Random stuff: what it says on the tin...
Jun. 29th, 2011 11:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
capri0mniMore or less random, anyway. Each thought is probably connected to the other thoughts here, and also to real things in the real world that have meaning and import (or they wouldn't keep popping up, you know) but either the connecting strands are so fine (like a freshly made strand of spider silk) that even I can't see it, or they're iron cables that I'd rather not talk about, or somewhere in between.
Probably mostly "Somewhere in between"
Probably mostly "Somewhere in between"
- From the Lexiphile File:
- I'd always heard that the made-up word "Muppet" was a mix of "Marionette" and "puppet," because they are controlled by a mix of hand-in-head and rod. But then, while watching some Muppet vids on YouTube, several hours after I should have been dreaming, instead, my sleep-addled brain looked at "Muppet" and saw "Moppet," which I vaguely remembered was a term of endearment. So I toddled off to the online etymology dictionary and looked up "moppet." Turns out, it's from the Middle English for rag or napkin -- same root as "mop," and was an early word for a child's rag doll. So in my head, now, that's what "Muppet" is from -- they're rag doll puppets, not marionette puppets -- especially since marionettes are pulled from above, via strings, and rod puppets are pushed, from below. And what makes Muppets unique, in the world of puppetry, are their soft rag bodies, and flexible faces. (Now, let's all bow our heads in remembrance of Jim Henson's Mother's turquoise overcoat).
- Further down on that same page was, in fact, "puppet." It originally meant "doll," too, and comes from "pupil," as in the black, shiny thing in the center of our eyes. Why? Because when we look into another person's eyes, we see a perfect, tiny, reflection of ourselves. So that became the word for a miniature model of a person to play with. It also became the root for the Latin word for "girl" (which just goes to show the role that girls played in Roman society).
- "Doll," meanwhile, is a pet name nickname for "Dorothy" -- and it was pointed out how often "r" turns to "l" when English speakers are feeling cozy and silly -- Dorothy becomes "Dolly," Harry become "Hal," Mary becomes "Molly," and so forth.
- "Corny," I learned today, goes back to 1932, at least, in writing, and its sense of "simply sentimental" comes from the idea that this is the sort of thing that country bumpkins would like -- people who spend their lives growing corn.
- I'd always heard that the made-up word "Muppet" was a mix of "Marionette" and "puppet," because they are controlled by a mix of hand-in-head and rod. But then, while watching some Muppet vids on YouTube, several hours after I should have been dreaming, instead, my sleep-addled brain looked at "Muppet" and saw "Moppet," which I vaguely remembered was a term of endearment. So I toddled off to the online etymology dictionary and looked up "moppet." Turns out, it's from the Middle English for rag or napkin -- same root as "mop," and was an early word for a child's rag doll. So in my head, now, that's what "Muppet" is from -- they're rag doll puppets, not marionette puppets -- especially since marionettes are pulled from above, via strings, and rod puppets are pushed, from below. And what makes Muppets unique, in the world of puppetry, are their soft rag bodies, and flexible faces. (Now, let's all bow our heads in remembrance of Jim Henson's Mother's turquoise overcoat).
- From the writer's block file: I've become mildly distressed since remembering all the story-writing projects I mean to embark on, but never complete:
- Rewriting the story of Eloise the Troll, to give her a reality outside of Doctor Who fanfiction.
- My Monster Teddy story.
- My Gabriel Climbing story.
- Rewriting the story of Eloise the Troll, to give her a reality outside of Doctor Who fanfiction.
- And then, I remember my new blog.
- The book I bought finally arrived last week: A collection Welsh Gypsy fairy tales, collected by John Sampson (d. 1931), and one story in the collection has a man cut out his own eyes and give them away for food. And then, later in the story, he overhears animals talking to each other, and learns, from them, of a plant that will cure all blindness.
It brought to mind a documentary I saw, many years ago, of one of the pioneers of the American Disability Rights movement (he was a vet of the Vietnam war, who came back deaf and with a spinal chord injury, and he used his experience from organizing war protests, to organize for access and rights for the disabled), and a workshop exercise he'd do with able-bodied people where one person would "play the wheelchair user." He'd then give everyone a puzzle to solve, and split them up into to groups to try and figure it out. And then, he'd whisper the answer to the one sitting in the chair on the side. And that person would be the only one to know the answer -- none of the people in the groups figured it out in the time allowed. And he would point out to the assembled: "Hey, you know, you could have asked the person in the chair..." To point out how, even when it's only pretend, being categorized as "disabled" makes you invisible, even if you have All The Knowledge. And I'd kind of, sort of, like to reference this guy's work in my commentary.
But I Cannot Remember His Name For the Life of Me, and I can't Google him without his name. And Wikipedia's entry on Disability Activists only goes back as far as the ADA (1990), and this guy was active in the 1970s, iirc. (and Wikipedia's list is very, very heavy on the Doctors-working-for-Cures contingent, which is just... GRAH!!). - Yesterday, I spent a good bit of my time reading this mini-collection of stories:
Fools whose wishes all come true (Stith-Thompson folktale type #675, where it's all very clear that these are stories of heroes with developmental disorders, of the sort we'd recognize today, and how they're verbally bullied and mocked, and how they use their powers to get even. I was doing okay, until I got to the end of the version from Greece (Halfman), at which I complained aloud: "No, that's just not fair," and left to watch television.
Then, this morning, I picked a story from my new Welsh Gypsy book, based on the title "Goggle-eyes," thinking it might be about someone with vision impairment... and it was about a fool who gets the power to have wishes that come true. *eye-darts the Universe* - I'm having trouble making up my mind whether very brief mentions-in-passing of Disability images, without much discussion (because there's not much to be found, without resources that I do not have access to) would be worth putting in my blog, just to have something to put there without too many days going by.
- The book I bought finally arrived last week: A collection Welsh Gypsy fairy tales, collected by John Sampson (d. 1931), and one story in the collection has a man cut out his own eyes and give them away for food. And then, later in the story, he overhears animals talking to each other, and learns, from them, of a plant that will cure all blindness.
- I finished watching On the Riviera today, via YouTube. Apparently, it was one of those movies that was a popular hit, and panned by the critics. I can see why, on both counts. It's a remake of a remake of a film version of a play, so no one can say there's anything at all original about it.
On the other hand, it is warm, and sunny, on all counts: a) set in a warm and sunny location and b) it has a warm and sunny mood. Even during the lovers' quarrels that drive the plot, there is neither bitterness or sarcasm. And it is very nice to see Kaye play First fiddle, for once, and to play someone consistently self-assured and capable, rather than a nervous, twitchy, clown (even though he played the latter to perfection).
I've come to the conclusion, after all the Danny Kaye-watching over the past two weeks that his signature move was a version of this:
\o/
And that's fine by me. I may make a screen-cap collage to prove my thesis, in the not to distant future.
no subject
Date: 2011-07-01 02:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-01 03:00 am (UTC)My latest entry is a brief voicing of my frustration around the research run-around regarding Mother Goose -- not as in-depth as I would like (at all), but at least it's a third entry for the month. So I'm not in such a rush to post my Welsh Gypsy story... Now that I have a name, I can try it.
Thanks.
no subject
Date: 2011-07-01 10:00 pm (UTC)And the Wikipedia article didn't mention anything about employment rights for civilian disabled, which the guy was working toward...