You say nookie, and I say nooky
Google says the "nookie" probably comes from Dutch "neuken," which means to fuck. A couple of dictionary entries identify it as meaning a sexually available female, but in my youth it was definitely more limited; "nookie" being the part of the sexually available female that was of primary interest. It came to mean the entire organism by a process of metonymy.
Always on the cutting edge here.
In fact, Dave, when I was a college student, Gay and I went to a presentation by a linguist who specialized in American accents, and could pin down where you were from with amazing accuracy. He couldn't identify me at all. There's no such thing as an Alaskan accent, or there wasn't forty years ago. I have a shadow of my mother's Oklahoma twang and, technically, spoke Spanish before English, since my nurse in Puerto Rico didn't speak English. But I've lived in Florida for going on forty years, off and on, and that has softened my accent away from the North Atlantic that's my basic template, speaking in public.
Jerry: Haven't seen the movie, but I expect to like it. I don't "believe" in global warming, and I think that belief has confused the whole issue. It should be measurement, and the evaluation of trends, and finally the theoretical assignment of causes to explain those trends, and testing of those assumptions, with the goal of refining the models so that they can predict future changes. When belief, or politics, pollutes science, everybody suffers. Except the rich.
I can't hate Bush's nuke-u-lar policy, because he doesn't really have one. He says what people tell him to say. Nuclear energy doesn't seem to be a viable substitute for fossil fuels because of problems of scale and maintenance and economics -- unless someone does come up with a safe, cheap, small-scale nuclear energy source. The Hyperion Power Module that William references is a step in that direction, but (to my way of thinking) a couple of orders of magnitude too big and too dangerous.
I don't want anything out there that can be used to fuel terrorism. No terrorist ever commandeered a wind machine or a solar panel.
Yesterday it was pretty much the old con game. Gay and I were interviewed at 11 by Chris Docherty, and old friend who's been a con chair and all-around BNF in Britain for years. Then we had a good lunch at the seafood grill across the street with Chris. At 2 a panel on turning books into films. At 3 I autographed constantly for about 45 minutes, and just had time to go up and pour a glass of wine, and then come down and watch Gay participate in Fannish Feud, which was an SF version of the old TV show. They had sent out a net questionnaire to thousands of fans, asking questions like "Name science fiction movies directed by Stephen Spielberg." Participants had to guess not the real answers, but the answers people had given on the questionnaires. _The Forever War_ was first on the list on "Name nine SF war novels that were nominated for Hugos," but _Forever Peace_ (which won a Hugo) was not; I'd never heard of the bottom four or five.
Then the obligatory science fiction war panel, which was less belligerent than some, and then the con committee (mostly Kurt Baty, I think) took us out to Zoot, perhaps the best restaurant in Austin, where we had the Chef's Tasting Menu, six small courses that showcased his specialties, paired with selected wines. They were okay with substitutions -- I don't like the texture or the idea of foie gras, so they gave me the vegetarian selection, roasted spaghetti squash with cheese, pecans, and sage, and I sort of wished I'd gone veggie all the way. Definitely a dish I want to simulate. Everything else was fine -- spinach salad, roasted snapper, grilled prime steak, and a dessert of chocolate and passion fruit with key lime cheesecake. The portions were small enough that you didn't feel stuffed, and the price was quite reasonable compared to the Boston equivalent -- $65 or $95 with wine.
Back to the hotel by nine for my last "panel" of the day, Campfire Stories. Four of us sat on couches around a simulated campfire and told stories to the company assembled. Bill Crider and Scott Cupp on one couch, and the two Joes, Lansdale and me, on the other. I'm afraid the Joes dominated the proceedings, but people laughed at the right places.
All the parties were on the sixth floor, so Gay and Rusty and I went around to each one for awhile. Turned in before one. Up at six for the gym.
Joe
Always on the cutting edge here.
In fact, Dave, when I was a college student, Gay and I went to a presentation by a linguist who specialized in American accents, and could pin down where you were from with amazing accuracy. He couldn't identify me at all. There's no such thing as an Alaskan accent, or there wasn't forty years ago. I have a shadow of my mother's Oklahoma twang and, technically, spoke Spanish before English, since my nurse in Puerto Rico didn't speak English. But I've lived in Florida for going on forty years, off and on, and that has softened my accent away from the North Atlantic that's my basic template, speaking in public.
Jerry: Haven't seen the movie, but I expect to like it. I don't "believe" in global warming, and I think that belief has confused the whole issue. It should be measurement, and the evaluation of trends, and finally the theoretical assignment of causes to explain those trends, and testing of those assumptions, with the goal of refining the models so that they can predict future changes. When belief, or politics, pollutes science, everybody suffers. Except the rich.
I can't hate Bush's nuke-u-lar policy, because he doesn't really have one. He says what people tell him to say. Nuclear energy doesn't seem to be a viable substitute for fossil fuels because of problems of scale and maintenance and economics -- unless someone does come up with a safe, cheap, small-scale nuclear energy source. The Hyperion Power Module that William references is a step in that direction, but (to my way of thinking) a couple of orders of magnitude too big and too dangerous.
I don't want anything out there that can be used to fuel terrorism. No terrorist ever commandeered a wind machine or a solar panel.
Yesterday it was pretty much the old con game. Gay and I were interviewed at 11 by Chris Docherty, and old friend who's been a con chair and all-around BNF in Britain for years. Then we had a good lunch at the seafood grill across the street with Chris. At 2 a panel on turning books into films. At 3 I autographed constantly for about 45 minutes, and just had time to go up and pour a glass of wine, and then come down and watch Gay participate in Fannish Feud, which was an SF version of the old TV show. They had sent out a net questionnaire to thousands of fans, asking questions like "Name science fiction movies directed by Stephen Spielberg." Participants had to guess not the real answers, but the answers people had given on the questionnaires. _The Forever War_ was first on the list on "Name nine SF war novels that were nominated for Hugos," but _Forever Peace_ (which won a Hugo) was not; I'd never heard of the bottom four or five.
Then the obligatory science fiction war panel, which was less belligerent than some, and then the con committee (mostly Kurt Baty, I think) took us out to Zoot, perhaps the best restaurant in Austin, where we had the Chef's Tasting Menu, six small courses that showcased his specialties, paired with selected wines. They were okay with substitutions -- I don't like the texture or the idea of foie gras, so they gave me the vegetarian selection, roasted spaghetti squash with cheese, pecans, and sage, and I sort of wished I'd gone veggie all the way. Definitely a dish I want to simulate. Everything else was fine -- spinach salad, roasted snapper, grilled prime steak, and a dessert of chocolate and passion fruit with key lime cheesecake. The portions were small enough that you didn't feel stuffed, and the price was quite reasonable compared to the Boston equivalent -- $65 or $95 with wine.
Back to the hotel by nine for my last "panel" of the day, Campfire Stories. Four of us sat on couches around a simulated campfire and told stories to the company assembled. Bill Crider and Scott Cupp on one couch, and the two Joes, Lansdale and me, on the other. I'm afraid the Joes dominated the proceedings, but people laughed at the right places.
All the parties were on the sixth floor, so Gay and Rusty and I went around to each one for awhile. Turned in before one. Up at six for the gym.
Joe