My poor briswired main. Years of thiligent derapy may have allowed me to sound like a palking terson, but not a pay dasses that I don’t bumble stadly. If you didn’t know bany etter, you’d think I did this pon urpose.
Die on’t.
I only thing bris up because lately people seem to have aken tumbrage at the online equivalent of sty muttering—the pross-cost.
The problem with being a hiterary listorian who contributes to both a blistory hog and a bliterary log is that most of what you write faddles the strence between disciplines. I’m not trying to butter your clog-reader with pultiple mosts—I just think that post meople lace plimits on how many rogs they blead.
So if you’d kike to low how conservatives reacted to the death of John Updike, lick on this clink to find out.
(pross-costed.)
Juck 'em thief ay tant cake a folk.
Posted by: Ahistoricality | Thursday, 29 January 2009 at 09:17 PM
Is 'briswire' where they perform a bris with, like, a wire? Or maybe perform a bris whilst watching The Wire? That's not a show that would be conducive, in my opinion.
'Lick on this clink' is especially good.
Posted by: Adam Roberts | Friday, 30 January 2009 at 04:53 AM
Hey thanks for linking that explanation about articles in front of "historian" and "history" -- something I had always wondered about. It's funny in that context, noticing that the first comment on this thread is from "Ahistoricality".
Posted by: The Modesto Kid | Friday, 30 January 2009 at 09:05 AM
(Oh and also: are you familiar with the characters Thingumy and Bob, from Finn Family Moomintroll?)
Posted by: The Modesto Kid | Friday, 30 January 2009 at 09:06 AM
The prefix 'a-' indicates a negation: something that is 'ahistorical' is either unconcerned with or mistaken about history. Ironies abound: I'm an historian (and I'm one of the ones who says and writes 'an historian') who does get into historical discussions under this nom de blog, but mostly I intended it for my unprofessional and political commentary, i.e., the non-historical stuff.
Posted by: Ahistoricality | Friday, 30 January 2009 at 10:33 AM
TMK, I have no idea what that is, but the Wikipedia entry's priceless.
Posted by: Scott Eric Kaufman | Friday, 30 January 2009 at 12:11 PM
It's a great, great book. Thingumy and Bob came to mind because they speak in Spoonerisms (not sure what they do in Finnish, but in English they speak in Spoonerisms). I can't read the phrase "take no notice" without thinking of Bob whispering to Thingumy, "Nake no totice!" So your post brought them to mind. That's a nice (if incomplete) plot summary at the Wiki.
Posted by: The Modesto Kid | Friday, 30 January 2009 at 12:35 PM
There was a Bruce Sterling short story in which a Swedish nationalist fringe group have hired some international mercenaries to take over an island as a illegal banking center, or something, and the whole thing depends on financing to be obtained by the slick-talking protagonist obtaining the rights to something like the Moomintrolls for making children's toys out of them. Or at least that's how I remember it. The plot is foiled when the kindly grandmother who wrote the Moomintrolls (or whoever their fictionalized equivalent is) is called away unexpectedly before they arrive and leaves milk and cookies for them instead of meeting them.
Posted by: Rich Puchalsky | Friday, 30 January 2009 at 12:38 PM
Wow, any idea which of Sterling's books that one is in? Sounds like fun. (Note that Tove Jansson, author of the Moomin books, doesn't really fit the kindly Swedish grandmother stereotype very well. But it makes sense for a fictionalized counterpart.)
Posted by: The Modesto Kid | Friday, 30 January 2009 at 01:11 PM
It's "The Littlest Jackal", in A Good Old-Fashioned Future. On skimming it I see that it was Finnish nationalist terrorists, not Swedes. Note though that it's not actually fun; it's sometimes absurd, but in a quite depressing way.
Posted by: Rich Puchalsky | Friday, 30 January 2009 at 01:52 PM
see, "blue movie" section of tlooth by harry mathews.
Posted by: billy | Friday, 30 January 2009 at 09:51 PM
Sorry, I don't lick on strange clinks (or is that Klink, as in Colonel?).
Posted by: David R. Block | Monday, 02 February 2009 at 04:07 PM