Twitter actually useful for something shock

November 19th, 2009

Twitter Just the thought of trying to explain this one to my grandparents is making my head hurt. “OK, let’s start with Twitter. You know what Twitter is, yes? No? Oh.”

Dan has curated an album called sc140. All the tracks are tweets that people have posted on Twitter, using the programming language SuperCollider.

The idea was to see how much music you could fit into 140 characters of code, for example:

{LocalOut.ar(a=DynKlank.ar(`[LocalIn.ar.clip2(LFPulse.kr([1,2,1/8])
.sum/2)**100*100],Impulse.ar(10)));HPF.ar(a).clip2}.play//

…which translates into this:

There are 22 tracks in total from a variety of artists. The album’s doing well – it’s got support from The Wire magazine and now there’s an article about it in New Scientist.

“My granny might raise her eyebrows if I gave her sc140 for Christmas, but if yours is the Aphex Twin type, then she’d definitely love it,” said Stowell, who has recently had media training, and knows a good soundbite when he hears one.

Download the full album for free.

Teddy bear for Nathan

November 17th, 2009

Bear

Two long-standing knitting projects got themselves finished this week. The first was this teddy bear for baby Nathan.

He’s nice and cuddly but I’m not sure this bear’s got quite as much character as the two I made in the summer. I’d been thinking of giving him a bowler hat, monocle and moustache, but Dan talked me out of it, which was almost certainly for the best.

Walruses and the wireless

November 4th, 2009

This week I was introduced to the amazing British Library Sound Archive. It’s full of pop music, political speeches, sound effects, interviews – everything you could possibly think of – and much of it is available to search and listen to online.

I’ve been itching to play you Walrus under ice, 1983, but it looks like you have to be in the library to access that particular clip. Still, for future reference, if you ever want to recreate the effect, it sounds exactly like someone beating a dustbin with a rolled up newspaper, while jumping up and down in a puddle.

British Library

Here’s another archive recording you might like instead.

In the 1920s, Daniel Jones (famous linguist) made a series of Linguaphone records aimed at learners of English as a second language. In this clip you’ll hear two voices discussing the wonders of the wireless. One is Arthur Lloyd James, who advised the BBC on spoken English and produced several booklets of Recommendations to Announcers during the 1930s. The other is JRR Tolkien (who bears responsibility for the dullest three hours I’ve ever spent in a cinema).

Stuff like this is the plunderphonist’s dream. Listen to more here.

Be a Ninja… listen to Jaguar Skills

November 2nd, 2009

Jaguar SkillsThe best hour’s radio I’ve heard in a long time is this week’s In New DJs We Trust from Radio 1. Jaguar Skills mixes hip hop, dance, answerphone messages, beatboxing quizzes and made-up interviews. It’s relentlessly silly.

Here’s a clip - or you can listen to the whole thing on iPlayer before Thursday night.

Meet Poland’s tiniest language

October 20th, 2009

Vilamovicean is one of the smallest languages in Europe. It’s understood by about 80 people in the town of Wilamowice, Poland. Of the 20 people who are fluent speakers, almost all are over the age of 80 – there’s just one who’s younger, and that’s a 16 year old boy called Tymek.

Tymek came to SOAS today to give a seminar with Alex Andrason, a linguist who’s studying and recording Vilamovicean (aka Vilamovian or Wymysorys). It’s not often you get to meet the ‘last’ speaker of a language and it was both exciting and moving to hear their talk.

As a child, Tymek acquired Vilamovicean from his grandparents, who looked after him while his mum and dad were at work. He explained why his parents never learnt the language:

“A nöm krig, ym 1945 jür köma dy kumunista, an zy ferböta wymysiöerys cy kuza an y wymysiöejer flak cy ocin. Zy numa oly klopa an jungy makia uf dy logyn, a dy klopa trajta zy ufa Ural. Ny oly kuma cyryk.”*

“After the war, in 1945, there came communists. They prohibited speaking the Vilamovicean language and wearing Vilamovicean dresses. They took all the men and young girls and sent them to camps in the Ural Mountains. Not all of them came back.”

“Dy eldyn kuzta sun ny wymysiöerys, azu dy kyndyn oü ny, an dy wnüka oü ny, azu yta s’ gyt nok ohcik loüt wu wymysiöerys kuza an dos zajn nok elder loüt, wu hon ejwerohcik jür.”

“Then, since the parents stopped talking in Vilamovicean, the children and the grand children did not learn it. In consequence, nowadays, there are only 80 people who can still speak the language. They are elderly people who are more than 80 years old.”

Alex Andrason’s interest in the language began when he came across a webpage that Tymek wrote a few years ago. Alex contacted him and they struck up a correspondence. Now Alex goes to Wilamowice for regular ‘holidays’, where the elderly speakers welcome him like an old friend, making him dinners and gladly answering his questions about their language.

Alex’s work is uncovering significant linguistic variation even among the few remaining speakers. Today’s seminar was about how to express the future tense – it was humbling to realise that when Alex was talking about “some” speakers using a particular construction, he was referring to about five people in the whole world.

Unsurprisingly, nothing has been published in the language for a very, very long time. With no rich literary tradition or extensive grammar books to refer to, Alex and Tymek are creating a new writing system for Vilamovicean. It’s a Germanic language that has a lot in common with German and Icelandic, but you might not recognise that immediately from the way it’s spelt. That’s because they’re basing the new orthography on Polish, Tymek’s other native language. “We’re writing it down for Tymek,” said Alex, “So it’s got to look familiar to him.”

If all this sounds like a lot of work, you’ll be surprised to hear that Alex is currently studying for a PhD, not in Vilamovicean, but in biblical Hebrew. How does he find the time?!

Usually when a language only has a handful of speakers and most are elderly, that’s it, you assume the language is going to die. But Tymek is so young and enthusiastic and Alex is so highly motivated that I can’t help wondering whether there might be hope for Vilamovicean yet.

* I’m afraid I haven’t done justice to the orthography here as Wordpress fails to display two of the characters correctly. Please tell me if you know how to fix it!

Alphabet pastry

October 10th, 2009

As I type, I can smell warm jam wafting out of the kitchen. I’ve been able to smell warm jam on and off for months. Either there’s something wrong with the smell computers in my brain, or I’ve pinpointed why the house is so full of wasps.

It’s definitely not my imagination this time, because I’m testing out my new alphabet pastry cutters on a quick and scruffy jam tart.

Time to get it out of the oven…

Jam tart

Yay, P.H.I.L.I.P.P.A. gets more jam tart than D.A.N.

Pickled eggs & pitta bread

September 30th, 2009

A whole week into my PhD, I’d hoped I might have some astonishing sociolinguistic insights to tell you about. I haven’t. But here’s a small language thing that happened in my local chip shop this evening.

The conversation went like this:

Me: “Salad in pitta bread please.”

Man behind counter fetches salad and unscrews the lid of an enormous jar.

Me: “Hang on! I don’t want a pickled egg!”

Man behind counter hovers over the pickled eggs looking confused.

Me: “Not pickled egg, pitta bread!”

Man behind counter points at the pickled eggs with a pair of tongs and looks like he wants to cry.

Customer in queue behind me: “Pitta bread! Pitta bread!”

Second man behind counter: “Piece of bread?”

Customer in queue behind me: “Er… yeah… I’d like a buttered roll please, but serve her first.”

‘Pitta bread’ and ‘pickled egg’ are practically the same word! Who would have thought it! I was so pleased, I wanted to tell the guy behind the counter about a similar experience I had at Euston station the other week (I’d ordered a camomile tea and was given a caramel latte), but I didn’t want to make things any more confused than they already were.

The Lock-Keeper’s Cottage

September 23rd, 2009

Look at this building! Isn’t it cool? The Lock-Keeper’s Cottage is the graduate centre at Queen Mary, so this is where I’ll be reading, typing and making cups of tea over the next three years.

The Lock-Keeper's Cottage

It was my first day of PhD induction today, so I got to have a look around. It’s stunning inside, with wonky windows and bare brick walls and a sweeping wooden staircase and views of the canal. I wasn’t surprised to learn that it won a RIBA award for architecture in 2006.

There’s something unsettling in the wording of the building’s regulations though: “The consumption of alcohol is forbidden, unless under academic supervision.” I’m 30 years old! How strange to be told I need to be supervised when drinking – and specifically by an academic.

Incidentally, it also feels weird that there are lifts elsewhere in the college that, as a student, I’m not supposed to use. Last week I was a grown-up, but from today I can no longer be trusted not to swig vodka at my desk or press the alarm button between floors.

Still, in return for giving up my adult status, I get to use a beautiful building and I don’t have to pay as much council tax, so ner.

Ormskirk Gingerbread

September 20th, 2009

Ormskirk gingerbread with brazil nuts

I want to tell you about this brilliant gingerbread recipe, which Dan inferred from a book called From Eccles Cake to Hawkshead Wig: A Celebration of Northern Food. It’s a revelation. It’s also remarkably fool-proof: I haven’t managed to cock it up once.

  • 500g plain flour
  • 200g dark soft brown sugar
  • 200g margarine
  • 2 tbsp golden syrup
  • 4 tsp ginger powder (or double if you want them crazy-hot)
  • 1 tsp cinnamon powder
  • Some brazil nuts, chopped or bashed (optional)
  • Cream the marge, sugar and golden syrup. Add the flour, ginger and cinnamon and stir it up. Add nuts if you want. Squidge handfuls of the dough into thick, flattish rounds. Put them on a baking tray (they don’t grow much in the oven so you can put them quite close together) and bake for 25 minutes at gas mark 3 (170º C). Yum yum yum.

    According to Dan’s version of the recipe, these quantities make about 18 biscuits. I find that, taking into consideration all the uncooked dough that gets eaten before the gingerbread goes in the oven, 12 is a more realistic figure.

    Ormskirk gingerbread with brazil nuts

    Incidentally, for those of you interested in scale, this is a side plate (not a dinner plate).

    Thought for the Day (remix)

    September 15th, 2009

    Cat, three cheeses, pickled onionHaving been kept awake most of the night by the cold, the plumbing and the squirrels, I was only semi-conscious as we ate breakfast over Thought for the Day this morning.

    One of the benefits of being temporarily unemployed is having the time to recreate what my brain made of the Bishop of Southwark, the Right Reverend Tom Butler.