Politics, Technology, and Language

If thought corrupts language, language can also corrupt thought — George Orwell

Archive for November 18th, 2006

Can you really say “vulva” in a newspaper?

Posted by metaphorical on 18 November 2006

 I have right here in my hot little hands that actually aren’t all that little and are only slightly warm at the moment a brand new lick-ready smooth-as-love Apple MacBook Pro Core 2 Duo Super Orgasm Deluxe Ultrahard Modern Computing Device Designed by God Herself Somewhere in the Deep Moist Vulva of Cupertino Yes Yes Don’t Stop Oh My God Yes.

 Does that sound like idiotic gushing? Like undue praise for what amounts to just another dumb computer that has its share of flaws and glitches and armies of sneering übergeek detractors on Slashdot? Once again, I do not really care. Because like it or not, Apple has actually managed something quite radical for a tech company: They have not merely changed the world, they have actually improved it. Oh yes they have.
— the SF Gate’s Mark Morford sings Apple’s praises, apparently with the entire 16th Street Baptist Choir behind him, in When Apple Rules The World

Damn, that’s some fine writing.

Oh, and my shiny MacBook 2.0 GHz Core 2 Duo arrives from China on Tuesday, not that I’ve been tracking it or anything.

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Twyla Thwunk

Posted by metaphorical on 18 November 2006

Twyla Tharp’s Dylan show is closing the end of this month. Good riddance.

While her Billy Joel show was pointless fluff, this one really bothered — and baffled — me. Is it really possible that Tharp lived through the eras in which the songs were written, and has her eyes open today, and came up with the show she did?

When you think about the 1960s and 1970s, and you think about 2006, do you really think a traveling circus, or, I don’t know, maybe Iraq?

When you hear songs like “A hard rain’s a-gonna fall” in 2006 do you really think about domestic violence or Iraq?

When you hear lyrics like

My weariness amazes me, I’m branded on my feet,
I have no one to meet
And the ancient empty street’s too dead for dreaming.

or

Searchin’ high, searchin’ low
Searchin’ everywhere I know
Askin’ the cops wherever I go
Have you seen dignity?

or

The savage soldier sticks his head in sand
And then complains
Unto the shoeless hunter who’s gone deaf
But still remains
Upon the beach where hound dogs bay
At ships with tattooed sails
Heading for the Gates of Eden

do you really think about a love triangle between a father, his
girlfriend, and his son, or Iraq?

When you pair up the two lyrics

Yes, ‘n’ how many times must the cannon balls fly
Before they’re forever banned?

and

Yes, ‘n’ how many years can some people exist
Before they’re allowed to be free?

do you think about lions and elephants and the flying trapeze, or — I’m just spitballin’ here — the central dilemma facing the American people as we enter the fourth year in Iraq?

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