axis mundi or you got to pick up every stitch

I won’t say that May Day (der Tag der Arbeit) is a subdued affair beyond the land of the Franks by any means (there are quite a lot of protest rallies and demonstrations happening—which I was curious to see but I don’t think I should go looking for trouble today), but I did not appreciate the clear demarcations of customs and traditions and the holiday rather snuck up on me, without the Maypoles (Maibäume) being set up.
It makes some sense, however, jenseits (this side) of the Limes—the limits of the Roman Empire and thus the civilised world, that conquests would have tamped out some heathen celebrations. The follow-on missions of Christianity did not attempt to totally quash but rather integrate and co-opt such behaviour. No one really knows the origin of the beams, temporary totem-poles, regaled and danced around, but some theorise that the tree represents the axis on which the world turns or the cosmological Yggdrasil that connects the nine worlds of Norse mythology. The bit about the ruckus of the night before, Walpurgis, might be a religious conceit, saying that witches gather to dance with their gods or commune with the devil—although it must have always been observed in some manner and with meaning (though now lost) as a cross-quarter day, exactly half a year on towards the harvest festival of Samhain (Halloween). Superstition holds that one will meet a witch on May Day, which old witch and probably why it is a good idea not to go looking for trouble since it knows where to find you.

full-stop or conjunction-junction what’s your function?

An English professor is soliciting from her students new slang terms and the daily contributions are showing language’s innovation rather than its corruption or languor. They’re mostly pet-words but immediately intelligible and some even gaining currency.

The professor was also introduced to something more novel, perhaps driven by the short-hand of the keyboard (or by languages that have such established moods), of a new type of punctuation—a conjunction in addition to if, and, or, then, not, xor but slash, either spelled out or rendered as a virgule. Interestingly, it was revealed that slash in the traditional sense has become something spelt out, as in “my lover slash best friend.” This new usage does not represent/suggest two inclusive properties, rather can show intention verses outcome: “I was at the library all after researching my thesis slash trolling classmates’ summer vacation photos.” In order words, admitting what one should have been doing versus what was actually accomplished. There are even examples expressing “following on” and “in summary,” which should not be dismissed as a lazy way to organize one’s thoughts, but rather a development to study.

sympathetic resonance or the drink-whisperer

An intrepid roving reporter with The Atlantic magazine, after seeing bar-tenders in a trendy, stylo-milo joint in Vancouver, neither shook, nor stirred nor scuttled their signature martinis but rather tuned them with a tuning-fork of a certain pitch, is now experimenting with the method himself, with various cocktails and applications. Results so far seem inconclusive, but I rather like the idea that a particular harmonic vibration could be the proper and professional way to mix a good drink and really bring out the flavour and subtler notes. What do you think—is it just gimmicky and like water drawn during a full moon or magnetic insoles (which ought not to be dismissed out-of-hand either maybe) or might the right combination be struck?

sjörnustríð: ný von

This past Saturday, Iceland held parliamentary elections, which proved a great disturbance for the establishment, already sorely reduced by the popular backlash to incumbents over their wrecking of the national economy. Observers are calling the rebel scum that roundly stole the vote, minority and independent parties, euroskeptics and threaten to derail further Icelandic integration. Well, the nerve—I suppose we ought not to pay any more attention to them and their shenanigans.
Here is a picture of the mayor of Reykjavik, Jón Gnarr Kristinsson—an actor, bassist and comedian besides, casting his ballot. It’s his business of course whom he voted for, but I’ll wager as a free-agent himself and founder of the Best Party (Besti flokkurinn) whose platform promised listening more to women and old people since those groups tend to be marginalised, he’s not in lock-step with the old guard.