: a 365-Day Calendar, Wednesday, 4 August.)
Anyway....
2) A flash flood in 2001 in a remote corner of southeastern Iran uncovered some *very* old graves. Archaeologist Yousef Madjidzadeh is now leading a dig in the location for what he believes may be a *literate* Bronze Age society that actually predates Mesopotamia. Go read the article about it in the May 2004 issue (35:2, pp 40ff) of Smithsonian Magazine, entitled "Rocking the Cradle."
Okay. Bedtime.
Pity me. I'm still up because of this.
I started self-defensively ranting in my wishlist about why I wanted a copy of Edward Eager's Half Magic with exactly the same cover I had growing up, and it occured to me about a page into it that this was turning into more of a blog entry than a wishlist description. Aheh. So.
You know, I smiled the first time I read author Robin McKinley's bio; she writes that she remembers her childhood through what books she read where (she was a Navy brat, and got moved around a great deal). And I know exactly what she means... in every memory I have of myself when I was younger (except for pictures, when they generally got me to put it down), I had a book in my hand. Certainly I had a much firmer, richer relationship with books than I ever had with my own age group, growing up.
When my sister had her two children, I was still in college and quite determinedly still a child myself (heck, it was my last chance, after all). I didn't have much opportunity to see them when they were small and I've never been a good letter-writer, so I don't think we had too much effect on each other's lives back then. It's a little different now that my own friends have started having babies. I hear stories about their accomplishments, books and toys they seem to like (they're approaching 1, "seem" is the best we're gonna get for a bit, I think), shop for them, and it reminds me of the things I liked when I was little. (As I write this, I stare at a picture on the wall of a much younger me-- probably... 5?-- kneeling in a scattering of leaves under a blazingly yellow-orange maple tree, studying one leaf quite absorbedly. I remember the light blue jacket I'm wearing in the picture; it was my absolute favorite jacket, and I cried when I outgrew it.) Then there's the picture of Dad using the backhoe, putting in water lines for the campground. What you don't see in that picture is me-- I'm either riding in the bucket, or about 20 feet away, playing with my Tonka bulldozer, dump truck, and backhoe in the dirt pile the BIG backhoe created. (I'm helping, you see.) I loved my Tonka toys, darnit... make what you like of that.
Books were a very big portion of "things I liked" (the other was stuffed animals, and I blush to admit I still like those. Poor Dad-- he said I'd outgrow them by college.) I read a *lot,* so it would be pointless for me to try to list *everything* I read when I was younger. I don't even think I could do it, unless I could somehow get my hands on a full inventory of my elementary school library from... let's see... Fall 1976 to Spring 1982. And I say "full" because I remember systematically going through those shelves in 3rd or 4th grade (probably 3rd... 3rd grade was pretty traumatic, and I hid inside a book for as much of it as I could get away with) and reading practically everything on them. (I skipped most of Sports.)
I thought it would be an interesting exercise for me, though, to try to list as many of my *favorite* childhood books as I can remember (meaning, I read it at least five times before jr. high). Perhaps the true test of a classic is that you not only love it as a child, but remember it 25-odd years later as an adult. So, I'll start the list here, but I'll probably add to it (in the body or in comments) over the next several days. as I have time and inclination. (Note that for series, I'll probably just list the series title and author). Soooo... let's see... in order of "as it comes to me":
- Edward Eager, Half Magic and other books in this series
- A. A. Milne, Winnie the Pooh (I still have this- red cover, yellow Pooh in the middle. It came to college and grad school with me.)
- C.S. Lewis, Chronicles of Narnia (read at least 20 times each-- I had the boxed set, and I read the covers off)
- Ingri and Edgar D'Aulaire, D'Aulaire's Book of Greek Myths, Norse Gods and Giants (kinda garish, but the library wound up getting another copy of the Greek Myths because I read it so much)
- E. Nesbit, The Book of Dragons
- Albert Payson Terhune, Lad: A Dog and others of the series (they were Dad's)
- Marguerite Henry, the Misty of Chincoteague books
- Grimm's Fairy Tales
- Hans Christian Andersen's Fairy Tales
- South American fairy tales (don't remember the exact title anymore)
- Russian folk tales (ditto)
- a series of picture books of stories from famous operas... I remember a big, viny "F" on the cover of each of them... ::tromps upstairs to get them:: Okay-- Publisher is Gakken, series is "Fantasia Pictorial: Stories from Famous Music," and all the illustrators are Japanese. (William Tell, Peer Gynt, Hansel and Gretel, Peter and the Wolf, Firebird...)
- Dr. Seuss, The Lorax, Green Eggs and Ham, Go Dog Go, One Fish, Two Fish, the... um... one with all the spots, and others (but those were my favorites)
- Esphyr Slobodkina, Caps for Sale
- The Story of Zacchaeus (I can't remember whose adaptation this is, it's a Bible story about a really short tax collector)
- Ruth Stiles Gannett, My Father's Dragon
- Aesop, Fables
- Miriam Young, Miss Suzy
- Munro Leaf, Ferdinand the Bull
- Norman Bridwell, Clifford, the Big Red Dog
- the Serendipity books (Serendipity, Flutterby and, um, one with a bat)
- Rudyard Kipling, Just So Stories ("How the Camel Got Its Hump", e.g.), Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, and Jungle Book
- Don Freeman, Corduroy
- Margery Williams, The Velveteen Rabbit
- L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables series
- Laura Ingalls Wilder, Little House on the Prarie series
- Michael Bond, Paddington Bear books
- E. B. White, Charlotte's Web
- T.H. White, Once and Future King
- Ellen Raskin, The Westing Game
- Carol Ryrie Brink, The Pink Motel (even the book was pink)
- Roald Dahl, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, James and the Giant Peach, Danny, Champion of the World and others
- Edith Hamilton, Mythology (seems to me it was an illustrated ed.)
- George MacDonald, The Princess and the Goblin and others
- Eric Carle, The Very Hungry Caterpillar
- Crockett Johnson, Harold and the Purple Crayon
- Carolyn Keene, the Nancy Drew original series (my sisters'-- some Hardy Boys in there, too)
- Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden
- Joan Aiken, The Wolves of Willoughby Chase
- Elizabeth George Speare, The Witch of Blackbird Pond
- E. L. Konigsburg, From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler
- Robert C. O'Brien, Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH
- Kin Platt, The Mystery of the Witch Who Wouldn't
- Robin McKinkey, The Blue Sword, The Door in the Hedge, Beauty, and eventually everything she's written
- Maxwell Grant, The Shadow novels (Dad's fault, originally)
- Madeleine L'Engle, Wrinkle in Time series and everything else she wrote
- Willo Davis Roberts, The Girl with the Silver Eyes
- James H. Schmitz, the Telzey Amberdon books, and Witches of Karres
- Robert Arthur, The Three Investigators series
- Agatha Christie, any of the Miss Marple or Harley Quinn mysteries (I didn't like Poirot)
- a Giant Quiz Book from... the 50s or 60s, I think? maroon cover
- William Shakespeare, The Tempest
- Thomas Rockwell, How to Eat Friend Worms
- John Christopher, City of Gold and Lead (it scared the bejeebers out of me, but it made an impression)
- Elizabeth Scarborough, Songs from the Seashell Archives series
- Anne McCaffrey, the Harper Hall trilogy
I happened across an amusing (and informative!) site. This is essentially "String Theory for Dummies"-- it certainly explained a highly complex and theoretical concept better than *I've* ever read before... (and imagine my surprise when I discovered it had nothing at all to do with the World's Largest Balls of Twine).
Check it out (start in Basics): The Official String Theory Web Site
And a new word for the day: sophontitarian (as in humanitarian, but derived from sophont, intelligent life (not necessarily human).)
And in other geospatial news, as of 09:00 GMT today, we have our first full hurricane of the season. I don't expect my VA friends will be leaping up and down in glee at this news, as Hurricane Alex is already up to a Cat 2 and is currently swanning around just off Cape Hatteras. Y'all're probably getting tropical storm warnings at the least. :/ The good news is that he's supposed to head out to sea from there, so you shouldn't have to deal with him for too much longer. The bad news is that this looks to be the start of a bumpy season.
Very short today-- I spent over an hour browsing the second of these two concepts, so rather than attempt to summarize, I'll just send you right there.
So, a new word for the day: misprision, and
a not-so-new but incredibly cool scientific discovery: Geobacter bacteria
(And in case you can't handle .pdf files, here's the most recent press on it:)
'Wonderbug' changes waste into power from Kansas.com - The Wichita Eagle, no subscription
I just wanted to note, since I missed it yesterday, that Saturday's full moon was a blue moon. ^_^ The original interpretation of the phrase meant "the third full moon in any three-month quarter of the year containing four full moons" (feel free to figure that out and then explain it to me), but James Pruett in the March 1946 Sky and Telescope defined it as the second full moon in any month (based on a misinterpretation), and that's become the standard.
Oh-- and it was also the Full Sturgeon Moon, in case you were curious. And in case you don't happen to have them around your area (I do), a sturgeon is a huge mother of a of primitive fish. They are *the* largest freshwater fish (how do record sizes of 7+ feet, and over 300 pounds grab you?). Don't believe me? Check out this monster out of Lake Michigan. There are even bigger ocean-going varieties, too-- look at the white sturgeon, for example, which lives in the ocean but comes upstream to spawn (like salmon). And you've heard of beluga caviar? (No, it doesn't come from whales. Whales don't lay eggs, silly, they're mammals. Well, okay, some mammals lay eggs-- platypi and echidnas, specifically-- but no whales.) Anyway, I found out that that's a kind of sturgeon, as well.
