"In 1963, when I assigned the name "quark" to the fundamental constituents of the nucleon, I had the sound first, without the spelling, which could have been "kwork". Then, in one of my occasional perusals of Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce, I came across the word "quark" in the phrase "Three quarks for Muster Mark". Since "quark" (meaning, for one thing, the cry of the gull) was clearly intended to rhyme with "Mark," as well as "bark" and other such words, I had to find an excuse to pronounce it as "kwork". But the book represents the dream of a publican named Humphrey Chimpden Earwicker. Words in the text are typically drawn from several sources at once, like the "portmanteau" words in "Through the Looking Glass". From time to time, phrases occur in the book that are partially determined by calls for drinks at the bar. I argued, therefore, that perhaps one of the multiple sources of the cry "Three quarks for Muster Mark" might be "Three quarts for Mister Mark," in which case the pronunciation "kwork" would not be totally unjustified. In any case, the number three fitted perfectly the way quarks occur in nature."

-- from The Quark and the Jaguar by Murray Gell-Mann, though I found it in the Wikipedia entry for quarks.

Two notes:

-> I've always pronounced to rhyme with bark etc.; true to the origin in the way that double negatives are true to old english, I suppose. 
-> I have not read Finnegans Wake. I gave it a shot on St. Patrick's day, but found it unreadable. If you've read it, drop me a line ... I'm not researching it for no reason.

Remember how I kept muttering about endocytose being a back-formation from endocytosis? Well, dictionary.com has confirmed my suspicion.

I'm going to be honest, I'm pretty ecstatic about having spotted this one. I have a soft spot for back-formation -- it's such an interesting process.

You see, we use this verb often; and everytime I've heard it, I've thought to myself  "that is one beautiful back-formation" and I've felt myself deriving it each time I've said it -- it's breathtaking.




Note, this derivation first took place before I was born, so I likely didn't produce it de novo but, as I said, I feel myself taking 'endocytosis' and clipping it whenever I use the verb, and that was what first made me suspect that it was a back-formation.

When I was in grade ten, I was taking a beginner dance class as one of my credits (art school, right). The strange thing about this class was that it included many girls I had never met before -- this turned out to be a result of their tendency to take applied level classes (while I took academic). Possibly they planned to attend college, but I was given the impression that it was a strategy for avoiding difficult homework. (Not that they were lazier than I was -- I wasn't really into homework either ... I just wasn't willing to base on laziness decisions that would affect my future quite so drastically).

Anyway. These girls spoke differently from how I spoke. They had slang words and phrases that I was unfamiliar with (and not terribly fond of). One such word was custy, an adjective meaning 'gross, unlikeable' -- often used when they were talking about women they had distaste for. When it was used as a noun, it would undergo zero derivation: custy, (pl. custies) -- here it was used slightly differently, between friends ("Let's get going, custies.")

My friend Hendrik hypothesized its origin -- disgust. Often, notice, pronounced /dɪˈskʌst/ (di-skuhst): they were clipping the word and endowing it with a different derivation pattern.

lex. category	standard eng.	vernacular
v.	disgust	---
adj.	disgusting	custy
noun.	---	custy

They were also keeping the devoiced velar stop /k/, not reverting to the original /g/ which had become devoiced as a condition of its environment (after the /s/).

Which brings me to my next observation -- I didn't think about it much at the time, but the gust part of disgust is associated with taste, enjoyment, gusto. Strange that it should have come so far from that meaning.

what's with this cucumber thing ... you know: "cool as a cucumber", "one tough cucumber" ... why are we so concerned with cucumbers?

My sister was the victim of two April Fools Day jokes.

Her boyfriend sent her a text:
"Just got a call from [my co-worker]. He's in jail -- arrested for murdering his wife. his kids are fine, staying with their grandmother."

At 7:45 I walked into the kitchen, to witness her exclaim over her toast, "This isn't honey!"
It was, in fact, concentrated grapefruit juice I had been storing in a honey jar in the fridge -- since February! It would be April first that she mistook it for what the label advertised.

Have set up a new & improved NaPoWriMo blog over here: http://alltheaprilpo.blogspot.com/

For the second year in a row, a very memorable trip to Buffalo for the small press fair. The pace and atmosphere of the weekend, for me, felt very different this year from last, in a way that is well suited to where I am in my life right now -- if that makes sense.



Photo above by Jessica Smith, below by Chris Fritton.

1995

Natalie (5yrs): Hurry up.
Anna (18mos): I'm doing my best, Natalie, I'm doing my best.


2008

Natalie (17yrs): I'm thinking, I'm thinking.
Anna (13yrs): It hurts me when you think.

While I have not finished as much as I had expected to finish, I have started much more than I expected to be starting.

"... on the basis of this information, we can actually figure out how genes are organized in the genome, and we can do this simply by letting organisms do what they like to do, which is to mate ... And then what we like to do, which is to use simple genetic knowledge -- we can actually map a genome, and create a road map for constructing an organism."

--- the brilliant Malcolm Campbell in lecture.

Right now there's a picture of me on the 'participate' page of the Buffalo Small Press Fair site, from my trip last year. I'm sitting at the Outside Voices table fiddling with on of Jessica's poetry objects.

I'm not sure what this is evidence of, but I like it.

My father listens to Rush Limbaugh regularly. My father and I share our days off, so - it can be said - I listen to Limbaugh as well. I have learned one fact from listening: the man doesn't like Hilary Clinton.

1. It bothers me that this is all that I learned of him. What are his opinions, his political views? He doesn't actually say anything; he makes criticisms, for something like three solid hours, most of which pertain to Clinton. I have no respect for that; criticism is easy. Much easier than actually stating an informed and thought provoking opinion. I'm proving it right now - with no knowledge of American Politics, I am able to criticize a man who speaks exclusively on that topic.

2. If I've learned anything from television (aside from the possibly dodgy scientific and medical data), it's that when a man talks that much about a woman - even if he puts her in a negative light - it isn't because he dislikes her. Quite the opposite.

Leaving at 3am for a week in the Warm Country. There will be stories & photos.

Best wishes for the new year!

My littlest sister A. is reading a novel about vampires. She seems to be enjoying it - not generally one to read avidly, she has devoured 200 pages since Christmas. The book is Twilight, by Stephenie Meyer. It is, apparently, a best seller, much acclaimed, etc. etc. and there is a movie being made from it, starring many good-looking thespians. I suppose I shouldn't criticize anything that gets her reading - but you just know I'm about to.

By A.'s age I had read Interview with the Vampire, if not a few other Vampire Chronicles as well (and went on to read 10/12, mostly during high school). Having a predisposition towards books featuring vampires, I did, on Christmas day, glance through the book A. is now mired in. Here is what I encountered in the second paragraph:

"I stared without breathing across the long room, into the dark eyes of the hunter, and he looked pleasantly back at me."

This paragraph stirred three urges in me:

1. Shut the book. (I did)
2. Write a better vampire novel.
3. Figure out exactly what stirred urges 1. and 2.


3. ( Wherein I deliberate over petty details and ultimately read too deeply into this poor sentence )

2. ( Wherein I explain this urge a little more thoroughly  )

1. ( Wherein I conclude )

"Whoa! You are making double stranded RNA. Stop it."