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.

vom bamberg bis zum grabfeldgau

There is a saying that there can be no nation without an anthem (keine Nationen ohne Hymne), and while poet and novelist and Auslander, hailing from Karlsruhe in the Duchy of Hessen and by Rhine, Joseph Viktor von Scheffel intended no overtones of political secessionism or dangerous patriotism when he composed the lyrical anthem of the Franconia region (das Frankenlied). I think it was pure exultation and inspiration that he found while on retreat for the summer in 1859, in the midst of a march-writing craze, as a guest of Cloister Banz and explored Little Switzerland (die fränkische Schweiz), which the people later adopted as a regional symbol. Apparently, school children learn the song, rife with references to Franconia’s cities, landmarks and lore, and there’s even the robust refrain “Valeri, Valera.”
Valer-rah-ha-ha-ha-ha! Much of the matter of the lyrics touch on what von Scheffel could take in from his terrace, the peaks each with their own myths, the remainders of Celts, Mongols, the French and the Americans that also passed through. The words are wonderful and genuine, and who wouldn’t just visiting want to break into song with praise for this area. There is a priceless element of pomp to it too, which I suppose resides in all anthems and similar state-songs, like Rule Britannia! (von Scheffel also composed that summer rhymes about dinosaurs when a scientist who was also in residence showed him his fossil discoveries), which I won’t identify, not wanting (nor willing) to take away from this enduring double-rainbow moment and enduring pride.