Archive for: April, 2007

Fs=-kx

Apr 30 2007 Published by Sarah, etc. under Geekery

I was listening to Brain Food Podcast this morning and one of the questions he reviewed was on Robert Hooke’s letter to Isaac Newton that said that if a hole could be drilled straight through the earth, an object could pass from opening to opening with sufficiently reduced friction that the entire trip would take less than 45 minutes. And in a vehicle with a low enough mass, there would almost be no need for a boost at the midpoint and the it would slow to a stop at exactly the exit point. After I finished thinking lousy molten core—we gotta get on this, I started to wonder about why we don’t hear about Hooke more often?

Most people probably aren’t all gonzo for 17th century scientists the way I am, but Hooke’s architecture is used every day all over America—have main artery streets with smaller lanes shooting of them at intervals. His work on the compound microscope lets us see billions of light years away. He invented the universal joint—used in your car—and the wrote the Law of Elasticity—used in your wristwatch. Lexigraphically, he coined the word “cell.” Take that, Anton van Leeuwenhoek! And he wrote with a quill afire:

An Attempt to Prove the Motion of the Earth by Observations:

It cannot, I confess, but seem very uncouth and strange to such as have been used to confine the World with less dimensions, that this annual Orb of the Earth of so vast a magnitude, should have no sensible Parallax amongst the fixt Stars, and therefore ’twas in vain to indeavour to answer that objection. For it is unreasonable to expect that the fancies of most men should be so far streined beyond their narrow dimensions, as to make them believe the extent of the Universe so immensly great as they must have granted it to be, supposing no Parallax could have been found.

I reread the first half of Quicksilver last year, and Waterhouse’s plague year sojourn at Epsom was as funny and breathtakingly smart as I remember it—mostly because he spends the entire time trying to avoid Hooke, who keeps trying to make him help out with experiments that are, essentially, vivisection. So Waterhouse putters around, trying to get Christopher Wren to notice him and require his aid, but Wren is taken with apiaries and can’t be bothered. So Waterhouse ends up learning all about cells, and bellows and vacuums, which come in handy much later on down the line when his descendents are organ-players and code-breakers.

Let’s remember Robert Hooke. I think I’m going to go ahead and have a full blown crush on him.

9 responses so far

Fanfiction Improves My Vocabulary

Apr 27 2007 Published by Sarah, etc. under Lexpionage

This week fanfiction has yielded several words, two new, one old, and all very precise. A lot of nonsense gets thrown around about fanfiction and the writers thereof being cheesy and inept and just playing at writing, when if they were really serious they’d all be writing the Great American Novel (or what have you) already. I won’t even dignify the final part of that, but I find that fanfic writers are some of the most serious users of words you’ll ever meet. They constantly seek to refine what they say and how they say it make it better, more descriptive, and more precise, while avoiding all the pitfalls that come with moving something away from its genesis. So when I get to read great stories and learn new words at the same time, it is, as the kids say, made of win.

Osculation: the act of kissing

Found this brand new this week! I was reading a drabble—a story exactly 100 words long—about Wash and Zoe, written by a good friend. I had to look it up because at first I read “oscillation” and that didn’t make any sense at all. Contextually, folk were kissing. Just get a load of this:

“Slowly.” He kissed her mouth tasting her swollen lips, savoring the sweetness of her anxious tongue. Fingertips light on skin that covered her…everything. Her own hands shook with anticipation as he broke the osculation.

And osculation is indeed, all about smooches. After I stopped daydreaming long enough to look it up, I found that its verb form, osculate, is a mathematical term for the contact of two curves. I was giddy. Not only did it press my Wash/Zoe button, but also my math button, which is very close by, because my fanon concept of Wash is very mathematical and scientific under all his goofiness and aloha shirts and toy dinos. It’s not a word that could be used everywhere and there are plenty of other synonyms for kiss, but the precision of the word, especially because there are only 99 others to tell the whole story, is amazing.

Lavaliere: a pendant or chain worn around the neck

I knew this word, not in the least sense from having a sister who is Phi Mu and I remember the lavaliere thing being a big deal for her. But this word has come up several times in some Hermione-centric Harry Potter fic lately and I was curious about how it was different than a pendant, or a locket, or any of the other things women routinely drape around their necks. It seems that most necklace jewelry is based on the pendant idea, and that word comes from the Latin (undifferentiated in the Vulgate, too, which is interesting) pendere, meaning “to hang.” Same root as words like pendulum. But the lavaliere goes further and says that it must have a stone, usually a jewel. The word is a contraction of a name, The Duchesse de la Valliere, one of the mistresses of Louis XIV, who popularized it. In this way, it can be a very precise word choice, especially in terms of fic—a necklace with royal connotation, holding a stone which in turn, is imbued with magical power. With a single word, the reader understands much, much more about that particular piece of jewelry and what it might possibly mean in terms of plot, than if the author were to say just “necklace” or even “pendant.”

Mendacity: habitual dishonesty or a tendency to lie

It’s no secret that I read Hermione-oriented stories because they represent the greatest portion of Snape-fic wherein he’s heterosexually paired.1 I recently gave up on a lengthy story because it was overly descriptive: nine pages in the middle of something that was already 50,000 or so words long about how Snape was really good at potions and Hermione liked to read. But right before the fit of Oh You Have Got to Be Kidding Me, I noticed the author described Snape’s mendacity. I knew contextually that it meant something bad, but I was sure if it was bad-greedy or bad-liar or bad-temperamental. So I looked it up and again, another extremely precise word. To be mendacious is not just to be a liar, but to be constantly lying to the point that it’s a mark of character. And it has a great root word, the Latin mendax, meaning “false.”

Read some fanfic this week. I promise you’ll learn something new.

1 If you know of some really good, long, plotty, possibly erotic Snape/Tonks or Snape/Sprout, I beg you, point me.

8 responses so far

The Return of the Amazing Sleep Machine

Apr 26 2007 Published by Sarah, etc. under Confession

A year ago, when I first started using a cflex machine, I was pretty upset about it. When I wasn’t enraged, I was panicking, and then I got angry at panicking, leading to more rage, which would make me hyperventilate more, until I found myself sitting in my car one afternoon, with all the windows rolled up, baking like a big angry cake while I hollered at the poor nurse who’d called me to check on me to see how I was adjusting to using it.

It took two weeks for me to really adjust to it, but after that, I was pretty well hooked. I still went to bed every night experiencing a dull glow of humiliation and I had to alter some of my other sleep habits to compensate for what was an extreme feeling of vulnerability (wearing the mask, I can’t really see much, nor can I smell anything, and it’s very difficult to talk). But that was a small price to pay for being able to fall asleep in a matter of minutes and sleep soundly for upwards of seven hours at a stretch.

Last weekend the mask broke. It’s a plastic cup, lined with gel for cushioning, that fits over the nose and is held on by means of a headgear. The straps of the headgear are held in place, on either side, with little clips that fit by means of a ball and socket joint. They’re very easy to pop in and out, as well they should be, considering it’s your breath being managed. One of the sockets broke off the mask structure, so the ball didn’t fit. So the mask couldn’t seal, so I couldn’t breathe properly, so I had to stop using it.

It was a terribly anxious three nights. I went to bed the first night convinced I probably wouldn’t sleep at all. I’d be back the way I used to be—waking up fully five and six times a night, maybe getting four hours of good sleep over the course. But I didn’t want to take anything, even benadryl, to help me because I didn’t want anything to interfere with my getting up at 5:00 a.m. schedule. Christopher and I even fought about it by the second night: a full-on, huffing, “No you!” “No you!” “You’re not LISTENING to me” level fight, after I had ordered a replacement. Sleep was long in coming and not good when it arrived.

But the replacement came yesterday and I happily clipped it on that night, welcoming the familiar burn of embarrassment, relishing the feeling of a column of air being forced down my throat. That’s what good rest feels like to me now. I was asleep almost immediately, it felt like, and stayed that way until Christopher turned the lights on at 5:05. It was glorious. I felt fast, cold air, the cup (a size larger now, a happy accident thus far) pressing on my top lip and then sweet, sweet darkness for seven solid hours.

One response so far

An Afternoon of Herbology

Apr 25 2007 Published by Sarah, etc. under Decontextualized

Last week I got to spend a couple hours at the Birmingham Botanical Gardens with Honu Girl and her co-worker. I had never been before and really enjoyed it. We saw the iris garden, the wildflower and bog garden, the herb garden (no vegetables to speak of yet), and finally, walked through all the crepe myrtles on the way out. It was sunny and warm and wonderful.

An orange Balzac azalea reaching for the sun. I had never seen one grow into a tree. I always thought azaleas were little shrubberies, unless someone maintained them for 20 years, and they became very big shrubberies. This one grew like a tall tree, with flowers on the ends of the branches.

An orange Balzac azalea.

I also liked looking at all the insects. There were several peony bushes with big, round buds like green and pink globes that looked like they could have burst into flower at any minute. These were usually covered with ants that looked fat and happy and industrious. But I couldn’t get a good shot of those, so here’s a tiny little blue flower, with a relatively staid spider:

Come onto my flower, said the spider.

3 responses so far

Bad Mood Tuesday

Apr 24 2007 Published by Sarah, etc. under Confession

Today I don’t like:

  • sunshine
  • myself
  • anybody else

Possible Reasons

  • dehydration
  • bad sleep
  • we’re all doofs

Possible Cures:

  • glass of water
  • new cflex mask
  • shack on isolated mountain

What I’d really like to do is just skip to Wednesday. Is that okay with everybody? I’m-a activate the flux capacitor.

3 responses so far

Hem Hem

Apr 23 2007 Published by Sarah, etc. under Fandom

The International Trailer for Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix:

It’s starting to look good.

Imelda Staunton as Umbridge is perfect, don’t you think? Her voice is so high and squeaky and she looks like such a sorority housemother from 1960– she can’t help but be utterly evil. I also really enjoy watching the glimpses of Fred and George’s chaos. Here’s hoping they go the full way and include the swamp and everything. And even though it’s only about two seconds long, I like the clip at the end of Remus holding Harry back. They both look so agonized and in such completely different ways.

Now, if someone could just let Alan Rickman know that, as cute and funny as his stage business is, Snape doesn’t actually go around whacking the students all the time, we’d be set.

5 responses so far

Away Down South in Dixie

Apr 20 2007 Published by Sarah, etc. under Lexpionage

Dixiephobia: an intense disdain for the South and southerners.

I encountered dixiephobia this week and am very glad of it. I’ve been trying for a long time to think of a word for a mindset that says all people in the South are toothless, shoeless, ignorant racists. I read it in an article by Deroy Murdock discussing the vitriol aimed at the Tennessee Center for Policy Research after they published statistics about Al Gore’s energy usage at his Nashville home. Murdock quotes a number of emails the TCPR received, all of which show, at best, an egregiously limited understand of people and life in the south. To wit:

“Why don’t you all go back to shooting one another across the hollows instead of trying to make people think anyone in Tennessee has an ounce of intelligence?” Roger Miller insisted. “Or better yet, get your snaggle tooth grins capped and learn to read and write…Someone who’s traveled the world here, and never ever wants to even fly across your state again.”

Nice. What do you think? I think dixiephobia is a misnomer the same way homophobia is a misnomer. There’s no fear there, unless it’s some vestigial fear of possibly turning southern (“Hi Mom? Dad? I’ve decided to let you know… I’m… Well, the thing is, and I think I’ve known this since I was a little kid… I’m a southerner.”), which makes about as much sense as fear of catching The Gay. You could spend too much time in the South and wind up… I don’t know—saying please, and thank you, and yes sir, yes ma’am, and slowing the hell down for a minute, and developing a taste for sweet tea. As fates go, that? Rules. Miller needs a nice long community ed course in “tolerance.”

In fact, that in and of itself is a great example of doublespeak. The movement to attach “-phobia” to words to mean “hatred of” disservices both genuine phobias (as agora-, hydro-, etc.) and those people whose irrational prejudices need to be legitimately corrected. As long as you name the uneducated, baseless loathing of an individual or group with the same terminology as you do an uncontrollable, chemical-based fear, it will be difficult to root out and destroy the irrationality behind the loathing. That is: too much feeling, not enough thinking. Would Miller or any person like him (and there are hundreds, based on the sample emails), understand if someone sat him down and said, “You, sir, are hateful.”? He thinks he’s justified in his hatred, as he perceives southerners to be less intelligent than he, and therefore, less than fully human. Sound familiar?

Y’all take a stand against dixiephobia today, okay?

That’s it for new and interesting words this week. Marciepooh wanted something derived from Magyar. I looked and I’m still looking, but there don’t seem to be very many. There are a few borrowed words (Goulash, anyone?), but those are also few and far between. The search continues.

3 responses so far

Near Misses and Quick Fixes

Apr 19 2007 Published by Sarah, etc. under Confession

Got pulled over this morning. Turns out I have a cracked tail light. I feel like I knew this, but this morning, at 5:15, in the middle of my less-than-perfectly-safe neighborhood, it honestly came as a surprise and I was able to say, “Tail light cracked? Oh god!”

The police man, who I didn’t get a good look at, but he sounded very young then asked me, “What are you doing around here?”

Sleepy and freaked out, this question made absolutely no sense and I almost answered literally–talking to you about my car. I managed, however, to say, “I live two blocks over.”

He looked back at my license and said, “Well. You sure do.”

I nodded. Then, when he didn’t say anything and just stood there, in the dark, with a flashlight, fiddling with my license I said, “I’ll have to take it in Saturday.”

“You going to work?” Like we were having some sort of shoot-the-breeze conversation.

“To exercise.”

“Oh.” He handed my license back and shined the light directly in my eyes. When I jerked back, he said, making this the most surreal police stop I have ever experienced, “Oh, I’m sorry. Just go to Pep Boys and get you some of that red tape.”

“Yes, sir.” And he backed away and got into his car and I sat for a minute watching him in my review mirror. He was young and blond and I put the car in gear and drove around the block with my cracked tail light and no citation and a plan to get me some of that red tape, indeed.

3 responses so far

Oh a Quest, in a Mine, Underground

Apr 18 2007 Published by Sarah, etc. under Gaming

What’s better than old school MJ singing Billie Jean? Some Night Elf singing Billy Maclure!

Takes you back, doesn’t it? Remember your first week playing? You no take candle! w00t! My favorite part is his rant at the end. It kind of encapsulates the entire World of Warcraft experience:

I’m gonna ding 10 in just three more bubbles!
Then I’ll get 60 and reduce this place to rubble!
My elf don’t shave but he ain’t got no stubble…
Logged out for an hour now my xp’s doubled!
That Princess pig gave me so damn much trouble.

2 responses so far

Julia, Sixteen Months

Apr 17 2007 Published by Sarah, etc. under Decontextualized, Never Off the Record

Walking, talking, offering you some noodles, and being delightful. As in:

Aunt Sarah: Julia, what do kitties say?
Julia: Uh-oh!

Miss Julia and some tasty spaghetti

Here!  Have some spaghetti!

3 responses so far

Older posts »