Following on from yesterday’s post about the difficulties of the English language, Noreen came across the following letter from one David Truman of Fulham in the London Evening Standard of 18 November 1991:
Lines in honour of the rehabilitation of Frank Bough (by an inner-London primary school teacher trying to teach children English).
I take it you already know of tough and bough and cough and dough? Others may stumble, but not you On hiccough, thorough, laugh and through? I write in case you wish perhaps To learn of less familiar traps: Beware of heard, a dreadful word That looks like beard and sounds like bird. And dead; it’s said like bed, not bead; For goodness sake, don’t call it “deed”! Watch out for meat and great and threat (They rhyme with suite and straight and debt). A moth is not a moth in mother, Nor both in bother, broth in brother. And here is not a match for there, Nor dear for bear, or fear for pear. There’s dose and rose, there’s also lose (Just look them up) and goose and choose, And cork and work, and card and ward, And font and front, and word and sword, And do and go, and thwart and cart Come come, I’ve barely made a start! A dreadful language? Man alive, Who mastered it when I was five!
A couple of days ago I came across this wonderful collection of Windows error messages in haiku including quite a few I’d not seen before. I think my favourites are:
First snow, then silence. This thousand dollar screen dies so beautifully.
Chaos reigns within. Reflect, repent, and reboot. Order shall return.
Earlier today I was on a conference call trying – in vain – to get a supplier to commit to completing a piece of work by the date I need it. I’ve worked with this supplier before: they bob and weave to avoid dates, and when they can’t they (or to be fair often their suppliers) ignore them. I often liken getting things done under such circumstances to rolling jelly uphill through treacle with a toothpick. Which explains the little ditty I jotted down after today’s call:
The mountains of treacle Grow up to the skies; The mouldings of jelly Grow fat in pigsties; But my toothpicks, my toothpicks, Stay tiny and slight, No wonder my job It is stressful and shite.
I might improve it, but it’ll do for a start. đ
This quiz measures eccentricity compared with the normality of Joe Public. Do not confuse eccentricity with a lack of inhibition. Also eccentricity has no relationship to social class or gender; true eccentrics can come from any social class.
Answer the following questions. You have to be scrupulously honest in your self-assessments. You could even get your partner or friends to score you as a check â or just for fun!
Score one for each YES answer.
You donât/wonât/havenât had children because youâve deliberately decided not to.
You donât have a car/motorbike.
You canât drive a car/motorbike.
You regularly read books; difficult books not pulp fiction.
You have more than 250 books in the house.
You decide what you believe regardless of what the media/government says.
You passionately believe in freedom of speech. (You may not agree with someone elseâs view but you will defend to the death their right to hold and express that view however uncomfortable it may be.)
You do not have a mortgage.
You do not have a bank loan or overdraft of any sort (and have not had one in the last 3 years).
You pay off your credit cards in full every month.
You live in the smallest house that you need, rather than the largest you can afford.
You grow some of your own fruit and veg.
You were taught to think for yourself and make up your own mind and you still do.
You sleep in the nude.
You regularly walk around your house in the nude. Have an extra point if you regularly go nude in your garden.
You sleep in the same bed as your partner every night.
You talk to your partner about meaningful things like history, literature and your beliefs.
You value your money; you donât spend money you donât have; you regularly save a significant part of your income.
You have no more than two baths or showers a week.
You donât take foreign holidays.
You donât fly places as a leisure activity.
You regularly eat food in strange combinations, or a peculiar order, because thatâs what you like (eg. celery, strawberry jam and Marmite sandwiches; pudding before main course). Have an extra point if youâve ever done this in a restaurant rather than at home.
You do whatever you like/enjoy rather than what you think others expect of you and regardless of what they may think.
You enjoy this country as our heritage.
You take an interest in things around you like nature, history, architecture.
You can name 3 or more breeds of these farm animals: one point for each of cow, pig, sheep, chicken.
You do as well at University Challenge as the student teams do.
You know and use unusual words like: antediluvian, peripatetic, antepenultimate, opiate, apiary, verisimilitude, febrile. (If you donât know what all these mean you donât score; definitions below.)
You try to get things repaired before you succumb to buying a new one.
You donât have net curtains at your windows.
You can draw, paint, sculpt or embroider and do it regularly for pleasure.
You never watch soap operas or game shows on television.
You donât play golf.
You ignore fashion and buy new clothes when you need them, not just because the seasonâs colours have changed.
You donât buy gadgets or boysâ toys.
You wear a hat as part of your normal street attire. (Baseball caps, motorbike/cycle helmets, turbans and hoodies donât count.)
You keep an unusual pet. (Dogs, cats, fish, snakes, rodents, chickens, canaries donât count. Parrots, llamas, goats, monkeys, Michael Jackson do count.)
You spend less than ÂŁ100 on your partner (or if single each of your children, nieces, nephews as appropriate) at Christmas even though you could afford to spend more.
There is one unusual thing about you which makes you stand out. For instance: you are habitually known by an unusual nickname (Ripples, Binki); you always wear fluorescent green eye shadow; you always carry a gentâs umbrella in your rucksack. (Tattoos, piercings and dyed hair donât count.)
You habitually turn down free food, free gifts and âbargainsâ because they are not things you want/need.
You have a pre-1960 car which you still use for everyday travel.
You have retained a childhood/youthful interest long past what is generally deemed an appropriate age (eg. youâre still youth hosteling or camping in your 60s). (Score 2 points if you can honestly say you have more than one.)
You have an unusual hobby like breeding daffodils, bellringing, playing church organs or learning Cornish. (Score 2 points if you can honestly say you have more than one.)
Scoring Score one point for each YES answer; the maximum score is 50. 43-50 A true eccentricâs eccentric. One of the best. 32-42 Definitely eccentric. Youâre the sort of person of whom it is said âTheyâre madâ. 20-31 You have the potential to be eccentric but you need to sharpen your skills, 0-20 Boringly normal.
Word definitions antediluvian. Occurring or belonging to the era before the Biblical Flood. Extremely old and antiquated. peripatetic. Walking about or from place to place; traveling on foot. One who does a job which takes them from place to place. antepenultimate. Coming before the next to the last in a series. opiate. A sedative narcotic containing opium or one of its derivatives. Something that dulls the senses and induces relaxation or torpor. apiary. A place where bees and beehives are kept, especially a place where bees are raised for their honey verisimilitude. The quality of appearing to be true or real. febrile. Feverish (as in when you have ‘flu).
Wat Tyler Country Park, Essex, originally uploaded by Whipper_snapper.
Weird. Very Monty Python. It suggests a whole new set of meanings for that lovely piece from Monty Python and the Holy Grail:
Strange women lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony … You can’t expect to wield supreme executive power just ’cause some watery tart threw a sword at you! … I mean, if I went around sayin’ I was an emperor just because some moistened bint had lobbed a scimitar at me they’d put me away!
Eccentric looks at life through the thoughts of a retired working thinker