Reverse the buttons on your mouse and put it on the left side of your computer. This will baffle everyone including lefties who, forced by a cruel world to adapt, use their mouse as if they were right-handed.
What I would like to see is a spy movie in which the hero gets through all the high-tech security only to find out that the villain is left-handed, and instead of being worried about the speed with which the Very Important Information can be downloaded, the suspense could be about the hero trying to figure out how to use the mouse in time to even GET to the downloading part.
Or maybe beforehand there could be a montage of the hero training by playing Minesweeper with a left-handed mouse. I can tell you from experience that it's surprisingly suspenseful.
This movie would be uproarious to 10-13% of the population. Any Hollywood producers who would like to option this blog post, please comment.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
Illustrative Moment of Workplace Priorities
Coworker passes cubicle carrying two paper plates of food in each hand. Calls out, "There's food in the HC Room!"
Three other coworkers instantly pass in the other direction, giggling.
Thirty seconds later I get an e-mail from another coworker, who is not even at her desk, alerting us all to the exciting news about free food.
Three other coworkers instantly pass in the other direction, giggling.
Thirty seconds later I get an e-mail from another coworker, who is not even at her desk, alerting us all to the exciting news about free food.
Friday, April 01, 2011
An excuse to talk about Beowulf!
It's pretty impressive that Anglo-Saxon poetry gets as much attention as it does, considering that only about 30,000 lines of it exist. (That sounds quite respectable until you compare it with ancient Greek poetry: The Iliad and the Odyssey together are about 27,000 lines, and there's a lot more besides.) It also has against it the fact that some of that poetry is really bad religious poetry. Some of it is nice, good, vibrant religious poetry, and some of it is complete drivel, the equivalent of unoriginal poetry about springtime. And last but not least, it is in a form that somehow managed not to evolve at all for like five hundred years, which makes it look like a loser in the literary scheme of things.
Oh, and it's alliterative, which Chaucer thought was lame.
Therefore, when someone who is not an academic shows interest in these poems, I am always surprised. And at first delighted. And then annoyed. Because the people who show interest are always poets, and they always manage to say rude things about the academics who did all the heavy lifting that makes it possible for anyone to translate anything at all. For example, there is a new book coming out called The Word Exchange, in which various current poets translate various Old English poems. I think it looks pretty awesome and someday when I have spare money I will almost certainly buy it. But, I did not appreciate what the editor had to say about the book:
"What's so great about this - all Anglo-Saxon poetry has been translated by scholars and academic people. It has generally been very accurate but not always great poetry. They couldn't get that kind of energy into it."
PARDON ME, SIR. This aggravates me in so many ways I need bullet points to address it.
Anyway, because so few people care at all about poetry, much less Anglo-Saxon translations, I really just wanted to point out that academics are probably a reasonably large part of the market for this book and it's probably unwise to give interviews in which you basically refer to them as cultural boors. The end.
Oh, and it's alliterative, which Chaucer thought was lame.
Therefore, when someone who is not an academic shows interest in these poems, I am always surprised. And at first delighted. And then annoyed. Because the people who show interest are always poets, and they always manage to say rude things about the academics who did all the heavy lifting that makes it possible for anyone to translate anything at all. For example, there is a new book coming out called The Word Exchange, in which various current poets translate various Old English poems. I think it looks pretty awesome and someday when I have spare money I will almost certainly buy it. But, I did not appreciate what the editor had to say about the book:
"What's so great about this - all Anglo-Saxon poetry has been translated by scholars and academic people. It has generally been very accurate but not always great poetry. They couldn't get that kind of energy into it."
PARDON ME, SIR. This aggravates me in so many ways I need bullet points to address it.
- It is not a new thing for poets to translate from the Anglo-Saxon. Ezra Pound did it in 1912. Seamus Heaney did it in 1999. A bunch of other people have done it in between. This has been going on fairly steadily for a hundred years.
- It is the express duty of scholars to be accurate. Scholars of Old English are necessarily also historians, and they all have their own interpretations of history, which affect their translations of the poem. They translate the poem to communicate a new interpretation. There is plenty of energy in it, but it's a kind that poets aren't built to recognize or particularly care about.
- It is the express duty of poets to be loosey-goosey, touchy-feely, and artsy-fartsy. If you want extreme violence (referring here to Beowulf) beautifully rendered, you go and read a translation by a poet. If you want extreme violence as expressed by the people who knew about it -- regardless of how they expressed it -- go for the scholar.
- The difference between the translations of poets and scholars is only in their approach. Poets are trying to create a version of the poem that will evoke the same feelings in their modern audience that the original version evoked in the Anglo-Saxon audience. They're interested in the experience of the poem, whereas scholars are interested in the Anglo-Saxons. They want to get as close to the original version as possible, because that's what moved the Anglo-Saxons. It isn't about how you are feeling, it's about how they were feeling, and what in the text made them feel it. If you can get there, you're closer to knowing who they were.
Anyway, because so few people care at all about poetry, much less Anglo-Saxon translations, I really just wanted to point out that academics are probably a reasonably large part of the market for this book and it's probably unwise to give interviews in which you basically refer to them as cultural boors. The end.
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