rrrrRRRRrrrr
So that Elmer Fudd thing has a name: rhotacism. From the Greek rho, for R. It broadly describes one kind or another of effed up R, but most commonly substituting W for R.
And then Wikipedia opened its mouth and this came out: Lenition of intervocalic /t/ and /d/ to [d] or [ɾ] is also common in many modern English dialects (e.g. <got a lot of> (phonemically /gotə lotə/) becoming [godə lodə] or [goɾə loɾə]). Contrast is maintained with /ɹ/ because it is never realized as a flap in these dialects of English.
You know, I was following along pretty well that right up to that last bit. Tragically, I was never realized as a flap, either.
Anyway, we were talking a couple of days ago about BBC presenters with rhotacized Rs (about half of them, by my count) and specifically Lucy Worsely. Unlike most of the others, I think a lot of my readers would enjoy her stuff.
Her day job is Chief Curator of Historic Royal Palaces — Tower of London, Hampton Court Palace, Kensington Palace, the Banqueting House in Whitehall and Kew Palace. She’s currently overseeing major renovations worth major coin, so I guess she can’t be as much of a lightweight as she seems. Her television specialty is daily life, costume and customs of historic Britain, mostly (but not exclusively) the aristocracy.
Reader BJM tipped me off in the comments that much BBC content can be found in its entirely on YouTube (at least until the Corporation plays whack-a-mole with individual programs). And, sure enough, quick search turns up shit-tons of Lucy Worsley programs in all their glory.
I think I’ve watched most of those and +1 would recommend.
September 18, 2013 — 10:47 pm
Comments: 20
Wow. I think the BBC forgot how to BBC.
We’re getting pretty desperate for stuff to watch on TV these days. We both favor non-fiction — documentaries, science, history, that sort of thing — and the BBC has arrived at a rigid formula for this kind of programming that is just unbearably dumbed down and insulting.
First of all, they’re clearly hoping each new presenter will turn out to be some kind of enduring BBC superstar. The whole series will be written through the eyes of some unattractive douche-canoe you never heard of and her meaningful journey to discover some boring shit that is peripheral to the main topic. (I blame Carl Sagan and Cosmos for this phenomenon).
This person will invariably have a serious speech impediment. The successful candidate will be a young fat goth chick, an old skinny goth chick or a dweeby guy of ambiguous sexuality. He or she will have a PhD in something. Go figure.
For certain sure, the presenter will NOT be an elderly white man who knows what the fuck he’s talking about.
There will be much dumbness, condescension and breathless reporting of facts that were once regarded as common knowledge. Oh, and animations. Silly ones in the style of Terry Gilliam with goofy music. Tubas and or kazoos feature prominently here.
So we feared the worse for the most recent BBC program we recorded, a three parter on the British food harvest. But…actually…its awesome.
I know you USAians can’t use the BBC iPlayer, but if you click the link, I think it’ll allow you to play clips and look at charts and stuff. The program is chock full of big robot machines driven by GPS satellite, fun science facts and nifty gadgets for measuring the moisture content of grain and much more. Also, capitalism. And it isn’t dumb at all.
But here’s the thing — we’ve watched two of the three programs, and there has been a noticeable absence of these words: organic. Sustainable. Climate change. Shoot, they even revisited how plants love, love, LOVE some sweet CO2.
The BBC.
You reckon we’ve maybe turned a corner on globular warmening at last?
September 16, 2013 — 10:43 pm
Comments: 18
Say a little prayer for Socks tonight
Here is the entirety of the text that ran with this picture:
ginger and white kitten 14 weeks old naughty and hard work looking for a really good home.
Emphasis mine. Emphasis totally makes me want to take this bad boy home. Doesn’t sound like he and Charlotte would hit it off, but I appreciate the honesty, anyway.
Yes, I’m kitten shopping. In my defense, I’ve never bought a cat before. All my cats have come to me as desperate strays — most of them fully grown — and I have taken them in and spoiled them to the best of my ability. The Cat Goddess has been kind enough to send me good cats, and never more than I can look after at a time.
But, begging Her Grace’s pardon, I grow tired of waiting for that special ginger tom. And with Autumn descending upon us from on high, like unto an Acme safe, I really think I need a kitten. For medicinal purposes.
So every morning, over coffee, I refresh a few select classified ad websites and search for kittens. I am very specific in my requirements this time. I’ll know him when I see him. I think. I’ve been at it for about a week now, and I’ve stared at hundreds and hundreds of goofy kittens.
Not sure if that makes me feel awesome or suicidal.
September 13, 2013 — 9:32 pm
Comments: 35
Stunning
Mmmmm…nope. No idea. But he and an hundred-fifty of his friends can be yours, p’raps, for the modest sum of £150.
I get at least one mailing a day for an upcoming auction. This one is from Fraser’s Autographs and there are some interesting things in the catalogue. Not just plain autographs, but sketches and photographs. Worth a browse.
Because this one is being handled online by The Saleroom, you — yes, even you! — can sign up, give them a credit card and bid in the auction, either ahead of time or in real time on the day, though I don’t know if I’d trust a webcam across the Atlantic for anything involving money. And because these are little things, you could probably get them to put your items in an envelope and stick them in the mail.
Don’t ask me about the time I was the winning bid for a lovely…a big, lovely mahogany chest in Shropshire.
September 12, 2013 — 10:01 pm
Comments: 16
be sure to leave a saucer of milk
This little feller is from the town museum in Pevensey, the one we visited last week. I’m assuming they’re assuming this is was Rowling’s inspiration for Dobby the House Elf.
I confess, I didn’t finish Harry Potter — books or movies. I found them a little hard going, to be honest. Like most fantasy books, they borrow heavily from all the books that came before. Which is fine, except I’ve been reading the genre since I was a wee slip of a weasel, which gives newer entries a real aw, geez, not this shit again sort of ambiance.
Anyway, it’s the weekend. Um, open thread…?
September 6, 2013 — 11:10 pm
Comments: 33
Duck!
Last one. No, really, this was probably the last really hot day of Summer. Heavy rain tomorrow, then nice enough for the rest of the week, but ten or twenty degrees cooler and windy. That’s it. The end.
The Daily Mail says it was the hottest September day for seven years, but you know. Pff! The Mail. Still, it was pretty toasty.
So we packed a lunch for Bodiam Castle — that’s the really cool ruin with the big moat and the ducks and the steam trains. It’s a pretty easy trek for us (and takes us past our favorite Chinese takeaway), which makes this one of our best options on a hot day. Also, the kiddlets went back to school yesterday, so it was just us dessicated old people. Ahhhhh. Such a quiet, polite bunch.
I love the way the ducks and the fish totally ignore each other.
Oh, also — points to the Brits: I love it that we aren’t forbidden to feed either (throwing food into ponds was aggressively illegal in New England). Does the heart good to see people and nature enjoying each other so much — and so what if sandwich ends are not the optimum diet for any of us?
As for politics — help me out here, folks. I’ve wanted to talk about the Syria thing all week, but I just can’t work out the angles. Obama and Kerry both — especially Kerry — made their names in politics as totally anti war. So what is it about this one stupid bad-guys-versus-bad-guys civil war that’s got those two all revved up to put their whole careers on the line, just to lob a few pointless missiles in a vaguely menacing direction? I can’t make this make sense.
September 5, 2013 — 10:30 pm
Comments: 31
Mystery as Tunbridge Wells bread fairy leaves loaves with cars
That is the actual title of the article. I did not make that up.
Of course, it isn’t a very good story, but it’s the best I could come up with, having spent the day sacked out on the beach eating convenience store sammiches, skimming stones and squishing sand through my toes. It was probably 80° here today, which is pretty good going for us and may well be the last gasp of Summer.
We’re spending every minute we can out rolling about in it before Crap Descends.
So, would you eat a loaf of bread left mysteriously on your windshield, or would you assume a madman had laced it with LSD?
September 4, 2013 — 10:44 pm
Comments: 22
Beanz
I fell asleep and snored through my usual post composing time tonight, so you get beans. Or, beanz. Specifically, here’s a Mail article about Heinz Beans advertisements through the ages.
It’s hard to overstate what an enormous brand Heinz is over here. I tried to scratch up a country-by-country sales comparison, but the best I could find were these bullet points:
●Heinz employs approximately 2,500 people across the UK and Ireland
●The Kitt Green factory, in Wigan, produces more than 1 billion cans per year of beans, soups and pasta meals and is Heinz’s largest food factory around the world
●The UK is the biggest bean eating nation in the World
●More than 1.5 million cans of Heinz Beanz are sold each day
●Recently recognised as one of the UK’s most loved food and drink brands following consumer research by FreshMinds
Those English people up there? Yes, they are doing what you think they’re doing: they’re making baked bean sammiches. Because, fuck knows. Baked beans are principally a breakfast food here (aiiiiii!), but they’re good for a snack any time because…no, they’re not. They’re runny orange sweet beans, Jesus what is the matter with these people?
I mean, being a Southerner, I grew up on beans. Nice, salty beans, slow cooked with a bit of pork and served with a garnish of raw onion and slice of cornbread.
Honestly, I do not know what these things are supposed to be. Get them away from me.
September 3, 2013 — 10:45 pm
Comments: 50
Whatever
Didja see this? It’s the newest photo of the Loch Ness Monster. Hit the link if you care.
I never thought it was all that outlandish that there might be something big and uncatalogued in a remote Scottish lake. I never thought it was all that interesting, either.
I mean, unless it really is something awesome like a leftover plesiosaur.
But look here at the famous photo of Nessie, in its not so famous uncropped state. That doesn’t look much like a honking big dinosaur, does it?
That photo is known as the surgeon’s photo, because the doctor who took it refused to be identified by name for years.
On a more interesting note, a Google Images search on “surgeon’s photo” turned up a link to the Burns Archive of Historic Photos. From which is derived this CBS News slideshow of cancer images from the 19th C.
Warning: gross. Fascinating, but gross. Medical books always make me feel intensely grateful to my boring functional old bod.
August 29, 2013 — 9:45 pm
Comments: 15
And finally…
The circus. Our semi-official end of Summer.
We’ve been going to this one since before we lived down here, so it’s about as old a tradition as we have together.
This year’s show was excellent. I mean, for a little podunk small town circus. As usual, everybody did multiple acts, and when the jugglers weren’t juggling, they were selling balloons and popcorn.
Every year we hold our breath, waiting to see if the circus comes. The owner (and ringmaster) wants to keep going; the rest of the family is tired and wants to quit. That’ll be a sad year, my friends…
August 28, 2013 — 9:47 pm
Comments: 13