valkyriestrikeofthelashatterdome:

gotterdammerungs:

                             (x)

And then in the future, everything changes. He’s been through it all, of course-watched humanity rediscover the heavens above them, watched them begin to wonder what’s out there. He cheered with the rest of the world when they landed on the moon, cheered as if he’d found Isla de la Muerta all over again, because there was something new. New treasure, a new horizon. But then they stop going, stop exploring, and he goes back to riding tankers across the rising seas. So he’s surprised when one day he wakes up from a night with his bottle of rum (his truest companion), and hears that there’s colonies on Mars now, and they need ships to supply them. He spends the next decade crafting new identities, learning all he can to qualify for the job, and after several tries (and even more faked deaths-this immortality thing isn’t all it’s cracked up to be in the age of the inerasable digital self) he gets it. The ships go nearly constantly now, the needs of the terraforming project creating an unbroken line of vessels from Mars to Earth and back again. “Show me that horizon,” he whispers to himself, his personal prayer of thanksgiving, each time they leave orbit, because the worlds, the stars are in motion and it’s never the same, with nearly three years for a round trip the ports are always different, even if they keep the old names. And finally one trip something goes wrong with the reactor, they’re too low on power and have to deploy the backups, and Jack (Lucky Jack, they call him, for he survives too many things he shouldn’t but science has yet to accept that maybe some things weren’t old wives’ tales after all) goes out for the spacewalk to bring up the solar panels. And as they rise, geometric patterns black against the sun’s glare, he’s struck by a powerful sense of déjà vu, because it’s all here-wind and sails, a ship beneath his feet and stars above his head, horizon in all directions. He wonders, for a moment, if the reason he’s still here is because the universe wanted a witness, to mourn the end of one age of exploration, and rejoice in the birth of the next.

(Source: jamesfrancos, via officialcannoli)

I’m self-publishing my first poetry collection, “The Autumn Station,” in November. And now that I’ve committed to it on the internet, I can’t wuss out! 

Mayka tiki wawa Chinuk Wawa? Mayka tuʔan computer? Nawitka, mayka tuʔan computer.

(You want to speak Chinuk Wawa? Do you have a computer? Yes, you have a computer (obviously).

Itka ukuk? Where Are Your Keys ukuk! (Well, Where Are Your Keys video ukuk).

(What’s this? It’s Where Are Your Keys! (Well, a Where Are Your Keys video, [anyway]).

I’ve been learning Chinuk Wawa via google hangouts for about a month now using “Where Are Your Keys.” Here’s the latest video. It was interesting trying to figure out where the negation goes. Example: 
Alda wik nakya tiki mayka uskan (Now no I want your cup)

aba (or)

wik alda nayka tiki mayka uskan (No now I want your cup).

It turns out that the negation goes at the beginning of the sentence. YAY LINGUISTICS.

One afternoon, as all linguists do, I was sitting on my couch making weird noises, trying to figure out the non-English IPA symbols. I stumbled on the shaded parts of the graph, supposedly outlining impossible articulations. A velar trill is supposed to be impossible. Yet I’m fairly sure I managed it. It just involves nearly unhinging your lower jaw and make my tongue do some crazy backwards bending-folding thing.

FYI, whatever I discovered, it’s the Chewbacca noise. 

glottalplosive:

Phonetic transcription of the chorus of ‘I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)’ by The Proclaimers.

glottalplosive:

Phonetic transcription of the chorus of ‘I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)’ by The Proclaimers.

This is what the English Honors Society talks about on facebook
deep shit

This is what the English Honors Society talks about on facebook

deep shit