Smári McCarthy`s blagoblag on Yaxic.org

Sveiki!

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Raminta ir Jack turi šaunu blog kaip kalba oro Lithuanian Out Loud … su tyrimas o mokytis aš ga kalbėti greitai.

Atsiprašau už man skurdo gramatijsai.

Ačiū o viso gero, Šmąri

(That is to say: Today I’m blogging in my fairly poor Lithuanian, which I’ve picked up over the last three days. For some reason I thought it might be a funny idea. My vocabulary sucks and my grammar isn’t anything to sing high praise of, but I think that’s more or less correct - most failures will be in incorrect declensions for nouns - I’ve got the case right, but I’m not entirely sure about all the different changes that are made; for example I’m not sure if kalba remains kalba in the genative case as I use it above, but afaik it does.)

Let me venture at a description of a linguistic abnormality I have noticed in my own writing four times over the last two weeks.

When writing English text - which I do in great quantities - I have four times now noticed that instead of writing a word that I intended to write, I have wrote a homophone of the word, i.e., a word that is pronounced similarly but has different spelling and a different meaning. This has so far only occurred when I am actively thinking about each phrase as I write it, but rather only when writing passively - focusing on the content of the text rather than on the actual semantics, syntax and linguistic features of the language itself. Further, it does not appear to occur in handwriting, but only when typing on the computer.

This is different from making a typing error or a spelling error in that the word exchanges are far too distinguished: “cook” could be replaced with “cuck”, or “carat” instead of “carrot”. That said, I am prone to certain types of spelling errors when writing in English, but mostly this is in the form of exchanging ‘i’ and ‘e’ in words like “receive”.  Notice the difference.

I am wondering if this is a known problem? I have dubbed this ‘homophonomorphy’, as a personal attempt to further add to the flora of psychological conditions that people can be diagnosed with.

But in all honesty, this is slightly worrying to me, because although I’ve noticed this occurring four times now, I might have missed some occurrences… and it’s a bit disturbing to know your brain might be fried.

The English word ‘milieu’ is interesting. It means surroundings or environment. It’s related to the Danish/Norwegian word miljø, which also means environment.

I just finished reading Velimir Khlebnikov’s Artists Of The World!, in Anastasia Skoybedo’s translation as published in the Pusteblume Journal of Translation. Link (PDF). There he makes the assertion that certain sounds have correlation with certain geometrical properties and attempts to sketch a table of these sounds and properties whilst calling upon the artists of the world to create a writing system that accurately depicts this correlation.

     “Thus, from our landing of the staircase of thinkers it has become apparent that the simple bodies of language—the sounds of the alphabet—in essence name types of space, and are an enumeration of instances of its existence. The alphabet, common to many peoples, is a concise dictionary of spatial world, which is so close to your, artists, art and to your brush.”

Although this experiment will need several iterations before it reaches fruitition, I believe he may be on to something - something many others have been on to as well. From Neil Stephenson’s Mediaglyphics to John Wilkin’s Real Character (odd connection there) and throughout the entire omniglot repository, people are always trying to take language and abstract it to a level of maximal entropy: get as much out of every glyph as you can. The Chinese writing system is a great example of success in this, but simultaneously fails in many respects, as it is neither simple, concise, nor transparent although several base symbols are. (viz the Chinese glyphs for paddyfield, ⽥, and strength, ⼒, that combine to make the symbol for man, 男.)

But the reading of Khlebnikov’s text reminded me of the classical synesthesia experiment of Booba and Kiki. After having read quite a bit about synesthesia, and having actively sought out written works by known Synesthates, I’m leaning very much towards Richard Cytowic’s idea that synesthesia may be inherent in humans but to a varying degree, much like skin pigment, to take a frequently cited example of the variety of humans.

In part due to Cytowic’s promotion of the condition of synesthesia it has become something of a pop-syndrome, so to speak, along with Asperger’s syndrome in certain naïve circles of impressionable geeks. But that doesn’t change the fact that most of these conditions are quantitative rather than qualitative, and that some people may simply be more something than other people. (Insert obscure reference to the well ordering principle here)

So is there a geometrical connection between language and sound? I think so. Try it: Which is “Booba” and which is “Kiki”?

When you’ve answered correctly - as almost everybody does - go read Khlebnikov’s essay.

Also worth reading (in this context):

• The Man Who Tasted Shapes by Richard M. Cytowic
• Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll
• Quicksilver by Neal Stephenson
• An Essay Towards a Real Character, John Wilkins

References:

• Pusteblume, Spring 2007 edition. Editor: Mathew Kelsey
• Codes, Ciphers and Other Cryptic and Clandestine Communications, Fred B. Wrixon
• The Kanji Dictionary, Spahn & Hadamitzky
• The Mathematics of Lewis Carroll, Smári McCarthy
• Synesthesia on Wikipedia

I’d like to point my weapons for a brief instance at Christmas. The word Christmas comes from the Greek christos (crossed) and the latin missa (from which the Icelandic word misseri stems, which means period). So Christmas is the period of the crossed. Now. In several languages, including the scandinavian languages, the name of this same festival is Jól or some variation thereof (Jol, Jul…). In English: Yule. Anglo-Saxon: Geola. While the origin of Yule is disputed, the word Geola is related to the old Scandinavian month name Góa. Geola is generally translated as Feast, and rightly Góa was a month of feasting although more typicly and famously the month before it - Þorri - was the feasting month. In fact, in Þorri (c.a. coincides with february), modern Icelanders feast in what is called Þorrablót.Blót in turn means worship. It also means to swear (as in, to say rude words). This synonymity stems from when Iceland adopted christianity in the 11th century; pagan worship was publicly banned, but was allowed in secrecy. But blót is related to blŏtan in Gothic, blōtan in Old English, blŏzan or pluozan in Old High German. Related to *flădmen, *bhlād(s)men, etc. Now. From this same basis come the words bless and the word blood. Also, from the same place via other routes: sacrifice, holy, etc.

So. With that established, lets look at what other religions, tribes and regions have festivals, feasts, periods of worship and holy blood sacrifices around this time of year. Just naming a few of the most popular, mind you:

• Hanukkah (Festival of light; Judaism - scattered around Tekufah Tevet, the day of darkness)
• Jól (Feast of worship; Ásatrú)
• Kwanzaa (Fertility festival; African)
• Beiwe (Fertility and sanity; Sami)
• Deygān (Longest day of the year; Zoroastrianism)
• Goru (Harvest festival; Mali)
• DōngZhí (Extreme of Winter festival; Buddhist)
• Inti Raymi (Celebration of the Sun God; Inca)
• Karachun (Winter Solstice; Slavic)
• Makara Sankranti (New Celestial cycle; India, Nepal)
• Meán Geimhridh (Midwinter; Celtic)
• Yaldā (First day of winter; Persian, Iranian)
• Şeva Zistanê (Night of Winter; Kurdish)
• Soyalangwul (Winter solstice; Hopi and Zuni tribes)

There are many more. But do you see the common theme? Solstice. For most winter solstice. For some, summer solstice. Generally, a time of celebration, not because some Jesus guy was born, but because we’ve successfully made it another circle around the sun. The darkness has reached its apex, now light will come anew.

Somebody pointed out to me the other day that in all likelihood Jesus was born in June. I can’t remember the line of reasoning, but it had something to do with the day of taxation that the Nativity story is based around.

So let’s not ruin a perfectly good solstice by worshiping some god, okay? Let’s just take it for what it is: A time for caring, joy and celebration. We did make it another circle round the sun. Right?

I’m a big fan of folklore, and if you are too I recommend reading about Karachun in particular. There’s a really cool folk tale behind it, gods slaying each other and mythical creatures and stuff. There are some awesome stories related to Meán Geimhridh too, but I’m less familiar with them.

(References: Wikipedia, The Catholic Encyclopedia, Collins Latin Pocket Dictionary, and An Introduction to Mysticism; can’t be bothered with details)