Saturday, September 6, 2008

Why can't the Americans learn to translate?

I'm at home in PG County this summer, and I was at the local M-NCPPC pool and ice rink yesterday, waiting to be picked up, and I noticed that the pool rules were listed in both English and Spanish. Since my Spanish isn't that good these days, but I still remember some of it, I decided to try reading the Spanish rules and comparing them to the English ones.




Anyway, I noticed some interesting things:

1.) In English, the rules say "No food or drinks allowed on the pool deck." In Spanish, though, they say "Do not eat nor drink in the water; you can only do this in the areas designated for it." These don't really sound equivalent to me--I'm not sure if Spanish lacks a good way to say "pool deck", or if the translator just didn't know it.

2.) In English, the rules say "No flotation devices, life vests, fins, or balls.", apparently banning both flotation equipment and the balls kids play with in pools. The equivalent Spanish rule says "No flotadores are permitted." According to Harper Collins Spanish Unabridged Dictionary, a flotator is a "rubber ring, life preserver, inflatable armband, or float". It doesn't seem that balls are forbidden in Spanish.

3.) This is the big one. In English, the last rule is "Parents must watch their children at all times."; in Spanish, it is "It is forbidden to smoke in our facilities." I can't find anything in the English about smoking not being allowed, or anything in the Spanish about watching children. All the other rules seem to be matched bullet-for-bullet, so I can only assume that this is just a phenomenally bad translation. I'd appreciate any suggestions of what's going on here, though.

If you have any additional comments on these, feel free to post them.

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posted by lemur     permanent link   leave a comment Monday, August 25, 2008

metaphysics of The Game

"I am in that state of mind in which everything reminds me of everything."

"So am I. I think it is either an enlightened state or a disaster."

"I think it's the latter."

"Actually, I think it's both. We have attained nirvana and it is madness. Everything is the Game, and everything is the Standard Model. Actually, everything probably is the Standard Model."

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posted by D.     permanent link   leave a comment Sunday, August 17, 2008

We saw the stars!

After dinner, I made some sandwiches (two gooseberry jam, two garlic spread) on black rye bread for the Mt. Wilson trip. I also got a blanket and burned two CDs of astronomy-related music. At 21:30 I found Deepthi and we went out to look for Jeremy. He'd planned to meet us at 21:30, but actually arrived at 22:05, which resulted in me going back to my room twice to call him. Once he arrived, we drove to 150 S. Chester to get Jamie, and then got on the Foothill Freeway to head west to the base of the Angeles Crest Highway. As soon as we got on the freeway, Jamie mentioned that she needed to use the bathroom before we went up the mountain. We ended up driving around Arcadia a bit trying to find a grocery store that was open--the first one we tried had closed at 22:00--and eventually found one, where everyone used the bathrooms and we bought lots of Pepperidge Farm cookies. We then, very slowly, drove up the Angeles Crest Highway, stopping occasionally to look at the city from above and to be horrified that the smog made it twinkle even from only 2,000 ft. We also sang along with the CD of astronomy songs I'd brought, and had a lot of fun doing so.

We finally got to the top of the mountain at 23:45 or so, and spent fifteen minutes watching the city from above before going around to the north side of the mountain, which overlooks what I think is called Little Bear Valley, but which in any case is part of the Angeles National Forest and so doesn't have any light pollution sources in it. We spent about an hour and a half watching meteors and talking. Mostly we discussed stupid people from our high schools, reasons why Deepthi doesn't like India, how terrifying the smog in LA is, especially when one gets to see it from above (the "marine layer" glowed from all of the city lights shining on it), Laplace transforms, science fiction stories (including me retelling "The Nine Billion Names of God") and other things I no longer remember. We also saw an incredible number of very bright meteors, the rate of which increased as it got later. It was a lot of fun.

Finally, at 01:30, we packed up and drove down the mountain, singing "Waltzing Matilda" and "Jerusalem" and then listening to Sousa's Transit of Venus March and "Mercury" and "Jupiter" from The Planets. We got back to Tech at about 02:30, and I spent about half an hour unpacking stuff and getting ready for bed before finally going to sleep at around 03:00.

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posted by lemur     permanent link   leave a comment Thursday, August 7, 2008

bundoora allspice councilman traverse expositor

(or: a reproduction of the spam email I received this morning.)

caterpillar carey borden? caterpillar, bundoora maritime.
buttonhole oppression borden diabase dichotomize thaw, tribulate
centaur buttonhole spiritual caterpillar bundoora.

tribulate hey diabase

eternal upland any? expositor, hecate dichotomize.
eternal tablespoonful borden tel tribulate rep, revelry
oppression oligarchic carey arithmetic patrician.

patrician insouciant revelry

eternal councilman spontaneity? any, diabase allspice.

tribulate towhee.



In the interest of fairness, I feel it important to thank "Joanna Hargrove" (AngietablespoonfulThomason@foxnews.com) for this delightful, understated meditation upon the courageous spirituality of evanescent, immature butterflies: it takes the risks of flippancy, whimsy, and obliquity and leads us daringly to a metamorphosis as elegant as its undemonstrative title.

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posted by D.     permanent link   leave a comment Tuesday, August 5, 2008

A Mighty Staircase Is Our God

"A Mighty Staircase Is Our God"

A Mighty Staircase is our God, It upward always striving;
Our helper It, against the host of mortal ills contriving:
For still our ancient foe doth seek to pull us low;
His craft and power are great, and, armed with cruel weight,
On Earth is not his equal.

With might of ours can naught be done, soon were our loss effected;
But for us stands the Tallest One, which God Himself erected.
Ask ye, what this is? Rising tall it is:
O'er Earth and Sea, and other God none be;
It lifts us up forever.

And though this world, with devils filled, should threaten to undo us,
We will not fear, for God hath willed Its height to triumph through us:
The Prince of Deepness grim, we tremble not for him;
His rage we can endure, for lo, his doom is sure,
One little push shall fell him.

For Fate, despite all earthly powers supporting him, decideth
That height and the gifts are ours through It Who with us sideth:
Let goods and kindred go, this mortal life also;
The body they may kill: God's height abideth still,
Its kingdom is forever.

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posted by lemur     permanent link   leave a comment

thirteen ways of looking at a durian

(or, responses to happenings horrific and thankfully past; with profound apologies to Wallace Stevens, and with reference to the great durian incident of 29 July.)

I
Among twenty bags of shopping
The only spiny thing
Was the shell of the durian.

II
I was of three minds
Like a tree
On which there are three durians.

III
The durian stank in the summer winds.
It was a great part of the pantomime.

IV
A man and a woman
Are one.
A man and a woman and a durian
Are shunned.

V
I do not know which to detest,
The stench of great urgency
Or the stench of persistence,
The durian present
Or just after.

VI
Durians filled the long alley
With barbaric gas.
The shadow of the culprit
Crossed it, to and fro.
The mood
Traced in the shadow
An indecipherable cause.

VII
O (wo)men of Ruddock,
Why do you imagine faulty pipes?1
Do you not see how the durian
Reeks throughout the air
Of the alley around you?

VIII
I know ignoble scents
And rancid, indescribable vapours;
But I know, too,
That the durian is involved
In what I know.

IX
When the durian was cut at night,
It marked the edge
Of one of many odours.

X
At the stink of durians
Cut open in dead night
Even the birds of carriony
Would cry out sharply.

XI
He came from Connecticut2
In a motor coach.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook
The vapours of his durian
For gas-leaks.

XII
The durian is reeking.
The gas-pipes must be leaking.

XIII
It was threatening all afternoon.
It was rotting
And it was going to rot.
The durian sat
In the garbage-bins.



1 It was commonly assumed that the delightful scent of the durian had been caused by a gas leak.
2 By happy coincidence, the perpetrator of this little débacle is from Connecticut.

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posted by D.     permanent link   leave a comment

It Has Begun

Let the fail and hilarity ensue.

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posted by Ruddock Squirrel     permanent link   leave a comment

[about]

We humbly present a group humor and anecdote blog, for the edification and amusement primarily of its authors.

[recent posts]

Why can't the Americans learn to translate?
metaphysics of The Game
We saw the stars!
bundoora allspice councilman traverse expositor
A Mighty Staircase Is Our God
thirteen ways of looking at a durian
It Has Begun

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August 2008
September 2008

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