What in the hell …

Okay so I know I said I wasn’t fucking around anymore but sometimes I can’t help it, too often actually but I’d like to think that some of this sometimes is good for me and not in just a letting off steam sort of way but in a makes me a little smarter in a way kind of way. If you click on that second link, or if you read that post already, you will know I recently discovered garden path sentences. I think these are great, and/but they make my head hurt.

I decided to try to write one that contained global ambiguity (I learned this term today, here’s an example - “I know more scientists than Stephen Hawking,” this could mean either “I know scientists in addition to Stephen Hawking” or “I know more scientists than Stephen Hawking,” without additional context each interpretation is equally correct), and that referenced garden path sentences. Here’s what I came up with:

“The sentence led up the garden path made me very happy, more than my high school English teacher.”

This one isn’t self-referential, but I still like it.

The novel proved to be written by Calvino in a month was eaten by bookworms.

That one works, I think. I think it works… ambiguity because “in a month” could qualify “proved”, “written” or “eaten.” Garden path because of “was eaten by book worms.” It’d be funnier with “just like my high school English teacher” at the end.

I would now like one that contains a pun about the word “sentence”, one that references (either explicitly or more subtly) the Borges story “The Garden of Forking Paths” (which I should read again, because I don’t remember much except the title) - preferably this one will also contain a pun or some other joke of some sort, and one that begins with the phrase “What in the hell.” I’m not sure that last one is possible.

I’m not working on any of this tonight though cuz it’s late and I gotta walk my dog and really above all because that one I wrote made my brain feel tired and knotted.

Question: are garden path sentences paraprosdokians, or just sort of like them?

So I finally finished my dumb damn post about ch24 of Capital 1 - with a whimper not a bang. Christ. That took forfuckingever and a half. Ugh.

It didn’t help that I kept careening in various other directions (more…)

A few blogs I occasionally read treat comments in a way that I don’t understand. To be blunt, they allow asshole behavior of all sorts among the comments. In an in-person discussion this stuff would undermine people’s ability to have an intellectually productive discussion. The same is basically true online. In person, most folk would eventually tell these folk to shut the fuck up, or would go elsewhere to have the conversation. Why this doesn’t happen more often online is beyond me, when it’s so easy - delete and edit the asshole comments. Easy peasy. It’s particularly weird because some of the people who run these blogs teach for a living, a job which requires people in the classroom to occasionally do what I’m suggesting. Ugh.

Over time I’ve sort of started fucking around more with the blog, making dumb jokes and so on. That’s cool with me, it can be fun. At the same time, I’ve started to feel like some of the stuff I’ve spent my time on that doesn’t feel like it’s fucking around, like that stuff really is just fucking around. I need to reassess a bit, methinks. Fucking around, great. Not fucking around, great. Trying to do (and initially thinking one is doing) the second while ACTUALLY doing the first, unforgivable. The worst part is when the fucking around and the not-thinking-I’m-fucking-around-when-really-I’m-just-fucking-around eats time for stuff that is genuinely not fucking around and that I genuinely want to engage with. ARGH.

And I still gotta finish that damn post on ch24 of v1 of Capital. ARGH again.

In other news, I’ve started trying to read for enjoyment when taking the bus to work. Weird, eh? I’m rereading If On A Winter’s Night A Traveler again, because once again I find that reading and I are less in love than we used to be (it’s not you, reading, it’s me). This time I’m reading the book out of order - I’m reading the numbered chapters all in a row, then I’m going to go back and re-read the interrupted novel passages all in a row. Then, who knows, maybe read it again cover to cover. Or not.

So there’s this online interbloggist reading group we’re gonna have on ch25 of v1 of Capital, one of these weeks. One of the cool tricks is this aggregator of posts thing. Problem is, it aggregates posts based on having the word “Marx” in the title. Several of my posts recently have had that in the title, but haven’t been part of the reading group. Sorry everyone. My fault. I’ll try to remember to start using a euphemism for Marx in post titles, so as to stop spamming y’all in the reading group.

During my baby induced blogging hiatus I thought a lot about the blog, in part because the blog is a bit of a habit and stopping or suspending a habit usually leads me to think about (but only sometimes to reflect on) that habit. One of the things I thought I’d like to do is to write regularly about parenting. I’ve gotten more comfortable over time talking about my personal life and so on here but remain a bit hesitant for whatever reason. Anyway, I want write more about being a dad. For now the plan is to sometimes just set a fifteen minute timer (literally if necessary) and free write about parenting. (more…)

hi all,
I’m pleased as punch and twice as proud to report that my baby was born early Monday/late Sunday. I’m home from my job for 2-3 weeks and will be doing full time fatherin’ and husbandin’, and no bloggin’. Back after that. I’d upload a photo but I can’t get it to work. Most of y’all got my facebook info, check that out if you want to see my little bundle of awesome.
hearts,
Nate

I was all set to write this post (by “all set” I mean I had my titular phrase and some rough ideas to bounce around) and then I totally got derailed by the following sequence of events: I mistyped the post’s title at first as “What’s a metaphor?” then was struck by the idea that there has to be some pun that could be made here, then I was stymied by my inability to come up with one. Now I’m having trouble remembering what the ideas I even had were.

Curses.

What’s a metaphor? (more…)