Haven't broken out the bitchface diva in a while.
I can't believe the Matrix thingy is posted. It's kind of a big thing for me -- my first real fic with a beginning, a middle and an end -- so I'm still kind of ridiculously excited. It was fun to write too, although I still wish a little that I had written it more independently of the actual movie, but the Brothers Way bits makes up for it. Bee accused me of being a "broyay sap". *g*
I want to write some more -- I have ideas! Scenes! Things! -- but alas, I have theoretical linguistics to study for.
"For two phones to contrast meanings, there must be some phonetic difference between them. The minimal pairs seal [sil] and zeal [zil] show that [s] and [z] represent two contrasting phonemes in English. They cannot be allophones of one phoneme because one cannot replace the [s] with the [z] without changing the meaning of the word. Furthermore, they are not in complementary distribution; both occur word initially before the vowel [i]. They are therefore allophones of the two different phonemes /s/ and /z/."
Fun, huh? Yeah. *sigh* Only four billion pages to go. Is it weird that I actually look forward to the exercises? Bleh.
On the upside:
I CAUGHT this morning morning’s minion, king-
dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate’s heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird,-the achieve of; the mastery of the thing!
Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!
No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermillion.
Victorian poets? Can get it right sometimes. Damn, Hopkins. Also, another plus: turns out I may not hate The Great Gatsby as much as I thought I did. I sat down and read about 70 pages of it today in the library and I quite liked it, actually. Much more than I did in high school. Times do change.
I miss my sister. And my nephews. Isn't it Christmas yet?
I want to write some more -- I have ideas! Scenes! Things! -- but alas, I have theoretical linguistics to study for.
"For two phones to contrast meanings, there must be some phonetic difference between them. The minimal pairs seal [sil] and zeal [zil] show that [s] and [z] represent two contrasting phonemes in English. They cannot be allophones of one phoneme because one cannot replace the [s] with the [z] without changing the meaning of the word. Furthermore, they are not in complementary distribution; both occur word initially before the vowel [i]. They are therefore allophones of the two different phonemes /s/ and /z/."
Fun, huh? Yeah. *sigh* Only four billion pages to go. Is it weird that I actually look forward to the exercises? Bleh.
On the upside:
I CAUGHT this morning morning’s minion, king-
dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate’s heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird,-the achieve of; the mastery of the thing!
Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!
No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermillion.
Victorian poets? Can get it right sometimes. Damn, Hopkins. Also, another plus: turns out I may not hate The Great Gatsby as much as I thought I did. I sat down and read about 70 pages of it today in the library and I quite liked it, actually. Much more than I did in high school. Times do change.
I miss my sister. And my nephews. Isn't it Christmas yet?