All them nekkid ladies
Did you see, somebody over here might have cracked the Voynich manuscript? If that doesn’t ring a bell, you’d probably know it if you saw it — it’s one of those perennial old mysteries at the heart of Ripley’s Believe it or Not and such like.
It’s a manuscript from the early 1400’s in a completely unique and undecipherable language. Lots of cryptographers and linguists have had a go at working it out, without any success what-so-ever. The pictures are mostly of plants that were contemporary herbal remedies, so it’s thought to be a pharmacopeia of some kind. But then there are other illustrations, like these naked ladies and things that look like astronomic (or astrologic) charts.
Up to now, one of the leading theories was that the whole thing was a fake, perhaps by Voynich himself — the antiquities dealer who turned it up in 1912. There are characteristics — like doubled and tripled words — that are very unlanguage-like. The fact that nobody could crack a word of it probably pissed everybody off, too. But that always struck me as extremely unlikely — writing out 250 pages of nonsense, using proper ancient materials, and drawings and calligraphy appropriate to the age, without once breaking character? Nah.
According to the BBC article, the ‘breakthrough’ was some kind of statistical analysis of the word patterns, which sounds very boring. Cue learned men huffing and pooh-poohing.
But the Daily Mail’s version sounds much more interesting (*shakes fist at Daily Mail*). They interviewed Bax, the scientist, who said he’d taken the known Arabic words for some of the herbs illustrated and managed to find them near the appropriate illustration. He says he has decoded Juniper, Taurus, Coriander, Centaurea, Chiron, Hellebore Nigella Sativa, Kesar and Cotton. That’s better.
If you’re interested, the Wikipedia rundown on the thing is as good as any.
February 22, 2014 — 12:10 am
Comments: 11
Chiphenge
Artist makes middling sculptures out of chips and peas. These were commissioned by the Potato Council in honor of Chip Week 2014, which I somehow missed. Again.
Actually, this lady will make any sculpture out of any food. Or non-food items. Or, whatever. Please, just give her something to do already.
The peas in question are mushy peas, which are — yes — peas that have been mushed. It’s a *little* (but not much) more complicated than that. You take marrowfat peas — big peas that have been allowed to dry in the field instead of being picked young in the pod — soak them overnight in water and baking soda, and cook them down to a paste with a pinch of salt and sugar.
Yeah, fuck it, mushed up peas. They aren’t bad. They don’t taste bad. They just taste…pointless.
Still, they make pretty good mortar in chip sculpture. I guess.
February 20, 2014 — 11:42 pm
Comments: 28
Giant Pooh clogs Scottish sewer
You know when I’m recycling cheap jokes from the Anorak, I’m trying to fob you off with the very best. (Bonus: article at the link briefly explains the phenomenon of “poophoria”).
February 18, 2014 — 11:06 pm
Comments: 8
Who flushed?
This is what meteorologists call a “swirly.” They should, anyway. They really should.
South of England has been getting weather off the Atlantic for twelve solid weeks. That means warm, wet and windy. I mean, day after day. After day after day after day. ‘Round about 45° in the daytime, 37° at night, and cloudy.
Sometimes wind. Sometimes rain. When it’s both at once — boy howdy! — this house leaks in all sorts of new and interesting places. “Honey, have you pissed on the floor in the pantry? Because there’s this, like, huge puddle…”
I shouldn’t bitch. What they’ve gotten in the Western half of the country is much, much worse.
That’s because they bear the brunt of it on the West Coast. But here on the East Coast, every few centuries the Channel hikes up her skirts, tiptoes inland and nicks a couple of fishing villages. Much more of this — and there’s much, much more of this in the forecast — and we’ll be looking over our shoulders for her.
Today’s magic word or phrase: Grote Mandrenke.
February 13, 2014 — 12:20 am
Comments: 14
It’s bacon, but not as we know it
I know, I’ll post a picture of bacon. Americans love bacon!
This is a giant, messy wad of dismembered bacon chunks. It’s called “cooking bacon.” I guess it’s made up of offcuts and leftovers. It’s substantially cheaper than any other kind of bacon, including my favorite British bacon: lardons.
Lardons don’t taste different from any other bacon, it’s just fun to say. “Oooo, that Oscar Mayer, he gives me such a lardon!”
Anyway, I’ve been on a dried bean kick lately. I asked for fatback, and I got this cooking bacon stuff. It’ll do, it’ll do.
Oh, hey, I’ve lived here upwards of five years, and I’ve only just realized you can’t get lima beans for love or money. Turns out — I did not know this — lima beans are just baby butterbeans. I can get butterbeans, but not limas.
You just never know what you’re going to miss.
So Mrs Mondale croaked and ExpressoBold takes the dick! We know what that means, don’t we? Dead Pool Round 60 Friday, 6 sharp.
February 4, 2014 — 11:28 pm
Comments: 20
Well, 2014 might be more interesting than I thought…
I’ve seen this posted around the tubes the last few days and assumed it was fake. Nope. BBC really did fail this large.
Can’t wait for the Year of the Skank.
February 3, 2014 — 11:51 pm
Comments: 16
Yep, still phoning it in
I went to lunch with the neighbors today (Uncle B couldn’t come; he had too much work) and those wiley old coots drank me under the table. Why am I always the youngest person in my cohort?
Man, those old wrinklies can put it away!
Anyway, my hostess’ sheep were just back from the Winter pasture, so here’s a painting of a ewe I did a long time ago. I don’t know if they always moved sheep around all year (you’d have to think in the days before truck transport it would be a real chore), but they all do it here.
Good weekend, everyone!
January 11, 2014 — 12:00 am
Comments: 9
Breakfast with Mrs Slocombe
Really, England? Really?
It’s an energy drink. I plucked it off the bargain shelf after the holidays. The girl at the register said, after the novelty wore off, even the kids weren’t really interested.
And what makes up its magical blend? Fresh white grape juice from Southern Italy, pressed Mexican limes and lightly carbonated water. These are then mixed with Grenadilla and Lychee infused with six selected botanical herbs: Siberian Ginseng, Guarana, Sasparilla, Schizandra and Milk Thistle all of which have their own unique properties and benefits – and taste amazing when blended together and served ice cold on a hot night out.
Hang on, I love grenadilla and lychee. Let me crack open this sucka.
Hey, I like it.
Don’t tell my mom.
January 10, 2014 — 12:08 am
Comments: 5
So. Here we are.
Yesterday was Twelfth Night, the traditional end of the Christmas festivities (if you’re in the BBC viewing area and you missed the Tudor Monastery Farm series, go watch it. Or at least the Christmas special).
So, Christmas is over, and here we are again.
I call this picture, “kitten on my goddamned desk, goddamn it.”
January 7, 2014 — 12:41 am
Comments: 17
And still it rained
Okay, actually, that’s a picture of the beach, but truly it has rained and rained. And winded and winded. Not like that big blow on Christmas Eve eve, but relentlessly. And for as far in the future as I trust the weather forecast.
We haven’t lost power yet, but we’ve had some close calls. The power to the pump that drains our local acres failed. They had to bring in a backup generator while we watched the ditches rise.
And this afternoon, the power went out in the supermarket. Which was creepy. It was pitch black, except for a lone spotlight in the deli section. The girl behind the counter made a “ta-da!” face in the light, which was kind of cute. It only lasted a few seconds, or I assume more backup would’ve kicked in.
Oh my god. It’s happened. I’ve gone native. I’m droning on and on about the weather…
December 30, 2013 — 11:46 pm
Comments: 24