Showing posts with label Brilliant Things. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brilliant Things. Show all posts

Tuesday, 12 March 2019

"You have been in Afghanistan, nhi-ka"

Wonderfully, the Tariana language of the Amazon has different grammatical tenses that indicate where you got the evidence for what you are saying: Whether you saw it, detected it non-visually, were told about it, inferred it... or assumed it. 

So, according to the fieldwork of the linguist Alexandra Aikhenvald, here are five ways to report on the culinary activities of your father's younger brother:


Nu-nami karaka di-merita-naka
My younger uncle is frying chicken' (I (the speaker) see him)

Nu-nami karaka di-merita-mha
'My younger uncle is frying chicken' (I smell the fried chicken, but cannot see this)

Nu-nami karaka di-merita-pida-ka
'My younger uncle has fried chicken' (I was told recently)

Nu-nami karaka di-merita-nhi-ka
'My younger uncle has fried chicken' (I see bits of grease stuck on his hands and he smells of fried chicken)

And my favourite:

Nu-nami karaka di-merita-si-ka
'My younger uncle has fried chicken' (I assume so: he gets so much money he can afford it, and he looks like he has had a nice meal)

Image result for harland sanders
My younger uncle.
Aikhenvald goes on to say that Tariana speakers use the second of these tenses when reporting their dreams, since they did not really 'see' them. Unless... they belong to the highest caste of shaman, known as yawi, whose dreams are taken to be true. (Yawi are also believed to be capable of turning themselves into jaguars. So I suppose I can see why you'd let them tell you their boring dreams.)

Wednesday, 23 April 2014

Good Dog!


This week, I'm on The Unbelievable Truth again, which is one of my favourite shows to do, and indeed to listen to. You can hear it here, via the iPlayer for the next six days or so.  

In the show, you give a short lecture on a subject, almost all of which must be lies, but with five 'unbelievable truths' hidden somewhere. Here is what I had to say about dogs, together with some extra nonsense which didn't make the edit. But to find out four of the five unbelievable truths hidden therein, you will have to listen to the show... 

My dog can fly.

Dogs and humans have been together since the beginning of time. The Ancient Greeks used spaniels to catch fish and tell the future. Old English sheepdogs were used in old England to herd pigeons and children. Aristocrats used miniature poodles as hand-warmers, whilst starving peasants would allow Yorkshire Terriers to swim in a cauldron of warm water for ten minutes, and then drink the result, known as 'Dog Soup'. And of course today, dogs work for us as everything from wine tasters to air traffic controllers.

The actor John Wayne claimed he had won Lassie the dog in a poker game. However, Lassie the dog claimed she had won the actor John Wayne in a poker game. It was a classic stand-off. John Wayne called Lassie the dog a dirty liar. Lassie said the hell she was a liar, one-eyed jacks were wild, and John Wayne damn well knew it. John Wayne said all dogs cheated at cards anyway, did Lassie think he’d never seen that painting?  In the resulting shootout, Lassie lost an ear, and John Wayne was killed. But not wanting to upset the children, Columbia Studios bought another cowboy that looked just like John Wayne, and never told anybody. Similarly, we’re already on our fifth Justin Bieber.

Dog, spelt backwards, is of course 'good'; a fact that has led many people to worship them as Gods. The Toltec civilisation believed their Gods watched them through the eyes of chihuahuas. The Egyptian God Atem had the head of a dog and the body of a squirrel, and was forever chasing himself around heaven. And of course St Christopher is often portrayed with the head of a dog, owing to an unfortunate confusion between 'from Canaan' and 'Canine'

David will like this - the Siberian Husky is not technically a dog at all. It is in fact... six cats in a costume. Two on the front legs, two on the back, one in the head, and one in the middle working the tongue and the tail. You might ask, how could one cat inside a husky reach both the tongue and the tail? To which I would reply... Is that really the part of this that's bothering you?

The inventor Alexander Graham Bell claimed he had taught his dog to talk. However, it was noticeable he would only claim this whilst using his new invention, the telephone. 'Oh, by the by’ he would say ‘I’ve taught the dog to talk. Shall I put him on? "Herro! I'm Ruffles! Rri can talk now! Sausages!" There. That was him. Aren't I a good inventor?'

As a boy, King William II rode out to hunt on a mastiff instead of a horse. Henry III would often wear a basket of Bichon Frises round his neck  in a confused attempt to get girls to look at him. And of course the Queen has six corgis, named Tesco, Shiny George, Little Sir Woofsalot, Bernard Bresslaw, Argax the Destroyer, and Unnamed Dog.

Only sixteen dalmations were used in the live action remake of 101 Dalmations. They were then multiplied with CGI, but only after special dog make-up artists changed the pattern of their spots. The film did, however, use two Glenn Closes, as the original got rabies during filming, and the studio just pulled the old John Wayne trick.

My dog can't fly. But he can ride a horse.

The fifth unbelievable truth I am going to tell you now, because it's my new favourite truth I have ever tried to smuggle on the show (beating the previous title-holder, which was that Prince Waldemar of Prussia once played a trick on his grandmother, Queen Victoria, by letting a crocodile loose in her study.) 

It is that in the Eastern Orthodox Church, St Christopher was often shown in icons as having the head of a dog, because of a mix-up between the Latin for 'from Canaan' and… 'Canine'. Yes, that is actually true. I know, but it is. No, it is. Trust me, it is. 

I can tell you still don't believe me. 

Fine.

St Stephen trying to dry St Christopher's paws before he comes into the house. 


St Christopher performing the miracle of the Untaken Biscuit.

'Shake, St Christopher! Good boy!' 

Thursday, 6 March 2014

Thank you for the thank yous!

Sorry if this is a rather self-indulgent post, but I really do have to thank the extraordinary and talented fans of Cabin Pressure for some of the astonishingly creative ways they've been saying thank you since the final recording.

First, this wonderful video. Never have so many people, in so many places and in so many languages, done quite so many silly things with so many lemons, hats, yellow cars and Toblerones. I absolutely love it (and the Arthur-in-a-box it came with) - thank you all so much!


Not only that, but the organisers of it have also been fund-raising for the National Literacy Trust , an excellent cause for which they have raised an amazing £2,265, and counting! Thank you so much to everyone who donated, and for the lovely comments on that site, all of which I have read.

Next, at the recording I was given a copy of this incredible book, which is a compilation of the work of some extremely talented artists and cartoonists, and their portrayals of everything from Carolyn presenting Herc with Finn McCool III, to Martin in the back of the goose truck, to the crew's favourite meals to… well, to what the crew would look like if they were all cats. It's absolutely tremendous, though I am sickened by how much better than me at drawing you all are.

Last but not least, thank you for all the individual cards and letters that have been sent to me, or given to me at the recording. They mean an awful lot, and I will reply to all the ones with return addresses eventually - sorry if it takes a while.

Maybe everyone who writes a show thinks this, but I really do feel the people who like my show are an unusually talented, generous, thoughtful and, above all, deeply silly lot. Thank you so much! You are truly… (here it comes, I've been using similes all through this post so I can save it up for the end)… Brilliant!


UPDATE: Since I first posted this, I have also been shown this wonderful song.  Thank you!

Thursday, 21 October 2010

Hold the snide.

I feel this blog has got a little sneery lately, so here's something I saw in Edinburgh that I really liked. It made me both smile and admire everyone involved - the person who wrote it, and the people who did what they did when they read it. Click for a bigger version, if it's too small to read.