Sunday, February 22, 2009

Evil is a deed as I live.

I recently received this message from a friend of mine about a topic I has brought up in casual conversation months prior.

"I recall you posing the question some time in the recent past about whether you'd make more sense to yourself and others if you could think fluidly in French. At the time I said no, but now I retract that statement.

In my human communications class today, we were discussing the Sapir/Whorf hypothesis which suggests that our language influences and even determines our thoughts and actions.

For example, in Russian, there is a word to specifically describe the pleasure you feel when your rival fails. This implies that this particular emotion is a social norm in Russian culture. Here, we don't have a specific word to convey that emotion, and you will notice that we are supposed to be "good sports" whether we win or lose.

My point is, there may be hope for you yet, John Neilson."

-Stephanie Brown, respectively

What I want to do is learn French very well and then move to a French speaking area and then, eventually, get to the point where I will think in French. I believe that maybe my thought process will evolve and potentially stabilize.
"Dammit I'm Mad" by Demetri Martin
(a 224-word palindrome poem)

Dammit I’m mad.
Evil is a deed as I live.
God, am I reviled? I rise, my bed on a sun, I melt.
To be not one man emanating is sad. I piss.
Alas, it is so late. Who stops to help?
Man, it is hot. I’m in it. I tell.
I am not a devil. I level “Mad Dog”.
Ah, say burning is, as a deified gulp,
In my halo of a mired rum tin.
I erase many men. Oh, to be man, a sin.
Is evil in a clam? In a trap?
No. It is open. On it I was stuck.
Rats peed on hope. Elsewhere dips a web.
Be still if I fill its ebb.
Ew, a spider… eh?
We sleep. Oh no!
Deep, stark cuts saw it in one position.
Part animal, can I live? Sin is a name.
Both, one… my names are in it.
Murder? I’m a fool.
A hymn I plug, deified as a sign in ruby ash,
A Goddam level I lived at.
On mail let it in. I’m it.
Oh, sit in ample hot spots. Oh wet!
A loss it is alas (sip). I’d assign it a name.
Name not one bottle minus an ode by me:
“Sir, I deliver. I’m a dog”
Evil is a deed as I live.
Dammit I’m mad.

Palindromes and anagrams* seem to be ways that people have deconstructed language into something almost mathematical. Its the kind of expanded way of thinking I would like to achieve. To maybe see connections that most people wouldn't.

*Debit Card - Bad Credit
Husband and Wife - Fun Was Had In Bed

Speak easy,

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