Well I just heard the news today/ seems like the world is gonna change
When I was younger, still in school, I would, on occasion, oracle with myself.
I'd think, for example, "If I see at least three people in wheelchairs on my way to school, I'll ace that Latin exam." Or, "If at least five red cars pass me on my way home, there will be a letter waiting for me." Or, "If I win three rounds of this game in a row, Germany will win the soccer world cup."
To the best of my memory it always worked: There were four old ladies in wheelchairs, and I'd ace the exam. There were ten red cars, and sure enough there was a letter - so what if it was only the dentistry bill? I never managed to win three rounds in a row, and the German team didn't even reach the finals.
Of course one might debate endlessly whether I wouldn't have aced that exam anyway in that case, or whether having seen the four wheelchairs I just had the confidence I needed in order not to blackout, or whatever - at any rate the oracling worked. And naturally I know (and knew then) that it is highly improbably that the result of my game has any influence whatsoever on the results of a soccer world cup far away.
Still, yesterday evening I horacled with myself: if I can actually arse myself to reach at least 10,000 words this night, Obama will be the new President. How's that for motivation?
I went to bed at 10,078 words, and woke up to the news that although they hadn't yet tallied all the votes, it was already clear that Obama had won.
Joy. JOY. Thank you, Americans, for doing what I - in my totally not humble and somewhat biased opinion - consider the right thing.
Next up: NaNoing for World Peace. ;)
Also, I am disproportionally amused that Obama kind of paraphrased Fëanor. HAH.
10,078 / 50,000
(20.2%)
- - -
In completely unrelated news, we've had to plough our way through a really difficult piece of early 16th century printmanship. Yes, it was not in fact the words that were difficult, but the way they'd been composed. The editor had used all kinds of nasty little abbreviations, and with the generally unnormatised spelling, that made things very hard to decipher.
Our professor professed (hah!) his surprise that I was able to read it fairly fluently anyway, and commented that I had obviously done this before.
I haven't actually. It's just that many of the abbreviations are a lot like what you'd do in Sindarin. *coughs*
...
Quote of the Day:
(So we are reading this Early Modern English sermon with the evil abbreviations and chaotic spelling and odd typeface, which is basically the bishop of Rochester bitching against Martin Luther)
Student: "... by assignment of the most reverend father in God the lord, Thomas Cardinal of Pork..."
I think we are never going to get rid of that mental image. For the rest of the semester, poor Wolsey will be the Cardinal of Pork.
(The Y does look a bit like a P - well, more like a Wynn, in fact - but this, I think, is one of the cases where the context should make the reading clear.)
I'd think, for example, "If I see at least three people in wheelchairs on my way to school, I'll ace that Latin exam." Or, "If at least five red cars pass me on my way home, there will be a letter waiting for me." Or, "If I win three rounds of this game in a row, Germany will win the soccer world cup."
To the best of my memory it always worked: There were four old ladies in wheelchairs, and I'd ace the exam. There were ten red cars, and sure enough there was a letter - so what if it was only the dentistry bill? I never managed to win three rounds in a row, and the German team didn't even reach the finals.
Of course one might debate endlessly whether I wouldn't have aced that exam anyway in that case, or whether having seen the four wheelchairs I just had the confidence I needed in order not to blackout, or whatever - at any rate the oracling worked. And naturally I know (and knew then) that it is highly improbably that the result of my game has any influence whatsoever on the results of a soccer world cup far away.
Still, yesterday evening I horacled with myself: if I can actually arse myself to reach at least 10,000 words this night, Obama will be the new President. How's that for motivation?
I went to bed at 10,078 words, and woke up to the news that although they hadn't yet tallied all the votes, it was already clear that Obama had won.
Joy. JOY. Thank you, Americans, for doing what I - in my totally not humble and somewhat biased opinion - consider the right thing.
Next up: NaNoing for World Peace. ;)
Also, I am disproportionally amused that Obama kind of paraphrased Fëanor. HAH.
10,078 / 50,000
(20.2%)
- - -
In completely unrelated news, we've had to plough our way through a really difficult piece of early 16th century printmanship. Yes, it was not in fact the words that were difficult, but the way they'd been composed. The editor had used all kinds of nasty little abbreviations, and with the generally unnormatised spelling, that made things very hard to decipher.
Our professor professed (hah!) his surprise that I was able to read it fairly fluently anyway, and commented that I had obviously done this before.
I haven't actually. It's just that many of the abbreviations are a lot like what you'd do in Sindarin. *coughs*
...
Quote of the Day:
(So we are reading this Early Modern English sermon with the evil abbreviations and chaotic spelling and odd typeface, which is basically the bishop of Rochester bitching against Martin Luther)
Student: "... by assignment of the most reverend father in God the lord, Thomas Cardinal of Pork..."
I think we are never going to get rid of that mental image. For the rest of the semester, poor Wolsey will be the Cardinal of Pork.
(The Y does look a bit like a P - well, more like a Wynn, in fact - but this, I think, is one of the cases where the context should make the reading clear.)