onomatopoeia

onomatopoeia http://www.onomatopoeia.org Hear that? Copyright 2001-2006 Matt Musselman Thu, 21 Aug 2008 18:40:23 +0000 matt@onomatopoeia.org matt@onomatopoeia.org Baggedhttp://www.onomatopoeia.org/index.php?type=day&item=2008-08-18 This morning, realizing I'd left the super-nifty wheat-free flax muffins my wife had got for me at home, I stopped by our local Choices market to grab something quick I could take with me, before I hopped on the SkyTrain downtown to my training course. I found some blueberry-lemon rice muffins, and took them to the cashier. As I was paying, she stuffed my single purchase all by itself into a big plastic bag. "No thanks," I said. "I don't need a bag." I gestured toward my backpack, and pulled the muffin package out of the plastic bag, handing the plastic bag back to her. The cashier tossed the unused bag directly into the garbage can at her feet, and snapped, "Next time, maybe you can tell me before I bag it." Next time, maybe I can assume you're not smart enough not to waste a bag on a single purchase, and not be surprised when you bag something so small, I thought to myself. Especially at a store which prides it self to such a degree on environmental responsibility. . . . <lj-cut> Of course, we never say these things out loud, but perhaps sometimes we should.</lj-cut> Mon, 18 Aug 2008 00:00:00 -0800 Mattstories: now Boozing it uphttp://www.onomatopoeia.org/index.php?type=day&item=2008-08-17 Mrs. ___, a resident at an elderly care home, sits partially paralysed in her wheelchair at a Friday Happy Hour event. Staff Member: Here you go Mrs. ___. There's your beer. I put a straw in it to make it easy to get to. All the rest of you okay? Others at Table: [nodding vaguely in assent] Staff Member: Great! Shout if you need anything. Mrs. ___'s Friend: You're so lucky. Mrs. ___: Hmmm? Mrs. ___'s Friend: The straw. They always said you get drunk a lot faster if you suck it through a straw. . . . Mrs. ___: [rapidly alternates drinking sips of beer and blowing bubbles through the straw into the glass, filling the glass up with beer bubbles] Staff Member: Everyone okay over here? <lj-cut> Mrs. ___: I don't know what's wrong. This beer is nothing but foam. Staff Member: Oh! They must have poured that one off the top? Let me get you a better one. [momentarily returns with a full glass of beer] Mrs. ___: Thank you. [resumes drinking the second beer through the straw] </lj-cut> Sun, 17 Aug 2008 00:00:00 -0800 Mattobserved Alphabet Metldownhttp://www.onomatopoeia.org/index.php?type=day&item=2008-08-12 This weekend, I embarked on a minor technology project: to move my music collection from my PC (which is rapidly becoming little more than a platform to run Quicken on) to the Mac Mini "entertainment centre" in our living room. Seemed like a worthwhile goal, with a lot of minor yet significant benefits. We usually listen to music in the living room, but with the library hosted remotely on the PC in the other room, playback could be flaky, and listening statistics weren't reflected in the library. Also, moving the music to the mac had the side benefit of letting me reformat my iPod to mac, so I could transfer songs from my iBook as well (a nice thing, for music acquired on trips, etc). I even had a master plan: Several months back I had acquired an external drive enclosure which exactly matched the dimensions and look and feel of the Mac Mini, and stacked perfectly on top of it. I'd plug the enclosure into the PC, copy the library files, and then reconnect it back to it's permanent home on the Mini. <lj-cut> What could go wrong? Turns out alot, if said enclosure is almost entirely made of plastic, with no heat sink or cooling fan, in the summer, as the drive is slaving away nonstop trying to sync about 80GB of music to the iPod. That's right, total meltdown. Oh, the physical enclosure itself is fine, but the drive failed entirely (not even showing up as a USB device anymore), and it was too hot to touch for quite some time after the failure. The main thing we lost were some episodes of jPod and Supernatural, and a completely replaceable copy of the music library from upstairs. The drive itself only cost me about $70 from an independent computer repair shop, so that's not too bad. It's just a pain. And the other side effect? My iPod has this surreal collection consisting only of artists with names from A to D. It's as if I'd subscribed to one of those encyclopedia-by-the-month or animal collecting card deals from TV from the early 80s, and quit at D. Random shuffle so far while I work: <li class="bullet">The Album Leaf – The Sailor </li> <li class="bullet">Bonobo – Flutter </li> <li class="bullet">Cracker – I Want Everything </li> <li class="bullet">Death Cab for Cutie – A Lack of Color </li> Chances of an exclusively A-D collection shuffling exactly to songs by A, B, C, then D? 1 in 256. I think that only added to the weirdness of the whole thing. (Incidentally, songs 5 and 6 were Bea's "#5705" and Donovan's "Mellow Yellow", so the pattern ended after the first four.)</lj-cut> Tue, 12 Aug 2008 00:00:00 -0800 Mattstories: now Creating a Monsterhttp://www.onomatopoeia.org/index.php?type=day&item=2008-08-05 Saturday night, my father-in-law and sister-in-law came over to watch movies with us and some friends. They arrived a bit earlier than anyone else, so before long, the inevitable phrase was spoken, "Hey, show Dad the Wii Boxing!" About two and a half hours and many boxing matches and bowling games later, we finally managed to switch the TV's input over to DVD Player so we could watch the movie, 3:10 to Yuma (which won out over Fistful of Dollars by popular vote, since nobody had seen it yet). The movie captured everyone's rapt attention, but out of the corner of my eye, despite my father-in-law's keen interest in the film, I would swear I noticed the Wii-inspired twitching of his fingers. "As much as he's liking this movie," I thought, "his subconscious mind is dying to finish that bowling game, I think." The movie ended, and after the standard ten minutes of post-movie discussion (What did the ending mean? Do you think that's believable? And so on....), the question came. "For this Wii thing. Can you also get that guitar game? Hm, okay. Is it true some pubs have that where you can play it? [to my sister-in-law] Want to stop by the pub on the way home? No? I can drop you off first then...." <lj-cut> I don't think they went to the pub after all. But at 11:30am the next morning, as I sat down to dimsum brunch with the family, my father-in-law tucked a folded slip of paper into my hand. I looked at him questioningly, and then unfolded it. A Future Shop receipt. For a Nintendo Wii. And an extra controller. And extra nunchuk controller. And Rock Band Wii. "Why spend ninety-nine dollars only on the guitar, when you can have the whole band for less than two hundred?" he chimed in, with a huge smile. I couldn't argue with that. Towards the end of the meal, he asked, ominously, "What plans do you guys have for the afternoon?" "Hm, not much, really. Why?" "I need to try the Rock Band out and make sure it works. You want to?" * * * . . . Which brings us to today. I have a painful plastic-guitar-induced blister on the side of my thumb. My arms, shoulders, and right thigh are so sore from four hours of uninterrupted drumming that I can barely walk straight. In my head I hear echoes of him insisting, "No break! We've nearly got this song down! Tell it to retry! Same song! I have to beat 95%! Retry!" I think I'm happy about this. I think I think it's really cool. But next time I'm bringing a back brace and some gloves. I'm getting too old for this kind of thing....</lj-cut> Tue, 05 Aug 2008 00:00:00 -0800 Mattstories: now Breakfast Scorehttp://www.onomatopoeia.org/index.php?type=day&item=2008-07-25 This wheat allergy thing isn't all bad, you know. This morning I arrived at the office to find myself famished, so I took advantage of the hot breakfast counter at the building cafe. It can get tricky, in this day of combos and specials, where there are specific foods you're trying to avoid. Especially in the fast food world, I've encountered a couple of times where I've asked if I could have only the entree without the drink, or only the meat/vegetable without the bread, and received blank stares. "It just comes that way. I can't change it," has become one of the more infuriating phrases I run across during mealtimes. So this morning, I had the choice of a bunch of a la care breakfast items (eggs, sausage, bacon, hash browns, etc) at more or less $1 apiece, or a egg+bacon/sausage+hashbrown+toast breakfast special for $4.25. To order 3 or 4 items a la carte and risk getting it all messed up? Or to order the breakfast special without toast and risk getting the toast anyway, and paying $0.20 or so more than I would have paid separately? <lj-cut> For the sake of quick, easy ordering, I opted for the breakfast special route, with no toast. "No toast?!?" "No, thank you." "Not even brown bread?" (whole wheat, for those of you south of the 49th) "No." "Or sourdough?" "No, thanks. No toast, please." A few minutes later, she had the breakfast assembled, and announced, "You know, I feel bad, you ordering the special, but missing out on the toast." (Apparently toast is a significant joy of life to her — life's little pleasures, I suppose.) "So, how about if I give you some extra sausage instead." Immediately I'm thinking, toast on the a la carte menu, $0.60 a piece, or thereabouts, and sausage, $1.05 per link. "Uh, sure." After which, she started piling on the bacon and sausage, with the result of giving me about 4x the "one piece of bacon or sausage" which I would have wound up with if we'd stuck to the menu letter by letter. I thanked her again, and walked to the cash register, thinking, nice, that's going to be a big, filling breakfast for only $4.25. "Breakfast special? That'll be $3.25 please." Maybe this is breakfast karma.</lj-cut> Fri, 25 Jul 2008 00:00:00 -0800 Mattday to day It had to happen somedayhttp://www.onomatopoeia.org/index.php?type=day&item=2008-07-22 From <a href="http://www.yourdictionary.com/">yourdictionary.com</a>. Word of the Day onomatopoeia Part of Speech: noun Pronunciation: [ah-nê-mæ-tê-'pee-yê] Definition: The reference of a word to a sound resembling the pronunciation of the word itself, e.g. "whizz," "thud," "thump," "hiss," "moo," "quack," "hoot," "howl," "whack." Usage: Seemingly all languages have onomatopoeic words for the noises that animals make but we do not always agree on the sounds we hear. For example, the sound of a rooster crowing in English is "cock-a-doodle-doo," in French "cocorico," in Spanish "kikiriki," in Russian "kukareku," in Korean "kokiyo," in Japanese "kokekokkoo," in Mandarin (Chinese) "'o'o'o," and in Thai "ake-e-ake-ake." The sound of a dog is reported as "bup-bup" in Catalan, "wang-wang" in Mandarin (Chinese), "vov-vov" in Danish, "woef" in Dutch, "bow-wow," "woof," or "arf" in English, "ouah-ouah" in French, "bhõ-bhõ" in Hindi, "gong-gong" in Indonesian, and "hoang-hoang" in Thai. <lj-cut></lj-cut> Tue, 22 Jul 2008 00:00:00 -0800 Mattmetablogging Exeunthttp://www.onomatopoeia.org/index.php?type=day&item=2008-06-08 When I was young, in the autumn, my parents often took me to university football games. One thing which bothered me intensely as a child was when if, after the beginning of the 4th quarter or so, either team was winning by a large margin, the spectators would begin filing out of the stadium in droves. Young Matt: Why are all the people leaving? Young Matt's Parents: They want to get out of here before the traffic gets too bad. Young Matt: But the game's not over yet. Young Matt's Parents: Well, they pretty much know how things are going to end, so I guess getting home quickly is more of a priority for them. Young Matt: But doesn't it hurt the players' feelings? It seemed really odd to me, after a person had spent all that time dressing up in their team spirit clothes and driving to the stadium and waiting to get in line and paying for a ticket, that that extra 15 minutes was really all that crucial. <lj-cut> For a lot of my life the phenomenon was mostly limited to athletic events, so at least I didn't worry about it too much. But lately, things seem to have taken a sinister turn. For a number of reasons I won't go into, I watched the new Indiana Jones movie for the second time this afternoon. Nutshell review: pretty decent movie — not as good as the first and third, but compares favourably with Temple of Doom — you get the idea. And both times, starting about 15 minutes before the movie actually ended, various people started getting up from their seats and leaving the theatre. I'm not talking about going to the washroom late in the movie because they just couldn't hold it anymore — I'm saying picked up jackets, purses, and everything and left the theatre as a couple or whole family, never to return, and blocking the view of the final scene or two for everyone sitting behind them. Seriously, at the highway robbery prices you have to pay for a movie ticket these days, doesn't it make sense to stay that extra 5 or 10 minutes to at least see how the movie ended? In my more film-snobby days, I used to be disdainful of people who ran out as soon as the credits started, but that was nothing in retrospect. And if you thought it couldn't get much worse than that: two weeks ago we went to the Arts Club Theatre's live performance of "The Producers," a fantastic performance, and I was utterly appalled to see people . . . you guessed it . . . as soon as the musical finale started up, they were gathering up their things and walking out of the theatre. And not just one or two people — a total of probably 20 people by the time the cast took their final bow. Seriously. My first thought was, "you'd have thought it was a hockey game or something," but not even hockey players deserve that, really, and in such a small venue, where you could see the performers' heads turn to watch people walking up the aisles? I couldn't believe it. At risk of sounding like my parents, I just don't know what the world is coming to. </lj-cut> Sun, 08 Jun 2008 00:00:00 -0800 Mattday to day Don't leave any change visiblehttp://www.onomatopoeia.org/index.php?type=day&item=2008-05-09 Today was a drive-to-work day. 7am meetings will do that to you. 7am meetings will also make you so spacey and tired (apparently) that you leave the sunroof of your car open all day long while you're in the office. Upon returning to my car in the afternoon and seeing the open sunroof, I kind of freaked out. "Oh my god, did it rain today?" No. "Somebody totally could have taken something. Is anything missing?" No. "Is anything messed up in general?" A couple of seconds' cursory glancing around the car showed that yes, indeed, something was awry: a bright shiny toonie lay right in the middle of the passenger seat, where someone had apparently flipped it through the sunroof into the car. Fri, 09 May 2008 00:00:00 -0800 Mattday to day Song in the Headhttp://www.onomatopoeia.org/index.php?type=day&item=2008-05-05 I feel like I almost need a category of its own for Song-in-the-Head issues. The newest I just recognized today is sort of a sneaky one: At work this morning I was approaching the elevators to go up to my desk, and caught myself singing Alphaville's "Red Rose." "So what," you might be saying. The odd thing was, this wasn't the first time. I recalled having been humming the same song on Friday morning. And possibly on at least one other morning before that. The sense of deja vu was too strong to dismiss. And of all songs to get in my head? "Red Rose" was a minor hit, at best, never even placing on the charts (unlike "Forever Young," "Big in Japan," and "Dance with Me," their other well known singles of the same era which had topped the charts in various countries). Most people in the US and Canada can't even recall ever having heard the song — it's one of those 80s songs that wasn't played much outside of Europe in the first place, and never entered the canon of music featured on "retro" sort of radio programs and "retro nights" and clubs. <lj-cut> It was when I went downstairs mid-morning for another cup of tea that suddenly it all made sense. I showed my tea to the cashier. "A dollar fifteen, for Red Rose tea," she said. And up popped the song right on cue. Now my concern is how to banish the association, because, despite the fact that Alphaville is better than other song possibilities (I shudder to think of Bette Midler accompanying my breakfast routine), I'd really prefer not to have a tea-buying soundtrack at all. I may have to fall back on "The Girl from Ipanema" cure<super>*</super>. <super>*</super>Around 2001 or so, there was a soundbite on the NPR morning show where a commentator gave a monologue which went roughly like this: <blockquote>For all those times you have a song hopelessly stuck in your head, and nothing else seems to work, I've found a cure. The secret is to hum the tune of "The Girl from Ipanema." It's important, however, that you only hum the melody of "The Girl from Ipanema," because if you actually sing the lyrics, then you'll have "The Girl from Ipanema" itself stuck in your head, and, regretably, there's no known cure for that.</blockquote> A fair amount of Google searching reveals that dozens of bloggers know and love that same story, but the original source seems to have fallen into oblivion. Ironically, someone even recalled this story as advice in a comment to one of the writers on the <a href="http://www.google.ca/url?sa=t&ct=res&cd=8&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.npr.org%2Fblogs%2Fmonitormix%2F2007%2F11%2Ftiny_giants.html&ei=h1AfSPv3BJfWgQOC8J2uDQ&usg=AFQjCNFYOFGJ3mCAQohgVJ07kGZnvMD6aQ&sig2=fWshwIDJ3keMhXY57aRbYw">NPR website</a> in 2007.</lj-cut> Mon, 05 May 2008 00:00:00 -0800 Mattday to day Aversion Warning: May be nuttyhttp://www.onomatopoeia.org/index.php?type=day&item=2008-05-03 "This conditioner really works great on my hair. What is it?" I remember asking around a year ago, after a shampoo and haircut at a place I didn't usually go to. The question led to my buying a bottle each of the shampoo and conditioner from the salon, most likely for some ungodly amount of cash, but I can't remember that part so it can't have been too terrible. It all seemed well and good until the first time I used it in the confines of my own bathroom, when I realized to my own abject horror that the thick humid shower air immediately became heavy with the scent of . . . bananas. And how I hate bananas. Oh God, I truly revile and despise bananas. It was all I could do to keep my dinner down from the night before. And not just any bananas: this was the saccharine sweet odour of artificial bananas. The banana of bad childhood bubble gum and cheap knock-off banana flavoured ice cream. The banana of dental tooth polish and tacky car scent. <lj-cut> How could I have not known this before buying the stuff? It's taken me a year (what with alternating it with many bottles of the pleasantly sandalwood-scented Neutrogena), and I've finally used up all the shampoo, but the conditioner still has what, by weight, seemed only one last miserable dosage . . . for going on about 6 showers worth now. It's the conditioner hell that just won't end. And although you may be laughing, I have to tell you this isn't all. There's a brand of L'Oreal hair gel (the Melting Gel, or more cake-icing-oriented French name "Gel Fondant") which I've used for a couple of years now to prevent the 2 o'clock Matt-fro which seems to happen especially in humid weather if I don't have some kind of fixative in my hair, and, honestly, I can't even say what it used to smell like. Until the last innocent-looking tube I purchased at what I thought was my friendly neighbourhood Shoppers Drug Mart. No indication on the package that it was new and/or improved, or included an Exciting New Scent (TM), but the first time I opened that new package . . . you guessed it . . . Hubba-Bubba banana flavour all over my head. My sense of brand loyalty, or at least whatever you call it when you find something that really works and you're too damn lazy to explore alternatives, has kept me from switching to something else quite yet, but the conditioner and hair gel have conspired to ensure that I haven't had any breakfast appetite for going on a month now. You know, products these days have all kinds of warning labels: allergy warnings for peanuts and nuts and wheat and soy and dairy and shellfish, indications of whether animal testing was involved, certifications of all-natural or organic backgrounds — but it doesn't seem like too much to ask to request a scent-aversion warning does it? "Warning: this product contains a banana fragrance often associated with the only fruit you may have been fed during a serious gastrointestinal disorder early in your life and subsequently have a severe aversion to, and/or odour of the sticky unwashed fingers of a two year old with a mouthful of Blastin' Banana Bubblicious gum, and may result in loss of appetite, nausea, and faltering of will to live." Seems reasonable to me.</lj-cut> Sat, 03 May 2008 00:00:00 -0800 Mattstories: now, humour Feeling Taxedhttp://www.onomatopoeia.org/index.php?type=day&item=2008-04-13 This weekend has been tax calculation weekend for me — the latest I can ever remember having waited to do them. Part of the problem was that this year, half the slips I needed never seemed to show up. And to complicate things further, it's not exactly clear for an American living in Canada having to file his US tax return how he's supposed to account for his Canadian and entirely non-American wife on his return. Were I to have a dialogue with the return (hypothetically, of course — not fully admitting that I actually talk to these things, although it's a possibility), it would go something like this: US Tax Return: Hey, Matt, next question. Are you still single like last year? Matt: No, I got married last year. US Tax Return: Oh, cool. Congratulations. What's your new wife's full name? Matt: [whispers it to the tax thing so the entire internet doesn't hear] <lj-cut> US Tax Return: Great. What's her address? Matt: Um, she lives with me. Hello? US Tax Return: Take it easy. I've got to ask these things. What's her phone number? Matt: Same as my phone number. Jeez. US Tax Return: Okay, okay. What's her Social Security Number. Matt: . . . US Tax Return: Please? Matt: Can I just say "(CANADIAN)"? US Tax Return: I'm sorry, that's not a valid 10 digit number, Matt: Do you want my effing taxes or not?!?!? I don't even live there anymore, and my wife has certainly never lived there. Ever. No SSN. No US address. Her identity is barely your business. Got it? US Tax Return: Alright, alright. "(CANADIAN)" it is, then. Fine. Happy? Matt: Thank you. So I got that all settled out, along with some other issues about whether I could claim my house on my US taxes and that sort of thing, and finished it up. Despite the fact that the current exchange rate does very very bad things to the IRS's perception of the taxable value of my Canadian income (you know, really, their foreign resident exemption limit should somehow increase when the exchange rate does, too, but I guess that would be a pain to calculate) I got off still owing very little down south. As it should be. Upon reaching the end of my returns (plural, because I typically do the US and Canadian ones in parallel, because I make less mistakes that way on claiming all the stuff I should, and it's easier to enter foreign income, foreign tax paid, etc, when I can go back and forth between them), I was suddenly rudely reminded why Canada is often such a nicer place to be (notwithstanding the fact that the Canadian return is about half as hard to fill out in general): Canada Tax Return: Okay, Matt, now we're to the point where you tell me whether you'd like to file by mail, or over the internet via eFile. Matt: What's the story each way? Canada Tax Return: Well, by mail is just the same old thing, of course, but if you eFile, we'll give you a $10 eco-rebate. Killing less trees, burning less fuel to transport your return and so on. How's that sound? Matt: Not bad. US return, what have you got for me? US Tax Return: Oh same choices, pretty much. File by mail, or file by eFile for a $15 convenience fee. Matt: So the eFile is . . . wait, what? You're charging me to eFile? US Tax Return: That's right. Got a problem with it? So, you got it right folks. In Canada, electronic filing is considered socially and environmentally responsible. In the US, it's considered damn lazy, and they charge you for it. "But what's that matter when you're paying twice as much tax in Canada as you do in the US?" you might ask. Well, that's the other thing. Hey. Yeah you. All you potential US voters who've been convinced by the Republican Party this is why Canadian healthcare, social welfare programs, transit, and all-around social niceties give you intolerable taxes? Listen up. This is important. Okay. My federal tax bracket the last year I was living in the US: 28% My federal tax bracket in Canada (even when making almost 20% higher pay by now, by the way, with some pay raises and the shift in exchange rate): 24% "Sure, sure, but what about the Canadian GST? That's a bitch, right?" Currently 5%. Used to be a little higher, but we're talking the present. So even if you assumed that every single last dollar I earned was spent on consumer goods (no savings whatsoever), and GST taxable goods at that, that would put my current rate at 29% Canadian federal tax vs. 28% US federal tax. It's really pretty amazing when you think about how much more I'm getting for my money. Free health care. Lower crime. Cleaner air. Better transportation. Better public programs (I love my CBC). For maybe 1% difference<super>*</super>. I don't think most Canadians even realize this (most of them never have any more chance to compare the two countries side by side than Americans do). So yeah. Pretty cool, eh? * Before you get all quibbly with me about the fact that provincial taxes here are a bit higher than many US states' state taxes, and that cost of living is a little higher in Canada, and that Canada has less tax deductions on some important things like mortgages, yes, I'm aware of these things, and they can bump the final tax bill around a little, but even considering the worst possible combinations of those extra considerations which a single person might have, it's a far cry from "double the taxes" which so many Americans seem to spout out at me. That's all. </lj-cut> Sun, 13 Apr 2008 00:00:00 -0800 Mattday to day,O Canada aka yoroshihttp://www.onomatopoeia.org/index.php?type=day&item=2008-03-24 It started innocently enough — an art project between me and the wife to create collage versions of images from the Japanese Hanafuda playing card deck to hang in our living room. She had acquired the cards while in Asia, and on more than one occasion we've taught ourselves how to play the game, and subsequently forgotten it again. Either way, it looked to be a fun little project, and the resulting finished product would serve as a nice representation of several of our interests (Asian stuff, gaming, etc). We each had an IKEA three-part Ribba frame, in which to represent three cards side by side. The cards I chose (both for their imagery and their simplicity of collaging) were the following: <img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2228/2359332919_645c24e2ed_m.jpg" style="float:left"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mussels/2359777278/" title="Hanafuda - Moon by Mussels, on Flickr" style="float:left"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3255/2359777278_c12b0b475b_m.jpg" width="169" height="240" alt="Hanafuda - Moon" border="0"/></a> The 20 point card of the Susuki (Pampas Grass) suit, showing a full moon over the grass. <lj-cut> <div style="clear:both"></div> <img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2303/2359332799_9a479fe923_m.jpg" style="float:left"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mussels/2358942203/" title="Hanafuda - Birds by Mussels, on Flickr" style="float:left"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2022/2358942203_bb0bb56f69_m.jpg" width="169" height="240" alt="Hanafuda - Birds" border="0"/></a> The 10 point card of the Susuki suit, showing a trio of geese flying over the grass. <div style="clear:both"></div> <img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3287/2359332883_5eae4772b3_m.jpg" style="float:left"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mussels/2358943053/" title="Hanafuda - Pine Banner by Mussels, on Flickr" style="float:left"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2342/2358943053_292e24ec92_m.jpg" width="169" height="240" alt="Hanafuda - Pine Banner" border="0" /></a> And the kicker, the 5 point ribbon card of the Matsu (Pine) suit, showing a poetry ribbon fluttering amongst the pine trees. <div style="clear:both"></div> Where the issue came in was on that last one, because from an execution perspective it was the hardest one to get just right (the birds on the other one turned out to be quite a bit easier, ironically), and secondly, because, well, I don't speak Japanese. The issue there is that I had no idea what the real card says, and having limited resources in terms of paper to work with for a collage, sort of went with the one that was vaguely the right colour and had similar script on it — meaning I also had no idea what my collage version of the card says, with a potential that it parroted some completely random phrase. You might think I would have researched all this before I glued it all together, but that would have been altogether too intelligent. So, once the thing was already hanging on the wall, I decided to copy down the hiragana from the collage version and look it up online. You also might think this would be relatively easy, but not so much for a Japanese-challenged individual like myself, and after a fair bit of decoding, I finally determined that おひなさま transliterates to "ohinosama," which is a type of traditional doll, for which the paper was presumably a wrapping. At this point I felt pretty lucky — of all the products this paper could have been the wrapper for, it turned out to be something pretty nice, and fairly connotation-neutral at that (sure, the dolls are often used to capture the evil spirits away from young girls, but I'm willing to let that pass). Of course, this little bit of research made me wonder what the original banner on the card itself says, and that — the part you'd think would be really easy, since these cards are used by millions of people and all have more or less the same traditional design — turned out to be the hardest part. Because, you see, it seems no one can really agree on what that damn ribbon says at all. My wife had originally told me that the ribbon contained "just good luck phrases in general, but I have no idea what it actually is." People generally agree that it's あ [something] よろし ("a [something] yoroshi"), and many people agree there's an "aka" in there somewhere, but is that "aka yoroshi" or "aka no yoroshi?" The problem seems to stem from the extra little squiggle just under the あ, and its proximity to the の. Internet School of Thought A says the squiggle is nothing, thus giving "ano yoroshi." Internet School of Thought B says that in Japanese calligraphy, a あ with an extra squiggle on the bottom is shorthand for "aka", thus the whole thing is "aka no yoroshi." And Internet School of Thought C says that in Japanese calligraphy, a の-looking character with that squiggle just over it is not Hiragana at all, but actually the Kanji character 可 which was sometimes used in the past phonetically to signify "ka," hence "aka yoroshi." So at the end of it all, what does this all mean? Version B and Version C mean almost exactly the same thing ("no" is a particle in Japanese used between words when the first modifies or describes the second), and the definition is roughly "red good" or "red alright." The speculation is that it's "red" because the ribbon is red, sort of, and "alright" because the ribbon card is worth 5 points, which is not bad, but not the best either. So, um, sure. And speaking of "um, sure," that brings us to the other version, and is literally more or less what Version A means: "Um, alright." That's it. I'm not making this up, I promise. Real poetry on that pine tree poetry ribbon. . . . So, at any rate, I learned a little Japanese through all this, I'm pretty sure I'm not going to offend anyone with my artwork, and most importantly I really don't feel too bad about my bastardized "doll" version of the card anymore, because, a little random or no, people can at least agree upon what it says. </lj-cut> Mon, 24 Mar 2008 00:00:00 -0800 Mattlanguage Pinchhttp://www.onomatopoeia.org/index.php?type=day&item=2008-03-17 Matt: Looks like you really got into the spirit of St. Patrick's Day. . . . Coworker: What do you mean? Matt: Your bright green shirt. Coworker: [looks down] Oh, that! Heh, that's actually a total coincidence. I'd completely forgotten what day it was. Matt: Well, at least you're prepared anyway? Coworker: Actually, my family's Irish Protestant, so if anything, I should have been wearing an orange shirt. Not green. Sometimes you can't win. . . . Mon, 17 Mar 2008 00:00:00 -0800 Mattdialogues Board Game Rounduphttp://www.onomatopoeia.org/index.php?type=day&item=2008-03-13 "So, Matt, what are you going to be addicted to next week?" my wife asks. Last week this was in reference to a bunch of episodes of <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0496343/">The Riches</a> we had downloaded. For several weeks before that it was the online <a href="http://www.phial.com/puerto-rico/">Puerto Rico game</a>. And before that it was <a href="http://www.popcap.com/games/free/zuma">Zuma</a>. I think. Oh, and <a href="http://www.travian.com/">Travian</a>. It all gets hazy around that time. But this week, she's referring to <a href="http://www.brettspielwelt.de/?nation=en">BrettSpielWelt</a>, and, specifically, playing <a href="http://www.boardgamegeek.com/game/18602">Caylus</a> on BrettSpielWelt. I think our foray into European style boardgames started about two years ago, when a friend recommended that we try <a href="http://www.boardgamegeek.com/game/822">Carcassonne</a>. We picked it up at a comic book store one day, and several dozen plays and no social life later, we realized that board games were a great fit for us as a hobby. They're a great way to spend time together and with friends, are far more intellectually stimulating than television (except for The Riches, of course), and who can argue with boxes that come packed full of little wooden people and coloured cubes? <lj-cut> Our game collection rapidly grew after testing the water with Carcassonne: <li class="bullet"><a href="http://www.boardgamegeek.com/game/12002">Jambo</a> — another obsession: I can't count how many times we played that one. Ironically, when we first learned it we got one of the card drawing rules wrong, but when we finally figured it out and tried it the right way, it was less fun than our accidental way. So we play it wrong on purpose now.</li> <li class="bullet"><a href="http://www.boardgamegeek.com/game/7804">Dracula</a> — fun, with cute little Dracula and Van Helsing wooden meeple, but not all that addictive.</li> <li class="bullet">About a billion expansions to Carcassonne</li> <li class="bullet"><a href="http://www.boardgamegeek.com/game/14996">Ticket to Ride: Europe</a> — another addiction, and probably our favourite game to teach to non-board-gamers because it's attractive, fairly easy, and doesn't create as much of a gap between the experienced players and non-experienced players as some games do.</li> <li class="bullet"><a href="http://www.boardgamegeek.com/game/2471">Zombies</a> — funny, but not too engaging from a gameplay perspective.</li> <li class="bullet"><a href="http://www.boardgamegeek.com/game/19048">The Nacho Incident</a> — not a bad game. I love the theme of smuggling Mexican food into Canada because, well, I've actually done that in real life a few times.</li> <li class="bullet"><a href="http://www.boardgamegeek.com/game/638">Hera and Zeus</a> — for some reason we've only played this one once. We keep saying, "You know, one day we should try Hera and Zeus again. But we don't.</li> <li class="bullet"><a href="http://www.boardgamegeek.com/game/12194">Munchkin Bites</a> — the vampire/werewolf/mummy variant of Munchkin. Entertaining, but unfortunately not a very well-balanced game, and loses its replay value after a while.</li> <li class="bullet"><a href="http://www.boardgamegeek.com/game/21790">Thurn und Taxis</a> — game of the year in 2006, and another one we were hooked on for a while.</li> <li class="bullet"><a href="http://www.boardgamegeek.com/game/6249">Alhambra</a> — game of the year from back in 2003. We didn't play this one much when we first bought it, but it has really grown on us. Unlike some games we don't get too rusty on the rules, and it's fun to pick back up again.</li> <li class="bullet"><a href="http://www.boardgamegeek.com/game/278">Settlers of Catan Card Game</a> — We've played the full Settlers of Catan game with various friends fairly often, but tend to steer clear of buying games which don't play with only 2 players. The card game version is a nice compromise, and we had quite the grudge match going for a while. Only downside is that a string of bad dice rolls or card draws can really turn the tide of the game.</li> <li class="bullet"><a href="http://www.boardgamegeek.com/game/11">Bohnanza</a> — a fun one to teach to friends. Once people get past the initial confusion, they seem to learn it really fast and catch onto the strategy well.</li> <li class="bullet"><a href="http://www.boardgamegeek.com/game/27172">Ponte del Diavolo</a> — a very beautiful and quick little abstract strategy game. About Venice. How could you go wrong, unless you ask it to make you food.</li> <li class="bullet"><a href="http://www.boardgamegeek.com/game/30746">Ticket to Ride: Switzerland</a> — a nice alternate gameboard which is great for 2-3 players.</li> <li class="bullet"><a href="http://www.boardgamegeek.com/game/21763">Mr. Jack</a> — I'd read somewhere that it was one of the very best specifically two player games. We've played it a few times, but never quite reached that, "I demand a rematch" stage.</li> <li class="bullet"><a href="http://www.boardgamegeek.com/game/2651">Power Grid</a> — ranked #2 on Board Game Geek, and deservedly. Not too difficult to teach to newbies, either, especially for a more heavyweight strategy game. We've also played <a href="http://www.boardgamegeek.com/game/3076">Puerto Rico</a> quite a bit lately (the perennial #1 Board Game Geek game), both with friends and online, but don't actually own it, so it doesn't get a bullet of its own.</li> And most recently, <li class="bullet"><a href="http://www.boardgamegeek.com/game/18602">Caylus</a> — it had been recommended to me several times, and I just couldn't get past the notoriously disturbing cover art and lacklustre back-of-box description. But oh, what I had been missing.</li> First off, a medium-heavyweight strategy game that plays well with anywhere from 2 – 5 players, which was a great start, but for me, it builds upon everything that I like about Puerto Rico (careful choice of actions each turn, high level of cause/effect between player activities, heavily resource driven game), but with a little less of a cyclic feel, and a lot more suspense. There've been far too many times when I was jumping up and down in my seat shouting, "Don't move the provost! Don't move the provost! Aw, crap, he moved the provost. . . ." (and those of you who know me in person know how uncharacteristic that seems in general), or the adrenaline rush which came from the realization of a perfectly lined up series of actions spoiled by underallocating my available money by only one, but which made the whole house of cards tumble down. In Puerto Rico there are those times when you come up one doubloon short of buying the building you wanted when the builder comes up, and you kind of grit your teeth, but you can ultimately recover from it. But in Caylus, one particularly poorly spent turn can cost you the entire game, and not just by a little bit, but by dozens of points at the end. And that seems to be the factor that makes people either love or hate it: it's an utterly brutal game. Experienced players don't just beat beginners, but stomp them into the ground with up to double the amount of points. Even tiny mistakes can cost a person dearly, and since many of the buildings and actions are unique and have no equivalent substitute, coming up with Plan B when things don't go your way makes up about half the game. But for gluttons for punishment like myself, that makes me want to finally win all the more. I'd declared it my favourite board game of all time about the time my win-loss record hit about 0-6. And not just second place — I had been in dead last every single game I had played. But I loved every minute of that pain. I still like Puerto Rico — it and Power Grid are more or less tied for 2nd place in my book. And for playing with less serious gamers, Ticket to Ride, Carcassonne, Settlers of Catan, Bohnanza, and Alhambra will always have a place on the bookshelf. But Caylus has been like finding my spouse in the board game world. So if any of you would like the opportunity to put me back in dead last again in a Caylus match (or any of the others, for that matter, though I can't guarantee the losing quite as reliably), I'd love to let you.</lj-cut> Thu, 13 Mar 2008 00:00:00 -0800 Mattmedia ESL...-E-A-Z-Ehttp://www.onomatopoeia.org/index.php?type=day&item=2008-03-11a While at a coffee shop today, I observed what was probably the world's creepiest ESL teacher, a single man in his 40s having an "educational" conversation with two Japanese ESL students in their late teens. ESL Teacher: Do you want anything to eat? Either of you? Japanese ESL Student Girls: [inaudible] ESL Teacher: Oh you're on a diet? How about you? Are you on a diet too? ESL Teacher: You want to lose weight? . . . Not lose my weight. "I want to lose weight." ESL Teacher: That's right. How many pounds? ESL Teacher: Oh, you only know kilograms. How many kilograms do you want to lose? ESL Teacher: And what about you? How many kilograms do you want to lose? ESL Teacher: How many have you lost so far? And you? <lj-cut> ESL Teacher: You look good. Both of you look good. . . . ESL Teacher: You found your apartment on the internet? On Craigslist? Craig. C-R-A-I-G. List. Japanese ESL Student Girls: [attempt to look up Craigslist in their electronic translator] ESL Teacher: That's how I found my new house. Did I tell you? I'm buying a new condominium. ESL Teacher: Yes, so when you come back from Japan later this year, if you have me as your ESL teacher again, you have a free place to stay. ESL Teacher: That's right, no rent. ESL Teacher: No, there's room for both of you. It's a two bedroom. Yes, two bedrooms. You can both stay. ESL Teacher: And we can practice your English all day long. ESL Teacher: So let me know when you're coming back. Right? I'm sure all of this wasn't actually as bad as it sounded. Right? Right?</lj-cut> Tue, 11 Mar 2008 00:00:00 -0800 Mattobserved