Palilogia, we adore ya

February 3, 2024

Yesterday’s Zippy strip shows our Pinhead submitting to (in his words) ‘the desire to repeat a word or phrase’, a condition that (borrowing from literature on rhetoric) he calls palilogia:


Here the palilogic impulse is to repeat the word palilogia itself — even by trees

Earlier Zippy strips referred to the clinical affliction phrase repetition disorder and the mantric or chanting practice onomatomania (there’s a Page on this blog about my postings on “Chants, cheers, mantras, onomatomania”). The rhetorical term — with Greek initial element pali(n) ‘again’ plus the ‘word’ stem log — merely refers to repetition; what Zippy’s usage adds is a note of impulse or compulsion that ties the term to phrase repetition disorder and onomatomania.

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The evil that AI chatbots can do

February 2, 2024

First thing. When AI chatbots first became available for private use, there was a fashion among my friends and colleagues in the academic world to ask a bot to compose their scholarly biography. The results were hysterically inaccurate, being composed of bits of actual fact embedded in largely confabulated narratives, with invented positions held, honors received, publications, and personal details as well. We laughed, but it was also more than a little scary: what if such bots were let loose on our public records?

Second thing. I have had a Wikipedia page for some years now. It was factual, and contained some things that are especially important to me, including a comment about my role in mentoring students (this was a significant part of my professorial life, in which I was able to encourage often-disregarded students — women, working-class students, black students, older students, lgbt students), and a mention of my most significant academic honor, election to the American Academy of Arts and Sciences; last time I looked, the page had not yet been revised to include my most recent honor, the creation of the Linguistic Society of America’s (annual) Arnold Zwicky Award, which “recognizes LGBTQ+ linguists who have made significant contributions to the discipline, the Society, or the wider LGBTQ+ community through scholarship, outreach, service, and/or teaching”.

The confluence of the two things. This morning I had occasion to check out my Wikipedia page (intending to recommend it to a Princeton classmate as  source of information about me), only to discover that it had been rewritten by a chatbot, which had of course fucked it up. My mentoring and my American Academy election were gone, and other parts of my life, personal and academic, were worked into a strange fiction (some details to come below), As with the bot-created scholarly biographies, it was possible to track down the sources of the misinformation, but very hard to see how to get any of this corrected, especially since the bot cited actual sources as backup for its mangled claims. (That is, real sources, but bizarrely interpreted by the bot. How can they be challenged? This is not the way Wikipedia was supposed to work.)

I can see no way out of this except to have my Wikipedia page deleted. Better nothing than this shit. Here I confess ignorance: what do I do to have my page deleted? Can any of my readers offer me solid advice?

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You’ve been seeing other fish

February 1, 2024

🐇 🐇 🐇 trois lapins to inaugurate the little month of February (which stretches this year to 29 days), beginning unfortunately in these parts in cold rains that will last for a week, and (this morning) in low air pressure that makes my joints so painful that I can barely get this posting typed and has depressed my vital signs (blood pressure, pulse rate, body temperature) so much that I’m light-headed, unsteady on my feet, and muzzy-minded (the upside is that low air pressure inevitably goes on to rise, so that if I can hang on a while things will get better)

But I’m not dead yet, and (for reasons I don’t understand) I’m not at all depressed — low air pressure often causes me to break into weeping in despair at the slightest provocation, and the unbroken gloom of these days would test anyone — just pissed off at being so incapacitated.

My morning has been cheered by today’s Rhymes With Orange comic strip (involving a talking pet fish and its keeper), which plays in a surprising way with two of the many verb senses of see:

Minimal lexicographic facts about the senses of see involved in this strip, from NOAD:

verb see: 1 [a] perceive with the eyes; discern visually … 4 [a] meet (someone one knows) socially or by chance … [c] meet regularly as a boyfriend or girlfriend

On hearing “You’ve been seeing other fish”, most people would understand it to be conveying sense 4c (for reasons I’ll explore below); what’s funny is that the strip sets things up — via three pieces of evidence that the keeper has just been to an aquarium, a place people go to to watch fish — so that we will take the fish to be using the unexpected sense 1a: surprise!

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and it’s a cold rain’s a-gonna fall

January 31, 2024

🐅 🐅 🐅 ultimate January — would this awful month never end? — so in leap the valedictory tigers (paving the way for the sweet introductory rabbits of February, who in turn herald the fabulous, fortunate, and beneficent dragons of the new lunar year); but the near future looks dark, with at least a week of cold rain, predicted to begin any minute now (I look out my window into the gloom of 9 am and can barely discern my winter-flowering cymbidium orchids — four cultivars now in bloom, more to come soon, all beautiful memorials to my long-dead man Jacques)

And yes, this is another posting serving as evidence that I’m not dead yet. I have projects that are taking much longer than I expected, I’ve been hampered by crippling pain (which you don’t want to hear about, but there it is), and I took most of a day off to welcome visitors (an extraordinarily big thing; I get visits from friends only every few months), who came bearing a small carload of really fine sushi and stayed for a couple hours of amiable talk — giving me the balm of good company. So this morning, as a diversionary tactic I will shamelessly extract bits of Bob Dylan’s “A Hard Rain’s a-Gonna Fall” (see my play on its refrain in the header for this posting), just to get the one line that appears to be of relevance to linguists:

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All about the faces

January 30, 2024

(Totally about man-on-man sex, in the plainest street language, so off limits for kids and the sexually modest.)

(This posting is something of a placeholder, something to assure you that I am in fact not dead yet, while I struggle with a much more complicated posting about English syntax.)

Well, yes, it is a depiction (in an ad for a Lucas Entertainment gay porn scene in an e-mail ad yesterday morning) of raw anal intercourse. (Which I find quite moving in those terms, and which also allows me to fantasize being the guy taking it up his ass with such enthusiasm, as was my custom in a previous life):

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Spillville

January 27, 2024

A small town (population 385 in the 2020 census) in northeast Iowa, and today’s morning name. I have never been to Spillville, but in my world it’s a famous place, and when the name came into my head on awakening, I knew exactly why: as I came to consciousness, my Apple Music had just been playing Dvořák’s String Quartet in F, Op. 96 (“American”), so of course Spillville came to mind; it’s almost as good a Spillville trigger as his Symphony No. 9 in E minor (“From the New World”).

I will explain. Meanwhile, let me recommend the Wikipedia article on Dvořák, for its detailed telling of a remarkable life, of great talent, a lot of pluck, a fair amount of luck, generous humanity, and the benefit of champions, advocates on your behalf (in this case, primarily Johannes Brahms).

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Three days to crown dark January

January 26, 2024

A sequence of birthdays:

1/25 Robbie Burns (the Scottish poet and lyricist), 1759

1/26 Edward Sapir (the American linguist, born in German Pomerania, in what is now northern Poland), 1884

1/27 BOTH Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (the Austrian composer), 1756; AND Lewis Carroll (the English writer, poet, and mathematician), 1832

Burns and Mozart both died young — Burns died in 1796, Mozart in 1791 — so their almost identical lifetimes were also the closing years of the 18th century. The whimsical Dodgson / Carroll was a figure of the late 19th century, Sapir of the early 20th century (he died just a year before I was born, and I knew a number of his students).

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The road to Z

January 26, 2024

In reaction to my 1/24 posting “Cities of Z, found and lost” (an adventure in Z-names), Michael Thomas inquired in Facebook and got my answer:

— MT: Have you heard of Zzyzx Road? It would be a fine place for a city if it weren’t in the middle of the desert on the way to Vegas

— AZ: Yes, and I was sure I’d written about it, but I can’t find any evidence of that. So I might post a brief note on it.

This is that note. Though in addition to Zzyzx Road in Nevada, you’ll get the bonus of the 2006 film noir Zyzzyx Road.

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The Pisces pose

January 25, 2024

(Hunky men minimally dressed, advertising gay porn that features tons of bareback sex; nothing actually over the line here, but obviously not to everyone’s taste)

Two bodies, much alike, complementarily aligned, but also interestingly different, and fitting together in a complementary relationship. As in this image advertising Naked Sword’s gay porn video Rio in Heat:


(#1) Very similar in body type, skin tone, and grooming, but different in the details; meanwhile, the two men relate to each other’s bodies in two very different ways — Man 1, at the top, has his hand on Man 2’s crotch (claiming it as the object of his desire), while Man 2  has an arm around Man 1’s thighs (claiming the other man’s buttocks as the object of his desire)

So the image conveys Man 1 as receptive, Man 2 as insertive.

This alignment of bodies I’ll refer to as the Pisces pose, after its rough similarity to the two fish in artwork representing the astrological sign Pisces. It’s also similar to the yin-yang symbol, with its two complementary elements.

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The unfortunate pivot

January 25, 2024

From the annals of astounding coordination, this head-scratcher reported to me yesterday by Ellen Kaisse.

— EK: See bold-face below. I had to read it twice to see why I was having trouble parsing it.

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