A Tar Baby, Indeed.

by Cosmo

31 July 2006

Massachusetts governor and prospective presidential candidate Mitt Romney found himself in something of a sticky situation over the weekend. The Republican, while speaking to a room full of supporters at an Iowa fundraiser, used the phrase “tar baby” in describing the massively over-budget and under-standard Central Artery Tunnel project. Romney isn’t the first high-level official to get snared like this; in May, White House press secretary Tony Snow used the same, apparently offensive term in when he declined to comment on the NSA’s call records database.

Continue...

Generally...

by Jon Shea

16 December 2005

When I use the phrase “generally”, or “in general” I use it like math professors do. It means “in the general case”, or “when you consider the exceptions too”. It has the same feeling as “always”.

Consider:

Generally, the commutative property of addition doesn’t hold on computers because of rounding error.

The commutative property holds most of the time on computers (you’ve probably never noticed an exception), but it doesn’t hold in general.

When most people use the phrase “generally” they mean “usually”.

Consider:

Generally, I don’t like shellfish, but that lobster looks so delicious.

“Usually” and “always” are very different words, with (in general) very different meanings.

Consider:

Generally,” Mr. Mueller said, “I would say generally, [the National Security Agency is] not allowed to spy or to gather information on American citizens.”

esquivalience

by Jon Shea

29 August 2005

n. the willful avoidance of one’s official responsibilities… late 19th cent.: perhaps from French esquiver, “dodge, slink away.”
[Link]

Average Reporting

by Tom Temple

29 July 2005

First, peruse this.

I bet you thought you knew what the word “average” meant. I did too. I guess not.

What is the average fuel economy for an American car? Easy—how many miles driven over how many gallons used. You could find all the cars in the country and ask what their mileage is individually and then average that, but that isn’t what we want. Some cars are driven more than others. We could weight that by the ammount of time that those cars are driven but then you aren’t accounting for speed.

So what about the average fuel economy for a single automaker? Easy—number of miles driven over number of gallons used for their cars. You could even filter it again for model year.

...American fuel regulations, which are taken as an average over a company’s entire fleet…

Somebody tell me that they don’t take the 8 different cars that the company makes, add up the milages and divide by 8. At the very least, they should go by the total number of cars manufactured; I don’t think going by number sold would be any harder. But come on, I don’t think calculating the thing properly would take that intense of a survey.

But what if some maker only wanted to make a truck, one truck and nothing else? Why should they be prohibited from doing so? Let’s make the rules factor in the type of car. Would that be too complicated?

Yeah, that’s too much regulation… get the Government off my back!

(7 different colored pintos + 1 Armada)/8 lt threshold
implies no fine

Shall not have died in vain

by Tom Temple

7 July 2005

Seeing as how I recently admitted opposing the civil war and soon after quoted the Gettysburg address, I’ve been thinking about a strangely provocative turn of phrase, “died in vain.”

The first place that I see it is in the first version of the ten commandments in Exodus. In the second round blasphemy didn’t quite make the top ten. I can’t handle greek or hebrew but in latin it is “in vanum”, which I’m told means, “to no effect, or fruitlessly”. But I’m guessing same idea as “vacant” and “vapid” which imply more of a “hollow” sort of idea. Since most of you guys know latin and I don’t, you tell me. But the word also carries the idea of “irrelevance”. [1]

1 Then there is the other use of “vain” to mean “”concieted”, but I don’t think that is relevant here. If I could read Hebrew I could tell you, though.

It seems to me that at least in some sense, pretty much everybody who dies, war or not, dies “in vain” or at least very nearly. Let’s say someone gets blown up by a roadside bomb. What did their death acheive? It made the BGs use some explosives, maybe they gave up some tactical info and it’s conceivable that they lost some “hearts and minds” ground. Any way you slice that, it’s pretty much always going to be a loss for the GGs.

Even the movie-style heros, diving on grenades or pulling the fuel rods by hand and the like, whose deaths really do acheive something real, it tends to be a limit-our-losses thing. It was still a loss.

The soldiers who don’t die, on the other hand, can do all kinds of soldier stuff (not to mention ordinary people stuff) and chalk up all kinds of wins. I would say that none are “living in vain”. I’m just saying that when somebody dies, the death tends not to be that fruitful, in an individual sense.

For example, it’s nice to say that Private Smith died “defending freedom” or some such thing and that his death was “not in vain”. And such epitaphs are not entirely dishonest. But there needs to be a more honest clarification. You could also say that Private Smith died because of inadequate gear or intelligence or tactical control. Then the painful fact becomes obvious that the GGs lost a point on that particular play.

The way I would say it would be that Private Smith died because he got unlucky. It’s a win-some-lose-some game. “These were the odds as we understood them. We just got unlucky.” That is all we have to go on and all the consolation I can offer.

Now do you see why I might be upset if I thought that the odds are being divined poorly?

Soundbites

by Tom Temple

30 June 2005

I was reading transcripts of presidential speeches and comparing usage. I think you can probably blame the TV for the degradation. In text, people are willing to sort through a field of commas since you can always re-read. On screen, it’s got to be a bit clearer.

I am sort of dissappointed with Bush. I know his speechwriters have tried to step his speeches up a little. Remember the attempts at imagery in the inaguaration? But when he can’t use fancy words or non-trivial constructions, he just can’t make a memorable speech. Part of the problem is that it needs to be a string of soundbites and convenient quotations. Part of the problem is that he is not a good speaker. I think a lot of the problem is that he wants to keep a common-man appeal.

I was doing word counts on transcripts and Bush with 17.3 words per sentence pretty only uses commas for lists. The Gettysburg Address is 26.8 words per sentence. Kennedy’s could pull an impressive 26.2. I was comparing Kerry and Bush in the debate transcripts but I got upset and had to stop. (WCing this page, Cosmo can also throw down in the 26s while I have a pitiful 16.)

I was just thinking that, in light of the soundbites, I would go for longer sentences rather than shorter. Then my soundbites would carry a little more context around with them.
Consider the sentence:

It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they here gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain; that this nation shall have a new birth of freedom; and that this government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

Bush would have made that bugger into 5 sentences and the soundbite would have just been the last one. “This government… shall not perish from the Earth”. And the meaning would have come accross differently.

But lets say the evening news wants to run the “shall not perish from the Earth.” bit, from Abe’s version. They could start at “this government” just like George but I think the journalists would hesitate at the change—it’s missing the main verb, “resolve”. They could start the soundbite at “we here highly resolve” and hope to get away with it.

But the astute reader/listener would notice a lack of parallel structure1 when the “that” comes around, betraying that “we” isn’t actually the start of the sentence. The “that” refers to the “great task” that is the object of the real sentence. To get that, they would have to start at the beginning. So if they wanted a complete soundbite including the money shot “shall not perish” they would have to include that whole thing.

1 Actually, I’m wrong about that “that.” If it refers to resolve, that would make a soundbite starting at “we” perfectly legal. I would call this guy a run-on.

But then you have it starting with “rather.” Rather than what? Maybe they should just quote the whole thing.

If Cosmo were my speechwriter, I would have him make it notoriously difficult to make soundbites. “If they want to quote me,” I’d tell him, “it should be at least a paragraph—ideally several.” “Oh and use a lot of em-dashes rather than ellipsis and semicolons. Ellipsis break my rythm and semicolons intimidate me.” “No, I don’t have a problem with commas as long as there aren’t too many—I just don’t want to get lost and put the wrong emphasis on a clause.” “I don’t care what ‘looks professional’—I mean, you could use curly braces if you want, it’s not like anybody is going to be reading it besides me.”

What I've Got

by Tom Temple

26 May 2005

There is some peculiar usage in English with respect to (WRT) health issues. When your body is infected by a parisite you might say “I have crabs.” That usage seems completely natural. Then the verb, “to have,” is extended to conditions also. “I have laryngitis” or “I have athlete’s foot.” or even “I have a pain in my knee” This seems like a natural extention of the previous case. Considering the fact that “I have a problem” is standard usage and “A problem presents itself to me.” is an akward conjugation, I think we should stick with it. I can’t think of anything better.

But this is rapidly starts breaking down when we start describing less binary conditions. While you could have a case of variable severity, you either have crabs or you don’t. But consider, “I have high blood pressure.” Ordinarily, that would mean that my blood pressure is abnormally high right? But since we use “have” with conditions, that sentence carries with it a lot of baggage. That baggage is potentially very snaggy in some situations. It makes “high blood pressure” into a medical condition. I very much preffer “My blood pressure is high.” But come on, higher than what? How about “My blood pressure is typically %110 of normal.”

Still don’t see the problem? How about syndromes? We use the same language to describe the having the flu as having a syndrome. It gives a syndrome—just collection of symptoms (“symptom” is even to strong of a word)—a realness as something that you can physically have. I don’t think the problem here is with syndromes themselves or the science surrounding them. I think it is great that people are documenting the sort of states that are correlated under certain circumstances. I think the real problem here is simply language usage. How’s about this for a start “I exhibit uncredible witness syndrome.” Or “My state is largely consistent with uncredible witness syndrome.”

Now we are getting close to the truth of the matter. We know very little about mental health or about any relationship that goes through the brain. We’ve got a vague feel for what goes on where and a few regulatory chemicals and a tiny bit about how neurons work but that’s really all. So we document all we can and give things helpful names. The crucial mistake is pretending that we understand it because we can refer to it by name (personally, I blame Aristotle). For instance, when someone has some sort of mental problem, i.e. they exhibit unwanted mental abnormalities, what happens is they try a lot of different drugs. If a drug has a positive affect on the abnormality, they now know what the problem is. It is the problem that that drug treats! I know someone who is often abnormally paranoid and depressed. She has been called many things (among them schitsophrenic) solely because she responded to certain medications.

But this isn’t very diagnostic. Consider the fact that everyone responds pretty well to cocaine for instance. The doctors have realized this since so many diverse things are being treated with practically unabashed amphetimines. Amphetimines are perhaps going to be a recurring theme here.

Let me get back to the thread from which I’ve strayed. Let’s not pretend we understand what is going on. To that end, let’s use language that is more acurate. Rather than saying “The boy has ADHD” perhaps we should say that “The boy responds well to amphetimines.” But doesn’t pretty much everyone respond well to amphetimines? Well, yes, they pretty much do.

1 As an aside, the only worse verb that is worse than “to have” is “to be.” It is too broad a usage. “Tom is crazy.” “That girl is overweight.” “That whore is HIV positive” (I always say “has HIV” seeing how it is a virus that you carry around). I remember in Spanish class learning about whether to use ser or estar with gordo(fat). I thought it was kind of neat that Spanish with less than half of the verbs of English would have two words for “to be” one describing atributes like “I am American”(ser) and another to describe conditions “I am hungry” (estar). It turns out that you can use either for fatness. Using Google hits to see which is more popular tells that it depends on conjugation and gender. Of course, context matters too. Teammates seeing Ulrich in the spring surely would say “Jan Esta gordo!” while if asked about Cosmo’s girth, I would say “Cosmo es gordo!” For loco (crazy) with regard to people, again you can use either but estar dominates usage.

Insurgents 2

by Jon Shea

16 May 2005

Slate’s Christopher Hitchens is dead on:

In my ears, “insurgent” is a bit like “rebel” or even “revolutionary.” There’s nothing axiomatically pejorative about it, and some passages of history have made it a term of honor. At a minimum, though, it must mean “rising up.” These fascists and hirelings are not rising up, they are stamping back down. It’s time for respectable outlets to drop the word, to call things by their right names (Baathist or Bin Ladenist or jihadist would all do in this case), and to stop inventing mysteries where none exist.

I couldn’t didn’t say it better myself.

When the Iraqi insurgents were mostly attacking US troops I was ok with the term. Some Iraqis might legitimately see the US forces as unwelcome invaders, and try to fight back. That’s lamentable, but not beyond reason.

Now the Iraqi terrorists mostly attack their countrymen. Despicable. The people of Iraq have the great privilege and responsibility of founding a new nation. For hose who would deprive them of this opportunity with bombs, kidnappings, and assassinations, even terrorist is too good a word.

I think you meant "ratio"

by Tom Temple

16 May 2005

I’ve got a question about the “savings rate.” The radio had some people complaining that Americans don’t save enough which seems understandable. Then they say that people in other countries save much more than we do. Then when they go to quantify it instead of saying something like average (or distribution of) personal savings they say that the American “saving(s) rate” is near zero while in China it is %40.

I don’t get it. By a simple conservation of money principle, shouldn’t the “savings rate” be zero pretty much no matter what?

After being soundly confused for longer than I would like to admit, I figure it must be something like “Money saved” divided by “All money.” Which is what I find it is when I get home and Google it. But I am still not entirely sure what it does and doesn’t include.

Remember always to define your terms. I don’t have much of a problem with notation abuse as long as it is documented.

Insurgent

by Jon Shea

14 April 2005

in-sur-gent from the Latin in + surgo, surgere. In usually means in or on to, though it is possible that in this case it is simply an intensifier. surgo, surgere means to rise, or to rush. I recall it describing the sea, and attacks in battle. Sometimes both at the same time. Surge is an obvious derivative.

Insurgent, in English, uniformly refers to opposing an established authority, and it has a strong feeling of violence. It seems to be the word of choice for describing the people in Iraq who do all the bad stuff.

If you consider yourself conservative, then you should just come out and call them all terrorists. That’s what they are. Name any tactical objective they achieve other than fear. Besides, this is the War Against Terror, not the War Against Insurgence.

US fears Iran buying military items for terrorists in Iraq
Chicago Sun-Times – Mar 16, 2005

Pakistani embassy worker grabbed by Iraq terrorists
Philadelphia Daily News, PA – Apr 11, 2005

If you self identify as liberal, then you should consider something like “freedom fighters” or maybe “revolutionary”. Either has a nice Che kind of ring to it. If you worry about the slant those words have, but don’t want to lose your liberal credentials, you could try “opposition party”.

Q&A: Change in Tactics for Iraqi Freedom Fighters?
New York Times – Apr 12, 2005

Profile of an Iraqi Revolutionary
National Public Radio – Mar 31, 2005

I vow that I will eschew euphemism in naming. I will endeavor to provide honest, accurate descriptors. Even when it goes against the grain of conventional usage. Even when it weakens my stance.

The question remains: What do we call the blank in Iraq?

Third Person Neuter

by Cosmo

8 March 2005

One of the more demanding English profs I had in college liked to point out this common grammatical error:

“Everyone must bring their book to class tomorrow.”

If you are scratching your head in confusion as to what could possibly be wrong with this, you are not alone (and, as far as I am concerned, not incorrect). Since Modern English is a redheaded bastard child of linguistic history, it’s lacking the logical perfection more consciously-constructed langauges (like say, Italian and Spanish) had built into them by fascist dictatorships in the 1930s. Technically, English has no third person neuter possesive pronoun other than “its” (with no apostrophe – another case of much grammatical contention).

“Everyone must bring his or her book to class tomorrow.”

I say FUCK THAT. English, like every other language, evolves over time. You know that second person pronoun “thou?” It’s like a really formal version of “you” (singular), right? ENNNNNH! “Thou” was actually the familiar form way back in the fucking day. But peole much preferred “you” and so it died out everywhere EXCEPT highly conservative pieces of writing, such as the Bible, and legal prose (where it was/is almost never used, because it’s the familiar form). So people have come to associate it with formality and reverence, when in fact was the 16th century way of saying “homey.” Yeah. seriously.

So why, in this ultra-gender-sensitive, postfeminist era where “man” no longer means “person” in polite society, and even Ivy League classics majors are using the utterly incorrect faux-Latinsm “Alumni/ae” to refer to Alumni of both sexes, are our schoolchildren bound to the bulky, counterintuitive “his or her” when “their” is a simple and readily understood substitue? The same problem exists with object pronouns (Contrast “This belongs to someone. Will you give it to him or her?” to “This belongs to someone. Will you give it to them?”), and still our hands are tied.

Well, I say no more. Unlike the useful “Y’all,” that second person plurial pariah of a pronoun (officially, the form is “you,” up until 1900-something, it was “ye”), “them/their” as a non-gender-specific third singular pronoun has been absorbed into the vernacular at even the most blueblooded of Northeastern Learning Institutions. Why balk at fulfilling our twofold desire for a more logical and more gender neutral langauge with a single insertion? From now on, I intend, in any scholarly, widely published or highly visible piece of writing I create, to employ this “incorrect” usage as frequenlty as possible. I suggest you (plural) do the same. If you fear the wrath of scholars who trust Bennett’s 1822 Grammar over their own hairy ears, simply annotate it. They will be impressed both by your self-awareness and your audacity.

And if one these stodgy old poots disagrees, tell them to go to hell.

Catullus 79

by Cosmo

24 February 2005

Lesbius est pulcer. quid ni? quem Lesbia malit
quam te cum tota gente, Catulle, tua.
sed tamen hic pulcer vendat cum gente Catullum,
si tria natorum suavia reppererit.

Lesbius is pretty. Why Not? Lebsia prefers him
More than you with that whole family, Catullus, of yours.
But however, let this pretty man sell Catullus with his family
If he can find three kisses of well-born men.

Top is the latin, below it, about as literal a translation as can be done. But don’t let 79 fool you. It’s one of the most interesting poems in the corpus.

For those who do not know Catullus, he is most famous for his seemingly endless series of poems about a woman known only as Lesbia. In a cycle repeated and plagaraized countless times since, he watches her from afar, falls madly in love with her, is betrayed, grows bitter, cynical and miserable, and, depending on how you read the organization of the poems in the manuscript, may or may not eventually make his peace with her.

79 is curious because many hold that it reveals the identity of Lesbia. “Lesbius,” under the rules of Roman nomenclature, would be Lesbia’s brother. Pulcher means “pretty” in the girly sense, but was also the cognomen of one branch of a notable roman family, the Clodii. A certain member of this branch, M. Clodius Pulcher was a famous politician and a contemporary of Catullus’.

Rumors about Pulcher’s sex life abound. Though a love affair with his middle sister, Clodia (known to history as Clodia Metelli, which would later become her married name), is hinted at repeatedly, what everyone seems to agree on is that Pulcher was not particularly concerned with the gender of his bedmates. Now, in Roman times, it was common for men (even straight men) to greet each other with kisses, a Euro-style peck-on-one-cheek-then-the-other kinda thing. But if one reads enough Martial, it becomes clear that bad breath (or an otherwise unsavory mouth) was an inevitable result of engaging in a certain sexual practice.

Thus, Catullus strikes a masterful blow in 79, unveiling his trecherous ex’s identity, revealing her incestuous trysts, and reiterating her paramour’s unusual taste for sexual encounters. Fortunately for him moral character was largely a non-issue for politicians in Ancient Rome.

Lesbius is a Fairchild, sure,
Whom Lesbia would take before
You, Catullus, even when
She knows the riches of your kin.
But let that dandy Fairchild sell
Catullus and his kin as well
If he knows three men of taste and wealth
Who’ll accept just one kiss from his mouth.