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Gaffer Feb 2016
The Brits.
Gaffer
Feb 2016
British people hate foreigners.
It’s nothing personal.
They’re just not British.
Brits go abroad to try the local cuisine, and get a heat.
This will last one day.
The second day they’ll put tomato sauce on everything that moves.
This includes the food they bring with them.
Brits abroad will search out the British pub.
This is called the Irish bar.
Brits will lie in the sun for twelve hours.
Suffering first degree burns.
Convinced the next day they’ll be golden brown.
Brits abroad are easily recognisable.
By the Manchester United strips they wear.
Though they don't actually live in Manchester.
Brits abroad dislike other Brits who live in the next town to them.
Brits abroad will give strangers their last penny, or kick the crap out of them.
Brits abroad will tell anybody listening.
Britain gave the world everything.
From the Steam engine, to the Beatles.
Plus winning two world wars.
Foreigners will shake their heads in total disbelief and agreement.
Then think to themselves.
How the hell did they do it.
It’s nothing personal.
They’re just not British.
Brits go abroad to try the local cuisine, and get a heat.
This will last one day.
The second day they’ll put tomato sauce on everything that moves.
This includes the food they bring with them.
Brits abroad will search out the British pub.
This is called the Irish bar.
Brits will lie in the sun for twelve hours.
Suffering first degree burns.
Convinced the next day they’ll be golden brown.
Brits abroad are easily recognisable.
By the Manchester United strips they wear.
Though they don't actually live in Manchester.
Brits abroad dislike other Brits who live in the next town to them.
Brits abroad will give strangers their last penny, or kick the crap out of them.
Brits abroad will tell anybody listening.
Britain gave the world everything.
From the Steam engine, to the Beatles.
Plus winning two world wars.
Foreigners will shake their heads in total disbelief and agreement.
Then think to themselves.
How the hell did they do it.
Dedicated to Lily and Vicki and the other nice foreigners on Hp who make poetry fun.
Matt
Mar 2016
I watched
Those ex-military Brits
Go on an expedition
They climbed Mandela
A 15,000 foot mountain
In New Guinea
They had to travel
Into unexplored territory
They were there
On a tourist passport
Even the local tribes
Could not give them too much
Information
About where
They were going
They found
Four or five porters
From a local village
One kind hearted man
They named him "Superman"
He spoke one of the dialects
Of The first tribe they encountered
They spotted boys across
The river
Picking berries
And then the elders came
They explained to these tribal leaders
Their mission
They told them to leave their land
Or they would be dead in the morning
They were moving into unchartered territory
The cannibalism had stopped completely in some
Of the tribes in the 50's
Others still maintained that practice into the 70's
They journeyed farther into the jungle
Heavy packs
And they had to carry two sets of gear
One for the jungle
And one for the mountain terrain
Hardy Brits they were
Rugged too!
One a retired Royal Marine
Who was more accustomed
To carrying a heavy pack
The other a retired tank commander
They had been on many expeditions together
One suffered from a type of trenchfoot
Oh the wet conditions!
And leeches too were a nuisance
They left most of their food at
A storage dump
And took four days supply
As they scouted ahead
They were down to just nine bananas
Only the local "Superman"
Would accompany them
Were they were going
The other porters stayed
They came across a family
In a house on stilts
In the middle of the jungle
And my you should have seen
The look of shock on their eyes
As they peered down on those Brits!
They were tapping their heads
And pointing to the sky
The coming of the white man
Their guide told them
That to them this could mean
The end of the world
The Brits and their guide
Mimicked their gestures
And bowed to them on their knees
To show they meant no harm
One villager in the home
Pointed a bow
At one of our courageous travelers
They decided it was best to turn back
Better not to end up as part
Of the evening stew after all
They finally reached the foot of the mountain
And the porters were not sure
If these men had the strength
To summit the 15,000 foot mountain
They were weary from making their way
Through the jungle
The struggling with heavy packs
The porters had often built bridges
Out of sticks
To help them cross streams
And they described what a simple
Type of living it was
Their comrades the porters
Helped them accomplish the task
And enjoyed helping them too
They did reach the summit
And one shouted, "bullocks"
Just for the fun of it
They had grown beards
And had lost quite a bit of weight
One proclaimed
He knew he would be there one day
After seeing Mandela Mountain
On a map
Thank you for filming your journey
This one was en expedition
For the ages
Bless you and your comrades
For you are
The Brits
Who Braved Mandela Mountain
Those ex-military Brits
Go on an expedition
They climbed Mandela
A 15,000 foot mountain
In New Guinea
They had to travel
Into unexplored territory
They were there
On a tourist passport
Even the local tribes
Could not give them too much
Information
About where
They were going
They found
Four or five porters
From a local village
One kind hearted man
They named him "Superman"
He spoke one of the dialects
Of The first tribe they encountered
They spotted boys across
The river
Picking berries
And then the elders came
They explained to these tribal leaders
Their mission
They told them to leave their land
Or they would be dead in the morning
They were moving into unchartered territory
The cannibalism had stopped completely in some
Of the tribes in the 50's
Others still maintained that practice into the 70's
They journeyed farther into the jungle
Heavy packs
And they had to carry two sets of gear
One for the jungle
And one for the mountain terrain
Hardy Brits they were
Rugged too!
One a retired Royal Marine
Who was more accustomed
To carrying a heavy pack
The other a retired tank commander
They had been on many expeditions together
One suffered from a type of trenchfoot
Oh the wet conditions!
And leeches too were a nuisance
They left most of their food at
A storage dump
And took four days supply
As they scouted ahead
They were down to just nine bananas
Only the local "Superman"
Would accompany them
Were they were going
The other porters stayed
They came across a family
In a house on stilts
In the middle of the jungle
And my you should have seen
The look of shock on their eyes
As they peered down on those Brits!
They were tapping their heads
And pointing to the sky
The coming of the white man
Their guide told them
That to them this could mean
The end of the world
The Brits and their guide
Mimicked their gestures
And bowed to them on their knees
To show they meant no harm
One villager in the home
Pointed a bow
At one of our courageous travelers
They decided it was best to turn back
Better not to end up as part
Of the evening stew after all
They finally reached the foot of the mountain
And the porters were not sure
If these men had the strength
To summit the 15,000 foot mountain
They were weary from making their way
Through the jungle
The struggling with heavy packs
The porters had often built bridges
Out of sticks
To help them cross streams
And they described what a simple
Type of living it was
Their comrades the porters
Helped them accomplish the task
And enjoyed helping them too
They did reach the summit
And one shouted, "bullocks"
Just for the fun of it
They had grown beards
And had lost quite a bit of weight
One proclaimed
He knew he would be there one day
After seeing Mandela Mountain
On a map
Thank you for filming your journey
This one was en expedition
For the ages
Bless you and your comrades
For you are
The Brits
Who Braved Mandela Mountain
Mateuš Conrad
Nov 2018
.chris rea: god's great banana skin...
/ such random thoughts are a blessing, esp. after you've been walking for over 2 miles, in the cold and in the rain, with the setting sun... continually impressed by the nature of polyester clothing, how you feel the cold, but aren't cold at all, how you go back home and: you're dripping with sweat... /
the random thought?
about a saying, here's the schematic
synthetic a priori
4 + 6 = 10
IV + VI = X
analytical a posteriori
which statement is true?
within the questioning parameters?
i think it's a trick question...
how else would you be able to
teach these statements and make
replica understandings of
said, statements?
(****... quickfire shots of syrupy
*****... **** me... give me the sweats,
and i'm not even constipated,
it must be the ***** doing
the magic... yeah... sober me?
doesn't like thinking...
but oddly enough, the drunk me?
pulls out philosophy,
no, not as some pretentious
high-brow interest...
i just looked at philosophy as
a genre in literature,
nothing more)...
numbers, like letters...
or in the case of Roman numerals
(letters are numbers)...
i'm unsure whether you can arrive
at crafting them into existence
by analytical parameters,
i don't actually think
that you can conjure up numbers
from analyzing a priori,
given the ad continuum:
but... there was a point in time,
when / where: numbers weren't used...
Kant was a theist,
sorry...
he says it plainly at the end
of his critique of pure reason...
in the transcendental methodology...
sure... he takes a "schizophrenic"
moment to write a thesis
and an antithesis on subjects like
cosmology...
but he's inclined, as i am,
counter to an atheist...
yes... god is probably a monster...
but a ******* gorgeous monster...
kinda like a femme fatale...
so what's not to like?
but this thought didn't arrive
randomly,
and my consciousness
didn't hone in on it...
i didn't vector this thought
to an immediate conclusion...
the thought arrived,
and then: i had to make shrapnel
out of it...
the original thought was complex,
i had to make shrapnel out of it,
in order to put it back together,
so that a cognitive 3 seconds
could be rewritten in under 30 minutes
explaining, why the thought arose...
you know... when thinking
is detached from the moral (θ)-ought
you get to experience these "things"...
here's another schematic...
I + Φ (you put a key into a lock),
Θ (you turn the key), O (the door opens),
hey presto... a free radical iota...
detached from both phi and theta...
i am free from making
a moral ought (i) or the immoral: ought (i) not?
i'm free, hence my concern for...
abstract questions...
back to the original schematic...
synthetic a priori
4 + 6 = 10
IV + VI = X
analytical a posteriori
this actually has a theological
dimension,
supposing i am god...
if i propose an analytical a priori
with a synthetic a posteriori...
well then...
i can't change anything,
i can't actually make changes to...
with my omnipotence,
omniscience etc.
i already analyzed, a priori
the Kantian elevation to theology
comes, via me, stating...
if i analyzed the entirety of
creation...
a priori ex nihil
(from the prior out of nothing)
how can i make a synthesis
in the a posteriori domain,
of the already existing things,
which didn't exist a priori,
since there was nothing,
and i already analyzed the potential
of nothing, and this potential
was realized as everything i would
know to exist... and i went along
with it anyway?
i'm starting to think that
the realm of analytical a priori
doesn't exist for mortals...
the gods can muse this ****-show
of a dimension over and over again...
we're more (being mortals)
synthetic a posteriori...
oh don't get me wrong,
i believe we have the capacity
to comprehend analytical a priori
but it's an analytical a- priori...
we've reached the limits
of the microscope, the telescope,
and the hadron collider...
or on our way to exhaust that...
still being left with an intact mesh of...
the orbits... summer, winter, autumn, spring...
but this thing with this schematic:
synthetic a priori
4 + 6 = 10
IV + VI = X
analytical a posteriori
how can i conjure an understanding
of IV + VI = X...
analytically a priori...
when... i have no hindsight /
prior to understanding of said rubric?
well... with Roman you could say:
analytical a priori,
given the Ancient Romans already
had the letters I, V, X...
but... if you didn't have the concept
of measurements prior,
of arithmetic...
how can you analyze something...
that doesn't exist?
so... you had to synthesize a priori,
working from the letters I, V, X...
to conjure up "numbers"...
numerals... you had to create these
numbers by a synthetic a posteriori
method...
and the 4 + 6 = 10...
well... you analyzed the a posteriori
synthesis, and threw I, V, X out...
and began the second wave of mathematics...
and this is where, authentically...
analytical a priori comes from...
based on I (1), V (5), X (10)...
came IV (4), came VI (6)...
don't mathematicians treat their language
as that of or equivalent to the gods?
now... for the cultural exchange program
that i promised...
on the great British isles...
you have a variety of languages
& dialects,
i'm so sorry that the Scottish
"forgot theirs"...
but when you have something
akin to
English: red
Cymru: coch
or right... they have their Pict
Gael?
Pict Gaelic: dearg
Irish: dearg
Cornish: rudh
we'll require a second word...
what word, what words..
life!
English: life,
Cymru: bywyd
Pict Gaelic: beatha
Irish: saol
Cornish: bewnans...
back, "home"...
we also have sub-groups
in terms of linguistics...
there are the Kashubians...
and there are the Silesians,
and, there are...
the Kurpie...
akin the Welsh, the Pict,
the Ire,
and their language looks like so...
again, borrowing from
red and life...
Polak: czerń
Kashubian: czôrny...
but that can be disputed...
why?
czerwień is not actually
a noun, but an adjective...
a quality of being associated with red...
czerwony? that's a male
adjective...
and the female adjective
is czerwona...
****...
a color has to be something...
the noun adjective that's blood...
Polak: krwawy (czerwony)
Kashubian: czerwiony
Silesian: čerwůny
ah...
Kurpian... high polish?
Masovian?
harder to find the words...
have to use alternatives...
Kurpian: caban
Polak: tępak
Kashubian: osoł
Silesian: yjzel...
(idiot, imbecile)
you know how hard hard it is
to find a Kurpian to Polak
translator?
i can't find one to boil down
to the examples or either
red or life,
i'm reduced to choosing other
words...
like...
Kurpian: chwat...
Polak: chłopak
Silesian: bajtel
Kashubian: knôp...
(boy)
Kurpian: jédło
Polak: jedzenie...
Kashubian: jedzenié
alternative to Silesian:
jadło, i.e.: it ate...
past-participle in
the verb...
let's see what the Silesians
call it...
Silesians: well.. a variation..
chlyb
godka
mietła
masa... all things you can eat...
(edible food)
only a word, like the Kurpian
word akin to kotnå
reveals that Vikings passed via "us"...
kotnå?
an impregnated sheep...
with young...
Kurpian: łańï truń!
Polak: nie mów!
Kashubian: ni gôdac!
Silesian: ńy godka!
(don't speak!)
mind you... Kurpian translation
is hard to find...
and you almost wonder...
at the British isles...
you think, us, Polaks...
do not have sub-linguistic groups
in our ranks,
like your Welsh, your Pict,
your Irish?!
guess again...
you had them all along...
and you thought...
the Polaks were
a homogenous culture...
all this time...
primarily because our culture
wasn't multicultural...
oh but it was... but on the subtle side
of history...
mind you...
defenders of the galaxy?
i knew gamora wasn't white...
but... **** me...
even if black or hispanic...
she looked so **** attired in green...
i was thinking:
absinthe cherub, absinthe cherub...
and forgot about glorifying
Zoe Saldana in all that choc...
what?
a green skinned chic?
if i can forget about
the existence of chocolate...
i'll just anything that moves...
but i knew she wasn't white...
i hate chocolate...
give me an absinthe girl any
day of the week...
yeah...
only the English have complex
ethnicity encompassing
a single language...
only the English...
like **** they are...
at least my linguistic variation
is suited to a bundle of words...
Welsh?! Gaelic?!
completely different languages...
at least in my part of the world
all that is deviating
is a choice of variant nouns!
but then again, the English
speaking world....
how's the new pronoun
dictum coming along?
you keeping up with...
appeasing the new crazies?
oh... you are?!
well... kudos and applause!
p.s. guess what happens with appeasing
the new crazies... guess...
i'll tell you...
you **** around with grammar,
some grammatical pedant will raise
his head up from the crowd and say
something like:
what?!
and then the old crazies rise up...
and... your, ahem, little discussion
about changing the rules of grammar
to "ensure" that the language is
kept, "intact"?
see... mm... hmm... the old crazies?
the old crazies have their own
methods...
they're of the obligation:
let my gun do the talking...
and then...
you get pol *** arithmetic,
of skulls...
being counted in an abacus
of heaping up, "debris"...
see... these new crazies
are bugging me...
they're bugging me...
because the old crazies didn't
attack grammar,
and whatever delusion they had...
i couldn't see it...
the new crazies?
they're attacking grammar,
and the delusion they have...
is... associated with something
i can see as being self-evidently untrue...
the new crazies...
******* spinners... fakers...
i prefer the old crazies...
at least their delusions had ambitions
to deceive in the realm of
the unseen...
the unproved, and never to be
proven...
these new crazies...
i am supposed to speak asylum talk?!
so... society is the new asylum
with the past asylums being
abolished?!
who gave caffeine to these news
crazies?!
******* sane people's naive pandering...
while the depressed man?
hey boy... hey, hey, hey boy...
noose!
i've lost all sympathy for
the victims of a psychotic
version of a repressed P.T.S.D. example...
the mad have hijacked language,
disorientated grammar...
and... b'a'ah, b'a'ah...
no...
i'm with the old
crazies...
at least they're the ones
that can inflict genuine grievance...
rather this policing of restricting
the orthodoxy of the use of language.
p.s.
i found only two paradoxes in this
world...
schadenfreude: feeding a pleasure
from the misery of others...
as...
finding wisdom in others' own
forsake of an antithesis of
universal application...
mainly that, associated:
to a self-gratifying benefit...
the joke ends within the confines
of schadenfreude...
as does passable "wisdom" attached
to instragram novelty of the "maxim"
by your wisened sages
of the selfie...
i've been among the russians,
i know what the true uber looks like...
you hitchhike...
hitchhiking? forget that?
ponzie scheme albatross thingy
of a worth of a british mensch?
funny... a people can so easily
forget the practice of hitchhiking...
so easily: entertaining individual rights...
and: innocent until proven
guilty until some next
teddy bundy comes along...
and then it's all: ooh! ah! woo'ah!
you know, i don't like the cartesian
chiral dynamic,
the whole: nietzsche take...
sum ergo cogito...
i don't like the:
innocentes quoadusque (qua esse)
reus.... inversion...
an innocent man might hang...
well... if you have the death penalty:
too late to regurgitate the
original statements...
but? where's the element of redemption
for the innocent man?
why are so many people captivated
by the shawshank redemption?
there's a redemption story...
in the inverted game?
a jimmy saville walks off scot-free...
the continental model doesn't make
sense with a death penalty...
but without one?
redemption... the atlas "paradox"...
one man usually burdens the fate
of a reciprocate of the unit of one...
but not the many...
me getting laid or not getting laid
is as important to me as:
whether i know about last year's
snowfall...
*** *** ***... all that sort of
******* in the western minds...
*** *** but no children!
recreational procreation without...
any procreation... to begin with...
i'll admit...
english humour is funny...
but schadenfreude is a borrowed term...
hence the lost in translation
element...
the english are terrible at
appreciating if not simply applying
the original zeppelin bomb...
after a while: the english just became
annoying toy-whips
of ***** replicas...
the english knew elevated slap-stick...
with monty python...
with fawlty towers...
they borrowed a term like
schadenfreude and completely lost the plot...
they once, upon a time,
chanced to play a game of linguistic
comedy...
i'm pretty ******* sure
the germans relate to schadenfreude in a different
way... i'm guessing:
the deutsche are not prone to ridicule as
the english are...
the aunglisch are prone
to ridicule out of a sentiment of spite
than out of a repose for giggles...
i don't understand the german sense
of humour,
but understanding the english attempting
to "understand" the german sense of humour
is an enigma in an enigma in a per se...
such integrated back into
the ol' continental ways...
kudos to the brits...
bringing back the commonwealth to stereotype
us europeans with a negative "circumstance"...
now them: ******* up to "correct"
their integration policies... for the commonwealth
peoples of the united wordly wealth of
made in china plastic toys!
a **** among the brits has
the audacity to tell a german he's not
supposed to feel at home on these isles...
sure... and i will never feel quiet at home
in Islamabad either!
so? equal count of hubris!
that's the only thing that ****** me about
these isles... god i love this language...
but... when you get your afghani hounds
on me to do your ***** work?!
even though i'm not: deutsche?!
i'll ******* pretend to be deutsche!
i'm not here to mop up your failed
integration policies...
i settled on keeping my language...
they settled on keeping their sharia,
their **** pajamas and curry...
while adamantly rejecting their language...
in order to implement their desired changes
by subverting your language...
and you gave your language on a *******
platter...
by subverting your language
to accept their cultural tattoos...
let me tell you: if a people don't respect
their own culture,
by way of god, by way of language...
and they are "integrating": without speaking
their native mutterzunge?
they're not respecting either culture...
mongrels ahoy!
what happened to the african-h'americans
not speaking a word of african?
what will they do, ascribe themselves
to ******* scots,
left with no gaelic and more a finnegans' wake
accent gymnastics of some irvine welsh?
nae for no: some glaswegian smart-***
excess of nouns?
hell... they would have never built
a colliseum if they saw:
1 + 4 + 6 + 9 = 20
i.e. I + IV + VI + IX = **
imagine... a society where letters
worked perfectly as sounds
and as arithmetic concepts of measure.
lucky for me the roman empire never
conquered
the lands i come from...
always with the brits being...
oh so so proud having been conquered
by the romans...
what's the prize... archeological sites?!
much respect as great britain...
but... *****... please...
don't pucnh below the waist...
importing your commonwealth dogs
to mark you out among all the other
europeans like some prized asset with
an inkling into h'american affairs...
thanks to you: i'm bored of looking up
the telescope of h'american ****
with their waning cultural export
of a worthwhile entertainment of appreciating
their music.
/ such random thoughts are a blessing, esp. after you've been walking for over 2 miles, in the cold and in the rain, with the setting sun... continually impressed by the nature of polyester clothing, how you feel the cold, but aren't cold at all, how you go back home and: you're dripping with sweat... /
the random thought?
about a saying, here's the schematic
synthetic a priori
4 + 6 = 10
IV + VI = X
analytical a posteriori
which statement is true?
within the questioning parameters?
i think it's a trick question...
how else would you be able to
teach these statements and make
replica understandings of
said, statements?
(****... quickfire shots of syrupy
*****... **** me... give me the sweats,
and i'm not even constipated,
it must be the ***** doing
the magic... yeah... sober me?
doesn't like thinking...
but oddly enough, the drunk me?
pulls out philosophy,
no, not as some pretentious
high-brow interest...
i just looked at philosophy as
a genre in literature,
nothing more)...
numbers, like letters...
or in the case of Roman numerals
(letters are numbers)...
i'm unsure whether you can arrive
at crafting them into existence
by analytical parameters,
i don't actually think
that you can conjure up numbers
from analyzing a priori,
given the ad continuum:
but... there was a point in time,
when / where: numbers weren't used...
Kant was a theist,
sorry...
he says it plainly at the end
of his critique of pure reason...
in the transcendental methodology...
sure... he takes a "schizophrenic"
moment to write a thesis
and an antithesis on subjects like
cosmology...
but he's inclined, as i am,
counter to an atheist...
yes... god is probably a monster...
but a ******* gorgeous monster...
kinda like a femme fatale...
so what's not to like?
but this thought didn't arrive
randomly,
and my consciousness
didn't hone in on it...
i didn't vector this thought
to an immediate conclusion...
the thought arrived,
and then: i had to make shrapnel
out of it...
the original thought was complex,
i had to make shrapnel out of it,
in order to put it back together,
so that a cognitive 3 seconds
could be rewritten in under 30 minutes
explaining, why the thought arose...
you know... when thinking
is detached from the moral (θ)-ought
you get to experience these "things"...
here's another schematic...
I + Φ (you put a key into a lock),
Θ (you turn the key), O (the door opens),
hey presto... a free radical iota...
detached from both phi and theta...
i am free from making
a moral ought (i) or the immoral: ought (i) not?
i'm free, hence my concern for...
abstract questions...
back to the original schematic...
synthetic a priori
4 + 6 = 10
IV + VI = X
analytical a posteriori
this actually has a theological
dimension,
supposing i am god...
if i propose an analytical a priori
with a synthetic a posteriori...
well then...
i can't change anything,
i can't actually make changes to...
with my omnipotence,
omniscience etc.
i already analyzed, a priori
the Kantian elevation to theology
comes, via me, stating...
if i analyzed the entirety of
creation...
a priori ex nihil
(from the prior out of nothing)
how can i make a synthesis
in the a posteriori domain,
of the already existing things,
which didn't exist a priori,
since there was nothing,
and i already analyzed the potential
of nothing, and this potential
was realized as everything i would
know to exist... and i went along
with it anyway?
i'm starting to think that
the realm of analytical a priori
doesn't exist for mortals...
the gods can muse this ****-show
of a dimension over and over again...
we're more (being mortals)
synthetic a posteriori...
oh don't get me wrong,
i believe we have the capacity
to comprehend analytical a priori
but it's an analytical a- priori...
we've reached the limits
of the microscope, the telescope,
and the hadron collider...
or on our way to exhaust that...
still being left with an intact mesh of...
the orbits... summer, winter, autumn, spring...
but this thing with this schematic:
synthetic a priori
4 + 6 = 10
IV + VI = X
analytical a posteriori
how can i conjure an understanding
of IV + VI = X...
analytically a priori...
when... i have no hindsight /
prior to understanding of said rubric?
well... with Roman you could say:
analytical a priori,
given the Ancient Romans already
had the letters I, V, X...
but... if you didn't have the concept
of measurements prior,
of arithmetic...
how can you analyze something...
that doesn't exist?
so... you had to synthesize a priori,
working from the letters I, V, X...
to conjure up "numbers"...
numerals... you had to create these
numbers by a synthetic a posteriori
method...
and the 4 + 6 = 10...
well... you analyzed the a posteriori
synthesis, and threw I, V, X out...
and began the second wave of mathematics...
and this is where, authentically...
analytical a priori comes from...
based on I (1), V (5), X (10)...
came IV (4), came VI (6)...
don't mathematicians treat their language
as that of or equivalent to the gods?
now... for the cultural exchange program
that i promised...
on the great British isles...
you have a variety of languages
& dialects,
i'm so sorry that the Scottish
"forgot theirs"...
but when you have something
akin to
English: red
Cymru: coch
or right... they have their Pict
Gael?
Pict Gaelic: dearg
Irish: dearg
Cornish: rudh
we'll require a second word...
what word, what words..
life!
English: life,
Cymru: bywyd
Pict Gaelic: beatha
Irish: saol
Cornish: bewnans...
back, "home"...
we also have sub-groups
in terms of linguistics...
there are the Kashubians...
and there are the Silesians,
and, there are...
the Kurpie...
akin the Welsh, the Pict,
the Ire,
and their language looks like so...
again, borrowing from
red and life...
Polak: czerń
Kashubian: czôrny...
but that can be disputed...
why?
czerwień is not actually
a noun, but an adjective...
a quality of being associated with red...
czerwony? that's a male
adjective...
and the female adjective
is czerwona...
****...
a color has to be something...
the noun adjective that's blood...
Polak: krwawy (czerwony)
Kashubian: czerwiony
Silesian: čerwůny
ah...
Kurpian... high polish?
Masovian?
harder to find the words...
have to use alternatives...
Kurpian: caban
Polak: tępak
Kashubian: osoł
Silesian: yjzel...
(idiot, imbecile)
you know how hard hard it is
to find a Kurpian to Polak
translator?
i can't find one to boil down
to the examples or either
red or life,
i'm reduced to choosing other
words...
like...
Kurpian: chwat...
Polak: chłopak
Silesian: bajtel
Kashubian: knôp...
(boy)
Kurpian: jédło
Polak: jedzenie...
Kashubian: jedzenié
alternative to Silesian:
jadło, i.e.: it ate...
past-participle in
the verb...
let's see what the Silesians
call it...
Silesians: well.. a variation..
chlyb
godka
mietła
masa... all things you can eat...
(edible food)
only a word, like the Kurpian
word akin to kotnå
reveals that Vikings passed via "us"...
kotnå?
an impregnated sheep...
with young...
Kurpian: łańï truń!
Polak: nie mów!
Kashubian: ni gôdac!
Silesian: ńy godka!
(don't speak!)
mind you... Kurpian translation
is hard to find...
and you almost wonder...
at the British isles...
you think, us, Polaks...
do not have sub-linguistic groups
in our ranks,
like your Welsh, your Pict,
your Irish?!
guess again...
you had them all along...
and you thought...
the Polaks were
a homogenous culture...
all this time...
primarily because our culture
wasn't multicultural...
oh but it was... but on the subtle side
of history...
mind you...
defenders of the galaxy?
i knew gamora wasn't white...
but... **** me...
even if black or hispanic...
she looked so **** attired in green...
i was thinking:
absinthe cherub, absinthe cherub...
and forgot about glorifying
Zoe Saldana in all that choc...
what?
a green skinned chic?
if i can forget about
the existence of chocolate...
i'll just anything that moves...
but i knew she wasn't white...
i hate chocolate...
give me an absinthe girl any
day of the week...
yeah...
only the English have complex
ethnicity encompassing
a single language...
only the English...
like **** they are...
at least my linguistic variation
is suited to a bundle of words...
Welsh?! Gaelic?!
completely different languages...
at least in my part of the world
all that is deviating
is a choice of variant nouns!
but then again, the English
speaking world....
how's the new pronoun
dictum coming along?
you keeping up with...
appeasing the new crazies?
oh... you are?!
well... kudos and applause!
p.s. guess what happens with appeasing
the new crazies... guess...
i'll tell you...
you **** around with grammar,
some grammatical pedant will raise
his head up from the crowd and say
something like:
what?!
and then the old crazies rise up...
and... your, ahem, little discussion
about changing the rules of grammar
to "ensure" that the language is
kept, "intact"?
see... mm... hmm... the old crazies?
the old crazies have their own
methods...
they're of the obligation:
let my gun do the talking...
and then...
you get pol *** arithmetic,
of skulls...
being counted in an abacus
of heaping up, "debris"...
see... these new crazies
are bugging me...
they're bugging me...
because the old crazies didn't
attack grammar,
and whatever delusion they had...
i couldn't see it...
the new crazies?
they're attacking grammar,
and the delusion they have...
is... associated with something
i can see as being self-evidently untrue...
the new crazies...
******* spinners... fakers...
i prefer the old crazies...
at least their delusions had ambitions
to deceive in the realm of
the unseen...
the unproved, and never to be
proven...
these new crazies...
i am supposed to speak asylum talk?!
so... society is the new asylum
with the past asylums being
abolished?!
who gave caffeine to these news
crazies?!
******* sane people's naive pandering...
while the depressed man?
hey boy... hey, hey, hey boy...
noose!
i've lost all sympathy for
the victims of a psychotic
version of a repressed P.T.S.D. example...
the mad have hijacked language,
disorientated grammar...
and... b'a'ah, b'a'ah...
no...
i'm with the old
crazies...
at least they're the ones
that can inflict genuine grievance...
rather this policing of restricting
the orthodoxy of the use of language.
p.s.
i found only two paradoxes in this
world...
schadenfreude: feeding a pleasure
from the misery of others...
as...
finding wisdom in others' own
forsake of an antithesis of
universal application...
mainly that, associated:
to a self-gratifying benefit...
the joke ends within the confines
of schadenfreude...
as does passable "wisdom" attached
to instragram novelty of the "maxim"
by your wisened sages
of the selfie...
i've been among the russians,
i know what the true uber looks like...
you hitchhike...
hitchhiking? forget that?
ponzie scheme albatross thingy
of a worth of a british mensch?
funny... a people can so easily
forget the practice of hitchhiking...
so easily: entertaining individual rights...
and: innocent until proven
guilty until some next
teddy bundy comes along...
and then it's all: ooh! ah! woo'ah!
you know, i don't like the cartesian
chiral dynamic,
the whole: nietzsche take...
sum ergo cogito...
i don't like the:
innocentes quoadusque (qua esse)
reus.... inversion...
an innocent man might hang...
well... if you have the death penalty:
too late to regurgitate the
original statements...
but? where's the element of redemption
for the innocent man?
why are so many people captivated
by the shawshank redemption?
there's a redemption story...
in the inverted game?
a jimmy saville walks off scot-free...
the continental model doesn't make
sense with a death penalty...
but without one?
redemption... the atlas "paradox"...
one man usually burdens the fate
of a reciprocate of the unit of one...
but not the many...
me getting laid or not getting laid
is as important to me as:
whether i know about last year's
snowfall...
*** *** ***... all that sort of
******* in the western minds...
*** *** but no children!
recreational procreation without...
any procreation... to begin with...
i'll admit...
english humour is funny...
but schadenfreude is a borrowed term...
hence the lost in translation
element...
the english are terrible at
appreciating if not simply applying
the original zeppelin bomb...
after a while: the english just became
annoying toy-whips
of ***** replicas...
the english knew elevated slap-stick...
with monty python...
with fawlty towers...
they borrowed a term like
schadenfreude and completely lost the plot...
they once, upon a time,
chanced to play a game of linguistic
comedy...
i'm pretty ******* sure
the germans relate to schadenfreude in a different
way... i'm guessing:
the deutsche are not prone to ridicule as
the english are...
the aunglisch are prone
to ridicule out of a sentiment of spite
than out of a repose for giggles...
i don't understand the german sense
of humour,
but understanding the english attempting
to "understand" the german sense of humour
is an enigma in an enigma in a per se...
such integrated back into
the ol' continental ways...
kudos to the brits...
bringing back the commonwealth to stereotype
us europeans with a negative "circumstance"...
now them: ******* up to "correct"
their integration policies... for the commonwealth
peoples of the united wordly wealth of
made in china plastic toys!
a **** among the brits has
the audacity to tell a german he's not
supposed to feel at home on these isles...
sure... and i will never feel quiet at home
in Islamabad either!
so? equal count of hubris!
that's the only thing that ****** me about
these isles... god i love this language...
but... when you get your afghani hounds
on me to do your ***** work?!
even though i'm not: deutsche?!
i'll ******* pretend to be deutsche!
i'm not here to mop up your failed
integration policies...
i settled on keeping my language...
they settled on keeping their sharia,
their **** pajamas and curry...
while adamantly rejecting their language...
in order to implement their desired changes
by subverting your language...
and you gave your language on a *******
platter...
by subverting your language
to accept their cultural tattoos...
let me tell you: if a people don't respect
their own culture,
by way of god, by way of language...
and they are "integrating": without speaking
their native mutterzunge?
they're not respecting either culture...
mongrels ahoy!
what happened to the african-h'americans
not speaking a word of african?
what will they do, ascribe themselves
to ******* scots,
left with no gaelic and more a finnegans' wake
accent gymnastics of some irvine welsh?
nae for no: some glaswegian smart-***
excess of nouns?
hell... they would have never built
a colliseum if they saw:
1 + 4 + 6 + 9 = 20
i.e. I + IV + VI + IX = **
imagine... a society where letters
worked perfectly as sounds
and as arithmetic concepts of measure.
lucky for me the roman empire never
conquered
the lands i come from...
always with the brits being...
oh so so proud having been conquered
by the romans...
what's the prize... archeological sites?!
much respect as great britain...
but... *****... please...
don't pucnh below the waist...
importing your commonwealth dogs
to mark you out among all the other
europeans like some prized asset with
an inkling into h'american affairs...
thanks to you: i'm bored of looking up
the telescope of h'american ****
with their waning cultural export
of a worthwhile entertainment of appreciating
their music.