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There is something so cool about turning on the radio and hearing a symphony you’ve played in chamber orchestra. This is Beethoven’s 2nd, and I adore it. It was the grand finale to our concert in January, and it has deplaced the 7th as my Official Favourite Beethoven Symphony. We’re working on the 1st now, and it just doesn’t grab me like the 2nd does. I’m loving the Mozart we’re doing though, the 26th. Which I must go downtown to find a recording of this very day – heh heh heh – HMV, here I come, second weekend in a row! I buy very few CDs now; they’re expensive and I haven’t exactly had the disposable income necessary, nor the time to check out music stores. Barring last weekend’s joyous celebration of Baebes, I think I’ve bought all of six CDs this year, most of which were under $10 and study discs for orchestra (gotta love those classical Naxos CDs!). Before that… hmm… I bought the Harry Potter soundtrack in early December. I think that’s pretty much it for last few months of 2001; I don’t even remember what else I might have bought after the summer. I’m looking for a recording of the Mozart and some Bartok, again for orchestra prep purposes. It’s not so hot today, so it will be a nice trip. Maybe I’ll take the 104 again.

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I will explain a simple feature of human cadence.

We’re simple creatures. We like a da-DAH, da-DAH, da-DAH rhythm. Why? Because it’s our heartbeat. Simple. Elegant. A bassline accompaniment to everything we do. People who tell you they have no rhythm are either lying or vampires.

A pair of syllables (like da-DAH) that are unstressed-stressed is called an iamb. Most of English words and phrases fit this pattern; iamb followed by iambs followed by iambs. We stress the first syllable of a good chunk of words making up our language.

So when Lore Fitzgerald Sj�berg (yes, of the Shuttlecocks) remarked upon the eerie coincidence of posting his Twelve Actual AP Headlines Which, When Followed By ‘Doo-Dah, Doo-Dah,’ Can Be Sung To The Tune of ‘Camptown Races’ synchronous with the appearance of this article on writing catchy headlines, I checked the article out. The author seems to think he’s hit on some sort of miraculous discovery. I just shook my head and sighed.

It’s called iambic meter, folks. The best example of this is Shakespeare. Read this without stopping at the end of every line for breath, or without being overly dramatic. (That’s just wrong. Use the punctuation; that’s what it’s there for.)

To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them?

(Hamlet, III.i, if you need to know.) See how it’s sort of sing-songy? The human ear likes that cadence; it’s familiar, and we like familiar things. I should actually go a step further and say that it’s the Western ear that likes that cadence, for I cannot state with any sort of authority that Oriental literature follows the same style as Occidental. (Incidentally, it’s the same with music. We like a nice balanced eight-note scale with proper intervals. Asian and Indian music is hard for some people to wrap their ears around because it doesn’t follow the same musical rules; their idea of what is aurally pleasing is completely different.) Anyway, if you remove the last three syllables (that would be a weak-strong-weak syllable sequence) from any of the first four lines I’ve quoted up there and replace it with “doo-dah, doo-dah”, you’d have the same phenomenon that the dork who wrote the news story discovered (the comma is a pause, replacing one of the beats in the musical line). Case in point:

“The SLINGS and ARrows OF outRAGE, DOO-dah, DOO-dah.”

You’re welcome.

You know, one of my friends called me from his copywriting job (not copyrighting; on the contrary, he likes to claim that the term “copyright infringement” was created for him) last week and said that I was his last hope for aid, having gone through other copywriters and English graduates of various levels. It was a question concerning the use of the terms “logistics systems” and “logistical systems”. I talked it through for him and he seemed impressed, saying, “That sounds like an actual rule!” “Rule?” I said. “No one’s ever taught me a rule about this. It just makes sense.” “Wait a minute,” he said, becoming slightly suspicious in an amused sort of way; “You’re using the Force on this one, aren’t you.” Heck, yes! Grammar is all about using the Force! It’s a feeling. It’s being aware of what you’ve seen used elsewhere, and knowing instinctively if it’s correct or not. It’s about scanning. (Not with a machine, to the ear.)

What’s wrong with using the Force anyway? Just because it’s a totally subjective matter that you have to take my word for and can’t quantify doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing…

Autumn: Jedi M.A. in English. Guardian of Peace, Justice, and the English Language within the Galaxy.

Okay, now I’m hungry. I’ve been awake for two and a half hours. It’s beginning to be light outside. This is just wrong.

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Do you read The Brunching Shuttlecocks? If you don’t, you should. I don’t know how I’ve forgotten to add their link to the left for so long. A quote from one of their latest rating articles, the subject being Keyboard Characters:

Backslash:
I have, at various points in my life, been in the position to use both some form of DOS and some form of UNIX. Those of you who have no duck-strangling idea what I’m talking about, just smile and nod. The only point here is that DOS uses backslashes a lot and UNIX uses forward slashes a lot and the effect of using both is somewhat like having Darth Vader for homeroom and Yoda for first period. Many say that DOS is the dark side, but actually UNIX is more like the dark side: It’s less likely to find the one way to destroy your incredibly powerful machine, and more likely to make upper management choke. C-

Go. Browse their ratings and reviews of things like Canadian Snack Foods, Power Tools, and Psychic Powers.

Wee Smas

So I’m here at 4:45 AM, tuning up my blog. Can’t sleep. Probably has something to do with having a glass of red wine, watching an hour of TV, and going to bed at 9 PM last night. When I woke up at 3:30 AM I knew it was game over, but I tried to lie in bed for a little while anyway, in case sleep decided to mosey on back. No such luck. So here I am, with a cat on my lap (if you knew I was using my ergonomic kneeling chair you’d understand how creative this positioning of cat can be), listening to the very first Mediaeval Baebes album, Salva Nos, which I picked up yesterday to complete my set. It has the stunning, show-stopping Gaudete on it, which is one of the pieces of music which can seize me no matter what I’m doing, get my blood flowing and lift me spiritually out of whatever mood I’ve been in. A great track to raise energy, if you put it on repeat and sing along. Assuming you can sing Latin and understand what you’re singing. Which I can, in Gaudete. (Insert smirk here.) It also has the phenomenal title track, Salva Nos, which is, like Gaudete, another chant to Mary, whom we all know is the Goddess anyway, right? (Yes, I’m getting the Latin down for that one too, rather rapidly.)

Salva nos, Stella Maris
Et regina celorum
Que pura Deum paris […]
Salva nos, Stella Maris
Et regina celorum
O virgo specialis
Sis nobis salutaris
Imperatrix celorum […]
Lux cecis, dux ignaris
Solamen angelorum!

Oooh… I just get shivers. Which have nothing to do with being barefoot in the middle of the night when the temperature has dropped twenty degrees (honestly, does anyone remember something called a seasonal temperature?).

I know what this means. It means I’ll have to take a nap this afternoon, or risk falling asleep in the middle of the student round-table discussion I’m co-moderating tonight.

Speaking of students, I pulled off another spectacular workshop Tuesday night. I’m beginning to think that I really am good at this, and people aren’t just saying it to be nice.

CURRENTLY READING:

Wicca: The Old Religion in the New Age by Vivianne Crowley. There exists an interesting phenomenon in the Wicca division of occult publishing. There are hundreds of 101 texts, and very few advanced texts. Why? Because it’s an experiential religion, meaning once the basics are communicated you have to build on them yourself, creating your own relationship with the Divine. No one, published author or otherwise, can tell you how that’s done. They can give you suggestions, but in essence, you become your own 201 text. Which is very cool, but a bit frustrating as well. Anyway, the upshot of all this is I read a lot of 101 texts, partially to become familar with the variety of crap and fluff that’s being published, but also to zero in on the good stuff, the wheat amongst the chaff that I can recommend to seekers when they interrupt – er, ask my help at work. I enjoy it a lot more than people might think. Sure, the basics are repetative, but the interesting thing is how the authors express those basics, what angle they approach them from. You can learn a lot about the complexities of spiritual and religious philosophy from how the same thing is said a dozen different ways. Vivianne Crowley is a nice, solid, British antidote to a lot of the fluff that’s being sold these days. It’s not new; it was originally published in 1996. This is a revised edition; hence the subtitle.

Meeting of the Waters by Caiseal M�r. It says it’s book one of The Watchers. We’ll see if it makes the trilogy potential or not. Alternate Celtic fantasy, set around the Fir Bolg/Danaan clash. It’s got ravens, standing stones, harps, druids, cover art by Yvonne Gilbert that I fall for every time, damn it. Eh. It’s bus-reading material, which in my world means a book that fits in my bag (Trollope has been relegated to at-home reading), a story that isn’t too complex (a book that gets picked up and put down frequently can’t be too deep or intricate otherwise you spend too much time trying to remember what happened), a story that isn’t so meaningful that I’ll become too involved and miss my stop.

Are You Not Over That Yet?

Ah. It all becomes clear.

The reason that the US is bombing our soldiers, raising import duties on our softwood, and dishonouring our flag by not only letting it touch the ground but spreading it out on the floor of hockey dressing rooms, is all because they’re still smarting from that little manoeuver we did in 1814. You know, the one where we managed to penetrate all the way to Washington and burn down the White House.

Yeah, that would rankle. Thanks to the Grand Poohbah for clarifying.