JEALOUS

May 22, 2009 at 11:17 pm (Uncategorized) (, , )

I guess that whole ‘what, were you raised by wolves?’ thing had to come from somewhere….

A fascinating example of how children simply absorb the language or languagelike behaviors in their environment comes from an event which began in October 1920, when a Christian missionary, Reverend J.A.L. Singh, was out on one of his usual soul-saving expeditions in the Bengali region of India. He would gather pagan volunteers from nearby villages, who were usually willing to listen to him preach as long as they were permitted to hunt between sermons. At the village of Godamuri, he was told a strange story about a manushbhaga, or man-ghost, that had been seen several times over the previous few years. It was usually seen in the presence of wolves, who were going in and out of a giant, dead termite mound they seemed to be using as a den. Reverend Singh had a hunter’s blind constructed near the anthill, and shortly after dark he observed a wolf coming out of the mound. Singh calls it a wold, but in his diary he notes that it was probably a type of jackal, which is common to that region, rather than a true wolf. In any event, the “wolf” was followed by some others, and then came a grotesque-looking animal. It had the body of a human but waljked on all fours, with the palms of the hands flat on the ground. The head seemed to be “a big ball of something covering the shoulders and upper portion of the bust.” There was obviously a humanlike face visible under this ball. (The ball later turned out to be an accumulation of matted hair.) Following this animal came another one, just like it, only smaller in size. When Singh proposed to dig up the mound, the local villagers refused. They were afraid that disturbing the “ghosts” might bring some sort of retribution of curse down on them and their village. In the end, the Reverend went to another village, which did not know of the story, and found some more willing workers.

On the morning of October 17, the mound was dug up. As soon as the digging began, two wolves ran out and escaped into the jungle. A third chose to defend the den. Reverend Singh later said that it saddened him to have to kill her, since it appeared to be a divine act that she had chosen to keep these two strange creatures alive (although it did seem likely that she had originally brought them to the den to serve as food for her cubs.) Inside the den they found two wolf cubs, and huddled next to them the two strange creatures, which turned out to be human children. The older girl was about eight years old, and they named her Kamala, while the younger was about two, and they named her Amala. Amala would due within the year; Kamala would survive until she was about eighteen.

For our purposes, the most interesting aspects of this case have to do with the behavior of the children. In addition to walking on all fours, they had other wolfish behaviors. They sniffed everything that they were given, and ate and drank, like dogs, from a plate on the floor. They preferred raw meat, and would growl, snarl, or snap at anyone who came close while they were eating. If they were frightened, they would back away, snarling and showing their teeth. Once Kamala became comfortable with her surroundings, she would sometimes pick up a toy in her mouth and run away with it, much like dogs do when they are playing with each other. She seemed to be trying to induce a canine-style chasing game.

Reverend Singh initially reported that the girls were mute, but by this he meant they spoke no human language. They did make sounds, such as the sort of growling we’ve already noted. They also had a high-pitched whimpering sound, much like that of frightened or lonely puppies. They would occasionally make yipping sounds when they were excited, again like a playful puppy. But perhaps the most striking sound they made was howling. It started with a hoarse low voice, which gradually changed to a long loud wailing that had many similarities to the nighttime howls of wolves, jackals, and dogs. In the early days after their rescue, the girls would prowl around at night. During their prowling, they would stop to howl at regular times, usually around 10:00 pm, 1:00 am, and again at 3:00 am. Their vocal behaviors were exactly what we would expect if children had been exposed only to the vocal sounds of wolves. It appears that in the same way that normally reared children imitate the sounds of the language spoken in their household, Kamala and Amala had learned to reproduce the sounds “spoken” in their canine household.

(Excerpt from ‘How to Speak Dog’ by Stanley Coren.)

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I want to be a wolf girl!

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Lessons from kids books pt. 1

May 7, 2009 at 11:23 pm (Uncategorized) (, , )

night

ALSO: This puppy is cute.

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And this animal is wacky.

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Too lazy to write.

February 28, 2009 at 3:06 am (Cute Animals, Uncategorized) (, , , , , )

Stuff that is cool:

corrie
Me, clearly. This book looks insanely long but the font and spacing are huge (cause old ladies love the Street.)

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This dog. I mean, seriously, holy fuck.

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This. Even though I hate kids, I love kid related art stuff. Although, I have come to accept lately I may not actually hate children, I just don’t want to own one.

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Lloyd/Lister. I have never actually seen Red Dwarf, but now that it’s temporarily coming back and I have come to love Lloyd, I feel I should give it a chance. Hmm.

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These rabbits.

yummm
This shit. Wow.

lambick

gorilladanceparty
This Gorilla/Night Elf hunter dance party. (I am the shadow babe.)

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Ramblings.

January 8, 2009 at 11:00 pm (Uncategorized) (, , , , )

I got this for Christmas:

cookbook

If you have ever read a Redwall book you know how central the food is to the story.  So often I have wondered what these creations tasted like, now I can see! It didn’t have as many recipes as I’d hoped, or some of the ones I had wondered about… but how neat anyway!

On Sunday I attempted the ‘Gatehouse Spiced Tea Bread.’ I failed miserably. It got burned on the top and totally destroyed, alas.

Last night I made the ‘Turnip N’ Tater N’ Beetroot Pie’ which is definitely a notorious one. It was weird, but good I thought! The pickled beets on the side were only optional so I skipped that cause I hate beets! Ate the leftovers for lunch today :)

I felt really good last night actually. Partially probably because I got to sleep in and spend the day at home! But starting at around 3 pm I started cleaning the house, walking the dog, making dinner etc and didn’t get to sit down till 8 o’clock but to be honest it made me feel kind of good. I spent my evening with a goal to do something, keeping busy with something other than smoking weed and drinking. [Although I may have still been doing a little of this as I was productive!]

It’s so silly, my life is so overwhelmed by spending so much time dreading stuff I never actually do anything. Like, I’ll look at the same dirty corner of the bathroom every day, let it make me sad, stress about how horrible it will be to clean it, and this goes on for a long time. It would be so much easier for me to just take the few minutes to clean up what is bothering me and after I do I feel SO GOOD! I spend infinitely more time stressing about things than it takes to resolve them. I never learn though.

I am the same with everything, it’s not just chores. Christmas with my family, I dreaded for months. I had nightmares about. It ended up being pretty good actually, and it went by so quick! The months of stress leading up were so painfully for naught. But I never learn.

I even do this about things I am actually looking forward to, that I know I will enjoy. The stress of having an “obligation,” a period of time where I am expected to be going somewhere doings something other than being at home in my pajamas. I RARELY spend time with friends where I don’t think, ‘Wow, I am so glad I did this! This is a lot of fun! I will have to do this more often!’ and I inevitably say to whoever I am having a good time with, ‘This is so great, we have to hang out way more! Definitely!’ And then I fall back into my hole of fear and stress and laziness.

I do not believe that I am lazy. My actions all point to me being horribly lazy. But I think it is something else entirely that drives me to want to sit in front of my laptop all day doing nothing, thinking nothing. I think I am so overwhelmed by the daily normal life I lead, that most people take for granted, that when I am not having to deal with that I just need to hide in a bubble and rest. Then I think, is life really that much harder for me or am I just being a big baby?

Jeff was telling me about something called ‘cognitive dissonance’ in relation to stupid religious people. However, I think this is something I am plagued with. I can never think straight about anything, decide for sure how I feel about anything. I always see both sides and even when I assert opinions I can’t tell whether I really mean it, or whether I am just playing devil’s advocate. Do I want to have more of a social life? Yes and no, 1000% for each.

Not knowing your own mind gets a little tiring.

Blah.

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Originality died a long time ago.

December 4, 2008 at 10:54 pm (Uncategorized) ()

I always knew there was a reason I hated her, but could never quite put my finger on it.

It’s cause SHE’S A FAKE! A copy of a 1978 character.

rosamond-emily

What sort of message are you trying to send your audience with “Emily the Strange”?

That’s really the most important thing alongside the art itself. Emily is often misinterpreted as a negative or plain old bad girl. To me, she’s more of an icon for the think-for-yourself, do-it-yourself movement.

LOL
Read more at the source

And Purple People Eater Gloves to boot!

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You know if we could, we’d sell the air.

December 1, 2008 at 9:29 pm (Uncategorized) ()

This reminded me of a certain internet acquaintance who copyrighted her shitty tattoo….

The Public Domain: Enclosing the Commons of the Mind [download here!]

Each person has a different breaking point. For one of my students it was United States Patent number 6,004,596 for a “Sealed Crustless Sandwich.” In the curiously mangled form of English that patent law produces, it was described this way:

A sealed crustless sandwich for providing a convenient sandwich without an outer crust which can be stored for long periods of time without a central filling from leaking outwardly. The sandwich includes a lower bread portion, an upper bread portion, an upper filling and a lower filling between the lower and upper bread portions, a center filling sealed be- tween the upper and lower fillings, and a crimped edge along an outer perimeter of the bread portions for sealing the fillings there between. The upper and lower fillings are preferably comprised of peanut butter and the center filling is comprised of at least jelly. The center filling is pre- vented from radiating outwardly into and through the bread portions from the surrounding peanut butter.

“But why does this upset you?” I asked; “you’ve seen much worse than this.” And he had. There are patents on human genes, on auctions, on algorithms. The U.S. Olympic Committee has an expansive right akin to a trademark over the word “Olympic” and will not permit gay activists to hold a “Gay Olympic Games.” The Supreme Court sees no First Amendment problem with this. Margaret Mitchell’s estate famously tried to use copyright to prevent Gone With the Wind from being told from a slave’s point of view. The copyright over the words you are now read- ing will not expire until seventy years after my death; the men die young in my family, but still you will allow me to hope that this might put it close to the year 2100. Congress periodically considers legislative proposals that would allow the ownership of facts. The Digital Millennium Copyright Act gives content providers a whole array of legally protected digital fences to en- close their work. In some cases it effectively removes the privilege of fair use. Each day brings some new Internet horror story about the excesses of intellectual property. Some of them are even true. The list goes on and on. (By the end of this book, I hope to have convinced you that this matters.) With all of this going on, this enclosure movement of the mind, this locking up of symbols and themes and facts and genes and ideas (and eventually people), why get excited about the patenting of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich? “I just thought that there were limits,” he said; “some things should be sacred.”

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More Walden

October 27, 2008 at 10:16 pm (Uncategorized) (, , )

I say, beware of all enterprises that require new clothes, and not rather a new wearer of clothes. If there is not a new man, how can the new clothes be made to fit? If you have any enterprise before you, try it in your old clothes. All men want, not something to do with, but something to do, or rather something to be. Perhaps we should never procure a new suit, however ragged or dirty the old, until we have so conducted, so enterprised or sailed in some way, that we feel like new men in the old, and that to retain it would be like keeping new wine in old bottles. Our moulting season, like that of the fowls, must be a crisis in our lives. The loon retires to solitary ponds to spend it. Thus also the snake casts its slough, and the caterpillar its wormy coat, by an internal industry and expansion; for clothes are but our outmost cuticle and mortal coil. Otherwise we shall be found sailing under false colors, and be inevitably cashiered at last by our own opinion, as well as that of mankind.

On the whole, I think that it cannot be maintained that dressing has in this or any country risen to the dignity of an art. At present men make shift to wear what they can get. Like shipwrecked sailors, they put on what they can find on the beach, and at a little distance, whether of space or time, laugh at each other’s masquerade.

Comparatively, tattooing is not the hideous custom which it is called. It is not barbarous merely because the printing is skin-deep and unalterable.

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Rat in a cage

October 27, 2008 at 7:16 pm (Uncategorized) (, )

The pointless struggle of life appears especially absurd these days, as happens to me periodically. Reading Walden while bored at work is probably not the best way to increase job satisfaction.

The twelve labors of Hercules were trifling in comparison with those which my neighbors have undertaken; for they were only twelve, and had an end; but I could never see that these men slew or captured any monster or finished any labor…

But men labor under a mistake. The better part of the man is soon plowed into the soil for compost. By a seeming fate, commonly called necessity, they are employed, as it says in an old book, laying up treasures which moth and rust will corrupt and thieves break through and steal. It is a fool’s life, as they will find when they get to the end of it, if not before…

Public opinion is a weak tyrant compared with our own private opinion. What a man thinks of himself, that it is which determines, or rather indicates, his fate….

The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation…

Age is no better, hardly so well, qualified for an instructor as youth, for it has not profited so much as it has lost. One may almost doubt if the wisest man has learned anything of absolute value by living. Practically, the old have no very important advice to give the young, their own experience has been so partial, and their lives have been such miserable failures, for private reasons, as they must believe; and it may be that they have some faith left which belies that experience, and they are only less young than they were. I have lived some thirty years on this planet, and I have yet to hear the first syllable of valuable or even earnest advice from my seniors. They have told me nothing, and probably cannot tell me anything to the purpose. Here is life, an experiment to a great extent untried by me; but it does not avail me that they have tried it. If I have any experience which I think valuable, I am sure to reflect that this my Mentors said nothing about.

The greater part of what my neighbors call good I believe in my soul to be bad, and if I repent of anything, it is very likely to be my good behavior. What demon possessed me that I behaved so well? You may say the wisest thing you can, old man- you who have lived seventy years, not without honor of a kind- I hear an irresistible voice which invites me away from all that.”

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Breaking a nail is a serious ailment.

October 14, 2008 at 8:34 pm (Uncategorized) (, , , , , , )

It is common to mock women for complaining that they broke a nail, but when you have acrylics it is a bitch. Saturday on Galiano, I made the mistake of catching a styrofoam football thrown with a slight amount of force. I felt pain, looked down, my nail had cracked right through the middle and blood was seeping out. Right now I can bend it a little bit and see my nail bed. Every time I accidentally bend it back it is making me want to puke. Lesson learned: No matter what turmoil is going on in your life, MAKE SURE YOU GET YOUR NAILS FILLED IN AN APPROPRIATE AMOUNT OF TIME. Now that I have returned to civilization I can go get it fixed this afternoon. I can only imagine how pleasant them grinding the acrylic down to the nail bed will be. *Shudder*

Galiano was good, except for usual family annoyances, and being away from my love. It was beautiful, the weather was nice until we left, and the blackout in the middle of cooking turkey corrected itself before the meal was ruined. In my typical family tradition, we ate at 10pm. Actually, we haven’t done that in a while. I took a million pictures; I will post them later. Next time: Make conditions of my involvement clear ahead of time.

Also, I finally started reading a Palahniuk book. Choke. Naturally, it is pretty fantastic.

“All she really did was set the stage. She just introduced men to their ideal. She set them up on a date with their subconscious because nothing is as good as you can imagine it. No one is as beautiful as she is in your head. Nothing is as exciting as your fantasy. Here you’d have the sex you only dreamt about.*”

*Unless you are super awesome like me, in which case you are having it now, in real life. As much as humanly possible anyway. Well, not this second; I am at work you pervs!

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My life without me.

September 18, 2008 at 7:01 pm (Uncategorized) (, , )

Throughout my life, while musing on civilization and it’s benefits and downfalls, I often have the occurring thought of ‘Stupid fucking humans, wouldn’t it be great if a plague wiped the whole population out tomorrow?’ Then it occurs to me, would the Earth be able to recover? Would all the little animals be stuck with like, nuclear power plants melting down due to lack of maintenance? If only these hooves were a little more dainty, I could press that damned red button…. Being stoned at the beach the other day Jeff indiscriminately brought up this book on the very subject! I was incredibly excited. Luckily he used to work at a bookstore, so he has a lot of books, and this one is in my bag now! I am very interested to start reading it.

Jeff: I am surprised you are not more interested in post-apocalyptic movies!
Me: But there are always scary zombies and stuff!

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