ratty book review

My favourite tongue-in-cheek film review, attributed to Rick Polito in the Marin Independent Journal, goes:

Transported to a surreal landscape, a young girl kills the first person she encounters, then teams up with three total strangers and plots to kill again.

Now this is being challenged for brilliantly missing the point by an equally great book review. Reported by Laurie Taylor (back in 2005: never mistake this blog for being up-to-the-minute!), it's a review by the Vice Chancellor of that leading-edge educational establishment, the University of Poppleton. The VC's choice for Book of the Year is reported thus:

... it told the story of a middle-aged man who fails to recognise the benefits of the community in which he resides. Instead of identifying with its mission statement, he persists in pursuing a selfish, individualistic path and ends up having an illicit sexual relationship with a close organisational colleague.

Fortunately, there is a happy ending. Following an intervention from Human Resources and a slightly overdramatised episode involving large rats, he realises his mistakes and re-commits himself to the ongoing strategic plan.

I wouldn't have identified it without the rat reference.




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Congratulations if you recognised the film as The Wizard of Oz.

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tracking down mad dancers, eventually

So, I was looking for the source of the quotation “Those who dance appear insane to those who cannot hear the music”. Googling, everyone says it's Nietzsche, but of course, hardly anyone gives a source. One suggestion I did find was that it comes from The Birth of Tragedy (originally written in 1872), and helpfully included a fairly substantial quotation.  I couldn’t find a source that exactly matched the provided snippet, but I did find one very close:

In the German Middle Ages under the same power of Dionysus constantly growing hordes waltzed from place to place, singing and dancing. In that St. John's and St. Vitus's dancing we recognize the Bacchic chorus of the Greeks once again, and its precursors in Asia Minor, right back to Babylon and the orgiastic Sacaea.
     There are men who, from a lack of experience or out of apathy, turn mockingly away from such phenomena as from a "sickness of the people," with a sense of their own health and filled with pity. These poor people naturally do not have any sense of how deathly and ghost-like this very "Health" of theirs sounds, when the glowing life of the Dionysian throng roars past them.

Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche: The Birth of Tragedy, NuVision ebook, 2004

However, while tracking this down, I found a different translation:

So also in the German Middle Ages singing and dancing crowds, ever increasing in number, were whirled from place to place under this same Dionysian impulse. In these dancers of St. John and St. Vitus, we rediscover the Bacchic choruses of the Greeks, with their early history in Asia Minor, as far back as Babylon and the orgiastic Sacaea. There are some, who, from obtuseness, or lack of experience, will deprecate such phenomena as "folk-diseases," with contempt or pity born of the consciousness of their own "healthy-mindedness." But, of course, such poor wretches can not imagine how anemic and ghastly their so-called "healthy-mindedness" seems in contrast to the glowing life of the Dionysian revellers rushing past them.

Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche, The Birth of Tragedy. In Albert Hofstadter, Richard Kuhns, Philosophies of Art and Beauty: Selected Readings in Aesthetics from Plato to Heidegger, University of Chicago Press, 1964 (p501) (translation, Clifton P. Fadiman, 1927)

And yet another one:

In the German Middle ages, too, ever-growing throngs roamed from place to place, impelled by the same Dionysiac power, singing and dancing as they went; in these St John's and St Vitus' dancers we recognize the Bacchic choruses of the Greeks, with their pre-history in Asia Minor, extending to Babylon and the orgiastic Sacaea. There are those who, whether from lack of experience or from dullness of spirit, turn away in scorn or pity from such phenomena, regarding them as `popular diseases' while believing in their own good health; of course, these poor creatures have not the slightest inkling of how spectral and deathly pale their 'health' seems when the glowing life of Dionysiac enthusiasts storms past them.

Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche: The Birth of Tragedy and Other Writings, Cambridge University Press, 1999 (translation, Ronald Spiers), pp17-18 

One thing that struck me was the sheer variety in these translations. Just pulling our a single phrase (let's take one that has something to do with the original search), shows the great variety of translations possible:

1. under the same power of Dionysus constantly growing hordes waltzed from place to place, singing and dancing 
2. singing and dancing crowds, ever increasing in number, were whirled from place to place under this same Dionysian impulse 
3. ever-growing throngs roamed from place to place, impelled by the same Dionysiac power, singing and dancing as they went 

While we have hordes waltzing, crowds whirling, and throngs roaming, they are all nevertheless uniformly “singing and dancing”. Similarly with the final phrase:

1. when the glowing life of the Dionysian throng roars past them 
2. the glowing life of the Dionysian revellers rushing past them 
3. when the glowing life of Dionysiac enthusiasts storms past them 

Throngs roar, revellers rush, and enthusiasts storm, but all with “glowing life”. It makes one wonder – how much do translators read earlier translations, how much do they consciously decide to change certain phrases and orderings, and why they leave other phrases the same?

But another thing struck me, which was more relevant to my original quest: although close, none of these passages seem to capture the full spirit of the original search topic: “Those who dance appear insane to those who cannot hear the music”.

A link from that original helpful site took me to a discussion about the source being Henri Bergson. The Bergson quote is given in the original French, and in translation, as

• Il suffit que nous bouchions nos oreilles au son de la musique, dans un salon où l'on danse pour que les danseurs nous paraissent aussitôt ridicules
• “It is enough for us to stop up our ears to the sound of music, in a room where people are dancing, in order for the dancers to at once appear ridiculous.” 

Henri Bergson, Le Rire. Essai sur la signification du comique, 1900
Henri Bergson, “Laughter, an essay on the meaning of the comic”, 1900 

Note Bergson says “ridicule” (ridiculous), not “fou” (mad, crazy, wild, foolish).   Nevertheless, this looks closer to the quote than the Nietzsche passage.  So I felt satisfied.

However, whilst searching around for an image of "mad dancers" to enliven this large wodge of text, I came across a website containing a copy of Meyer Levin’s The Golden Mountain (1932), which is “a collection of tales of the Eastern European Hassidic Jews”. It includes the tale of “The Mad Dancers”:

a deaf man passed outside the house; he looked in through the window and saw the people whirling about the room, leaping, and throwing about their arms. 'See how they fling themselves about!' he cried, 'it is a house filled with madmen!' For he could not hear the music to which they danced. 

Now, this seems much closer, and I suspect may be the "true" source. I wonder how much each might have been influenced, directly or indirectly, by the earlier publications?

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gopher tuna

I've posted about alternative lyrics to Carl Orff's O Fortuna before. However, I recently came across another version, and realised there are alternative alternatives.  There are several versions on YouTube, with their surreal lyrics (but little more so that some possibly drug induced lyrics of real songs) made even more surreal by the accompanying pictures. (A few pics may be mildly NSFW, depending where you work, but they are uniformly wonderful.)  My favourite version (which is the one I stumbled across today) has hand-sketched internet meme figures.

Realising that there are several versions, and that some extremely different readings seem to fit just as well, made me look up the original medieval Latin lyrics, and do a compare and contrast:

O Fortuna (O Fortune)	Oh, four tuna // Gopher tuna
velut luna (like the moon)	Bring more tuna
statu variabilis (you are changeable)	Statuary on his knees // Statue of big dog with fleas
semper crescis (ever waxing)	Some men like cheese // Cement like cheese
aut decrescis; (and waning;)	Hot, temperate cheese // Hot Democrat cheese
vita detestabilis (hateful life)	Vimto can taste of kidneys // Green chalk can taste like hippies // We took a taste of me knees
nunc obdurat (first oppresses)	Lukewarm two rat // You caught two rocks? // Look up, you brat
et tunc curat (and then soothes)	Bet too cool, rat // Pet two cool rats // That took cool rat
ludo mentis aciem, (as fancy takes it)	You don't get cheese or chicken // Luke don't make tea. Sore chicken
egestatem, (poverty)	Bend chips all day // Play chess all day
potestatem (and power)	Hot and salty // Hold his sock tip // Poke Tess all day
dissolvit ut glaciem. (it melts them like ice.)	Dip sore feet. Good, hot chilli // She sold me good, hot chicken
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Sors immanis  (Fate - monstrous)	Saucy codpiece //  Saucy hot peas //  Saucy mommies
et inanis,  (and empty)	Ate spleen of neice //  Get me cod, please //  Get in on knees
rota tu volubilis,  (you whirling wheel)	Brought up too full food in me //  Rock talk to boy who believes //  Broke up to follow minis
status malus,  (you are malevolent)	Suck juice from moose
vana salus  (well-being is vain)	Fun with some goose //  Fun, handsome goose
semper dissolubilis,  (and always fades to nothing)	Second these so rude big knees //  Cement pizza? Noobie please! //   Second this, all who believes
obumbrata  shadowed)	Open bra top //  Open bar tab
et velata  (and veiled)	Get them loved up //  Get him locked up
michi quoque niteris;  (you plague me too;)	Leaking foot when near cherries //  Leaky aquariataries
nunc per ludum  (now through the game)	Look, they look good //  Look there! Fruitloop! //  Look, them look dumb //  Look there look good
dorsum nudum  (I bring my bare back)	Dogs sure look cute //  Don't sue YouTube //  Hot soup look good
fero tui sceleris.  (to your villainy.)	Farewell to knees and berries //  They wrote teh dictionary //  Farewell to ancient berries
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Sors salutis  (Fate is against me)	Salsa cookies
et virtutis  (in health)	Windmill cookies
michi nunc contraria,  (and virtue)	They'll give you gonorrhea! //  They gave you gonorrhea!
est affectus  (driven on)	This octopus //  This know is loose
et defectus  (and weighted down)	Let's give him boots //  Let's cook this goose
semper in angaria.  (always enslaved.)	Send him a carburetor //  Send him to North Korea //  And give him half a pizza //  Send him a car or pizza
Hac in hora  (So at this hour)	Lovely Torah //  Ow, paper cut! //  Monkey, Dora
sine mora  (without delay)	Send me more of //  Sandpaper, ahh!
corde pulsum tangite;  (pluck the vibrating strings;)	Potato soup and chicken
quod per sortem  (since Fate)	What mess again? //  Go taste the dip! //  I miss old friend //  Hot mess all day
sternit fortem,  (strikes down the string)	Sing it, ugly //  It's made with cool whip!
mecum omnes plangite!  (everyone weep with me!)	Be good for Peace Monkey's sake //  Make room for a piece of lovely cake //  Be good for a piece of cake

Clearly these alternatives aren't all independent, but there's enough variety to be amusing. Most of the variation seems to be around lines that nothing fits very well.  Also, once a variant has been used, it appears to affect nearby versions: once you have rats in your head, they stay around.  I suspect that a trained historian could work out a family tree of which version influenced which.

Listening to any of the recordings whilst reading the original words is interesting: in some cases the words really being sung appear to fit just as poorly as some of the alternatives.  Presumably this is a combination of a large choir singing not quite simultaneously, in a foreign language, filtered through a non-perfect sound system.

Knowing what to listen for makes all the difference.  Once you are listening for "Vimto can taste of kidneys", it's easy to hear.  But then so is "Green chalk can taste like hippies".  These surreal lyrics are much easier to hear than alleged mumbled satanic phrases in rock music played backwards (but for the very same reason).

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The Puppet of Dorian Gray

Puppet Cliff Richard

I was reminded of this by Jo Walton’s marvellous Oscar! post, and in particular her inspired casting of Cliff Richard as "Dorian Grey".

Several years ago we worked out just why Cliff Richard, the “Peter Pan of Pop”, doesn’t age.  Made back in 1966, the film Thunderbirds are Go included a sequence with Cliff Richard and the Shadows, played, of course, by puppets.

To the right we see what the Thunderbirds puppet of Cliff Richard looked like in 1966.

Today, stored in Cliff Richard’s attic, that puppet is now terribly wizened and aged.

Or maybe not.

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bio-optically organized knowledge

Some great new technology here -- I want one of these!

Oh. Hang on...

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important safety information

Safety information when travelling is important, since we might come across unexpected hazards, as October Jones' poster illustrates.

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