1. This Carl Sagan quote gently refutes my glee yesterday about swearing (“I have to do it; it’s instinct!”):
The cerebral cortex is a liberation. We need no longer be trapped in the genetically inherited patterns of lizards and baboons. We are, each of us, largely responsible for what gets put into our brains, for what, as adults, we wind up caring for and knowing about. No longer at the mercy of the reptile brain, we can change ourselves.
2. Somewhat related, if only because I learned about her in the Cosmos series, did you know that a movie is out about the life of Hypatia? It’s called Agora and its lack of a slick Flash site (or any site) makes me hopeful.
Those ARE The Best Words, Apparently
I swear a lot. I try to keep a lid on it in public, but in private–and in my head–there’s a lot of profanity. Sometimes I think that, as someone who deals with words all day, I should have a better substitute for all these curse words, something more creative and less swear-y. But it seems that’s not the case:
This “How Stuff Works” article about swearing brings in the science behind swearing, saying that “many researchers believe that it helps relieve stress and blow off steam, like crying does for small children.” The coolest thing, though, is what happens to our brains when we swear:
Language processing is a “higher” brain function and takes place in the cerebral cortex [while] emotion and instinct are “lower” brain functions and take place deep inside the brain…Many studies suggest that the brain processes swearing in the lower regions, along with emotion and instinct..
So they’re words that aren’t even processed as language, but instead tied to our basic brain functions? No wonder there aren’t any satisfying substitutes. I love it when science backs me up.
Ginsberg It Up
I thought of this Sunday night at the grocery store.
A Supermarket in California
by Allen Ginsberg
What thoughts I have of you tonight Walt Whitman, for I walked down
the sidestreets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon.
In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went into the neon
fruit supermarket, dreaming of your enumerations!
What peaches and what penumbras! Whole families shopping at night! Aisles
full of husbands! Wives in the avocados, babies in the tomatoes!—and you, Garcia
Lorca, what were you doing down by the watermelons?
I saw you, Walt Whitman, childless, lonely old grubber, poking
among the meats in the refrigerator and eyeing the grocery boys.
I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed the pork chops? What price
bananas? Are you my Angel?
I wandered in and out of the brilliant stacks of cans following you, and
followed in my imagination by the store detective.
We strode down the open corridors together in our solitary fancy
tasting artichokes, possessing every frozen delicacy, and never passing the cashier.
Where are we going, Walt Whitman? The doors close in an hour. Which way
does your beard point tonight?
(I touch your book and dream of our odyssey in the supermarket and feel
absurd.)
Will we walk all night through solitary streets? The trees add shade to shade,
lights out in the houses, we’ll both be lonely.
Will we stroll dreaming of the lost America of love past blue automobiles in
driveways, home to our silent cottage?
Ah, dear father, graybeard, lonely old courage-teacher, what America did you
have when Charon quit poling his ferry and you got out on a smoking bank
and stood watching the boat disappear on the black waters of Lethe?
Tuesday Project Roundup: No Such Thing As Too Much Pattern
This week’s project is just a pillow cover. I had some fabric on hand that I had bought for the quilt binding (before I decided on solid blue) and enough left over from the back border to finish it off.
And there’s piping. I guess I’d better plan on making a winter bathrobe soon, since I’m starting to put piping on everything.
To The Mountains
Since there are only six weeks left of summer and I hadn’t been to the mountains yet, Saturday I went to Mirror Lake with the family.
I hadn’t been up there for nearly twenty years, but it was pretty much how I remembered it–with about a thousand percent more people. (Whatever happened to people camping in tents? Now people bring trailers, barbecues, lawn games, lap dogs, and god knows what else.) But it was still nice to see the sights:
This is Bald Mountain. We did not climb it because we did not want to get stuck in an afternoon thunderstorm at the top.
Here’s a little lake. We had walked away from the people at this point.
A gorgeous gorge (ha!). People were right behind us but I ignored them.
Friday Unrelated Information
1. Do you think it’s prudent or crazy to avoid buying a house in the Avenues because I’m afraid it would slide right down the hill in an earthquake? I was thinking it was prudent, but I walked to yoga last night and thought, “I really like my neighborhood.” (Do other people even think like this? Plan their life around disasters that may never happen?)
2. It’s the first of August this weekend, which means it’s Lughnasa, which means we have six more weeks of summer. I’d better take more walks and enjoy it.
3. Fair season will also be here before you know it. I didn’t enter anything last year and when I walked around the fair I felt like I was left out. So now I’m trying to decide what sewing projects are impressive enough to enter, and if I want to try to finish that cable sweater, too.
Not A Verb
I’ve found a site that I want to print out and leave at everyone’s desks at work: notaverb.com. It makes the case conclusively that “login” is not a verb (if you don’t want to read the page, use it as two words). This makes me unreasonable happy–as does the conclusion on the “login” page:
If you take only one thing away from this page, take that one fact: “login” is not a verb. Educate others. Correct manuals, software, and web pages as you find them. Tell everyone you know that “login” is not a verb. You will make a pedant (me) happy. You will earn the respect of grammar nazis. Most importantly, you will know the truth.
Toby Says:
Tuesday Project Roundup: The Summer Of The Skirt Continues
Hey look, a pencil skirt in a bright print–bet you haven’t seen anything like that before!
It’s the same Burda pattern that I used on all the others, and it goes together in under two hours now. The fabric is a print from designer Heather Ross’ collection inspired by fairy tales. I went with generic roses, but the Owl and the Pussycat fabric was tempting.
I have one more dress planned for summer, but lately all I can think about is fall and fall sewing–which makes me feel kind of disloyal to the season. I was secretly happy about the rain and the coolness last night. (Sorry, summer.)
Mad Men Music Monday
How great was the first episode of Mad Men season 4 last night? I loved seeing Peggy like that and the ending was fantastic, with Don and his whiskey and this song: