The personal blog of a genuine old maid and a closet transcendentalist. Blather about my everyday life, creative stuff, humor, political, and social commentary and, since I'm hopelessly Whovian, references to Doctor Who.
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I've just been asked to translate some text speak posted in a previous post about the genocide of the English Language.
Rather that re-post in that post, I will add this as a fresh post here.
What if Shakespeare wrote in text-speak?
What if we turned these lines:
"O! What a rouge and a peasant slave am I!
Is is not monsterous that this player here
But in a fiction, in a dream of passion,
That, from her working, all his vissage waned,
Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect,
A broken voice and his whole function suiting
With forms to his conceit?
To:
O! I M A SMF N ACORN!
4COL, ITS A BAMF, 4 ME
AFAICS, ITS AN AFJ, FUBAR
IMAO, I M A FUM
Oh! I am a stupid motherfucker, and a compltely obsessive really nutty person!
For crying out loud, it's a bad ass motherfucker, for me
As far as I can see, it's an April Fool's joke, fucked up beyond belief
In my arrogant opinion, I'm a fucked up mess.
*(translated into modern English--taking into account that I'm not an English major or a Shakespearan scholar--in fact my sum total of learning anything Shakespeare in 14 years of passing through New York state schools, and in 5 years of community and state college, is a total of one 1970's film of Romeo and Juilet in my 9th year, and 2 weeks of studying Hamlet in college back in 2004...so if I totally got this interrperation Hamlet's meaning wrong, sorry, I'm just a stupid American, what do I know from Shakespeare?):
As a lark, I posted a petition online, http://www.petitiononline.com/837860/petition.html
to ask David Tennant to stay on as the Doctor, for just one more year...just to see what sort of response it would get. That was about a week ago, and so far, fan repsonse from over the world has been...underwhelming.
My little joke petition has netted a total sum of...(drum roll please)....
....EIGHT signitures so far. Whoo-hoo! Way to go Whovians!
Poor David, well, you know, you are getting a bit past it. Once you've hit 955, all the companions these days want younger, hipper Time Lords..and you know how young fan girls today are...anyone over 37 is ancient, no matter how sexy his hair is.
Maybe it was those dirty trainers--smelly feet can be such a turn off in a Time Lord.
It has recently been discovered by scientific researchers that humans and kangaroos--animals which may have actually originated in China--share not only a common ancestor--but also, the exact same genes!
Scientists researching geomes in kangaroos, have to their surprise, discovered that the animals actually share some of the exact same traits as humans. Says one of the main researchers: "We thought they'd be completely scrambled, but they're not. There is great chunks of the human genome which is sitting right there in the kangaroo genome."
Apparently, though there are differences, where humans have more or less of one thing or another, essentially: a lot of the genes in kangaroos are not only EXACTLY the same as us, but, they occur in EXACTLY the same order, as well.
Scientists believe that this knowlege can open doors into seeing what we humans were like, 150 million years ago.
The Untied States Buerau of Land Management (BLM) had earmarked 2000 wild horses to be shot and slaughtered for meat, due to what it claims is overcrowded range conditions, being unable to support the horses, and competing with rancher's cattle grazing ranges on public lands.
But, the widow of American billionare, Boone T. Pickens, has said she would pay the federal governemt to allow her to adopt every last one of the wild horses.
Before a national grass roots movement by concerned adults and school children in the late 1950's and early 60's put a stop to it, cowboys and ranchers and meat packers were rounding up, shooting and slaughtering wild horses en masse, partly for the money they'd get from the meat, partly to "protect" public grazing lands and partly purely for what these "men" questionably called "sport".
Plus, Madeline Boone will also adopt--if allowed--the other 30,000 wild horses and burros, awaiting adoption in BLM holding pens across the nation. American citizens may adopt a wild horse or burro, for a small fee--but, must meet certain requirements, both before and after the adoption takes place. Unfortunately, the number of adoptions has dropped in recent years, due to the high upkeep of these animals--they are truly wild, and require extra care and handling to be domesticated enough to interact with humans, and trained for riding and/or driving.
I suppose I'm a bit of an old prude. I mean, I swear--but I HATE it, it's just a horrible habit I fell into, after working as the sole female staff at a muffler shop, back in the late 80's, where basically, continual foul language was the order of the day--I started and have yet to break the habit...much to my very real and deep regret.
I'm not saying no one should ever swear. But, swearing's a bit like sex---a little serves its purpose and has it's value...but, too much makes it pretty well meaningless.
I read books and watch films filled with swearing....and after a while, you tune it out, and it becomes utterly pointless. F_ck replacing other words, which would actually make the conversation a whole lot more interesting.
I mean, if I were to re-write a quote from a book for our modern intellectually challenged public, for instance, and insert swear words into it, it would look like this (here I am substituting feck for f_ck):
The first fecking thing, was never to fecking accept anything as fecking true that I did not fecking know to be so evidentally g_damed so: that is to fecking say, carefully to avoid shite like precipitancy and fecking predjudice, you fecking get what I mean?
True, to some of the mentally lazy out there, that might make Descartes' "Discourse 2" seem much more readable, but, would you appreciate the meaning more or less, by having a bunch of totally meaningless swear words hurled at you? I'm not saying I have an answer to that, mind you. It's just that the English language is so complex and interesting, it genuinely makes me despair, to see so many people abusing and ignoring it.
I also throughly dislike "text-speak," in everyday writing, as well.
What if Shakespeare wrote in text-speak?
What if we turned these lines:
"O! What a rouge and a peasant slave am I!
Is is not monsterous that this player here
But in a fiction, in a dream of passion,
That, from her working, all his vissage waned,
Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect,
A broken voice and his whole function suiting
With forms to his conceit?
To:
O! I M A SMF N AN ACORN!
4COL, ITS A BAMF, 4 ME
AFAICS, ITS AN AFJ, FUBAR
IMAO, I M A FUM
(I actually had to find an online text speak dictionary, to do this, by the way)
Flamey's flea allergy is back--probably from the cat next door, whom the neighbours let roam the hallways all the time, 'cos they claim he pees in the apartment...so often he's hanging around outise my apartment door...with my cats on the other side...reckon somehow the fleas may have hopped under the door or something, 'cos my cats haven't had fleas in around a year and a half...there were fleas in here when I moved in, and it took me months to rid the place of them--now thanks to my ne'er do well lazy redneck neighbours, I have them back again!
I combed a huge flea off of the top of Boots' head last night, and Flamey is beginning to lose her fur again (as seen below), poor wee girl. On top of that, she's been doing some projectile vomiting the last few days, and is off her food--tho' she seems to be drinking water, OK. I can't take her to the vet's, either--can't go to my own doctor, for that matter, as the other half of the utility bill is due on Friday--which is nearly 3/4 of my weekly pay packet, gone in one throw. I just have to keep my fingers crossed, and hope she hasn't gotten into anything that's poisoned her, or some bad cat food or something--Boots threw up the other night, as well, but otherwise seems clear-eyed and chipper...think his might have been merely a hairball, or eating his dry food too fast.
Anyway, I'm going to be hard pressed to buy the flea medication, don't think a trip to the vet is likely--we're talking roughly 50 to 100 dollars a throw--or more, even..not counting the cost of cab fare, which is around 15 dollars round trip. This expense, with my low income, is simply something I'm seldom likely to have to spend.
Poor Flamey. About all I can do is love her and cuddle her and try to make her feel better, emotionally...if nothing else, maybe it will calm her down--she freaks out when she has an upset tummy.
I just got an e-mail from one of my Whovian friends on another website, and she's all a flutter 'cos she's going to some party in Cardiff next April, in honour of David Tennant.
I guess they're sending him off with a bang, ey? Don't let the door slam you on the way out, Davey-boy, oh, and here's some booze to make the trip less painless....just kidding, sorry.
Apparently, the "Party for TEN-nant" will take place on Saturday, 18th April 2009 at The Marriot Hotel, Cardiff. The party is being organised by David Tennant fans. Will the illustrious celebrity from Scotland, the one, the only David Tennant, deign to make an appearence? Probably not, if he's got a lick of common sense, and doesn't want to be crushed by a mob of panting, screaming, fan-girl's, wetting themselves for a chance to touch their sex-god. Although, I will say, British fans are far more reserved than US fans would ever be...cultural differences.
Over here--if he was in a part of the country where fan-girls were, like Los Angles or New York City, he MIGHT get mobbed, but...not Glens Falls, obviously--he could get into his hoodie and sport that unshaved bum look of his, and as long as he didn't say anything, or wear any velvet smoking jackets that make him look gay (sorry), no one would ever know he wasn't a local...the chances of anyone asking him for his autograph would be minimal to none, in these parts, most likely. Probably not even the local press would notice. Oh, there's a few scattered Who fans around, but so far, I've yet to meet any DT fan-girls, in my neck o' the woods, as we Yanks say. I already have an autograph, and have never had--and probably never will--ANY sexual fantasies about DT, so you can count me in with the rest of the population, as well. Ha! Not that he's ever going to come to the southern Adirondacks...Scottish city boy in redneck land? Not likely.
DAVID TENNANT--SCOTTISH CITY BOY, MAJOR BRITISH CELEBRITY, TELEVISION SEX-GOD AND TRENDY LONDON METROSEXUAL:
Woke to a dusting of snow, this morning, a few scattered flakes of the white stuff, blowing in the air. Supposed to be like this for a while, I guess. Not that it's unusual or anything. A few fringes of white around the eaves of houses and corners of sidewalks? Bah, that's nothing.
What we need is a really good nor'easter, two or three feet of the white stuff, howling in at us from the general direction of the New England coastline and/or Canadian maritimes, and THEN it's winter, oh yes.
Yup, still got the cold, stage one over (sore throat), stage two on its way (nose like Niagara Falls). At least, 'cos I've already had it (well, I suppose I have TWO cold's now, 'cos I'm still a bit chesty from the last one), but since it's hit me once already, the second time is much, much milder..so, hopefully no worries about losing loads of pay, 'cos I have to stay in bed, like last month.
Oh, by the way, if anyone is sending packages for the holidays, via UPS or Fedex, there's a new e-mail scam on the internet, where you're sent an e-mail inviting you to track your package--DON'T respond! The only way to properly track your packages is through the official UPS and Fedex websites.
Have to go to the laundromat today. Wanted to go, yesterday, but didn't want to go outside with a sore throat, so am putting it off to a little later today. Have to take the bus, 'cos I don't want to shell out for a cab--and to buy some extras Sunday, to fight this cold, so it's left me a bit tapped in the old wallet. I've all of 15 dollars left, an it's $6 to $9 in cab fare, depending on which place I choose to go to (there's four I use). Takes a whole lot longer by bus (with their stinking only once an hour--maybe-- scedules), and I can't take as much stuff, for obvious reasons, but, I do save money that way. God, I really do miss having a car--how much easier my life was! But, on my kind of income, who can afford the petrol, car payments, inurance bills, tyres, oil changes, etc? And, don't talk to me about the cost of towing, if you break down. Me, afford a car? Not bloodly likely.
Well, I have to get my backsides in gear, and rustle up something for breakfast. Still have a bit of gammon steak left over from last night, might make myself some ham, eggs and potatoes for a decent breakfast, for a change. Then again, I may just settle for a bowl of honey-nut tastee-o's.
Shame about having to mod my comments. I get less comments now...which is fine. Comments are always lovely to have, but I'm not one of these that gets upset if I get none--I get 600 to 900 visitors a day, and--maybe--only two to five comments on this blog, sometimes no comments at all, so it's hardly a disappointment if the number of my coments drops.
Well, the half-arsed snowfall out there must mean it's cold, so I'll have to make sure I'm wearing a warm sweatshirt and a scarf when I go out, I reckon.
so here I am, just a short time before bedtime. Wrote a story, had my tea and biscuits, some juice, chilled to music from my past...30 or so years ago..my God, do you KNOW how old that makes me feel? Seems like only yesterday...where the heck has the time flown? Ah well, there's still some of that tree-hugging, poetry-reading, budding trancendentalist, horse crazy, teenage tom-boy in me here, somewhere.
I try real, real hard these days, not to dwell overmuch on my past--other than coming to grips, and making peace with, parts of my past that still remain unsettled in my mind. I try not to look into the future, either, but just live, day by day, hoping I get through one more day, without crisis or emotional pain. It's the best I can do all on my own, I'm afraid. I'm not exactly a "normal" person, afterall.
I pretty much grew up with my ear practically glued to the radio--god, I loved music--top 40, soft rock, disco, folk music, country--everything but heavy metal and some hard rock.
(punk, rap, europ-pop and alternative were pretty much still in the future, at that time)
A few years later, I would tune into jazz, blues and classical, --this began sometime in my early 20's, and, not relating to MTV and 80's pop tunes, I began to tune out pop, country and other forms of "popular" music on the radio...only listening in the car, mostly.
But then, the internet came along--or rather, my access to high-speed internet...now, I've got new music (well, to most of you, it's probably stuff you've been listening to for a while--but it's "new" to me)
Now, I listen again, tonight, to all the songs I loved as a teen and young adult, during a very exciting--and sometimes depressing--time of my life. Probably the last time of my life, when I truly had freedom to be, whomever I wanted to be, roaming the hills, fields and woods around my home, with my two dogs, Happy and Shamrock.
Listening tonight, I remember the places I was in, the feelings that I had, when I hear these songs--as much as they'd happened yesterday. It makes me want to reach right through the speakers, and go back there, back to just one moment in time, when a mere song playing on the radio, and made me so blissfully happy.
WHAT I'M LISTENING TO TONIGHT:
TITLE ARTIST
You can do magic---America
Every woman in the world---Air Supply
Who's Crying Now---journey
I don't want to live without you--foreigner
Maneater---Hall and Oates
Never gonna' let you go---sergio mendez
too much heaven----bee gess
Dreams---Fleetwood Mac
Baby come back---player
Look what you've done to me--boz scaggs
Your the only woman--ambrosia
Sailing---Christopher Cross
Waiting for a Girl Like You---Foreigner
Night Fever----bee gees
Even the Nights are better--air supply
Love me tomorrow---Chicago
Rhiannon--Fleetwood Mac
Don't stop believing---Journey
What a Fool Believes--Doobie Brothers
I can't tell you why---Eagles
Sara---Starship
Baby What a Big Surprise---Chicago
Desperado---Eagles
Africa---Toto
Private Eyes---Hall and Oates
Oh No---The Commodores
Steal Away---Robbie Duprie
Biggest Part of Me---Ambrosia
Do you Remember?====phil collins
How Deep is Your Love---bee gees
Nights are forever without you--england dan and john ford coely
True--spandau Ballet
Eye in the Sky---The alan parson's project
I won't hold you back---toto
All out of Love---air supply
I go crazy---paul davis
Best of my love---eagles
I Just wanna Stop---Gino Vanelli
I want to know what love is--foreigner
think of Laura--Christopher Cross
Making Love out of Nothing at all--air supply
Dust in the wind---kansas
Take the Long Way home---supertramp
Whew! That Who fic story I started in early June of this year, then left unfinished, because I felt I needed a semi-hiatus from Dr Who (realized I was getting a wee too obsessed, when I was up half the night crying, when David Tennant "regenerated" in episode 12)..so I stopped writing Dr Who fiction for about 4 months...took it up again this past week, and just--finally--finished Dark Holiday, tonight. Left off at chapter three, all those months ago, and did chapters 4 though 7 in the last three or four days. It's not a very good story, but I always hate to leave stories unfinished, so there's that stone from around my neck...
...I have one other that needs finishing--I got writer's block, massive writer's block, when in the middle of writing a story called, "Numbered Days," about a subjugated race of people on a distant planet, a segregated planet, where the working class are forced to live underground, only allowed to be known by numbers--facing death if they assume an actual name...and the elite class--who live in a sleek domed city, have names, and are in a constant struggle for power, money and possessions. Kind of an obvious story, I guess. But, there ya' go.
It's nice to be writing again, even if I am sick as a dog with this blasted never-ending cold, and probably making a million typos and spelling errors, as a result. But, writing does make the time fly for me. I start at 8pm, and the next I know, it's nearly 11pm. Which, my life being the way it is, is a genuine blessing, making the long winter nights, shorter. I put my "Christopher Cross" channel on Pandora Radio (sorry the UK can't get it, it's fab!), and, besides Cross, listened to air supply, phil collins, Fleetwood Mac, Chicago, Journey, the Doobie Brothers, Eagles...all the sounds I listened to, from my mid-teens to early 20's. It really does make the time fly, when you're alone.
My final word: Only oversexed chavs read and write Who porn--no REAL Whovian would ever sink that low---PLEASE don't "dumb down" Doctor Who!!! It deserves better than that!
Well, had a pleasant supper, my sore throat is finally better, I'm sitting here listening to the "Christopher Cross" station that I made up on my Pandora radio station--brilliant! All the great songs from my age 16 to 19 years--great years for music. I'm chillin'!
Well, really, I'm sitting here drinking some Hedley organic black tea and noshing on some more diabetic chocolate biscuits, and chilli', to be more exact.
I have to put the finishing touches on the living room, then I'm going to finish Dark Holiday tongight and get that stupid who-fic shelved and done with. Good riddence...it's a crap story...only one brief running scene and not a single explosion. What's Dr Who coming to? (Note: I couldn't resist the pull of an explosion, so I put one in at the very end of the story--only a little one, though)
It's half-past eight already. That's half-past one in the morning, for you Brits, so I don't reckon many of my British friends will be reading this, so I will with you all a good Tuesday...and to my North American pals...have a great rest of the evening.
Although, I will say, British fans are far more reserved than US fans would ever be...cultural differences. 
