You can scrub as hard as you want, but you still canāt pronounce French. Thatās basically natural law.
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You can scrub as hard as you want, but you still canāt pronounce French. Thatās basically natural law.
.
cf.

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A terrible but proud moment. I should get back into the language stuff; assuage my verbal French panic. Even if I already know it is like original sin.
Philosophical conditions aside¹, I donāt think Iāve hit this level of language reading comprehension this fast before. I think the fear was mostly because since my first non-native sort of language was Arabic (the English and Spanish sort of happened simultaneously natively as my Mom was around when I was pre-pre-school), whenever I see diacritical marks I panic because in Arabic they are the vowels and itās just so difficult. But in this case, there are SO MANY cognates² and latinate bits and the letters otherwise act mostly the same, superceding things at least in terms of decoding text.
(2. FDC 12:35. Itās a fraud, itās a fraud language.) https://overcast.fm/+BWjaWToU/12:34
(1., SF 45. You can scrub as hard as you want, but you still canāt pronounce French) https://overcast.fm/+BWhbBcB0/0:45. (° aw, the Mr. Show bit bit is so soon after that.)
(0. Ohman, just finish listening to Schadenfunny. I also love other things, but there is objectively nothing better.
(ā¦I have near endless aloha for Alottaboutathing guys, but a FCLWMBAC is almost certainly among my top 5 imaginary friends even years later.) http://miasmaofdata.tumblr.com/post/17957979984/capnmariam-a-fancy-corporate-lawyer-who
French/Gettysburg Address Question, upon coasting through the weights/measures dates/times units: is this program squirrelly or are numbers really reported in this 4-score and change way? Was Lincoln secretly* a little French? His being adroit vis-Ć -vis the law could have introduced it, was it a speechwriter affectation? I will ponder this all day, I think. *Beyond some quiet ennui? (Which strikes me as the most French feeling despite their implication it JUST means boredom, which seems a little un-nuanced.)
I just found myself on the viewer side of French subtitles and I could understand them and emitted a delighted little scream.
āVelocity and Excellenceā, the 15 minute museum video from the card museum, was engaging certainly because itās right in an interest pocket of mine. However, this video was taken more because I was certain (CERTAIN) that the soundtrack songs were ripped right from the BBC miniseries of Pride and Prejudice (with Jennifer Ehle, in 1995).
That version will always be particularly special as I remember me and my mom stumbled upon it on PBS and it was a big benchmark mover for the latest we ever stayed up together. I also used to play the versions of it from youtube in the background when writing my dissertation. Maybe thatās what iāve been needing.
Anyhow, I forgot that my ipad was in my bag, as I keep Chapter 6 of that series in a VLCfile with me for times when it is what I need, which was dumb because I couldāve checked right there. Anyhow, it totally was. (Not just this song! Several songs! It was really very amusing.)
There was also a bit in the history and evolution of presses on steam powered factories that was similar to a bit on the steam utilising hotel on YLNT and my inner crazy wall is really a complex place but I think if I were ever trapped alone in a cell, I would be pretty okay in my head for a while. Not that such a situation is an active worry, but maybe it is a gentle undercurrent.
The fever did break last night but also the slide into health can be like tipping a vending machine, and I should have gone home earlier but I am mustering the energy to get to my car, and also the crazy-wall right around myĀ ethmoidal notch is always super stringy. Ā What if Iām a really super useless Manchurian candidate? Ā Can I wok this off? No, no, no. No, no, no. No. There should be an odd number. Probably.

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It's always Poolside in my head. (Framing could have been better, sure. But, there's always some kind of framing, and everybody brings what they bring to the stone soup of reality anyway, and also I am crumpled up and horizontacular on the couchmonster. I just enjoy the echoes of Scott Simpson suddenly playing in my head, and sharing a warm feeling sometimes yields a virtuous cascade of same.)
(132s)
āYou went from Southerner to Brooklyner to Mark Twain. Ā Everything is Mark Twain!ā
I wonder if it is some manner of self-protective measure that my memory is so ready to pivot based on a single word. Ā It is at the very least pretty entertaining.
A man of Andreās stature was always going to struggle in hotel bathrooms, particularly in Japan where everything is just that little bit smaller. Sometimes he would rip the bathroom door from its hinges and sit on the toilet sideways to give himself more legroom. Other times he wouldnāt even bother instead opting to use the bathtub, a much more agreeable option for such a giant of a human. Now imagine for just a moment that you were a cleaner in one of those Japanese hotels, and discovered the bathtub had been mistreated in such brazen fashion by a man capable of eating 15 steaks and chugging more than 100 beers in one sitting. Pretty gruesome stuff.
āAnybody wanna peanutā indeed.Ā [I am quietly crying trying to suppress my giggles in the lab.]