Daylight Saving Time proposal

An imagined discussion of how it might go if someone were proposing Daylight Saving Time as a new idea now:

So you're saying we should all just get up an hour earlier?

Yes.

And get our kids up an hour earlier for school?

Yes.

And why do we do this?

So it's daylight a bit longer in the evening.

And?

Well, that can save some energy.

Only if we don't turn our lights on, which we probably will anyway.

You can be outside later.

Are you suggesting we're afraid of the dark or something?

No, no.  But you won't need lights out there until later.

Yeah, I think you really need to go back to the drawing board on this one.

A Modest Proposal: Overturning Roe v Wade edition

The reason conservatives want the Supreme Court to overturn Roe v Wade and ban abortion (and those conservatives make no effort to make policies to help children) is simple: They want more babies born so they can eat the babies.

Not all conservatives, of course. Only the wealthy ones can afford baby meat.

Exactly how were we *saving* daylight?

If since March 11 we've been "saving" daylight then conceivably we should have a seven-month stockpile from which we could redeem some of that saved-up daylight and not have it be so dark when we leave work tomorrow.

"Daylight Saving Time" my ass; it was Daylight Having Time and we squandered it during summer when there was plenty of daylight already.

(Clearly linguists were not consulted when the policy was named.)

Raindrops keep falling on your car

In honor of some late spring rain here in the Southland...

When someone washes his car and then it rains he dejectedly feels as though the weather was conspiring against him, as though clouds have some sentience and they get their jollies over thwarting a clean car.

However, even granting that clouds really are out to get us in this modest way, the logic breaks down. Out of the millions of cars just here in Southern California alone it stands to reason that at least one car is washed every day of the year (and realistically it's at least thousands per day), but it does not rain every day. Even discounting the days when there's no clouds (apparently these sentient clouds cannot will themselves into appearing in the sky), there's plenty of cloudy days when it does not rain on freshly washed cars.

Of course, it might be that the clouds are smarter than us.

Perhaps it's that the clouds don't want us to think we can manipulate the situation. If it rained every time a car was washed (or maybe every time a certain number in a given area were clean) we could coordinate our washing efforts and ensure there's never a drought.

Nature's not going to let us have it that easy.

Irregardless is in the dictionary, to the chagrin of many and the semi-delight of others

Two alliterative sentences railing against this:

Irrespective of the irresponsible initiative of those at institutions that produce dictionaries that resulted in the term "irregardless" being integrated in to its pantheon of inclusion (with the implicit acceptance), if the definition of said term is a mere variation on "regardless" then such indiscretion disintegrates any importance of even any modicum of codification to our language (that presumably we were to infer from their effort to generate the list of the lexicon), rendering the integrity of investigating words in a dictionary to the point of irrelevance.

To adopt a misused word merely because it received an implausibly high level of utterance in common parlance seems highly irregular intuition on the part of those who ajudicate what gets imported—especially in light of the fact that there's already a perfectly good word available that holds the intended meaning by those using the longer (and more multi-syllabic) variation—makes the decision essentially irreconcilable, even if duly indicated as improper.

~

Three less-alliterative paragraphs that offer a compromise (of sorts):

If in all other application of the prefix "ir-" to a word changes the meaning of the new word to be opposite of the original, the conventional meaning of "irregardless" would be the opposite of "regardless" (in the same way that, for example, "irresponsible" means "not responsible"). That, of course, is not the case.

"Regardless" itself is already essentially the opposite of "regard," with the application of the "-less" suffix ("without regard to"), so ultimately that should make "irregardless" mean the same as "regard" but holding the implication of meaning "not without regard to," for contexts where one wished to refute where another had failed to regard something one thought worthy of that.

With that definition there'd be no irredeemable redundancy to what has been introduced, something filling a need rather than being merely what someone who didn't think through what he meant to say, followed by another who didn't think through what he meant to say, followed by another who didn't think through what she meant to say….

~

A conclusion about which all might be able to agree, but probably not:

Let's dispense with such topics, as concern for English making sense surely must be deemed irrational and itself can even be considered indefensible.

When it comes down to it: Who bothers with dictionaries any more except when playing Scrabble? Thus, all this energy suffices in arbiting board games.

(Let's not go down the path of pondering who still plays Scrabble.)

~

Interrogatories? Irascible diatribes?

Striving

The quest for excellence in a world that rewards and requires only adequacy is the primary source of frustration for the contemporary artist.

Maybe.

~

I really should have tried harder with that. (Eh, like anyone cares...)

The other post-election blues

Back during the weeks leading up to the election, I got a considerable amount of mail from those either in favor of or opposed to particular propositions (most notably the local ones). Every day my mailbox was stuffed.

Since election day I have received nothing from them. No notes thanking me for voting as they recommended or condemning me for going against them. Nothing.

It's as though they only cared about me for my vote, as though I had no thoughts, no dreams, no aspirations. It seems I was just a nameless member of the electorate that they wanted for their bidding.

I feel so used.

Is it time for the next election yet?

Ha-"law"-een

As I post this, it's possible that someone could be worried about getting a citation from the L.A.P.D. for using (or even just having) Silly String. (Yes, Silly String--that liquid propelled from aerosol cans that forms thin strands of resin.) Signs posted in Hollywood suggest that today and through noon Saturday it's ticket-able offense in that part of town.

Some might look at that and think it's silly to ban Silly String (especially only for one 36-hour period a year), but let's be clear: I'm not saying the ban is silly. I'm saying the sign is saying that the ban is silly.

Allow me to elaborate.

Right at the top the "$ 1,000.00 FINE" text is placed in quotes:(We'll overlook the closing quote being the same typographical symbol as the opening quote. Perhaps they have limited characters available at wherever these signs are printed. Probably not, but let's overlook nonetheless.)

It would seem perhaps the intent was to emphasize the magnitude of the check one would have to write (or one's parents would have to write) if cited. Generally speaking, making the text bold or italicized would be the better way to do that, but let's grant that such formatting may not be possible with the typesetting for these signs.

So what would be the next best thing? Make the characters bigger? Yes. Oh wait. They already did that.

Let's review the rules for quotations mark usage from our friends at Overthinking Everything to see if any of them might explain this:
1. To cite the name of an article from a magazine or newspaper.
There's no attribution to any publication originally printing this, so that doesn't apply.
2. To indicate a direct quotation.
There's no attribution to anyone saying this, so that's also unlikely.
3. To set off words that are deemed special.
Well, that seems likely, but let's not be too hasty.
4. To express dialogue between characters in a story.
I, uh, suppose this could be some extremely experimental fiction, but even I am reluctant to believe that.
5. To indicate irony.
Ding ding! We have a winner. They're like air quotes when speaking, to reinforce sarcasm. So it's suggesting (ahem) penalty is a one-thousand dollar fine (wink-wink).

However, from a single instance it's difficult to draw any conclusion. Let's move on to the fine print:Here the word "ILLEGAL" gets the irony treatment--which, I have to say, would undermine the impact of the capitalized term, were it not for the fact that we've already dismissed the size of the fine as just kidding around, so clearly it's not really illegal.

So it appears that not only did the person who composed this sign knew exactly how to employ ironic quotation marks, he or she was being consistent with their usage. Thus, this is something of an inside joke for those who can appreciate the sardonic tone the quotes indicate.

Who knew the city had such a sense of humor?

I will concede it is entirely likely that those who might be inclined to cover the streets with the difficult-to-clean resin at Halloween celebrations would fail to grasp the humor on the signs and think that the law is real, and the perceived threat of having to fork over a grand might prevent them from using it anyway. However, those of us who are "in the know"* are keenly aware that there's no actual threat. (We choose to not use Silly String because it's juvenile and we understand the hideous mess it makes, and further we grasp that it's our tax dollars that would have to go toward cleaning it.) It's possible that the sign could be working on multiple levels.

However, if some year the city decides to remove the irony and start issuing these citations for real (and collecting those thousands of dollars), they should take some of that money and get sign-making technology that allows for other formatting (bold, italics, underlining), just so there's no confusion. But as long as apparently they're limited to only quotes, I guess this "Los Angeles Municipal Code 56.02" will remain only more silliness in Hollywood.

~

* The quotes here indicate a common expression, which is akin to something someone said, but without specific attribution. It is entirely possible that they are not being used properly, but they seemed like a good idea at the time.

How it is

(Given that there's still a few hours left here in the Pacific time zone I can still get this in.)

In honor of Oscar Wilde's birthday, I offer this quote from A Woman of No Importance:

"The secret of life is to appreciate the pleasure of being terribly, terribly deceived."

Yum-oh no (don't let the idiots get you down)

After 30-Minute Meals, $40 a Day, Tasty Travels, the Rachael Ray talk show, the Every Day with Rachael Ray magazine, and her face plastered on Triscuit boxes, does her latest special, Rachael Ray Feeds Your Pets, mark the moment that Rachael Ray has officially jumped the shark?

Trick question. The shark was jumped back with her ill-fated first attempt at combining cooking and interviews: Inside Dish.

This cooking show for pets merely proves that producers (and magazine publishers and snack food companies...) consider giving her yet another show to be a good idea. I have no idea if Rachael Ray simply doesn't know how to say no, or if she grasps the importance of taking advantage of her 30 minutes of fame (clearly she's stretched past 15) while the number of people who find her tolerable must theoretically outnumber the people who despise her, or if she's become so egomaniacal that she can coerce the R-whipped producers into doing this.

Frankly, having sat through most of the Pet show (only for the purpose of being fair for this post), it's not as bad as her other shows, because there's a number of expose pieces (where we don't actually see Rachael, merely hear her do the voiceover) to break up the cooking sequences. There's no pathetic attempts at conducting interviews. And much as part of me does scoff at the notion of spending that much effort preparing gourmet food for animals, the part of me that has fond memories of pets I've had can understand wanting to do special things for them. I wouldn't cook for pets (if I had any at this time), but I can't entirely dismiss the notion.

It is far from the worst thing I've seen on television recently. I'm not saying I'd recommend anyone else actually watch it (if you can't find anything worthwhile on, I'd still say turn off the TV rather than watch it), but it's not the end of Western civilization.

Probably.

I won't expend any energy being vitriolic toward her persona. Her ubiquity is no longer tolerable, but that's why I don't buy her books or watch her shows (any more). In the words of Gary Anthony Williams' character in Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle, "The universe tends to unfold as it should." The novelty of Rachael has already worn off, yes, but eventually that will be realized by those who keep giving her airtime. In the meantime, complaining won't be as effective as ignoring her.

~

Speaking of less-than-worthwhile TV: We got around to watching The Return of Jezebel James.

I choose to believe Fox strong-armed it into being so bad, and that before they got their hands on it, the Amy Sherman-Palladino created series was tolerable. (If they took the laugh-track out it might be only bad.) However, the actual program... well, let's just say: my fiancée, a big Gilmore Girls fan, adorer of Parker Posey, devotee of Six Feet Under, and who really wanted to like the show, had to force herself to watch the second episode. (A "trifecta of disappointment," as she called it.)

Eh, at least Rachel Ray wasn't in it.

Don't tell the Lorax

One evening back in late October I paused by these trees (palm, I believe) next to this streetlight and experimented with shooting straight up along the pole of the light. You can judge the result for yourself:
I had passed this spot many times and thought the illumination of the streetlight on the trees to be interesting (or at least potentially so) for a photographic subject, but on those occasions I'd kept going, procrastinating because I figured I could take the shots later. But then on this October evening, as you can see, I got over the procrastination. (Whether I should have is another story.)

So?

A week later I passed the same location and... well, have a look at the picture below, taken looking up the post of the same streetlight.


Yes, the trees are gone. The photo has not been altered in any way.

I should note that this spot is next to a construction site, but the construction had been going on for months. When I took the first picture I had no idea the trees were scheduled to be cut down. Presumably mine was the last picture ever taken of those trees.

This seems to be a rather obvious example of why it's important to not put off until tomorrow what you can do (or photograph) today, but given that after every week where I didn't take their picture the trees were still there, I cannot help but wonder if they'd still be around if only I'd procrastinated longer.

If the universe was just keeping them around until I got around to acting on my idea of taking this picture, I would have gladly kept not doing it to allow them to survive indefinitely. (It's not like the shot turned out well enough to justify tree-killing.) I'd much rather have trees than pictures of trees.

Sometimes it's tricky not to believe in coincidence. I'm just sayin'.

Generally useless

"To generalize is to be an idiot." - William Blake

~

The only accurate general statement I could hope to make is the ridiculously obvious one: All generalizations are inaccurate. The attempt at pseudo-paradox there is likely to be off-putting for readers in a way that negates any power the statement have had otherwise; it reeks of trying too hard to be clever (even though the thought itself came with relative ease, truth be told). Of course, the speculation about how readers would react could very well be construed as a paltry attempt at reverse psychology, where they are only turned off by the notion of me suggesting what turned them off. And the way the sentences in this paragraph keep following this pattern runs the very real risk of losing whatever readers have bothered to stick with it this far.

So the only recourse left available to us at this point is to delve back into the specific, but that throws down the proverbial gauntlet to the reader to decide whether he/she agrees with the details of the example offered.

Honestly, I am as flummoxed as you regarding why this is still going. The only explanation I can offer: I really am as screwed up as you're thinking I am. And now you're thinking that the ploy of self-deprecation is intended to steal the argument (so to speak) in a rather pathetic attempt to elicit some modicum of sympathy, when all I can say about that is if that was my motivation it was unconscious. However, you're not buying that, not merely because you cannot believe me that oblivious to my mind's inner workings but because I've made you dismissive of everything I say by suggesting you're dismissing everything I say.

For the love of all that is decent in the world, please stop reading! I implore you—cease running your eyes over the words in front of you! It's entirely likely that I'll keep on going, caught in a loop of neurotic self-analysis.

No! Don't refute that this is not particularly self-analytical, and that any implicit neurosis is not to blame for the way this continues. There is no point in you trying to render any sort of logical conclusion from this; I assure you that one is not coming, and you would be well-served to limit your expectations now to avoid inevitable disappointment.

Egad! I just did it again. There's little point in apologizing; you wouldn't believe it to be genuine after all these implicit and explicit moments of ostensible manipulation that were nothing more than trying to anticipate your reactions and account for them in how the piece went after that, and which succeeded only in burying itself all the further.

That deprecatingly accurate assessment you found off-putting, but if you're still reading at this point you have expressly ignored direct pleas earlier in the piece, and I doubt either of us can really have much empathy for our combined suffering. This went as it did, and if you're reading this far you stuck with it for reasons about which even I cannot guess. That's on you.

Specifically.

Biting the hand that types

On the "Good Food" program on KCRW that aired this morning, a correspondent (Laura Avery ) interviewed Kelly Courtney, chef of a restaurant in Encino (apparently called Firefly). The interview was conducted at the farmer's market, so the chef was speaking extemporaneously.

In speaking about a recipe (I missed the beginning of what she was explaining, so I cannot say exactly what it was), she mentioned putting grated slices of a particular type of cheese (I did not catch the name of that either) on top of the finished dish (whatever it was), commenting afterward that the cheese was "ambiguous" with it.

That was the moment I started paying attention (and what prompted me to jot down the names, explaining how I was so specific in the first paragraph), rather than just sort of having the radio on in the background.

I am not an avid listener of "Good Food" (the only reason I heard what I did was because the show came on after "This American Life"), but I seen a reasonable amount of programming on Food Network, so I have at least a passing familiarity with the sort of adjectives that are typically used to describe the way one element of a recipe contributes to the overall taste, which did not (in my experience) include "ambiguous."

Initially, I thought the chef misused "ambiguous" in that context, intending a term more along the lines of "innocuous" (to indicate that the cheese did not draw attention to itself but subtly enhanced the dish). My knee-jerk reaction: Another instance of an ostensibly intelligent person who lazily applies one term when another term that actually connotes the intended meaning is available.

However, reviewing the possible meanings for "ambiguous" it can denote being "indistinct" and that, I imagine one could make a case, was what the chef intended to indicate about the taste. It could seem even poetic, in a way.

Also, the peculiarities of the brain do not always allow one to retrieve the information that is desired at the moment it is needed. I know that sometimes I am trying to think of a word that means exactly what I am trying to say, but my mind gives me nothing more than confirmation that I do, in fact, know the word, but does not give me the word. It may give me a word that is similar in association, but not the word. Thus, it is entirely possible that the chef knew the distinction between "ambiguous" and "innocuous" but at that moment, with the reporter's microphone in her face, focused on the specifics of the recipe, that her brain merely offered her "ambiguous" as an applicable adjective.

I concluded that she did misapply that term, due either to failure to learn better terms or to temporary brain malfunction (so to speak), but to focus on such a faux pas and consider that contributing to the devolution of English is to grant a level of influence to an NPR program that is undoubtedly underserved. If people paid attention in school or otherwise developed a vocabulary that was reinforced in their lives, an off-the-cuff remark from a local radio food show interview is unlikely to make them start misusing those words; if they did not know the distinction in the first place, expecting a show about food (a sensual pleasure, not an intellectual one) to educate them is unrealistic.

Perhaps you were hoping I'd harp on a single mistake as emblematic of a larger problem (in this case, with language), with snarky disdain. However, even as one who invested the time to distinguish the connotation of "ambiguous" from the connotation of "innocuous" (and therefore could feel justified to offer such criticism), that would be complaining about someone using a term in the wrong context by taking that mistake out of context.

While that certainly could be fun (and I've certainly done that in the past), and it would be easy enough for me to present such a criticism and avoid hypocrisy by the implication of self-awareness of using hypocrisy in an ironic way (and those who were paying close attention, pausing to consider what I meant before having a knee-jerk reaction to the ostensible hypocrisy, might think it mildly clever), I am not doing that.

Deconstructing why I might be inclined to that, it seems clear it would merely be something to do to make me feel better about the fact that no one is interviewing me. About that I shouldn't feel bad in the first place, for a rather obvious reason: Were I interviewed, it is almost a certainty my brain would give me a wrong word when I was answering a question, and someone listening would indignantly get offended about how I was destroying English, and likely post a rant about it on his blog.

Like the world needs that.