Thinkage 3

Cheshire…

That’s a nice word. I don’t know what it is about Cheshire, but I am automatically drawn to whatever it is. Maybe it’s the connotations of Alice in Wonderland that I like, or maybe it links back to a pair of socks I once had that I called my Cheshire socks (they looks like the Cheshire cat’s tail). The tale of the Cheshire’s tail… Of course I may just like that word because I like the sound of the ‘sh’ in the middle. It’s not as harsh as the average ‘sh’s you find in common day English. It is a nice word nonetheless; regardless of the reason why I should find that word particularly attractive.

I don’t think I like Cheshire because of the socks, though. I have a fine pair of socks to which I refer them as ‘marshmallow’ socks. Marshmallow is a fantastic word, though I prefer Cheshire. So if it was because of the socks, surely I would prefer the word marshmallow, since I prefer those pair of socks? To back up my theory of the reason of my love of Cheshire (isn’t Cheshire a cheese? No, hang on, that’s cheddar. There may be a Cheshire cheese, though I am not aware of it) is the way the ‘sh’ sounds, say Cheshire and marshmallow… The ‘sh’ doesn’t sound the same! Marshmallows are harsher (though if there was indeed a Cheshire cheese, then I suppose realistically, that would be harsher than a marshmallow). They are spelt the same, but they have different sounds. Subtle as that difference may be, it is a rather important difference. I have just noticed that I am beginning to develop a distaste for the general ‘sh’ found in many everyday words. It is far too harsh; it looks as though it should be friendly, but it rarely sounds it. It is much like a tiger, or a polar bear. Or a friendly looking German. Hmmm… German doesn’t have many friendly sounding sounds, do they? If you think about it, normally the foreigners that sound harsh, such as Serbians, for example, only sound harsh because of their tone of voice (they sound rather argumentative – though that may just be my family), NOT the actually sound of the word itself. If you break down words in Serbian to their sounds, they sound rather nice (even the č, which sounds as though it ought to be harsh, but it really has a deeper soul than originally thought). Whereas if you break down the sounds of German, it still sounds harsh, no matter how nicely you say it.

The ‘sh’ is rather German (but a friendly one). Actually, it may even be Austrian, if one is going into detail about the matter.

I wonder if the general sound of a language has anything to do with the personalities of its creators (I know that nowadays language have molten into each other, but we must look at the base of the sound of a language if we are going to make any sense of anything). For example, the German’s ancestors were rather large men with bushy mustaches and the last time they laughed, it caused a domino effect which resulted in the neighbour’s cousin’s dog’s death; which consequently created a large amount of tension to the once friendly ‘can I borrow your furry boots’ neighbours.

The next time the German asked for a lend of his neighbour’s furry boots, he politely declined, which just caused that tiny bit more tension required to create a blood feud lasting several centuries.

Thinkage 2

Cloud….

Clouds are funny things… They’re a lot like ethnic minorities in many ways; there are many different types, and everyone views them differently. There are fluffy white ones, big black ones, scattered ones (which make lovely sunsets) and many more to name. There’s a huge grey cloud outside at the moment, taking up all the sky, which I find rather rude. As an added insult, it’s also made the day somewhat of a cold one, which confused me quite a lot since its April. I’m sure climate change during recent years must be either:

a) God’s idea of a practical joke (things must be boring up there, since he hasn’t really had the chance to meet anyone new since Ghandi; and lets face it, I don’t think Ghandi would be much fun at parties. Or would he? Actually, if God is an intellectual, then I’m sure Ghandi would be able to blow him away, which must be a thrill for the omnipotent. Hmmm… but if God is omnipotent, then would he be able to be blown away, even by Ghandi? Surely God must have heard it all, since he created it all. Then again, I rarely remember or proof read what I’ve created, so one mustn’t expect too much of God. Then again, I don’t believe in God).

b) Meteorologists’ idea of a practical joke (for the same reason as above, but without Ghandi and God).

c) A natural phenomenon sped up and amplified by the consumption of oil, natural gas, and other unnatural releases of CO2 (but this is far too boring and obvious to be true, it is much like evolution – finally the Americans have got something right).

d) Aliens’ idea of a practical joke (Haven’t they got anything better to do that to play with our minds?? And our body temperatures, for that matter. How dare they? Maybe this is all a test… I wonder if we’ll pass? Are they testing us as a species, or are they testing us individually, and I wonder if those of us that pass their test get to be a part of their intergalactic federation, and I wonder whether we’d be able to wear cool uniforms. I hope they have a decent seamstress, because I suppose a uniform made for a humanoid species with four arms, would look rather unflattering on the average person…. I don’t know why astronomists and such continue their search for alien life, I mean, it’s obviously an SEP [Somebody Else’s Problem], isn’t it? No one would notice if an alien spaceship landed in their back garden [because it would conflict too much with their daily rituals of watching TV, playing kerplunk etc, and their brains simply wouldn’t be able to cope with that much information, so they choose to just not notice it], so they certainly wouldn’t notice alien life through their telescope).

I’m inclined to believe neither a) (since I don’t believe in God), or c) (for the reason explained), so if you ask me, either way climate change is a practical joke of someone’s.

Hmmmm… after all that talk about SEP’s, I’m a bit more inclined to believe in God. Maybe Aliens and God are one in the same thing? No… that could never be, since God impregnated Mary, and it is already proven that alien and human interbreeding is impossible. God must be God. But if you think about God in a logical and illogical way simultaneously, it does seem slightly plausible. Quantum physics explains SEP’s (not in the same wonderful way as Douglas Adams did, but we mustn’t be picky), so theoretically, a big grey bearded man could be sitting in a cloud, with nothing better to do than play around with our climate. Though, I mustn’t be too harsh on him, if I was God for a day, I’d probably pull some fantastic pranks on mankind. If I end up going to heaven (which might exist, if it were disguised as an SEP), then I’m sure God would have to watch me very carefully, since I’d plan to get mankind into all sorts of mischief. Then again; God might very well have a fantastic sense of humour, but his acts were justified, or left out, by a really boring and friendless monk with a chip on his shoulder writing the very first bible (or translating it from the original Latin). Plague of locusts? Parting of the red sea? Impregnating some random virgin for kicks? Maybe God has a sense of humour after all…

NB: I realize this piece of writing is quite politically incorrect, and I shall strive to work on a redo in reference to Allah, Vishnu and Buddha. But not Xenu, because Scientology is a bunch of cobblers. They’re ever madder than I am.

Thinkage 1

Carrot…

Horshoe...

Radish?

Aubergine...

One small aubergine…

If one was reading a recipe book, and had never come into contact with an aubergine before, how would that person know if it was small? He could quite easily pick out an aubergine that seemed small at the time, but was actually a large aubergine amongst very large aubergines. It must be a very artificial shop. I wouldn’t want to shop there; god knows how much things have been injected with what. I think that’s why Yugoslavians are so tall; there was a growth hormone in their food, and it turned them all into giants. I wonder if it’s true. The way I explained it sounds like an urban legend, though it sounded plausible at the time I heard it. Though most things DO sound plausible to me.

The recipe could be ruined if he picked a large aubergine. It would taste too aubergin-ey. What does an aubergine taste like? I can never recall the difference between marrows, aubergines, that purpley thing, and generally anything that resembles a cucumber faintly.

Cucumber…

Is that what a cucumber should be called? Cucumber… I’m so used to associating that word with the vegetable, it’s almost impossible to have that word belong to something else. I wonder if that’s why older people can’t learn languages as well; they’re more used to things being associated with other things that they can’t comprehend things otherwise. Multilingual people must be quit open minded then.

Who says a cucumber should be called a cucumber? I have a feeling that language would be much more successful if someone with, say, synesthesia got to name everything.

‘Hey, you there!’

‘Yes?’

‘What does that longish green vegetable over there sound like?’

‘Hmm, it sounds more like rumplecrutch than anything else.’

‘Ah! So it’s not a cucumber, then?’

‘Goodness, no! A cucumber is a rather painful sports injury!’

And so the conversation continues as most conversations do. How do most conversations continue? I find myself switching from this to that when talking to someone, randomly saying whatever my mouth thinks appropriate at the time, without ever consulting my brain. If I try to consult my brain, then I can never think of anything to say. It’s like playing the guitar; if you concentrate too much on it, you’ll muck up. If you’re trying to write a song, it’ll never come out as good as if you just start playing and feeling the chords and music. I suppose that’s why our mouths have nerves, so we can feel what we’re talking about without ever having to consult our brain. How confusing would it be if your whole mouth went numb, and you couldn’t feel that you were talking about, but you could hear what you were talking about? How could you be sure it was actually you talking? It would be like when you get pins and needles in your leg, and it goes numb. Then you wonder where you leg had got to, so you poke it to see whether it’s still there, which of course you can’t tell because you can’t feel yourself being poked by yourself. My leg always feels very different if it decides it’s not a part of me – it genuinely feels as if it belongs to someone else. I wonder if it decided to swap bodies for a bit? I wonder if a paraplegic somewhere suddenly got pins and needles in their leg for 5 minutes? They must be very confused, happy and angry all at once. They must be confused, since they were told they would never feel anything again, happy because they’re feeling their legs, and angry because they must think it’s rather cheeky for the first thing for them to feel in years is pins and needles, which, let’s face it, must be really annoying.

But then your leg comes back, since it felt rather unwelcome in the paraplegic’s body, since the paraplegic was angry at it for bringing pins and needles for the first time in 5 years. Then the leg takes it all out on you by giving you excruciating pain while it’s coming back. Which is rather unfair on both you and the paraplegic.

The leg is a rather mean and vindictive limb.