Lesson learned from a long weekend

Truck stop meat pies.

Just say no.

Baby this town rips the bones from your back... ooo, three ply!

So I'm in the supermarket, making my way between 'personal items' and 'dog food', when I become aware of the music playing over the PA - the racing drums and uptempo riff that is the opening to Born to Run.

(For those who lack a classical education, here it is)


This song was a revelation to me in the 70s, and has happily tracked along with me over the years, even if I relate more to the more wistful 'reflective of a youth now behind me' version these days (as, I suspect, does Bruce):


Anyway, back in the dog food aisle, it suddenly dawned on me that the greatest "1, 2, 3, 4!" count-in in rock history (3:00 in the first YouTube clip) is now deemed suitable for background supermarket music.

Gawd, I feel old.

Note added: even Bruce is taking the piss out of this song now. Coles: all is forgiven.

One glass of pineapple flavoured air please

Warning: bizarre rant (and first world problem) follows

There's an alarming trend in cafes - especially more expensive ones - to serve juices 'frothed'. In Sydney last week I ordered a glass of pineapple juice, at a cost of $4. When it turned up, not only was it about one third ice, the juice had been blended/whisked/whateverthehelltheydowithit within an inch of its life. I reckon I got about a tablespoon of pineapple juice in total.

If people like that, fine. But can I at least ask for some truth in advertising? Rather than

Pineapple Juice                                   $4

on the menu, how about something more accurate, such as

Pineapple burp (with ice)                    $4, sucker

Good joke, poor history

I just finished reading Hitler's Scientists. It's not a bad book, although it can't really decide whether it's a collection of biographies, a history, a prosecution brief or a reflection on the sociology and philosophy of science . In truth it's a bit of each.

Most of it is engaging enough, and the author (John Cornwell) clearly did a ton of research. And he also clearly has strong views. That's fine, unless it gets in the way of accuracy. Unfortunately, once or twice that seems to be the case. It's the prosecution brief I have most trouble with; the author is obviously convinced that Wernher von Braun and Werner Heisenberg were firmly in the Nazi camp during WWII, despite both having received at least partial exoneration after the event. And he might be right. He makes a reasonable case for Heisenberg, not least of which from the transcripts from post-war conversations at Farm Hall in England.

But the case against von Braun depends (in part) on an interpretation of the Himmler's motives for arresting him in March 1944. After a chapter full of carefully footnoted observations and explanations, it's surprising to have it end abruptly (and with an implied triumphant exclamation mark) like this:

[The arrest] bolstered his image as a scientist who had doggedly maintained a non-political stance and who was even credited with having been persecuted by the SS. The truth of the matter was that Himmler had perpetrated the allegation in order to take over the [V2] project.

No footnote. Odd, because that's a very important claim. Instead, the next chapter switches tack entirely, as if we're supposed to think 'well, thats von Braun wrapped up'. But we aren't quite finished with him. Later on, we find this anecdote:

A token of a refusal to forget occurred on the eve of the Apollo moon-shot, when von Braun strode out of a press conference on being asked by a journalist whether he could guarantee that the rocket would not land on London.

That's a funny story, albeit with dark undertones. But it seemed a bit pat and it didn't quite ring true to me. So I went looking for the source, figuring that a NASA press conference on the Apollo program was likely to be well documented. I found out that the Q&A story is a bit of an urban folktale. As near as I can tell, the quip about London actually belongs to comedian Mort Sahl, who commented that von Braun's autobiography 'I aim for the stars' should be subtitled 'but sometimes I hit London'.

I also found this in an archive of Life magazine:

There was one tale every reporter had heard. "Tell me, Dr. von Braun" a correspondent is reported to have said, "what is there to keep a Saturn V from landing on London"? Von Braun was reported to have walked out of the room. But the story was doubtless apocryphal; it smacked of reporters' bile. (LIFE Aug 29, 1969).

Don't get me wrong - von Braun's undoubted involvement with slave labour is more than enough to cast a shadow over the man and (alas) over the Apollo program he later led. But I like my history to be rigorous, and when I find undocumented major claims and urban myths paraded as fact, I'll wait for something more definitive.
 


Footnote: Erwin Schrödinger is the inspiration for Professor Frink. You know I'm right.

Separated at birth? 

It's a trap!

There's a minor meme out there about the difficulty Germans have saying the word 'squirrel'. Here's an especially annoying example.

I have a German colleague, and a photo of a squirrel on my iPad (one of about 100 my wife and I saw in Central Park - each one of which was greeted with a shout of 'Squirrel!!" from me, to looks from passers-by that ranged from amused through puzzled to alarmed and accompanied by an increasingly exasperated look from my wife, but I digress... ).

So I decided to try it out. Not only did he not have too much trouble saying it, he returned the favour and asked me to pronounce the German word for squirrel.

Follow the link. Listen to the pronounciation. Try it. Try it again. Try it a thousand times - it won't make any freaking difference.

Admiral Ackbar was right.

Isn't nature wonderful?

I found these on my morning dog walk today:

What a brilliant idea, I thought. These leaves would be really well camouflaged in a forest... oh, wait.

'Green on blue' is so 2012

It's the time of the year when the media is full of stories about cats raising puppies, retrospectives of 2012 and - worst of all - dictionary publishers getting their annual fifteen minutes of fame with their 'word of the year'.

This year saw a couple of the worst choices ever. Not because they are bad words, but because they aren't freaking words at all. The Australian National Dictionary Centre* (yes, there is such a thing - who knew?) chose 'green on blue' as their word of the year. While the Oxford American Dictionary went with 'GIF'.

Wait, what? Are we to understand that dictionary compilers can't tell the difference between a word (noun: a single distinct meaningful element of speech or writing, used with others (or sometimes alone) to form a sentence) a phrase (noun: a small group of words (see previous) standing together as a conceptual unit, typically forming a component of a clause) or even an acronym (noun: a word formed from the initial letters of other words)?

If I wanted to get all meta on their arses (as well as making a cool pop culture reference) I'd say 'I do not think that the word 'word' means what they think it means'. But I shall rise above that. Instead, here's a list of perfectly good existing English words that I think need more exposure. One of my New Year resolutions is to use all of them in my professional writing this year. They are:

misbegotten

insouciant

ne'er-do-well

shenanigans

woebegone

I think we'd all be richer for hearing those more often. Spread the word - but not the phrase or the acronym.



*Spelling finally corrected. Good eye Duffman.