Etymology
Dialect, 'blow in gusts'.
Verb
to faff (third-person singular simple present faffs, present participle faffing, simple past and past participle faffed)
(UK, slang) To waste time on an unproductive activity.
I decided to stop faffing about and get some work done.
Usage notes
Particularly used as faff about.
Synonyms
dick around (American)
--Wiktionary
Showing posts with label UK. Show all posts
Showing posts with label UK. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Everything's Better With Platypi
"He's a semi-aquatic, egg-laying mammal of ACTION!"
--Perry the Platypus theme song
"Some believe that the platypus proves that evolution is 100% real, because not even God could make that shit up. This is an animal that, upon being sent to a British natural history museum to catalog, was believed to be a taxidermist's prank. It looks like a beaver crossed with a mole with a duck's bill added for laughs. They belong to a group of mammals known as Monotremes, a group consisting of it and the echidna, which means they lay eggs. Additionally, they're an offshoot of mammals that evolved before teats/nipples evolved, so while they produce milk, they simply... sweat it out for their young to lap up. They also have ten sex chromosomes, where in most mammals there're simply two (X and Y). And their duck-bill? It's actually quite soft, and it acts as an electrical receptor. See, platypus eyes aren't too useful, especially underwater, so they use an electrolocation system in their bills to hunt shrimp and other aquatic invertebrates. (Sharks have a similar sense, in case they weren't scary enough.)
"And to top it off, they're poisonous. Yup, male platypi have poisonous spurs on their feet, and while the poison isn't lethal to humans, the cocktail of venom will usually incapacitate people, and can cause you to be in excruciating, incapacitating pain for months. And to top it off, morphine has no effect on said pain. So it won't kill you, it'll just make you wish it did.
"So, in short, it's easy to see how humans can become so interested in this goofy-looking creature. Odd appearance, cool features, and the ability to cripple you if you get stupid. What better metaphor for Australia? And it's an Inherently Funny Word. Also, baby playtpi are called 'puggles,' which is quite possibly the cutest word ever invented, and have been called so since before pugs were crossed with beagles to make the dog breed of the same name.
"Plus, if you want to talk about them in the plural, expect to confound linguists until the end of time. (Platypodes, platypi, and platypuses are all acceptable spellings.)"
--TVTropes.org
Thursday, November 04, 2010
ARMISTICE DAY WAR POETRY READING
Australian soldiers in Ypres, Belgium, 1917
photo by Frank Hurley
At 11:00 on the eleventh day of the eleventh month of 1918, “The War to End All Wars” came to an end.
Designated Armistice Day, it is still commemorated as such in France and Belgium, as Remembrance Day in the UK and Commonwealth countries, as Volkstrauertag in Germany, and as Veterans Day in the United States.
In World War I, on the Western Front, a years-long stalemate between the German, French, and British armies would see millions of men die pointlessly in the living horror of trench warfare.
Out of this colossal tragedy arose poetry that is among the most beautiful, disturbing, and compelling poetry ever written.
“These men are worth your tears.”
--Wilfred Owen
Classic World War I Poetry
read by Radigan Neuhalfen
2010 November 10, Wednesday
20:00 (8:00 PM)
Friday, September 17, 2010
"We have no chance": England vs. United States, 1950 World Cup
"From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
"On 29 June 1950, at the 1950 FIFA World Cup in Brazil, the United States defeated England 1–0 in a group match.
"At the time, the English considered themselves the 'Kings of Football', with a post-war record of 23 wins, 4 losses, and 3 draws. Conversely, the Americans had lost their last seven international matches by the combined score of 45–2. The odds were 3–1 the English would win the Cup, and 500–1 for the U.S.
"The American team consisted of semi-professional players, most of whom had other jobs to support their families. The team had also been hastily assembled, and had only been able to train together once, and that was the day before they left for Brazil. 'We have no chance,' recently-appointed coach Bill Jeffrey told the press.
"Newspaper headlines in most World Cup nations trumpeted the shocking upset, except in the United States and England.
"There was only one American journalist even at the World Cup: Dent McSkimming of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, who could not get the newspaper to pay for the trip, and had taken time off work to cover the event. His report of the match was the only one to appear in any major American newspaper.
"In England, so unexpected was the result that it was presumed that the 1–0 scoreline was a typing error and so it was reported that England had won on a scoreline of 10–0 or 10–1.
"England's blue kit, which had made its debut in this match, was never worn again.
"The United States and England did not play another World Cup match against each other until the 2010 FIFA World Cup, which ended in a 1–1 draw."
"On 29 June 1950, at the 1950 FIFA World Cup in Brazil, the United States defeated England 1–0 in a group match.
"At the time, the English considered themselves the 'Kings of Football', with a post-war record of 23 wins, 4 losses, and 3 draws. Conversely, the Americans had lost their last seven international matches by the combined score of 45–2. The odds were 3–1 the English would win the Cup, and 500–1 for the U.S.
"The American team consisted of semi-professional players, most of whom had other jobs to support their families. The team had also been hastily assembled, and had only been able to train together once, and that was the day before they left for Brazil. 'We have no chance,' recently-appointed coach Bill Jeffrey told the press.
"Newspaper headlines in most World Cup nations trumpeted the shocking upset, except in the United States and England.
"There was only one American journalist even at the World Cup: Dent McSkimming of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, who could not get the newspaper to pay for the trip, and had taken time off work to cover the event. His report of the match was the only one to appear in any major American newspaper.
"In England, so unexpected was the result that it was presumed that the 1–0 scoreline was a typing error and so it was reported that England had won on a scoreline of 10–0 or 10–1.
"England's blue kit, which had made its debut in this match, was never worn again.
"The United States and England did not play another World Cup match against each other until the 2010 FIFA World Cup, which ended in a 1–1 draw."
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Coastline Paradox
"From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
"The coastline paradox is the counterintuitive observation that the coastline of a landmass does not have a well-defined length. This results from the fractal-like properties of coastlines.
"The measured length of a coastline depends on the scale of measurement: the smaller the increment of measurement, the longer the measured length becomes. Since a landmass has features at all scales, from hundreds of kilometers in size to tiny fractions of a millimeter and smaller, there is no obvious limit to the size of the smallest feature that should not be measured around, and hence no single well-defined perimeter to the landmass.
"Over a wide range of measurement scales, down to the atomic, coastlines show a degree of self-similarity, and as the measurement scale is made smaller and smaller, the measured length continues to increase, tending towards infinity.
"An example of the coastline paradox. If the coastline of Great Britain is measured using fractal units 100 km long, then the length of the coastline is approximately 2800 km. With 50 km units, the total length is approximately 3400 km (600 km longer)."
"The coastline paradox is the counterintuitive observation that the coastline of a landmass does not have a well-defined length. This results from the fractal-like properties of coastlines.
"The measured length of a coastline depends on the scale of measurement: the smaller the increment of measurement, the longer the measured length becomes. Since a landmass has features at all scales, from hundreds of kilometers in size to tiny fractions of a millimeter and smaller, there is no obvious limit to the size of the smallest feature that should not be measured around, and hence no single well-defined perimeter to the landmass.
"Over a wide range of measurement scales, down to the atomic, coastlines show a degree of self-similarity, and as the measurement scale is made smaller and smaller, the measured length continues to increase, tending towards infinity.
Sunday, August 08, 2010
Grande y Felicisima Armada
Defeat of the Spanish Armada
1740-1812 French/English
"From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
"An attempt to press home the English advantage failed the following year, when a comparable English fleet sailed for Portugal and the Azores in 1589. The Norris-Drake Expedition or English Armada limped home after failing to co-ordinate its strategy effectively with the Portuguese.
"High seas buccaneering and the supply of troops to Philip II's enemies in the Netherlands and France continued, but brought few tangible rewards for England. The Anglo-Spanish War dragged on to a stalemate that left Spanish power in Europe and the Americas dominant."
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Happy Australia and New Zealand Army Corps Day
1999 June
“Dr Martin Crotty, a New Zealander who lectures Australian students, tells a story of one student who 'thumped the table after I'd given a seminar and complained at having a New Zealander come and tell us about Anzac.'
“'He was genuinely shocked when I told him what the N and the Z stood for.'
“The historian said Australians had a very 'parochial' view of WW1 and were even less aware of France and Britain's involvement than they were of New Zealand's.
“'The push should be not to just understand New Zealand but to see the Gallipoli campaign and the war in general in more internationalist terms,' he said.”
--http://www.stuff.co.nz/national/2355369/Aussies-forget-the-NZ-in-Anzac
Sunday, April 04, 2010
Happy Easter (Banned in the UK)
The poem that resulted in successful prosecution for "blasphemy" against the publishers in the U.K. (an episode in the history of censorship):
"The Love that Dares to Speak its Name"
James Kirkup
1918-2009 English
As they took him from the cross
I, the centurion, took him in my arms--
the tough lean body
of a man no longer young,
beardless, breathless,
but well hung.
He was still warm.
While they prepared the tomb
I kept guard over him.
His mother and the Magdalen
had gone to fetch clean linen
to shroud his nakedness.
I was alone with him.
For the last time
I kissed his mouth. My tongue
found his, bitter with death.
I licked his wound--
the blood was harsh.
For the last time
I laid my lips around the tip
of that great cock, the instrument
of our salvation, our eternal joy.
The shaft, still throbbed, anointed
with death's final ejaculation.
I knew he'd had it off with other men--
with Herod's guards, with Pontius Pilate,
with John the Baptist, with Paul of Tarsus,
with foxy Judas, a great kisser, with
the rest of the Twelve, together and apart.
He loved all men, body, soul and spirit -- even me.
So now I took off my uniform, and, naked,
lay together with him in his desolation,
caressing every shadow of his cooling flesh,
hugging him and trying to warm him back to life.
Slowly the fire in his thighs went out,
while I grew hotter with unearthly love.
It was the only way I knew to speak our love's proud name,
to tell him of my long devotion, my desire, my dread--
something we had never talked about. My spear, wet with blood,
his dear, broken body all open wounds,
and in each wound his side, his back,
his mouth -- I came and came and came
as if each coming was my last.
And then the miracle possessed us.
I felt him enter into me, and fiercely spend
his spirit's final seed within my hole, my soul,
pulse upon pulse, unto the ends of the earth--
he crucified me with him into kingdom come.
--This is the passionate and blissful crucifixion
same-sex lovers suffer, patiently and gladly.
They inflict these loving injuries of joy and grace
one upon the other, till they die of lust and pain
within the horny paradise of one another's limbs,
with one voice cry to heaven in a last divine release.
Then lie long together, peacefully entwined, with hope
of resurrection, as we did, on that green hill far away.
But before we rose again, they came and took him from me.
They knew not what we had done, but felt
no shame or anger. Rather they were gald for us,
and blessed us, as would he, who loved all men.
And after three long, lonely days, like years,
in which I roamed the gardens of my grief
seeking for him, my one friend who had gone from me,
he rose from sleep, at dawn, and showed himself to me before
all others. And took me to him with
the love that now forever dares to speak its name.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Whitehouse_v_Lemon
"The Love that Dares to Speak its Name"
James Kirkup
1918-2009 English
As they took him from the cross
I, the centurion, took him in my arms--
the tough lean body
of a man no longer young,
beardless, breathless,
but well hung.
He was still warm.
While they prepared the tomb
I kept guard over him.
His mother and the Magdalen
had gone to fetch clean linen
to shroud his nakedness.
I was alone with him.
For the last time
I kissed his mouth. My tongue
found his, bitter with death.
I licked his wound--
the blood was harsh.
For the last time
I laid my lips around the tip
of that great cock, the instrument
of our salvation, our eternal joy.
The shaft, still throbbed, anointed
with death's final ejaculation.
I knew he'd had it off with other men--
with Herod's guards, with Pontius Pilate,
with John the Baptist, with Paul of Tarsus,
with foxy Judas, a great kisser, with
the rest of the Twelve, together and apart.
He loved all men, body, soul and spirit -- even me.
So now I took off my uniform, and, naked,
lay together with him in his desolation,
caressing every shadow of his cooling flesh,
hugging him and trying to warm him back to life.
Slowly the fire in his thighs went out,
while I grew hotter with unearthly love.
It was the only way I knew to speak our love's proud name,
to tell him of my long devotion, my desire, my dread--
something we had never talked about. My spear, wet with blood,
his dear, broken body all open wounds,
and in each wound his side, his back,
his mouth -- I came and came and came
as if each coming was my last.
And then the miracle possessed us.
I felt him enter into me, and fiercely spend
his spirit's final seed within my hole, my soul,
pulse upon pulse, unto the ends of the earth--
he crucified me with him into kingdom come.
--This is the passionate and blissful crucifixion
same-sex lovers suffer, patiently and gladly.
They inflict these loving injuries of joy and grace
one upon the other, till they die of lust and pain
within the horny paradise of one another's limbs,
with one voice cry to heaven in a last divine release.
Then lie long together, peacefully entwined, with hope
of resurrection, as we did, on that green hill far away.
But before we rose again, they came and took him from me.
They knew not what we had done, but felt
no shame or anger. Rather they were gald for us,
and blessed us, as would he, who loved all men.
And after three long, lonely days, like years,
in which I roamed the gardens of my grief
seeking for him, my one friend who had gone from me,
he rose from sleep, at dawn, and showed himself to me before
all others. And took me to him with
the love that now forever dares to speak its name.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Whitehouse_v_Lemon
Sunday, January 03, 2010
The Machine Gun in World War I
“The machine gun had been a symbol of European dominance over distant, alien and despised peoples in Africa and Asia.... By the second decade of the twentieth century, the machine gun had become a means whereby those societies that felt they shared the highest values of civilization, religion, philosophy, science, culture, literature, art, music and a love of nature, were able to continue to bleed each other barbarically year after year.”
--Martin Gilbert, The Somme: Heroism and Horror in the First World War, 2006
--Martin Gilbert, The Somme: Heroism and Horror in the First World War, 2006
J.R.R. Tolkien: World War I British second lieutenant
“It seems now often forgotten that to be caught by youth in 1914 was no less hideous an experience than to be involved in 1939 and the following years. By 1918 all but one of my close friends were dead.”
--J.R.R. Tolkien, introduction to the second edition of The Lord of the Rings
“The Dead Marshes and the approaches to the Morannon owe something to Northern France after the Battle of the Somme.”
--J.R.R. Tolkien
“Hurrying forward again, Sam tripped, catching his foot in some old root or tussock. He fell and came heavily on his hands, which sank deep into sticky ooze, so that his face was brought close to the surface of the dark mere. There was a faint hiss, a noisome smell went up, the lights flickered and danced and swirled. For a moment the water below him looked like some window, glazed with grimy glass, through which he was peering. Wrenching his hands out of the bog, he sprang back with a cry. 'There are dead things, dead faces in the water,' he said with horror.
“'Dead faces!' Gollum laughed. 'The Dead Marshes, yes, yes: that is their name,' he cackled.”
--J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings
--J.R.R. Tolkien, introduction to the second edition of The Lord of the Rings
“The Dead Marshes and the approaches to the Morannon owe something to Northern France after the Battle of the Somme.”
--J.R.R. Tolkien
“Hurrying forward again, Sam tripped, catching his foot in some old root or tussock. He fell and came heavily on his hands, which sank deep into sticky ooze, so that his face was brought close to the surface of the dark mere. There was a faint hiss, a noisome smell went up, the lights flickered and danced and swirled. For a moment the water below him looked like some window, glazed with grimy glass, through which he was peering. Wrenching his hands out of the bog, he sprang back with a cry. 'There are dead things, dead faces in the water,' he said with horror.
“'Dead faces!' Gollum laughed. 'The Dead Marshes, yes, yes: that is their name,' he cackled.”
--J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings
World War I
On the firestep in the trenches during the night, you could hear the groaning of the dying — but you couldn't go out to help them. There were rats feeding on their flesh. They were dying there, dying in misery and pain, and the rats were nibbling away at their flesh.
--Cecil Withers, British private
The air in the dugout is so foul that I sit by the entrance. Walter Mayer and Hendrich from my squad sit next to me. Hendrich has completely lost his composure. He is down on his knees and prays. Mayer loses all patience. He tells him off. In this situation a prayer is senseless... Our roof is blown apart by a 28 cm shell. Because I am sitting by the entrance, I am left unscathed, just shoved inside. Most of the men are dead.
--Walter Pechtold, German soldier
The appearance of the trench is atrocious... In places pools of blood. On the protective wall, in the communication trench, stiff corpses covered with tent canvas... An unbearable stench poisons the air... I have not slept for 72 hours. It is raining.
--Charles Delvert, French infantry captain
When we started firing we just had to load and reload. They went down in their hundreds. You didn't have to aim, we just fired into them.
--German machine gunner
The first thing I saw were two legs sticking out of the ground... There was a skull high up in a tree and helmets with bits of head in them...
--John Masefield, British visitor to the front
Some injured men are able to drag themselves to the rear, the one supporting the other, some using their rifles as crutches. Stretcher-bearers follow them in single file, carrying their burdens of suffering... Oh! The terrible explosion! With infernal violence, a shell bursts right amongst this mob and hideously tears it to pieces.
--Thellier de Poncheville, French soldier
Soon a fresh gun gets through the fire to the front. They are selected soldiers. But by midday they, too, are finished. One of them, bleeding, comes to us. The men are so apathetic that they cannot bring themselves to bandage the man.
--Walter Pechtold, German soldier
All day long they lie there, being decimated, getting themselves killed next to the bodies of those killed earlier.
--French officer
The men often cannot eat in the forward lines because of the smell of corpses, and they cannot sleep either.
--Rupprecht Maria Luitpold Ferdinand, German commander
Shrieks of agony and groans all around me... All about me are bits of men and ghastly mixtures of cloth and blood.
--Anthony R. Hossack, British soldier
These are horrendous days... The infantry have lost about half their men, if not more. Some of those who have survived are no longer human beings, but creatures who are at the end of their tether...
--Albrecht von Thaer, German lieutenant-colonel
I can still see the bewilderment and fear on the men's faces when we went over the top. All over the battlefield, the wounded were lying there — English and German, all asking for help... You couldn't help them. I came across a Cornishman, ripped from shoulder to waist with shrapnel, his stomach on the ground beside him in a pool of blood.
--Harry Patch, British private
Among the living lay the dead. As we dug ourselves in, we found them in layers stacked on top of one another. One company after another had been shoved into the drum-fire and steadily annihilated.
--Ernst Junger, German officer
What a slaughter. Hell cannot be this dreadful.
--Alfred Joubaire, French lieutenant
I saw men dead from exhaustion from their efforts to get out of the mud... We were pitchforked into a quagmire in the dark and there was no possibility of a man helping the one next to him... It was the worst instance I came across of what appeared to be a cruel useless sacrifice of life.
--L.W. Kentish, British officer
Under no circumstances must we relax our effort, and we must retain the offensive.
--Douglas Haig, British commander
hand
decomposed German soldier
legless dead French soldier
dead American soldiers
wounded British soldier
sources:
Dynamic of Destruction: Culture and Mass Killing in the First World War by Alan Kramer, 2007
The Faces of World War I: The Great War in Words and Pictures by Max Arthur, 2007
The Pity of War: Explaining World War I by Niall Ferguson, 1998
The Somme: Heroism and Horror in the First World War by Martin Gilbert, 2006
photographs from Corbis, Getty Images, and the Imperial War Museum London
--Cecil Withers, British private
The air in the dugout is so foul that I sit by the entrance. Walter Mayer and Hendrich from my squad sit next to me. Hendrich has completely lost his composure. He is down on his knees and prays. Mayer loses all patience. He tells him off. In this situation a prayer is senseless... Our roof is blown apart by a 28 cm shell. Because I am sitting by the entrance, I am left unscathed, just shoved inside. Most of the men are dead.
--Walter Pechtold, German soldier
The appearance of the trench is atrocious... In places pools of blood. On the protective wall, in the communication trench, stiff corpses covered with tent canvas... An unbearable stench poisons the air... I have not slept for 72 hours. It is raining.
--Charles Delvert, French infantry captain
When we started firing we just had to load and reload. They went down in their hundreds. You didn't have to aim, we just fired into them.
--German machine gunner
The first thing I saw were two legs sticking out of the ground... There was a skull high up in a tree and helmets with bits of head in them...
--John Masefield, British visitor to the front
Some injured men are able to drag themselves to the rear, the one supporting the other, some using their rifles as crutches. Stretcher-bearers follow them in single file, carrying their burdens of suffering... Oh! The terrible explosion! With infernal violence, a shell bursts right amongst this mob and hideously tears it to pieces.
--Thellier de Poncheville, French soldier
Soon a fresh gun gets through the fire to the front. They are selected soldiers. But by midday they, too, are finished. One of them, bleeding, comes to us. The men are so apathetic that they cannot bring themselves to bandage the man.
--Walter Pechtold, German soldier
All day long they lie there, being decimated, getting themselves killed next to the bodies of those killed earlier.
--French officer
The men often cannot eat in the forward lines because of the smell of corpses, and they cannot sleep either.
--Rupprecht Maria Luitpold Ferdinand, German commander
Shrieks of agony and groans all around me... All about me are bits of men and ghastly mixtures of cloth and blood.
--Anthony R. Hossack, British soldier
These are horrendous days... The infantry have lost about half their men, if not more. Some of those who have survived are no longer human beings, but creatures who are at the end of their tether...
--Albrecht von Thaer, German lieutenant-colonel
I can still see the bewilderment and fear on the men's faces when we went over the top. All over the battlefield, the wounded were lying there — English and German, all asking for help... You couldn't help them. I came across a Cornishman, ripped from shoulder to waist with shrapnel, his stomach on the ground beside him in a pool of blood.
--Harry Patch, British private
Among the living lay the dead. As we dug ourselves in, we found them in layers stacked on top of one another. One company after another had been shoved into the drum-fire and steadily annihilated.
--Ernst Junger, German officer
What a slaughter. Hell cannot be this dreadful.
--Alfred Joubaire, French lieutenant
I saw men dead from exhaustion from their efforts to get out of the mud... We were pitchforked into a quagmire in the dark and there was no possibility of a man helping the one next to him... It was the worst instance I came across of what appeared to be a cruel useless sacrifice of life.
--L.W. Kentish, British officer
Under no circumstances must we relax our effort, and we must retain the offensive.
--Douglas Haig, British commander
hand
decomposed German soldier
legless dead French soldier
dead American soldiers
wounded British soldiersources:
Dynamic of Destruction: Culture and Mass Killing in the First World War by Alan Kramer, 2007
The Faces of World War I: The Great War in Words and Pictures by Max Arthur, 2007
The Pity of War: Explaining World War I by Niall Ferguson, 1998
The Somme: Heroism and Horror in the First World War by Martin Gilbert, 2006
photographs from Corbis, Getty Images, and the Imperial War Museum London
World War I flyers
skull with aviator's helmet and goggles and German 50-mark note between the teeth as a symbol of the cheapness of an aviator's life
Take the manifold out of my back
Take the crankshaft out of my brain
Take the pistons out of my stomach
And assemble the fucking engine again
--World War I aviators' song
Friday, December 25, 2009
on the side of the underprivileged
“In a discussion on BBC Radio Ulster in August P A MacLochlainn said that in his view the details of Jesus' life as presented in the Bible led him to conclude that he was a homosexual.
“'I believe that a 33-year-old unmarried rabbi living in Israel, in the time that he was living and having a favourite friend among the apostles called John, was quite clearly a gay man,' he said.
“'I am entitled to that belief as a gay Christian.
“'Christ, if he were alive today, would be on the parade with us, on the side of the underprivileged, not standing superciliously at the side looking on.'”
--Tony Grew, Pink News, 2007 December 31
“'I believe that a 33-year-old unmarried rabbi living in Israel, in the time that he was living and having a favourite friend among the apostles called John, was quite clearly a gay man,' he said.
“'I am entitled to that belief as a gay Christian.
“'Christ, if he were alive today, would be on the parade with us, on the side of the underprivileged, not standing superciliously at the side looking on.'”
--Tony Grew, Pink News, 2007 December 31
Monday, December 14, 2009
niche political games
"It was the British who developed the idea of the board game as an instrument of moral instruction and exported it to America. There, it was adapted to promote the American Dream of free enterprise and economic success.
"This crusading element in board games is perhaps best exemplified by the best-selling game in history - Monopoly - which celebrated wealth and avarice in the wake of the Great Depression. Ironically, this most capitalist of games was derived from a radical socialist game first published in Britain in 1913....
"The British continue to produce niche political games like War on Terror which plays on satire, but mainstream British games designers have joined the computer games revolution."
--BBC Four Programmes: Games Britannia - Monopolies and Mergers
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Health Care
"What Americans often consider a single unique system of health care is an illusion: we exist in a sea of not-so-unique alternatives. Like the citizens of Germany and Japan, workers in the United States share insurance premiums with an employer. Like Canadians, our older, destitute and disabled citizens see private providers with the government paying. Like the British, military veterans and Native Americans receive care in government facilities with the government paying the tab. And like the poor around the world, our uninsured pay cash, finagle charity care, or stay home."
--Abigail Zuger, "One Injury, 10 Countries: A Journey in Health Care," New York Times, 2009 September 14, review of The Healing of America: A Global Quest for Better, Cheaper, and Fairer Health Care by T.R. Reid
--Abigail Zuger, "One Injury, 10 Countries: A Journey in Health Care," New York Times, 2009 September 14, review of The Healing of America: A Global Quest for Better, Cheaper, and Fairer Health Care by T.R. Reid
Sunday, August 02, 2009
to be an American
“Sarah!” she called. “Sarah, do come and meet young Mr. Mathews, who wants to be called Warren.”
A tall, pretty girl turned from a group of other drinkers to smile at him, extending her hand, but when Marjorie Blaine said “He’s an American,” the girl’s smile froze and her hand fell.
“Oh,” she said. “How nice.” And she turned away again.
It wasn’t a good time to be an American in London. Eisenhower had been elected and the Rosenbergs killed; Joseph McCarthy was on the rise, and the war in Korea, with its reluctant contingent of British troops, had come to seem as if it might last forever.
--Richard Yates, “Liars in Love,” 1981
A tall, pretty girl turned from a group of other drinkers to smile at him, extending her hand, but when Marjorie Blaine said “He’s an American,” the girl’s smile froze and her hand fell.
“Oh,” she said. “How nice.” And she turned away again.
It wasn’t a good time to be an American in London. Eisenhower had been elected and the Rosenbergs killed; Joseph McCarthy was on the rise, and the war in Korea, with its reluctant contingent of British troops, had come to seem as if it might last forever.
--Richard Yates, “Liars in Love,” 1981
Saturday, June 06, 2009
Thursday, April 09, 2009
Agnostic
"Bertrand Russell was a well known British philosopher of the 20th century. He was arrested during World War I for anti-war activities, and filled out a form at the jail. The officer, noting that Russell had defined his religious affiliation as 'Agnostic' commented: 'Ah yes; we all worship Him in our own way, don't we.' This comment allegedly 'kept him smiling through his first few days of incarceration.'"
--http://www.religioustolerance.org/agnostic.htm
--http://www.religioustolerance.org/agnostic.htm
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