Magical thinking–typically considered an archaic mode of cognition that populates the world with animistic forces, hidden dimensions, and evocative incantations–may actually serve us well in the future as we navigate an existence increasingly mediated by digital information.
Read the full post at Brainstorm.
But there are several cases where we’ve already jumped the gun in attributing powers to our tech toys.
Few things annoy me more than when a writer dramatically builds up to a revelation or punchline that turns out to be already obvious. Here’s an example from the Times this week:
In the drawing, a nude man and woman stand on either side of a wall. Each wears a plastic breathing mask that covers the nose and mouth; the masks are connected to air hoses that pass through the wall. The hoses attach to pouches at each other’s underarms and crotches. [OMG they’re huffing each other’s stank!]
It is a device that allows people — and there is no polite way to put this — [Whoa, what’s he about to reveal that’s even cruder than the fact that they’re remotely huffing each other’s stank?!] to sniff each other. Remotely.
Considering how lazy many e-daters are, and how clever many other e-daters are, it should come as no surprise that plagiarism runs rampant in the online dating world. On Friday the Wall Street Journal reported on copycat personal profiles, mentioning that in one survey 9% of respondents admitted to lifting material from someone else, and that lines from some sources appear on dozens of people’s profile pages. In some cases people cop to lack of imagination, but I suspect in others people subconsciously appropriate the sentiments behind the words so as to justify their claims of authorship.
From: "Steve" <redacted@glis.net>
To: <matt@silverjacket.com>
Subject: Is it a secret code?
Date: Mon, 2 Apr 2007 20:00:34 -0400If it is, I guess I’m fucked.
I really shouldn’t care why you can’t seem to spell "skills" correctly – but it seems such a singular error. You don’t misspell "nut-crunching" (although one might argue that a deliberate error, such as "nut-krunching" might convey the agony [the "aggh-oh-neeee"?] more effectively; James Rand had a grandfather who though that "crinkled" should be spelled "krinkled") and you don’t even misspell "dies". "Skills" is the only word you misspell – and you do it absolutely consistently.
So what in Hell is the reason?
Or must I read all preceding installments of the blog? If so, go ahead, look strange.
Once upon a time, I was gratuitously different. Then I grew up.
Eric C. Sanders
tired old fart – who finds the Empathy Theory of Yawn Contagion very persuasive.using the boss’s e-mail address
When I read the above email last night I assumed it was spam–you know that crazy surreal spam spewed onto the nets only to confuse filters–until I got about halfway through, and realized he was referring to something I posted on my blog 15 months ago. (The post described how mirror neurons might engender our "theory of mind skillz" and "empathy skillz" (but less so in people with autism, who must settle for "mad card counting skillz," if they’re lucky.)) So I replied:
Hi Steve,
Please pass the following on to Mr. Sanders. Much obliged.
Eric,
Thanks for reading my weblog. Nope, no secret code. Just a bit of bloggy irreverence. Skillz is a common rapper and hacker spelling of skills. (See http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=skillz.) As it’s often applied to rhyming and fragging (performing well at the rap game or the video games), I found it mildly amusing to apply it to theory of mind and empathy, capacities not advanced through practice, nor thought to enhance street cred(ibility.) In fact, quite the opposite, as wasting fools with style often requires a certain blithe bravado. Well, maybe a rep(utation) for strong theory of mind skillz can garner props (proper respect), as it’s pretty cool to say you’re all up in your opponent’s head, psyching him out, but the use of cog sci terminology still renders the linguistic juxtaposition subtly farcical. And as for autistics with "mad [=significant] card counting skillz," some autistics–the idiot savants– might have stupendous skills, but, god bless em, they’ll never have skillz.
I admit, adding quirk to one’s prose can make one look strange, but that’s how I roll.
Take care,
MattP.S. Are you from Roseville, MI?
No reply today but I’ll keep you posted.
The word "said" is the gold standard when attributing quotes in straight-laced journalism, preferred over "exclaimed" or "stammered" or any other alternative; the reporter remains objective and lets the words speak for themselves. But sometimes "said" just doesn’t cut it. Below are two paragraphs that caught my eye in yesterday’s Times story about parents receiving a letter from a preschool warning that their practice of sending their kids to school in chauffeured SUVs that double and triple park endangers their progeny. I’ve highlighted two instances of "said" and suggested appropriate alternatives.
A public-relations executive, Dan Klores, who owns one of the S.U.V.’s, said he was unaware of Ms. Schulman’s letter. “I don’t have much to do with the place,” he said. “My wife takes my kid by stroller.”
Replacement: "admitted, before blatantly lying."
Reporter: "Hi, I’m a Times reporter. I just saw your child get out of your SUV in front of school." Mr. Klores: "Whatever, you must be on drugs. Plus, I don’t give a shit about my kid’s education."
A parent whom other parents identified as a chauffeur-using mother, Alison Schneider, whose husband, Jack Schneider, is a hedge fund manager, said, "I got the letter, but I don’t really have any feelings about it one way or the other. It’s kind of boring. It’s about cars and parking."
Replacement: "bobbled." Extra points: "bobbled, gum-snappily."
I’m less offended by the moral obliviousness than by the transgression in logic. Anything car related = dull. "Oh, it describes how people might be RUN OVER by cars? Um, BO-RING." Read it again, ma’am. This time, focus. "Wait, my defenseless three-year-old might be run over? Plus, the blood would be on my hands? My god, that’s–ZZZZZZZZZZ….." And scene.
While reading about Willams syndrome, I found this:
One thing [Salk Institute neurolinguist Ursula] Bellugi has documented is the peculiar richness of the Williams child’s vocabulary. For example, when she asked a child with Down syndrome to name all the animals he could think of, the reply was "Dogs, cats, fish, bird, fish." A Williams child of the same age and IQ answered, "Brontosaurus, tyranadon, brontasaurus rex, dinosaurs, elephant, dog, cat, lion, baby hippopotamus, ibex, whale, bull, yak, zebra, puppy, kitten, tiger, koala, dragon."
If I ever build a zoo I will hire a zoo director with Williams syndrome.
I’m tempted to let that just sit there, without comment.
But all you furries out there might waste countless hours searching the nets for the missing frames that would show this "gorping" action more explicitly.
Cool your jets (and put your dry cleaner on hold.) It’s merely a depiction of a video shown to a set of two-year-old test subjects: Fig. 1 from a paper titled "Learning Words and Rules: Abstract Knowledge of Word Order in Early Sentence Comprehension" in the August issue of Psychological Science. Who knew grammar could be so kinky?
But seriously, if you want to find gorping, just ask Moby.
Update: My dear advice-giving friend Liz has now opined on the origin of the furry friend trend. More generally, she advocates:
I Would Vote for a president who runs on anti-meme. How does it work? It works on the same principle as a hybrid — it stores up potential energy. Every time you stop yourself from creating a delightful and idiotic social trend, the energy gets stored in a battery. That battery is around eight pounds, and the presidential hopeful runs around with it, hitting people.
What's that noise? A siren? Do y'all hear the Language Police about to bring the beatdown?
Okay, so, what's the deal with giving two titles to things and placing "or" in between them? Example: A photo labeled "Second attempt to clone mental disorder or How one philosophizes with a hammer." Now, I did write a whole post about how great that photo caption is, but it's great because what comes before "or" and what comes after work together. I have to translate "or" into "and" or a simple colon; otherwise, the synergy dissipates.
Read "or" literally and it's like, well what's the fucking title of your piece? Is it A or B? Let's look at the inverse scenario. You wouldn't pick a single title and then put two separate paintings on the wall and say "Um, 'Dancing Daisies' is this one or that one." You wouldn't publish two novels in the same volume with a big page that says "or" in between and a single title slapped on the cover.
So take a look at this article headline: "The End of Originality Or, why Michael Bay's The Island failed at the box office." Oh, I get to pick what the article is titled? Wheee!
It's like these titles are fucking choose your own adventures. So, yeah, screw the simple "or"; here are selected excerpts from the title of my next abstract expressionist painting: "…Skip To Title 34 for a More Wry Interpretation of This Piece… If You Are Currently Feeling Incensed by Life's Great Injustices You Might Like Something in a… Otherwise Jump to… Not Feeling Any of These Titles Yet? Try… Oh Screw It, Buy the Fucking Thing and Name It What the Hell You Want."
God, why do creative types have to ruin everything?
Yesterday Language Log wrote about Ali G’s interview with Noam Chomsky, which is now on YouTube, so I sent the video link to my friend Sara.
Before leaving work the following IM chat took place:
Sara: that made me laugh real hard.
me: i love ali g
Sara: how can you not love ali g?
me: if part of your head is missing
Sara: oh right that makes sense..it made me laugh especially because for the longest time i thought that oral sex was just phone sex…and then that whole cunnilingual thing.
Sara: hey did you have a good birthday?
me: was ok [I turned 28 on April 14]
Sara: are you sad because you are an old man now?
me: yes
me: but ive always wanted to be a member of the aarp
Sara: dont worry i think youll age well
me: i hope to grow out of my awkward stage
me: into the hotness
Sara: oh i think you are coming along just fine matt. but yeh.
me: thanks
Sara: no problem
OK, pretty regular IM chat, ya? But half an hour later I get home and what do I find in the mail? An erroneously delivered issue of AARP magazine.
Ha ha, very funny Dr. Jung.
Recently I noticed that Brokeback Mountain had spawned a new snowclone: when people want to say that X is gay, they might refer to "Brokeback X." So I emailed Mark Liberman, a linguist over at Language Log, about it, to see what he had to say. And I sent him the first three relevant examples I found, which he initially hesitated to post, deeming them offensive. (What could be offensive about a Broadway show in which Mohammed and his followers pray by forming daisy chains?)
Anyway, here’s his post, with larger commentary on the zeitgeist, and a note on the "competitive high-stakes field of lingua-blogging."
