Thursday June 25th 2009, 9:09 am
Filed under: Power of Words
You say potato; I say pimiento. Close? Right? Wrong. As an instructor of first-year college writing, I’m used to this kind of mistake. We’ve come to blame the “Whole Language” fad that somehow is ubiquitous in the lower grades. It’s likely ubiquitous becuase it’s easy. Rather than force students to read the right word, it asks them to guess. Look at the beginning, look at the end, look at the totality of the word in its environment rather than it’s phonetic parts. To be fair, some of the holistic theory behind whole language makes sense, and I’m sure that well-schooled practioners (likely educated in something other than whole language) can pull it off with admirable results. However, the results I tend to see are much more line with the following example.
In a story today (June 25) on ESPN’s website, a sidebar declares
Shaquille O’Neal’s first full year with the Phoenix Suns, in which the team won nine fewer games, was an abomination when looking at his history with new teams.
Wow, I knew the Shaq reign in Phoenix wasn’t going exactly according to plan, but “abomination”? That seems a bit strong. M-W.com suggests that an abomination is something that is abominable. Thanks. Further digging reveals that it is something that ” worthy of or causing disgust or hatred “. Now, it may be true that fans of the Phoenix Suns find Shaq’s performance worthy of disgust, but, putting on another whole language hat, the context of the sentence suggests that perhaps the author had another word in mind.
I’d suggest that the writer really meant that Shaq’s performance in Phoenix was an “aberation.” That is something that is “deviating from the usual or natural type.” Why do I say this? Because the sentence–and the accompanying data chart–refer to Shaq’s performance differing significantly from his performance with other teams: that Shaq’s Phoenix performance is different from his performance on other teams.
Yes, “abomination” and “aberration” begin with “ab” and end with “ation.” That much is true. What our muddled writer and editors seem to miss is that there’s a big difference between “omin” and “erra”. Just as there’s a big difference between “ota” and “imien.” In this last case, it’s the difference between a large, starchy root that can be made into a lovely mound of creamy comfort and a large, red pepper that we like to enjoy stuffed into olives. In the author’s case, “omin” suggests that the entirety of Shaq is vile and worthy of scorn while “erra” connotes the idea that Shaq just had a bad season.
For the sake of the Cleveland Cavaliers, let’s hope that I’m not making an “omin” “erra” in calling out this poor choice of words.
College friend Len Peralta has a wonderful service called MonsterByMail. You give him the name of a monster, and he’ll create a 4×6 original piece of art for you. This summer’s theme is Super Villains.
Our friend Laura is battling cancer and named her three largest tumors Fred, Ed, Earl. I sent the names to Len, and here’s the art he created for Laura. She says she’ll use it in her visualization exercises which help her during chemo to focus on defeating the baddies.
I’ve heard TAL stories off and on since their inception, and I’ve always been intrigued with the radio feature story format. No one does it better than Ira & company, and Maddux’s top seven are certainly gems. I started trying to make a list of my faves, but gave up. It might be easier to list the episodes that didn’t tickle my fancy.
Thursday May 14th 2009, 12:09 pm
Filed under: Humor, Life
Was quite disconcerted to see this “enticement” this morning. You’d think that since FB knows we’re married (after all I did receive an announcement from FB that I was, in fact, married to Sherry, and if FB says it’s so, it must be so!) they’d possibly avoid pairing us up in such ads. Unless, of course, they were trying to drive more traffic should such an ad lead to a “complicated” relationship status. But big, nasty, faceless corporations wouldn’t be interested in manipulating little, ol’ me to use more of their product, even if the use was because of damage done to myself. No. They wouldn’t. I’m sure.
In any case, I’m no more inclined to take the silly quiz after seeing this ad. Though, I’m not above taking silly quizzes in general.
Friday May 08th 2009, 12:05 pm
Filed under: Film Journal
Here there be spoilers
In Star Trek, J.J. Abrams has sliced through a galaxy-sized pop-culture gordian knot not with the frenzied hacking of a desperate man but with the grace of a samurai. Ok, that’s probably overstating things, but it is nonetheless true that Abrams re-booting of the Star Trek franchise provides a solid foundation for future iterations.
I need not rehash the myriad complaints that Star Trek, in telling the story of the continuing adventures of humanity seeking new worlds and new civilizations, had become hide-bound, clunky, and entrenched. In a short documentary enclosed with the recent Star Trek: Alternate Realities collection, a writer from one of the recent series discussed the creative challenges caused by the insistence of the producers and the fans that each new story fit in with the Star Trek Universe. With over 700 tv episodes, ten films and numerous novels, the vast amount of continuity points tied the hands of anyone wanting to tell a new story.
So the new Star Trek does something that boldly tosses aside the received history while at the same time honoring and adhering to it. In a nifty judo move, Abrams takes one of Star Trek’s time honored plot devices—a plot device employed twice in the very first season of the original series—and uses it to create a whole new universe: time travel. Travelling through time and the effects of such travel on the “correct” time-line has been a constant theme throughout all Star Trek series. Abrams can use the notion that the timeline in the movie is not the same as the original series to explain away any inconsistencies major or minor. The bridge of the Enterprise doesn’t look like the original? Of course it doesn’t, this is the new timeline. Don’t remember Uhura and Spock getting it on? No worries, this is the new timeline. Can’t quite fathom what Leonard Nimoy is doing here? He’s the connection to all that you hold dear, and he’s visiting from the original timeline. Quite simple.
Long time fans need not worry, as with all Star Trek alternate realities, the corresponding characters retain key character qualities across iterations. Is Kirk going to bed every green-skinned female he can find? Sure. Is Scotty going to wail that he’s giving the Captain all he can? Yes. Is Bones going to be a doctor and not a nuclear physicist/philosopher/magician? You betcha.
The one oddity that Abrams brings to the mix is that quite often throughout the film, you could swear that you’re watching a much better Star Wars film than any that’s been produced since 1983. We’ve got a young speed-demon trapped in farm country pulled into intergalactic peril by an older man who knew and respected the youngster’s dead father. We’ve got jawa-like creatures rambling about making odd noises and fixing machinery, complete with very simlar music in the background. Why, there’s even a rousing award ceremony at the end complete with really tall curtains. This isn’t surprising. Abrams has said, “As a kid, Star Wars was much more my thing than “Star Trek” was.” But for a guy who talks about not being “distracted by the specter” of Star Wars, he certainly does a lot to make this film into a Star Wars in Star Trek clothing.
And perhaps that, in the end, is what makes Star Trek such a rollicking good time. By tapping in to the adventure and excitement that the original Star Wars brought to the screen, he is able to rescue the energy, humor, and, yes, serious themes that were present in the Star Trek series but have been buried under layers of super-serious navel-gazing. Abrams makes it easy to see what all the hub-bub is about.
Somehow missed this last summer. Here’s Sam (nee Leslie) Phillips playing new songs in someone’s office. It’s a cool concept. You see folks working at their desks and others gathered round like an impromptu jam session at the coolest office in the world.
It’s taken 6 seasons of playing officially sanctioned tournaments as a PDGA member, but I’ve finally succeeded in finishing a tournament dead last. Well, dead last in my division any way; there was one male in M-4 who shot worse than I did and one male who started the tourney and did not finish.
I’d like to blame the wind, but 2 other guys in my division shot under par and another shot par. The truth is that I made some poor decisions, and my mid-range game totally abandoned me.
Interestingly, on the one hole that proved to be the most challenging (and to my mind basically pointless), I shot par on the first round and a bogey on the second. Better than some others. It’s small comfort.