Although we count on space and time
To honour all that is sublime
And use oblivion to punish art
That makes no difference to the heart,
The time a writer needs to last —
The synapse-leaping flash — is fast.
And space is tiny; we can find
A universe inside the mind.
It’s with these smallest measures we
Decide the fate of what we see.
The generations come apace
But each must choose its time and space.
Originally posted on Making Light
The house in Wormerveer has just fallen through.
The owner is not going to Mallorca with his family next year, so he is not renting it out. We have to find another place.
This is really, really disappointing. It was a great house, light and airy and well suited to us. And the process of looking for housing is discouraging and frustrating, time-consuming and generally a drag.
Sigh.
I am seriously annoyed.
Alex’s school is doing a “Keeping Myself Safe” unit, and he brought the first book from it home today. It’s entitled “Laura Goes Home”.
In it, because her mother is late, Laura is left at school. She decides to walk home on her own, but she’s frightened and crying. A man walking his dog stops to ask if she is lost. End of book.
The homework exercise that came with it was a half sheet of paper that said only:
Please read and discuss this book – Laura Goes Home – with your child and then tick the outcome chosen by your child.
1. Left open ended.
2. a. The man takes Laura away.
b. Laura’s mummy comes up at that moment.
c. Laura screams, “I don’t know you” and runs back to school to tell Mrs Smith
We have included the following letter in Alex’s homework folder back.
We have decided to excuse Alex from doing this piece of homework, for two reasons.
1. It’s unclear what he’s supposed to do. He puzzled and stewed over the various options, but we couldn’t figure out whether this is what he would do, what he thinks happened next, or some other answer. He was quite upset by his inability to figure out what the exercise was about.
2. We strongly object to the high level of paranoia that the exercise is designed to build. Although children do need to be told not to talk to strangers, we both found the idea of ending this story with “The man takes Laura away” really repugnant. And the third option, to have the child scream and make a scene, is also inappropriate when the man has does nothing more than crouch down and ask if she is lost, with no contact or menace whatsoever.
Although we appreciate the teaching on well being and safety, we are concerned that this goes too far. Children need to be taught to be cautious – but not to be afraid all of the time.
Would you be available to talk about this at some point on Friday afternoon?
I think I need to review the materials for this unit, because I really don’t agree with the tone they’re taking.
The fact is that stranger abduction is extremely rare (see, for instance, the statistics for England and Wales here – I couldn’t find the equivalent Scottish statistics, but they will be smaller due to the lower population here.) Our fictional Laura was in much more danger from crossing the road than from the man who saw her crying and asked if she was lost. She was in more danger of violence or sexual abuse from people she knew than from strangers as well – the vast majority of these crimes occur in the home. But I seriously doubt that the next book in the series will address those issues – parents would riot, for one thing.
And Martin and I both really object to raising our children in irrational fear. They will have to adopt realistic threat assessment strategies when they go out alone in public, which won’t be for some time. (To go back to the book, I would teach Laura to stay on school grounds and get the office to call her mother. She’d never have gotten to page 3 until she was old enough to make the walk home without her mother.)
But if we tell them that every stranger is out to get them, and they find out that we were exaggerating, then where will our credibility be? How, then, will they believe us when we say not to go out at night, or through bad neighbourhoods, or with an ostentatious display of wealth? How can I teach Fiona the caution necessary for a woman to be safe, if she’s been immunised by cheap scare tactics now?
And what does that do for their fellow feeling with mankind? Are we really trying to build Margaret Thatcher’s world, where there is “No such thing as society”, one isolated child at a time? There are ways for a child to react to – and reject the assistance of, if appropriate – a strange adult that don’t involve screaming and running away, for instance.
I was annoyed enough that the nursery discussed Madeline McCann’s abduction with the kids (as though there was any cautionary or educational element to it – are they not to sleep with the windows open, perhaps?). But to hear this same message of fear from the school, from the official educational channels, really gets my goat.
It seems like we’re protecting our kids from everything but irrational terror. It’s almost like going to the airport these days.
lolcat n lolcat++
is in ur prezentz
watchin u play,
heerin u purr.
i can has sense?
o noes!
sintz i sees u
noe kitteh is u++.
noe meow left,
fur al on end,
pointy earz ringin,
green eyes clozin.
im in my sunbeamz
dreamin of u
makin me worse
lik ded katz befor.
– o0o –
ohai
don likz
but likz.
ask why
an how?
me don’
quait knoe
but ow!
Originally posted on Making Light
lolcat n lolcat++
is in ur prezentz
watchin u play,
heerin u purr.
i can has sense?
o noes!
sintz i sees u
noe kitteh is u++.
noe meow left,
fur al on end,
pointy earz ringin,
green eyes clozin.
im in my sunbeamz
dreamin of u
makin me worse
lik ded katz befor.
Pastiche of a Catullus translation of a Sappho poem. Originally posted in the Making Light LOLCats thread.
> I CAN HAS
u can has saucerz
fallin lik sno
bringin u futur
no1 kno what
> NTHX
> I CAN HAS
u can has zombiez
shamblin about
smellin lik deth and rotn dekay
they can has brains?
> NTHX
> I CAN HAS
u can has godz
bigger than big thingz
fitin the giantz
n serpent n wolf
> NTHX
> I CAN HAS
u can has fery talez
lvs n spiritz
u can has bootz
play ur part
> NTHX
> I CAN HAS
u can has NEthing
citiez like glass
skynet aliv
angels n devils
humanz be hearin u talk
timlords n yeti
> NTHX
> I CAN HAS PHONE CAL?
> I CAN HAS PHONE CAL?
> I CAN HAS PHONE CAL?
LOLCats version of Neil Gaiman’s The Day the Saucers Came, originally posted on the Making Light LOLCats thread.
im in ur ruinz shamblin about
smellin lik deth and rotn dekay
mices and birdies all runin out
i can has brains?
i tiny kittee not veri tal
bitin ur nekaps off if i mai
clim up a tree an on ur hed fal
i can has brains?
member before-tym i was alaiv
lying in sunshine all dai
eten da kat fud when it ariv
i can has brains?
movin so slow 2 make u feel saif
m just a kittee don run awai
put out sum milk fur pur litl wafe
i can has brains?
time fur da pouncin then i mov fazt!
betr than katnip now i kan plai…
big meatie human i make u last.
i can has brains!
This was originally posted in the Making Light LOLCats thread.
> i is king.
> i can has sanwich.
> i is king & i is hungry.
> ping brother richard
> [AFK]
> i can has kipr from brkfst?
> i can has cold kfc, k?
> i is king
> i can has sanwich.
> why ur in my country fitin?
> were in tewx.
> no mustard!
> o noes!
> ping brother richard
> [AFK]
> tuna pasta?
> stfu
> i can has bacon?
> blt?
> i is king.
> i can has sanwich.
> WTF?
> woodvilles in pantry?
> clarence is drinkin my boozes?
> ping brother richard.
> [AFK]
> i is king
> know how 2 run things
> so wtf is with this place?
> i is king
> i can has sanwich
> ping brother richard
> [AFK]
This is a pastiche of a John M Ford villanelle. It was originally posted on the Making Light LOLCats thread.
I in ur sonnet, doin ur ritin.
How do this hapn? I just a kitty.
Main job of catz are just 2B pritty!
(‘Cept with the doggies, then us be fitin.)
Course back in da old days catz was workin
Eatin ur mouses an axin fr milk…
Now giv me treatz or me clawin ur silk!
An bring em here fast, none of ur shirkin.
U humanz r comin under r powr
Uzin ur money to pamper n feed us,
Learnin from websitez how much u need us.
R clvr planz is comin to flower!
Now mousie are safe in his tiny holz
Nless u go catch him. I da boss. LOLz.
This started a rather large thread of LOLcats pastiches and original poems on Making Light.
Martin sent me a rather silly YouTube link, mostly about Horatio Caine’s one-line quips at the end of the prologues of CSI: Miami. The sameness of his delivery, episode after episode, reminded me irresistibly of Aristophanes’ The Frogs. Indeed, I could not resist setting it all out. How would Aristophanes have tackled the rivalry among the three CSI shows?1
Dionysus, patron of drama, descends into the underworld to bring one of the great dramatists back to earth with him, to inspire the people of Athens to their former greatness. In the land of the dead, Aeschylus and Euripides are contending for the seat of honour, at Hades’ left hand, awarded to the greatest tragedian; it was Aeschylus, but Euripides is trying to take it over. In the background, Sophocles is staying out of the battle.
Like Dionysus, Dr Quincy, ME goes into the TV studios to bring one of the current crop of detectives with him, to solve the crimes of the modern era. There, Gil Grissom and Horatio Caine are arguing over who should get the largest dressing room, awarded to the best CSI; it was Gil’s, but Caine is trying to take it over. In the backdrop, Mac is staying out of the battle.
The two playwrights’ works are compared to one another in a variety of ways. After opening prayers, each dramatist describes the other’s weaknesses and his own strengths. It becomes clear that Dionysus prefers Aeschylus, the more traditional and methodical playwright, over the more modern Eurypides.
The two detectives’ shows are also compared to one another. After a brief introduction covering their education and work experience, each CSI describes the other’s weaknesses and his own strengths2. It becomes clear that Quincy prefers Grissom, the scientist, over the flashier Caine.
Then the true contest begins. A nit-picking analysis of each dramatist’s best prologue, for logic and for style. The best3 part is when Aeschylus proves that, metrically and structurally, one can insert “lost his bottle of oil” into the line-ends of his opponent’s prologues.
Again, the key comparison is a nit-picking analysis of each detective’s investigative techniques, for protocol and for style. The best part is when Gil proves that, dramatically and stylistically, one can put one’s sunglasses on and sidle like a crab at any point in his opponent’s exchanges with other characters2, again.
The final contest takes place over a set of scales, as each dramatist recites a single line of one of his plays. The weightiest line wins. In each case, Aeschylus’ works outweigh Euripides’.
Like Dionysus, Quincy uses scales for a quantitiative analysis. Each CSI recounts one of his one-line end of prologue quips. The heaviest line wins. This bit, I’ll do.4
This last contest gives Dionysus the excuse he needs to bring back the playwright he really prefers, Aeschylus. As a final, stinging rebuke of Euripides’ preference of style over substance, he negotiates for Sophocles to have the seat of honour by Hades.
Like Dionysus, Quincy prefers Grissom6, and declares him the winner. As a final, stinging rebuke of Horatio Caine’s flashy style, he negotiates for Mac to have the coveted trailer.