a wolf angel is not a good angel

I saw a trailer for National Treasure today.

Oh, Dan Brown, look what you have brought us to.

Or, perhaps, all those words for snow.

You knew it had to happen. Somewhere, in the 47 zillion conversations about the Pirahã and their lack of counting systems etc, came out the “Eskimos have lots of words for snow! Imagine their ethnographic studies of us!”

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I’m suspicious of these results, still, though I read the paper by Everett. The kinship system mentioned also makes me curious: if people can marry someone who shares a single parent, which one is it? Can I marry my mother’s son, or my father’s? I’d be surprised if it was the former, and, if it was the latter, I wonder how much of that is a polite fiction, especially given the part earlier in this paper where they explain how men sometimes lend out (as it were) their wives & daughters for whiskey.

It’s past 3:30 in the morning. And I’m fucking awake. I used to never have all this trouble sleeping. Damn.

I’m feeling guilty again. I love Sam. He is a darling kitty, and sweet, when he bothers to be friendly to me and not, say, everyone else in the house. But I — and I have such trouble admitting this, though it is so blindingly obvious there’s perhaps no point — think I prefer Matilda. I got her first, and then she had that thing where she almost died and since then she’s been sleeping on my bed . . .

It’s a good thing I don’t have kids. I’m not sure how I could explain that I prefer the cat to them.

Dorothea comments on the joys of catching language in the wild (and, sometimes, the attendant humiliations when you are overheard).

I’m not a huge Chomskyan (something I’ve intended to talk about for a while; my grad school was very MIT syntax, but turned out a lot of other linguists who ended up despising Chomskyan syntax, even if — like me — they started out into that sort of thing. I don’t actually despise it; I think it has more going for it than the detractors claim, but a lot of problems that aren’t admitted to all that often). Still, I’ve got friends who are (all of whom love the “neat fact!” part of linguistics — of all the Chomskyan linguists I know, I know exactly one who isn’t into neat facts), and I’ve heard talks from people who are, and I’ve never heard non-prescriptivists whine about that kind of use of the possessive.

Actually, I heard one talk — a terrible, terrible talk, with atrocious work — try to explain different uses of the -s morpheme and where it can or can’t happen or cooccur . . . I forget the details, thankfully, but no one had any issues with these sorts of constructions (except for the occasional ambiguity).

There are lots of reasonable complaints about Chomskyan syntax, but it’s rather unfair to turn them into (usually false) generalisations about the syntacticians who do that sort of work.

Tomorrow I think I will email to ask a few questions about this program, since I suddenly worried that I would end up paying late fees if I was only supposed to register (and, therefore, pay) once classes had started. No thank you. (Though I have the letter that tells me not to register yet.)

I also am trying to figure out cell phones. Canada has the worst cell phone plans anywhere. At least, they’re worse than the US, Asia or Europe: they may well be better than Africa or South America. My parents use Bell, and I can join on their family plan without too much hassle. Except for getting a phone. Phones are like 150$, and there’s no way I’m locking myself into a several year contract with Bell to get a cheaper one. So we have (a) my father’s old phone, which sort of worked, but might have worked perfectly and just he couldn’t hear well with it or (b) a friend’s old phone, if she can find it or (c) ebay. Obviously the first two are far preferable, being free, but I’m not sure if they charge you to change phones with the same service. Knowing Bell: yes.

I am interested in finally getting a cell phone, but I cannot believe how thoroughly plans here suck. Particularly Bell plans. I hope the cell number portability happens here, too, so we can then switch en masse to a plan that sucks less (ie, any other plan) once my parents are off their contract.

My version of a list, apparently. God I’m wordy.

Every now and then, Matilda spends the entire night outside. I’ve gotten to accepting this, but I would love to figure out where she sleeps when she does this, because she inevitably gets back all covered in dirt and twigs, which of course means that my bed gets all covered in dirt and twigs.

Such a funny little cat. She sleeps on my bed all day. Sometimes, if I’m upstairs watching TV, she’ll come and sleep on the couch until I go back to my room. Sometimes, if I’m not home, and my mother’s on the computer, she’ll stay in the computer room until my mother leaves the room. In general, though, she leaves the room if no one is in it. Which means that when I leave to go pee, I do it really fast.

The Purple Cow

I never saw a purple cow,
I never hope to see one;
But I can tell you, anyhow,
I’d rather see than be one.

The Purple Cow: Suite

Ah, Yes! I Wrote the “Purple Cow” –
I’m Sorry, now, I Wrote it!
But I can Tell you Anyhow,
I’ll Kill you if you Quote it!

Gelett Burgess

I saw another Hummer limo today. Those are, without doubt, the ugliest cars ever to befoul the planet.

There is not now nor will there ever be a time when matching your hubcaps to the color of your car is acceptable.