The mnemonic for a Quebec and au Quebec:
Au contains a
The province of Quebec contains Quebec City
Therefore, au Quebec is the province, and a Quebec is the city.
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
Tuesday, October 26, 2004
Monday, October 25, 2004
Suppose you had a piece of toilet paper that didn't have waste matter on it,
but needed to be disposed of. Maybe you'd used it to blow your nose or wipe
up some stray water droplets. Would it be better for the environment to put
it in the toilet (and not flush the toilet until the next time you needed to
flush), or to put it in the garbage?
but needed to be disposed of. Maybe you'd used it to blow your nose or wipe
up some stray water droplets. Would it be better for the environment to put
it in the toilet (and not flush the toilet until the next time you needed to
flush), or to put it in the garbage?
Sunday, October 24, 2004
Wondrous Strange: The Life and Art of Glenn Gould by Kevin Bazzana
This is a very long, detailed biography of Glenn Gould. I've never been a huge Gould fan - I have some of his recordings in my MP3 player, but I'm too young to really know why he's a phenomenon - but this book was still very interesting to me. It describes his childhood, the development of his career as a concert pianist and recording artist and his later ventures into various media, as well as his lifestyle, interpersonal relationships, health problems, and numerous eccentricities.
It was fascinating to read about why exactly Gould was a shock to the classical music establishment, although it sounds kind of funny on paper from a 21st century mindset (he changed tempos! **gasp!**). What was particularly cool for me was to see connections between Glenn Gould's world and my own world. I have some of the same eccentricities as he does so I could see where he was coming from, and most of the Toronto geography in the book deals with places I've been to at one time or another. Turns out I've passed his apartment several times! It was also interesting to read about his other projects in addition to classical music, the most interesting of which is the whole concept of contrapuntal radio.
The only potential problem with this book is that the author writes as if you know what he's talking about. He uses French-language quotations without providing translations, name-drops Toronto streets without providing a map, and assumes the reader knows such music theory and history concepts as the difference between Baroque and Romantic, twelve-tone harmony, and fugue and counterpoint. This did not present a problem for me, but it might present a problem for a reader who isn't already familiar with these things.
This is a very long, detailed biography of Glenn Gould. I've never been a huge Gould fan - I have some of his recordings in my MP3 player, but I'm too young to really know why he's a phenomenon - but this book was still very interesting to me. It describes his childhood, the development of his career as a concert pianist and recording artist and his later ventures into various media, as well as his lifestyle, interpersonal relationships, health problems, and numerous eccentricities.
It was fascinating to read about why exactly Gould was a shock to the classical music establishment, although it sounds kind of funny on paper from a 21st century mindset (he changed tempos! **gasp!**). What was particularly cool for me was to see connections between Glenn Gould's world and my own world. I have some of the same eccentricities as he does so I could see where he was coming from, and most of the Toronto geography in the book deals with places I've been to at one time or another. Turns out I've passed his apartment several times! It was also interesting to read about his other projects in addition to classical music, the most interesting of which is the whole concept of contrapuntal radio.
The only potential problem with this book is that the author writes as if you know what he's talking about. He uses French-language quotations without providing translations, name-drops Toronto streets without providing a map, and assumes the reader knows such music theory and history concepts as the difference between Baroque and Romantic, twelve-tone harmony, and fugue and counterpoint. This did not present a problem for me, but it might present a problem for a reader who isn't already familiar with these things.
I look in the mirror, and I notice that there is enough extra room in the
back of my jeans that an onlooker can no longer tell precisely where, how,
and at what sort of curve or angle my buttocks merge with my thighs.
Last April these jeans were so tight that I couldn't sit in them
comfortably.
I feel accomplished.
back of my jeans that an onlooker can no longer tell precisely where, how,
and at what sort of curve or angle my buttocks merge with my thighs.
Last April these jeans were so tight that I couldn't sit in them
comfortably.
I feel accomplished.
The one thing I understand least about anti-bilingualism is the people who say that requiring bilingualism for certain government jobs is discrimination against people who don't come from bilingual cultural backgrounds. I know that language is closely associated with culture and one's cultural background has a definite influence on one's first language, but the way some people are making a fuss you'd think that it is humanly impossible to learn a language. I wonder why they don't view it as just another skill to be learned in the classroom?
Saturday, October 23, 2004
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
THEORY:
There seems to be a sort of archetype/cultural construct that your teen
years are supposed to be "the best years of your life", and they're just
full of non-stop fun.
However, in real life, I've never heard of anyone who thought their teen
years were their best years of their life. Everyone I've discussed this
topic with seems to agree that their teen years ranged from purgatory to
hell, and the freedom of adulthood is in all ways preferable.
My theory is that whoever started this rumour that teen years are the best
years of your life was trying to hide the fact that their adolescence was a
living hell. Perhaps they never saw what became of their peers, and
therefore believed (as we tend to do in our adolescent insecurity) that
everyone else was having a wonderful time. So then this mysterious
rumour-originator had children of their own, or perhaps was exposed to
children another way (perhaps even became a high-school teacher?) They
didn't want the kids to know they hadn't been cool in high school, so they
told the story that they believed that the "cool kids" had experienced: that
these are the best years of your life. Somehow it oozed its way into
culture, resulting in this dubious adage that makes adolescents even more
miserable.
There seems to be a sort of archetype/cultural construct that your teen
years are supposed to be "the best years of your life", and they're just
full of non-stop fun.
However, in real life, I've never heard of anyone who thought their teen
years were their best years of their life. Everyone I've discussed this
topic with seems to agree that their teen years ranged from purgatory to
hell, and the freedom of adulthood is in all ways preferable.
My theory is that whoever started this rumour that teen years are the best
years of your life was trying to hide the fact that their adolescence was a
living hell. Perhaps they never saw what became of their peers, and
therefore believed (as we tend to do in our adolescent insecurity) that
everyone else was having a wonderful time. So then this mysterious
rumour-originator had children of their own, or perhaps was exposed to
children another way (perhaps even became a high-school teacher?) They
didn't want the kids to know they hadn't been cool in high school, so they
told the story that they believed that the "cool kids" had experienced: that
these are the best years of your life. Somehow it oozed its way into
culture, resulting in this dubious adage that makes adolescents even more
miserable.
Monday, October 18, 2004
Saturday, October 16, 2004
The Jane Austen Book Club by Karen Joy Fowler is a very pleasant book, generally positive (although not all flowers and sunshine and perkiness), engaging and easy to read. I quite enjoyed it. However, I don't think I got the full benefit because, sloth that I am, I've never quite gotten around to reading Austen. I'm sure there was subtext lurking around for those who have read Austen, and I'm sure I completely missed it.
Thursday, October 14, 2004
I was in the subway, sitting in the seat closest to the door. Two cops get on and stand on either side of the door I was sitting next to, leaning against the plexiglass. The cop closest to me was wearing a gun on his belt, so there was nothing but a layer of plexiglass between me and a gun! I have never been that close to a firearm before in my life, nor do I ever want to again. And no, I have no idea why these cops were taking the subway.
Wednesday, October 13, 2004
I often talk about incorporating into my bathroom such luxuries as a fireplace, internet access, or a bathtub big enough for two, but a more practical small luxury that I would really enjoy is a heated towel rack. They have them everywhere in the UK (or at least did like 10 years ago), but I've never seen one in Canada. I'm sure they aren't the best thing for the environment, but on a chilly grumpy morning the idea of stepping out of the shower into a hot towel is the stuff of fantasy.
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