February 28, 2004

the automatic controllers of our nation

Some excerpts from W's toast to the nation's governors, Feb. 22, after running the text through the google translator in several languages. The original text can be found here.
Good evening. Welcomely to the white house. By of Laura and of of me, around to regale so many our friends and new well-known are honoured.

I estimate the fact that the vice-president with us is. I legend often that Cheney is thick the finest vice-president, whom our country had at all. Nut/mother always says, "waits you one minute"

Desire to thank for the previous governors who are in my cabinet, Tommy Thompson and Juan Ashcroft, the song of Tom, who is not with us tonight, and to the newest member of my cabinet, Leavitt microphone. (applause.)

The last time I was with the Schwarzenegger Governor that it paddle on me which we have some joint things. We both connected well. (laughters.) We both have trouble with the English language. (laughters.) We both have large zweikoepfige muscles. (laughters.) Well two from the three. (laughters.)

We shared responsibility, also, to heighten the enterprising alcohol, so that our continuous economy to develop and people can find the job; co-operate, in order to examine that Americans can win affordable entrance to the health care; in order to make sure every child it learns to read and to write and to add and to embezzle.

I have large confidence in the automatic controllers of our nation, because you represent highest ideals of your condition and you hold confidence of your people. It is a pleasure to regale you all here. And now I would like that all connect you me in a toast to the automatic controllers of the United States.

sneachd a' taomadh oirnn a nuas . . .


(dealbh: Tom Crilley)

Fhuair Halifax còrr is 3 troighean (90 cm) sneachda an t-seachdain sa chaidh. Chuir iad ainm air a' bhliosard: White Juan, an dèidh Doineann Juan, a thàinig gu cruaidh an uiridh as t-fhoghar:


(dealbh: CP PHOTO/Andrew Vaughan)

February 27, 2004

nam pingeadh tu mi, pinginn air ais thu

Tha seirbheis Trackback aig Haloscan a nis, agus chuir mi air a' bhlòg i. Chan eil mi tuilleadh is cinnteach gu dè 'n feum a th'innte, ach tha a h-uile duine 'ga dèanamh. Nach mi tha "cruachann" is "leis e."

February 21, 2004

happy IML day

Today is International Mother Language Day. Save the Moms.

shall we throw rice, or lob tear gas?

SPOT THE WINGNUT. From Friday's press gaggle at the White House:
Q Since the President is, under Article II, Section III of the Constitution, required to "take care that the laws be faithfully executed," what specifically has he done with regard to more than 2,000 violations of California's marriage law by the Mayor of San Francisco? And I have a follow-up.

MR. McCLELLAN: I think we just went through this subject at length when Terry brought this question up, and I told you what we're doing.

Q -- he hasn't done it --

MR. McCLELLAN: Well, we're closely looking at these events.

Q Is he in touch with Governor Schwarzenegger on this issue, do you know?

MR. McCLELLAN: I don't know if they've had a conversation. Certainly, we're aware of what the Governor has been doing, as well.

Q When there was massive law-breaking on the campus of the University of California in Berkeley, Governor Reagan sent in the National Guard, just as the 101st Airborne was sent into Little Rock, whose schools were breaking the law. And my question: Does the President believe those actions are wrong? And if not, why hasn't he asked Governor Schwarzenegger to take action against this massive law-breaking?
The reference to Berkeley would be this:
On Thursday, the day the sheriff's men started blasting away with their shotguns (leaving one onlooker very likely blinded for life and many others wounded-the San Francisco Chronicle carried a photo of an officer firing his shotgun at a young man who is running away with his back turned), Rector, along with many others, had scrambled up to the rooftop to get out of the line of fire and the tear gas.
And this was Reagan's famous comment on the situation:"If there has to be a bloodbath then let's get it over with."

So we have a White House reporter [edit: Les Kinsolving, as it turns out] openly calling for a military crackdown on weddings. Maybe his job is to make W look moderate. Maybe he's trying to cast the aWol issue in a new light - "while John Kerry was surfing in Vietnam, the National Guard was bravely busting hippies' heads." Or maybe this guy's just a bloodthirsty bigot.

on the climax of her/its/their fame

If you're in need of having a document translated, you might want to consider not availing yourself of the services offered by WEB.DE. That website was thanked by a German punk band called the Kona Jacks for providing an English translation of the band's history. Some excerpts:
The history of the Kona Jack, on the climax of her/its/their fame one of the knownest Mössinger punk-bands at all, a history of fame and wealth, from success and career, participates but also from excesses and orgies, crises and decay.

guitarist "Re" ale.X, the athletic type, shone through polished Songwriting with profound texts, that moving the versierte and brillannte singer "Arschfick" Thieu and to convert with expression knew, just as exhibitionistischen insoles with the live-shows, while also the good-looking, quiet type was represented with "Curaz" Andi and with "Korrekt" Fröder of the women-swarms with homosexual tendencies.

however the peace should not be from long duration: Compromising photos of several band-members, in obscene positions in one another devoured, circulated in the press and made the temporary success unsuccessful again.
Now any translator worth his/her/its/their salt knows better than to use ambiguous constructions. But here we are left to wonder whether it is "Korrekt" Fröder or his women-swarms who possess the homosexual tendencies.

But for those who know German, the clearest sign of incompetence was their inability to come up with an English equivalent of Arschfick.

February 19, 2004

an tèid na giotàraichean aca suas gu 11?

Tha e math ri chluintinn gun do nochd, mu dheireadh thall, còmhlan roc cruaidh Gàidhlig: Armachdan Lèir Sgriosail.

Ach dè a' Ghàidhlig a th'air -related program activities?

Agus bho Bhaile Starbucks, tha Mill a h-Uile Rud a' cur blas na Gàidhlig air ceòl punc. Tha mi'n dochas gun cluinn sinn òrain mar Mo Nighean Ghorm agus Seallaibh Skateboard Eoghainn.

Dè tha bhuainn fhathast? 'S docha gu bheil, àite air choireigin (Sidni a Tuath?), còmhlan ùr a' cleachdadh anns a' gharage:

Co-dhiubh bràthair neo màthair thu
Tha thu cumail beò, cumail beò

Chì Mi Bhuam . . .

. . . is Scottish Gaelic for “I see (at a distance) from me.” It’s the title of a song by Alasdair The Ridge MacDonald, who in 1847 left his home in Mabou on Cape Breton Island for the Nova Scotia mainland. One bright day on Cape George, he could see clearly across to his old home:

Chì mi bhuam, fada bhuam
Chì mi bhuam ri muir làin
Chì mi Ceap Breatuinn mo luaidh
Fada bhuam thar an t-sàil’

I see at a distance, far at a distance
I see at a distance on the full tide
I see Cape Breton my love
Far from me across the sea


You can hear a clip of the song (sung by Barry George) and read the English translation here (track 11).

The Human Breakdown of Absurdity is one of the finest examples of a song-poem, the train-wreck spawn of amateur lyricists, professional musicians, hustling producers, and hurried recording sessions. This particular song was written by Ove Lid, with music by Lew Tobin, and performed by Norm Burns & Singers. You can listen to a clip here (track 5).

February 17, 2004

Africville Redux

[via Atrios]: The New York Times has a story on Zanesville, Ohio that someone might want to forward to Dinesh D'Souza:
The commission found that on Coal Run Road, none of the 17 black or mixed-race homes had city water service, while two white homes did. On nearby Langan Lane, all of the 18 white homes on top of the hill had city water, while five of the eight black or mixed-race homes in the hollow did not. (The other three families had connected to the municipal lines by themselves.)
The story reminded me of Africville, a historic Black community on the northern shore of Halifax, Nova Scotia. While the rest of the city was developed, Africville was denied basic municipal services like plumbing and paved roads. Instead it got the dump, the slaughterhouse, the "night soil" deposit pits (now there's a euphemism for ya), the infectious disease hospital, and so on. When residents petitioned for basic infrastructure, they were given the same excuses as in Zanesville: a) the ground is too rough; b) it's outside the city limits.

By the mid-20th century Africville had become an eyesore and embarrassment to the city establishment. Their liberal, benevolent solution was not to bring in the asphalt and sewer pipes, but to bring in the bulldozers. Africville was razed to the ground. Now it's a park and a harbor bridge ramp.

Here's a bit of background from the CBC.

Here's a link to Africville Suite, a wicked cool jazz cd by Joe Sealy, a son of Africville.

fàilte

Fàilte dhan bhlòg! Cha do rinn mi riamh a leithid, ach tha mi'n dùil gum bi mi sgrìobhadh air iomadh cuspair: poileataics (Ameireaganach gu h-àraid, ach Canadach is Albannach cuideachd), cànain, ceòl, is cultur. Chì sinn mar thèid e.