OH / / NH \ / 2 \____/ \ \ === O / / HO
The problem here is that the sierra doesn't have enough of what we linguists refer to technically as ``oomph.'' Use ``Succotash'' instead.
Even on the best phones, ``ess'' sounds almost indistinguishable from ``eff.'' Most people just use ``Sam'' and ``Frank'' to distinguish these. You can try ``Foxtrot'' and ``Sierra,'' but people will just become confused, so if you're really not going to use the standard Sam and Frank, then you get more mileage from the SBF recommendations (Fandango and Succotash) than from the boring old FCC recommendations.
A symbol related to (s) is the downward-pointing arrow. For reactions that take place in a fluid solution, this indicates that a reaction product ``precipitates out.''
The other two common praenomina are Servius (Ser.) and Sextus (Sex.).
Many volatile sulfur compounds stink, and hell is traditionally scented with the stuff. Thomas Carlyle wrote of Napoleon III
His mind was a kind of extinct sulphur-pit.
(Historically, the predominant spellings in English have used ph. However, today sulfur is the standard spelling in the US and nowhere else in the English-speaking world. You've gotta love it: some patterns are consistent.)
You're not stupid (and even if you are, you prefer to be flattered that you're not) so I don't have to tell you that when S > 1, a solution is supersaturated, and now that I have, you feel condescended to. It's an occupational hazard of glossary compilers.
For a supersaturated vapor, S is the ratio of the gas (i.e., the pressure of the vapor) to the vapor pressure of the liquid phase (at the same temperature). At 0 °C, and atmospheric pressure, one can achieve supersaturations as high as 5 (i.e., relative humidity of 500%) in clean air. [Dirt of any sort nucleates.] Cool it further (increase S by decreasing equilibrium vapor pressure) and homogeneous nucleation takes place (fog).
Their ISU (Internet Services Unit) looks kind of central.
The domain code for Saudi Arabia, as well as the ISO country code generally (SA), is often mistaken for that of South Africa. South Africa's ccTLD is <.za>.
Take care in Italian not to confuse this with S.p.A., or with another S.A.
In Dutch the term corresponding to anonymous society is naamloze vennootschap (NV).
Hello, my name is Al and I am-- I am a logophile. I confess that I am powerless against the overwhelming force of words. The terrible state that my life has reached can be explained completely by words, and yet, so abjectly addicted am I that I still cannot bring myself to renounce words (in so many words), and I continue to resist total abstinence from words. (You may have noticed this yourself.) Finally, let me say that words cannot express my gratitude for the words of support you have given me here today, and for the stories you have shared.
Let's face it, this is ridiculous. The initial A has been enormously over-used in naming continents: Africa, Asia, Australia, North and South America, and Antarctica. (The rare term Southern Antarctica is roughly equivalent to the more common Central Antarctica. The Republic of North Antarctica has a website, but no ccTLD yet.)
The term became well-known in English after the Nazis used it as the name for their paramilitary organization. (It started out as a group of bodyguards for Nazi leaders, and evolved into a uniformed group of street hooligans tasked with intimidating the party's political enemies. Over time, the leadership security tasks were taken over by the SS. After the Nazi party came to power, the socialist-leaning SA worried Hitler's supporters among nationalist businessmen, and posed the threat of a coup. Evidence of a coup plot was manufactured by Himmler and Heydrich for Hitler's edification, just as the SS was being reengineered into a secret police. The SA was decapitated on the Night of the Long Knives (Saturday night to Sunday morning, June 30-July 1, 1934), during which the SS murdered probably a few hundred targets (SA leaders and socialist-leaning members, and scattered conservative potential problems).
The act gave the the US president broad authority to impose a range of economic sanctions and restrictions on Syria. The White House was initially reluctant to use the authority granted in it, but there was an apparent change of policy in early 2005.
The acronym expansion given (in Swedish) above stands for `Swedish Airplane Stock Company.' Hardly anyone now thinks of Saab as an acronym to be expanded, any more than one thinks that of laser. Hence, the company name is now an AAP-assisted pleonasm: Saab Aktiebolag.
SAARC publishes an Encyclopaedia of SAARC Nations, one volume for each country. It has the thick glue and coarse cloth binding that are the marks of any authentic South Asian publication (unkerned fonts are characteristic only for SA publications in Western alphabets). The last and least volume is for the Maldives.
I have to point out that there are some who don't see the wisdom of nonprofit broadcasting. They point out, with some justice, that a small town with only five stations playing top-40 and four playing classic rock'n'roll simply cannot afford to waste spectrum space on a rare musical taste. If fifty percent of the disposable income that is listening to the radio on Saturday afternoon needs to hear Aerosmith's Sweet Emotion, then by God fifty percent of radio stations should be playing Sweet Emotion on Saturday afternoon.
Is that a weird web-page sound effect, or is that my stomach? It's my stomach.
The SABC website gets a lot of its copy from Sapa.
This name is suggestive. In Spanish, sabio is `wise' and sabe is `he knows.'
Also in Spanish, tonto means `stupid' (the word estúpido is also available). Tonto used to call the Lone Ranger ``Kemo Sabe'' (originally spelled ``Kemo Sababay''). It sounds like a gringo mispronouncing quimo sabe, which means `gastric juice knows.' In the early episodes, the Lone Ranger also called Tonto ``Kemo Sabay.'' Actually, quimo (`chyme' in English) refers to the entire mix of stomach juices including partially digested food as well as enzymes and hydrochloric acid. The same word is used in Portuguese. But in Portuguese the word for stomach (estómago) is written without an accent. Can you believe we also have an entry for bolo? No one knows (nadie sabe) what ``Kemo Sabe'' really meant, although there is no shortage of guesses. (That link might expire; google the question.)
You probably thought that quimo meant `chemo.' You complete idiot! ¡Estúpido! The Spanish for chemo is quimio.
Actually, SABI itself (remember SABI?) is a bit of a misnomer. It's a ``news service that covers the South American market and Mexico. SABI provides extensive and comprehensive abstracts of articles from the main business Latin American newspapers. This daily newswire service covers newspapers, business and trade journals from Argentina, Brazil, Bolivia, Chile, Colombia, Ecuador, Paraguay, Peru, Uruguay, Venezuela, and Mexico.'' (My italics.) Then again, in business circles, Miami is half-seriously called ``the capital of South America,'' so it stands to reason. More at the MIA entry.
You know (¿Sabes?), as I was rereading this entry later, I thought that the ``No one knows (nadie sabe) what'' was leading into a ``Shadow'' reference. Who knows -- maybe it was, in a shadowy way. The Shadow knows!
You're probably wondering what colleges are not employers, and who handles admissions and teaching and such at those institutions. Actually, all these ``Association[s] of Colleges and Employers'' are actually associations of colleges and prospective employers of the colleges' graduates.
Oh yeah -- sacrum is cognate with the English word sacred. It's New Latin, short for Late Latin [os] sacrum (`sacred [bone]'), itself a translation of the Greek heiron [osteon]. How this bone came to be considered sacred, I am tempted to say, God only knows.
You can get there by car.
Wait! There are a bunch of student homepages, but I don't see an official page. Found it.
Despite the ugliness of the term, it has not just a usage but a meaning. For examples of the former, see Theories of Human Communication, 4th edn., by Stephen W. Littlejohn (Wadsworth, Belmont, 1992), p. 190 (ch.9).
This cleverly named law was first introduced in the US House of Representatives (as HR 4954) on the 127th anniversary of Einstein's birth. It was signed into law on Friday, the 13th of October 2006. One day and 514 years previously, a sailor aboard the Pinta had sighted land. On the 13th of October 1492, three Spanish ships made port, such as it was, on the Bahamian island of Guanahaní.
|Category||Central Pressure||Wind Speed||Storm Surge||Damage|
|1||>28.94 in. Hg||74-95 MPH||4-5 feet||minimal|
|2||28.50 to 28.93||96-110||6-8||moderate|
|3||27.91 to 28.49||111-130||9-12||extensive|
|4||27.17 to 27.90||130-155||13-18||extreme|
When poly-Si gates began to be used, a clever way was found between the horns of this dilemma. The poly-Si gate is laid down before the source and drain, and the implantation mask contains a window that exposes the whole region from source to drain, including the gate. When the source and drain are created by ion implantation, the MOSFET channel beneath the gate is not doped because it is shielded from the ion beam by the poly-Si gate. The channel (i.e., the undoped region between source and drain) is thus ``self-aligned'' with the gate. [Strictly speaking, the channel is rarely ``undoped.'' It is simply doped to the appropriate level and not further doped by the source and drain implantations. In fact, because of surface states and gettering of impurities to the surface, the channel region may need pre-treatment before the gate is deposited. But in general, the channel is less heavily doped than the source and drain regions.] The self-alignment game also works with diffusion, but not as well: see DSA.
Okay, that was then (as recently as 1997, if my printed source is correct), and this is now. Well, by the time you read this it will also be then. The entry will be more recent, but you will be older. That's what it's all about. This SAGE has become a sealed acronym: ``SAGE - Mozilla Firefox.'' Oops, that was the title bar. It's ``SAGE Services and Advocacy for Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual & Transgender Elders.''
Related links: ASGE, NOSCAR.
Architektur ist überhaupt die erstarrte Musik.
[Architecture in general is frozen music.]
-- Friedrich von Schelling (1775-1854)
in Philosophie der Kunst [Philosophy of Art] (1809)
In Eckermann's famous record of conversation with Goethe, Gespräche mit Eckermann, the 23 Mar. 1829 entry quotes ,,Ich habe unter meinen Papieren ein Blatt gefunden ... wo ich die Baukunst eine erstarrte Musik nenne.'' [I have found among my papers a sheet ... in which I call architecture frozen music.]
In the preceding, I have given standard translations which translate erstarren as `to freeze.' It's worth noting that the semantic fields of the two words are not quite equivalent. The verb frieren is a closer match to its cognate freeze, being the preferred word to describe the solidification of liquid associated with cooling. Although erstarren has a similar meaning, and is used in the expression corresponding to my blood ran cold, it is closer to `gel' or `congeal,' in the sense that lowered temperature is not a necessary component of the concept. Hence, given the ambiguity of such metaphors, a less poetic translation that nevertheless captures different aspects of the original expressions would be ``Architecture is music made solid.''
It is a commonplace among classicists that
A translation is a commentary.(Or ``the shortest commentary'' or ``the best commentary,'' but that seems to imply that it is impossible to have more than one translation.) The mot is often attributed to Wilamowitz (Ulrich von Wilamowitz-Moellendorff). Oral tradition at Oxford attributes it to his student Eduard Fraenkel (``best commentary'' variant), who was at Oxford from 1934.
An article appeared November 14, 2005, in the Arab News (``[Arab] Middle East's Leading English Language Daily'' based in Saudi Arabia), dateline Jeddah: ``Teacher Charged With Mocking Religion Sentenced to Jail.'' A high-school chemistry teacher was sentenced to three years in prison and 750 lashes -- 50 lashes per week for 15 weeks. The lashes are to be given in the public market in the town of Al-Bikeriya in Al-Qassim, so at least he gets out of the prison occasionally. If the article link expires, let me know and I'll put up some more details.
This word is cognate with the Old English word sæl (`hall'). The direct etymons of this word in English petered out early in the sixteenth century, but the Germanic root had been adopted in Romance, giving rise to the Spanish head term (spelled identically in Portuguese and Italian), and salle in French. The Italian augmentative form salone was adopted as salon in Spanish and French, and as salão in Portuguese, eventually giving rise to the English word saloon. Of course, the French salon is also used in English, though it's not completely assimilated. What this little history shows is that even when English loses, it gains. A word may try to sneak out of the language, but one or two of its descendants or cousins a few times removed will be sucked in. Resistance is futile; you will be assimilated.
Okay: the salamis belonged to Assistant Defense Secretary Richard N. Perle. He was regarded as the Pentagon's top arms control expert. He is a gourmet, and like a good Cold Warrior he came prepared. In particular, he came prepared for the reported inadequacy of Reykjavik's restaurants and the expectation of all-night sessions, with the two salamis. He kept them cold by putting them on the window sill of his hotel room (fourth floor), where they were apparently blown off by a storm. Icelandic security guards successfully repulsed the aerial attack. Perle was quoted in an October 15 article as saying that the salamis were ``smashed to smithereens.'' They were ``Hebrew National'' brand.
On April 25, 2004, two teenagers in Lee County, Florida, were arrested on arson-related charges. The unidentified minors (a high school and a middle school student) had reportedly placed an incendiary device in a wooded lot near some houses a few blocks from Interstate 75 in Fort Myers, but it had failed to go off. Local residents were evacuated after it was found, and authorities said it could have started a serious fire. The Southwest Florida Bomb Squad blew up the device around 11 a.m. the same morning.
The device itself sounds like one of those science experiments you do with stuff you find around the house. It consisted of a twenty-ounce beverage bottle filled with ``homemade napalm'' (not clear if this wasn't just gasoline) and two aerosol spray cans, tied together using kielbasa links. News reports described it as a ``kielbasa bomb'' and ``sausages of mass destruction.''
Considering the degree of sophistication of the device, I wonder if they weren't counting on it to become some hungry stray's suicide bomb. The entire episode sounds just stupid enough that it might reflect a technical conception based on sympathetic magic. You know -- soda bottles and spray cans both contain liquids under pressure that can sometimes like, you know, go boom! Did the bomb squad really check the ``homemade napalm'' thing? Maybe this was just a snack: soda, kielbasa, and spray cheese. Yum. (Preferably a diet soda, to neutralize the fat in the other foods.) The brand of kielbasa was not identified.
At 4:30 pm on April 18, 2005, an incident occurred involving sausage as a missile, but no explosive. A 46-year-old man was driving home from work. It was a nice day and he had the window down. As reported by Brian Farmer of the PA, he saw a car coming the other way and suddenly ``felt a searing pain in his nose. He managed to stop his car without hitting anyone else'' and passers-by came to his aid. He had been hit by a frozen sausage. A spokesman for the Essex Ambulance Service said that ``[h]is nose was undoubtedly fractured and he had lost quite a lot of blood ... he decided not to go to hospital but has been left with a very painful and swollen nose.'' The AP reported from London that the Ambulance Service spokesman spoke on condition of anonymity, but this is probably just an interpolated conjecture. According to the Essex Evening Echo, Essex Ambulance Service paramedic Dave Hilton said he had not come across an incident like it in 30 years on the job. The victim's decision leaves me with questions about the UK's NHS. Absent further details on his assailant's vehicle, I suppose that this was a left-handed shot. There was no further information on the sausage.
You know, this kind of story is a headline-writer's bonanza. Here are some of the better headlines under which the last story was reported:
Alright, enough about sausage ordnance. Here's an item out of Massachusetts, a highly advanced blue state. In Newton, a dormitory community for Harvard and some other nearby universities, there was a domestic dispute on January 13, 2005. A woman showed up at about 12:30 am at the home of her ex-boyfriend's female friend. She argued with the two, striking him in the face and kicking him, and threatening to kill her. This story earned its place in this entry on account of the female friend's car. The ex-girlfriend apparently placed several slabs of salami on the trunk of the friend's car. By the time officers investigated, they found the car's paint peeling. According to Newton Police Sgt. Ken Dangelo, chemicals used to preserve the meat had damaged the car's paint job. Initial charges were assault and battery with a dangerous weapon for using the heel of her shoe during the fight (stilettoes?), threats to commit a crime, and malicious destruction of property.
The salt has the somewhat unusual property that the pressure of its liquid-vapor critical point is below atmospheric pressure. Hence, when heated it sublimates. Ancient manuscripts contain a number of recipes for producing sal ammoniac, but many of these appear to be either ignorant or purposely misleading. The primary method for producing it was essentially distillation from camel dung: when camel dung was burned, the smoke contained fumes of the sublimated salt. The salt would condense as a solid white film on a surface (glass was convenient) placed in the smoke. (The salt is water-soluble, but like ordinary salt it does occur in natural deposits. See salmiac.)
I've had a tough time getting ahold of detailed information on camel dung, but it is not surprising that ammonia salts should be present. The camel's unusual and extreme metabolism is adapted to dry conditions, and an important adaptation is to urinate as little as possible. The main reason that mammals urinate is to get rid of the nitrogen waste from protein breakdown various comes indicates the origin. Interconversion among different inorganic nitrogenous compounds is not too difficult metabolically. Birds eliminate nitrogen through the cloaca in the form of uric acid (so wash your car), mammals (most of them, anyway) eliminate it in the form of urea. (I'll have to look it up again, but in the interests of publishing this page soon I'll rely on memory to assert that fish generally eliminate nitrogen through their gills as ammonia.) Many micro-organisms can convert urea and uric acid to ammonia. Presumably camels have evolved ways to eliminate nitrogen in their dung in relatively dry form. It might be eliminated as urea and be converted to ammonium chloride by bacteria in the camel gut.
A lot of camel dung was collected in the deserts east of the Egypt and south of Cyrene. In an oasis of this desert there was a temple of the god Amon (you will recall that Alexander took a side trip there before founding or rechristening the Egyptian port of Alexandria). The desert took its name from that oasis temple, and the salt took its name from the desert.
There were some trivial variants of the term sal ammoniac (including, in English, sal ammoniack, sal ammonyak, sal amoniak, etc.). There is a large subgroup of old names with the adjective beginning in arm- (e.g., sal armaniac, sal armaniack, and even sal armagnac). These seem to have arisen from a Latin spelling hammoniacum (with silent aitch) that was interpreted as a misspelling of harmoniacum.
For centuries, sal ammoniac was used as a cleanser. My grandmother was still using it in pre-WWII Germany. Here's another application:
A race should be held on hard snow. The snow should, if possible, be so hard that no holes are made when contestants fall. If snow falls during the race, the Chief of Course shall ensure that the newly fallen snow be packed or swept from time to time. Course maintenance should be done continuously and indiscriminately throughout an alpine race. Recommended as a snow additive to lower the freezing point and harden the snow is ammonium chloride for above freezing conditions and sodium chloride (rock salt) for below freezing conditions. These preparations should be added to the snow on the course at least one-half hour before race time.
One reference: C. K. Lau, Y. C. See, D. B. Scott, J. M. Bridges, S. M. Perna, and R. D. Davies, IEDM Technical Digest, p. 714 (1982).
Salmiac is found as a sublimate at active volcanoes. (It can also be found at inactive volcanoes if you can just keep it dry.
You can get an idea of how the formation process by pouring out saucers of ammonia and (carefully!) hydrochloric acid, and placing them next to each other. The ammonia vapor and hydrogen chloride gas react to form sal ammoniac:
NH (g) + HCl (g) --> NH Cl (s) . 3 4The salt will precipitate and coat any surface suspended above the saucers (petri dishes would be nice). Use glass or a transparent plastic sheet and see it turn white. Don't wait for it to get thick. If it has any chance of becoming thick, then you've poured out way too much of the reagents. This reaction is not necessarily what is occurring at volcanoes. At normal pressure, ammonium chloride sublimates at 338°C.
Pure NaCl is hygroscopic: it forms a hydrate and cakes. In order to prevent this and allow for smooth pouring, table-salt manufacturers add an ``anti-caking agent'' such as magnesium carbonate.
When salt is used for its hygroscopic properties, the Mg(CO3) is excluded. One such application is in deicing sidewalks and roads: salt is effective both because of the molal freezing point depression of water and because salt is hygroscopic. (A solution of water and salt freezes at a lower temperature than pure water. The molal freezing point depression constant of water is 1.86 C/m. m here stands for molality: a one-molal (1m) solution has one mole of solute per kilogram of solvent.)
Jewish dietary law (kashrut) proscribes the consumption of blood, and so requires animals to be kashered (or, increasingly, ``kasherized'') -- that is, the blood must be removed. ``Kosher salt'' is used for this purpose. It's not called kosher because it's kosher -- all salt is kosher. It's called kosher because it's used to make meat kosher. Since hydration begins at the surface of the salt crystal, coarse crystals keep better. And since this salt isn't intended for sprinkling on food, there's no reason to make it fine, so kosher salt is coarser than table salt. Some people taste and dislike the anti-caking agents in table salt. Frankly, if the salt you're using is going to be dissolved in water before it reaches the table, there's likely no need for you to use table salt. Use kosher salt or pickling salt (same product, different purpose).
Ice cream salt also uses no anticaking agents (and is sold coarse), but since it's not intended for ingestion (it doesn't go in the ice cream; it goes in the ice-water slurry around the ice-cream maker), maybe you shouldstick to the other products for cooking. Popcorn salt is an even finer grade of table salt.
There's a Salt Institute where you can learn more.
The Salt Archive has as its stated purpose ``to collect evidence to support the theory that Common Salt and its short supply from the then known sources had catastrophic influence on the development of ancient civilizations.'' I would take this with a grain.
can be salted in the shell, by applying a salt solution and then drying. To speed penetration of the solution through the shell, a small amount of wetting agent may be added to the water. Generally, pressure and vacuum are applied intermittently to increase the rate at which the solution reaches the interior of the shell.
The idea behind the alternating cycle of pressure and vacuum is similar to the idea behind repeated flushing of a vessel that can't be completely emptied. Since the air inside the unbroken peanut shells can't be completely removed in a single step, it is progressively forced out. At the beginning of a cycle, water might be applied at, say, 120 psi. This is about 8 times atmospheric pressure. (It's going to be exactly 8.000 at some moment as a cold front pushes through after a warm day, okay? We're going to take it as exactly 8 for purposes of explanation.) Assuming (it's a fairly accurate assumption) that air behaves as an ideal gas, then under maximum pressure the gas is compressed to one ninth of its atmospheric-pressure volume. The pressurization is usually applied for about 4 to 8 minutes (that would be about one quarter to one half of a kilosecond, for all you good people who don't understand stuff that isn't in metric units). If this is enough time for mechanical equilibrium to be achieved, then water (incompressible to a good approximation) has filled 8/9 of the initial air volume in the shell.
[I'm also ignoring the fact that the peanut is compressible and that the shell has nonzero thickness. If the peanut is substantially more compressible than water, then the air's fraction of fluid (gas plus liquid) volume is reduced by a factor even greater than 9. I do not have peanut compressibility data handy, sorry. And yes, I'm ignoring the solubility of air in brine and in peanut, and of water in air and in peanut. Look, it's approximate, okay? Science is like that.]
``SonnECK, not sonic.''(You know how ess and eff sound the same over the phone -- people would reply ``Oh, yeah, phonic, sure.'') But they can't win for losing. Now they have to explain that `` `America' is understood to embrace North America, including Central America and the Caribbean, and aspects of its cultures elsewhere in the world.''
You can avoid these problems by joining the Society for EthnoMusicology, but you may have to shift the orientation of your scholarship. (But that's nothing, my friend Lee started out as a composer of art [classical] music, and ended up as a music theorist. It's just as well, he didn't really look like a composer.) Also consider the American Musicological Society (AMS).
A constituent society of the ACLS since 1995. ACLS has an overview.
Talking about music is like dancing about architecture.
-- William Seward Burroughs
-- or maybe Thelonius Sphere Monk, I dunno.
See also the Society of Architectural History (SAH) and the Society of Dance History Scholars (SDHS).
``The Society for Ancient Medicine fosters the scholarly study of ancient medicine broadly understood: not only Greek and Roman medicine, but also ancient Near Eastern, medieval European, Arabic, Armenian, and traditional Indian medicine, and indeed medicine from all pre-modern cultures.''
And then the witch doctor
He told me what to do:
He said that
Oo-ee, oo ah ah ting, tang,
Walla-walla, bing bang --
Oo-ee, oo ah ah ting tang
Walla-walla bang bang!
(``Artist'': David Seville; Song: ``Witch Doctor'')
Alas, there does not appear to be a ``SAMHSARA.''
I'm sure you'll want more. Get it from Calvin Broadus.
Of course this is unbalanced reporting, but it might not be unfair. It can be perfectly reasonable and efficient for journalists to look exclusively for the man who bites the dog. On the other hand, in a large enough universe of men, there will always be some man that bites a dog. To report an event is to imply that it is newsworthy. Hence, in that large universe, to report an instance of something that anyone could predict would be bound to happen occasionally may be understood to imply that it is happening unexpectedly frequently. That is what can make reporters' selective sampling irresponsible and dishonest.
Kurt Schlichter is a lieutenant colonel in the California National Guard. A veteran of the first Gulf war, he's now stateside and commands the 1-18th Cavalry, 462-man RSTA (Reconnaissance, Surveillance, and Target Acquisition) squadron attached to the 40th Infantry Brigade Combat Team. The last media representative he spoke with before I contacted him was a New York Times stringer who wanted Schlichter's help in tracking down guardsmen who were ``having trouble because they got mobilized.''(Quote from ``The 9/11 Generation: Better than the Boomers,'' by Dean Barnett 07/30/2007, Volume 012, Issue 43 Weekly Standard cover story.)
I'd like to add that, refreshingly for a Swiss organization, they don't force you to read everything three or four times (in German, French, Italian, and maybe Swiss German or Romansch). The first time I visited, the default German webpages also had French Doppelgänger (in a folder named frz, presumably for französisch). When I checked again (2006) they'd come up with an even more clever idea: ``All SANAS information is in English.'' Except for scattered titles and links like Nouvelles and züruck. I trust the scholars of Mexico, Quebec, and the Navaho Reservation are up in arms.
To sanction a practice, situation, or event is to approve it officially or formally, while to sanction a country (more often ``to impose sanctions'') is to disapprove using similar authority, typically with the institution of formal impediments. (Trade sanctions are in the news.)
Sanguine, meaning both sanguinary and healthy, is similar to these. In this case as in that of sanction, the usage of the word in its different senses tends to take different forms or have different collocations.
Of course, you knew all this. You may not have been aware that to table has opposite meanings in US and Commonwealth parliamentary usage: In Canada (.ca), a law to be taken up for discussion is tabled -- one imagines the bill placed upon a table for examination. In the US, when discussion of a bill under consideration is to be suspended, the bill is also tabled -- one imagines a bill that was being read to be put down on a table for possible future consideration.
Benjamin Spock, the author, eventually became chairman of the national board, which changed its name to SANE, A Citizens' Organization for a Sane World. The group eventually split over an internal rule excluding members of the Communist Party from also being members of SANE. The Spock faction was against the rule; the Cousins faction in favor. The Spock faction won and the group became marginalized.
Norman Thomas was another prominent member.
This will give you an idea:
Sean Hannity, Rush Limbaugh, Bill O'Reilly, and Laura Ingraham are all Great Americans but they are each, individually and collectively, participating in the destruction of our national political discourse and national existence simply. I make this statement with all due care and regard because each of these media pundits has achieved noteworthy and important attention and audience from a large segment of average Americans. Just a few short years ago, prior to Limbaugh's breakthrough radio program and the subsequent appearance and explosive growth of conservative weblogs, these same Americans were subjected to a steady diet of a monopolized media-generated and media-dominated liberalism. The media-drumbeat in America, and the West generally, advocating directly or indirectly for a Liberal-Progressive World State, has been and continues to be supported by a university-trained Elite corps of ``professorial intellectuals'' and ``experts.'' These Elites in turn very often end up in diplomatic, bureaucratic, and technocratic positions throughout government at all levels, further exacerbating the problem of the Liberal bias in America. Granted, without the Limbaugh and Hannity voices, Dan Rather would still be anchoring CBS; but without the Limbaugh and Hannity rhetorical seduction, Americans would see the danger of the World State as very much imbedded in the discourse of democracy, which is simply another name for the Open Society.
Maybe I should have started with this: ``The far more dangerous Liberal bias is found today throughout the Democratic Party and in the far left advocates of the anti-America crowd as well as the moderate to conservative wings of the Republican Party and even on conservative talk radio.''
From the French sang-froid, `cold blood.'
Sangfroid is a notch above stoicism: you have to be not so much resigned as purposely functional. Also, strictly speaking, sangfroid requires the ability to stay cool through the heat of one's own disaster. It's no trick to be philosophical about other people's tsuris (cf. Schadenfreude).
Can you believe it?! I don't have a Santa Claus entry! Until I can devise a permanent fix for this problem, please visit the (provisional) Moore entry.
Please now pop about three levels off the digression stack.
Because the nasalization of the vowel is difficult to distinguish from a straightforward nasal consonant (and presumably because of aphesis of the final o), o dicionário de Morais (formally Grande Dicionário da Língua Portugesa, 10/e 1949) finds it necessary to warn against the sam and san misspellings of this common word.
On the other hand, the Latin insanus was restricted to mental ill health. This carried over only incompletely to Romance. In Portuguese, insânia and insanidade mean `insanity,' and insano means `insane.' This is the general pattern, certainly for Galician, Catalan, and French. In Spanish too, insania is `insanity,' but insano is `unhealthy' (more specifically, `deleterious to health'). Wait, wait! It's not just Spanish. Italian has settled into the standard pattern, but insàno once also had the sense of `ill, sick.' Anyway, I was trying to make the case that somehow the influence of insanus in Romance was relatively weak, but it's a weak case. Be that as it may, in English, apparently under the influence of the restricted semantic field of insane, the word sane also came to be restricted, referring now only to mental health. Of course, English can afford to be profligate, having other words to cover other portions of the sanus semantic field. For one there's sound, cognate with Dutch gezond, German gesund, and Yiddish gezint. The ge- (written with a yogh in Old English) became a vowel in Middle English (isund, ysonde), at the same time that the aphetic form (ultimately spelled sound) became increasingly common. [A similar process was sometimes arrested before the initial vowel was lost, hence German genug is cognate with enough.]
The convergence of são and São in Portuguese, cognates with sano and San in Spanish, is reminiscent of a similar situation in German and English. The English words hail [the verb], hale, heal, healthy, and whole are all derived from a common source of related words. These may originally have had a principal sense of `healthy' or of `whole' with a connotation of impregnable (think of ``physical integrity''). Through either of these senses the words might have become associated with deity either before or at the beginning of Christian proselytization. Anyway, German has a similar constellation of words, and as it ended up, the noun Heil has among its senses both `salvation' in the religious sense and `well-being.' (As you probably know if you've seen a WWII movie or two, Heil is used as a salutation also, parallel to English ``Hail!'' or Latin ``Salve!'')
As of early 2002, familiarity with SAP and the ability to install it (which includes extracting data from legacy-system records) is one of the dearest (i.e., highest-paid common skills in the IT field.
Nonterminal p-sounds are aspirated by English-speakers. The pi-phi letter combination that is represented ``pph'' in the English word Sapphic (designating, for example, the eponymous style of poetry) was originally also an aspirated p sound. The eff sound represents a corruption in languages that don't observe the aspirated/unaspirated distinction. A similar thing happened with the Hebrew pe (which used a dot to indicate lack of aspiration). Interestingly, with the beyt (which became beta in Greek), aspiration was transformed into a difference in articulation -- the undotted beyt (i.e., aspirated; what is written ``bh'' in transliteraton of, say, a Hindi or Sanskrit word like Mahabharata) is now pronounced with a vee sound. Note that in Hebrew, the b/v distinction is not phonemic except in foreign words that have not been integrated into the language: context determines which allophone occurs. Greek beta is now pronounced vita. So it goes. In Arabic, the b/p distinction of the original Semitic alphabet is absent. (That's discussed in one or two other places in this glossary. If you haven't seen it already, keep reading; it's bound to appear eventually.)
SAPLF publishes a Bulletin, and in 2003 a special issue of the Bulletin was published (volume XII, no. 1, 206 pp., two languages, USD 15 incl. domestic postage), ``devoted to the work of Simone de Beauvoir - a late contribution to the celebration of the 50th anniversary of the publication of Le deuxième sexe.'' The table of contents lists one article entitled ``Pourquoi reparler de Simone de Beauvoir.'' My sentiments precisely. They don't actually come out and say it directly, but I infer that they regard Beauvoir as a philosopher. It's not a problem for me, but this kind of thinking could have consequences.
If you think of a college as being divided into different departments in the same way as a hospital is divided into wards, then SAPLF, with or without surviving in-patients, would be something like an intensive care unit.
For another acronym ending in LF, see INaLF. You know, if the French language were simply eliminated, that would free up a lot of acronyms to be retasked for more pressing purposes. Especially in Canada (to say nothing of Europe).
Arnold Lobel created a series of children's picture books about two pals named Frog and Toad. From their clothes, it is clear that Frog and Toad are both male. (Lobel died of AIDS in 1987, age 54, so there was some talk. You probably want to know: he was survived by his wife, also an illustrator, and their two adult children.) The characters' names presented the Spanish translator, Pablo Lizcano, with a gender problem. All Spanish nouns have grammatical gender, but for most animals, and especially for wild animals, there is a single noun, with a single grammatical gender, for each animal regardless of the number of natural genders that animal exhibits. ``Frog and Toad'' in Spanish is ``Rana y Sapo,'' and while sapo is male, rana is a female noun. Lizcano's solution was to invent the name Sepo, which by the usual rule is male. Quite unnecessarily, it seems, the character named Frog in English (and who somewhat more closely resembles a frog than a toad) has been given the name Sapo (`Toad,' remember?).
Unless, until, and probably even if I write a Matt Groening entry, this here will be the place to mention the Akbar and Jeff thing. They are the principal characters of Groening's ``Life In Hell.'' Here's a snippet of an interview he did for Flux Magazine in 1995:
Flux: let's talk about your `Life In Hell' comic strip. Point blank: are Akbar and Jeff gay?
Groening: Here's my standard reply: Akbar and Jeff are either brothers or lovers--or both. Whatever offends you most, that's what they are. [pause] Yeah, of course they're gay! Big commercial mistake on my part, by the way. A big brewery approached me wanting to have Akbar and Jeff promote their beer. ...
It seems I don't mention it elsewhere, so I'll mention here that translating the lyrics of (appropriately) Madonna's ``La Isla Bonita'' (`the pretty island') poses a gender difficulty also. As I heard it, she whispers the line ``Me dijo que te quiere.'' An accurate literal translation of this would be `He or she told me that he or she wants you [or that he or she loves you, or that you are dear to him or her].' The gender of the third person (he or she) is uncertain -- from that sentence at least. To be honest, not one web page I can find agrees with my recollection of the lyric, and over a thousand web pages disagree with me and claim that the song contains the at-best stilted line ``Te dijo te amo'' (`He or she said to you I love you'). (The Spanish is stilted. The English is less stilted, probably because the Spanish is really gringo. At least a thousand include the merely unusual ``El dijo que te ama'' (`He [or almost It was he that] said that he loves you'). As Gary and I and some graduate students drove to a conference many years ago, I replayed that bit about twenty times in my earphone. I really think that everybody else on the web is relying directly or indirectly on liner notes that may correspond to only one or some of the versions released. Gary says he'll look for the cassette.
Fat is glycerine esterized with a fatty acid at each of its three hydroxyl (OH) groups, and saponification is an ester-to-salt reaction -- something like a strong-base-to-weak-base reaction, where the fatty acid form organic salts with the alkali ions.
Fat for soap comes as a byproduct of meat production. Where exactly the fat is diverted for soap production is a matter of practical economics. Nowadays slaughterhouses divert a fraction of their production. In my grandparents' day, excess fat could be gotten from butchers. Further back, people would trim fat when they carved up their own animals. If you didn't have fat you didn't have soap, and you used an alternative (see QS and almond powder entries). I suppose that in lean years, people went dirty as well as hungry.
See the hard water entry for how soap works or doesn't. It will be clear from that entry that one wants to use soft water for soap production. In the old days, when people normally made their own soap, reverse osmosis and demineralized water were not available. You don't need much water to make soap, so distilling was practical enough (if you already had the still for other purposes), but so was rainwater and some well water.
A quite good soap-making site is part of the Old Timer Page.
The actual process of soap-making can get involved when you consider fragrance (see EO and FO) and color. A central constraint is that fat and lye don't diffuse very well in soap, so the last bit of saponification takes a long time. This can be mitigated by mechanical mixing (blending, stirring) and by using emulsifying agents (like DPG). In the end, soap made with only the minimum ingredients tends to remain harshly basic (pH about 9) from unreacted lye. Mild acids may be used to neutralize the soap, but strong acids just drive the saponification reaction backwards. Some fat may be added late in the process. This is intended not to saponify, but to soften the soap. (You might ask why not just use excess fat from the start. The answer is mostly that by adding fat late, you can use nicer but more expensive oils -- particularly vegetable oils with desirable anti-microbial properties -- without having those oils wasted by being converted to soap with the rest of the oils.)
See also the 99.44 entry.
I don't know what the first pee is doing there, since it's not pronounced.
``Headquarters Air Combat Command (ACC), through the Air Force Rescue Coordination Center (AFRCC), is the single federal agency responsible for coordinating search and rescue activities in the continental United States. [Hawaii and Alaska -- you're on your own.] It also provides search and rescue assistance to Canada and Mexico. Besides coordinating actual SAR missions, the AFRCC is active in formulating SAR agreements, plans and policy for the continental United States.''
A high school pal of mine explained the formula for determining the expected annual family contribution: one quarter of the value of the family home. Of course, that was many years ago, before the big eighties inflation in college costs. That outstripped residential-property appreciation, so the formula must be different.
The book Athens, by Christian Meier, begins with the story of the evacuation of Athens in 480 BCE (ahead of advancing Persian troops, delayed heroically at Thermopylae by a small Spartan rear guard under the command of Leonidas). The Athenians retreated from Attica across the water to Salamis. The maps on the inside front and back covers label this body of water the Sardonic Gulf.
For those who prefer not to contract SARS, as well as for those who would like to attempt suicide by contracting it and spending an unpleasant final week or two on a respirator, a useful piece of information is the incubation period. That is, the time people remain asymptomatic after infection. The incubation period is typically about a week, but has been as long as two weeks in some cases. (In many cases it's impossible to say precisely, since the particular chain of transmission, or at least the moment of infection, is unknown.) So if you want to catch SARS from people who don't seem to have the disease, your best bet is to hang out with people who may have come in contact with the virus in the past week or so. Visit the Middle Kingdom.
This new disease, which flared in Hong Kong in March 2003, was eventually recognized to be the same as the disease that had affected many hundreds of people in neighboring Guangzhou (what we all used to call Canton, and what is also called Guangdong) province of southern China since the previous November. In Guangzhou, and later elsewhere in China, the severity of the outbreak has been repeatedly masked by government censorship, or more precisely by a culture of secrecy and dishonesty.
The largest initial concentration of victims outside Guangzhou province has been in Hong Kong. In Hong Kong, SARS is not called SARS but ``atypical pneumonia.'' BusinessWeek correspondent Bruce Einhorn and others have suggested that the SARS name is avoided because of the similarity to SAR, the technical designation of Hong Kong in terms of its political status. Then again, in Guangzhou, it is also called (the Chinese for) `atypical pneumonia,' which is a reasonable alternative to a not-very-Chinese-pronounceable Roman-character acronym. For more on the acronym, see the next SARS entry. Have a look at the ARS entry as well.
In French, SARS is called syndrome respiratoire aigu sévère as well as pneumopathie atypique. In German it is Schweres Akutes Respiratorisches Syndrom. In Italian, Sindrome Acuta Respiratoria Severa.
Even though you came here to find out about SARS as quickly as possible, you find your attention wandering, and you ask yourself whether ``there could be an etymological connection between the German word schwer and the Latin word severus.'' Semantically, it seems not unreasonable: the German word means `heavy' or `difficult' and the sense can be stretched comfortably to overlap that of the English word severe. The Latin word severus, of course, has meanings close to the English and French terms derived from it. (The English verb sever, OTOH, has a separate Latin etymology.) Coincidentally, I got to wondering the same thing myself, so I hopped on the forklift and went to pull Pokorny off the shelf. Julius Pokorny's book Indogermanisches etymologisches Wörterbuch [English: `Big book of wild-ass guesses'] lists both words, and lists them as coming from distinct (but partly homophonic) Indoeuropean roots. One root (Pokorny p. 1151) is [conjectured to have occurred as] *uer- and *suer-, and had meanings related to `balancing,' hence schwer, `heavy.' The Latin word came from a distinct root (p. 1165) that took forms *uer- and *uer<shwa> meaning `[demonstrating] friendliness.' (Why don't we have a word like that?) This led to words meaning `true' and to the negated form se-verus, `without friendliness.' If you want to defend the claim that linguistics is a science, one of your stronger pieces of evidence is the fact that the conclusions seem ridiculous.
In other SARS-related language news, on April 25, 2003, President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo of the Philippines named her Health Secretary Manuel Dayrit SARS Czar. Why didn't dubya think of that? (Uh, thank you, that suggestion has already been submitted.) Dayrit was given sweeping powers, including the authority to call upon the Armed Forces, the police and other government agencies to compel public compliance and order quarantine, and the power to order the examination of incoming and outgoing vessels and to suspend classes or close schools to prevent the spread of the disease.
In a speech the following May 15, however, President Aroyo was already saying ``[i]lan ba ang biktima ng SARS sa Pilipinas, 10 [actually 12; she was unaware of two newly confirmed cases], ibaba pa sa walo dahil yung dalawa na merong pinadala ang blood test sa Hapon, pagbalik negative pala. Walo ang nagkaroon ng SARS at dalawa ang namatay.'' I felt that you'd prefer to read it in her own words. The English-language publication BusinessWorld felt the same way (``Asian meet held to save SARS-hit travel sector,'' p. 12 of the 16 May 2003 edition).
Another early adopter was Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Co. (TSMC). chairman Morris Chang named deputy chief executive Tseng Fan-chen the company's ``SARS Czar.'' (In Britain there's been talk of question whether a SARS Tsar should be named.)
Data from national health authorities are tabulated daily except Sundays by WHO. Initially, the only explicit indication of freshness of the data was release time, usually a specific hour around 15:00 GMT+1. After April 16, 2003, the tabulations have indicated the date of the latest update for each nation's or region's data.
Under a variety of conditions -- i.e., in a variety of theoretical models -- the numbers of cases and deaths increase exponentially (equivalently, the logarithms of these numbers increase linearly in time) until a substantial fraction of the susceptible population has been exposed. Changes in behavior, treatment, quarantine, or other policy, if effective, should be detectable by a change in the doubling time of either of these numbers. All other things being equal, cumulated statistics should minimize the fractional error due to statistical fluctuations and allow those changes to be detected most clearly. Of course, all things are not equal. In particular, data from the PRC have been inaccurate (falsified at various levels) and have not been timely. Also, the US data have been suspect in a different way. The CDC and WHO case definitions do not correspond precisely, so in its cumulative reports WHO initially treated ``suspect cases under investigation'' from the US as comparable to ``probable cases'' elsewhere. By the WHO report of April 19, this had led to the following anomaly: the US had 220 reported cases, the third-largest number among countries or regions reporting, and no reported deaths. The next three countries were Singapore, Canada, and Viet Nam, with 177, 132, and 63 cases, and 16, 12, and 5 deaths respectively. The next week, CDC physicians stopped uttering inanities like ``we've just been incredibly lucky'' and started reporting probable cases.
The following table gives the cumulative number of cases and deaths as tabulated by WHO. Certain subtotals extracted from WHO's (I had to write that) official reports are given in parenthesis: when numbers appear in a format #1 (#2, #3), #1 is worldwide, #2 excludes all of the PRC other than Hong Kong, and #3 excludes all of the PRC. Furthermore, because I can't find probable-case numbers for the US from the early period, and because the numbers were relatively small, I have recomputed the earlier numbers by excluding the originally reported ``suspected'' numbers and assuming the number of ``probable'' cases was negligible (zero).
|Date||Total cases||log10 of Total cases||Total deaths||log10 of Total deaths|
|2003.05.12||7447 (2434, 751)||3.87 (3.39, 2.88)||552 (300, 82)||2.74 (2.46, 1.90)|
|Sunday, 2003.05.11||no official report|
|2003.05.10||7296 (2412, 738)||3.86 (3.38, 2.87)||526 (291, 79)||2.72 (2.46, 1.90)|
|2003.05.09||7183 (2378, 711)||3.86 (3.38, 2.85)||514 (284, 74)||2.71 (2.45, 1.87)|
|2003.05.08||7053 (2355, 694)||3.85 (3.37, 2.84)||506 (282, 74)||2.70 (2.45, 1.87)|
|2003.05.07||6903 (2343, 689)||3.84 (3.37, 2.84)||495 (276, 72)||2.69 (2.44, 1.86)|
|2003.05.06||6727 (2318, 672)||3.83 (3.37, 2.83)||478 (264, 71)||2.68 (2.42, 1.85)|
|2003.05.05||6583 (2303, 666)||3.82 (3.36, 2.82)||461 (255, 68)||2.66 (2.41, 1.83)|
|Sunday, 2003.05.04||no official report|
|2003.05.03||6234 (2263, 642)||3.79 (3.35, 2.81)||435 (245, 66)||2.64 (2.39, 1.82)|
|2003.05.02||6054 (2255, 644)||3.78 (3.35, 2.81)||417 (236, 66)||2.62 (2.37, 1.82)|
|2003.05.01||5865 (2227, 627)||3.77 (3.35, 2.80)||391 (221, 59)||2.59 (2.34, 1.77)|
|2003.04.30||5663 (2203, 614)||3.74 (3.33, 2.77)||372 (213, 56)||2.57 (2.33, 1.75)|
|2003.04.29||5462 (2159, 587)||3.74 (3.33, 2.77)||353 (205, 55)||2.55 (2.31, 1.74)|
|2003.04.28||5050 (2136, 579)||3.70 (3.33, 2.76)||321 (190, 52)||2.51 (2.28, 1.72)|
|Sunday, 2003.04.27||no official report|
|2003.04.26||4836 (2083, 556)||3.68 (3.32, 2.75)||293 (171, 50)||2.47 (2.23, 1.7)|
|2003.04.25||4649 (2048, 538)||3.67 (3.31, 2.73)||274 (159, 44)||2.44 (2.20, 1.6)|
|2003.04.24||4493 (2017, 529)||3.65 (3.30, 2.72)||263 (153, 44)||2.42 (2.18, 1.6)|
|2003.04.23||4288 (1983, 525)||3.63 (3.30, 2.72)||251 (145, 40)||2.40 (2.16, 1.6)|
|2003.04.22||3947 (1946, 512)||3.60 (3.30, 2.71)||229 (137, 38)||2.36 (2.14, 1.6)|
|2003.04.21||3861 (1902, 500)||3.59 (3.28, 2.70)||217 (131, 37)||2.34 (2.12, 1.6)|
|Sunday, 2003.04.20||no official report; US data included above (later than) this date|
|2003.04.19||3327 (1815, 457)||3.52 (3.26, 2.66)||182 (117, 36)||2.26 (2.07, 1.6)|
|2003.04.18||3253 (1771, 444)||3.51 (3.25, 2.65)||170 (105, 36)||2.23 (2.02, 1.6)|
|2003.04.17||3190 (1733, 436)||3.50 (3.24, 2.64)||165 (100, 35)||2.22 (2.00, 1.5)|
|2003.04.16||3100 (1668, 400)||3.49 (3.22, 2.60)||159 (95, 34)||2.20 (1.98, 1.5)|
|2003.04.15||3042 (1624, 392)||3.48 (3.21, 2.59)||154 (90, 34)||2.19 (1.95, 1.5)|
|2003.04.14||2995 (1577, 387)||3.48 (3.20, 2.59)||144 (80, 33)||2.16 (1.90, 1.5)|
|Sunday, 2003.04.13||no official report|
|2003.04.12||2794 (1485, 377)||3.45 (3.17, 2.58)||119 (61, 26)||2.08 (1.79, 1.4)|
|2003.04.11||2724 (1415, 356)||3.44 (3.15, 2.55)||116 (58, 26)||2.06 (1.76, 1.4)|
|2003.04.10||2627 (1337, 339)||3.42 (3.13, 2.53)||111 (56, 26)||2.05 (1.75, 1.4)|
|2003.04.09||2573 (1293, 323)||3.41 (3.11, 2.51)||106 (53, 26)||2.03 (1.72, 1.4)|
|2003.04.08||2523 (1244, 316)||3.40 (3.09, 2.50)||103 (50, 25)||2.01 (1.70, 1.4)|
|2003.04.07||2460 (1192, 309)||3.39 (3.08, 2.49)||98 (45, 22)||1.99 (1.7, 1.3)|
|Sunday, 2003.04.06||no official report|
|2003.04.05||2301 (1081, 281)||3.36 (3.03, 2.45)||89 (40, 20)||1.95 (1.6, 1.3)|
|2003.04.04||2253 (1033, 272)||3.35 (3.01, 2.43)||84 (35, 18)||1.92 (1.5, 1.3)|
|2003.04.03||2185 (995, 261)||3.34 (3.00, 2.42)||79 (33, 16)||1.90 (1.5, 1.2)|
|2003.04.02||2151 (961, 253)||3.33 (2.98, 2.40)||78 (32, 16)||1.89 (1.5, 1.2)|
|2003.04.01||1735 (929, 244)||3.24 (2.97, 2.39)||62 (28, 12)||1.79 (1.4, 1.1)|
|2003.03.31||1563 (757, 227)||3.19 (2.88, 2.36)||59 (25, 12)||1.77 (1.4, 1.1)|
|Sunday, 2003.03.30||no official report|
|2003.03.29||1491 (685, 215)||3.17 (2.84, 2.33)||54 (20, 10)||1.73 (1.3, 1.0)|
|2003.03.28||1434 (628, 203)||3.16 (2.80, 2.31)||53 (19, 9)||1.72 (1.3, 1.0)|
|2003.03.27||1363 (557, 190)||3.13 (2.75, 2.28)||53 (19, 9)||1.72 (1.3, 1.0)|
|2003.03.26||1283 (491, 175)||3.11 (2.69, 2.24)||49 (18, 8)||1.69 (1.3, 0.9)|
WHO SARS alerts, advisories,
and situation updates:
May: #51, #50, #49, #48, #47, #46, #45, #44.
April: #43, #42, #41, #40, #39, #38, #37, #36, #35, #34, #33, #32, #31, #30, #29, #28, #27, #26, #25, #24, #23, #22, #21, #20, #19, #18, #17, #16.
March: #15 (alt. vers. of #15), #14, #13, #12, #11, #10, #9, #8, #7, #6, #5, #4, #3, #2, Update #1, first travel advisory, first alert.
Here's a flash from April 2005: ``The South African Revenue Service (SARS) today launched its most innovative taxpayer education approach to date -- a fictional cartoon character, Khanyisile Khumalo, conceptualised to be an effective and personalised communication tool in its drive for sustainable taxpayer education.'' I'm so excited! Khanyisile, meet Microsoft Bob.
Although South Africa has eleven official languages, most tax forms on line appear to be available only in English. That seems enormously unfair. Why do they only tax English-speakers? The forms for filing an objection or an appeal are available in separate English and Afrikaans versions. The estate tax and retirement fund tax forms, and forms related to trusts and directives, are the majority of bilingual (English and Afrikaans) forms available on line. Hmm.
For tax information in Afrikaans, a good bet would be to google on "Suid-Afrikaanse Inkomstediens" (SAID). The name is apparently Uphiko Iwezimali Ezingenayo eNingizumu Afrika in Zulu and Tirelomatlotlo ya Afrika-Borwa in Tswana, but there doesn't seem to be a lot of online tax help in those languages.
Acute, in medical usage, implies sudden onset. The onset of anything implies some degree of severity, so the word acute is sometimes used loosely to mean severe. In my experience, however, physicians are pretty consistent in keeping to precise usage: acute is distinguished from chronic, and severe is distinguished from mild. To have called a disease ``sudden acute foo'' would have been redundant.
I probably wouldn't have put this entry in but for the resonance with the completely unrelated SATOR.
In detail, what happened was that a group was put together in Cambridge, UK, to create a new Authorized Version for the Church of England, to succeed the earlier Authorized Version (the KJV), with more modern English expression and revised understanding based on research and creative speculation in the intervening nearly three centuries. They were eventually joined by an American Revision Committee, but it was agreed that the Episcopal Church in America would not authorize any other edition for fourteen years after the work was completed. In return, the Americans got an appendix listing their demurrers at the end.
The English group disbanded after finishing its work in 1885. The American Revision Committee officially began work to issue an American edition in 1897. (This reminds me of presumptive 1984 Democratic Presidential candidate Fritz Mondale insisting that he had not yet begun to think about whom he might consider as a running mate.) The American committee finally wrapped up in 1901.
Work on an updating of the SARV began in 1959, and was able to take advantage of some of the earlier work on the Dead Sea Scrolls, and work on cognate Semitic languages. (For an example of how the latter can be useful, see the the entry for Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat.) The revision of the revision was published in 1977 as the New American Standard Version (NAS). I love that word standard. Many other Bible versions are based on the SARV.
SAS code-shares with Cimber Air, a regional carrier. (We took a large propeller airplane from Copenhagen to Wroclaw.) They pronounce Cimber with a hard cee, like ``KIM-bur.''
It sounds like Air Mail Special Delivery to me (it probably is sometimes). The British Post Office used to manufacture lasers. The persistence of original names of British delivery organizations leads to confusion.
China National Offshore Oil Corp (CNOOC), Shenhua Group, and China Shipping Group led the list of 25 SOE's that were graded A. Grades of B and C were given to 141 companies. Nine were in group D for failing to meet some performance targets, and four unidentified companies received a grade of E for poor management and poor (i.e., discovered) faking of financial reports.
On one hand, grade inflation does not seem to have had as great an impact here as in US education. Then again, China Southern Airlines, plagued by financial ethics scandal, only dropped from B to C. In August 2005, police arrested its vice-president, Peng Anfa, on charges of embezzling and accepting bribes. Because of major accidents at their production facilities, China Coal Group was downgraded from A to B, and Sinohydro Corp from B to C.
The reality is that most such institutions are not really very selective, and many that require these tests needn't, since they'll accept pretty much anyone with a high school diploma. Students planning to go to these schools are paying the $28 test fee (in 2004) only to flatter their schools' conceit that they can afford to turn someone away. (Japan has a similar situation, but handles it slightly differently. Most schools use a common entrance exam which pretty rigidly determines which students will go to the University of Tokyo, which to the second-best school, and so forth down through the seven or so clearly ranked schools. Because the system is so transparent, it would be difficult for the least selective schools to participate and disguise the fact that they really exercise no discrimination among applicants other than not enrolling those who can't pay. For this reason, a number of schools write and administer their own independent entrance examinations, offering them at schools in areas from which they hope to recruit. We would call it saving face.)
Nevertheless, a large minority of students do want to enter the small minority of schools that can afford to be selective. (In the US -- we're back to discussing US students and US schools.) The professional duty of admissions officers at selective US schools is to engage in two related deceptions:
The purpose of the first deception is to pump up the number of high school applicants. The number of admissions slots is essentially fixed, so increasing applications decreases the acceptance rate in inverse proportion, making the school seem more selective. No one asks about the SAT scores of rejected applicants, so getting another numbskull to apply is all gravy for the school's reputation. (You think those highminded educational institutions are above all that? Check yer wallet, fellah', and see ``marketing'' below.) Heck, maybe they can turn a tiny profit on admission fees.
Separately, a good ``yield'' -- a high fraction of admissions offers accepted -- is also desirable though less important. The instrument for improving this number is the school's early-decision program.
The purpose of the second deception (that many factors blah blah) is to support the first deception. An admissions officer who knows a student's SAT scores, high-school GPA, and ethnic or racial group can easily estimate whether the student is likely to be admitted. Often just one or two of these data will be sufficient to pretty much guarantee a yes or a no. It is true that, as conscientious admissions officers are bound to emphasize, all sorts of considerations like charitable work, unique experiences or difficulties overcome, strength of teacher or alumni recommendations, the weather on the day the officer's work-study reads the applicant's file (okay, don't emphasize that) all play a role in determining which students get in. It is also true that they rarely play this role. It's a simple matter of logistics. Say you have ten thousand applicants for -- never mind the rest: ten thousand applications is ten thousand applications! I've never graded more than fifty exams at a time.
In 2004 or so the content and format of the SAT were changed. As you understand from the foregoing, the details of the exam are really only important to a fortunate few and an unfortunate few more, all going crazy in the year before graduation, so I haven't been feeling like updating this entry. Herewith, then, a very incomplete history of The Test.
The two principal parts of the exam, ``Verbal'' and ``Math,'' are timed multiple-choice exams graded on a scale of 200 to 800. There's also a writing test, described at the GRE entry.
A raw score is determined by a simple formula (explained at the 200 to 800 entry) that deducts a little for wrong answers. In this way, a test-taker who guesses wildly and one who just enters no answer will do equally well on average. (Someone who can eliminate some possible answers will tend to get credit on educated guesses.) The reported score was initially just this raw score, which was approximately normally distributed with a mean close to 500. Over time, performance on the test has varied. (Umm, you're to understand that means performance has declined.) Now the score is computed by massaging or curving the raw score by using a look-up table translation, so that the distribution of scores resembles a normal curve with a mean close to 500. Because raw scores have been declining, an April 1 (really!), 1995 readjustment of the scoring algorithm has made it possible to obtain an ``800'' on the verbal test with four wrong answers. This is partly due to a fetish that ETS has about not giving a ``790.'' As a result, there was a sharp increase in the number of 800's (and of scores in general) in 1995. [It is possible to receive a score of 790 on an achievement test (now called SAT II). Or at least, it has been possible. In 1974 I ran out of time, guessed ``B'' for the last five questions on the Chemistry achievement test, and got a 790.] The new SAT scoring was discussed in a NYTimes article, 1995.07.26, page B6: ``When Close is Perfect: Even 4 Errors Can't Prevent Top Score on New S.A.T.'' byline James Barron. Not mentioned in that article was the fact that the readjustment moved scores in what used to be the middle range of ability by about 100 points -- old combined SAT scores of 840 or 940 are roughly equivalent to new SAT I scores of 960 or 1030.
A popular history of the SAT appears in two parts by Nicholas Lemann in The Atlantic Monthly, August (``The Structure of Success in America'') and September (``The Great Sorting'') issues 1995. The Atlantic has carried a number of articles on student testing, including another primarily on the SAT and other College Board tests in the February 1980 issue, by James Fallows.
In late March or early April 1995, the Wall Street Journal revealed that many schools inflate their students' average SAT scores for student guides in Money magazine and US News and World Report. Names were named. One university admissions director explained that this was a ``marketing strategy.'' [See the NYTimes 1995.04.09 article, Frank Rich byline.]
Also in 1995, the official expansion of SAT was changed to Scholastic Assessment Test. This name change addresses a major problem. The SAT is essentially an IQ test. The intention when it was originally designed (in the 1930's) was to measure ``intelligence,'' conceived as an innate attribute of the testees. The particular application was to help Ivy League schools identify ``diamonds in the rough'' -- smart kids (boys) who had not had the advantages of a prep school education. Over time, the testers' thinking evolved. Now most psychologists and psychometricians regard ``intelligence'' as something profoundly influenced by both genetic (i.e., ``innate'') and environmental factors. The tests have not changed (much, since the 1940's) and thus what they measure has not changed. The tester's idea of what it is that the tests measure has changed, but out of pride and a certain professional reasoning (that whatever they can measure is what ought to be called intelligence), the testers continue to use the same terms to describe the measured datum: ``intelligence,'' ``aptitude.'' In principle, none of this need ever have been a problem if only professionals were ever involved. (In fact, the College Board wanted to prevent testees from knowing their own test scores, but abandoned the effort in the early 1950's.)
The ninth edition (``Stanford 9'') replaced the eighth (``Stanford 8'') in 1997. The new version was not normed against the old, even though the calculations are trivial for the test designer to do. This non-norming makes it difficult to compare older scores and see how badly achievement is declining over the long term. That's a feature, son, not a bug.
You've heard about it -- there was a big to-do on its first release (1995-04-05). It's supposed to be a two-edged sword, helping intruders as well as security administrators. Nevertheless, the open doors it looks for are so well-known and easy to walk through that it basically just helps the halt and lame of both communities. Since it reports problems without directly enabling the SATAN user to exploit them, the Stammtisch unanimously agrees that it primarily serves as a useful warning to security-challenged sysadmins while creating the smallest possible increase in danger from newbie intruders.
To save money (dinero), whether at a bank (banco) or a sale (venta), is ``ahorar dinero.'' To save a life is ``salvar una vida.'' (Salvavidas is a `lifeguard,' but a guard in the usual sense -- the kind with a gun or truncheon or persuasive demeanor -- is a guardia.) To save (something) for later is guardar para después, although guardar also means `put away.' The verb guardar seems to have taken on the meaning of save in computer contexts. See also the knickerbocker discussion in this K entry.
A Message from the President in the newsletter from August 2001, Pres. Amy Thurmond, MD, observes: ``Ten years ago when the first fellowship in women's imaging was offered the concept was controversial and debated. Now more fellowships are being offered, jobs specifically for women's imagers are advertised, and the American College of Radiology Appropriateness Criteria Task Force includes a section on women's imaging.''
There don't appear to have been a great many scientific studies of the effectiveness of saw palmetto, but some results have been quite encouraging. In the largest study to date, the researcher (Jane) leaned over the railing looking over the crowded center of a big shopping mall and shouted ``Any man here who's still having trouble getting it up after taking saw palmetto?'' and determined that the wonderberry is 100% effective. Vide ED.
Also, it's recommended by talk-show host Larry King, who would lose count of his ex-wives if he didn't have the bills to pay. Because this is a celebrity endorsement, an FCC regulation requires that the endorser have actually used the product.
Joe Namath was the legendary quarterback of the New York Jets, famous from the start with his sensational half-million-dollar signing in 1965 to the upstart AFC. He brashly predicted victory over the heavily favored Baltimore (later Indianapolis) Colts of the NFC in Super Bowl III (Jan. 12, 1969), and he delivered (final score 16-7). Gimpy knees and multiple leg surgeries forced him into retirement in 1972. In 1974, a television ad aired that pans along a pair of pantyhosed legs, upward to reveal jersey #12 and Joe Namath. In his attenuated Alabama drawl, Broadway Joe says ``Now I don't wear panty hose, but if Beautymist can make my legs look good, imagine what they'll do for yours.''
Did he really wear pantyhose, or just nylon stockings? What kind of name is ``Beauty Mist''?
They've been shacked up over a year, and the day after her birthday he gives her three dandelions. Remember: he's just a guy, he can't be expected to understand about flower stuff.
``Geez, I'm just a guy. I dunno the flower color code!''Besides, yellow is his color. Time for Mark's Apology Note Generator.
Second date. She admires his mind, his mind admires her butt. One dozen long-stem red roses.
``Whuddaya mean `get the wrong idea'? They're pretty flowers. Dontcha like flowers?''
There's a popular cartoon about forbidden romance -- a wolf and a sheep. Silhouetted against the night sky, they meet secretly. He brought flowers, she eats them appreciatively.
The Roberts & Etherington Dictionary of Descriptive Terminology for Bookbinding and the Conservation of Books claims that antimony is black in its amorphous form, and has been used in this form since the late seventeenth century to blacken the edges of book pages. Trust me, no elemental metal is widely available in amorphous form. It's finely divided (powder in suspension), and most metals look black if divided finely enough.
The atomic number of antimony is 51. Learn more at its entry in WebElements and its entry at Chemicool.
The local UHF television stations are WNIT, WSBT, and a couple of others that I'll fill in as I remember them.
Maybe it's used more generally for filters?
Like most people, I watch the SB for the ads and the frantic half-time show. In 2004, I noticed that one of the most irritating sponsors was hawking a drug that is pushed by some of the most irritating spammers. During half-time, the crotch-grabbing was generally tame by current rap-video standards. More than a couple of the performances featured partial disrobing. It didn't get a rise out of me. I watched that half-time show on a wide-screen TV in a room with a dozen or so Catholic-university students. On a scale of 1 to 10, where 7 was the reaction to the end-zone interception of a Tom Brady pass, Janet Jackson's Justin-Timberlake-assisted tit-flash rated a 0. (But it did merit recognition in the degradation entry.) And the people who get a kick out of mock violence against women probably weren't rolling on the floor after the horse-fart commercial either.
In 1972, I missed getting extra credit on Mr. Coulter's Electronics exam because I didn't know that S.B. stood for Super Bowl. Don't let this happen to you if you can possibly avoid it.
Also of interest: the (nongovernment) Small Business Advisory, CENA and NASE.
You know, the more colleges have a kind of farm system too: they'll recruit players who may not be academically eligible or athletically quite so desirable, and get them into a cooperative junior college. For example, Indiana University (in Bloomington, Indiana) and University of Nebraska (in Lincoln) and other schools have sent players to Iowa Western. Iowa Western Community College is in Council Bluffs, IA. Their teams are known as the Reivers, which apparently are some sort of river pirate.
Another popular school of this sort is MCI, Maine C--- Institute (forgot the name, can't find a listing, this is bad). Oh well, then, let's have a link to NJCAA (National Junior College Athletic Association).
Here's an image of a small school bus.
Some curiosity has been expressed regarding the significance of our name,
but not really that much. The etymology of Tisch is given at the fisk entry.
Some curiosity has been expressed regarding the significance of our name, but not really that much. The etymology of Tisch is given at the fisk entry.
The first-phase contract was won in 1993 by a consortium led by IBM Federal Systems, which was sold to Loral.
Closely associated with the American Academy of Religion (AAR).
The Old SBN's are nine digits long, and become ISBN's by the addition of an initial zero: in the ten-digit ISBN, the first digit identifies a country or group of countries; zero (as well as one) is number for the English group, including the U.S., U.K., Canada, Australia, and New Zealand.
One effect of all this is to make housecleaning more glamorous and high-tech than it's been since the widespread introduction of jet-age ``labor-saving'' devices during the fifties, the golden age of home appliances. (Vide remote control.)
Sick Building Syndrome is also called Tight Building Syndrome (I haven't seen ``TBS'' used as an acronym in this connection, though.) I like to think of this as related to the slang sense of tight as drunk; unfortunately, the etymology is related to `air-tight.' Increased care to seal-in temperature-regulated air began in earnest during the oil crisis/embargo of 1973 [a war measure imposed by medieval Persian-Gulf states (GCC) to punish the US for supporting Israel's effort to remain in existence]. Energy-saving measures have meant that indoor pollutants accumulate to higher levels. The claim is bruited about that it's now ten times (or a hundred times, or a thousand times; i.e. much) more dangerous to be indoors than out. In 1994, UB became a non-smoking campus, meaning that you can't smoke indoors. Since then, the entry areas to building have become a million times more dangerous than the indoors.
The new chemistry building on the north campus has one chimney per fume hood, emerging as a silvery stack at the top of the building. This is now the most recognizable building on campus. If you remember that it looks like a chocolate-and-mocca layer birthday cake for a centenarian, you can't miss it.
A smart battery system is a peripheral device that communicates with the system it powers. In addition to one or more ``primary'' bateries, it includes testing and recharging components, all controlled through a smart battery management system. It looks like batteries have pulled ahead of toasters in the race to be the smartest dumb device.
PowerSmart and ON Semiconductor sell smart battery IC's.
Learn more at its entry in WebElements and its entry at Chemicool.
The five permanent members are the ``victorious powers'' of WWII: China (.cn), France (.fr), Russia (.ru), the United Kingdom (.uk), and the United States.
When Nixon made the ``opening'' to (Mainland, Red, Communist) China, Taiwan (.tw) was tossed out of the UN and the People's Republic took its place. When the old Soviet Union (.su) collapsed, Russia kept the old seat.
There is agitation from various sides to change the present system. Many nonaligned nations want to end the veto power of the permanent members. Some larger nonaligned nations (India, and some others such as uhh, well, anyway, India is one) want a permanent added member from the third world. The West is basically ignoring all that and pondering whether to add Japan and/or Germany.
The Villanova Center for Information Law and Policy serves a page of South Carolina state government links. USACityLink.com has a page with some city and town links for the state.
SC uses the epithet ``The Premier College of Kansas.'' Even this modest self-assessment might be contested by other Kansas institutions. Hmmm: the ``premier'' claim is in little letters on the logo. Maybe it's just an official part of the name and they're actually trying to soft-pedal it. Lessee, the page for Professional Studies Centers states without false modesty ``[a]s the recognized leader in non-traditional education, Southwestern College has made completion of bachelors degrees convenient, accessible, and job focused.'' What I want to know is, do they offer degrees in premiering? According to this page, they have degrees in Business Administration, Criminal Justice, Nursing, and Pastoral Studies majors (among others). Heck, skip the tedious education step and just be president.
More than 33% of university officers that were listed on this now-defunct page were named David, sort of like a Wendy's commercial.
``Southwestern College is accredited by ... the University Senate of the United Methodist Church ...''' and other organizations.
For the imaging of semiconductor devices, there is a special kind of specimen-current-based imaging method called EBIC (electron-beam--induced current). This uses the fact that most of the energy lost by an electron beam passing through a semiconductor device goes into the ionization of atoms in the semiconductor (that's where the secondary electrons come from). In device terms, that means that the electron beam generates a highly localized density of holes (on the order of thousands per electron in the primary beam). EBIC generates an image using the specimen current measured through an ohmic or Schottky contact. (That's right: as the capitalization indicates, Ohm's identity has been submerged in the Nachlaß of his work; Schottky's hasn't been, yet.)
Here are some electron micrographs.
The Net Advance of Physics site has some entries in this category.
After you've spent the best part of your academic career burnishing your creative (``and how'' mutter the medievalists) medieval (or mediaeval) credentials, you may feel a need to fill the resultant lacuna in your academic vita. A typical way to recycle your experience is to include something like
Rose to position of treasurer in SCA, a foobar organization.
The problem is always: what to write for foobar. Some anachronists have so much trouble deciding on an appropriate description that they send out an incomplete résumé, and the interviewer asks them ``What's a `foobar' organization?'' This is not a turn you want your interview to take. If you feel uncomfortable using the F-word (`fe*dal') in the groveling-for-a-job context, then you could just leave `SCA' unexplained and unexpanded, or get a job through your SCA connections and start a little fiefdom locally. Alternatively, you can do the honorable thing, taking courage from the melees you've survived, and display your true colors. Ideally, you go to work for Disney.
I'm sorry, I guess I just don't have any good solution for this problem. Fundamentally, the difficulty is that you want to define precisely the quantity of attention that the reader of your vita devotes to this item: enough to notice some extent of experience, not enough to strain his or her limited tolerance for weirdness. You know that time and chance happeneth to them all, so precise control does not obtain.
You know, in one sense the SCA is the least governmental of NGO's. It survives on voluntary contributions by its members rather than on government subsidies, and it doesn't attempt to speak on anyone else's behalf in the councils of government.
People interested in this SCA might also be interested in the Hoplite Association.
A few years ago, some students at SCAD were so unhappy that it made national news, but I only had a link here instead of an explanation. Now (2007) I can't remember what it was all about. It probably had to do with crime, because the main campus of SCAD is in a high-crime area of Savannah. But maybe it was because of faculty issues. Faculty at SCAD generally do not have tenure, but work on one-year contracts.
SCAD was founded in 1978 with 71 students. By 2004, with about 7000 students, it was the largest art college in the US. It occupied more than 50 buildings totaling more than 1.5 million square feet, and was credited with helping to revitalize Savannah's historic district, restoring buildings that were either vacant or in disrepair. I think I can begin to see how the high-crime thing happened to come about. That year, it started scouting sites in metro Atlanta where it could open a satellite campus called SCAD-Atlanta, that would offer graduate and undergraduate courses in ``advertising design, animation, architectural history, art history, broadcast design and motion graphics, and interior design.'' It eventually selected a site that was just a short walk away from the campus of the Atlanta College of Art, which happened to be struggling at the time. The next year, months after celebrating its centennial, ACA was absorbed into SCAD-Atlanta.
For example, Eugene Onegin is in fourteen-line iambic tetrameter, with the
ABAB, CCDD, EFFEGG.The pattern of masculine and feminine rhymes is systematic as well, following
FMFM, FFMM, FMMFMM.
This glossary passes along traditional mnemonics for dactylic hexameter and dochmiac meter. This glossary also has an entry pointing you to the electronic journal Versification, but if you found the rest of this entry informative, you may find that journal a bit advanced.
Here's a nice introduction to Latin scansion.
I was at a writers'-group meeting a while back and silently corrected ``scars'' to ``scares'' on my copy of a draft under discussion, then laughed when I realized that it was supposed to be ``scarce.'' The writer explained that she couldn't remember how to write the word she wanted, so she just left it wrong.
It ain't ``rouge,'' it's Science and Technology!
The Spring 2004 issue of Horizons (volume 31, no. 1) had a section entitled ``College Theology Society Fiftieth Anniversary Essays.'' The first essay, ``Present at the Sidelines of the Creation'' (pp. 88-93) is by Gerard S. Sloyan. This is a different Gerard from my pal mentioned at the Diogenes entry, just so you know. Sloyan writes
As to what brought the [society] into existence, it was not so much the generally jejune character of the classroom teaching of religion based on the seminary courses and textbooks available as it was the professional feelings of the men and women engaged in the work. They knew that they were poorer prepared at the graduate level than faculty members in other departments. Some of the priest teachers doubled in brass as chaplains of women's colleges (and some in colleges of men), a detail that led colleagues to discount their academic seriousness. A lack of respect came from another quarter. The various religious brother, sister, and regular and secular clergy college presidents invariably had doctorates in other fields. This coupled with their remembered formation in a religious institute or seminary, qualified them in their own minds as knowing more about what should be going on in religion departments than the people instructing several sections of fifty students and more. They knew it had to be inferior because its practitioners had never written a Ph.D. dissertation like them. [I never realized that college presidents were like Ph.D. dissertations!]
He mentions later that the early agitators who brought the SCCTSD into being were primarily members of groups in Washington, New York, and South Bend. Interestingly, the South Bend group were not at Notre Dame but at its sister institution, Saint Mary's College, and at River Forest House of Studies.
There was a real contest among textbooks, and one of the entrants mentioned was ``Theodore Hesburgh, a young instructor at the University of Notre Dame.'' As I sit here typing this glossary entry at the Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh, C.S.C., Library, late one Summer evening in 2004, retired university president Father Hesburgh is probably still at work in his office twelve floors above me. (Fr. Hesburgh was university president from 1952 to 1987. This is probably as good a place as any to note that in the 1960's, he invited a young European theologian, Joseph Ratzinger, to teach at Notre Dame. He turned down the invitation, writing that he felt his English was not yet good enough. When he became Pope Benedict XVI in 2005, at the age of 78, news reports said he spoke ten languages.)
In the early years, Horizons published a few ecumenical articles, but that trend petered out. The Society itself remains Roman Catholic, though it has held biennial meetings with the Baptist Professors of Theology since the mid 1990's. The disappearance of the word Catholic from the society's name turns out the have little to do with ecumenism and much to do with an extensively debated question of grammatical ambiguity: did the first word in the noun phrase ``Catholic College Teachers'' modify the second or third word or both? At the 1967 annual meeting (Pittsburgh), a vote decided that the proper concern of the society was ``College Theology.'' I think the society's name change came not much after. Theologians have to tie up all the loose ends. I don't.
The organization, affiliated with the MLA, publishes the journal SCE Reports. According to this page, Stanford University has a quarterly called SCE Reports that describes spending by Resident Fellows and I don't know who else. If I ever learn the expansion, I'll probably make it a separate entry.
(Global warming entry coming soon. Before 2050, at the latest.)
In principle, I suppose it could be pleasure in another's sadness of whatever provenance -- through specific misfortune or otherwise. Then again, sadness is usually regarded as some kind of misfortune in se. However, I think that the typical context involves ``another'' with whom one is not (or more like is no longer) in immediate communication. In this situation, the typical misfortune one is likely to know of is the substantive sort.
Italian: onomatopèa (also -pèia),
Norwegian: onomatopoietikon, lydmalende ord, and lydhermende ord
Dutch: klanknabootsing, klanknabootsend woord, and onomatopee,
Albanian: onomatopé and tingullimitim,
Hungarian: hangutánzás and hangfestés,
Russian (transliterated): zvukopodrazhanie (you will not complaining; adjective is being zvukopodrazhatyel'nii).
This is completely absurd; not only are the words insanely long, but many of them resemble the original Greek and therefore each other, reducing diversity and facilitating mutual comprehensibility among languages. These are problems that English can solve. The word should be something like the Dutch or Albanian outliers -- whizbang or zingptooey or tweetmeow -- but not suggest anything in particular. I think buzzpoppery would do nicely. The adjective would be anything totally different.
A popular early method of producing oxygen was by the reduction of mercurous nitrate [that's mercury (II) nitrate: Hg(NO3)2]. It was widely used in the making of felt hats in the nineteenth century. Over time, they would inhale or ingest enough to suffer mercury poisoning; thus arose the expression ``mad as a hatter,'' an expression possibly preserved in the language by Lewis Carroll's `Mad Hatter' character.
Scheele's detailed reasoning is outlined at this site.
This is my proudest discovery.
Anyway, the description fits US usage well enough. A closely related sense of scheme occurs in the phrase ``pension scheme.'' That term is used widely in the UK and rarely in the US (the US term is ``pension plan,'' much less common in the UK). Thirteen other OED2 entries do include the phrase ``pension scheme'' within definitions or quoted examples, with the earliest dated instance occuring in 1935. This phrase and others like it (recording scheme, compensation scheme, ombudsman scheme, etc.) seem to account for most occurrences of the word (as noun, the verb disappearing) in UK usage (i.e., in .uk webpages). The occasional exceptions seem to be older texts. Another example of this new collocation pattern, or perhaps revived older sense, is in the phrase ``housing scheme.''
The new OED edition offers an additional sense of scheme as short for this phrase in Scottish colloquial usage, but that is not enough. The negative connotation of scheme should be identified as ``chiefly American'' or at least not British. (Of course, if you're in the opposition, loyal or otherwise, perhaps government schemes do seem to have a nefarious or at least misguided element.) Australian usage, as suggested by the expansion of HECS, apparently parallels UK usage. The word scheme also occurs in the phrase ``incontinence pad scheme'' quoted at our entry for the (Western Australia) AABIC. There seems to be a real divergence in usage under way here.
Now I'm going to give an example of the (incidental) use of the term ``housing scheme.'' The example comes from pp. 90-91 of G.N.M. Tyrrell's Homo Faber: A Study of Man's Mental Evolution (1951). (You may as well know that I'm only doing this to assuage the accountancy of my conscience, which knows it was a waste to have skimmed even this much.)
... Behind the working of our rational mind lie forces which rise up to it from the instinctive level and also forces which descend to it from the unadapted level. Both can influence the mind unconsciously. An example of the latter kind is provided by the building of the medieval cathedrals. The great and prolonged effort which was put into these permanent messages in stone can surely not be accounted for solely by the intellectual beliefs which their builders held. The real driving force must have been unconscious; for the cathedrals have a significance which cannot be expressed in language. They were not built to provide places of worship in the deliberate way in which a modern government might decide on a housing scheme. If one sits in a cathedral, especialy if it is empty, and, so to speak, feels it, the conviction comes home to one that it is the crystallization of a message that could not be expressed in words. No formal doctrine or dogma is enshrined in it but a reality which enters from beyond our life in time. It is this which must have inspired the planners and builders to carry on their long and laborious work--although they could not have said as much if they had been asked.
Other entries that mention cathedrals are those under the head terms
_____ / ___ \ / / \ \ \ \___/ / \_____/ \ _____ \ / ___ \ C==N___/ / \ \ / \ \___/ / / \_____/ H
The situation was a bit more complicated in medieval Austria and Bavaria, which used a ``long'' Schilling worth 30 Pfennig as a unit of account. I'm sure at the time that someone thought this made things simpler. Eventually, it became the name of the currency of post-imperial Austria. It remained the monetary unit (currency symbol ATS) until replaced by the euro. The conversion was at a rate of 1 EUR = 13.7603 ATS, or approximately 1 ATS = 0.07267 EUR. See also Groschen, a subsidiary unit.
Reported in 1992.
Yiddish is written in Hebrew (originally Aramaic) characters, so capitalization is not an issue as it is in German written with (any more-or-less) Roman characters. In English I suppose you could capitalize the word to make clear that you're borrowing from the German, but then you could just as well write lard. I suppose if you want to emphasize that you're borrowing from the Yiddish you might write ``shmaltz,'' but that spelling is much less common. The shm and shn consonant clusters are common in German languages but rare in English words not recently borrowed from German or Yiddish, so I guess it's hard to naturalize the spelling.
Goose fat makes a good breadspread, but tastes depend on early childhood experience. I remember the first time someone suggested dipping good bread in an icky pool of green olive oil. Ah, but I was so much older then; I'm younger than that now. Cf. skwarka.
The word has taken English inflections: schmaltzy, schmaltziness. That doesn't always happen with Yiddish words in English (contrast the noun meshuga, with adjective form meshugene). It's interesting how the transferred sense of schmaltzy compares with that of the materially almost equivalent greasy. They have similar connotation -- both are at least vaguely deprecatory, but different denotation.
This is an epithet in the manner of Johnny come lately, nervous Nelly, silly Billy, and simple Simon. A fair literal translation might be `Smith Always Along.' A reasonable English version might be `Tag-Along Smith,' although it carries slightly different connotations. At minimum, unlike the German ``immer mit,'' ``tag-along'' in English carries a suggestion of someone who follows a group.
The English epithet examples suggest that alliteration or rhyme contribute to their popularity. In case there's any doubt, therefore, I'll note that -midt is pronounced identically with mit. Generally speaking, final stop consonants are unvoiced, and final dt, tt, and t are equivalent. Indeed, the words statt and Stadt originally had the same spelling, and one of them (I forget which) had its spelling altered just to make an orthographic distinction.
In the literal translation above, I Englished mit as `along.' As English speakers generally know, mit is the German preposition typically corresponding to the English preposition `with.' However, in the head term mit is used as an adverb, and English with is rarely an adverb. Along is a fair translation of the adverb mit, and it works reasonably well for the translation of verbs with the separable prefix mit into verb-plus-particle constructions: mitbringen is `to bring along,' mitkommen is `to come along,' etc. For another contrast between mit and with, see ablative of association.
Just to be a little pedantic, I'll note that along used as an English preposition does not correpond at all well to the preposition mit. A better way to go is with the postposition entlang, which happens to be the closest cognate of along.
The cognate Yiddish words, with slightly different senses than the German, appeared in English early in the twentieth century (see schnorrer). The German may have had some influence on the English spelling.
There is a defining story that gives the precise sense of schnorrer. To have the full flavor, you should know that megillah is Yiddish for `overlong story' and tsuris is an uncountable noun meaning `troubles, problems, worries.'
A schnorrer sees one of his regular contributors, and comes up to buttonhole him for some spare change. The touch replies with a megillah about his own tsuris. He's going through a rough patch, so he can't help right now. The schnorrer complains in reply: ``Just because you've got tsuris, why should I suffer?''
Well, at least we've broken ground on this entry. Schnorrer is probably related, either as a cognate or parallel development, to English snore, so we've got a bit more to describe.
Scholia Reviews is an electronic journal that features the pre-publication versions of reviews that appear in Scholia.
One of the major agitators for reform was the physicist/philosopher Ernst Mach. Out of kindness, perhaps, writers fail to mention that Mach's early encounter with the classical languages was traumatic. Like many children of the affluent in that time, he was home-schooled until he was ready to enter Gymnasium at age ten. He was very unhappy, particularly with the classical languages and also the religious instruction. Perhaps he suffered a nervous breakdown. He was withdrawn from Gymnasium and home-schooled for another five years, also doing a part-time apprenticeship. It was probably a much better education for a scientist than he would have gotten had he been kept in. He reentered the formal track (i.e., Gymnasium) at age fifteen. It's interesting to contrast the reactions of Mach and Ernst Schrödinger to the classical grammars. Mach was repelled by the memorization necessitated by the irregularity and by the semantically arbitrary distinctions of declension, etc. Schrödinger was impressed by the logic of the system.
A good place to read about Mach and Schrödinger is the wonderful Dictionary of Scientific Biography. Your library must have it. A good starting point to learn about the Schulkrieg is The Young Einstein - The advent of relativity, by Lewis Pyenson (Bristol and Boston: Adam Hilger, Ltd., 1985), pp. 1-3 (with extensive notes to the secondary literature). The reformers largely won the Schulkrieg, but the form of this success did not initially consist in a general change of curriculum, but rather in a change of status of different kinds of existing schools.
Existing high schools in the period fell into three categories. Gymnasien (that's plural of Gymnasium) were classical schools that taught Greek and Latin. Realgymnasien -- semiclassical schools -- taught Latin but not Greek, and Oberrealschulen -- nonclassical schools -- taught neither Latin nor Greek. Originally, only Gymnasium graduates could enter university and certain government positions. The other kinds of schools offered what one might think of as a nonacademic terminal diploma, or vo-tech training. A large part of the reform was the opening up of university education and higher government positions to graduates of all Gymnasien. The curricula changed more slowly. My cousin Franz, one of the older children to get out of Germany on the Kindertransport (and one of the last; his bus raced the back roads into Holland on the day Germany invaded Poland) had gone to a regular Gymnasium. The only languages he knew were German, Latin, and Greek. It was not unusual for Gymnasium graduates in those days to take a year off and travel Europe, learning a modern language or two and maturing. (That was before the war.)
The name SCIA suggests sciatica, which is a pain down the leg caused by irritation of the sciatic nerve (the main nerve into the leg). The irritation is typically spinal, occurring where the nerve emerges from the lumbar vertebrae. After spending weeks on my back trying to decide whether to phrase the preceding sentences in the singular or plural, I've concluded that hey, did you know that Hebrew and Arabic have three grammatical numbers -- singular, dual, and plural? I think it's used more systematically in Arabic; in Hebrew it tends to be used only for things that are naturally paired, like, uh, legs. One leg is regel, a pair of legs is raglayim, more is regalim (stressed syllables bold). As noted at this LE entry, that's not exactly `leg.'
You recognize the Hebrew word regel (`foot, leg, lower extremity') because you remember the star named Rigel. That star marks the left foot of Orion. (He faces us, so that's on our right in the northern hemisphere. If you cross over into the southern hemisphere, the same thing happens that happened to Dante and his guide Virgilio at the end of the Inferno. No, not ``Towering Inferno''; this Inferno is deep.) The name is short for the Arabic rigl al-gauza, `foot of the central one.' (The definite article al in a compound like this means `of the'.) Rigel Kentaurus, the third-brightest star in the sky, is the foot of the constellation Centaurus. It is designated Alpha 1 Centauri, the alpha indicating that it is the brightest star of its constellation. The 1 is to distinguish it from two much dimmer stars that occupy what looks to the naked (earthbound) eye as a single (twinkling) bright point. Rigel (in Orion) is also close (9'' -- nine seconds of arc, not nine inches, you clown) to a dim companion, but apparently that's not quite enough to merit the 1 treatment.
Rigel is the seventh-brightest star in the sky (in apparent magnitude, of course), and the brightest in Orion. Bayer designated it Beta Orionis (implying the second-brightest of Orion) by mistake. Alpha Orionis is a variable star, so I guess it got named, or at least observed, on a good day. Alpha Orionis is better known as Betelgeuse. The latter star name, and you have my permission not to believe this, is a corruption of the Arabic yad al-gauza (yad, in Hebrew and Arabic, means `hand').
Old English and other Germanic languages also had a dual, most evident in the personal pronouns. With the exception of, I think, Icelandic (with dual and plural forms of we), modern Germanic languages do not preserve the distinction.
The term really entered the lexicon in June 1929, with Hugo Gernsback, editor of Science Wonder Stories, who sponsored a monthly $50 contest for essays on ``What Science Fiction Means to Me.''
I think the magazine later became Amazing Stories. Hugo Gernsback also operated the radio station WRNY.
The term sci-fi, oddly enough, is used to describe a broader genre than science fiction proper, as once conceived. In contrast, SF, though in principle more ambiguous (as it fits science fantasy) has a more restrictive sense (see further discussion at SF).
This is also used to mean namely.
The shorter form, sc., is probably more common.
These tousled wearers of the flat hat [the author refers only to professors], supererogated by the medieval magic of the cloister, and made additionally colossal by a little knowledge of some external or measurable facet of the universe, have failed wretchedly in their assignment of educating post-school Americans. They have so departmentalized knowledge that a quadrennium is not long enough to make a sciolist, and they have let the teaching of wisdom disappear altogether from the curriculum, because doubtless, they no longer have any to teach.
(Did he check the 500-level courses?)
Also known as the NSCL. More information, and a raison d'être, at the JCL entry.
Rhymes with SDLC.
There's an FAQ of SCO UNIX newsgroups on the web.
As of mid 2003 I think they had lawsuit on claiming patent infringement by Linux. AFAIK, SCO is the software industry's leading provider of lawsuits.
I was going to wait until I had a minim entry to mention this, but I decided that making my opinions known was simply too urgent. Okay, now we have a minim entry so you can be enlightened.
The etymology of this is suggested to be lobscouse, a mariner's stew, but no one knows the etymology of that. (Specifically, lob is an old word meaning boil, but no one knows the origin of scouse. I wonder if it mightn't be an unattested variant of souse.) As long as you've got all day to ponder stuff like this, you could do worse than browse the house entry.
I say, let the chips fall where they may.
Playing ``Bop'' is like scrabble with all the vowels missing.
All over the world, reactor control panels have emergency shutdown buttons labeled "SCRAM." One often-heard story holds that the term is an acronym for Safety Control Rod Ax Man, an homage to Norman Hilberry, Argonne's second director, who stood poised with an ax during the start-up of the first reactor, ready to cut a rope and release the control rods that would stop the reaction should all else fail. But during the break after the symposium's first panel, [Volny] Wilson laid this myth to rest.
He said that he and Wilcox Overbeck were working in the squash court [at the University of Chicago's Stagg Field] where the reactor was under construction while an electrician wired the control panels. The electrician finished wiring the red emergency-shutdown button, turned to them, and asked how he should label it.
According to Wilson, Overbeck responded by asking, "Well, what do you do when you push the button?"
And Wilson replied, "You scram out of here as fast as you can."
More about the construction of the Stagg Field pile at the CP-1 entry. See also the Martinmas entry.
Dr. Samuel Johnson suffered from scrofula, as well as from gout and, to judge from Boswell's Life, Tourette's syndrome (TS) as well.
Robert Browning spoke of his `` scrofulous French novel.'' There's some more discussion of this [ (1) (2) ] in the archives of the classics list.
See also the syphilis entry.
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Yes, they're coming to take me away.
The latest specs are SCSI-2 (X3.131-1994), SCSI-3 Parallel Interface (X3T10/855D). All SCSI drives support built-in error detection.
FOLDOC has a bunch of stuff at its SCSI-2 and SCSI-3 entries.
Mike Neuffer serves a number of documents on SCSI and RAID, with a Linux orientation.
The fastest scuzzy interfaces are have always been faster than the contemporaneous fastest interfaces standard for PC hard drives, but those SCSI drives are typically not yet available for PC's. In any case, the speed difference has been shrinking. The one reason to get SCSI for a PC right now is if you need to access a large number of disks simultaneously.
Scuba is a great way to meet fish and slimey invertebrates, as you may see.
We live in a time of deep skepticism.
The SCYC, whose expired existence is still atested on the web pages of some of its former subagencies, is now simply the Secretaía de Cultura. Well, you know, in the latest economic nightmare, there've been cutbacks all around. We've all had to tighten our belts and -- what? Now there's also a Secretaría de Medios de Comunicacón? Do I detect here the germ of the problem that besets the nation?
Within the SCYC there were, and within the Secretariat of Culture there are
The phrase salutem dicit became sufficiently standard that the abbreviation S.D. was used formulaically at the beginnings of letters (in the preserved letters of Cicero and Pliny, for example). Here salus occurs in the accusative form salutem, indicating that it is the direct object of the verb dicit (meaning `says' in this instance). So you can think of salutem dicit as meaning ``says `[good] health' '' or ``says hi.'' Sometimes S.D. was shortened to S., and the word ``dicit'' was understood. I suppose one could imagine that S. stood for the verb salutat (`greets'), but apparently S.D. was sufficiently standard that S. was regarded as a shortened form of it.
One instance in a modern language, of a similar verb that may be elided and understood, is sprechen (`speak'). In the phrase ich kann Deutsch sprechen (`I can speak German') is colloquially truncated to ich kann Deutsch (`I can German'). This pattern occurs in a few other expressions, such as ich will ins Kino [gehen] (`I want [to go] to the movie theater'), but which elisions are conventional and which weird is something you'll have to ask a native speaker (or maybe google) about.
Today this S.D. (or S.) occurs primarily in college diplomas, if there. The form S.P.D. also occurs: Salutem Plurimam Dicit. This is normally translated `sends many greetings.' This is a good place to point out that salutem is a singular form, and is treated a mass (a/k/a uncountable) noun; plurimus means `much' in this context.
The Villanova Center for Information Law and Policy serves a page of South Dakota state government links. USACityLink.com has a page with some city and town links for the state.
``FILLING IN 4 YOU'': DENTAL PLACEMENT SERVICE
FOR SASKATOON, NOW EXPANDING INTO REGINA
I guess Regina must have a crown. Don't gag!
Here's a report on ``Worldspace'' apparently appropriately targeted to the parts of the world with fewest CD-players per capita. Here's a trial in Australia.
Yeah, yeah -- everybody's got a mission. But the SDA's get an entry for theirs because the stretch of
acronyms beginning in
SD was threadbare. See the bit on Kellogg for more on one SDAM.
SDB's official publication is Developmental Biology (online access free to SDB members). Their website provides links to Current Topics in Developmental Biology (CTDB), but that seems to be an independent journal owned by the publisher (Elsevier).
An SDB member in the news in late 2008 was Prof. Martin Chalfie of the Columbia University Department of Biological Sciences. He shared that year's Nobel Prize in Chemistry with Osamu Shimomura (of the Marine Biological Laboratory at Woods Hole) and Roger Y. Tsien of (UCSD) for the discovery and development of green fluorescent protein (GFP). That's a camera-friendly Nobel if there ever was one.
``We are a fun-loving sail group, with over 60 boating families and other associates.''
``Perhaps the simplest way to convey the spirit that drives our activities is to quote from the SDCA Constitution.'' Perhaps so.
I'm sympathetic to all these church groups, but the problem is that there just aren't enough Sundays in a life to check them all out to decide who has the one true faith.
This SDCA sponsors a radio broadcast by Ronald L. Dart. Mommas, just to be on the safe side, I recommend that you not use both an initial L and ``Ron'' in your babies' names.
Hey! Cut out the racket! Thou shalt let thy neighbor sleep unmolested.
If you're reading this much after August 2003, I hope the allusion is obscure.
``[A] partnership of associations representing professional counselors who enhance human development by providing benefits, products, and services to expand professional knowledge and expertise; to promote recognition of counselors to the public and media; and to represent member's interests before federal, state, and local government. SDCA represents nearly 550 professional counselors in the counseling profession and related fields of interest.''
Matinee is only $3.75, all movies, at the mumble mall.
In the post-WWII era, a majority of Japanese have adopted some kind of pacifist position. Like Germany, Japan has been reluctant to become involved in military action beyond its own borders. On the other hand there is also a powerful minority in Japan that wants to see the standing of Japan's military rehabilitated.
In 2001, Junichiro Koizumi almost single-handedly saved the fortunes of his LDP by campaigning on a promise to clean up corruption and secrecy in government. Once elected, he reneged as quickly as possible and negotiated (with LDP party factions) his own survival as PM. An interesting aspect of his political maneuvering after the election was the number of big symbolic crumbs he threw to the factions one would call militarist, if the word were not too strong for the time being.
In the aftermath of its Iraq conquest in 2003, the US urged Japan to contribute personnel to the reconstruction effort. SDF personnel are being deployed in non-combat capacities. This got done partly on the basis of arguments that the reconstruction effort is not a combat situation. A small 1000-person advance team of the GSDF left for Iraq on January 19, 2004. In a joint appearance on a Fuji TV show the day before their departure, the secretaries general of the LDP and New Komeito (their coalition partner) announced that the SDF mission would not be abandoned if Japanese troops are injured or even killed by terrorists there. Really! What commitment! The special reasoning required for this conclusion was explained by New Komeito's Sec.-Gen. Tetsuzo Fuyushiba: ``Terrorist attacks are not recognized as an act of combat'' (Japan Today translation).
Rhymes with SCLC.
Effect is complementary to SDG, q.v.
The product was authored by Roger B. Winston, Jr., Ted K. Miller, and Diane L. Cooper (1999). These individuals appear to constitute ``Student Development Associates, Inc.'' (SDA). In fact, R.B.W. is president of SDA.
The SDTLA is a revision of the Student Developmental Task and Lifestyle Inventory (SDTLI) ``is grounded in the theoretical approach described by Chickering and Reisser (1993) in Education and Identity (2nd ed.).'' I hope that this theoretical approach is not overthrown in ``(3rd ed.).''
According to the authors, the ``SDTLI [developed in part by R.B.W. and T.K.M.] has been useful in working with students individually, for assessing student needs in program development, for teaching in orientation courses, and for conducting outcomes assessments. We believe that the SDTLA is an even better assessment instrument.''
Learn more at its entry in WebElements and its entry at Chemicool.
Selenium is the active ingredient in nonprescription dandruff shampoos/treatments like Selsun Blue, as well as prescription treatments that often simply have a higher concentration of selenium. Coal-tar derivatives are also used, but they smell. (When you think about it, you see that they more-or-less must smell: coal tar ``derivatives'' are obtained by fractional distillation with no chemical processing, and coal-tar has a vast collection of different compounds, many of them odoriferous. A process as unselective as distillation is unlikely to separate useful and non-smelly compounds from smelly ones.) Bishop Berkeley, the empiricist philosopher and enthusiast of education and new-world settlement, had a pet theory that most of the problems of Ireland could be solved if everyone (everyone in Ireland, not England) would bathe in tar-water. It might have done for the dandruff and lice, anyway.
You know, if you take the sentences on the homepage of the SSS (``established in 2000'') and just scramble the sentence order and paragraph divisions, and change all the details, you get something that bears an uncomfortable resemblance to the SE page. Somebody really ought to look into this. Is this right?
``Although the SE is primarily a philosophical society, others are also encouraged to become members.''
Distinguished from really special edition.
A number of years ago, I saw a .sig that listed an address in ...
Stockholm, Sweden, Europe.
That's the country we're talking about here.
[I emailed the guy with that .sig ("Oh, _that_ Sweden!"), and he wrote back that for some newsgroup readers, the last bit constitutes new information. This exchange took place in the early 1990's, before Sweden joined the EU (see EU-15 entry). Today, he might write ``Sweden, EU,'' and it would provide geopolitical rather than political-geographical information. See also this CA.]
The Prologue (``In the Beginning Was the Moraine'') of Leading by Design: The IKEA Story (described at the IKEA entry) begins
Älmhult, Småland, Sweden, the World.(It only gets sillier after that.)
Sweden has the reputation of having the highest suicide rates in Europe. It's probably the lack of sunlight. (It's SAD, don't you agree?) The Swedish-born founder of IKEA comes from a family of mean mothers-in-law and their suicidal sons, yet those're on the German-immigrant side of the family.
Membership has its privileges. Primarily, it allows you to claim that you're ``at SEA.''
It is very often the case that an organization that seals its acronym (e.g., ADSC, ARMA, SPIE, and YIVO above) will adopt an official name that includes a description in apposition to the old initialism. This is one of the key signs that the acronym has been sealed or (see AGI) is in the process of becoming sealed. This is often ungainly, and is especially awkward in situations where abbreviations are being introduced. For example, sometime in 2007 a feature article in ADSC's glossy bimonthly had the following title and subtitle: ``Annual Alliance Report: Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA) and ADSC: International Association of Foundation Drilling (ADSC).'' This glossary entry was inserted on or before August 14, 2007.
Another problem with sealed acronyms in appositional names may occur if the original acronym expansion contained words, like ADSC's ``Association,'' that were later added in apposition. (There's also the partial overlap of the acronym's ``Drilled'' with the appositional phrase's ``Drilling.'') These may be considered AAPP's -- Pleonasms with Acronym Assistance pleonasms. However, this is a very dicey question, particularly once the acronym is completely sealed. We have teams of philosophers working around the clock to resolve this vital issue, and we expect to receive a preliminary report within a couple of millennia. SPIE (with overlaps in Society, Photo-optical/Optical, and Engineers/Engineering), ARMA (Association and Managers/Management), and YIVO are on tenterhooks. [YIVO is an extreme case if you're reading the Yiddish, where the description in apposition is simply the original acronym expansion (details at its entry). In English, the appositional Institute echoes the Yiddish Institut -- represented by O in the acronym.]
(It might be objected that when an initialism is pronounced as a sequence of letter names, it is less likely to be deemed an acronym. However, that could only be a valid objection in a phonetic language.) If I wrote any more, I'd start waxing philosophical about the past participle. No one wants to see that happen.
There's actually a silent moment in the Queen item, but it's a single track in some of Queen's albums.
[It's hard to say precisely how complete the above list is, especially since only a small fraction of songs from albums ever sold get much airplay, and the above is based mostly on what I've noticed on the radio. (Of course, there's some overlap with pairs I've noticed in my personal collection.) What I can say is that I've returned to this entry at least half a dozen times to add a pair that turned out to be on the list already. Not only does this prove that I have absolutely no long-term memory, but it also suggests that the songs on this list represent a solid majority of such pairs, weighted by airplay, at least in the ``classic rock'' genre.]
I guess that if you're a DJ with the runs, you can queue these along with American Pie. They're also ready-made for Two-for-Tuesday.
I heard these described as medleys by more than one DJ. (I've also heard a DJ stumble trying to describe the ZZ Top pair listed above, evidently because he didn't know or couldn't think of an apt term.) I suppose these song pairs fall within most loose definitions of the word, but medley normally implies or suggests incomplete serial performance of more than two songs. Part of the charm of nonindustrial medleys is the art of the musicians in making a smooth transition. When the whole songs form a medley this is less of a challenge, because the beginning and end of a song needn't carry the same rhythm as the rest of the song.
There are some single songs, like Elton John's ``Funeral for a Friend'' and one or two Pink Floyd tunes, that seem like two songs combined. Ike and Tina Turner did a famous cover of ``Proud Mary,'' sung half ``nice... and easy'' and half ``rough,'' which is discussed at the octane number entry.
To help you find the foregoing entry, we include this search-engine
two-fer 2-fer I thought it was one song but it was really two songs only one song but it's two songs back to back together recorded live I thought it was just one song but it was actually two songs no pause no silence no interlude album tracks like a single track I thought it was a single song but it was two songs the first song flows into the second song the first song flows into the next song one song flows into the other song when they play it on the radio it sounds like a single song but it's really two songs that sound it sounds like just one song but it's really two songs that it sounds like one song but it's really two songs I thought they were one song I thought they were just one song I thought they were a single song
This isn't really our oldest entry. It's just the most dated.
The English-language Wikipedia entry for SEAT claims that the E is long (``SEE-at''). I don't recall ever hearing it pronounced any other way than phonetically according to its spelling in Spanish (hence short-e: ``SEH-at''). Perhaps the British pronunciation is modeled on that of Fiat. (There probably isn't any distinct American English pronunciation, since SEAT isn't marketed in North America.) The Spanish-language Wikipedia entry makes no particular comment on the pronunciation. It does, however, explain the following:
SEAT currently names its models after Spanish cities. In order to avoid possible trademark problems in the future, it has registered the names of all the cities of Spain.
Another approach that some may find preferable is to wear a silk shirt soaked in K-Y jelly.
When I think of what the world is missing because my book of essays and life hints has failed to find a publisher, it brings tears to my eyes. Another approach that some may find preferable is to apply glycerine to the side of the nose. (What Goya did was simply tell his daughter that her fiance had died. I do believe he let her in on his little joke once he finished the painting.)
A good example of the voluminous literature alluded to (though one with an odd interpretation that abstracts testatory uses of ``second best'' from obscure English legal history) is The Second Best Bed: Shakespeare's Will in a New Light by Joyce Rogers (Connecticut: Greenwood Press, 1993). On page 72 there you can find a paragraph of the usual examples of parallels that have been adduced, not including the one above.
Online you can find ``Alas, Poor Anne: Shakespeare's `Second-Best Bed' in Historical Perspective,'' an 18-page article on the subject (critical of the Stratford man) by Bonner Miller Cutting, published in the Oxfordian in 2011.
Oh yeah, what I wanted to mention was that sometimes ``second second'' is synonymous with ``third.'' One example occurs at our L2 entry. Another example occurs in the movie industry, where ``second second assistant director'' is a synonym of ``third assistant director.'' You may wonder which term is more undignified. It looks like a calculation. One factor to include in it is that reportedly, ``third'' is sometimes mispronounced to suggest a false etymology of the word that comes behind it.
Eventually, this entry will be mostly about instances of numbering similar to ``second second.'' For example, we'll mention a distortion of traditional Hebrew numbering that is used to avoid writing a reference to the name of God. We won't bother explaining the Pentium II, Pentium III thing, since that's already covered at an existing entry. Later, we'll veer off into things that are somewhat more tenuously related to ``second second,'' like French base-twenty number names. Somewhere along the line, some etymological quirk will catch my attention, and the entry will end up being about that.
You can't have a science without specialization. Mine is experimental spelign.
I should be clear about the ``whether'' above. Many universities offer a degree in this undiscipline, and though I think they have a lot of cheek, I haven't noticed a tongue in any of them.
But be careful what you google for, you may get it back in adsense. I got sidetracked into degrees in ``Fire Science,'' and for a week my banners and margins were burning with invitations to get a degree in that subject.
One design strategy involves a calibrated transfer of data that generates a constant time-remaining estimate. Ideally, this requires
d / 1-f \ -- ( t --- ) = 0 , dt \ f /or f(t) = t / (t+ts) , where ts is the constant-by-design estimate of the time remaining for download to be complete. The subscript s stands for Sisyphus.
... students of literature have had cause to be nervous of social scientists plundering the golden treasury, often for partisan purposes heavily disguised as science.
Here's something relevant from Studies in Linnaean Method and Nomenclature (q.v.), by John Lewis Heller (a classical scholar):
A prominent feature of Linnaeus's Latin style, at least in the Dedication, is his omission of connectives, whether it be in a series of enumerations where no semifinal
-quewas written or in a pair of contrasting terms where we might expect
sed.This was a familiar device of classical rhetoric and I have been at some pains to preserve it in the translation, probably to the reader's annoyance.
[The comment refers to Heller's translation of Hortus Cliffortianus, which Carolus Linnaeus published in 1737. In the commentary following his translation, the quoted text is the first thing mentioned under the rubric (p. 105) of ``Problems of translation.'']
In March 2004, the 15th AGM of SEDERI was held in Lisbon -- the first time it had been held outside Spain. Following that meeting, the society changed its name to the ``Spanish and Portuguese Society for English Renaissance Studies.'' In various documents, the name appears in Spanish (Sociedad Hispano-Portuguesa de Estudios Renacentistas Ingleses), Portuguese (Sociedade Hispano-Portuguesa de Estudos Renascentistas Ingleses), English, or in two or all of these. The initialism was kept unchanged. There must be a name for this common maneuver and the anachronistic acronyms that result.
As of February 2007, it seems that SEDERI could use some revitalization itself. The last time it was mentioned in a major paper such as the Globe and Mail was February 3, 2001 (in the Toronto Star -- is that a stretch?). Under the caption ``SEDERI is being written about,'' the SEDERI website helpfully reproduces an editorial from ``The Bulletin, the most read community newspaper in Downtown Toronto.'' That editorial, from February 8, 2005, includes this mention of SEDERI:
``In trying to purge itself of the taint from its freewheeling days, HRDC renamed itself HRSDC. (No the S isn't for strippers, it's for skills. [That was true at the time, anyway.]) Under the ministrations of Toronto's Joe Volpe, its bureaucrats have gone berserk in an orgy of red tape that is strangling useful programs, including the South East Downtown Economic Redevelopment Initiative (SEDERI).'' Apparently the funding was being continued on a month-to-month basis, and SEDERI was having trouble paying its bills. ``This current situation of course threatens to overshadow much of the great work that SEDERI accomplished in the past year, such as delivering the successful Southeast Downtown Job & Career Fair held in October at St. Lawrence Market, the series of Youth Employment Skills workshops delivered in the spring and summer, and the recent Stakeholder Workshop & Public Forum on seeking local solutions to getting our shelter resident population back into the workforce.'' The most recent activity on the SEDERI website is a blog entry from June 2005 to the effect that the Board of Directors was ``refocussing on the mission and direction of the organization.''
... una entidad sin ánimo de lucro cuyo objetivo es reunir a todo el profesorado y personas estudiosas de la didáctica de las diferentes lenguas y sus literaturas que tengan el propósito de promover e intensificar la investigación y la enseñanza de dichas materias.
`...a nonprofit organization whose purpose is to bring together all those in the teaching profession and those who study the teaching of different languages and their literatures who have the goal of promoting and increasing the study and teaching of said subjects.'
Normal Spanish style is more florid and verbose than normal English style. However, bureaucratese is universal.
American Sign Language (ASL) uses one-handed signs for alphabetic characters; British Sign Language uses two-handed lettering.
In Winter Olympics years, since the time that those have not been Summer Olympics years (i.e., 1994+4n, n a small nonegative integer), SEERI has hosted an International Syriac Conference. (There were two earlier such conferences, in 1987 and 1990.) They say that their ``publication, The Harp, mainly contains papers presented in the Syriac conferences.'' That now seems to account for about two of the annual volumes. ``Other volumes of The Harp contain learned papers from scholars all over the world.'' I have the volume XXV before me (2010) and, apart from Syriac words under analysis, its articles are mostly in English (there's an article in French and an article and a book review in German; nothing in Malayalam).
In this idiom, through may not have an explicit object (``love will see you through'') or it may look as if it has a prepositional phrase as predicate (``we will see you through to the end''). One can think of through in these abstracted forms as a particle, like out in the ``verb + particle'' construct pass out. In the last example, ``to the end'' modifies the transitive construct adverbially.
You can sound very silly using the wrong expression. In late 2003, the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) was trying to decide whether to site the world's first large-scale nuclear fusion reactor in France or Japan. Claudie Haignere, France's minister of research and new technologies, issued a statement through her ministry on December 20 that was either originally in, or eventually translated into, Broken English. It said that the fusion project ``remains an absolute priority for Europe. We are utterly convinced that our human, financial and technological advantages should allow us to see through this project.'' As it stands, the statement suggests the the project is a kind of screen to be seen through, implying that it is a deception and a boondoggle. Unless the author was having an attack of candor, the intended English was ``...to see this project through.'' (No French version of this statement was published in any of the French-language news sources searchable by Lexis-Nexis.)
Dylan Thomas wrote a famous poem to his dying father, entitled ``Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night.'' He used the adjective gentle rather than the adverb gently, because he meant to describe not how the father should go, but how the father should be as he went. The gentle is an adjective because it modifies the noun father (implicit subject of the imperative verb). This is a perfectly standard form of expression, parallel to ``he ran laughing through the underbrush'' or ``he stands red-faced at the door.'' I think a similar distinction is at work in the see-through idioms, but I haven't figured it out yet.
Links: thumbnail description - hours - location (It's in Capen Hall. Take my advice and follow the link if you've never been there before.)
Unfortunately, later I forgot what specifically it was a term for. I think it was intended to refer to praise that ostentatiously implies that the praiser has the special understanding or perception necessary to sit in judgment of the praised. A subspecies of condescension.
Oh, enough philosophy. I want to talk about one of my own favorites in the genre of very bad books: A Short History of Technology. It's self-published by proxy. That is, it was ``A Publication of THE THOMAS ALVA EDISON FOUNDATION, INC.,'' but the authors, Vice Admiral Harold G. Bowen and Mr. Charles F. Kettering, were Executive Director and President, respectively, of that laudable foundation.
The book is indeed short -- a ``booklet'' in the words of the author of its foreword (C.F. Kettering). This requires a bit of compression and scanting of details. Here's a breezy sentence on page 19: ``In passing we must not forget the great contributions of Euclid to geometry and Hipparchus and Ptolemy to trigonometry.''
Professional historians looked down their noses at the Durants, who depended almost entirely on secondary research for their sweeping vistas of history. Short is a few scratches below that. Cited works include Webster's New International Dictionary, 2nd Edition and (47 times in 91 pages) Encyclopedia Britannica, 13th Edition (not further specified). (Kettering, an important inventor, now has his own entry in the Britannica.) Many pedestrian passages are ``reprinted with permission.'' I imagine the permission was granted by the publishers and not the authors. It must have been galling to Herbert Butterfield to have a passage quoted from his The Origins of Modern Science. A page or two after the quoted material, he enveighs against the kind of Whig history that Short is such a parodic example of (example at HOT entry).
Incidentally, the perceptive and/or hip student of this glossary will perhaps have noticed that this glossary is itself self-reflexive (setting aside the surprisingly difficult question of whether that is actually a meaningful observation). Indeed, your glossarist is walloping the gentle reader over the head with manifold demonstrations of this ambiguously meaningful, uh, fact. Let's face it: the student of this glossary who has not noticed this fact is basically a COMPLEAT NINCOMPOOP! and is kindly called upon to take notice of the fact (of glossary self-reflectivity, I mean), so that we can all move on.
Now then, that we are all reading from the same page (S04.html, to be precise, or maybe S.cgi), your glossarist raises the following question which will no doubt fascinate you: we know that the SBF glossary is a (most excellent, of course) work of metanonfiction, but is the Stammtisch in se self-reflexive? The answer, you will be relieved to know, is just a hyperlink away.
In 1943 I had arrived at a dead-end in my attempts to find a theory of man, society, and history that would permit an adequate interpretation of the phenomena in my chosen field of studies. ...
The default of the school-philosophies was caused by a restriction of the horizon similar to the restrictions of the consciousness that I could observe in the political mass movements. But if that was true, I had observed the restriction, and recognized it as such, with the criteria of the observation coming from a consciousness with a larger horizon, which in this case happened to be my own. ...
What I had discovered was consciousness in the concrete, in the personal, social, and historical existence of man, as the specifically human mode of participation in reality. At the time, however, I was far from clear about the full bearing of the discovery because I did not know enough about the great precedents of existential analysis in antiquity, by far surpassing, in exactness and luminosity of symbolization, the contemporary efforts. I was not aware, for instance, of the Heraclitian analysis of public and private consciousness, in terms of xynon and the idiotes, or of a Jeremiah's analysis of prophetic existence, before I learned Greek and Hebrew in the 1930s.
Nevertheless, I was very much aware that my ``larger horizon'' was not a personal idiosyncrasy but surrounded me from all sides as a social and historical fact from which I could draw nourishment for my own consciousness. ...
I know what you're thinking: ``Sure, but that's the beginning of chapter one -- introductory remarks. Personal experience for orientational purposes.'' Alright then, from page 41:
Our old family seamstress in Oberkassel, Mrs. Balters, has much influenced me gently. She introduced me to the Leather-Stocking Tales; I still remember distinctly the much-used and greasy book that she brought. I must have been about six years old. Leather-Stocking constituted an inner kingdom of adventure; I do not remember having understood America to be the scene of the tales.
More important were our theological conversations. Mrs. Balters had excellent information about Paradise. All that I know about Paradise I learned from her. ...
As Americans squabble over whether their presidential cliff-hanger is a case of democracy at its finest or constitutional confusion, many Europeans are relishing their self-styled role as a sort of transatlantic heckling gallery.
(In the same article, Herbert quotes a number of malapropisms attributed to George W. Bush. He expresses skepticism, but fails to note that they are well-known to have been spoken by J. Danforth Quayle. Depend upon it: someone who stumbles on vocabulary is likely to have other faults.)
Well, selim is one form of the Arabic word salam (cognate with Hebrew shalom), and occurs as a Muslim name. During the medieval era, high accomplishments in language and literature were reached in the Islamic world -- the highest, in some estimations. So there's a connection of sorts.
SELIM's website makes a distinction between all-caps unitalicized ``SELIM'' for the society and italicized ``Selim'' for the society's journal (ISSN 1132-631X) published (mostly) annually since 1989. Most of the content is in Modern English,
(WARNING: the rest of this entry contains more boring detail unrelieved by paragraph breaks and traces of nuts.)at least in the issues I have physically held in my nonmetaphorical hands. The regular articles have an English abstract followed by a Spanish abstract. The top of the front cover reads
There's a famous story that after a public demonstration of electrical phenomena by Faraday (see EMF), PM Gladstone asked him what good it was, and Faraday replied ``Someday, sir, you will tax it.''
I guess that would make Faraday a Republican. Gladstone, or more precisely his possible drowning, figures in Disraeli's distinction between tragedy and disaster.
A site in Oz has some nice graphics for those who are not faint of bandwidth.
Here's a description from Charles Evans & Associates.
Cf. American Musicological Society (AMS) and Society for American Music (SAM).
In detail: German universities used the term Semester, derived from the Latin [cursus] semestris (`six-month [course -- implicitly, of study]'). Most universities in most places I know of use a semester system -- two long terms separated by two long breaks, often with short academic terms for intensive or short courses during one or both breaks.
In the US, the typical semester has about fifteen weeks of classes and a final-exam period of something over a week, plus some vacation days. Typically, the Spring term runs from mid-January to mid-May and a fall term from just after Labor Day, or early September, to mid-December. Obviously this makes the schedule for fall a bit tighter, so although the mid-March ``Spring Break'' is an institution, the longest break during the fall semester is typically the long weekend of Thanksgiving. A lot of US schools have a ``quarter'' system, but this is the semester entry, so we can't discuss that.
In Japan a semester system is standard, with the school year beginning in April and final exams around the end of January. The Japanese word for semester (i.e. term) is gakki. [The double-k, incidentally, is not an artefact of transliteration. The k's are a geminate pair, with a syllable break in the middle. The word gakki makes a minimal pair with gaki, a derogatory word for `kid' (i.e., `child, young person'). Oh yeah, this is all covered at the gakki entry. Well, you probably needed to know it right away.]
The common semiconductors (homopolar and compound semiconductors) have relatively weak electron-phonon coupling and electron-electron interactions, so carriers produced by doping are quasifree, with electron and hole mobilities much greater than 10 cm²/V-sec. At low temperatures, in single-crystal material that has been modulation doped, phonon, defect and ionized-impurity scattering are all small and mobilities on the order of 107 cm²/V-sec have been achieved.
The Chop Shop again offers what it calls ``Latin Proverb Undies'' for women and ex-boyfriends. They look cheap and they cost $9 to $11 apiece. The ``proverbs'' are not proverbs but mostly riffs on real Latin proverbs or translations of common English expressions (e.g., ``Carpe Noctem'' instead of ``Carpe Diem''; ``Amor Caecus Est,'' `Love Is Blind''), and they're mostly grammatical. They're not very sexy, but the print is small enough that you have to get close to read it. This reminds me of something that happened to me that I had better not retell yet.
The Japanese sen discussed above is written as a kanji. Kanji are traditional Chinese characters, typically pronounced in at least a couple of ways in Japanese. This sen kanji has a Mandarin pronunciation Romanized as qián. The Mainland Chinese currency, the yuan, is subdivided into 100 fen, which I imagine are something else.
Yuan, yen, and won (Korean currency unit) all look like they might be the same word. After all, what's a vowel (or a semivowel) among friends (or enemies). The ``English-Chinese Dictionary (Unabridged)'' edited by Lu Gusun asserts firmly that the Korean word is derived from the Chinese yuán. [No Chinese etymology is offered for chon (or jeon or jun), the hundredth part of either Korea's won.] The Japanese word is a bit more of a problem, and this dictionary unaccountably offers yuán as its origin (albeit tentatively). One small problem is that its pronunciation in Japanese is ``en.'' A substantial problem is that its kanji is different from that of yuán. The kanji for en means `circle,' and the (different) hanji for yuán means `round [thing].'
Sen is also the name of the hundredth part of the base monetary unit of various other countries. It is (or possibly was) 1/100 of an Indonesian rupiah, a Bruneian dollar, a Malaysian ringgit or dollar, and a Cambodian riel. (The Bruneian sen is also called a cent.) The American Heritage Dictionary (AHD4) agrees with the Lu Gusun dictionary on the origin of the Japanese sen (``from Chinese (Mandarin) qián, money, coin''). It traces the Indonesian sen through senti back to cent. The cent was 1/100 of a Dutch guilder. On historical or geographical grounds, I suppose the Malaysian and Bruneian sen have the same origin. I can't tell exactly what the Lu Gun dictionary has to say, since it says it mostly in Chinese, but it uses the same symbol for the Indonesian and Cambodian sen (different from the one used for the Japanese sen). FWIW, 100 Vietnamese xu are worth one Vietnamese dong.
Some day we'll have an entry for the centum-satem thing.
Example of use: as the WSJ reported on August 1, 2005 (article available on line from the Pittsburgh PG), the FDA and EPA delayed many years in issuing a public warning about mercury levels in canned tuna, and then issued one that was vague and apparently inadequate. Interviewed for the story, former EPA Administrator Michael Leavitt explained: ``Mercury is bad and fish is good. We needed to choose the right words that would give people a sense of knowledge without creating unwarranted fear.''
The Our flows south for 78 km, approximately along the border of Germany with Belgium and then with Luxembourg; it is a tributary of the Sauer. I don't know how much of Luxembourg's electric power is hydroelectric; power companies like to emphasize their ``green'' side. Their homepage says they operate a pump-fed power station at Vianden (a historic town on the Our) for peak power production. They don't say what powers the pumps, but they go on quickly to say that they also operate hydroelectric and wind-power facilities.
Anyway, the river names are interesting. Sauer is a cognate of, and in ordinary contexts has the same meaning as, the English word sour. (See, however, the acid entry.) The name of the Our is apparently a French spelling of the old German name Ur. There's an evidently unrelated German word Uhr (same pronunciation) that means (and is cognate with) `hour' and also means `clock, watch.' There's another morpheme ur- which is more interesting.
Many English-speakers find ur- a useful prefix for which there is no adequate English translation. It refers to ultimate origin. Thus, ursprünglich is an adverb that can be translated `original' but feels more like `in ultimate origin.' English has borrowed Ursprache, `protolanguage,' and Urtext, `original text.' (In the relevant context, however, this ought to mean `original lyrics.') There is no known connection between this morpheme and the Biblical city of Ur whence came Abraham.
There might be a connection with the Latin orior, oriri, `to rise' (it looks funny because it's a deponent verb, okay?) and words like orient, origin, and abort that are ultimately derived from that. The Latin is believed to come from an Indo-European root *er-, with reflexes *ar, *or, *art(a) in Germanic, that yielded the English words are, arise, raise, [the verb] rear, and rise.
In Old High German, er was a preposition meaning `from, out of,' and ur was a semantically undifferentiated alternate pronunciation. Both forms ultimately ceased to be used prepositionally, but they survive as distinct prefixes. There is also an adverb eher, meaning `earlier,' which originated as a comparative form of er. So far I haven't been able to find a linguistic reference work that makes the connections I have failed to make explicit in this paragraph: that the er roots that yielded modern German ur- and eher are identical with the *er- that yielded origin. (It would also be interesting if there were a connection with the extinct aurochs, whose name is ultimately Germanic; in Old English, for example, the name was ur.)
Der Kelch is `the goblet,' or similar drinking glass, and comes from an early (pre-Christian) adoption of the Latin calicem (accusative of calix) into West Germanic. Old English had a cognate, but later versions of the word, borrowed from ecclesiastical Latin and from Old French (in the thirteenth century and then again in the fourteenth), each successively extinguished use of earlier cognates, leaving Modern English with chalice.
The Latin calix that is the origin of the base noun of the German Blütenkelch (meaning calyx) is in fact unrelated to the word calyx. The Latin calyx is a borrowing of the Greek kályx (outer covering of a plant part such as a fruit, flower, or bud), which comes from the verb kalýptein , `to cover.' However, confusion of calix and calyx is common in the scientific literature, and calyx is now widely used for any cup-like organ.
This entry pahrt of the Japanese berry inaforamashan rin. Preeze now to proceed to sumo.
Ricciotto Canudo (b. 1879), an Italian film theorist, published a manifesto on October 25, 1911, entitled ``La Naissance d'un sixième art - Essai sur le cinématographe.'' (This was published in French because Canudo was by then established as a leading figure in the French avant-garde. Except while serving in the French and later the Italian military during WWI, Canudo lived in Paris from 1902 until his death in 1923.) In this manifesto he argued that cinema synthesized the ``spatial arts'' (architecture, sculpture, and painting) with the ``temporal arts'' (music and dance). Okay, the quoted terms are not literal quotes from the original essay. I suppose he wrote ``arts spatiaux et temporels'' or somesuch.
Anyway, at some point he seems to have noticed that there was already a sixth art, whichever it was, and by 1922 he had founded La gazette de sept arts. The next year he published an essay better known than the 1911 effort, this one probably entitled ``Manifeste des Sept Arts.'' The French Wikipédia page pour Canudo gives the title ``Manifeste du septième art,'' which seems more sensible to me, but l'université de Metz serves a page for Canudo that shows what appears to be a scan of the cover, with the Sept Arts title. In any case, that particular essay went through a few earlier versions, variously published in France and Italy. According to that U. Metz page, Canudo introduced the term le septième art in 1912.
Anthony Trollope (1815-1882) clearly fancied the name Septimus. The most prominent Septimus in his work is Rev. Septimus Harding, who figures in his Barchester stories [The Warden, 1855; Barchester Towers, 1857; The Last Chronicle of Barset, 1867]. Trollope also has a Rev. Septimus Blake in The Way We Live Now (1875). In Phineas Redux (1874), one of his characters misremembers the name of Quintus Slide, publisher of salacious gossip, as ``Mr. Septimus Slope, or whatever his name is.''
In The Mystery of Edwin Drood, (1870), Charles Dickens (1812-1870) included a minor canon ``Rev. Septimus Crisparkle,'' so named, as explained parenthetically, ``because six little brother Crisparkles before him went out, one by one, as they were born, like six weak little rushlights, as they were lighted.'' Dickens chose memorable, evocative names that were often puns, onomatopoeic, or both, or close. In this instance, he has to insert a little story to make his pun. Other and better examples:
Before moving on, back to Septimus, I'd like to mention Smerdyakov -- half-wit, maybe half-brother to The Brothers Karamazov (by Fyodor Dostoyevsky, as if you didn't know that, 1879-1880), and murderer of their father and himself. The name suggests his place of birth (an out-house).
Wilkie Collins (1824-1889) included both a Septimus and an Octavius in his The Moonstone (1868). Octavius Guy (that's a name) is bug-eyed, just like a lot of bass-players, and that's all I'm going to tell you about him, but it might be relevant. Septimus Luker (not ``Lukier,'' as it says in the Cyclopedia of Literary Characters) is a moneylender who takes the Moonstone diamond for safekeeping from a guy who stole it and who is eventually found dead. A moneylender is a shady character -- someone who may be engaged in a legit business, but irregular opportunities have a way of cropping up. Now think about Bogie. In The Maltese Falcon he plays a private detective, and in Casablanca a nightclub owner. Two demimondain professions. In each case, Bogie gets care of a highly valued piece of stolen property, and various people die in mysterious circumstances. As for scary or scared-looking eyes, I can't remember whether that's covered in MF.
Wilkie Collins, I might mention, made a career writing novels that were disparaged in his time as ``sensational'' (Moonstone was not in this category). Eventually, I'll probably mention another of his novels at the nemo entry. Can't wait, huh? Collins had a close personal association with Charles Dickens from about 1851 until the latter's death; his younger brother Charles married Dickens's daughter Katie.
One of the landmarks of twentieth-century fiction is Virginia Woolf's Mrs. Dalloway (1925). (I'm writing in freshman essay mode, eh?) One of the important characters, by some measures the most courageous and sympathetic, and clearly representing Virginia Woolf's romantic rebellion against nineteenth-century rationalism (What, again? Didn't Dickens cover that in Hard Times?) is Septimus Warren Smith. He's married to an Italian woman named Lucrezia, but in this story he and not she commits suicide. It's a wonder professors who have to read hundreds of freshman comp essays don't commit suicide pretty often too. Three suicides mentioned so far in this entry, by my count. Ah, literature. I firmly approve the use of uncommon names for people with common surnames, but this seems to happen more in fiction than in life. Vide camp.
You know, having slogged through to the end of this entry myself, I have to admit it grows a bit dutiful after this point, even boring. You might as well follow the camp link.
Disraeli's Vivian Grey (1826) included a young barrister named Mr. Septimus Sessions. Oh, and it turns out we're not quite through with Reverends Septimi. George Meredith (1828-1909) put a Rev. Septimus Barmby in his One of Our Conquerors (1891).
John O'Keefe (1747-1833) had a hit with the play ``The Doldrum'' (like, 1798 or so, published in 1803). This sported both a Septimus (played by Mr. Quick; sometimes you wonder which names aren't invented) and a Captain Septimus (Mr. Middleton).
The other play I can find that features a modern Septimus (not counting the Edwin Drood stage adaptation by Joseph Hatton, 1841-1907) is ``Pork Chops, Or A Dream At Home'' (1860) by E. L. Blanchard, ``a Farcical Extravaganza IN ONE ACT.'' This features a Septimus Snooks, ``a Gentleman connected with the Press---vulgo---Penny-a-liner---with the `Life of a Vagabond' '' according to the front matter.
Joaquin Miller (1837-1913) included the interesting rich widow of one Septimus Boggs in a long poem called ``The Baroness of New York'' (1877). Miller was an interesting character in his own right, so interesting that I hardly know where to begin, so I won't.
In 1978 there was a UK TV series called ``The Body in Question,'' written and hosted by Jonathan Miller, an interesting character in his own right (his professional life has alternated between medicine and the theater and related areas). In one episode the following exchange from Hard Times is quoted:
``Are you in pain, dear mother?''
``I think there's a pain somewhere in the room,'' said Mrs. Gradgrind, ``but I couldn't positively say that I have got it.''
The two other common praenomina are Sextus (Sex.) and Spurius (S. or Sp.).
The word seda (`silk') doesn't sound too similar to sera in Spanish, but it could be confused as pronounced by many non-native speakers: The letter ``d'' in Spanish is pronounced like the voiced fricative ``th'' in the English words they, these. The noninitial single letter ``r'' in Spanish is pronounced like the flap consonant that many or most American English speakers use for intervocalic ``d'' (and intervocalic ``t''). See also será next:
The song lyrics include the same phrase in English: `Whatever will be will be.' This is almost an inspired translation. One day I should come back to this entry and write a dissertation on the differences between what and whatever, and the twisted ways that they do and don't map into ¿qué?, lo que, and que.
English-speakers and sloppy spellers of all tongues write the word without the accent: ``sera.'' This spelling moves the stress to the penult. There's actually a word with that spelling.
Universiti Kebangsaan, a/k/a the National University of Malaysia, established its SERI on July 1, 2005. Suri, the daughter of Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise, was born April 18, 2006 (except according to the National Enquirer). I think that explains everything. Cf. SERIS.
Nationalisms and Sexualities was first imagined at Eve Sedgwick's house in Amherst, Massachusetts during a pajama party attended by the editors and several members of the editorial board of the newly-launched journal Genders.
That was the punch line.
A ``historic international conference'' resulted, held at Harvard June 16-18, 1989, sponsored by the Harvard Center for Literary and Cultural Studies, the Radcliffe Project on Interdependence, and Amherst College. I was kind of expecting something like ``Amherst College Initiative on Gendered Discourses of the Other,'' but it just says ``Amherst College.'' I guess they don't believe in compartmentalizing that stuff. They let all the fine individual participations of the college redound to the enhanced reputation of the whole.
Just in case you were thinking of inviting me to your next conference-brainstorming session, I think you should know: I sleep naked.
Dave Barry explains about the US version of this telephone, uh, service that it's just no good. They tell you to write clearly and not make arithmetic mistakes, instead of telling you how to cheat without getting caught.
Why was it the Pentagon that was doing this? Because the relevant agency (FVAP) is within the Department of Defense (DoD). During the Florida vote-counting morass in 2000, it was widely reported that most Americans voting from abroad were in or with the military. In January 2004, when SERVE was publicized, it was reported that of the six million U.S. voters living overseas, most are members of the military or their relatives. Although statistics about Americans abroad are strikingly uncertain, it is clear that these claims, at least, are false. See the FVAP entry for more.
According to the theory of relativity, these six-rows-of-three-piece-columns or three-rows-of-six-piece-columns compass equal quantities of chocolate (in the ``rest frame,'' if you haven't opened the box yet). A separate calculation shows that this quantity is eighteen (18) chocolate pieces. This number is confirmed at three separate places on the outside of the box -- which makes sense: once you can read the inside of the box, you can probably tell how many pieces there are by the methodology of direct inspection. This has to be what people mean when they talk about ``thinking outside the box.''
Flipping the box over carefully, we find an information region labeled ``Nutrition Facts.'' (There is separate text, bearing the rubric ``Ingredients,'' which evidently does not contain nutrition facts, in some application of that term.) In order to state the nutrition facts clearly, it is necessary to state the nutrition content using intensive measures (in the thermodynamic sense) rather than extensive ones.
``Serving size'' is the food-science concept that makes this intellectual transformation possible. Intensive quantities are stated in ordinary extensive units like grams, but these quantities represent ``amount per serving.'' In our chosen example (Lindt-brand Lindor Truffles), the serving size is
[Information Facts: Normally I don't bother, but in this entry it seemed apropos to indicate the ``information serving size.'' Studies indicate that at approximately this point, give or take a word or two, readers pause to digest the information so far consumed. One serving of glossary entry contains 16% of the recommended daily value (DV) of information for the sort of adult who consumes 2000 bytes per day.]
39 grams. Given that the net weight in the package is 100 g, a serving size of 39 might seem a bit fussy. After all, they might have chosen a serving size of 40 g, which divides evenly into two packages. (Don't tell me you selfishly bought only one!) I'm sure that Lindt & Sprüngli GmbH catches a lot of flack for this, and I'm here to tell you it is just completely unfair. A sober reappraisal of the relevant nutrition fact -- ``Serv. Size 7 pieces (39g)'' -- suggests that
You know how some sites say ``under construction''? Here you actually get to see the construction underway.
Actually, it's not something NASA does anymore, since Congress cut funding in 1993. The project has been continued with private contributions -- see the SETI Institute and the SETI League. Listen to Coast-to-Coast AM long enough, and you're bound to hear about it.
In the SBF, we conduct a very similar enterprise, which is the Search for Extra Terrestrial Intelligence (SETI). It's been suggested that Hungary might be a good place to search.
The Planetary Society hosts back issues of Bioastronomy News (scroll down to it there), the official publication of the International Astronomy Union's Commission 51, which worries about such things.
Back in the 1990's, I think, you could let your computer participate in the search in its spare time while you were away. It would help search for less-likely-to-be-noise patterns in the electronic noise of outer space. (The link is dead, okay? Now you can use your personal computer, when you're not using it for anything else and even when you are, to search for the search program of the Search for Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence on Earth, or cyberspace or wherever.)
Ha-ha! Just kidding! Of course: everyone knows that belief is not based on reasoned argument. Not even true belief.
Well, there are always arguments about whether viruses are alive, yet there's no question but that you can kill them anyway.
Radcliffe College was in Cambridge along with Harvard, but was absorbed into Harvard in the 1970's. All that remains is a Radcliffe Institute (research into Women's studies, um, broadly defined) and annual campaigns for money from Radcliffe alumnae. (See the seriousness entry for a sample of the Institute's good work.) Barnard is across the street from Columbia.
Wellesley is a dozen miles from Harvard and Bryn Mawr a dozen miles from the University of Pennsylvania. Vassar College (in Poughkeepsie, NY) and Cornell (in Ithaca, NY) are both less than half a dozen miles from nowhere, but they're different nowheres, nowheres near each other, no way. Well, Vassar is a bit over 30 miles from West Point. Basically, this sister has no big brother. Mount Holyoke, the eldest sister, and Smith College, are both in Massachusetts.
``Trangeneration,'' a documentary series that aired on the Sundance Channel in September 2005, featured four transgender students described as ``two women and two men.'' One of the students, Lukas, was transitioning from female to male while attending Smith College. I do not know why Lukas decided to attend Smith College, but I can see it from at least a couple of angles. It also means that anyone who looks at his résumé now will notice a sort of discrepancy. (Another student, a Filipino scholarship student at UCLA, bought hormones from street dealers for a fraction of the price of medical estrogen. Estrogen is available as a street drug? Why order from Canada when discount pricing is as close as the nearest inner city?)
According to a 2005.09.15 article in the San Francisco Chronicle (byline Reyhan Harmanci), ``legal and social pressure has resulted in administrative changes at many schools. The main issues are in the places where normative gender is enforced -- restrooms, on-campus housing, sports teams. Gender-neutral restrooms have become the standard at Wesleyan University, Oberlin, University of Massachusetts, the University of Chicago, Sarah Lawrence College, the University of New Hampshire, Beloit College in Wisconsin and several other schools.'' This is gonna wreak havoc with Title IX.
Bryn Mawr's grad school has been integrated, but the undergraduate college is still all-female. I'll just keep adding facts at random.
The two other common praenomina are Servius (Ser.) and Spurius (S. or Sp.). You say you don't know what a praenomen is? Well shame on you! All you had to do was ask and be berated! (We're trying to reproduce the traditional Latin pedagogical experience here, see?) It's explained at the tria nomina entry.
A name to watch out for is Sextus Empiricus, a physician and Skeptic philosopher of the second century BC. A Greek who may have taught in Rome or Alexandria, he is normally called Sextus, with that being taken as his name in the Greek style, Latinized. Then Empiricus is regarded as an epithet referring to the fact that he was a member of the ``Empirical school'' of physicians (although he did not agree completely with that school). However, and particularly with the little that we know of him, it cannot be ruled out Empiricus was his gens or family name.
I only said I wanted to mention Teresias.
You know, the trouble with a love letter is that you put a lot of work into writing it and making it personal and everything, but after all that effort you send it to very few people. Fortunately, I have a place to deposit such subliterary odds'n'ends. (This glossary.)
To Miss X------: I know a bold woman like you can have any boy she wants, and I know you know you are a ``man-eater.'' I see you with other boys -- my rivals -- and I always check them out. What makes *them* so special? Why not me? When that day I long for comes, when you finally turn your gaze upon me and I quickly glance down at my knees, a smile playing at the corner of my blushing cheek, you know you will have me. But I don't want to be just another notch in your lipstick case. The guys you've been with before, they're just ``loose men.'' They only want you for ... for what's between your legs! *I'm not that kind of guy.* Oh sure, I think about, you know, down there. Nice guys have needs too. But I want you to respect me after we.... (Giggle.) I'm not like those empty-headed boys you've known. I'm a quality person. I have serious interests, I watch Animal Planet, I read magazines. That's why I look up to you, not just because you're on top. I'm the kind of guy who can appreciate the woman that you are -- your education, your seriousness, your sense of humor, your income. xxxooo (heart) xxoo, your Secret Admirer. P.S. I want to have your baby!
A much tamer and lamer cinematic treatment of sex in space occurs in Moonraker. Roger Moore (as James Bond) and Lois Chiles (Bond Girl ``Dr. Holly Goodhead'' -- Ian Fleming was a satirist, you know) are shown post coitus in an orbiting space shuttle. They are obviously floating in zero gravity, but some mysterious force causes her hair and the sheet covering them to hang earthward.
Astronauts may have sex on the ground, of course, or in bed if they prefer. Apparently this is something that shuttle astronauts Lisa Nowak and Bill Oefelein did, for a couple of years while they were married to other people. Then they broke up and Oefelein took up with Colleen Shipman. On February 5, 2007, Nowak drove 900 miles from her home in Houston to Orlando, Florida, where she confronted Shipman. The confrontation led to charges of attempted kidnapping, burglary with assault and battery against Nowak. Nowak -- at least as of as May 2007 -- and Oefelein were in the Navy. Ironically enough, but not ironically enough to merit a spot in our Nomenclature is destiny entry, Shipman is not in the Navy. She's an Air Force Captain. I guess you could say it was an inter-service rivalry.
News reports described Nowak's 900-mile drive as ``bizarre,'' apparently just because she wore an astronaut diaper so she wouldn't have to stop. Her lawyer has insisted that she didn't wear a diaper, that those were left over in the car from an earlier trip with a baby along.
``People who honestly appreciate gastronomic miracles or in other words really good cooking never worry about their weight while they eat, anymore than a man worries about his heart while having sexual intercourse with a good looking woman.''
[Punctuation and the rest sic.]
But that isn't what prompted my thought of the old saw, because I didn't notice the ``introduction.'' I noticed the facing page, page 3, which begins the Meats section with ``Toulouse Lautrec Chicken.'' An illustration dominates the page. Its caption begins ``This painting is called `Friendship' by Henri de Toulouse Lautrec'' and ends ``[t]he name of this painting is probably one of the greatest understatements ever made.'' The painting shows a reclining couple facing each other; she is topless. At first you don't even notice her hand. (Either it's horribly deformed or that part of the painting wasn't very carefully executed.)
Early in January 2007, when she was in a twelve-step program for her ``addiction issues,'' Lindsay Lohan spent a lot of time sexting Brody Jenner. Brody, the son of Olympian Bruce Jenner, has achieved fame by appearing on a reality show and dating celebutantes. At the time, he had just signed a deal to be a ``spokesman'' for Scope mouthwash. Was he supposed to say things, or just open his mouth? When asked by <Usmagazine.com> to comment on the Lohan story, Jenner said, ``Sorry, dude. I don't text and tell.'' Chivalry is not dead.
The US Congress once designated the entire Commonwealth of Puerto Rico a special economic zone, in fact if not in name, and exempted companies from paying taxes on profits earned from manufacturing there. They sez the system was gamed, and Congress rescinded the tax break in 2006. But after that many companies shuttered their manufacturing plants in PR, and they sez it hurt the economy there. I sez you can't have it all both ways; if rescinding the tax break hurt the economy, it suggests the tax break was helping it (however inefficiently). That wasn't the only problem, but in any case, as of 2016, PR has been on the brink of bankruptcy (a legal remedy that isn't legally available to US territories such as PR -- yet or possibly ever) for a couple of years.
I was first rather pointedly informed of this fact in 1975, but it goes back at least a bit further. Here's an item from a novel published in 1946 (set in 1944 or so; details at the BF entry):
``Wake up,'' someone was saying. ``We're letting down.'' It was broad daylight in the plane, late morning or early afternoon.
``Down where?'' he asked, and he pulled himself together.
``Don't call it that,'' Bob Tasmin said. ``Call it San Francisco. The citizens don't like it.''
Oh look, here's something: at one point, the Italian consulate in San Francisco had the domain name <italconsfrisco.org>. I guess they found out that might not be popular.
You know, people from Cincinnati take no offense at ``Cinci'' (also spelled Cincy) and people from Philadelphia don't mind ``Philly.'' A clerk I spoke with at a Turkey Hill store in Wind Gap, PA, called Pennsylvania ``Pennsy.'' (That's pronounced, and less often spelled, Pencey or Pency. You remember that at the beginning of Catcher in the Rye, Holden is flunking out of his latest prep school? That was Pencey Prep.)
Forget all that stuff about going with flowers in your hair and meeting some gentle people there. Don't worry about checking your heart and forgetting the ticket stub. Eric Burdon needed a fact-checker. All that stuff was propaganda. San Franciscans are just plain thin-skinned.
Hold the phone -- this just in! In response to threatening, um, I mean to characteristically polite email from many beautiful San Franciscisciscans, I am prepared to reveal my recent discovery of the true objection to ``Frisco.'' It's to avoid confusion with Frisco, Colorado, and Frisco, Texas. So considerate!
Maybe we should use ``Frisky'' instead of ``Frisco.'' Someone almost tried that, in fact. I'm thinking of Henry Glover (``with'' Morris Levy -- co-writing or maybe just co-collecting royalties), who wrote the words and music for ``California Sun.''
This charted for the Rivieras just as the British Invasion hit and changed everything. ``California Sun'' was a very representative American song of the era that closed then -- almost an instant antique. I think it was released in 1964; it entered the Top 40 on February 1, 1964 and stayed nine weeks, reaching #5. The Beatles' ``I Want To Hold Your Hand'' had its American release on December 26, 1963, and first appeared on the Top 40 in the January 25, 1964, edition of Billboard. There was a historic mob scene at JFK International Airport when the Beatles landed on February 7, and when they appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show two days later, they could hardly be heard over the screams of their fans. (Eventually, crowd noise was a major factor in the Beatles' decision to stop touring.) ``I Want To Hold Your Hand'' spent 14 weeks in the Top 40, including seven weeks at #1. For the week of April 4, the Beatles owned the top five slots of the Top 40.
(On the web, I've read alternative reports of the chart career of ``California Sun,'' such as that it was held at #2 or toppled from #1 by the Beatles' first American hit. There must be some basis for these reports, but I don't know what it is. I don't think it's the Billboard competitor Cashbox. The #5 ranking and associated dates are from the 7th and 8th editions (which were ready to my hand) of Joel Whitburn's The Billboard Book of Top 40 Hits. What has been popularly known as the ``Top 40'' since mid-1958 is the top 40 slots of the Billboard ``Hot 100,'' based on both sales and airplay.)
The Rivieras, you'll want to know, formed when the members were in high school in South Bend, Indiana, and had some success playing clubs in the area. They were variously described as playing surf, garage, teen, and frat rock. ``California Sun'' was their one hit. There were a number of personnel changes, partly caused by the draft, and they broke up in 1966. (Not for good -- they got together again in the 80's.) Anyway, that Glover song includes these lines:
Well the girls are frisky in ol' 'Frisco --
A pretty little chick wherever you go.
The ECLIPSE website hosts areas for Doom, Dr. Who, Captain Power (Captain Who?), and Babylon 5. In 1998 ECLIPSE won a lot of web awards, but it's getting tougher all the time.
There's an on-line Ultimate Science Fiction Poetry Guide.
Traditionally, a distinction is observed between SF, meaning ``hard-core'' Science Fiction, and sci-fi, which may be more fantasy-oriented, with ``fantasy'' often in the sense of wish fulfillment. However, non-SF sci-fi enthusiasts by and large do not cooperate in maintaining this (sometimes loose) distinction.
SFA ``is the international trade association of the snack food industry representing snack manufacturers and suppliers. Founded in 1937, SFA represents over 800 companies worldwide. SFA business membership includes, but is not limited to, manufacturers of potato chips, tortilla chips, cereal snacks, pretzels, popcorn, cheese snacks, snack crackers, meat snacks, pork rinds, snack nuts, party mix, corn snacks, pellet snacks [I think they mean M&M's and similar foods, and not bird food], fruit snacks, snackbars, granola, snack cakes, cookies and various other snacks.''
The italics on the not-limited clause serve to highlight the differences of opinion that necessarily exist on the question of what exactly qualifies as a ``snack food.'' The book Snack Food (1990), edited by R. Gordon Booth, includes in the category of snack foods pickles, sauces, and salted jellyfish. Somewhat at the opposite extreme is Snack Food Technology (1993) by Samuel A. Matz, (details at the snack food entry). Matz prefers to exclude the three aforementioned items as well as candy, although he concedes in his preface that ``a good case could be made for including all such materials in the wider category `snacks'.''
Matz's laudable fastidiousness leads to admirable caution in the case of granola, but also to excessive indecision. For example, the introduction of chapter 18, on ``Meat-Based Snacks,'' begins
There are several snacks composed primarily of raw materials derived from animals [he's not thinking of milk-chocolate-coated caramel here]. Almost every consumer would agree that fried puffed bacon rinds are snacks [hadn't we better take a survey?], because their texture, appearance, and flavor resemble those characteristics of puffed or fried cereal snacks [he must be thinking mouthfeel here; I don't recall pork rinds tasting like cocoa puffs], and they are sold in portion-size pouches for eating mostly between regularly scheduled meals. ...(Emphasis added.)
From various fortune files, here's
For all P, where P is a package of snack food, P is a SINGLE-SERVING package of snack food.
What's this ``regularly scheduled meals'' business? I take my food item when I'm hungry. As the French say: Consume mass quantities!
There is membership for individuals, students (who get a discount relative to individuals), and institutions. The principal (and only testable) criterion for membership is subscription to the quarterly journal French Historical Studies (FHS). It's pretty inexpensive, but if you're homeless, where would they deliver? I guess they're just not interested in serving the French Historical Studies needs of the North American homeless community.
The similar British organization is the Society for the Study of French History (SSFH).
Apparently there have been ``allegations of malpractice'' in Indonesia and China. There might be fraud and there might not, but judging from what I know of Latin America, the fact of bribery does not imply fraud. I mean, at least in Latin America, everyone knows what the deal is, so no one is really deceived. So bribery isn't fraudulent -- at worst it's just a little bit coy.
Initially deployed for a nominal one-year mission, they're digging in for the long haul. Gilligan's Island was a sitcom launched by a three-hour tour.
While a lot of the leftist ``underground'' newspapers disappeared along with the antiwar movement when active US involvement ended, many academic journals of the left, founded in a similar spirit, have survived as alternatives to the perceived orthodoxy when their disciplines. Examples besides the SftP (which suggests soft porn to my filthy mind) are Radical Teacher, Insurgent Sociologist (a newsletter turned journal which dumped the activism and became Critical Sociology in 1988), Issues in Radical Therapy (like, what kind of prosthesis should I get after radical mastectomy?), Conspiracy, Madness Network News, Radical Philosopher's Newsjournal, and Sipapu.
Among major history journals, Radical America, Radical History Review (see MARHO), and Socialist Revolution survived into the late 1980's, but the last renamed itself Socialist Review.
``Even though oxygen is flowing, the bag may not inflate.''
Please bring your tray tables and seat backs to their locked and upright positions, and not vice versa.
If you are traveling with or seated next to a child, put your own mask on first and then assist the child.
If this is your final destination, may God have mercy on your soul.
Insert the metal tip into the buckle, then pull on the loose end to tighten the belt. To release the belt, simply pull forward on the buckle. Here, let me help you with that.
This is your last and final boarding call. The one before was just your last boarding call. Yeah, it can get confusing.
Because of the short duration of this flight, we will not have beverage service; however, if I can help in any way, please do not hesitate to call me by pressing the yellow button above your seat.
``Yes, could I have a warm soda, and some peanuts and small pretzels in a steel-reinforced, rip-stop kevlar bag, please?''
This concludes the entertainment portion of our flight.
Do not inflate life vest while you are inside the aircraft.
Learn more at its entry in WebElements and its entry at Chemicool.
If it seems odd to you that the Coptic form of Peter should begin in a b sound rather than a p sound, see the BATA Shoe Museum entry.
alt.music.paul-simonin the days when writing newsgroup FAQ's was popular. Unfortunately, and quite surprisingly, as of August 2007 I can't find any copy of it on the web. To judge from the number of links to now-defunct websites for Paul Simon, Art Garfunkel, or both, it seems there's been a severe fall-off in interest in them or their music in the twenty-first century. Here are a few certified live (by me) as of this month:
The Net Advance of Physics site has some entries in this category.
A common question posed by the name of any society ``for <foobar>'' is whether the society promotes <foobar> or studies it -- i.e., is really a society ``for the study of <foobar>.'' (Vide UDI.) Often common sense will resolve the ambiguity. In the case of philosophies, one expects both meanings to be intended to some degree. That is, most philosophers are disinclined to study a philosophical system unless they find some element of truth in it or at least clever argumentation, so they might be expected to promote it as well.
Conversely, you can't honestly promote a philosophy you don't study. I mean, you could promote a combination dustmop-plunger without studying it -- you might just use it in the living room or bathroom. It's good for something (there's that word again) if it's any good at all. In contrast with Swiss-Army plumbers' helpers, philosophies (probably especially idealist philosophies) don't do anything. They don't have any moving parts, but they're too soft to use as hammers and too thin for pillows. Navel-gazing is the paradigmatic dog that don't hunt. Again, people: common sense.
Common sense is not something one associates with Immanuel Kant (1724-1804). Naturally, he developed a cult of slavish followers. The joke went that if the post coach was late from Koenigsberg, the Kantians wouldn't know what to think that day. (Kant, as I'm sure you remember now, spent all of his life within a few miles of his hometown of Koenigsberg. He was only intellectually wide-ranging. Late in life, he decided to take a trip abroad, but he aborted the trip after a few minutes' riding.)
This links to a randomly selected page with some stuff about SGML.
Oh, great: in May 1998 they changed their name to STMicroelectronics. With rebus names like this, it's no wonder the old acronym/initialism distinction broke down. Now I'll never find out what it stood for. Part of the SGS Group of companies.
The state's area is 15,771 sq. km. Its population was 2,554,000 by the census of 1987, estimated at 2,759,000 for 1997.
Green Stamps were introduced in 1896 by the Sperry and Hutchinson Company, and originally used by Merchants Supply Company of Bridgeport, Connecticut. Green stamps are not as popular as they once were. In fact, they've completely disappeared. Unfortunately, the S&H Co. survived, and now markets ``S&H greenpoints: The Next Generation of Loyalty Marketing.'' According to the greenpoints site, the year 1964 was milestone:
The S&H catalog becomes the largest single publication in the US. S&H prints 3 times as many stamps as the US Post Office, and enough catalogs to circle the earth 1 1/2 times!
Also ``by the 1960's, S&H was the largest purchaser of consumer products in the world.''
Once, ``Tesseral Harmonic'' was a common name as well.
You know, boys and girls, there was a time when a certain natural biological phenomenon, consequent to the one not actually described in any of the preceding three terms, was considered too indelicate to name directly. To be blunt, by the standards of that time, the word pregnant was considered coarse, even obscene. As recently as the 1890's, I think, the standard term was ``in a family way.'' In the fifties, polite incoherent references to rabbit fatality were standard, and ``with child'' was still a bit, mmm, direct. (Sex education was conducted entirely in Morse Code. That's why boys learned Morse Code. It's no coincidence that codeless licensing has become the norm as the moral fiber of our nation has gone to hell.) Intransitive ``expecting'' was a common expression. Depends where you lived, of course. Did you notice the comment on embarazo near the end of the TP entry?
When I'm trying to figure out which door to take, I always have to remember this fact about concrete nouns named on doors: in other cases the signs name what you can get inside, on a public restroom it names what you can take inside.
I always assumed that two bits (25 cents) had covered both the shave and the haircut. Maybe it once did, but here's a relevant item from The Niles Daily Star (of Niles, Michigan). It was front-page news on Saturday, August 12, 1933: ``Many Niles Barbers Revise Price Charge'':
Many Niles barber shops have adopted a price schedule of 25 cents for shaves and 35 cents for haircuts. The Master Barbers' association has submitted a code calling for a 25 cent shave and a 50 cent haircut, which the local barbers had agreed to adopt. But many have found that 50 cents for a haircut is considered exorbitant by old customers, and have reduced the price.
In the same newspaper on the same day, ``Cleaners Raise Prices'' only made page 2:
The wearing apparel cleaners of Niles have made a slight increase in their prices to correspond with increases in overhead costs of boxes, bags, and other supplies [no mention of soap!] ... Cleaners in South Bend, Benton Harbor, St. Joseph and other surrounding towns have already advanced their prices. The National Industrial Recovery Act [NIRA, q.v., which was struck down by the Supreme Court in 1935] code for cleaners has not yet been put into effect but with the increase in prices the cleaners will observe the NRA blanket code for wages and hours.
Oh --it's Atlas's stamina! When Billy Batson shouts this powerful incantatory acronym, he is transformed into red tights and white cape with gold trim, becoming The World's Mightiest Mortal! (Captain Marvel!)
When his sister Mary shouts SHAZAM!, it stands for Selene (grace), Hippolyta (strength), Ariadne (skill), Zephyr (speed), Aurora (beauty), and Minerva (wisdom)! (Mary Marvel!)
``Howard Coward'' would be a () good or ( ) bad idea for a name?
Now back to the entry.
The Society is dedicated to the study of Hinduism and Christianity and their interrelationships. It seeks to create a forum for the presentation of historical research and studies of contemporary practice, for the fostering of dialogue and interreligious conversation, carried forward in a spirit of openness, respect and true inquiry.
This overview page of nucleus models has a link to an extended technical description (dvi).
In the colorful old nondecimal British system, a pound was divided into shillings and pence as described above, and these were abbreviated s. and d., for solidus and denarius, the Latin equivalents. (I have no idea how justified these equivalences might have been initially, but since few Roman solidi or denarii were in circulation, it can't ever have been much of an issue.) Anyway, prices were commonly stated using expressions like ``4 shillings 11,'' meaning 4s.11d. The s. was necessary to separate the numbers, while the written d., like the spoken ``pence,'' was implicit. A long ess (for an explanation see esh) was originally common. As the long ess glyph went out of use, it was replaced either by the now-standard short ess glyph or by a forward slash, which also came to be called ``solidus.''
In most of the German states, the cognate word Schilling was used with same sense (solidus, 12 Pfennig). In Bavaria and Austria the situation was more complicated.
Swedish Housemate: We could use ships!
Me (a landlubber): Ships?
SH: Yes! Maybe could rent them. Probably one would be enough.
Me: What would we do with ships?
SH: The ships would eat the grass!
SH: Yes, ships! You know, ``bah-bah''! Wool!
Me: Sheeps? Sheep! You #%#%!*-ing *@&^#%-ous *$%@^#*! The plural of sheep is sheep!
``A few years ago'' above refers to 1981. An article in the 24 July 2004 New Scientist (pp. 52-3 of the North American edition) is entitled ``The sheep that launched 1000 ships.'' It seems that Norse ships had woolen sails. They recommend visiting the Viking Ship Museum in Roskilde.
An article in the November 2, 2011, New York Times is entitled ``Sheep Lawn Mowers, and Other Go-Getters.'' http://www.nytimes.com/2011/11/03/garden/sheep-lawn-mowers-and-other-go-getters.html?pagewanted=2 Japanese sheep go `boo, boo.' As a consequence of drift in the pronunciation of the Greek alphabet, ancient Greek sheep now go `vee, vee.' (For more on this, kindly proceed to the entry on the letter ni.)
At the beginning of Ivanhoe, Scott explains that after the Norman conquest the Saxons still herded the sheep and cattle, but the Normans ate the mutton and beef. Hence Germanic words for the animal names, and Romance names for the food names. Linguists are not convinced.
For more on sheep, see the OPT entry.
You want to know what it really means? I'm not sure I should tell you. You might lose respect for me. I'll tell you what: I'll pass along the definition at the Medicare glossary, but I won't endorse it.
A special type of health plan that provides the full range of Medicare benefits offered by standard Medicare HMOs, plus other services that include the following:(Prescription drug and chronic care benefits, respite care, and short-term nursing home care; homemaker, personal care services, and medical transportation; eyeglasses, hearing aids, and dental benefits.)
I foresee that this could cause problems when budget-line 6.1 is explained to the top military brass.
One thing that I learned from the Moonies is that you don't try to sell the the Brooklyn Bridge to someone from Brooklyn. [When I was over 'their place on Bush street in San Francisco in '79, and they were dissembling their true identity, my minder tried to explain their putatively independent group with a ``flow chart.'' It amazed me that they got any recruits at all. (Well, okay, they had this young woman guarding the door, and when I was down there putting my shoes back on to leave, she tried to persuade me to stay or come back. She was really beautiful; I guess their recruitment efforts weren't totally inept.) More about that experience at the Washington entry.]
A constituent society of the ACLS since 1973. ACLS has an overview.
Love the acronym. The year of SHOT's founding, 1958, is not exactly some random year that it all happened to finally come together. Rather, 1958 was the year following Sputnik -- start of the Soviet space program that first put man and dog (not in that order) in orbit around our little planet. It sent the US into panic, in fear that we were quickly falling behind the Rooskies in various important military and industrial technologies, and the government gave a big SHOT in the arm to academic science and technology research, in large part via NSF. Funding grew about exponentially, right through the Vietnam war, until 1970, when someone turned off the spigot, but that's another story. At the beginning, the NSF didn't invest much in social science. If some money was going to the social science for appearances' sake, though, you can imagine that history of science and technology (HST) were bound to be favored.
Nouning the parts of speech most reluctant to be nouned seems to be a habit peculiar to psychiatrists and psychologists. Freud did it with singular personal pronouns (vide id). (You know, it's nothing but sheer declensional luck that it construes out properly here in Latin too.)
Wayne W. Dyer, a doctor of psychology, wrote a book called Your Erroneous Zones (details at the F.O.O.L. entry). In a section entitled ``The Folly of Shoulds, Musts and Oughts,'' he gasps that ``Karen Horney, the brilliant psychiatrist, has devoted an entire chapter of Neurosis and Human Growth to this topic [please, please tell me that she also wrote about frustrated sexual desire], and she titles it `The Tyranny of the Should.' She comments:
The shoulds always produce a feeling of strain, which is all the greater the more a person tries to actualize his shoulds in his behavior. . . . Furthermore, because of externalizations, the shoulds always contribute to disturbance in human relations in one way or another.*Do shoulds determine much of your life? Do you feel you should [sic] be kind to your colleagues, supportive of your spouse, helpful to your children and always work hard? [Then you're a Calvinist! Oh, sorry--got carried away, I guess. I didn't mean to interrupt. Dyer continues...] And if at any time you fail in one of these shoulds do you berate yourself [Jewish? Catholic?] and hence take on that strain and disturbance [flagellant?] to which Karen Horney alludes above? But perhaps these are not your shoulds. If, in fact, they belong to others [give them back! stealing is wrong!] and you have merely borrowed them [oh sure], then you are musterbating. [Bad boy!]''
* Karen Horney, Neurosis and Human Growth (New York: W. W. Norton & Co., 1950), p. 81.
Hey, I just [96.10.31] attended the ND SHPE/MAES meeting, and it was impressive: newbie self-introductions, new business, old business, four speakers, a social chairman appointed by default, pizza before and after, chatting before and after, all in a half hour!
The line is attributed to JFK, that Washington DC, has northern hospitality and southern efficiency.
What was I thinking when I wrote this entry?
Step One: stack 'em up like cord wood and wait for them to dry.
Since this is one of the few social history entries in the glossary, it's a good place to mention one of the few social history observations I have made. It has to do with the NTU homepage linked above. It shows one guy with a fake grin in the foreground and another guy half-heartedly stretching a grimace in the background. They have their hands in their pockets, which is apparently all they can do to keep from folding their arms across their chests. This isn't personal, this is social. In American society, smiling is not frowned upon. People are not assumed to be stupid just because they are happy. Optimism is good. In personals ads (I admit that I have looked at personals ads, okay?) the women are usually smiling, and they're not doing it to look clueless. European women in personals ads look irritated or at best serious. They're sophisticated to death. Cool like a gravedigger's ass. When they smile, they often wear that fake smile of the guy on the NTU page: lips pried or curled apart, eyes uninvolved or angry. They've forgotten what a happy smile feels like, so they don't realize that they're practically sneering. I don't need to read what the studies say about how happy Europeans tell posters they are -- I know: these people demand to be disappointed. Crack a real smile, FCOL! It won't kill you. Read the .dk entry. Now. See also my comments on the look at the english entry.
(Incidentally, I recognize that the, um, candid student shots are posed and need not reflect the personalities of the models. This makes it worse: the poses reflect what a photographer's experience accepts as normal and acceptable.)
When begun in 2000 the journal was intended as a local Estonian project, but international contributions have been invited since May 2002.
There's A Guide to Virtual Slovenia. Ariadne, ``The European and Mediterranean link resource for Research, Science and Culture,'' has a page of national links.
For the Y2K edition, twenty models posed for a total of about 130,000 shots (in Las Alamandas, Mexico) of which about 100 were eventually used (not sure all 20 models appeared in the issue either). I dunno, man, that sounds suspiciously like the case of all those nude scenes that are filmed for the benefit of the cutting-room floor. Appearing in the SI swimsuit issue is such a boost for the models' careers that they accept union scale -- $300/day in 1999 -- instead of the thousands per shoot they usually command.
You're probably thinking: everyone knows that SI stands for Sports Illustrated, the swimsuit-issue magazine, so this entry is superfluous. Absolutely everyone knows about the swimsuit issue, right?
For months each Spring, it's prominently displayed in its own case in all drugstores. No one could miss it, right? Au contraire! Newsmaking counterexample coming.
Here's a start.
Here's an end, because I'm too lazy to write any more.
Hey, I'm back! Here's another.
The voice of the revolution.
Some instant conversions.
Some bad puns based on numerical SI prefixes.
Producer (copyright-holder) of l'APh.
As an electronic material, SiC is interesting as a compound semiconductor grown by epitaxial techniques. There are upwards of 180 different microscopic structures assumed by epi-SiC, but three are of greatest interest for electronic applications -- 3C, 4H, and 6H. In this notation, C stands for cubic symmetry and H for hexagonal, and the number represents the inverse stacking period. I.e., 3C is a cubic structure in which the atomic pattern repeats with a period of three layers, etc. 3C-SiC has a band gap of 2.3 eV, 4H and 6H are larger (I think I recall). 3C-SiC has a relative dielectric constant of 9.7, 4H and 6H have 10. All have a thermal conductivity of about 4 W/K-cm (cf. about 1.3 for GaN, 0.3? for GaAs). All have high dielectric breakdown fields; 3C is lowest with 1.8 × 106 V/m.
Is it politically correct to criticize culture?
It seems that the principal comparison is between East and West.
It's interesting to note that the word expanding the second ess of
the head term here, suelo, means `soil' outdoors and `floor' indoors
(so it sort of designates whatever is the surface underfoot). The words for
sky and ceiling work somewhat similarly: sky is cielo and
ceiling is cielo raso (literally `flat sky'). (This is also
commonly written cielorraso, which has the pronunciation: initial
r is the same phoneme as intervocalic
The word cielo is sometimes used alone for ceiling. The words
suelo and cielo differ by only a single sound in Latin America
and parts of Andalucia (i.e., the consonants in su and ci are the same).
A close synonym of suelo is piso. Both words are common, and though they have different shades of meaning, I doubt that the distinctions are consistent across the Spanish-speaking world. In the Argentine dialect, or maybe just in my idiolect, suelo is more likely than piso to be used in the figurative sense of an abstract lower bound (like a price floor), and piso is more likely than suelo to refer to the surface of the floor (the `flooring').
There are various other partly synonymous words. Techo is a surface overhead, so a cielorraso (sometimes pronounced and spelled cieloraso) is one kind of techo, and azotea (`roof') is another. [In my dialect, however, the word azotea is rare and techo is implicitly `roof.' Also in my dialect, tierra (`ground') is the common word for the material soil. Tierra is the universal Spanish term for electronic ground. To land (an airplane) is aterrizar (un avión).]
Typical sidework includes refilling salt and pepper shakers, topping off bottles of ketchup and hot sauce, folding silverware into narrow florets of napkin, inserting lists of specials into menus (or attaching them in some way), changing place settings for different meals (coffee cups and saucers for breakfast, etc.), and assembling pizza boxes and the like. It may even include -- gasp -- actual food preparation, like chopping vegetables. Until the 1990's, mating ketchup bottles was still a common sort of sidework, but plastic ketchup bottles have now taken over.
Busboys' sidework tends to be more about clean-up, but there's some overlap and practices vary. (Yes, busboy is used in the generic sense that includes busgirls.) In some places, particularly buffet-style restaurants and smaller family-run restaurants, the jobs of waitress and busboy are combined. During reliably slow periods, a restaurant may temporarily do without busboys and waitresses. I have the impression that increasingly, large restaurant chains are using fewer busboys. The Charlie Brown's chain of steakhouses, in New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and New York, used busboys for until 2007, but when I was there twice in July 2008, they were nowhere in evidence.
Technically, the full name is Sociadad Iberolatino Americana de Neurorradiología Diagnóstica y Terapéutica (or Sociadade Ibero-Latino-Americana de Neurorradiologia Diagnostica y Terapêutica). That would be `diagnostic and therapeutic neuroradiology.'
SILAN used to publish RILAN (Revista ...) and IJNR (International Journal of NeuroRadiology).
The traditional argument that Greek alphabetic writing began in the mid-eighth century BCE is based on just such an argument: the earliest datable examples of Greek writing (graffiti on some pottery) is from that era. (There is alternative argument, based on similarity of character forms, that Greek alphabetic writing was borrowed from Phoenician script of the eleventh century.)
I'm familiar with this term from a lifetime in the ring, just like the late Dr. Joyce Brothers. Okay, maybe I had a reminder when I read an article mentioned at this worth-following-the-link entry. The person quoted using the term there is Teddy Atlas, and according to Rudy Reyes' Hero Living: Seven Strides to Awaken Your Infinite Power (2009), it was Atlas who originally coined the term.
In the US, it was a widespread practice to have musical accompaniment for silent movies. Each movie house would have a regular band or orchestra. The players became very adept at playing snippets appropriate to the scene -- and of course, the same movies were played repeatedly. It must have been a very special kind of medley, with opportunities for an unusual kind of jam. Anyway, when the talkies came, all those guys were out of a job -- just in time to join the rest of the country in being depressed.
In Italy a bad Anglophone accent (i.e., an ordinary Anglophone pronunciation of Italian) is referred to as ``Stanlio e Ollio.'' That's for Stanley (Laurel) and Oliver (Hardy), and the expression is still used today. Laurel and Hardy made the transition to sound, so they made some of the earliest talkies. With the original technology, the soundtrack had to be recorded simultaneously with the picture -- the sound couldn't be dubbed in later. So for the foreign market, the actors redid the scenes and they or voice actors did the dialogue in the new target language. Evidently, this worked best with movies that weren't meant to be taken too seriously in the first place. Laurel and Hardy didn't know Italian, so when they spoke their lines ``phonetically'' they were wonderfully inaccurate and funny. They did many versions of their first full length talkie (``Pardon Us,'' about a prison break), distributed under various titles and refilmed with some (not all) different actors who occasionally knew the language, but they seem to have been most successful in Italian.
See: S.P. Murarka: Silicides for VLSI Applications (Orlando, Fla.: Academic Press, 1983).
Facts that absolutely everyone should know in their sleep: silicon has an indirect band gap of 1.11 eV, density-of-states masses of 1.1 times the free-electron mass for the conduction band, and 0.56 for the valence band.
James McNeill Whistler is best remembered for a portrait of his mother Anna (the painting is called ``Arrangement in Grey and Black''). He was born of that woman in July, 10, 1834. Not that that date is particularly important, but I just wanted to state it that way. In June 1854, he was a cadet at West Point.
Second Lt. Caleb Huse commenced Whistler's chemistry examination by asking the cadet to discuss silicon. ``I am required to discuss the subject of silicon,'' Whistler responded. ``Silicon is a gas.'' ``That will do, Mr. Whistler,'' interrupted Huse. In thirteen words Whistler failed chemistry and flunked out at West Point. Much later Whistler insisted, ``Had silicon been a gas, I would have been a major general.''(This is excerpted from Emory M. Thomas's 1995 biography of another General -- Robert E. Lee.)
(Comic strip image above is a mirror of http://www.asiaonline.net.hk/lilywong/images/lily2149.gif)
As if things weren't already complicated enough: in Spanish, silicon is silicio and silicone is silicón.
There's an article by Bernard S. Meyerson in the March 1994 Scientific American on High-Speed Silicon-Germanium Electronics. The touted technology was silicon-germanium heterojunction bipolar transistors.
It is also a good diffusion barrier for alkali atoms.
CVD of nitride typically uses
This archived usenet posting mentions safety standards, but these are all based on raw experience. The underlying physics of dispersed particle movement is only now beginning to be studied in a way that is at all scientific.
As long as we've mentioned sieben, we might as well mention that at different times during the latter half of the eighteenth century and into the beginning of the nineteenth, the Habsburg Empire issued a 7-Kreuzer coin that was informally known as the Siebener. The name of another, more popular coin was used in the sense of silver (yeah -- that's what the entry's about!) even though its name has nothing etymologically to do with silver: Groschen.
Every 5 or 10 miles on double track there's a pair of crossovers. The signal before the crossovers has a right-hand feather indicating a move to the right-hand ("wrong") line. There are then no signals until the next crossover, where there's a signal guarding the crossover.
A D B C B B B A Normal flow |-O O-| |-O O-| |-O |-O |-O |-O of traffic: =====*=*=================================================*=*====== --> X X =====*=*=================================================*=*====== <-- O-| O-| O-| O-| |-O O-| |-O A B B B C B D
Because they are only operated by the track circuits, when a train is running on the wrong line the automatic signals facing the other way stay green, then change to yellow and red as the train approaches, then turn back to green.
[*] On four-aspect lines there are two repeaters; the first shows green or double yellow; the second shows green or single or double yellow.
Something like the SIMD idea is implemented in serial machines by superscalar instructions, called MMX technology in Pentium processors (also used in AMD K6-2 processors, etc.).
Here's some more explanation.
Such confusions are less likely in Portuguese (sem and sim for `without' and `yes,' respectively), to say nothing of Italian (senza and si) or French (sans and oui). The words for without here all come from the Latin sine. The regular sound shifts would and in fact did yield sen in Spanish. The form with e was still common in medieval Castilian, and continues as the standard form in Catalan today. The form with i superseded it in modern Spanish, however. According to Corominas y Pascual, this change is unexplained. For Germanic words with the meaning of without, see ohne.
In certain situations, even though distortion is significant, plain old signal-to-noise (SNR) is a more appropriate figure of merit.
I imagine this is a homophone of psyop. Psyop might even be part of SIOP.
When this product was new, the ``metal'' gates in many MOS transistors were still often made of elemental or alloy metal (i.e. really of metal). The SIPMOS name indicates the use of gates made out of highly doped semiconductor instead (degenerately-doped silicon, to be precise). This silicon is polycrystalline because it is deposited over an oxide layer. MOS gates function essentially as capacitor plates, so low resistivity is not very important for low-frequency operation. The conduction channel between source and drain, on the other hand, must have excellent electron mobility and very low trap density, and for all practical purposes is made of single-crystal silicon. (Indeed, even though the MOS concept is simpler, and the first patent for an IGFET was issued as early as 1935, bipolar transistors were commercialized for more than a decade before MOS technology became viable. MOS simply had to wait for a cleaner manufacturing process. That cleaner process was developed by continual improvements in the manufacture of bipolar technology. Now the roles are reversed, and bipolar manufacture piggy-backs on developments made primarily to improve MOS fabrication.)
Because the drain and source carry substantial current (compared to the gate), high conductivity is desirable there also. In any case, the geometry of the fabrication process makes the source and drain out of the same single-crystal material as the channel. So polycrystalline silicon (polysilicon, Polysilizium in German, or just poly for short) implies polysilicon gate.
Moreover, bothering to mention the polysilicon in the name implies something else as well: since polysilicon gates quickly became standard, it implies that the acronym was created early on in the development of polysilicon MOS, or it would have been nothing distinctive enough to mention in the name. That is the case here: SIPMOS is a form of enhancement-mode DMOS. DMOS uses diffusion rather than implantation to dope the channel. This tends to make coarser features, and for integrated electronics, diffusion was generally replaced by implantation and by self-alignment process (see SAG). SIPMOS was for discrete devices, and at this point the P might as well stand for power, since the main attractive features of SIPMOS are voltage ratings to 1kV and current ratings to 30A. (I don't know a maximum power rating, but it must be less than 30kW.)
(For those of you unfamiliar with the pronunciation of the word sister, it goes just like the beginning of the word cistercian, up to but not including the third sibilant, except that the stress goes on the first syllable. HTH!)
By the end of the 1970's, most of the previously all-male schools had gone coed, as had most of the sister schools. Perhaps the latter should now be called ex-sister-schools or something, but that's a bit cumbersome and there's an alternate solution. Evidently in the interests of egalitarian language, the term ``brother school'' has come into use. This is a useful term and clear enough, even if the relationships of brother and sister schools are not entirely symmetric, and it sanctions the continued use of the otherwise anachronistic term ``sister school.''
If you're really eager to go to a particular school, whether you're male or female (and especially if you're male or female), you might want to apply to the sister school as a safety. Nowadays students at the sister school typically have a partnership that allows students at the sister school to take classes at the brother school. If you're a lesbian or a straight male, you'll probably also appreciate how the student body stacks up. (Of course, the majority of US college campuses today are decidedly majority-female anyway.)
There's generally a big push on in the late nineties to finally come up with a solid-state replacement for the vacuum devices, such as traveling-wave tubes (TWT's) and klystrons, that are used in high-power applications (1kW and up, for cellular and satellite base stations and such). Wide band-gap compound semiconductors are a great hope in this hot area. As of fall 1998, Northrup-Grumman was selling a power amplifier based on SiC SIT's.
You must not be deceived by an accent, or by the workingman's easy way they have of sitting on a hard bench as though they were used to it. These are book men. Their political faith is philosophic anarchism, and they know its literature from Kropotkin down.
In chapter 4 of The Great Gatsby (1925), Nick comments on Mr. Gatsby:
He was balancing himself on the dashboard of his car with that resourcefulness of movement that is so peculiarly American--that comes, I suppose, with the absence of lifting work or rigid sitting in youth and, even more, with the formless grace of our nervous, sporadic games. This quality was continually breaking through his punctilious manner in the shape of restlessness. He was never quite still; there was always a tapping foot somewhere or the impatient opening and closing of a hand.
Quick: What state is it in?
Hint: there's no SIU in Idaho, Indiana (but see USI), or Iowa. The situation is similar with NIU.
Why does this look familiar?
Oh no. The hallowed stacks of our holy library have been desecrated: Juran Institute's Six Sigma Breakthrough and Beyond: Quality Performance Breakthrough Methods. With a foreword by Joseph M. Juran! A book administered into existence (possibly even written, I don't know) by Joseph A. De Feo and William W. Barnard. De Feo means `of ugly' in Modern Spanish, but Feo probably originally meant something like `faith' in this context.
Hey wait a second -- Six Sigma has spawned a bunch of initialisms! So it's good for something.
Here are some lists of Jesuit Universities. See also the Association of Jesuit Colleges and Universities (AJCU) and AUSJAL.
Oh, here's something hot off the press -- on October 12, 2000, not even a full century after Oscar Wilde's deathbed conversion to Roman Catholicism (he died Nov. 30, 1900)! A Jesuit quarterly, La Civilita Cattolica, has rehabilitated Mr. Wilde. As evidence of Wilde's interest in the Catholic church, Spadaro wrote that Wilde wanted to go to a Jesuit retreat upon his release from prison in 1897. The Jesuits asked him to wait a year as a test that his desire was real.
Someone who was more careful about his posthumous religious condition was An interesting comparison may be drawn with George Santayana. The Spanish-born Santayana was an American philosopher, part of the intellectual and cultural social circles that included E. M. Forster, Robert Lowell, John Maynard Keynes, Bertrand Russell, Lytton Strachey, and Ludwig Wittgenstein. (I feel so dirty introducing someone who needed no introduction, but Santayana's stock took a swift dive after his death in 1952, aet. 90. Today he is remembered, if at all, for a few aphorisms in his voluminous writings.) Santayana was an atheist, but he was a decidedly Roman Catholic atheist. He identified both with Catholicism, and against Protestantism, but he didn't accept Catholicism. It seems to be a recurring theme: he was regarded as an American, published in English, worked and spent most of his life in America, but he harbored fundamental reservations against America. Then again, nowadays that's not so unusual for an academic. He remained a Spanish subject until his death. It's hard to summarize or perhaps to make sense of his religious views, but it's fair to say that he regarded Roman Catholicism as a more legitimate or appropriate form of error than other religions. Do not tell me this is unreasonable; he was a philosopher, so he could believe anything. I only mention all this to say that he spent the last decade of his long life at a home run by the Blue Nuns in Rome. (I'm only going to explain once: Blue Nun is a white wine; blue nuns are unhappy nuns of ordinary coloration; the Blue Nuns are an Irish order that wears blue habits.) Recognizing the nuns' earnest desire for his salvation, he left explicit instructions to his executors that even if, in his dying moments, he should happen to nod in apparent acceptance and be given last rites, it should be understood that he nodded just to get the nuns and priests to stop pestering him, and that his apparent acquiescence should under no circumstances be misconstrued as a deathbed conversion. Aaah, give it a rest. For an alternative attitude, see assassination, political.
A note about the use of S.J. following a name: it may mean that the man is a Roman Catholic priest in the Jesuit Order, but it may also mean that he is a ``brother'' (i.e., not a priest). (A similar practice applies to O.P.)
Traditionally (i.e., until some time after the middle of the twentieth century), Jesuits wore black robes. One of my father's Catholic school teachers, whenever discovered by his students at the race track, would habitually joke that underneath his pants, he was wearing his black robe. In some places and times, ``black robe'' could be a synecdoche for Jesuit. For an example, see the black monks entry.
Generally speaking, if you get an audience with the pope and you don't have a standard religious habit, it's good to wear black. It's just generally respectful and gets things off to a smooth start, so long as the pope is not comatose. And if you're female, don't wear anything too daring, if you know what I mean.
Incidentally, the explanatory quote dissected above is from a flyer distributed by the Pre-Vet Club [oooh, just missed a good pun opportunity by one letter] and the Biology Club at the University of Notre Dame. They sponsored a ``Domer Doggy Walk'' on September 28, 2008. Events included a ``Blessing of the Dogs.'' That reminds me that before my father was kicked out of Catholic elementary school, for taking an emergency piss in the neighborhood of a Virgin Mary statue or idol or whatever, he was taught the Latin prayers needed to administer ultimate unction, again in case of emergency. It gets me to wondering whether these things can be done with the speaking parts done remotely (see the Joyce ACC entry for some evidence regarding that) by teleconference, or with a tape-recording or synthesized voice or parrot or a talking dog named Fido.
A trio of contests was scheduled for 2pm: ``Friendliest dog,'' ``Best trick,'' and -- was there a prize for this? -- ``Best owner/dog look-alike.'' One of the activities (noon to 3pm) was ``Doggie Tattoos.'' Now every dog can be, or at least have, a ``Spot.'' I suppose they could also get one of those stylized hearts with a ribbon across the middle saying ``Bitch.''
So I'm told. Never read them myself, of course.
I swear, people are willing to believe all kinds of I-won't-say-it! (Note that here I don't mean what-I-won't-say literally.) The world needs experts trained in logic -- philosophers -- to enable them to think. It's a wonder ordinary people ever come to a valid conclusion, if they do. Hmmm, that reminds me: for a sociological analysis, see the dirty underwear entry.
There's a joke at least as old as the people who wear such tee shirts, that madness is genetic -- you get it from your children.
As was apparent from the early advertising campaigns, Hershey wanted to give the bar a Scandinavian appeal, and may have chosen a word which would be likely to be pronounced ``score'' to suggest some erotic reference to various blondes acting in the ads. FWIW, however, the Swedish word which means `score' is spelled skår. The Swedish word skor means `shoes,' which might be read as suggesting that the caramel is as tough as leather. (For another unfortunate name associated with shoes, see the incubus entry.)
Also, Skôr is (nominative singular) `dung' in ancient Greek. (Just to jog your memory, and to draw the connection with useful words like scatological, see the WGASA entry.) For other infelicitously named ingestible products, see BM, Colon, Dropsy, Mental, and Sucrets. I figure slime phone rates a mention too, since it is brought close to the mouth.
The women on the crew of the Enterprise in ST:TOS. Grace Lee Whitney played hot Yeoman Janice Rand in the first half of the first season of ST, and her skort... well, one often speaks (spoke? sporked?) of a garment ``flattering a woman's figure,'' but I'm not sure of the appropriate terminology for a garment that reveals by revealing. Anyway, somewhere I remember reading or hearing her claim that the original plan was for the crew women to wear pants or a longer skirt, and that skorts were used at her suggestion, but this is hard to track down.
The word is supposed to be derived from the Japanese sukoshi, a noun and adverb meaning `a little bit.' It's natural that the u in the standard transliteration does not appear in the English spelling of the loan. The u following s in Japanese, while regarded phonemically as equivalent to the u's transcribed elsewhere, is more centered (i.e., it is articulated further back than ordinary /u/, a front vowel) and seems more indistinct. Moreover, a u between any two unvoiced consonants is normally indistinct, so a u following s and preceding an unvoiced consonant often seems to disappear. Add to this the fact that syllables in Japanese are pronounced more rapidly than in English (even more rapidly than in French), and it would be surprising if the u survived the language crossing. In some accents I've heard, the i in final shi also tends to disappear.
This feature of Japanese pronunciation helps to keep loans from English to Japanese somewhat recognizable. Japanese doesn't have a lot of consonant clusters. Formally, it doesn't have any consonant clusters beginning in s unless you count the geminate ss or the palatalized sha, shu, and sho (which are represented in Japanese kana as shi + ya, shi + yu, and shi + yo). However, clusters like sk, st, and sp are reproduced fairly accurately with katakana spellings equivalent to suk, sut, sup, etc.
The word sukoshi occurs in the following common phrase: Sukoshi tsumete-kudasaimasen-ka? A good ``functional translation'' of this is `Would you please move over a little?' The second-person pronoun could be made explicit but is usually just understood (i.e., Japanese is a pro-drop language). The courtesy (`please' in English) is in the verb suffix, and the phrase is marked as a question by the particle -ka. (The syntax, which is altered in English to distinguish a declaration from a question, is the same here as it would be for a declarative sentence.) The interesting thing about this request is the base verb, which does not mean `move,' exactly. The verb tsumeru means `to pack.' The request is literally that the person or persons addressed `pack [together] a little [more closely].' The context that makes this phrase common is the subway. More common than the phrase is a nonverbal indication that one wants to sit down. It is not considered rude to make a sweeping motion of one's hand to indicate what one wishes done.
Actually, that's the loose definition. The strict meaning of skwarka has to do with the preparation of schmaltz (German and Yiddish word for cooked fat). During cooking, some insoluble parts (incl. skin) settle out (they form what are called grumos in Spanish) and burn. These tasty arteriosclerosizing (it must be a word -- I wrote it without spaces) bits are skwarka in the strictest technical sense of the word.
The state's area is 2,570 sq. km. Its population was 1,056,000 by the census of 1987, estimated at 1,083,000 for 1997.
The famous director was Sergio Leone.
Many years ago, my father and his boss were in the back of a taxi, down 'Bama way, speakin' Spanish, prolly. The driver commented, ``Ah shaw woo lack t'speeknothah langage lack yoo doo.'' My father had to translate for his boss, who could speak and understand English. The boss said [in translation] ``tell him to start with English.''
In 1988 or thereabouts, I told this story to a native Louisianan who was working out of Washington, DC (you know -- the city with Northern charm and Southern efficiency). He complained that I had flubbed the accent: I was using Harlem (NY) accent instead of any Southern accent. Shee! Demd egg-spits.
There's a very slightly relevant story, which I can't vouch for personally and haven't been able to trace back to a good source, that got a lot of newsgroup circulation starting in late October of 1994. It went that the bluesman K.J. James was asked to ``play some Clapton'' and replied ``Well, son... I'm an old black man, and you're asking me to try to sound like a young white man trying to sound like an old black man... and that's just too much pretending for me.'' These things are relative, as they say. Clapton was 49 at the time. While his age was still increasing at a rate of 7 days a week, I had some difficulty determining the age of Kelly ``KJ'' James. He went right on touring college campuses into 2011, but died on January 5, 2012, aged 76, so less than a decade separated him from Clapton.
I nearly died on January 4, 1984. A couple of weeks later, still scarred up but out of the hospital, I was driving back to school to finish my dissertation when Eric Burdon and the Animals' ``For Your Love'' came on the radio. That was when the thought first occurred to me: ``I'm glad I lived.''
Gee, I hope ``homemaker'' is still the right word. It used to be ``housewife,'' but that was considered sexist. So now homemaker means `housewife,' and househusband means `male homemaker.' Last I heard, anyway. To use the wrong word would be such a crime.
See A. Rosenfeld, Picture Languages (New York: Academic Pr., 1979).
Nine times more prevalent among women than men.
I think the book was self-published. (The publisher is listed on the 1965 paperback as Constructive Action, Inc.; P.O. Box 4006; Whittier, California 90607.) I think you might find it quite difficult to obtain a copy today.
This is a citation entry. In other words, I don't expect many people to come here directly because they were surfing the web for information about Bill Richardson's book that they remembered from way back. It's here so I don't have to repeat the reference information at the two or three places where I quote from the book. As it happens, however, so far I only cite the book from the cybernetic warfare entry. In the future, the book will also be cited in the John Dewey entry. Since that entry isn't ready and I've got the book handy now, let me just quote the Dewey material here. The dedication of Richardson's book reads as follows:
If you think this book is going to be a literary masterpiece, then forget it. I am a product of the progressive, permissive, regressive school of education (degenerate Deweyism), which has permeated the American scene for the past thirty years. My spelling is atrocious and my handwriting is a scribble, and if it weren't for the patience and fortitude of my volunteer secretaries and my captive wife, who for some unaccountable reason either escaped or rose above scholastic pablum, this book wouldn't be here today.
(An entry for John Dewey now exists.)
Slip sticks are available from the Sphere Research Slide Rule Site, The Slide Rule Universe! They even have new (i.e. never-used, unpre-owned, so to speak) boxed slide rules.
If you can tear yourself away from the keyboard, you might have a look at a wonderful short History of the Logarithmic Slide Rule, by F. Cajori (bound in a reprint edition with W. W. Rouse Ball's String Figures).
I've got my clipboard, my text books Lead me to exam room Yeah, I'm off to the civil war I've got my pencil, my staple gun I'm runnin' in the rain Gonna run 'til my feet are raw! Slip stick, slip stick, do multiplication Using only rows C and D. Slip stick, slip stick, squared calculation: It's so easy, use A and B. So easy -- use A and B. It's a hard, hard knurl! I left my pocket protector Bungalow behind me I left the door ajar. I got my vacuum tube; Full of hot tea and sugar. Left the keys right in my car. Slip stick, slip stick, do multiplication Only half way -- about three. Slip stick, slip stick, a trig. relation; I have got to use S and T, Have got to use S and T.
More emblematic than a pocket protector,
More democratic than a mechanical pencil,
More tactile than the card catalog,
More personal than unfashionable clothes,
More magical than a fire cow,
More sublime than all.
Eeek! Vespa still sells motorcycles! It's that same old spooky feeling I got when I discovered that the Women's Christian Temperance Movement is still in business.
They could have chosen a different name, like SLOB Transit. That would have evoked quick-and-dirty, as opposed to SLOw.
Cf. Heidelberg United Soccer Club.
In order to get published, you want to avoid having your manuscript fly directly over the transom and into the slush pile. In order to avoid having your precious manuscript land in the slush pile, you need to have an agent. But in order to have an agent, you need to get published. Therefore, it's no fair! Obviously, no one is ever published unless they've been published before. Hence, there is no moment in the past when they were not published, or they couldn't have gotten an agent and been published in the first place. Thus, every author was always a published author. What we have here is clearly a being/becoming distinction, a heck of an ontological problem, and a lot of empty chairs at the PEN convention. Fortunately, there is something called the ``First (independent) Clause Argument'' that straightens all this stuff out, and incidentally proves that God (the First Author) really wrote the Bible, because the big publishing houses said it would never sell and Moses couldn't have afforded the fees that a vanity press would have charged.
But slush in general is not what I want to talk about here. I want to talk about The Educators' Phrase Book: A Complete Reference Guide, by someone who is far better off anonymous than she knows. The book was published by International Scholars Publications in 1998, when that was based in San Francisco, London, and especially Bethesda, but as of 2005 its domain name is for sale. If that doesn't tell you something, here's another bad sign: the dedication is missing a comma but includes an exclamation mark. Here's the last paragraph of the introduction, to explain what the book is all about.
At last! Here is a helpful phrase book to assist teachers and educators as they tackle those spur of the moment reports they are writing late at night when their ideas are running low. Many times a short phrase can help an educator get his or her creative process rolling to complete the report before the rushed deadline. This book with over 1,000 educational phrases can assist educators for years in writing both formal and informal papers.
Chapter One is about curriculum phrases. I'm sorry, it is Curriculum Phrases. Here are the first three lines of the chapter:
an effective curriculum matches curriculum frameworks are helpful for teachers curriculum development is essential
The chapter concludes thus:
it took hours to develop the curriculum project
Here are two random good ones from ``Chapter Two Behavioral Phrases'':
the student's behavior was revengeful the students hall behavior was orderly
The only thing it's missing (besides left margins, punctuation, organization, acquaintance with the English language, and a clue) is page numbers along the right-hand side, and it could be the index to something magnificently tedious. I'm afraid to go to sleep. I know I'll have nightmares about zombies who find this book useful. (In the other hand: an abridged dictionary!) I'll sell the concept and it will be turned into a major motion picture: ``Late Evening of the Nondead Educators and, Teachers.'' Tagline: ``He or she will kill you by the method of unasked for suffocation.'' Tony Randall will return from the dead to costar with Brad Pitt (a stunt double will play the scenes where the Pitt character has to express living human emotions).
How do they come up with these abbreviations?
Many gentlemen and ladies who advertise in the personals express an interest in ``S&M.'' This is evidence for the widespread latent interest in Science and Technology, and the importance that ordinary citizens place on this shared interest when choosing a partner for life. Or even for a night. Sure! Cf. B&D, S/M.
[Caution: Do not syncopate. Read as ``Ding-Ding-Ding-Ding-Ding-Ding-Ding.'' The Stammtisch is not responsible for pelvic injury resulting from improper use of this glossary!]
Right here, right now, for your viewing pleasure, et cetera, we present, for the first time ever on the internet of this planet, a scientific discovery announced electronically before publication. (Previous announcements don't count because some were false and others would adversely affect our claim of priority.)
The discovery is simply and stunningly this:
That's right, it goes flat when warmed.
In the 108th Congress (2003-2005), 62 of the 435 representatives were women, as was one of the nonvoting delegates. Two of the representatives, and the delegate from the US Virgin Islands, are alumnae of SMC. The USVI delegate (Donna Christensen) was the first female physician to serve in the US Congress, a fortiori the first black woman physician in Congress, and the first woman to represent an offshore territory. Eddie Bernice Johnson became the first woman and the first black to ever represent the Dallas area in Congress when she was first elected to Congress in 1992. SMC typically graduates about 400 students each year.
There were also four Notre Dame alumni in Congress. ND typically awards about 2500 bachelor's degrees each year, but at least a couple of these four men were graduates of the law school.
Southwestern Michigan is a community college with campuses in Dowagiac and Niles. I've heard ``Dowagiac'' pronounced on the weather reports. It sounds like ``duh-WAH-jack.'' Niles is closer anyway. (That's ``if you're within the sound of my voice,'' of course. Hello? HELLO!!?)
The company does business in Iceland under its original name of Smekkleysa, but at some point it changed its official name to English: `Bad Taste, Ltd.' or `Bad Taste SM, Ltd.' (I only have obvious guesses as to what the SM stands for.) `Bad taste' is a fair translation of smekkleysa, which is more literally translated as `tastelessness.'
Let's have some pointlessly gory detail. Icelandic smakk- and smekk- roots are cognate with the English word smack (as in ``to smack one's lips''). Smakka means `to taste' (like the German verb smecken; more about that at SMEX) and smekkr is a noun meaning `taste' (like the German Geschmack). In fact, there are no early attestations for either word, and the Oxford Icelandic-English dictionary says for smekkr that it's ``from Germ. ge-smack'' and implies that it was borrowed from some version of Middle German. On the other hand, the entries (in the 1956 edn. which is the latest I have to hand) haven't been modified since the original 1874 edition; maybe someone has thought more deeply about this since.
The -less ending of English (-los of German) apparently corresponds to -laus in Icelandic (hence smekklaus, `tasteless'). It seems that -lessness corresponds to -leys[V] with [V] some vowel (a or i, at least); if this has a West Germanic cognate or parallel, I don't recognize it.
Smekkleysa also uses the name ``Bad Taste Records.'' (The homepage of the website, linked at the top of this entry, has ``Bad Taste Records -- Online Store'' as the content of its <title> tag.) This usage is a head-on namespace collision with a Swedish record label (namely, Bad Taste Records). This is reminiscent of the Samuel Butler situation in English literature. The poet (1612-1680) and the novelist (1835-1902) are now distinguished by the titles of famous works: Samuel (``Hudibras'') Butler and Samuel (``Erewhon'') Butler, resp. Perhaps the Reykjavik-based label could be distinguished as Bad Taste Records (``The Sugarcubes'') for the group that is responsible for the label's existence. The Bad Taste Records based in Lund, Sweden, is not so closely associated with any single group.
We'll have more about The Sugarcubes later, eventually, maybe. A work more in line with ``bad taste'' is a children's song whose title means `the farting people' in English, published by this label in a 1997 album. Bad Taste Ltd. uses as its symbol a pig listening to a trumpet or two. The reputed origin of the name, however, is a little more elevated: it's a reference to a reputed quote of Pablo Picasso: ``Good taste and frugality are the enemies of creativity.'' I haven't found any specific source for this or any similar quote. More frequently attributed is ``Ah, good taste--What a dreadful thing! Taste is the enemy of creativeness.'' Common in Spanish:
Oh, here's something from their informative mission statement:
``The SMERF promotes the highest quality education and research within the field of sleep medicine...''
This is good to know. I thought maybe they promoted mediocre and plain bad education and research outside the field of sleep medicine, and that they put ``sleep medicine'' in their name only so it would rhyme with smurf. In fact, they don't say that they don't promote lower-quality work. Maybe ``highest-quality education and research'' is only the tip of the iceberg. Maybe they sell novelties as a sideline to support the research.
``This is accomplished through consultation with representatives of the AASM, industry, and the public. The SMERF integrates their recommendations to develop initiatives for the advancement of the field.''
[Yawn.] I think it's working. Another couple of mission statements ought to do it.
SMERSH was a Soviet Army counter-espionage organization begun on April 19, 1943, and reorganized out of existence during Spring 1946. The name was popularized in English by the novels of Ian Fleming, but in most of the James Bond movies it is replaced by an independent criminal organization called S.P.E.C.T.R.E., q.v. For other, mostly fictional bad guys' organizations, see the bad guys' organizations entry.
In German, the word schmeckt means `tastes.' It primarily has the senses that occur in `tastes sweet, tastes good to me' -- schmeckt süß, schmeckt mir gut. (The latter can be shortened to schmeckt mir, but leaving out even the indirect object is probably too ambiguous. My mom can't remember, and I can't google, a straightforward case of someone saying ``Es schmeckt'' to mean ``Es schmeckt gut.'') Anyway, setting aside the idiomatic elisions, schmecken is mainly an intransitive verb meaning `have a taste that is' and typically takes an adjective predicate [or an adjectival predicate, as in schmeckt wie ... (`tastes like ...')]. The narrow usage compared to English taste seems more natural when one realizes that the word is cognate with English smacks. Think ``smacks of'' (schmeckt nach) rather than ``smack one's lips'' (corresponding to the German dialectal verb schmacken).
The transitive verb taste is typically translated by kosten (yes, this also means `cost'), probieren (yes, this also has other senses), or (much less commonly) abschmecken. According to dictionaries, one can even use schmecken transitively, but this seems to be quite rare. (Googling on specific inflected forms which one would most expect to be used in this sense -- first- and second-person singular smecke, schmeckst -- one gets a lot of hits that are borderline creepy.) Anyway, in the transitive dictionary sense it seems to be more like `try, sample.' Yuck. One can also use herausschmecken more precisely for `sense, perceive [a flavor],' particularly when the flavor is unexpected or is partly masked by stronger ones. (I.e., it has some of the sense of tease out in English.)
You know, those two paragraphs aren't a scrap of misplaced text. ``SMEX'' just happened to remind me of ``schmeckt,'' by its approximate similarity in sound. Of course, the similarity would be closer if schmeckt were schmecks. It's funny: when there's a difference, you expect (unvoiced, and therefore noninitial) s in German to correspond to t in English, and not the other way around: besser, daß, heiß, heißen, lassen, vergessen, was, Wasser, weiss are (or have been) `better, that, hot, hight, let, forget, what, water, white.'
Yet the characteristic third-person singular (pres. indic.) ending is t in German and s in English (hence schmeckt vs. smacks). I suppose the reason is that the ending used to be th, which mostly stayed th in English and evolved (depending on voicing) into d and t in German. I think I read somewhere that Shakespeare used the -th (he doth bestride) and -s (all that glisters) about equally. The -s was originally a Northern-English regional variant (a reverse lisp!) that spread south. I probably ought to research this more carefully, but since you came here to learn about SMEX, you probably wouldn't appreciate the effort.
You know how eff and ess sound virtually indistinguishable over the phone?
See A. Rosenfeld, Picture Languages (New York: Academic Pr., 1979).
Only SBF, however, offers you a small initiation into Advanced Smileys.
In May 2002, an apparent intellectual and moral imbecile named Lucas Helder drove around the US placing pipe bombs in streetside mailboxes. After his arrest in Nevada, he told police he had planned to distribute the pipe bombs so as to make a smiley face on a map of the US. In video showing him being taken between jail and court in Reno, his face was all smiley. He faces charges in Iowa that carry a maximum penalty of life in prison.
The nonlinear plot is equivalent to an ordinary plot of the complex quantity
We have a dinosaurs entry too.
Mary says that if you're illiterate, the Indiana State DMV will assign someone to read you the questions so can take the ``written'' part of the driving test. I don't know how she found this out. Was it written somewhere? What provisions do they make to assist those who are blind and deaf to take the test?
Chester Arthur Burnett wrote a song he called ``Smokestack Lightning.'' As appropriate for an artist with the stage name of Howlin' Wolf, the song has a lot of howling. In this song, some of the howling is a pun: ``whoo hoo, whoo hoo'' might be the crying of a child or the whistle of a train. Howlin' Wolf recorded the song in 1956 (it was pressed with the title written as three words). If you're like me, the version you remember best is the Yardbirds' (their second cover of it, with mostly new lyrics). The song was also covered by (in no particular order) Manfred Mann, The Animals, the Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, Muddy Waters, Jimmy Rogers, John Hammond, The Electric Prunes, Lynyrd Skynyrd, the Grateful Dead, The Who, The Wailers, George Thorogood and the Destroyers, Soundgarden, and many less famous others. Okay, some probably not less famous than John Hammond. The Cult had a hit with ``Fire Woman,'' and ``smokestack lightning'' is prominent in the chorus of that song. (They might have been more successful if they'd had the sense to make the song's hook its title. I imagine that if you go to school in Nashville, you learn this in second grade.)
You say you never saw smokestack lightning? Hmmm, by 1956 I imagine even Howlin' Wolf was writing from memory. His years were from June 10, 1910 (I must have missed the retrospective), to January 10, 1976, so he witnessed the end of the steam age.
Eventually, I want to find connections to link up all the entries in this glossary, in a Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon-type thing. It doesn't always work through the most obvious connection. For example, though I suppose Burnett was named after Chester Alan Arthur, the 21st US president, I can't think of any really good tie-in there. Sorry. I guess Chester Arthur witnessed the rise and heyday of the steam age. Pending a future Wolfman Jack entry, I'll note that the inspiration for that famous disc jockey came from Howlin' Wolf. Wolfman Jack's legal name was Robert Weston Smith. With a little sympathetic misspelling, that links us to the Smith and Wesson Oil entry.
In principle, I suppose this could also become a faux ami, but I don't think ``No Smoking'' signs cause any genuine confusion. What can cause confusion is the original English term, which has two meanings that are now essentially inconsistent: (1) a jacket for formal evening wear in public, (2) an elegant but comfortable jacket for home wear. If you conjure in your mind a well-to-do men's smoking club of the Victorian era, with an ostensibly relaxed atmosphere, then the double image begins to converge.
Everything is easy for the man who doesn't have to do it himself.
From the ``About
Modern Psychoanalysis'' page: Modern psychoanalysis ``rests upon the
theoretical framework and clinical approach of Sigmund Freud, who defined
clinical psychoanalysis as any line of investigation that takes transference
and resistance as the starting point of its work. As psychoanalytic practice
and theory developed, psychoanalysts began to doubt the applicability of
classical psychoanalytic technique to the treatment of narcissistic disorders.
Interpretation, the mainstay of classical technique, proved ineffective in the
treatment of severe pathologies.
In the mid forties, Hyman Spotnitz--working as supervisor with a group of mental health professionals at the Jewish Board of Guardians--developed a systematic theory of technique designed for the treatment of preverbal conditions. The body of theoretical and clinical knowledge developed by Spotnitz and his colleagues, known as `Modern Psychoanalysis,' amplified Freud's theories so as to make them applicable to the full spectrum of emotional disorders.
Spotnitz determined that the core problem in narcissism is self-hate rather than self-love, as previously thought.'' Huh! I bet that selfishness will turn out to be a manifestation of excess altruism, too. Spotnitz ``recognized the preponderance of destructive aggression in narcissistic disorders and used it dynamically in formulating his theory of the technique, thus also confirming the operational viability of Freud's theory of dual drives. Spotnitz further recognized that transference phenomena include experiences from conception through the first two years of life, in addition to those from the oedipal [sic] period.''
Its area is 18,413 sq. km. I admit this is not a very interesting fact, but it's a datum that doesn't change as fast as the population, so there's less updating for me to do. Just for historical interest, the population of Saxony was estimated at 4,538,000 for 1997. The capital of the state, through various forms of government, has been and continues to be Dresden.
The names Saxony and Sachsen (and Anglo-Saxon, for that matter) come from the German people called Saxons, whose name is supposed to be derived from the Old German sahsa, `dagger,' the weapon they favored in battle. (In contrast with Germanni, I guess, who favored the gari, `spear.') The Finnish name for German is Saksa, from Saxon.
In Latin, German was Germanus. It was a pun on germanus, which meant `sibling.' (The word apparently evolved from germen, `seed, germ.') Just like English, Latin has distinct words for sibling, brother (frater, a cognate) and sister (soror). I guess a co-ed frat should be a germanity. In fact, there was a Latin word germanitas, which we would render as ``germanity,'' and which had a meaning like that. Germanitas was synonymous with fraternitas, and these words had the sense of our word fraternity in the abstract rather than the ``Greek'' sense.
Like English and Latin, German also has a distinct word for sibling (Geschwister) in addition to Bruder and Schwester. The situation in Latin is not quite parallel to that in these Germanic languages, however. Latin nouns have grammatical gender, as German does. However, gender in Latin typically (as in this instance) is systematically related to (and frequently identifiable from) an interchangeable morphology of suffixes. The history of grammatical gender, or more generally noun classes, is quite involved. Old High German (the highland German that became modern German) and Old English (Anglo-uh, Saxon, evolved from lowland or ``Low German'' languages) had more extensive gender, with inflections marking the nouns as well as their modifiers. None of that is left in English, and very little in German. In Latin, however, the system was sufficiently visible in the morphology that it was easy to preserve a distinction between natural gender (like, male in the case of brother, understand?) and grammatical gender (the ship, she is ready for Mr. sea). Now the Romans weren't silly about this, and with a few traditional exceptions, nouns with a natural gender had the same grammatical gender. Frater, for example, was male. Siblings, on the other hand, come in at least two flavors. As it happens, the Latin sibling word is grammatically male. (The corresponding German word Geschwister is female.)
But there's more. When a word functions as an adjective, it must assume a gender consistent with that of the noun. It must ``agree'' with the noun. (From the linguistic point of view, it is the requirement of agreement that defines noun classes in the usual sense.) In a word like germanus (or Germanus), the male and female forms are distinguished. Thus, the male adjective form (identical with the noun) occurs in one Latin translation of brotherly love: germanus amor because amor is male. (I'm not going to try to make the argument that this is an instance of of natural gender, but it can be related to the fact that the personification of Eros or Amor is male.) On the other hand, a female noun like caritas (`expensiveness'; it evolved to have the usual sense of `dearness') demands a female form: germana caritas for `brotherly high price' or something. Caritas is the origin of our word charity (Middle English charite, from the Old French word used in the sense of `Christian love'; charity is caridad in Spanish). And they say that money is the root of all evil. They should be poor and they'll know better. Another female example is malignitas, so germana malignitas would be `brotherly spite' or `brotherly stinginess.' Gee, those Romans took a very practical approach to affections. (I mean ``practical'' here in the subcontinent sense, as explained at the efectivo entry.) I'm not going to go on like this endlessly. I'm not even going to inflict so much as a pocket dictionary of nouns, but I will mention that there's a neuter form (e.g., germanum odium -- more `brotherly spite,' just to be fair and balanced).
I know, I know: you're sorry you asked. But take heart -- the end of the entry is scrolling into view! The point of introducing the differently gendered (in a non-modern sense) forms of germanus was to show that there was of necessity a female form germana parallel to it. So the Romans put that to good use as a substantive (i.e what we call noun, q.v.) as well as an adjective. But they already had a word for sister. Instead, germana came to mean `own sister,' and then, of course, germanus had to mean `own brother,' and germanum `own palm-pilot.'
That's the order in which it happened. I know because I was there at the time. You can find most of the meanings in a dictionary, or even a glossary. Then again there's disagreement. Etymology, shmetymology. It turns out that the affective sense of caritas (and its etymon carus) may well have been the principal sense before the pecuniary sense. The word has an identifiable root in Proto-Indo-European: *ka (earlier *ke). That's supposed to have meant `love.' Sounds a bit curt to me. Not mellifluous enough. Other cognates include (through a circuitous route through Old Norse) the English word whore. Okay, even setting aside phonology, maybe that's not the best example. It still seems to have a, dare I say it, meretricious element. Okay, better example: Sanskrit kama, as in the title of the work Kama Sutra (vide cama). Here kama definitely means `love,' or, er, maybe just `desire.' Hmmm. All I can say is, LOVE STINKS! Love stinks -- yeah, yeah! Come to think of it, I can probably say other things.
The history of germanus is not uncontroversial either. In addition to the meanings given above, the adjective was widely used with the meaning of `genuine.' Most references I've consulted regard that as a transferred sense, although it's not obvious how. Corominas y Pascual takes the position that `genuine' was the original meaning, and that the meaning `brother' arose from expressions like frater germanus. That halps explain the connection between the different senses of germanus, but leaves germen out in the cold.
If this were an entry for germanus, rather than for the Saxony postal code, I would probably at least mention the Spanish word hermano, and Herman, and the Hermits. Hermano and hermana are the Spanish words for `brother' and `sister,' derived from the ablative forms of germanus.
Herman is a Germanic given name (so maybe I should call it a Vorname). Judging from the fact that Herr Mann means `Mr. Man' in modern German, and her man means whatever it means in English, I'd would have to say that Herman (and related names like Hermann in German and Ermanno in Italian) means `He-man.' But I would be wrong. Not that I'd be alone in error. Back in the nineteenth century, the names Herman and Hermann had a spurt of popularity in the US, UK, and Germany. This seems to have had to do with the belief that the name was an alternate form of Armin, called Arminius by Tacitus. Armin (d. 21 CE) led the Cherusci to a tremendous victory against Roman armies at Teutoburgerwald (`German fortress forest'?) in 9 CE, after which Rome pretty much abandoned efforts to establish control east of the Rhine. A Dictionary of First Names (Patrick Hanks and Flavia Hodges, 1990) has somewhat contradictory claims about the Armin-Hermann connection (at the Hermann and Armin entries). I'm going to assert firmly that they're not closely related, because such a vague claim, within the uncertain field of etymology, is virtually impossible to falsify. There is wide agreement, for whatever that might be worth, that Hermann is derived from the Germanic roots hari (`army') and man (`man'). That sort of brings us back to the beginning of the entry. (Remember sahsa?)
Well, as long as I've mentioned Armin, I should mention Arnim (clean your glasses). Lady von Arnim was a good friend of Goethe, and her son was one of the last visitors to his deathbed. I recall this from Eckerman's book (no, I didn't give bibliographical information on the book earlier in this entry; you should simply be familiar with the book; see the SAH entry). Arn occurs in Yiddish as a shortened form of Aaron, and if the plural were formed in Hebrew it would be Arnim. This is most likely just a coincidence, but since I don't know the actual etymology of Arnim, you're stuck. (There's also an English Arn -- like Arnie, short for Arnold -- but I don't know how to stick im in there.) Okay, okay! Enough about Saxony, already!
You might wonder what tin was called in Latin before it was called stannum. Bronze (a copper-tin alloy) was very important in ancient times (and it was not abandoned when the Iron Age succeeded the Bronze Age), so you might think the Romans might have a distinctive name for it (just as the Greeks did: kassiteros). In fact, the Romans called it plumbum candidum (`white lead'). The elemental metal we call lead was plumbum nigrum (`black lead'). (They also used the term plumbago, in the sense of `lead ore,' for a range of similar-appearing minerals. Some of these minerals, like graphite, are not lead ores.)
(Just to make the color-based naming more complicated: the two tin allotropes that are stable around room temperature are gray tin (stable below 13.2°C) and white tin (stable above).
The Late Latin root stannum is used in forming the distinctive ionic names stannous and stannic, which by current IUPAC rules are to be written tin (II) and tin (IV). You can learn more about tin at its entry in WebElements and its entry at Chemicool.
Not all SN reports turn out to be true. In 1987, twenty were reported (SN1987A to SN1987T), but only seventeen were confirmed.
One dictionary defines a snack as ``a slight, hasty repast,'' while another says it is ``a mere bite or morsel of food, as contrasted with a regular meal; a light or incidental repast.'' Possibly, neither of these definitions satisfactorily represents current usage. I have not found ``snack food'' in any dictionary [his prayers are answered], but it is likely that most people would recognize a snack food as being something consumed primarily for pleasure rather than for social or nutritive purposes and not ordinarily used in a regular meal. Some foods are used both as snacks and as meal components, pizza being an obvious example. ...
For further discussion of what is and is not snack food, go to the SFA entry.
The second edition of Matz's book was published in 1984. There was also a Japanese edition. The third edition (from which I quote) was published in 1993 (New York: Van Nostrand Reinhold).
Matz is deliciously opinionated. At pp. 174-5 he lashes out at bagel chips:
Bagels that have been sliced into thin chips, then toasted and flavored, have appeared on the market during the last few years. They have achieved a certain amount of market penetration, though it is hard to see where their appeal lies, as opposed, say, to the thin toast slices that have been around for years. Fresh bagels have no intrinsic flavor superiority, their acceptance relying on the usual ethnic connotation, their peculiar glossy crust, and their firm texture, the last two points not being apparent when they are in the toast form. Probably their novelty is the main selling point driving this market. ...
Fool! The attraction is that it's a diet food: it's priced so dear that you can't afford to overeat. (Also the strength-of-materials aspect of mouthfeel.)
A backronymic expansion I saw in the context of the ongoing Eurozone sovereign-debt crisis was ``Supra National And Fiscal Union.'' It was used in a 13 December 2011 comment in The Telegraph by Boris Johnson to describe the proposed, not-yet-clearly-defined closer fiscal union of EU countries rejected by British PM David Cameron the previous week. (German Chancellor Angela Merkel is saying she likes to call it a ``stability union.'') I suppose the Snafu (in British acronym capitalization style) expansion is Johnson's own.
Back in 1979 or so, I attended a talk by an outside speaker at Princeton University's Psychology Department. The talk had something to do with how a certain kind of ``snafu situation'' (yes, an aap pleonasm) arose frequently. It didn't seem to me that she understood that SNAFU is an acronym, let alone knew its obscene expansion.
Interestingly, this is a poor metaphor because snakes may have more than two eyes. Rattlesnakes and other ``pit vipers'' have two obvious eyes sensitive to light in the optical spectrum. These look to the sides, however, and predator species tend to have eyes directed forward. The rattlesnake does indeed have such forward-pointing eyes, called pit organs. These are easy to miss: they look through tiny slits. They are sensitive in the infrared, and so can detect the snake's prey at night through the animals' body heat. Ugh. It's disgusting. Anyway, even snakes without an extra pair of eyes are reptiles, and so have a cranial opening that is called the ``reptilian third eye.'' As it happens, however, house also wins on trey.
Some snakes' pit organs can detect temperature differences as small as 0.01 degree.
Judith Viorst's It's Hard to Be Hip Over Thirty And Other Tragedies of Married Life (1968) is a book of ``blank verse,'' which means that it's bad prose with a ragged right margin. One of the sublime unheralded breakthroughs of hypertext is that it makes bad prose easier to set than blank verse. Here's the second paragraph of the poem ``In Deauville'':
Everyone but us
Is playing chemin de fer
The way my mother plays in the Tuesday gin club,
And buying horses
The way my father buys a good cigar
And telling the waiter the champagne smells of cork
With the assurance of those
Who have never saved trading stamps
Or attended a swim club cook-out.
In February 1960, four black students went to a Woolworth lunch counter in Greensboro, North Carolina. Their action is often described as a sit-in, but all they did was sit at the counter and wait to be served. It wasn't their fault if that took a very long time. Around the country, other students tried this experiment. Afterwards, things, including the SNCC, became more complicated. There doesn't seem to be a <http://www.sncc.org/>.
From April 21 to July 21 of 2002, at least:
Sorry for the inconvenience.''
But plain text is so difficult!
Back in the day, we wore sneakers that had simple cloth uppers and some thin foam on a flat base (no arch support). They breathed very well, especially after they began to fray. They came in two styles: high-top and not high-top. When they wore out, it wasn't because the batteries died or the air valve started to leak. And they were cheap.
Modern and post-modern sneakers are available high-tech and high-fashion. These shoes are way over my head (which is not where I expected them to be, now that power and phone lines run mostly under ground). When a new model is released, it's an event. Visit this informative site for up-to-date release event and availability information. The site uses expert technical language like ``grey cement colorway'' that will just knock your socks off.
One nonexpert thought on arch support, however: if you're 5'9" and weigh 350 pounds, you're probably not using the modern-day descendant of the once-humble sneaker as a ``running shoe'' or as any other species of ``athletic shoe.'' At best it's just a well-intentioned, much-put-upon loafer, supporting your sorry flat foot. The shoe that would provide better arch support for you is the shoe beneath the you that has lost weight (and misplaced it where you won't find it again). If you can't find that shoe, with or without a mirror, then Crusher, just forget it and save your money for that hip replacement operation.
Sneakers are not only available in high fashion for the well-heeled, but also in low fashion for the down-at-the-heels. That would be the velcro version.
Yes, yes, the relevant connections to the Beatles and others will be elucidated as time permits. (By ``others'' I mean rappers; I didn't want to defile the previous sentence by identifying them there.)
You shouldn't laugh -- sneakernet can be quite efficient. Pocket-size USB ``hard drives'' (really flash PROM's, like RFD's, but not resident) are available (as of August 2002) in 512 MB modules (and in halvings of that size down to 16 MB).
``Normal'' vision is defined as the ability to distinguish features subtending one minute of arc at a distance of 20 feet. A word like ``feature'' might be vague in principle, but in practice it is very precisely defined: the eye chart contains rows of successively smaller sans-serif ``Snellen letters.'' The row that must be readable by someone with ``normal vision'' has square letters that (at 20 feet) are five arc-minutes high and wide, with strokes one arc-minute wide (that is, 0.349 inches high, with strokes 0.070 inches wide).
A Snellen acuity of 20/40 is something like half the normal resolution. Typically, someone with 20/40 vision is described as being able to read only at 20 feet what someone with normal vision can read at 40 feet. Operationally, of course, it really means that the person can only distinguish letters at twenty feet if they are twice as large (``features'' that are two arc-minutes wide). The loose conventional statement would equivalent if there were no difference in the ability to focus at 20 feet and at 40 feet. Practically speaking, the difference is slight and the definitions are substantially equivalent. (Changing focus from 20 to 40 feet, or from 20 feet to infinity, requires a lens with a strength of 1/12 or 1/6 diopter, respectively.)
In general, a Snellen acuity of 20/x implies that someone can read letters at 20 feet only if the features subtend an angle equal to 20/x minutes (here ``20/x'' is to be understood simply as a fraction). There is a superscript notation to represent intermediate visual acuity, or partial success: a Snellen acuity of 20/30-2 represents the ability to to read all but 2 of the letters in the 20/30 row of a Snellen eye chart. This is somewhat useful, particularly as there is no row between those for 20/30 and 20/40 vision in the standard chart. (Then again, it wouldn't be so hard to draw another line on the floor or something.)
In the UK and Canada, at least, the 20 feet have been converted to 6 meters (the difference is about the length of a cigarette: 20 ft. = 6.096 m), hence 6/6 for 20/20, 6/9 for 20/30, etc. In the technical literature, I've also seen the term ``Snellen decimal fractions'' and 0.5 for 20/40, etc.
Herman Snellen, who created his popular eye chart in 1854, was a Dutch ophthalmologist who spent his entire career in the Netherlands. I rather suspect that he did not define ``Snellen acuities'' in terms of traditional English feet.
This SNF would be of limited utility in the event this other kind of SNF is used.
Michael Neumann's extensive list of sample short programs in different programming languages includes three simple SNOBOL4 programs.
Another instance of the -el diminutive ending that is well-known in English is the Yiddish (like Middle High German) shtetl (< shtet + -el, cf. Ger. Stadt, noting that initial ``st'' in German has a pronunciation that would be written ``sht'' in English). The normative form form in modern German uses the -chen diminutive ending: Städtchen. (The the stem-changed vowel ä is close in sound to the e in shtetl, but Yiddish and German vowels seem to coincide largely by coincidence.)
There are whole retirement villages in Venezuela, founded by North Dakotans who raced through west Texas and didn't understand Spanish.
One Stammtisch member who has not risked living in Venezuela remembers the cover of a Saturday Evening Post, from around 1939 -- before he discovered the New Yorker -- which showed a model T being heaved out of the snow and off the road by a monster snow plow. There's more information on the model T at the Barbie Doll entry.
Doubtless the proficiency of SNS students varies greatly (see this other SNS entry), but I think these programs could be very useful. They didn't exist at my junior high school 30+ years ago. I took 9th-grade (i.e., third year) Spanish when I was in I was in 8th grade, against the resistance of the school administration. (They thought I would be unprepared, as I had had no previous formal Spanish instruction since kindergarten in Argentina.) The course was a poor fit. I did learn a few new words, and I gained the ability to name some of the grammatical categories I had always used naturally, but my time could have been better spent.
In the class as we were originally arranged, ``Elena'' sat behind me. On one early test, she got a grade of F with the notation ``you haven't learned this yet.'' The seating was rearranged.
Maybe what you heard was ``FNSM''
National Semiconductor illustrates. Their illustration of a TSSOP is at right.
Assaf Ganzman met Daniel Kriman at ``Mike's Place'' in Jerusalem. Assaf and his brother Gil bought it from founder Mike Vigoda in 1995. In 2000 they opened a Tel Aviv ``Mike's Place'' on Herbert Samuel street, on a walkway along the Tel Aviv beach. It's in the Russian Compound in the city, and close to the US Embassy. It's the main club for the city's small Blues scene. Mike's Place and Strudel are the two bars in the city that cater to a mostly English-speaking clientele. Teens and kids in their twenties. (To me that's ``kids,'' okay? Don't gimme this YA-YA BuSiness.)
About 1 AM on April 30, 2003, with the club in Tel Aviv full of kids dancing to the live music, a couple of British citizens were denied entry. Only one of them was able to set off his bomb belt. The other ran off and was later found drowned in the Mediterranean. One waitress and two musicians were killed, dozens were injured.
The earliest solid-state electronic calculators each used several thousand transistors and diodes. The first LSI-based calculator was made around 1970 by a joint Rockwell-Sharp project and used four LSI chips. Nowadays pocket calculators use a single chip for all calculation and display signal generation.
The corresponding German word sogenannte, and similar words in some other languages, lack this connotation. Speakers of one of these languages, who seek a similar construction in English that is `unmarked' (i.e., has `no' connotation) might use ``so named'' or ``so called'' in postposition, but only in restricted situations:
``Some papers were designated as `invited'; the articles so named were published in volume 1.''
Oh no! In 2003, a new target group called ``NASCAR Dads'' was discovered. According to CNN (July 9), they are white, working-class men inclined to support Republicans but capable of backing a Democrat if they agree on the issues. Senator Bob Graham of Florida, then running for the 2004 Democratic presidential nomination, was targeting them by sponsoring the ``NASCAR Craftsman Truck'' (an F-150; if you don't know that that's a Ford pick-up, you probably ain't saved neither). Small problem: NASCAR fans have very low election participation (never mind Democratic primaries). No one who reads will be offended if I say ``duh.'' CNN again: ``Bruce Oppenheimer, a Vanderbilt University political science professor, said Graham will see more of a benefit from the publicity surrounding his deal than from fans who watched the race live or on television.'' Either way, he didn't survive the Iowa caucuses.
On NPR earlier in July 2003, I heard a report about Mexican congressional candidates campaigning among expats (let's not look too carefully at those documents ¿okey señor?) living in Southern California. Mexico does not allow absentee voting, and the candidates don't expect these Mexican citizens to return home to vote. The theory seems to be that the nonvoters glad-handed in Upper California will button-hole their relatives back home by phone.
In Steinbeck, the phrase ``sock it to 'em'' was used by the used-car dealer to mean both ``apply ultimate sales pressure'' and ``screw them.'' In context, there was no occasion to disambiguate. When Aretha Franklin covered Otis Redding's ``Respect'' in her hit 1967 album I Never Loved A Man The Way I Loved You,'' the repeated ``sock-it-to-me'' lyrics she added were also unambiguous -- they were understood as a sexual reference.
The reason for the interest in these phrases in 1968 was a then-current TV humor show that was popularizing the phrase ``Sock it to me.'' The show, ``Rowan and Martin's Laugh-In'' was an unhip, insipid and wildly popular thing that provided a transition from nothing, or maybe from some stand-up comedy on Ed Sullivan, to the vastly superior early ``Saturday Night Live.'' In addition to sock-it-to-me, they introduced such putative witticisms as ``You bet your bippy,'' ``Here come da judge'' and ``Verrrry interesstink!'' If you grimaced wanly and listened to the studio laughter, you might convince yourself that you were enjoying humor. It was a kind of suburban Hee-Haw, minus the sophistication and fine music. Still, it launched Goldie Hawn (who played a giggly airhead) and Lily Tomlin (as switchboard tsarina Ernestine). Also, they got Pres. Dick Nixon to come on and say
It can be proven by calculus that this was a far greater step out of character for him [ftnt. 5] than any sax playing on Arsenio could ever be for presidential candidate Bill Clinton.
``Sock it to ME?''
At the end of the show, co-host Dan Rowan would say to co-host Dick Martin
Say ``Good Night,'' Dick.
and Dick would say
Good Night, Dick.
This was a shameless rip-off of the George Burns and Gracie Allen Show of radio and early television, which used the sign-off
Say ``good-night'' Gracie. / Good-night, Gracie.
Just to be clear, however, Laugh-In was not a rip-off of Hee-Haw. Hee-Haw was inspired by Laugh-In. It was also inspired by the Smothers Brothers. The form that the inspiration took was that Tom and Dick complained to CBS management about the censoring of political jabs on their show, and CBS ended the piecemeal censorship by cancelling the show. CBS replaced it with Hee-Haw, a hay-seed copy of Laugh-In with no memorable contributions to the language, no intelligence, no relevance, and pun jokes told in black-out format, but more skin.
The definition text of this entry used to read simply:
An expression of fealty to godbert.
The word godbert anchored a link (now dead, as you can confirm) to some sock-puppet pictures sent by Dilbert fans to Scott Adams or to United Feature Syndicate.
(Although the FET idea was first patented in 1935, it was not until the late 1960's that IGFET's became commercially important. Much of the reason is that fab facilities were not initially clean enough to keep the sodium content low.)
In view of their demonstrated toxicity, contact with humans and other carbon-based life forms should be avoided. The other alkali metals are bad guys too, but they're less common.
Definitely see Na entry.
As the next entry shows, washing your hands doesn't necessarily help.
See the hard water entry for a bit more on this detergent.
It's also called sodium laureth sulfate.
That claim evidently excludes ordinary planes with people who look out their windows at the sky. The first noteworthy instance of that occurred in the 1960's, when Gerald Kuiper pointed the business end of a 30 cm telescope out the window of a plane. Today he could never get it past security, and if he could they'd charge him for a second seat. And they'd ask him to remove his ``Belt.''
Between 1974 and 1995, NASA operated a telescope from a military cargo plane.
SOFIA is a joint project of NASA and DLR (the German analogue). The aircraft operates with a ceiling of 45,000 feet (13,700 meters), above most of the atmosphere and its water vapor. Water vapor absorbs IR radiation (except in certain ``IR windows''); flying above it makes it possible to do (full-spectrum) IR astronomy.
You used to be able to buy an office-noises-background soundtrack to sound big when you called. Now you just make a glitzy webpage.
There's a story that mispronunciation of that street's name led to the exposure of a German spy in WWII. I kind of doubt it. (For another story of enemy Germans thwarted by ignorance of locally common knowledge, see the SRP entry.)
In April 2006, the Dublin (Ireland) City Council unveiled plans for a 2.6 billion euro cultural and commercial quarter. The quarter was planned as a rejuvenation of Dublin's historic communities of the Liberties and the Coombe (mostly the former), located in the south inner city. The project was inspired by the revitalization of New York City's SoHo, and was to be called ``SoHo'' also, standing in this case for ``South of Heuston Station.'' The most interesting thing about the whole story, to me, was that in Dublin, somehow ``SoHo'' should be expected to call to mind New York rather than London.
At the time, City manager John Fitzgerald said 2 billion euros of private funds had already been committed, and that the city council would put forward 100 million euros to fund public-private partnerships that would in turn raise a further 500 million euros. That sounds rather heavily leveraged.
Maybe I was right about the London/New York thing. In any case, there was widespread opposition to the name change, and the Dublin City Council eventually came to its senses. By the time they hired John Thompson and Partners (JTP) in 2007 or 2008, it was to ``develop a plan for the regeneration of the Liberties.'' That's fortunate for me, because this is only a SoHo entry, so I don't have to explain how Ireland was forced to seek an EU bailout in November 2010, amid the implosion of its heavily leveraged real estate market. My nameserver can no longer find a server for <www.theliberties.ie>, and a lot of (most? all?) ambitious construction plans have been... put on long-term hold.
Here are some typical specs.
RCA and SOLA share most of their courses, but the RCA curriculum includes some additional explicitly Catholic curricular items like elementary theology and a course in Scholastic philosophy.
The principal consideration is light intensity, and as explained at the RTG entry, the main qualitative fact is that solar cells are the power source of choice from Mars sunward.
Of course, solar cells don't store energy for any longer than a fraction of a second. (The circuits they are part of may function longer due to capacitance in parallel with the cell.) For those awkward times when a solar-cell system is eclipsed (typically by some large body that its satellite is orbiting), it is necessary to have backup. That's usually batteries.
Satellites in geostationary orbit (GEO) make an interesting case. Because of the tilt of the earth's axis of rotation, geostationary satellites do not usually go directly behind the earth. That is, they are not eclipsed by the earth. The exception occurs for a period of a couple of weeks around each equinox. During this ``eclipse season,'' GEO satellites are eclipsed daily for up to seventy minutes.
``External main spring design creates a powerful vacuum stroke.'' Oooo!
``Soft-push cam trigger.'' Strong enough to be gentle!
``Single full stroke plunger and cleaning shaft allow maximum vacuum flow.'' Can such things be?
Now for the gushy stuff:
And a final reminder of all that coiled power:
All this for just $7.75 +P&H and it doesn't even put out your eye.
Here's an item specially suited to solder SMT's and SOIC's.
It's not a good idea to play solitaire for hours on end. Take a break, eat a salty snack.
The odd thing that strikes one immediately is that while the farthing (when still in circulation) was the smallest (or smallest common) denomination in England, the sou when in circulation was worth 12 deniers.
Interestingly, the Spanish-language version of the nVIDIA homepage, alone among the eight non-English versions, leaves ``solutions for'' in the original English. For another Spanish language issue, see the nVIDIA entry. You want to know about software? Screw that! We talk about human languages here.
As you may gather, I consider the use of ``solution'' in the sense of ``marketed service or product'' to be an ugly bit of businesspeak. To give the language criminals their due extenuation, however, I'll observe that in ``Watching the Wheels,'' John Lennon sang
Well I tell them there's no problem, only solutions
Well they shake their heads and they look at me as if I've lost my mind
Maybe not so extenuating after all.
Devising an organization name whose acronym is a modest quantifier was very clever. (``Please, sir, I want SOME more.'') But they should have stayed away from the subjunctive ``might.'' It's too tentative. If they're hungry, then it's enough that they may eat, and they will. I mean, which universe are they speculating about? Or was this the preterite indicative of may? That's so yesterday. (Actually, most of the ordinary modals are fossil preterites. That's why they never take a final ess in the third-person singular.)
Okay, okay, it would be strange, but not inconceivable, right? Say it, dammit!
In the preceding statements, you can usually replace sometimes with usually, sometimes.
My travel agent said, ``remember that, and you'll go far.'' I laughed. A few hours later, as I was writing this entry, I finally got it. A little travel-agent humor.
At the University of Sydney (in NSW), there's a School of Philosophy, Gender, History, and Ancient World Studies. It's interesting to philosophize on the question, which of the words following of were meant to modify ``World Studies'' -- if there was any meaning at all. You wonder, if they decided to concentrate on their core business and spin off some earlier diversification, what would be left and how it would be branded. According to a June 2001 newsletter of the ASCS, ``mail sent to this School's name disappears into a black hole.''
When I was in grad school, I met a woman named Sydney, or maybe even Sidney. I pointed out that she had an unusual name for a girl. She pointed out that she still resented her parents' having given it to her. You know, she was beautiful, and a rose by any other does smell as sweet (though I can't say roses are very fragrant). Incidentally, it wasn't until the nineteenth century that flower names began to be popular as girls' given names in English. (Rose is the single prominent exception, having come into use centuries earlier.) Annette Bening costarred as Sydney Ellen Wade in a 1995 romantic comedy ``The American President,'' in which one of the minor humorous themes concerned the President's attempts to buy her flowers without his job getting in the way.
Every logic function can be expressed in SOP form, just as every logic function can be expressed in POS form. If a certain term appears in many of the products, then it can be more efficient for evaluation to factor out the common term.
Quoting from an email, SOPHA ``was created in 1993 with the project of improving and expanding the practice of analytical philosophy in French. One of its mandates, the organization of a triennial conference, aims at facilitating philosophical contacts and networking among French-speakers and Francophile, all over the world.'' French analytical philosophers are probably thinner on the ground than American continental philosophers (not counting literature departments).
The third conference, ``Language, Thought, Action,'' was held in Montreal in September 2005. The proceedings were published in Philosophia Scientiae and are available online.
A group that's interested in oral reading might have come up with an acronym that was more pronounceable than this initialism, and a group that offers a three-day workshop for $400 (includes shared overnight accommodations, full board, instruction and materials) ought to be able to figure out how to afford its own website. If the link above fourohfours, try this search.
and therefore it does. In origin it is a Morse-code distress call:
o o o --- --- --- o o oThis is supposed to be transmitted without interletter gaps. For more details on this, see the SOS entry in the alt.usage.english FAQ.
Perhaps you would also be interested in learning about the Meanings of International Maritime Flags.
The SOS distress call has caught the imagination of many musicians. The song ``I'll Send an SOS to the World'' contains many triple three-note patterns.
In 1965 or 66, the singer-songwriter Edwin Starr was watching the television show ``Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea'' and became intrigued by the distress signal. He worked it into a song which was originally called ``Sending Out Soul.'' ``I changed it into a love song by calling it `Stop Her on Sight','' said Starr. ``I know that should have been `S.H.O.S.,' but the record company said no one would notice.''
In her The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas (NY: Harcourt, Brace, 1933), Gertrude Stein wrote this about the arrival of the doughboys in '17 (p. 224):
... At any rate the american soldiers came [to Nîmes], a regiment of them of the S.O.S. the service of supply, how well I remember how they used to say it with the emphasis on the of.
We soon got to know them all well and some of them very well. There was Duncan, a southern boy with such a very marked southern accent that when he was well into a story I was lost. Gertrude Stein whose people all come from Baltimore had no difficulty and they used to shout with laughter together, and all I could understand was that they had killed him as if he was a chicken. The people in Nîmes were as much troubled as I was. ...
More of Gertrude Stein's views about American soldiers telling stories can be found at the have-got-to entry.
Purdue University's School of Technology at Richmond (SOT) makes its home on the campus of Indiana University East.
At Illinois State, we have defined SoTL as "systematic reflection on teaching and learning made public." This definition arose from the work of a diverse group of faculty, staff, and students involved in the early Carnegie Academy for the Scholarship of Teaching and Learning (CASTL) Campus Program in 1998. Currently, our primary efforts to support SoTL on campus our [sic] housed with the Cross Chair in the Scholarship of Teaching and Learning.
It's not quite horrifying to think that many of the people involved in defining scholarship as systematic reflection made public think they're engaged in anything but a travesty.
shall from time to time give to the Congress Information of the State of the Union, and recommend to their Consideration such Measures as he shall judge necessary and expedient; he may, on extraordinary Occasions, convene both Houses, or either of them, and in Case of Disagreement between them, with Respect to the Time of Adjournment, he may adjourn them to such Time as he shall think proper; he shall receive Ambassadors and other public Ministers; he shall take Care that the Laws be faithfully executed, and shall Commission all the Officers of the United States.
Eugene A. Nida, in his Toward a Science of Translating, suggested the term ``meaningful mouthful'' for the unit in terms of which one should think of translating. For another glossary entry inspired by Nida's work, see old flame retardant.
To make a silk purse out of a sow's ear is the unrealized dream of modern alchemists. Transmutation (of base metals into gold) has already been achieved by neutron irradiation.
This mix is reminiscent of the situation in US, where black ghettoes like Harlem were home to all social classes. In the US, the situation changed when housing nondiscrimination laws of the 60's gave those better off a chance to move out. This departure has been identified by James Q. Wilson (I think), and others, as a cause of social collapse in the inner city. In the ninties, there has begun to be a return of the black middle class to traditionally black neighborhoods, attracted in part by lower costs of home ownership. That's what the newspaper said, anyway.
The 1955 Freedom Charter, a list of civil rights demands, was ratified by ANC delegates meeting in the Kliptown section of Soweto.
Soweto is famous principally for protests that began in 1976. By exile, incarceration and murder, the NP regime had succeeded in suppressing black resistance to apartheid. In 1976, the government ordered all public schools to teach science and math in Afrikaans, leading to a student protest on June 16, 1976. Police responded with bullets, and over 80 students died. This massacre rekindled rebellion, with rent strikes and other protest continuing until the end of apartheid in 1994.
Some words are unaccountably cool, or have coolness that one cannot completely account for. In principle, it might be the sound of the word. For example, when I started to learn English at age 5, ``garbage can'' was my favorite vocabulary -- it was full of strange new sounds for a Spanish-speaking boy. It might be the oddly-shaped semantic hole it fills. (I can't think of a good example off-hand. Come back later.) Or it might be something else. In general, it probably has something to do with the poetry of the word, because poetry is what is lost in translation.
Anyway, sowieso is one of those words. It's hard to explain why, when you can use it, you want to. Perhaps it has to do with the positioning of adverbs in German sentences. Unlike anyway, the adverb sowieso rarely comes at the beginning of a sentence. (It does occur colloquially as an interjection, but then it's a one-word sentence meaning `of course.') It may have to do with the construction of the word: so in German has a meaning similar to so in English (as well as so in Japanese); wie means (and is cognate with) English how. Both of these function familiarly both as words and in compounds. For example, soundso is basically `so-and-so.' Likewise with wie: As a prefix, irgend- can typically be translated as `some-,' and sure enough irgendwie means `somehow.' This is probably the place to mention that there was a German coming-of-age movie entitled ``Irgenwie und Sowieso.'')
SOWPODS was created in 1991 for the World Scrabble Championships in London and subsequent World Championships. It has slowly been adopted in ``most of the world.'' That is, in most of the places where there is a designated official dictionary. As of 2005, that includes most of the British Commonwealth, with the significant exception of Canada, and a few mostly Arab countries. Since January 2003, all British tournaments have officially used the OSW-I, or Official SCRABBLE® Words, International, which is now equivalent to SOWPODS, although at least some UK clubs use OSPD. As of 2005, North America (i.e., the US and Canada) is the only major region not to adopt SOWPODS for tournament play, unless Israel or Thailand is a major region. (Hmmm... the winner of the 2003 WSC was from Thailand.)
SOWPODS has about 25,000 more words than the OSPD. So far, referenda of NSA members have rejected switching, and tournament play in the US is according to TWL. Since SOWPODS and the WSC were created in 1991, all eight champions have been nationals of countries that used something other than SOWPODS.
Scrabulous serves a look-up tool for the current SOWPODS and TWL. (Similar tools are served on a decaying page with forwarding links to <Scrabulous.com>, but until Scrabulous.com finally offered definitions, it was handy to keep the link. Now it's just here for hisorical reasons. The old page is at <Bingobinge.com>. When you use all seven of your tiles in a single turn in Scrabble, you are said to score or make a bingo. I don't know who says this. Maybe you could say it yourself. You could also say ``hot dang!'' I don't know if either of these is officially approved terminology anywhere, but a bingo is worth an extra fifty points.) Bob Jackman serves a number of SOWPODS word lists.
Founded in 1974 by the American Academy of Religion (AAR and the Society of Biblical Literature (SBL).
A distinct organization, the Scholars Press Consortium, was founded by the AAR, SBL, American Philological Association (APA), and American Society of Papyrologists (ASP) to provide publishing, membership, accounting and information services to the founding associations and about seventeen additional scholarly organizations in the academic fields of religion, biblical studies and classical antiquity.
Both organizations were abruptly dissolved at the end of 1999.
Species is taxonomists' Latin for `species.' In fact, it's anybody's Latin for species. Beyond that, things get complicated. The word species was a fifth-declension noun. If that is completely, but I mean completely, meaningless to you, then you should probably go back to the A.M. entry for a little orientation.
Back? Good. Fifth-declension nouns, like res, dies, and species, have identical singular and plural forms in the nominative case. (You probably thought that the point of declensions was to communicate information such as grammatical number and case (the word's function in a phrase). That is incorrect; the purpose of declensions is to be cool.) You think identical singular and plural forms are strange? There are languages, like Chinese and Japanese, that don't even distinguish grammatical number. Different languages tend to give different kinds of information by default. German, like Latin, usually allows you to distinguish singular from plural, but some nouns have the same form, and the number information is in the article. For example, der Koffer is `the suitcase' and die Koffer is `the suitcases' (both in the nominative).
To be fair, for some uncountable nouns one rarely needs a plural form, and res (`thing') and species (`form, appearance') lean toward the uncountable. (This argument doesn't work so well with dies, which means day. Just for good measure, in the singular dies was sometimes construed feminine rather than its usual masculine. The devil is in the details. The devil revels in the details.) I should at least mention duals. There.
In English, we tend to use the nominative forms of Latin nouns. Since we don't decline nouns by case, we just throw the other forms away. There's a big pile of them accumulating in a county in northern Nevada, where the US government is trying to convince the three people who live there to allow the waste to be buried at a depth of 10,000 stadia. They object: ``what's a stadia?''
Actually, we sometimes save the odd declined form for a phrase. Also, the genitive forms have been found useful for scientific experrrrrrrimentation! Or for science, anyway -- particularly astronomy and biological taxonomy. Fifth-declension nouns normally have genitive singulars ending in -ei, like rei. As you've probably figured out by now, the sentence adverb normally is a red flag of danger. Sure enough, -iei (I wanna say -iei ee! oh!; there, I said it) was too much even for the stoic Romans, and specie and specii were used as genitive forms of species. (Similar stuff happened with dies, and also acies, facies, and pernicies. Eventually things got so confusing that in Rome people switched to Italian.)
You might say that species has a defective declension, and you might be right, but not for that reason. A word is said to be defective when it is missing some of its inflected forms. According to Lewis and Short, in the time of Cicero the genitive and dative plurals of species were not in use, and formarum and formis took their respective places. How do they know? Maybe they just meant formarum instead of specierum! Okay, that's enough, let's do a different entry.
Spurius means `illegitimate'; its 0.7% frequency in CIL vol. I (see the tria nomina entry) likely underestimates the actual frequency of bastards in the subject population, however that was defined, if only because two children of one woman would probably not get the same name.
Full disclosure: for a long time, I thought S.p.A was the Italian version of S.A.
For what it's worth, the part of Will Robinson in the original ``Lost in Space'' was played by Bill Mumy. The surname is pronounced MOO-me.
Texas no longer leads the nation in Fortune 500 companies headquartered there. In fact, the state comes in third, with 51 major companies headquartered in Texas compared with 57 last year. Some of that is the result of mergers, like Fort Worth-based Burlington Northern Santa Fe being acquired by Nebraska-based Berkshire Hathaway spacer, and Houston-based Continental Airlines spacer merging with Illinois-based United.
Emphasis added (for, um, emphasis). Those look to me like strange places to place ``spacer'' -- or spacer either. Cf. KOMING.
Some years ago I met an interesting single woman on the internet who seemed nice, and we progressed to a phone conversation. We decided to get together, but she wanted to know my birthdate and where I was born. She needed these inputs for her astrology software. She was becoming more interesting than I had bargained for. And the program was acting balky. Maybe the fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but PIFOK. Maybe she was misspelling ``Buenos Aires.'' Anyway, the problem seemed to get ironed out, and we set a, ahem, date.
I guess it was fated that one of us would call and call it off. She beat me to it. I guess she got the program working.
Another technical acronym that has (less surprisingly) entered common usage in Britain and been verbed is TUPE.
The company had a brilliant start, introducing a number of innovations (see, for example, the Dep control entry). In early August 1913, however, Armand Deperdussin was arrested for fraud, and the company was soon put into receivership. Deperdussin was never again involved with aviation in any significant way. More information about him (but not much yet) can be found at or linked from the Deperdussin entry.
In August 1914, as France went to war (WWI), a consortium led by the famous aviator Louis Blériot purchased the company assets. The operation of the company was put in the hands of Louis Béchereau, the engineer responsible for the company's plane designs under Deperdussin. Given the scandal of l'affaire Deperdussin, a new name was deemed advisable. Alfred Leblanc, Blériot's right-hand man and a successful plane racer himself, suggested that the company retain the four letters S-P-A-D, at least partly to be justified by the fact that in Volapük, the word means `speed.' An acronym expansion was also adopted, however: Société pour l'Aviation et ses Dérivés. (I've seen both pour and Pour versions; I'm agnostic on the issue.)
A word about Volapük. This was an artificial international language created by Johann Martin Schleyer, a Roman Catholic priest of Baden, Germany. In the 1880's it was immensely successful by the standards of such projects, with at least a couple of hundred clubs, a couple of dozen periodicals, etc. It was overtaken at the end of the nineteenth century by easier languages like Esperanto. Especially Esperanto. (On the other hand, my father taught Esperanto in his youth, yet though I don't own any books in Esperanto, I do own a mathematics book in Latino Sine Flexione, written by the mathematician Peano, who invented the language. At first I thought it was some odd dialect of Italian. It reminds me of Enrico Fermi's experience as a boy, reading a wonderful mechanics book that had been written in the nineteenth century by a Jesuit priest. As he worked his way through it, he would regale his older sister with his discoveries. She did not wish to be so regaled; she was interested in the so-called humanities, and not in science. When he finished the book, he remarked to his sister: ``you know, it's written in Latin. I hadn't noticed.'' This is from memory. I read the story in an early chapter of Atoms in the Family; that's in English, so you won't find it verbatim there either.) Anyway, the root vocabulary of Volapük is taken largely from English, though the roots are almost randomly deformed, apparently with the intention of giving no one an unfair advantage in learning the language. So the word spad is very probably derived from the English word speed.
One thing I did not give above is the original expansion of S.P.A.D. in 1912. I'm not sure what it is. There are a number of contenders, which I list here with the number of ghits on French pages as of Groundhog Day, 2009:
The version with the greatest number of French ghits has the following further thing to be said for it that is not immediately obvious: the company was also producing motor boats at the time, and while appareils is understood as `airplanes' in the appropriate context, in general it means something more general, like `machine' or `device,' and such ambiguity may have been attractive and preferable to something like `Deperdussin Airplanes.'
The version with provisoire has in its favor the fact that it's not very plausible French. That is, it's not an expansion a French-speaker would be likely to come up with accidentally, merely by misremembering a more correct form (as the avions forms might be), so maybe it is the correct form. The provisoire form is the one given by Jay P. Spenser in The Airplane: How Ideas Gave Us Wings, (Smithsonian, Nov. 2008).
More detail regarding the oddity of ``provisoire'': one is tempted to translate Société Provisoire des Aéroplanes Deperdussin as `Deperdussin Airplane Supply [or Manufacturing] Company.' On its face it doesn't make much sense in French, as provisoire has the sense of `provisional, temporary,' and the TLFi gives no indication that it was ever used in the requisite sense. (Likewise Le Grand Robert.) The word is cognate, of course, with English words like provide, provident, and provision. The French word provision has principal senses similar to the English: supply, stock. If provisoire was used in the sense of `that provides,' then it would be something like the use of provident in the same sense in English: strange, but not impossible.
Here's an informative caption from Conquerors of the Air: The Evolution of Aircraft 1903-1945 (New York: Viking Press, 1968), p. 47:
The Spad S 13 came from a firm with a long tradition: S.P.A.D. (Société pour l'Aviation et ses Dérivés). This factory, owned by Armand Deperdussin [actually, there were a number of factories, and a société could not consist of a single investor], held all the absolute speed records in 1912 and 1913. The aircraft, produced between 1914 and 1916, after the take-over of the business by Louis Blériot, were not exceptionally successful. But in the summer of 1916 the picture changed completely, and the Spad S 13 rapidly became one of the Allies' outstanding aircraft. What it lacked in maneuverability it more than made up for in speed. Its maximum of 142 m.p.h. was produced by a 220 h.p. Hispano-Suiza engine. Eddie Rickenbacker, whose 26 victories made him America's most successful pilot in World War I, was one of the best known S 13 aces.
The illustration (pp. 46-47) shows a single-seater biplane with green and brown camo; the rudder has a scalloped trailing edge and various bits of information superimposed on what I would regard as a French tricolor. There's a curious symbol on the middle of the fuselage that looks like Uncle Sam's hat flying through a vertical hoop.
According to the stats accompanying the illustration, in 1917 its engine was a Hispano-Suiza 8BA V-8, and in 1918 a Hispano-Suiza 8BEc V-8. The second engine apparently produced 235 h.p.
(The book was illustrated by Carlo Demand. The text of the German original was by Heiner Emde; the translator is not identified, but he is criticized in a copyright-page erratum: ``The use of `Kaiser' instead of `Emperor' in the title of the section beginning on page 164 is an error of the German translator which the American publishers unaccountably overlooked and for which they apologize.'' It seems that some error was made, but without the original it's not clear what mistake was made by whom. The section in question bears the title ``The Kaiser's new bird of prey: Japan's most famous hunter of World War II.'' The last Kaiser so-called abdicated after Germany's defeat in WWI, and the Third Reich had no ``Kaiser'' or quite equivalent title. FWIW, Führer means `leader.')
In 1903, of course, the US was the world leader in aviation. And the US still had the greatest number of pilots in 1908, when Deperdussin first became interested in aviation. Around 1910, the Wrights apparently felt they had a good enough product and turned more of their attention to other things, including marketing their planes, certifying pilots, and defending their patents. Other countries started catching up in participation and technology. By 1911, when Aéroplanes Deperdussin was founded, France had more pilots than any country in the world. This was accompanied by a parallel surge to world leadership in aviation technology. What happened afterwards? Here's the answer of William Winter, on page 208 of his War Planes of all Nations (New York: Thomas Y. Crowell Company, 1943). The book is divided into eight national sections -- US, UK, Russia, France, Holland, Germany, Italy, and Japan -- and this introduces the French section:
The story of modern French aviation is the tragic story of France herself. The pity of it all is that the French were capable of putting on a much better ``show'' than they did. French designers and fliers have always ranked at the top; their ideas often were brilliant and had tangible effects on the course of aviation. French Spads and Nieuports performed a mighty part in the aerial fighting of World War I.
And even in this war the French did not lack ideas. Many fine prototypes were on hand and ready for production. The people who guided her aviation industry felt the approaching storm long before it struck, but their hands were tied so that the best airplanes were never produced in quantity. Politics and labor troubles hamstrung the French air force, just as they did her entire war effort. Indeed, the labor situation was so bad before the war that the government took control of virtually the entire manufacturing setup. Under Pierre Cot the French plane builders were grouped geographically into what was called the nationalized industry. Unfortunately, results were worse than ever, if such a thing were possible. During the so-called Sitzkrieg her airplane production was only a trickle, a trickle that evaporated in some months.
At the Paris Salon air show in 1938 a line-up of impressive French fighting planes was revealed. Bombers such as her Leo 45 were exquisite aerodynamically. But of perhaps a dozen worth-while new types, only a few got into the manufacturing stage before that fateful June in 1940. France was a pioneer of the low-wing fighter monoplanes. Her then strange bimotored fighter-bombers anticipated a trend that all nations are following today. The Potez 63 and Breguet 690 are examples. Indeed, the French always claimed that the Germans got their inspiration for the Messerschmitt Me-110 from the agile twin-engined Potez 63. Of course, the French machines mentioned would not be in the same league with the Douglas Boston, but they were first. And speaking of the Boston, it is a fact that the French ordered that machine before the British did. When France fell the British took over her contracts. France always was a keen student of design. Her Mercier low-drag cowlings and the flexibly mounted cannon on her prewar bombers were other noteworthy examples. Hispano-Suiza ``moteur'' hub-firing cannon for fighters were commonplace in France at least twelve years ago.
My cousin Jonathan, who lived a few blocks away, was a Yankees fan, adding to the rivalry with which we played slug and Chinese with a spaldeen on the sidewalk. (You won't find it in any dictionary, but there wasn't a New York boy in those years who could not have told you that a spaldeen, made by the same Spalding Company that manufactured baseballs, was the pink core of a tennis ball and the regulation playing ball of the city's streets.)
Halkin apparently didn't check at OneLook, where (at least until this entry is indexed) three dictionaries, including the 1997 Random House Unabridged, offer two or three definitions.
Has been creatively assigned an acronym expansion: Stupid People's AdvertiseMent.
According to the great fillosofer Discardes --
For US$700 you can buy a CD-ROM with over eight million data records including ``contact name or title, company name where applicable, address, telephone number and fax number when available, .com, .net or .org URL, and email address.'' Finding and emailing you is cheaper than dirt, yet filthier. (Prices for such email collections have come down susbtantially since I first wrote this entry with the $700 figure.)
Is it meaningful to say that something might go wrong with spam?
Now, I am sure that the scholars of this marketing genre -- spamaesthesiologists, or whatever they're called -- have found a number of distinctive features of spam to study, but one that intrigues me is a kind of statistical personalization. To be clear: if the radio talent says ``good luck!'' I may reasonably suspect that this wish is not intentionally directed to me personally. In other words, I know that it's meaningless. If the same expression is conveyed in email, I may not realize that others have received the same message, and so I might consider the possibility that it wasn't meaningless. Taking this one step further, a spammer may send a highly personalized message to millions of victims (what are we -- spamees? electronic toast?). Most who receive this message will realize it is spam, but some of the tiny fraction for whom it is spot-on may be drawn in. These thoughts were prompted by a spam message yesterday that asserted incorrectly (and with an Italian accent) --
There are endless other versions of this, of course. Sometimes it happens inadvertently. Etexts of fine literature are being mined or sampled for camouflage to defeat spam detectors. On the classics list there are threads from time to time asking whether a current high frequency of references to classical antiquity demonstrates highly accurate spam targeting. (Apparently it doesn't.)
A related trick is the fractionated stock prediction. In the simplest version, the artist sends out a free newsletter in different versions, making different predictions, to very large numbers of virgin recipients. To those that received versions of the first newsletter with good predictions, a second round of newsletters is sent out, similarly variable. Some of the second-round recipients will thus receive two accurate newsletters. By iteration, and with no great knowledge of the market, the artist can winnow an exponentially small target audience of newsletter subscribers who have reason to be impressed by the consistent accuracy of the newsletter. This trust can then be manipulated to the artist's profit. That's the theory anyway, and computerized deception management would seem to make it feasible, but I don't know if this has really been tried.
n. A pressed pink pork product marketed by Hormel since 1937. It was distributed as a food supplement in the US during the Great Depression, and to British civilians during WWII. The long-time butt (sorry about that) of jokes, subject of a skit and song on the Monty Python TV series, and inspiration of Haiku (see our entry for homogeneous) and pink spirituality. We have a rather dated page of Spam Religion sites, and Yahoo has indexed a few items, but probably not as many as Josh Warnick.
Hormel reports that Spam is consumed at the rate of 3.8 cans per minute, and they should know, but they couldn't know what fraction of that goes into the kitchen bit bucket.
I just got around to reading SubStance #82, 1997 (i.e., vol. XXVI, no. 1, 1997). SubStance is subtitled A Review of Theory and Literary Criticism and is extremely boring. I don't know why I punish myself, but let's get it over with. This special issue, guest editor Renée Riese Hubert, was on ``Metamorphoses of the Book.'' Paul Zelevansky has an article entitled ``Attention SPAM®'' (pp. 135-159). He asserts (p. 156) that the ``ingredients of SPAM® are pork and ham, salt, water, sugar, sodium nitrate.'' The article doesn't really have much to do with Spam or spam. It's about emerging patterns of inattentive reading or viewing.
The initial sp- in foreign loans typically becomes esp-. For example, smoking (q.v.) became esmoquin and [aother example TK]. I've known some quite well-educated Spanish speakers for who, either reflexively or because they never quite mastered this bit of pronunciation, would call Spanish ``Espanish'' when speaking English. I suppose the traditional pattern was not followed in this case because the initial-consonant cluster has become more familiar to Spanish-speakers in recent years, due to the widespread use of English words. (I say English words advisedly. The Spanish Sprachraum is comfortably large, and most native Spanish-speakers do not learn much English. Certainly as recently as thirty years ago, but it seems to me still today, the most-studied modern foreign language in Spanish-medium secondary schools has been French. The study of Latin also remains popular (with the schools; I won't say it's popular with the students).
The verb spamear seems to be regularly conjugated. Hence, in the simple present tense one has yo spameo, tú spameas, él/ella spamea, nosotros/nosotras spameamos, etc. There is thus a subjunctive form spamee (que spamee means `that [I/he/she/it] spam'). It's something to keep in mind if you're counting ghits to determine the popular English-speakers' consensus on whether the recipient of spam is a ``spamee'' or a ``spammee.'' (The corresponding French verb apparently yields false positives for the spammee form.) I've decided to go with spammee.
nameDeleteThisBit@domain.name>. This strategy (mung) is seen in newsgroups and mailing lists, since in such discussion groups replies are generally sent to the electronic forum rather than to the individual poster. Here's a July 16, 2002 article on spam traps from <poynter.org>.
My cousin Victoria teaches bilingual kindergarten in California, and reports that her students' Spanglish is grammatically correct as Spanish. I didn't ask her for details, but in my immigrant community, fluent Spanglish use makes most borrowed nouns male and avoids English verbs. The mixed morphology of English verbs or even adjectives with Spanish inflections is usually so distasteful that in practice one simply alternates between sentences or clauses entirely in one language or the other (which Human Communication researchers call ``code-switching''). For the most part, true Spanglish is used only by those who are not very bilingual. (But see the RU entry for a counterexample.)
You will have noticed that Spanglish is a blend of English words, whereas franglais and italiese are French and Italian, respectively. That probably reflects the places where these language mixes are an issue. One does not encounter very much franglais and italiese, at least in the US. Spanish-speakers tend to refer to anglicismos, but if a Spanish word for Spanglish is required, the word is very appropriately borrowed from English, with the usual modifications. In particular, since word-initial sp does not occur in Spanish, and since some Spanish speakers have difficulty pronouncing it, the word is sometimes translated into Spanish as espanglish (no, standard Spanish no longer has the esh sound either). More rarely, one encounters the calque espanglés (from español and inglés).
Like most national and local languages in what used to be the western half of the Roman empire, Spanish is a Romance language (i.e., an evolution of Vulgar Latin), and has a fair admixture of Germanic terms. Like English, it has absorbed a lot of words from French during the many centuries when France was culturally dominant.
There's a lot to say about the local evolutions of Vulgar Latin into Portuguese, Spanish, French, and Italian, etc., but for now I just want to point out that in Castilian the initial eff of many Latin words became an aitch (called hache in Spanish). One example: the standard (i.e. ``unmarked'') verb meaning `to talk,' hablar, comes from the Latin fabula, the same root as fable in English. This is very apt.
To be fair, in classical Latin, fabula was a noun meaning `talk, conversation,' as well as one particular kind of talk -- an untrue story, a myth -- or a play. The deponent verb fabulari meant `talk' in the sense of chatter -- ``just talk'' or ``all talk'' or ``telling tales.'') Portuguese uses the cognate falar (no f --> h).
For another example of the sound shift, see the hidalgo entry. Japanese provides a good illustration of the similarity of the two sounds (eff and aitch). This, along with other examples comparing Spanish words with their Latin etymons, is at the higo entry.
I can't believe I link to this entry from all over the glossary, and the only content I have is on this negligible little sound shift! Okay, here are some links to other somewhat general things about Spanish. (For the list items with multiple links, you don't have to return here for the rest. Follow the first one and other relevant entries will be linked from there.)
There's an online Spanish encyclopedia, a kind of wiki effort called la Enciclopedia Libre Universal en Español. As of May 2005, it had over 28000 articles. On February 28, 2006, it had 30478 articles; on the same day, Wikipedia, la enciclopedia libre, had 97518 articles in Spanish. (I haven't attempted any very meaningful comparison of their contents.)
WordReference.com, with pop-ups and animated banners, has Spanish-English and English-Spanish dictionaries that are, so to speak, free. They offer Spanish definitions of English words and vice versa. They're based in large part on dictionaries published by Espasa Calpe, which is pretty classy. (Espasa Calpe also publishes the Diccionario de la Lengua Española (DLE) of the Real Academia Española. That's the accepted authority on spelling and a widely aped source of definitions, but Spanish dictionaries of Spanish are not part of the WordReference.com site as of this writing, May 2005.) There are useful links at the definitions, evidently generated automatically by reverse lookup, and the site has associated language discussion forums which can be searched via links from the entries.
SpanishDICT is a smaller resource, also with animated banners, that offers various single-word translations for words entered in Spanish or English. Unlike WordReference.com, which gives phonetic transcriptions, SpanishDICT has lots of clickable audio files for pronunciation. This site also has animated banners. Ditto <freedict.com>, which has a similar pair of English-Spanish word-translation tools, apparently based on a still smaller word stock than SpanishDICT's. (On the positive side, freedict has tools for many more languages.)
I used to reference a couple of small English to Spanish and Spanish to English vocabularies that had been on the net since early in the life of this glossary. They have become part of the Internet Dictionary Project (IDP). Note that the Files page hasn't been updated in a while. To download the English-Spanish Dictionary File, which is linked to <http://www.aracnet.com/~tyler/IDP/files/Spanish.txt>, use <http://www.june29.com/IDP/files/Spanish.txt>.
For quick'n'dirty results using machine translation, try your luck on the text-entry forms at Altavista's Babel Fish Translation, <freetranslation.com>, or Google Language Tools.
I liked <diccionarios.com> for a while, but now they want you to buy the service after two look-ups.
Adrián Gonzalez, who offers Spanish instruction in New York City, maintains a very comprehensive list of dictionaries. The yourDictionary.com site has a long page listing Romance language dictionaries, including a useful list of Spanish and Spanish translation dictionaries.
It's a good thing each table doesn't require one member from each of the NBO's. ABF and NZCBA have about 32 and 15 thousand members, respectively. The other two NBO's have, uh, more than 100 members each.
I have a little book entitled The SPC Troubleshooting Guide, though I have no actual SPC trouble to shoot at. In the introduction, the author makes this emphatic point: ``It is important to understand that SPC does not control processes. People control processes.'' [Italics in original.] You wonder if the author wouldn't really rather have been writing about gun control. [Italics mine.] Especially when you notice that the author's name is Ronald Blank. For more about gun control, see this fire hazard entry.
If animal abuse excites you, then you might care to read Edmund Leach's ``Anthropological Aspects of Language: Animal Categories and Verbal Abuse,'' in Eric. H. Lenneberg (ed.), New Directions in the Study of Language (MIT Press, 1964) pp. 23-63. It's reprinted in Mythology: Selected Readings, ed. Pierre Miranda (Penguin Books, 1972) pp. 39-67.
Here's some possibly related news. In an interview that aired on LBC TV on February 23, 2007, Lebanese Druze Leader Walid Jumblatt was asked whether he regretted his remarks of February 14, 2007. He replied ``No, but the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty against [sic, in the translation by MEMRI TV] Animals contacted me, and said that they reject the comparison of snakes, whales, and wild beasts to [Syrian dictator] Bashar Al-Assad. [Somewhere along about this point, the respectful interviewer lowers his head and cups his forehead in his hand.] I apologize to that society. But I don't regret anything else I said.'' Jumblatt smiles very slightly. (The apology comes at the end of this video clip.)
In 1906, when Fiorello H. La Guardia returned to the US after twenty-one years in Europe, he worked for the SPCC in New York City, translating the juvenile sections of the French penal code into English.
For some inexplicable reason, they also publish scholarly books on New Testament studies.
The original SPCK continues to be based in London. The Indian and New Zealand SPCK's are based in Delhi and (oh so appropriately) Christchurch. The SPCK-A is based in Adelaide, South Australia. SPCK/USA was established in 1983 at the School of Theology of the University of the South in Sewanee, Tennessee.
One of their hot tips: Check that the facility that does your work has hot and cold running water.
The documents are from Emory University, which is described as being at Oxford, Georgia. When I first visited Atlanta in 1975, I heard that the joke around Emory University was that ``Harvard is the Emory of the North.'' The joke arises from the conceit among alumni that Emory is the ``Harvard of the South.'' I'm sure the claim and the joke (or both of whichever) are older than that but I figured the bidding ought to start somewhere. The same thing is said respecting so many other southern schools that we've milked the idea shamelessly for content in a number of other entries:
John Harvard was born at Stratford-upon-Avon in 1607. (William Shakespeare retired to his home there in 1610.) In his short life, John Harvard inherited a lot of money and bought a bunch of books. Immigrating to the religiously congenial (to Puritans) Massachusetts Bay Colony, he died (1638) and left all his books and half his estate toward a new school. His bequest was the main contribution to the creation of a school planned for the colony, and in 1639 it was decided to call the new school Harvard College. In those days, and still for many years to come, there were only two universities in England -- Cambridge and Oxford. At the time, Oxford was more High Church and Cambridge more Puritan. Things were soon to get a bit bloody, but in any case, the Puritans of Massachusetts built Harvard College in Cambridge (formerly Newtown). (We have a Harvard architecture entry.)
In 1835, almost two hundred years after John Harvard died in Massachusetts, Methodist Bishop John Emory died in Georgia. The Georgia Methodist Conference, which had established a Manual Labor School near Covington in 1834, decided to expand the school in 1836, chartering it as Emory College. Land was purchased for a college town, and the town was named Oxford in honor of the Wesley brothers' alma mater.
In 1915, the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, chartered an Emory University in Atlanta. In 1919, Emory College of Oxford, Ga., moved to Atlanta (near Buford!) (I have to check) and became the College of Arts and Sciences of Emory University. Back in Oxford, a junior college was founded in 1929; today it is the Oxford College of Emory University.
After 16 years out of power, they won a strong victory in the September 27, 1998 general elections (allocated 293 out of 669 seats in the Bundestag for 40.9% of the vote, up from 36.4 per cent in the previous elections of 1994). Party leader Gerhard Schröder became chancellor, forming a government coalition with the Greens (47 seats, 6.7% of the vote). The CDU was the big loser. In elections in 2002, the red-green coalition stayed in power.
For some reason, I think this may be an outdated expression.
The terminology is said to represent the characteristics of the atomic transition line spectra originally studied: s--sharp, p--principal, d--diffuse, f--fine, g--next letter after f. I've also seen ``fundamental'' for f, which makes rather less sense. Even with these hints, the nomenclature is still mysterious.
It's been suggested to me in email that the letters originally represented German words, although I can't find much evidence of this on the Internet. I'm not going to jinx myself by writing that it shouldn't be hard to chase this thing down. It could be hard. What I have found so far is that in 1913 (the year Bohr first published his revolutionary quantum theory of the atom), astronomers were using ``sharp,'' ``principal,'' and ``diffuse'' to describe various series of spectroscopic lines, mostly in the solar spectrum.
So the terminology originally had to do primarily with hydrogen lines, and the ``principal'' series of lines were those of the Balmer series. (Another p series was probably the Pickering lines found in discharge tubes, which had about the same frequency ratios and which Bohr in 1913 correctly reassigned to helium.) The ``sharp'' lines corresponded to the Lyman series, and the ``diffuse'' to the Paschen series. Thus, the letters s, p, and d were originally assigned to transitions whose lower-energy state had principal quantum number n = 1, 2, and 3, respectively. In the Old Quantum Theory, the orbits (computed first Bohr, and later by Sommerfeld and many others) had angular momentum equal to nħ (ħ is my best hbar in HTML). In the later quantum mechanics, the energies of states for n>1 were found to be degenerate, with different states taking all non-negative values of total angular momentum quantum number (l) up to n. Thus, the meanings of s, p, d, etc. were again reassigned, so now s represented l=0, etc., as described in the first paragraph.
You might as well know that this entry is rather more under construction than most other entries in this glossary. Let's hope I don't wax too philosophical.
S.P.E.C.T.R.E. was a fictional terrorist organization led by Ernst Stavro Blofeld. It plays the role in James Bond movies that the nonfictional, or at least once-existent, SMERSH does in various James Bond novels. However, S.P.E.C.T.R.E. made its first appearance in Ian Fleming's novel Thunderball. (Mmmm, you're supposed to already know that Ian Fleming created the James Bond character in a series of novels, the first published in 1953, that were made into movies. After Fleming died in 1964, the franchise was continued by a number of authors, many of whom can hardly have needed the money.)
Jim Mansfield keeps a page of spectroscopy links. Virginia Tech once offered some introductory material on spectroscopy, about which see LASE.
Here's some instructional material from UCSD.
There's a newsgroup.
Some parts of the electromagnetic spectrum are rather densely assigned.
One of the fad fights in K-12 education today is the tracking war. One camp in this war has an obvious solution to the problems that the word sped is a token of. They would mainstream all children. That way, instead of being stigmatized for taking slow classes, they'd be stigmatized for failing regular classes. No wait, that wouldn't happen: the classes would be challenging -- standards would not suffer -- but at the same time no one would fail. ``Leave no child behind.'' Force that knowledge into them! If it's a little bit harder, fine, let them study a little longer -- ten, twelve, twenty hours every evening.
... And order to insured that the english way of life, they appointed Reverend James Blair as president. In my opinion the college was established to revile Harvard. ...
Self-described as ``a professional organization devoted to supporting philosophy inspired by Continental European traditions.'' This is a thought-provoking use of the word professional. That word is derived from the verb profess, as confessional is derived from the verb confess. Not too long ago, one could speak of professing a religion, and one's ``confession'' was one's particular religion, so confession and profession were virtual synonyms.
SPEP explains that it was founded ``in 1962 at Northwestern University, and, as its name suggests, was focused on existentialism and phenomenology. Since that time it has embraced and incorporated other traditions, notably hermeneutics, critical theory, postmodernism or poststructuralism, and feminist theory oriented toward continental writers. In the background there is often the study of German idealism and, for that matter, diverse moments in the history philosophy seen in continental perspective. From time to time it is suggested that the society change its name so as more accurately to represent its activity, but for historical reasons the decision has been to stay with SPEP.''
SPEP is the most numerous society for continental philosophy in North America.
A major source of information on spetsnaz up to the 1980's is the little book Spetsnaz: The Inside Story of the Soviet Special Forces (1987), by Vladimir Rezun, a GRU defector writing under the pseudonym ``Viktor Suvorov.'' (The book occasionally sounds a trifle breathless, but that's a matter of taste. It's pretty meaty in facts and examples. An unrepresentative little bit from the book is misquoted at the razvedka entry.)
SPF factor is defined as the ratio of the exposure time required to get sunburned without protection to the exposure time required with protection. (Therefore, wearing a pair of typical tee shirts, one over the other, should result in an SPF of over 36.) Evidently, this is not just a property of the sunscreen substance but also of the thickness applied. Moreover, since different sunscreens are filters with different wavelength dependences, determination of SPF requires some model of the skin. And of course, skin varies. Stay inside.
A distinction is made between ``chemical'' sunscreens, which absorb UV light, and ``physical'' sunscreens, which reflect it (actually scatter diffusely, unless you wear little bits of mirror). Despite the name, ``chemical'' sunscreens do not generally undergo a chemical reaction. They absorb light into electronic excitations, and the electrons cascade down and reemit longer-wavelength radiation. Much of this radiation is absorbed by the body, so for a given SPF, you probably get hotter wearing chemical sunscreen than wearing physical sunscreen. Some products work by both mechanisms. You can probably use this information to meet chicks at the beach. Just walk up to a supine female and explain this. But then, Walter Mitty, stand back, because nowadays girls weight-train too.
I've been accused of putting a lot of irrelevant information into these glossary entries. Falso.
Tallulah Bankhead once commented that ``they used to photograph Shirley Temple through gauze. They ought to photograph me through linoleum.''
The most common term for this kind of fuel cell, as explained at the PEFC entry, is PEMFC. Oddly enough, most of our information on this kind of fuel cell, if we have any, will be deposited at the PEMFC entry.
Most of the municipalities in the area were formed by secession from a previous larger entity -- Springfield (1793), Westfield (1794), Rahway (1804), Union (1808), and New Providence (1809) seceding in turn from Elizabeth (then called Elizabethtown), Plainfield seceding from Westfield in 1847, those seven townships separating from Newark-dominated Essex County to form Union County in 1857. (There were other shifts -- part of Rahway, for example, was part of the original Westfield.) Many of the town names were names of villages or areas dating back to the colonial era (in particular, [Queen] Elizabeth town, the spring fields, the west fields, the plain fields). In 1877, the village of Scotch plains (known as the Scotsplains when it was homesteaded by Scots in East Jersey colony) seceded from Westfield and became Fanwood Township. It's not certain why it was called Fanwood, but one story is related to the fact that the area long resisted expansion by the Central Jersey Railroad. The story goes that when the Jersey Central finally managed to put a depot there, it was named for spite after the daughter of the President of the railroad, ``Fanny.'' Maybe. In 1895, the same year that farmers in the northern part of Westfield seceded to form the Borough of Mountainside, a part of Fanwood Township seceded to form Fanwood Borough. In 1917, the rump Fanwood Township changed its name back to Scotch Plains.
Probably the greatest degree of integration remaining between Fanwood and Scotch Plains is in the educational system. Fanwood has never had its own high school, and has sent its high-school age children to schools in Plainfield, Westfield, or Scotch Plains. There is currently a single Scotch Plains-Fanwood School District, and Scotch Plains and Fanwood share a common SPFW High School.
Although Fanny Wood Day celebrates Fanwood Borough specifically, the Miss Fanny Wood contest is open to girls between the ages of 3 and 12 from both Fanwood and Scotch Plains.
Princeton, like Fanwood between 1895 and 1917, consists of a governmentally distinct Borough (downtown) and Township. Princeton was originally named for Frederick, Prince of Wales. Frederick was son of King George II and heir presumptive until he died on 20 March (O.S.) or 31 March (N.S.) 1751 at Leicester House in London. George II was succeeded as King by his grandson (and Frederick's son), George III, in October 1760. There's a dismissive squib about Frederick that ends
As it's only poor Fred Who was alive and is dead, There's no more to be said.
In researching this particular glossary item, I chanced upon Monk on Records: a Discography of Thelonious Monk compiled by Leen Bijl and F. Canté (2nd. edn. 1985). A testimonial, from a letter to the compilers, 1982.08.30, is Baroness Pannonica de Koenigswarter's declaration that
I think this is an absolutely monumental work, and there is certainly not another one like it in existence . . . (The look and the feel of it are also a tremendous gas!!!)
The second the occurring in the parallel structure in the parenthetical is grammatically acceptable, but inconsistent with the mood or style of ``tremendous gas!!!'' It looks like a translation error.
I'm losing my mind. At least I have a mind to lose.
At an appearance before the UNCF, then-Vice President of the United States of America J. Danforth Quayle mangled the group's famous slogan (``A mind is a terrible thing to waste''):
Only in 1997, George Herbert Walker Bush finally came out and admitted that he ``blew it'' in choosing Quayle as a running mate. Well, probably so (unless it prevented his assassination), but his timing was interesting: he made this admission just as Texas governor George W. Bush, was being touted as a contender for the Republican presidential nomination, and thus a competitor of JDQ.
Cf. the Society for the Promotion of Roman Studies (SPRS).
Amongst is a Commonwealth English word for among that is also often used in US English (unlike whilst).
Here's a bit on Carnatic music (southern Indian music). This link was down when last I checked.
See, for example, C. Iaconis and I. A. Wamsley, ``Self-referencing spectral interferometry for measuring ultrashort optical pulses,'' IEEE J. Quantum Electron., vol. 35, pp. 500-509, 1999.
A similar previous experiment, BICEP, which used observations at a single microwave wavelength, claimed to have detected the polarization, and here's where the ``dust'' comes in. Doubt was cast on the positive BICEP results when it was suggested that the measured polarization pattern might have been caused by interstellar dust. SPIDER uses two wavelengths in order to measure gravitational lensing along the line of sight, and thus control for the effects of interstellar dust.
The project is led by physicists at Caltech and Princeton, but as is usual for large projects it is a collaboration involving researchers at many universities. The author of a blog called Dropping BallAst wrote ``I am a graduate student in Physics at the University of Toronto. I work on the balloon-borne telescopes SPIDER (Suborbital Polarimeter for Inflation, Dust, and the Epoch of Reionization--my first scientific acronym creation!) and BLASTpol (Balloon-borne Large Aperture Submillimeter Telescope for polarization). This is a place for photographs that I, and others, take along the way.''
Entries for BICEP (and BLASTpol, whatever that stands for) KOMING, but right now I'm under deadline pressure.
There doesn't seem to be a common or established term for initialisms like SPIE, whose expansions have been, so to speak, compressed. We recommend sealed acronyms (q.v.).
Spin seems to accumulate British/American lexical differences. See, for another instance, the english entry.
In British varieties, a spin-out is what in North America is usually called a ``spin-off.'' That is, the equivalent in human activity of a child in biology: a continuing venture separated off from an earlier activity: a TV serial based on characters from an earlier series (which usually continues also); a commercial product originally developed for internal research or support purposes of an academic or business project, that is pursued as a separate business venture, etc.
200 g Zhiguli beer 150 g alcohol varnish 50 g white-lilac cologne 50 g athlete's foot remedyThis is rated in a New Yorker magazine ``Talk of the Town'' review as ``a heady blend.'' However, the fact that the components are combined in small-integer proportions strongly suggests that -- like a circuit with all 100 and 1000 ohm resistors -- it has not been optimized. Nevertheless, Yerofeyev stresses that the key is using only White Lilac. Apparently Lily of the Valley Silver makes you think sad thoughts and cry (at least if drunk straight). Jasmine and Sweetbrier
The Yerofeyev book had been Englished by H. William Tjalsma and given the title Moscow to the End of the Line. (That publication spells the author's name as Venedikt Erofeev, but you realize that the surname with wyes is more phonetically accurate, since the E-like character in the Russian name is ``soft'' (palatalized). But they all transliterate with final v's these days, even though Russian like German devoices v (spelled with a B-like character) into f when it occurs in final postion. Tjalsma also translated Tears of a Komsomol Girl (see below) in the singular (Tear of a).
Some others of the beverages described by Yerofeyev are Tears of a Komsomol Girl, Balsam of Canaan, and Bitches' Brew. A list of less interesting oral anesthetics is available here.
Occasionally a tinner, particularly one of the old school, may be heard to tell about soldering with ``spirits of salt.'' When hearing this dealer in would-be mysteries thus setting forth his supposed superior knowledge one may smile to himself because he knows that the fellow really means hydrochloric acid. Common salt is chloride of sodium and hydrochloric acid is simply water which absorbed chlorine gas [absorbed HCl, actually], as noted previously. Hydrochloric acid may be made by the action of sulphuric acid on common salt. [It's your typical strong-acid-to-weak-acid reaction, helped along by the fact that the reaction is conducted at high temperature, reducing the solubility of HCl.] The result is a large quantity of chlorine [again: HCl -- hydrogen chloride] in the form of gas, which may be caught by water until the latter becomes saturated. The remainder of the salt is changed into a carbonate [actually a sulfate: Na2SO4] instead of a chloride by action of the acid and becomes [with further processing] washing soda or salsoda, and by refinement bicarbonate of soda, or cooking soda, such as is used for household purposes.
The tinner sometimes calls muriatic acid ``spirits of salt,'' because of the manner in which it may be obtained, as above described. When he speaks of ``killed spirits of salt'' he means hydrochloric or muriatic acid in which has been dissolved all the zinc it will take up or ``cut.''
What Hobart had in mind here was the Leblanc process. The sodium sulfate from the first reaction is burned with limestone (mostly CaCO3) and coal (C; you might even say C++), outgassing CO2 and leaving behind calcium sulfide (CaS) and sodium carbonate (Na2CO3). The sulfide is insoluble, so the carbonate can be recovered by washing the ashes. Sodium carbonate is known by various names (depending on its application), including washing soda. The Leblanc process was patented by Nicolas Leblanc in 1791 and was in widespread use for most of the nineteenth century. Perhaps it was still common when Hobart went to school. In 1861 Ernest Solvay developed a more efficient alternative method of manufacturing sodium carbonate, and by the time of this book's first edition (1912), the Solvay method was dominant. In 1938, however, large deposits of trona [Na3(HCO3)(CO3)·2H2O -- hydrated sodium bicarbonate carbonate] were discovered in the US, and since then the mining of this material has made the Solvay process obsolete as well, in North America. (If you see this text, you're probably using a text-based browser and it's likely that the character immediately preceding 2H2O above -- a middle dot -- is not displayed properly.)
Here's the abstract of one paper (scroll down for it) describing research in which SPME is useful:
Putative Alarm Pheromones of the Ant Species Formica obscuripes (Hymenoptera, Formicidae)
Warren J. Wood
Alarm pheromones of the ant species Formica obscuripes were investigated. Volatile compounds in the headspace above aggravated worker ants were collected by solid-phase microextraction (SPME) and analyzed using gas chromatograph-mass spectrometry (GC-MS). Analysis revealed the presence of the suspected alarm pheromones decane, undecane, tridecane, 4-tridecene, pentadecane, and heptadecane, as well as several unidentified components. The identities of the straight-chain hydrocarbons were confirmed by comparison with mass spectra of authentic samples. The location of the double bond in 4-tridecene was determined by a standard methylthiolation derivatization technique.
In Spanish, one sees both portavoz and vocero used.
The argument has been made that the Q stands for Quirites, rather than simply representing an earlier stage of orthography in which the que was regarded as a separate word. (At the time, word spacing was not used, so the distinction is not easy to discover. Try to imagine how one could determine from literature whether non in words like noncupative is just a separate syllable or a separate word, ifEnglishwerewrittenwithoutwordspacing.
Also the name of an online game.
Incidentally, S.P.Q.R. was revived again as late as the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. According to Robert Brentano, Rome Before Avignon: A Social History of Thirteenth-Century Rome (Basic Books, 1974), p. 94:
[Rome] had its own money, the denari provisini senatus, of the type of Champagne (which had been used in Rome particularly between 1154 and 1184), issued by the senate after 1184, with `Roma caput mundi' inscribed on its obverse and `Senatus P.Q.R.' on its reverse.
Boundary stones with the inscription S.P.Q.R. were used as late as 1234, during a failed effort to throw off papal dominion.
Holy cloth! It turns out that some of the details above are slightly off! I'm going to have to research this further. Okay, I think I've got it now. SPR is a special religious ceremony (hence the archaic `raiment' terminology) for divine intercession on behalf of clothing, to prevent holey cloth, say. It works equally well against wool moths and color-fast ketchup. (Nevertheless, you should also use napkins and mothballs too, to demonstrate the sincerity of your religious convictions and the intensity of your longing for immaculate clothing made from whole cloth.) Responsive reading will begin on page one of Sartor Resartus (the Book of Thomas Carlyle).
For an accurate translation of SPR, visit the entry for the French CEA. Cf. OPRI.
Shhh! I hear ... tapping! Morse code from the other side! Spirit: if you read me reply ``e''!
The Roman Society's main journal publications are Britannia (on Roman Britain) and JRS, which appear in November or December each year.
Among the various potential problems contemplated were ohmic heating of the ionosphere; health effects on humans of foreseeable submilliwatt/sq.cm. chronic exposures and larger intermittent exposures; chemical toxicity from large amounts of fuel and exhaust needed to put the systems in orbit (using heavy-lift launch vehicles (HLLV's)]; climatological effects; electromagnetic interference (EMI), mostly to military systems -- we're talking Mojave desert here, remember; and occupational hazards to earthbound and astronaut workers.
The idea never got off the ground, as they say, but it did generate a publicity buzz. People tend to worry a lot about being microwaved -- it's probably a primal fear, along with fear of snakes, spiders, and falling on one's face. A year or two after the ozone hole was discovered in Antarctica, shepherds in southern Argentina (.ar) started reporting blind sheep. [For all I know, this is how cigarette pushers got the idea of marketing to the cartoon-receptive with a camel that wore dark glasses.] It took years to convince residents of Clarence (near Buffalo, NY) that they would not be harmed by Doppler radar the National Weather Service was trying to install there.
The Japanese are always on the lookout for out-of-this-world ways to get power, since they have negligible domestic energy resources. After the Pons-Fleischmann thing was widely discredited, the Japanese government continued to fund research along those lines -- what the heck: very low probability of success, very high potential return if it works. Zero times infinity, could be something. I thought of this when I learned that in FY1998-2000, the Japanese Space Agency (NASDA) funded research (literature-survey, theoretical, and simulation) into SPS. They considered both the microwave scheme usually considered and laser power transmission using fiber-array lasers. [See M. Mori, H. Nagayama, Y. Saito and H. Matsumoto, ``Summary of studies on space solar power systems of the National Space Development Agency of Japan,'' Acta Astronautica, vol. 54, #5, pp. 337-345 (2004).]
An idea related to satellite power systems, but without the conversion losses and difficulties, is direct use of satellite-redirected solar light -- you know, deploy enormous mylar sheets oriented to illuminate the Arctic night/winter. The Russian Space Agency tried this once.
Eventually the perpetrators of SPSS realized that there are others who have a poor understanding of and correspondingly great respect for statistics. They could derive similar benefits from this kind of software. The current line of SPSS products is marketed mostly to business, under the new acronym expansion ``Statistical Product and Service Solutions.''
SPSS was originally created by Stanford University graduate students Norman H. Nie (now Chairman of the Board of SPSS, Inc.), C. Hadlai (Tex) Hull and Dale Bent. (It was originally written in FORTRAN 66.)
(For the punctuationally astute, I note that yes, indeed, there is no comma before the with phrase in the description of Charleston.) The SPT publishes a peer-reviewed journal called Futilité. No wait -- it's called Techné. And a newsletter.
As part of my own research for the insulation entry, I acquired a matched pair (2) of frosted strawberry Kellogg's Pop-Tarts. The microwave cooking instructions call for three seconds at a ``high'' setting. An important safety instruction: ``Do not leave toasting appliance unattended due to risk of fire.''
1s, 1p, 1d, 2s, 1f, 2p, 1g, 2d, 3s, 1h, 2f, 3p, 1i, 2g, ...
The order given ignores spin-orbit coupling, which is sufficiently important that ignoring it yields mostly wrong magic numbers (2, 8, 20, 28, 40, 58, 70, 92, 112 and 138). When spin-orbit coupling is taken account of, a level with orbital angular momenum L (and spin 1/2), having degeneracy (2L+1)×(2½+1) = 2(2L+1), is split into J = L+½ and J = L-½ levels with degeneracies 2J+1. The spin-orbit splitting is comparable to the unsplit-level separation, leading to a different set of magic numbers, viz., the correct values 2, 8, 20, 28, 50, 82, 126 and 184.
Lubek Jastrzebski, Worth Henley and Charles Nuese have an article ``Surface Photovoltage Monitoring of Heavy Metal Contamination in IC Manufacturing'' in the trade glossy Solid State Technology, pp. 27ff (December 1992).
P. Vogl, Harold P. Hjalmarson and John D. Dow, J. Phys. Chem. Solids v. 44, p. 365 (1983).
Seriously, the rate of change of a voltage with time.
For some information about the optical spectrum of strontium, see the food loaf entry.
Sex-selective abortion has caused the ratio to increase in much of East Asia and South Asia. In the Chinese regions of Hainan and Guangdong, the SBR was 1.30 in 2005.
Historically, the sex ratio as a function of age has declined as children grow older (i.e., boys exhibit greater mortality than girls), and in the last century, in the West, the ratio has been a continuously decreasing function of age right through adulthood. (Until the nineteenth century, death during childbirth caused women to have a lower life expectancy at birth, and raised the sex ratio of adults.) In many of the same countries and populations that have unusually high SBR, female infanticide apparently increases the sex ratio further. The Chinese census of 2000 determined that the average sex ratio (for people of all ages) was 1.36 in Hainan. That was the highest regional average; the lowest was Tibet (1.03), and the national average was 1.17. In some parts of India, according to its 2001 census, the sex ratio for children aged 6 and under exceeds 1.25.
There are a number of biological and environmental factors that influence SBR, and it is not inconceivable (sorry) that these account partially for the high SBR numbers in Asia. In studies done during the 1950's, the SRB was found to be correlated with the father's profession.
Not getting any respect? Isn't it time you moved up to an MRBM?
SREML and diminished slow-wave sleep appear to be traits of depressed patients, whereas increased REM density appears to be a more reversible characteristic associated with depressive episodes, according to
SRF resulted from the mating of the Society for Study of Fertility (SSF) with Reproduction magazine. Evidently they were the same species of magazine.
SRG is a private nonprofit that transmits ten radio and three TV channels in the four official languages of that country. It's funded by license fees and by advertising. Oh great, the worst of both worlds.
Here's the news on March 11, 2006: The Long Wait is over! The campaign for the 2008 US presidential nominations has finally begun in earnest, with the first straw poll. It was reported that delegates from 26 states attended this conference of Southern Republicans, which seems to suggest an unsuspected (susurrate, susurrate) aspect of the Republicans' ``Southern strategy.'' The conference was held in Memphis, Tennessee, and 1427 of the 2000-odd (or is that ``2000 odd'' or ``over 1500'' as others reported?) delegates cast votes in the straw poll. Tennessee Senator Bill Frist ``won'' with 36.9% of the first-place (hence: ``fp'') votes. (This was rounded up to 37% by many news outlets. It was actually just 526 out of 1427; do yer ain math.) ``Mitt'' Romney (I don't know his first name), a former governor of Massachusetts, placed second with 14.4% of fp votes. (This was rounded down to ``14%'' by some news outlets, and rounded further down to 13% by Reuters.)
Everyone seemed eager to stress that the results were not very significant, especially at this point et cetera et cetera, though it might give the two ``winners'' some public-attention oxygen. (Most citizens don't know the names of their own senators, you know? So Frist, the Senate majority leader, is not yet well-known.) Many reports noted that the venue probably helped Frist. Indeed, 52% of all ballots were cast by Tennessee delegates.
In fact, the straw poll numbers are significant. Frist got 430 fp votes from his own state's delegates, or about 58%. Tolerable, though not stellar, for a favorite son. Former Tennessee Senator Albert (``Al'') Gore, son of the late Tennessee Senator Albert Gore, Sr., narrowly lost his home state, and the election, in the 2000 US presidential election. Among the remaining delegates, Frist polled about 14% of fp votes.
The two front-runners nationally, Arizona Senator John McCain and former NYC mayor Rudy Giuliani, used different strategies in the straw poll. Giuliani declined an invitation to speak and did not appear on the ballot. McCain showed up but urged delegates to vote for George W. Bush as a write-in. I really want to make a joke here about ``ineligible'' and ``illegible,'' but it would be too strained. Bush is prevented by the 22nd amendment from being elected to a third term. With 10.3% of the vote, Bush tied for third place with Sen. George Allen of Virginia. McCain placed fifth with 4.6% and former Arkansas governor Mike Huckabee sixth with 3.8%. The vote share of the other ``potential presidential candidate'' who spoke at the SRLC, Kansas Senator Sam Brownback, was not reported in anything I saw immediately afterwards, but it was it was very probably less than 3.7%. That leaves at least 16% of the fp votes unaccounted-for.
``SRN News is the only Christian-focused news organization with fully-equipped broadcast facilities at the U.S. House, Senate, and White House manned by full-time correspondents -- ensuring timely, on-the-spot coverage of breaking news.'' In principle, the notion of ``Christian-focused'' is problematic. In practice, I have no problem with it.
With a little sprucing up -- a lampshade, a more comfortable bed, a picture hanging on the wall, a carpet, a coat of paint, tolerably thick walls, a window to open to get rid of the rancid acrid stench of eighty-proof vomit -- one of these could pass for a little room in a London B&B. Okay, a lot of sprucing up. With an attached tiny bathroom and earthquake evacuation instructions, it would resemble a room in a Tokyo ``businessman's hotel.'' It would be the same size, anyway.
In the typical modern New York City version of an SRO hotel, ventilation and musical entertainment are provided by the economized construction: the walls do not reach the ceiling (chicken wire or perf board or something provides desultory security), so you can hear the chorus of your stoned snoring neighbors who haven't showered since they were released. You can sleep through that with a bottle of Ripple in your gut. (I mean the contents of the bottle of Ripple -- the Ripple itself. "[A] bottle" here is used as a quantifier, equivalent to 13 or 17 ounces or whatever.)
An SRO hotel is not a toney place to take your date.
At that time of year, the teeming masses float down the river in truck-tire inner tubes. I paddled; people commented ``New Yorker.'' At a wide, slow part, naked idiots dive off a cliff. I mean idiots not wearing clothes.
There's an annual charity event that involves a rubber-duck lottery. To participate, you buy a numbered duck. You never actually take possession of this duck -- you simply pay for the duck with a particular number to be ``yours.'' The ducks are dumped almost unceremoniously into the river by a dump truck, and later that day the first duck to cross a downstream finish line wins its purchaser some prize.
Rubber and inert masses drift to success. That's the secret of the Salt.
There's a story that during WWII, some German prisoners escaped from a POW camp with a map and a plan; they made their to the Salt River thinking they'd make good their escape by stealing a boat. Nice story anyway.
SRP-54 binds GTP
At IAOP-2001, R. K. Shaltens, L. S. Mason, and J. G. Schreiber of NASA Glenn reported on their continuing work on SRPS's (title: Stirling Radioisotope Power System as an Alternative for NASA's Deep Space Missions).
PSU's form consists of two kinds of questions: required, university-wide questions, and department-selected questions. The required questions used to be just two, apparently, asking students their overall evaluation of the course and the instructor. Now (or perhaps this was always, I'm not sure of the history and the questions are forgettable) there are two other required questions, asking whether the course is being taken as an elective and what grade the student expects. The last question is quite useful, since studies have shown that student evaluations are more highly correlated with the grades students expect than with anything remotely resembling an objective measure of instructor effectiveness or course utility. (Of course, if grades were an objective and absolutely calibrated measure of student learning, student grades would give some indication of teaching effectiveness.)
So far, perhaps, so good. The remaining questions, up to fifteen of them, are chosen by each instructional unit (typically a department) from a list of approved questions. This makes sense, since not all the same questions are appropriate for art courses as for economics courses, say. Further, each unit must use the same questions for all its courses. This makes some sense, since it allows different courses and instructors in a unit to be compared (well, it makes sense if this sort of comparison is desirable). A problem arises with departments that offer courses so different that useful questions regarding some courses are meaningless or worse for others (for the sake of argument, we're assuming that the evaluations are of some positive utility; play along now).
I have never taught a lab course since grad school, but for six years my students had to fill out evaluations that asked them to grade (overall) the lab component of the course and the lab TA's in particular. Students faced with this question knew that they were smarter than the form, but had no way to know how stupid the processing of the form might be. So they couldn't know what effect leaving the question unanswered might have. Thus, I normally had at least a couple of students rate the lab and the lab TA's. This was good, since it probably avoided a zero-divide.
I hope the above example suggests how the requirement to use the same questions across the full spectrum of courses in an instructional unit is a surmountable problem. By the same token, it suggests that with a little bit of intelligent wording, it would be possible to use a single form across the entire institution. But let's not quibble about the deck chairs, because here comes the iceberg.
The remaining questions must be selected from a pool of 177. For example,
For redundant redundancy, see the entire list. According to PSU's SRTE homepage, ``Schreyer Institute for Teaching Excellence supports the SRTE program by generating and processing the survey forms and preparing individual faculty reports.'' Schreyer is a German surname; it's an archaic spelling of the noun Schreier, meaning `crier' (like ``town crier'' or announcer), from the verb schreien, `to shriek.'
It's necessary at this point to say something about how SRTE's and variously named equivalents are used. In principle, one of the main purposes of these is to provide useful feedback to instructors so that they can improve their and their courses' effectiveness. In practice, this is not the case. I have never studied my evaluations and thought -- ``ah yes, this is what I need to work on.'' My deficiencies and limitations as a teacher are clear enough to me, and I can articulate them better than my students. More or somewhat better-designed teaching evaluation instruments would not affect the extent to which I improve what I might but have not improved. This is pretty much the universal view.
That is not to say, however, that teaching evaluations are without any utility and do not affect how courses are taught in subsequent years. Teaching evaluations serve to quantify students' satisfaction with a course. This satisfaction is affected by some factors over which an instructor has little or no control: for example, an instuctor whom students find unpersonable will always suffer in evaluations, and instructors, like noninstructors, cannot very well ``improve'' the persona they project. Most factors affecting student satisfaction, however, might be summarized under the single heading of ``difficulty.'' Students are unhappy if they have to work hard. This is not an entirely unreasonable basis on which to evaluate a course and instructor. A poorly organized course, an ignorant instructor, badly selected problem sets, capricious (but not totally capricious) grading, and most other things that can make a bad course generally do force the conscientious student to work harder.
If poor teaching methods were all that affected students' effort, and hence their satisfaction and the course evaluations, then those evaluations might be genuinely valuable. But this ignores the elephant in the living room, which is content. Differences in teaching methods account for a small part of differences in evaluations. Most of the variation arises from the amount of material covered. In practice, an instructor who receives poor evaluations in a course improves them by making the course easier, or by letting a less demanding instructor teach it.
When I get some time, I'll come back and finish this entry. Then I will
When volleyball teams switch sides of a court (to cancel the advantage any asymmetry -- as from sun position, say -- might give), it's called ``switching sides,'' as far as I know. A side-out is when the team receiving the serve wins a rally; it is awarded serve for the next play, but no point.
The first Social Security check, serial number 00-000-001, was issued to Ida Fuller of Brattlesboro, Vermont, in the amount of $22.54, on January 31, 1940.
That name makes one think: sure, when you're underwater you are under water, but this is almost a surprising way of expressing the idea that you're in the water. In fact, when you're only ``in the water,'' part of you is usually not just above but completely out of the water. And usually when you're under a load of work, the work is all around you! Sooo confusing!
For more stupid reflections of this sort, see the anti- entry.
Writing standardized tests flatters the authors' conceit that they have knowledge enough to grade them.
An expensive particle accelerator elementary particle research in the multi-TeV range. ``Superconducting'' refers to the magnets. Superconductors are used not to achieve high magnetic fields but to keep power consumption down to earthly levels. Dipole magnets (most of the magnets) keep the particles circling as they are accelerated by electric fields; the magnetic field is ramped to keep the particles in a circle of constant radius as their energy increases. (Quadrupole magnets in pairs keep the particle beams focused.) As the particle energy increases beyond the capacity of a small ring to hold, the particle beam (consisting of bunches of particles) is cascaded through a sequence of rings of increasing radius. Between the initial ion source and linear accelerator and collision ring, the SSC was designed and partially built to use three intermediate rings: low-, medium- and high-energy boosters (LEB, MEB, HEB) with circumferences of 600 m, 4.0 km, and 10.8 km, respectively. The HEB would have fed a collider ring with a circumference of 87.1 km. Only the HEB and the colliding ring would have used superconducting magnets.
In the colliding ring, counter-rotating proton and antiproton beams would move in slightly off-center circles, colliding nearly head on at two intersection points 180 degrees apart.
Using counter-rotating beams is trickier than using a single beam colliding against a stationary target, and because a particle beam is a sparse thing compared to a solid target, the event rates are much higher with a stationary target. However, a stationary target is not an option for relativistic reasons. The relevant energy for interpeting the interparticle dynamics of a collision is the center-of-mass energy. In the nonrelativistic (NRNR) regime, the kinetic energy K of a particle is given in terms of rest mass m and velocity v by the formula
1 2 K = - mv . 2For a collision between two particles of equal rest mass (like a proton and an antiproton), one stationary (in the ``lab'' frame) and one moving at velocity v, the center-of-mass moves at velocity v/2 in the lab frame, and each particle has kinetic energy K' = K/4. Hence, in the c.m. frame, the total kinetic energy is 2K' = K/2 -- i.e., half the total kinetic energy of the system in the lab frame. Relativistically, the decrease in energy is much more dramatic.
``The rest,'' as ``they'' say, ``is history.'' I don't know about you, but I find that history can sometimes be a tad tedious.
Oh great: they bought <sscpweb.org>... but it autoforwards to <http://sites.google.com/site/sscpwebsite/>.
That reminds me that the American Institute of Physics (AIP) has a street address of ``One Physics Ellipse.''