anythingarian bubbles and troubles from the land of the fretting nun
David Luna, Dawn Lerman, and Laura A Peracchio sound like they’ve started something interesting in Structural Constraints in Codeswitched Advertising (via Scribal Terror). This approach, and the relaxed and integrationist attitude of the Brazilian goverment towards { Portuguese + Spanish = Portuñol}, seem more constructive than calling Spanglish “a hybrid and ugly-sounding monster” or persecuting [...]
A sympathetic friend will be away for the weekend of the Barcelona summit and would be delighted to let you have his seafront pad, featuring Burmese sculpture, a monstrous brothel-type water feature, and a rather small Porsche. Price: €5K.
Alex Mayrhofer’s gazetteer, used in the previous post, has a cool homophone feature which helps you distinguish between, for example, Swanmore, Hampshire (what’s with the Aireborough, Alex?), UK and Sāwan Maira, Pakistan. Impressive as the South Downs may seem after a heavy night, Alex’s 3D landscaping reminds one that pub crawls on the North West [...]
Apparently (via Onze Taal) a Serbian village is changing its name from Smrdić (“old and dirty”) to Izvor (“spring”). Said Smilja Kostic: “All the young people used to leave the village because they were ashamed to live in a place with such a name.” This seems to me dubious reasoning: despite its tempting name, there [...]
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Apparently some ladies & gents with whom I sing when the big geezer is off doing other stuff are going to be on the telly quite a lot.
Apart from the odd bit of arranging, the barrel organ is the thing at the moment, when I get time. It’s a somewhat more lonely path, but I’m not very good at dance steps or 80s music anyway.
Kalebeul wouldn’t watch a hagiography of a faghating totalitarian fuckwit like St Paul, so it sees no reason this weekend to take cinema seats away from Barcelona’s chiliastic masses in their nostalgic lust for Hispanic dictators and good-looking saints. Paul Berman’s piece from 2004 applies. Even the regime sociologists seem to have noticed that Cataloonia has lost track of reality.
Graffiti of Camarón de la Isla and guitarist, somewhere in Barcelona, I think in Carmelo, so overlooking the place where he died:
More here.
Kabe-Otoko/Wall Man, neither human nor demon, observes the world from within walls:
“Velen verzeggen Schiedam, maar sluiten dadelijk een verbond met Barcelona.” Is it about drinkers swearing by Dutch gin/jenever, only to turn to Spanish wine and brandy?
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