Morons and Child Annoyers

I love the evolution of the English language.

In 1936, a pervert was called a moron and a pedophile was merely a child annoyer. This article describes the final exploits of one Mr. Keane, who, following a "spectacular battle," was killed, even though he was "bent on thievery rather than rape."

Read this article from the Chicago Tribune in the voice of a radio broadcaster from that era and it all makes sense.

This is the height of the Great Depression. That kinda destroys everything I had previously thought. So, it wasn't all, "Brother, can you spare a dime?", soup lines and helping out hobos by offering them odd jobs around the house in exchange for a meal when they came calling at the back screen door while Grandma was cooling a pie on the kitchen window sill, the very window the moron would then peep into, though likely bent on thievery rather than rape.

Can You Hear My Eyes Rolling?

I read someone's tweet that said something to the effect of, "I'll try to facetime you at the conference." So I went perusing the old Picasa images and found one buried in the archives from nearly four years ago that I liked and no one else did.

What Do You Do on The Top Side of My House, Fat Man?

I enjoy language. And I enjoy foreign languages, not that I can speak any. And I enjoy taking words in English, dropping them into a translator, converting them to another language, and then converting them from that language back into English. Why? Because I can. And because something always gets lost or found in the translation.

And now, courtesy of Babelfish and Xtranormal, a German guy who speaks passing English (learned in the Oxford tradition, as Germans tend to do when learning English) will recount a thrilling, snowy evening in which he encountered a jolly man in a reindeer-driven sleigh who entered his home and put gifts around the fireplace. Or rather, he will recite for us, "The Night Before Christmas," by Clement Clarke Moore, as translated from his native tongue.

I'd Follow Your Tweets If I Wasn't a Stupid American

I will generally follow a follower, unless they are an obvious marketer or Demon Spam Rat. But in the past few days, I've been followed by people who tweet in German, Spanish and Japanese, none of which I can read.

Time for Rosetta Stone.

Tire Tracks All Across Your Back

Click for bigishness.