Pronouncing Sandoval

While reacquainting myself with the classic At Folsom Prison album by Johnny Cash, something grabbed my interest. I doubt that I noticed this particularly interesting item way back when I was a kid listening to my father's copy of this album, but, if I did, I probably didn't think about it too much.

What I find interesting is in the bit just after the song "The Long Black Veil". If you are not familiar with At Folsom Prison, it was recorded live during a concert in a prison, the actual Folsom State Prison in California. And Folsom did not shut down for Johnny Cash's concert. It kept on operating. In the background during some of the songs you can hear bells ringing (as secure doors are opened, I presume), and in between songs prison officials make any necessary announcements for the prisoners. In the recording I have isolated below, one official calls for a prisoner to go to another section.

He says the name twice, pronouncing it with a Spanish emphasis and an English "a". Then he spells out the name. And then he pronounces it once again, this time with an Anglicized emphasis.

That's curious. Why did he feel the need to call out the name with two different pronunciations and emphasis? It's obvious that the announcement was intended for the ears of the prisoner named Sandoval, but was it a widespread practice in California back in the 1960s (when the album was recorded) to pronounce Spanish names with an English phonology, as the prison official did the last time? Would a Hispanic person back then expect to hear san-DO-vul rather than SAN-do-val, and the official was just making sure the announcement wasn't missed? Or was the official simply unsure if he was pronouncing it correctly in the first place, so he covered his bases?

In places that are heavily Hispanic, like San Antonio, Spanish surnames are all over the place, and even white guys like me know how to pronounce them. Some people have problems with ényes and double-r trills (one girl I knew pronounced her name "Aguirre" as uh-Gary because she couldn't trill for the life of her), but the generally accepted practice is to use Spanish phonology with Spanish names, even if you are speaking English. Is it different in California, or was it merely different back then and that's not the case today? I don't know, because I'm not from California, and I haven't been in prison. But I am genuinely curious.

Best headline of the day

"Why Is Our Solar System Such a Cosmic Weirdo?"

(from Space.com)

What I just finished reading

Dragon's Egg
Robert L. Forward
1980

I read this book on a recommendation from Alan at Blogonomicon. It's a work of hard science fiction, which means it portrays situations based on real scientific principles and theories rather than "soft", magic-like science that gives you convenient plot devices such as transporters, warp drives, and midichlorians. Hard science books don't always make for the best of stories, but they are usually very interesting anyway. As long as they are well written and don't read like textbooks.

Dragon's Egg certainly doesn't read like a text book, but it is also not the most exciting of tales. It tells the story of a neutron star upon which life has formed. The dominant animal species on Dragon's Egg (the name of the star) is the cheela, and they live at a highly accelerated rate compared to humans.

As the neutron star approaches our solar system in 2050, a human science expedition is launched to study it. As the humans map the the star they make the startling discovery that there is a civilization on the surface, one that is capable of building large structures. The cheela take notice of the human space craft in the sky, and eventually they work out a system of messaging that allows them to communicate in a clunky way. (The human messages appear very slow and drawn out to the cheela, and the cheela messages have to be slowed down by a computer for the humans to understand them.)

The humans transmit as much information as they can to the cheela, including the entire contents of an encyclopedia. Even though it takes the humans dozens of hours to transmit all this data, to the cheela it is several lifetimes. In the course of one day, the humans observe the cheela as they absorb human knowledge, grow from a clan society to one of empire, and fianlly  take to the stars, surpassing even the humans in their knowledge of the universe. The cheela even give back some of what they have learned, which proves to be beyond the comprehension of their human friends.

Very heady stuff. But it's easy to read, too. You don't need a degree in astrophysics to appreciate the theories explored in this book (though it might help), and many of the cheela characters are interesting in their own right, despite being little blobs with twelve eyes. But, in all, the story is not compelling, and the human characters are virtually faceless despite the author's attempt to flesh them out. We see many generations of development in the cheela, but nothing really happens on board the science ship except the gathering of data and the transmission of information. There's a bit of drama involving some equipment work outside the ship, but it doesn't last long, and there's no real sense of urgency in the episode. In short, this is a story of the cheela, and the humans are there just as a framework.

If you are interested in how the universe works (as I am), you will probably enjoy reading this book (as I did). But if your sci-fi fare tends to run toward Star Wars or Battle Star Galactica (either incarnation will do), you might want to steer clear of Dragon's Egg.

The Mouse's Conquest

Yes, you've heard about the takeover. Now it's complete, and official. I have gathered the proof today.

The Empire has fallen. To the ---- uh, Evil Empire.

Soooo, ---- maybe it won't be so bad?

Thinking alike

Well, hush my mouth and call me corn pone.

Remember back in December when I argued that Peter Parker, a.k.a. Spider-Man, was needlessly living the life of a poor man because he should be using his genius for the greater good? And getting rich while doing it, thereby supporting his poor aunt and his wife?

Back then, I said this:

Those are web shooters, and Parker invented them when he was just a teenager. This is a remarkable invention, combining a completely engineered synthetic substance with precise mechanical operations  to allow the user to SHOOT WEBS!!!  Strong, sticky webs that can be dissolved at a precisely determined time.

WHAT!?!

Why is this invention not being used for all kinds of practical applications right now? The executives at 3M would have a field day with this! Or, they would spend all kinds of resources trying to woo the person who created these astounding gadgets to come work for them. Why doesn't Peter Parker go to work for such a company -- or even try to take it over -- and become wealthy so that he doesn't have to worry about where he will get the basic necessities of life? Why doesn't he invent other things and sell the patents so that he and his loved ones can live a comfortable life while he fights crime in his spare time?

I still stand by that sentiment. But, as the ol' Good Book says, there is nothing new under the sun. Those comic wizards at Cracked just came to the same conclusion, except they did it in a much cooler and funnier way. And I'm sure they got paid for it, too.

(Jump to 3:27)

4 Reasons Spider-Man is Secretly Bad at His Job -- powered by Cracked.com

You're an astute man, Michael Swaim. Astute.

Preparing to read

I finally received that book that I ordered on recommendation from Alan at Blogonomicon. I've just started on it, so I don't have any opinion to share, yet. But here's what the book looks like: 

Dragon's Egg
Robert Forward
1980

 This book must be out of print, because I could not find any copies on Amazon labeled "new" that were less than $19.00, and all of the other copies available were from third-party sources (with new paperbacks starting at $10.49). So I found a hardcover from some obscure book seller that came out to only $5.09, including shipping, and I ordered it.

Here's what I got in the mail:

 Look like any particular kind of book to you? Like, maybe a library book? Awesome, because that's what it is! An old library book!

















My copy of Dragon's Egg by Robert Forward is a discard from the public library in Manchester, Connecticut. That's kind of cool, I guess. I've never gotten such a deal on a hardcover book that didn't come from a yard sale or from Half Price Books, and I'm glad I got this one. But I wasn't expecting to see a library book show up on my front porch.

And, bonus surprise? The branch library's name:

Yep, the colonial city of Manchester apparently has all of two branches in its library system, and one of them happens to be named after Dick Cheney's daughter, Mary.

No real connection to anything the book is about, but something quite interesting to notice, anyway.

Now, on to the reading ......

Two things I ordered today

Both came from recommendations from blog buddies.

This:

On a recommendation from the South Texas Pistolero at Live from the Alamo City. (Downloaded and ready to listen to tomorrow on my way to work.)



And this:

On a recommendation from AlanDP at Blogonomicon. (Ordered, awaiting delivery.)


I've got some listening to do and some reading to do. Check back with you later when I have something to report.

What I just finished reading

Dune
Frank Herbert
1965

Well, I finally finished Dune. It took me a while, not because it was a long book (though it is) but rather because I've just been so durned busy I've found it hard to find any time at all for recreational reading. But when I could carve out a little time here and there I read it with gusto because it is such a great book.

But you know what? I didn't quite remember how it had ended, and when I finally got to the end I was a little disappointed. For all of the superb writing that Frank Herbert puts into this masterpiece the last couple of pages seem rather anti-climactic. There's no real denouement to the story. It just builds to the final duel with Feyd-Rautha, and then it just kinda ends. That's it. Just, the story's over. This epic space drama has been unfolding for 794 pages, and then the final confrontation takes place and ---- roll credits. No real resolution for the grand tale, no tidying up of loose ends, no release of pent up tension. Just a quick "The End", and that's it.



But I can forgive this abruptness. This is a wonderful tale, and definitely the best of Herbert's works. If you are any fan of science fiction and you haven't yet read Dune, well, get busy! You won't be sorry.


Next up: Dragon's Egg. When I can get to the book store. Alan assures me it's a good read.

Pondering an unusual absence on Dune

Well, I'm in the midst of re-reading Dune, one of my favorite books of all time. It has been a while since I last read it, so I'm finding I didn't remember it as well as I thought I did. Some of the scenes I don't remember, and some of them are playing out differently than I recall. Which makes for a very good read. I'm having a ball.

Frank Herbert was at the height of his talents while producing this work, and I appreciate the intricacies of the plot and the focus in his style. I also love the richness of the universe he has created, and the hard purpose of the characters as they struggle for existence on a barely habitable planet.

But for all of Herbert's grand concepts that he sets forth in Dune (terraforming, galactic politics, the metaphorical and literal power of language, etc.), as well as the barely workable ideas he explores (ornithopters, glow globes, still tents, and the like), I find that he left out one very important detail, one that seems as obvious as it is absent.

I'm talking about sunglasses.

They are not to be found anywhere in Dune. It seems almost a given that people on Arrakis would protect their eyes from the ruthless sun, but instead Herbert goes to great pains to show how exposed everyone's eyes are. The eyes -- and their colorations -- even become a dominant theme in the story. A prolonged existence on the planet and the resultant exposure to the all-present and all-important spice causes a physical change that results in a blue color throughout the scleras and irises of the eyes. The native Fremen have deep blue-on-blue eyes, and newcomers to the planet have traditional eye colorings that eventually become bluer with the passage of time on the planet.


Herbert exposes the characters' eyes to show how the amount of blue can be seen as an indication of status. In fact, that's often the only body part showing on the Fremen, who are covered in stillsuits, masks, and robes. The deep blue of the Fremen eyes shows that this is a people who have consumed spice in their diet for all of their lives. In contrast, the lightly tinged blue eyes of the smugglers show these people are supplementing their food with off-world fare. And the stark white scleras of Stilgar's prisoners alert him to the possibility that they may be dangerous, that they might be spies or assassins from off world.

And I would think it would be newly arrived spies and assassins that would want to cover their eyes most of all, to not stand out in a crowd. And what's the easiest way to do that? Sunglasses.

 And I can't see how anyone on Arrakis would begrudge anyone else the habit of wearing shades on such a bright planet.

But Herbert didn't see it that way, apparently. He relishes his descriptions of the eyes, and he treasures the way characters respond to each others gazes. Perhaps he did think about including eye coverings but then thought better of it to show how important it was to see the variations in colorings. Perhaps he thought true desert people don't need shades. Or perhaps the thought never even occurred to him. I'm not sure what it is, but I found it a bit jarring when I suddenly realized that all these people on this desert planet were squinting for no good reason. All they needed was a pair of shades.


Later, when I finish the book, I might give a little review. But, for now, sunglasses.

What I just finished reading

The Ringworld Engineers
Larry Niven
1980

This is the second book in the Ringworld series, The Ringworld Engineers. Last month I re-read the original Ringworld after many years, and I did a post about it after reading it. In that post I noted that I liked the book more on the second reading because I already knew the complicated storyline and could focus more on enjoying the storytelling itself. And the same is true for The Ringworld Engineers: I enjoy it much more this time.

In this book, Louis Wu and Speaker-to-Animals (now named Chmeee) are kidnapped by the deposed leader of the Pierson's Puppeteers. This leader is known as The Hindmost, and he is determined to regain his title and position by recovering a fabulous machine from the Ringworld and bringing it back to his society. The Hindmost knows all about the adventures Louis and Chmeee had on the Ringworld because he is the mate to Nessus, the puppeteer who accompanied them on their previous journey. So he kidnaps Louis and Chmeee and forces them to go with him to the Ringworld and find his treasure.

They ultimately fail, but you can hardly blame them. For one, it seems that the incredible machine the Hindmost seeks is a fiction, after all. For two, the Ringworld itself is in danger of crashing into the sun. For three, they are trapped on the Ringworld.

Need I say that adventures ensue?

Some time back, while reading Asimov's Foundation again, I mentioned that I like to cast the characters in a work of fiction that I read. It gives me something to focus on as I read the dialogue and actions. While reading Ringworld I didn't worry too much about casting the characters because most of them were alien. The Puppeteer, the kzin, the various hominids on the Ringworld -- I didn't have too many human actors I could put in their roles. Even the character of Louis Wu is presented as incredibly old but not looking too old because of boosterspice, and though he is of Asian descent he is described as having lost any hint of Asian features due to many, many generations of interbreeding. So his appearance was difficult to visualize.

But for The Ringworld Engineers, I thought I would at least try. So, since Louis Wu is supposed to look youngish despite his 200-plus years, I decided to cast Grant Imahara in his role. I know Imahara is not really an actor, but it worked for me, and it livened up Louis's dialogue perfectly.

Chmeee is still a kzin, so I could imagine nothing more than a great big angry orange cat. And the Hindmost is a puppeteer. Good luck with visualizing that.

The other humanish characters I had a better time with. Since I had already used one person from MythBusters in my cast, I went ahead and cast Kari Byron as Valavirgillin. And then I went local and pictured Natalie Tejeda as Harkabeeparolyn. The boy Kawaresksenjajok I couldn't put a finger on, and I couldn't help visualizing a kid I knew in middle school and high school. (It would be pointless to share his name with you; you wouldn't be able to picture him anyway.) The other characters flit in and out of the story, and they are not there long enough to bother with casting, so I just pictured them in general, "that guy" kind of visualizations.

Next up, eventually, I plan to re-read The Ringworld Throne. But not just yet. I might re-read something else instead, just to do something different. Maybe Dune.

A name I noticed on someone's name tag

"Guru".

There it was, right there on his name tag. That guy I saw working the register at the gas station is named, apparently, Guru.

I know that name tags can be ordered with just about any name (or close approximation). All you need is a boss whose willing to play along with the joke and absorb the cost of one name tag. But wouldn't it be cool if that wasn't a joke, if he really is a "Guru"? If he really is the guru of the gas station?

One thing I hate

The Wilhelm scream.



It's no longer clever. It's annoying. It sticks out like a massive, swollen thumb. And it makes an otherwise good movie slightly less good, in my book.

I wish I would never hear it in another movie again.

What I just finished reading

Ringworld
Larry Niven
1970

I first read this book several years ago, and though I found it very enjoyable at the time it was a little difficult to get my head wrapped around it at first. The story is loaded with fantastical aliens, technological wonders, and gargantuan concepts, and Larry Niven's writing style is full of subtlety. (Just when you've unraveled an elaborate description of an alien form and gotten a mental image of what it's supposed to look like, you've already read over a character's head nod or grunting comprehension of something that happened a few pages back. And many times, just to make sure you know what's going on, you have to back up and re-read a paragraph or ten.)

I did a lot of re-reading the first time around.

This time, though, I already knew the story line, and I was already familiar with the characters and their quirks, so I could relax and enjoy the story itself.

And it's a great read. Niven's subtleties are wonderful once you know what's happening, and I was able to grasp much more without having to go back over what I had already read.

If you've never heard of this book -- or never read it -- here's a brief synopsis:

It's many years in the future, and humanity has made contact and established relationships with several sentient and sapient species. Louis Wu is a man of advanced age (still healthy because of boosterspice) who grows bored with the world and travels space from time to time. He's approached by an alien of odd appearance from a species called the Pierson's Puppeteers. These beings are highly advanced, but they value cowardice above all other traits. Louis is convinced by this Puppeteer (named Nessus) to embark upon an exploration trip with a young human woman and an alien named Speaker to Animals, a member of a savage, warlike species called the Kzin (picture Klingons as giant, humanoid cats).

Louis, the woman (named Teela Brown), Nessus, and Speaker travel to explore the Ringworld, a massive structure discovered by the Puppeteers. It is an artificial world encircling a star at about the distance of a planet's orbit. It rotates around the sun, providing artificial gravity to anything on its surface.

It's huge. Very, very huge.

In the course of their exploration, the team's ship suffers a failure and crash-lands on the surface of the Ringworld, damaged so badly they cannot take off again.

Adventures ensue.

This is the first in a series of four books, and I've read them all. It's a very good story cycle, though a bit bizarre at times with subtle humor and understated terror. I plan on reading the next book, The Ringworld Engineers, very soon now. If and when I do, I will let you know my impression of that one the second time around.

Now that I know what's going on.

Getting loose with it

Oh my word.



(hat tip: Cracked)

Slapping the musicians

Here's another tale of unintended consequences that could alter the face of the music industry.

Why seize guitars? Because many of those instruments are made from exotic woods that were outlawed by a 2008 amendment to the Lacey Act, an amendment Alexander himself wrote.

In 2008, [Senator Lamar] Alexander and fellow Sen. Ron Wyden, D-Wash., moved to protect the American forest products industry by adding wood to the century-old Lacey Act – which was passed to protect endangered birds, whose feathers were prized for ladies’ hats.

American timber companies were being unfairly undercut by foreign sources of wood, many of which were illegally logged. Environmental groups also supported the amendment for curbing illegal logging in rainforests by imposing criminal penalties for trading in endangered species of wood.

It was that same amendment that led federal agents to raid the factories of Gibson Guitars in 2009 and again in 2011 – raids in which substantial quantities of musical instrument-grade wood were seized. It also ignited a firestorm of fear among musicians that the feds could come gunning for their instruments, unless they had extensive documentation on when the guitar was made and where the wood was from.

After pointed questions from Rep. Marsha Blackburn, R-Tenn., and other lawmakers, the U.S. Department of Justice and the Fish and Wildlife Service sent a letter assuring musicians that they would not be targeted for “unknowingly” possessing instruments that were manufactured from illegal wood. [emphasis added]

(from Fox News)

A letter. How nice.

If you are a musician, would you trust them? Senator Alexander says he wants to "fix" the amended Lacey Act to ensure that musicians or instrument makers are not affected, but that seems to be too little, too late, and not nearly reassuring enough after Gibson has already been RAIDED BY THE GOVERNMENT!

TWICE!

That's mind-boggling.

If you are a serious musician, then you probably already know about this issue. If you are any kind of musician at all and haven't heard about the amended Lacey Act, then you should learn what you can. It might actually affect you in the long run.

For what it's worth, the instruments I have are cheap enough that I'm confident they don't contain any of the banned wood.

Confident. But not 100 percent sure.

Thinking about the "rules" of English

I like Cracked.com. I like it because it's a funny website, and it has flashes of brilliance that make me want to always read more. And (because I love the English language so much) it's especially entertaining and gratifying to find in the article titled "7 Commonly Corrected Grammar Errors (That Aren't Mistakes)" this bit of observation ...

What we've done here is gotten right down into the trenches of a war between prescriptivist grammarians and descriptivist grammarians -- a conflict which, no matter how boring you think it sounds, is actually 10 times more boring than that. Just to give you a tiny glimpse of that boredom, I'll briefly describe both sides, probably unfairly:

Prescriptivists document the rules of grammar, and sometimes, when no one's looking, make them up entirely. They also feel the need to enforce the rules of grammar, and in particular advocate that these rules and definitions shouldn't change. They argue this for a variety of reasons, but those usually boil down to "Otherwise, civilization will evaporate into an orgy of orgy-themed game shows and fad diets that consist entirely of eating each other's flesh."

Descriptivists also document the rules of grammar, but don't particularly care when they're violated, because fuck rules, man. And if the rules ever do change, descriptivists simply shrug and write down the new ones. They point out that civilization has never collapsed during any of the previous changes to English grammar, and indeed has even managed to excel -- giving us advances like polio vaccines, color television and sexting.

... illustrated by this:

 Chris Bucholz nails the definitions and differences between prescriptivists and descriptivists in that passage, and he rightly points out that it's largely a pointless conflict that only grammarians really care about. And he does so with generic model photos and his interpretation of cartoon background noise.

What's not to love?

The Twelve Caesars - page 28, Julius Caesar

As [Julius Caesar] stood, in two minds, an apparition of superhuman size and beauty was seen sitting on the river bank playing a reed pipe. A party of shepherds gathered around to listen and, when some of Caesar's men, including some of the trumpeters, broke ranks to do the same, the apparition snatched a trumpet from one of them, ran down to the river, blew a thunderous blast, and crossed over. Caesar exclaimed: 'Let us accept this as a sign from the Gods, and follow where they beckon, in vengeance on our double-dealing enemies. The die is cast.'


This, of course, is the famous crossing of the River Rubicon, the historical border of Rome beyond which generals could not take their standing armies on pain of death. By crossing this boundary with his soldiers, Julius Caesar was committing an act of treason that was fully punishable by Roman law, and the only way to escape execution was for Caesar to depose the current government and seize control for himself. It was, quite literally, a point of no return.

Famously, Caesar did cross the Rubicon (apparently at the urging of an impetuous, musical ghost). He won Rome, set up an empire, proclaimed himself perpetual dictator, and became a force that would shape the development of Western civilization. And, in the process, he also coined a succinct and useful phrase that thrives even today.

What I finished reading recently

Something Wicked This Way Comes
Ray Bradbury
1962

It's been ages since I last read this book, possibly even since I was a child. And though I generally like Ray Bradbury (and count The Martian Chronicles as one of the most influential science fiction books I have read) I remember not liking this particular book very much when I read it in the past. So, when I found this copy in an old box while doing some recent cleaning, I decided to give it another try.

And you know what? I wasn't disappointed. In fact, I liked it better this time around. Maybe it's because I'm older and I'm a father myself, so I can relate a little better to the father/son dynamic that is core to the story. Or maybe it's because I've developed my reading skills over the years and can appreciate Bradbury's turns of phrase more. Whatever the reason, I really found Something Wicked This Way Comes far more entertaining as an adult than I did as a child.

Also, I saw the movie based on this book back when it came out in 1983, and I remember not being impressed by it, especially after I was completely enthralled by the TV mini-series version of The Martian Chronicles. I think I was initially put off by the casting of Will and Jim, the main characters of the story. In the novel, the boys are thirteen years old, going on fourteen. But in the movie they are more like nine or ten years old. That's a big difference in boy years, and I don't think the younger versions of Will and Jim fit the story very well. After that initial disappointment, I don't think I was willing to give the rest of the movie a chance.

But, I admit that I could see it in a different light these days, just like with the novel. I think I should give that movie another try. Perhaps.

Maybe I will watch it with my son.

The Twelve Caesars - page 300, Domitian

Domitian pretended to be extremely modest, and though he displayed a novel devotion to poetry, which he would read aloud in public, his enthusiasm was matched by a later neglect and contempt of the art.


Who knew the ancient Romans had poetry slams?

Blending philosophy and nativity

Hover text: I think you could get up to about 11:59:57 before you'd have trouble swallowing the chocolates fast enough. At that point, you'd need some kind of a liquify-and-chug apparatus to get up over the 11:59:59 barrier. Anyway, Merry Christmas!

Yes, a Merry XKCD Christmas to you all!

(Click here for more Zeno info.)