The view from a bench in Prospect Park, Brooklyn on Sunday
And from Monday…
Having grown up watching the CBC on Channel 9 out of Windsor, I always had affection for the rather civil Canadian ways of being and seeing, and speaking about the world. And I was always in awe of how the very best youth hockey teams we Ohioans could offer up were devoured like snacks by our jovial Canadian counterparts, who played the gim aboot as well as a gim could be played.
So I very much enjoyed reading this review and being reminded of so many Canadiansims, as well as learning about some previously unfamiliar ones.
“The entry for the stereotypical Canadian term “eh”—not included in the original edition—is almost five thousand words long, discussing its history (it’s first found in British English), its status as a marker of Canadian identity, its main functions (“Confirmational uses, Contesting uses, Pardon eh, and Narrative uses,” further divided into a number of subsenses), and its use in other English-speaking countries. “Hoser” is shown to have been created by the comedians Rick Moranis and Dave Thomas, on “Second City TV,” in 1981. The development of “chesterfield”—once a common Canadianism for a sofa of any sort, but now somewhat moribund—is explored at length…
The dictionary also includes regionalisms from around the country. A “parkade” is a multilevel parking garage, found chiefly in Alberta and associated with the Hudson Bay department stores. “Bunny hug” is used in Saskatchewan for a hooded sweatshirt. In Quebec, “guichet” is a term for an A.T.M., from a Canadian French word for “counter.” Newfoundland is particularly well represented, thanks to its isolation and to an unusual Irish-dominated settlement history…”
Updated from the 1967 first edition of A Dictionary of Canadianisms on Historical Principles, the DCHP-2 is a “greatly expanded edition, which took eleven years of work by a team of linguists at the University of British Columbia.”
Released to coincide with Canada’s 150th birthday, this new edition was systematically re-conceptualized to focus upon 20th- and 21st-century words, along with revised meanings of various DCHP-1 entries.
Declaring it a “delightful dictionary,” Sheidlower takes minor exception to some lackluster photo illustrations provided for the online project, while praising its less than conservative use of modern research tools, and the inclusion of video still not typically utilized by scholarly websites.
And I found delightful Sheidlower’s own special way of using the English language to explore itself, as I always do. And that included the chuckle I had at the very end, when his parting line about this revised Dictionary of Canadianisms landed right on the button.
A fascinating article at nationalgeographic.com focuses on various cat species from around the globe many that most people have rarely seen, or even heard of.
“Advances in genotyping and sequencing reveal that Earth’s 31 small cat species hail from seven distinct lineages, each named for the first discovered species in the line.” Thus the title statement accompanying a chart showing who is related the to whom.
While large in size, the modern day cheetahs and pumas (aka cougars, North American mountain lions) are genetically related to small cats. This is why they do not roar like lions, tigers, and panthers (which include leopards and jaguars) due to a different bone structure in the neck, but can actually purr like a typical house cat.
But the world is full of all sorts of other cats that can appear familiar or incredibly exotic, and which are often singular in their remarkable habits. Or rather, it was once full of them. The all too familiar destruction of natural habitats by our own species has endangered many of this secretive members of our extended planetary family.
I have been a lover of cats since Year One
But some of the furry felines in this informative article bywere new even to me.
You can read the article and see all of the wonderful photos HERE.
The website 4D Somme is dedicated to the British units raised in Ireland and Ulster, who saw considerable action during the battle of the Somme, which began on July 1, 1916, and ended nearly 5 months later, on November 18th.
But the overall imagery provided covers the entire battlefield.
Above, the British lines at the start and end of the battle.
Hundreds of thousands died to move the front about 7 miles – over one million casualties in total among the British, French, and German forces fated to take part in arguably the most savage and costly battle in human history.
The satellite maps and the overlays taken from actual WWI strategic mapping can be zoomed into down to the individual village, trench, or observation post.
Above, actual reconnaissance photographs lined up perfectly where they were actually taken from aircraft similar to those operated by my maternal grandfather, who flew for the American forces father south near the end of the Great War.
While other sites go into greater detail about the people who fought and died along the River Somme in 1916, this site is entirely engrossing and highly recommended.
The 4D Somme full url is
And while this song pokes fun at the way pundits, scholars, and fans have described or imagined Bob Dylan, it is not entirely inaccurate or exaggerated, when it comes to what he does and why.
As for his reputation for astute social commentary, this could have been written last week, instead of half a century ago.
And so too could this…
And when it comes to precision strikes in the post 9-11 world, here Bob Dylan pays homage to any early influence from the Delta Blues tradition while landing direct hits on the delusional societal backsliding centered at Twelfth Street and Vine, which has never actually existed in Kansas City, any more than other myths people cling to while denying the reality of everything from Climate Change to Evolution.
Paul Kantner was overshadowed by Jorma Kaukonen’s freak guitar playing and Marty Balin’s pop star voice. But he was the blonde guitarist who made girls stop wearing bras and start having sex. He should have been given the Freedom Medal by some President sometime.
At least he made the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame –
I have a special place in my heart for the song “Have You Seen the Stars Tonight.”
THE trippiest record ever to come out of San Francisco was Blows Against the Empire, in 1970 – two sides of vinyl that made Revolution #9 seem like a high school AV class project, and at the end of the far out musical maelstrom was this sublime little gem.
Jerry Garcia on pedal steel, Crosby and Nash on harmonies, each adding magic that was absent from all the Jefferson Starship missions that followed this transitional paradise that Paul Kantner put together after the Jefferson Airplane crashed and burned.
Rest in Peace in the Stars, Baron Von Tollbooth
And I have just spent one of the worst weeks of my entire life as a result. Tried to tell it that it was a cold. The first three days of writhing joint aches and chills were only the beginning.
Imagine every deep breath resulting in a good minute of convulsive, car-engine-trying-to-turn-over coughs until you feel faint from no oxygen, that finally spark and kick into truly gut wrenching, every muscle in your body clenched yeti howl coughs that cause a blinding headache, to maybe, if you are lucky, actually dredge from your lungs a plug of the thick sewage sludge, and having to expel nauseating lard lumps of it out of your trachea before it suffocates you – talking Linda Blair in the Exorcist amounts – and getting about 10 to 15 seconds before it happens all over again, for over 48 hours straight, when any sleep is counted in minutes during the 15 minutes every 4 hours when the Advil actually stops your chills and aches. And then laying there for another 3 days as it slowly lessens.
On the one hand, watching a game between two bad teams can end up a closely contested match that comes down to the very last play, as it did tonight when the Ravens blocked a potentially game winning field goal and returned it all the way for the winning TD as time ran out.
On the other hand, watching two bad teams for hours like that makes one want to slink out unnoticed after it’s over, as if they don’t want to be seen leaving a cow flop throwing contest