I once knew someone whose favourite song was Maroon 5's "She Will Be Loved".
I never quite got why, and I never asked. I listened to the song, and concluded that it was okay, but not great. Hardly a song worth listing as a favourite, I thought. Not even the best by Maroon 5.
I tried some more. The rhythm is ordinary. The melody nothing special. Could it be the lyrics?
I listened to the lyrics. Looked them up online. Read them several times. Noticed they were meaningful, but failed to see spectacular. Kind of a happy-sad song. It didn't make me happy, though. Or sad.
In the end, I accepted that we had different taste.
I moved on.
It wasn't until recently I rediscovered the song. This time I thought it sounded pretty awesome.
If nothing else because it reminded me of an old friend.
Showing posts with label fraggles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fraggles. Show all posts
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
On questions, of the frequently googled variety.
Every now
and then I check the stats for this site. Not actually because I am so terribly
obsessed about how many people visit my blog (well, okay, slightly because of
that too), but because checking the stats can be quite entertaining. You see,
there is a function that allows you to see from what website the visitors came.
Quite a lot of them are from google.com, .au, .ca, .so-on and .so-forth. In
itself not very interesting, but amusing when you also look at the search terms
used by these visitors. Or at least the ones landing on my blog are fairly interesting...
(Also, for clarity - the reason these people end up here might have a little something to do with this post...)
This month
Turning to my monthly stats, there are some truly random searches. I particularly like "nuclear chemistry site", "gingerbread song egner", and "norway starbucks salary". Let me try to answer your questions, random googlers.
Nuclear chemistry is not, has not been, and definitely never will be a specialty of mine. But since you came here looking for it, I can only assume that you ended up on my post on the Fukushima threat. This post was written when I still was in Japan, and it is coloured by this. However, I still feel that most of it is valid, even though some of my points seem less impressive now that the nuclear disaster has been ongoing for more than a month. "Fukushima will not be a Chernobyl 2!" I said. And yet - the disaster has since been upgraded to the top level of severity on the nuclear disaster scale. The same as Chernobyl. I still don't think Fukushima will have the lasting and widespread effects Chernobyl had - the way the radioactive material have leaked this time, for instance, is still quite different than it was in 1986. But there is no doubt that Fukushima has become much more severe than I was willing to believe one month ago.
Was this what you were looking for, random googler? If not, let me guide you to a "nuclear chemistry site". You can never go wrong with Wikipedia. (Yes you can. Muchly. But if you want nuclear chemistry beyond that I am afraid you'll have to look elsewhere than this blog for answers.)
Torbjørn Egner's "The Gingerbread Song". You're at the wrong time of year, that's for sure. In Norway we only make these cookies for Christmas. But okay - I don't mind if you want to sing the song all year long. I have written about it, but I failed to include the actual song. Let me make up for that right away. Here you'll find one version. It probably won't make any sense to anyone that isn't Norwegian (since you won't understand the lyrics, or the pun), so I better also include a link to the original version of the song. You still won't understand the lyrics, but at least you might be able to see why the former is amusing (it's a parody). Also, I took the liberty to translate (very directly, very unlyrically) the lyrics. Just in case that's what you were looking for:
This week
One of the
major hits this week have been from people googling the sentence: ”Adam Hills
you’re not special princess”. I am sure Adam Hills is glad to hear that…
Actually, though, I happen to know what people are looking for when they google it. It's a bit (stop laughing Aussies...) he did as part of the hilarious "Live at the Apollo", and it's got many of my favourite Adam Hills jokes.
What I don't get, however, is why these googlers end up on my blog. I don't have the video here. Or rather, I didn't use to. But since I feel the need to satisfy these people who are clearly looking for a laugh, I am now posting the video here. Hopefully it'll satisfy some of the rest of you too.
The princess part starts at about 6:52, but do yourself a favour and watch the rest too. And make sure you don't have any coffee or such in your mouth while watching (it will end up in your nose/on your screen).
(Also, for clarity - the reason these people end up here might have a little something to do with this post...)
This month
Turning to my monthly stats, there are some truly random searches. I particularly like "nuclear chemistry site", "gingerbread song egner", and "norway starbucks salary". Let me try to answer your questions, random googlers.
Nuclear chemistry is not, has not been, and definitely never will be a specialty of mine. But since you came here looking for it, I can only assume that you ended up on my post on the Fukushima threat. This post was written when I still was in Japan, and it is coloured by this. However, I still feel that most of it is valid, even though some of my points seem less impressive now that the nuclear disaster has been ongoing for more than a month. "Fukushima will not be a Chernobyl 2!" I said. And yet - the disaster has since been upgraded to the top level of severity on the nuclear disaster scale. The same as Chernobyl. I still don't think Fukushima will have the lasting and widespread effects Chernobyl had - the way the radioactive material have leaked this time, for instance, is still quite different than it was in 1986. But there is no doubt that Fukushima has become much more severe than I was willing to believe one month ago.
Was this what you were looking for, random googler? If not, let me guide you to a "nuclear chemistry site". You can never go wrong with Wikipedia. (Yes you can. Muchly. But if you want nuclear chemistry beyond that I am afraid you'll have to look elsewhere than this blog for answers.)
Torbjørn Egner's "The Gingerbread Song". You're at the wrong time of year, that's for sure. In Norway we only make these cookies for Christmas. But okay - I don't mind if you want to sing the song all year long. I have written about it, but I failed to include the actual song. Let me make up for that right away. Here you'll find one version. It probably won't make any sense to anyone that isn't Norwegian (since you won't understand the lyrics, or the pun), so I better also include a link to the original version of the song. You still won't understand the lyrics, but at least you might be able to see why the former is amusing (it's a parody). Also, I took the liberty to translate (very directly, very unlyrically) the lyrics. Just in case that's what you were looking for:
When a gingerbread cookie baker
Is baking gingerbread cookies
He first takes a cooking pot
And a kilo margarine
He melts the butter [margarine..?] in the pot
And the next he has to do,
Is to mix the melted butter
With a kilo sugar.
And while the butter and sugar is foaming
You take eight egg yolks
That you stir into the pot
With a kilo wheat flour
And in the end you drop
Into the pot a small tea spoon pepper
And then stir all about!
I make no excuses for the fact that it obviously makes no sense. Plus, the recipe is rubbish, and NOT for gingerbread cookies. Egner was a better writer than was he a baker (though I JUST realized he changed P.O.V. during the song... Not so great writer either? Childhood hero lost? Nah, I forgive him).
Norwegian Starbucks salary. This one is easy. Zilch. Nada. Nothing. You won't get a dime (or an øre, as would be more likely, this being Norway and all. Øre = 100th of a krone, by the way. Øre [also] = ear...) The reason? You'll find out here.
All time
Two search phrases dominate my all time search history. Both seem incredibly unreasonable to me.
Fraggle rock characters. 77 people have searched for "Fraggle Rock characters" and arrived at my blog. 68 simply searched for "Fraggle Rock". Add 21 for "Uncle Traveling Matt" and a dozen each for "fraggle uncle" or "fraggle rock pictures" and this is clearly one of the main searches that leads to my blog. Not giraffes. Oh, no. Fraggles. I love me some Fraggles, but this is just silly. Haven’t I written like one post about them? One!
And yet. They came here looking for Fraggles. Poor things. I feel the need to provide Fraggles.
Looking for the theme song? It's here! And here. The latter is the Norwegian version, by the way. You know you want to hear how it sounds in Norwegian right..? Of course you do. That's why the former ALSO is the Norwegian version ;)
By the way - did you know how JK Rowling came up with the word for non-magical people in the Harry Potter books?
Fraggle rock characters. 77 people have searched for "Fraggle Rock characters" and arrived at my blog. 68 simply searched for "Fraggle Rock". Add 21 for "Uncle Traveling Matt" and a dozen each for "fraggle uncle" or "fraggle rock pictures" and this is clearly one of the main searches that leads to my blog. Not giraffes. Oh, no. Fraggles. I love me some Fraggles, but this is just silly. Haven’t I written like one post about them? One!
And yet. They came here looking for Fraggles. Poor things. I feel the need to provide Fraggles.
Looking for the theme song? It's here! And here. The latter is the Norwegian version, by the way. You know you want to hear how it sounds in Norwegian right..? Of course you do. That's why the former ALSO is the Norwegian version ;)
By the way - did you know how JK Rowling came up with the word for non-magical people in the Harry Potter books?
Muppet + Fraggle = MUGGLE!
(True story)
Cats the
musical. I am no
crazy cat lady, but I am a crazy-cat lady. I’m not the crazy one – the cats
are. You see, I have this special thing - I don't know if it's a touch, a way of moving, a smell, or Digression forbid, a stench - but cats love it. I generally get along well with other people's cats (I've never owned one myself), but the real oddity is with stray cats (actual cats). Stray cats have followed me home since I was little (still cats. No metaphor intended). They would seek out my window - among the dozens of other windows in my house, they would always find mine - and then sit there and cry all night, until I took pity on them and talked back, or came out, or fed them or some such thing. Like magic.
Apparently, this magic also works across the internet. I know I have written about this before, but it still baffles me. Why do people search for cats, and end up here, of all places?!? The internet is swarming with cats (do cats swarm? A murder of crows, a pack of cats? The internet is packed with cats? Hm...). There is absolutely no need to come here to look for them! But since you did, let me help you out. I aim to please (and purr) after all (this might be why cats like me).
A great deal of the cat-searches that lead to my blog also include the words "the musical". Now, you might think this is the critically (and publically) acclaimed musical "Cats", but you arewrong boring. "The musical cat(s)", I say! Just take a look at this:
So there. Those where my answers to your frequently googled questions. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to try to find out who or what "gregory cauthen" and "rooibos charcot marie tooth" are, and why they lead people to my blog.
Apparently, this magic also works across the internet. I know I have written about this before, but it still baffles me. Why do people search for cats, and end up here, of all places?!? The internet is swarming with cats (do cats swarm? A murder of crows, a pack of cats? The internet is packed with cats? Hm...). There is absolutely no need to come here to look for them! But since you did, let me help you out. I aim to please (and purr) after all (this might be why cats like me).
A great deal of the cat-searches that lead to my blog also include the words "the musical". Now, you might think this is the critically (and publically) acclaimed musical "Cats", but you are
So there. Those where my answers to your frequently googled questions. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to try to find out who or what "gregory cauthen" and "rooibos charcot marie tooth" are, and why they lead people to my blog.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
On yuki
Yuki means "snow" in Japanese (or so I've been told), and it is also a pretty girl's name. I used to know a girl named Yuki. I also knew a Yuka and a Yoko (actually, I now know a new Yoko), but this post is not about anyone of them. It's not even about Yuki. It's all about the snow.
Since Japan stretches from north to south about as far as Norway does (not that this would be a point of reference for many of my readers, but whatever... Get a map!), it means that the climate in the northernmost parts of the country is quite different from that of southern Japan (and I'm not even counting Okinawa, which is a different story altogether). The northern parts of Japan get a considerable amount of snow each winter - many of them being the location for several famous ski resorts.
Not Tokyo, though. Tokyo rarely gets much snow, and thus I didn't plan for snow or cold weather when I packed my bags in frozen Norway more than a month ago (time flies!).
Silly me. Last weekend the forecast said cold weather, and while it was nowhere near Norway's 17 blue at the same time, the slushy snow falling over Tokyo and Yokohama (but the snow in Yokohama is another story. Possibly, probably over at the Burrow blog tomorrow) Friday, Saturday and Monday (Sunday was nice, though) was about as cold as anything I've ever felt.
"Oh, but you're Norwegian, you're used to it!" a French housemate told me. Like being used to it helps! It is still cold right here, right now! Besides, I'm not used to it, not now. One month in sunny Tokyo has more than convinced my body that it is spring, and it is not prepared for (or okay with) snow! And, in Norway I am accustomed to being able to wear warm clothes (again, I didn't pack too much of those), and most importantly, to go inside in a warm house when it's too chilly outside. I can go inside in Japan too, but my current lodging is pretty freaking cold when the temperatures fall, due to the unfortunate combination of poor insulation and a space heater that malfunctions if the outside air is too cold/humid.
"Why do you think I came here?" I replied to the French(wo)man-en-tromper (oui, je sais. Mon francais n'est pas fraîche. Me poursuivre!). I certainly did not come to have more snow!
That night I heard many cars outside my window having problems staying on the road in the relatively heavy snowfall (for Tokyo; for Norway - this was more like an "October scare"). The next morning the papers reported any number of injuries, broken bones, damaged cars, as a result of the snow.
But when I left the house that day to see remnants of snow on the sidewalk and in the street, I couldn't help but smile. Somewhere inside me, there was a child wanting to throw a snowball.
It seems I am Norwegian after all :)
Since Japan stretches from north to south about as far as Norway does (not that this would be a point of reference for many of my readers, but whatever... Get a map!), it means that the climate in the northernmost parts of the country is quite different from that of southern Japan (and I'm not even counting Okinawa, which is a different story altogether). The northern parts of Japan get a considerable amount of snow each winter - many of them being the location for several famous ski resorts.
Not Tokyo, though. Tokyo rarely gets much snow, and thus I didn't plan for snow or cold weather when I packed my bags in frozen Norway more than a month ago (time flies!).
Silly me. Last weekend the forecast said cold weather, and while it was nowhere near Norway's 17 blue at the same time, the slushy snow falling over Tokyo and Yokohama (but the snow in Yokohama is another story. Possibly, probably over at the Burrow blog tomorrow) Friday, Saturday and Monday (Sunday was nice, though) was about as cold as anything I've ever felt.
"Oh, but you're Norwegian, you're used to it!" a French housemate told me. Like being used to it helps! It is still cold right here, right now! Besides, I'm not used to it, not now. One month in sunny Tokyo has more than convinced my body that it is spring, and it is not prepared for (or okay with) snow! And, in Norway I am accustomed to being able to wear warm clothes (again, I didn't pack too much of those), and most importantly, to go inside in a warm house when it's too chilly outside. I can go inside in Japan too, but my current lodging is pretty freaking cold when the temperatures fall, due to the unfortunate combination of poor insulation and a space heater that malfunctions if the outside air is too cold/humid.
"Why do you think I came here?" I replied to the French(wo)man-en-tromper (oui, je sais. Mon francais n'est pas fraîche. Me poursuivre!). I certainly did not come to have more snow!
That night I heard many cars outside my window having problems staying on the road in the relatively heavy snowfall (for Tokyo; for Norway - this was more like an "October scare"). The next morning the papers reported any number of injuries, broken bones, damaged cars, as a result of the snow.
But when I left the house that day to see remnants of snow on the sidewalk and in the street, I couldn't help but smile. Somewhere inside me, there was a child wanting to throw a snowball.
It seems I am Norwegian after all :)
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
On recycling
Since I am still lost in the Norwegian mountains, I have decided to take the advice of blogging buddy DL Hammons. He suggested that we all start a blogging recycle station, where we can repost posts (you have no idea how long I struggled with that phrase. "Repost posts" isn't exactly the height of elegance, but what to do? I already spent ten minutes trying to figure out a better phrasing, and I failed. I'm doomed!) from way back when we were blogging nobodies. Many of the blog posts I wrote when I was in the US, for instance, would probably entertain many of my US readers who didn't even know I existed back then. So, since I am away and not writing anyway (or at least not writing blogs. I'm fairly sure I will be writing about trolls. There is just something about those mountains that make it completely impossible to fend them off), I'm taking this opportunity to recycle one of my early posts. Ironically, I am choosing one of the posts that has the most pageviews (according to the Blogger stats, anyway). I don't think the reason it has so many pageviews is because it's been read so many times, though. See, my hit counter occasionally informs me of google searches that lead to visits on this blog. One of the top hits is someone searching for pictures of fraggles...
With no further ado (after all, there was quite a lot of ado in the previous paragraph), this post was originally posted (there we go again! Post posted! If I die of shame, please make sure to do a post-mortem on me!) on September 5th, 2009, and I was trying to make sense of living in the US of A:
Remember the Fraggles? I used to love that show (dubbed to Norwegian, of course). I knew the songs, I loved the characters, and I dreaded every visit into the Gorgs’ garden. One of my favourite parts of the show (apart from the Doozers), was the recurring event of the postcards Gobo receives from his Uncle “Traveling” Matt.
These postcards are video-clips from “Outer Space” – aka our world. They show “normal” human activities or items, seen from Matt’s outsider perspective. It always amused me how the creators could make something everyday and normal so exotic and foreign, and I enjoyed Matt’s interpretation of the situations he observed. What I didn’t realize, though, was that someday I would feel just like him:
With no further ado (after all, there was quite a lot of ado in the previous paragraph), this post was originally posted (there we go again! Post posted! If I die of shame, please make sure to do a post-mortem on me!) on September 5th, 2009, and I was trying to make sense of living in the US of A:
Remember the Fraggles? I used to love that show (dubbed to Norwegian, of course). I knew the songs, I loved the characters, and I dreaded every visit into the Gorgs’ garden. One of my favourite parts of the show (apart from the Doozers), was the recurring event of the postcards Gobo receives from his Uncle “Traveling” Matt.
These postcards are video-clips from “Outer Space” – aka our world. They show “normal” human activities or items, seen from Matt’s outsider perspective. It always amused me how the creators could make something everyday and normal so exotic and foreign, and I enjoyed Matt’s interpretation of the situations he observed. What I didn’t realize, though, was that someday I would feel just like him:
Dear Gobo (aka everyone at home),
The Silly Creatures have really outdone themselves. Outer Space is just so BIG! The cars, the roads, the shops… It’s a miracle they don’t all get lost.
In addition to being big, Outer Space is also very, very different. It started the minute I stepped off the plane – the driver who was supposed to take me to my lodging was blabbering in this strange tongue of theirs (I must say I’m starting to get the hang of it now). He continuously asked me about something he called “the AC” – I still have no idea what he was talking about, but I wish he would have opened a window, since the car was sweltering.
The next thing I noticed about the Silly Creatures is their fondness for cinnamon. Everything either tastes or smells cinnamon. Bagels – a little unusual, but actually delicious. Coffee – I can get behind that, sometimes. Chewing gum – on this they lost me. Public bathrooms – that’s just weird.
A possible explanation to this is that the Silly Creatures have developed different taste buds than us. This would also explain why they have yoghurt that tastes sweeter than sugar. How that is possible – since there is bound to be something else besides sugar in the yoghurt – I have yet to figure out.
Now I must run to the shops which I’ve heard are crazy this weekend. The Silly Creatures are talking about preparing for “Labor Day”. I don’t know what they mean by that, but it sure sounds like hard work.
May this postcard not be intercepted by Sprocket.
All the best from your Uncle
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
On the power of the Internet
Before I started this blog a little over a month ago (happy onemonthaversary to me!), I struggled a little to find a catchy title (seeing what I came up with, you might not be surprised to hear that I struggled). When the word “giraffability” struck me, I googled it to make sure it wasn’t already a word that I simply had missed out on – one of those huge vocabulary glitches that sometimes just happens. Google came up with one hit, directing me to a soccer (sorry, football. Must. Not. Turn. Completely. American…) fan site, discussing a player that was tall and lanky. There is absolutely no chance I have visited this website before, and thus I can say with 100 % certainty that I came up with this word quite separately from the football lover. As long as there were only the two of us out there that had made up this word, I was fine with it. I took giraffability to my heart and used it in my blog title.
Now, for some reason I decided to google "giraffability" again today (this is the sort of mindless thing you’ll find me doing when I am avoiding the fact that there is a great big master’s thesis waiting for me to write it). In 0.11 seconds google came up with "about" 388 hits.
I must admit this surprised me a little. Yes, I made my blog googlable (a word I did not make up – or rather – I did, but I assumed someone else already had, and true enough – if you google "googlable", 0.5 seconds later you’ll get "about" 65 500 hits, including one that directs you to a Wiktionary page complete with etymology). I made my blog googlable, but I didn’t expect this to have much more impact than the fact that if you google “The Giraffability of Digressions” you would get a hit (in all possible meanings *snicker*).
Many of the 388 hits (I didn’t check them all, but I did look at a few) are indeed links either to this blog, or to blogs of people who have been so generous as to include me in their blog roll. One hit took me to a neat little page I didn’t know existed – Networked Blogs apparently lists all its blogs according to topic, and mine is number one of the “Top 50 blogs in: giraffes” (though in total there only are three, so I’m not sure the accomplishment is all that great…). One of the hits still leads to the football site.
But then there are about 300 others that I couldn’t quite figure out why would pop up in that search. They led to everything from fraggle rock merchandise stores to a website for pictures of pirate ships. I looked at a few of these pages, but could find no reference to “giraffability” on them. Then it occurred to me that there was one common denominator – these websites all displayed google ads. Apparently, google advertizes my blog on websites with subjects similar to those I address in the blog. Since the ads change quite quickly (I assume), they are not displayed on the actual websites anymore, but searches still find the original locations. This explains why my investigation stranded on assumptions instead of hard evidence. I am pretty sure I am correct, though. Now all I need is to figure out whether I think this is totally awesome, or whether it just freaks me out.
The fact that anything is googlable in 2009 is both amazing – what a resource! – and scary, because it does give a sense of lack of control (science fiction is, after all, best appreciated when it remains fictional). You can find details about everyone and everything on the internet (which my friend, Galen, pointed out with a warning yesterday). Even my 86 year old grandfather – which has never been online in his life, and for whom the Internet is only a vague idea he has no desire to grasp – is googleable. I spent some time this summer looking into some family history, and in the process I stumbled across records of my grandfather’s birth, confirmation and marriage, plus a video of him speaking at a local, public event. When I showed this to him he was astonished, though I doubt it made him appreciate the Internet.
Regardless of my grandfather’s lack of conviction, the power of the Internet really is quite impressive. It makes me feel like challenging it , or rather, challenging you (ironically this challenge goes out with the help of the Internet) – is there anything left that can’t be googled? And don’t say "owiueuowihgew" or something like that (which should be googlable within short time, since I have been spreading it all over the net before finishing this sentence. Just trying to prove a point…) – I mean something real. Any takers?
Now, for some reason I decided to google "giraffability" again today (this is the sort of mindless thing you’ll find me doing when I am avoiding the fact that there is a great big master’s thesis waiting for me to write it). In 0.11 seconds google came up with "about" 388 hits.
I must admit this surprised me a little. Yes, I made my blog googlable (a word I did not make up – or rather – I did, but I assumed someone else already had, and true enough – if you google "googlable", 0.5 seconds later you’ll get "about" 65 500 hits, including one that directs you to a Wiktionary page complete with etymology). I made my blog googlable, but I didn’t expect this to have much more impact than the fact that if you google “The Giraffability of Digressions” you would get a hit (in all possible meanings *snicker*).
Many of the 388 hits (I didn’t check them all, but I did look at a few) are indeed links either to this blog, or to blogs of people who have been so generous as to include me in their blog roll. One hit took me to a neat little page I didn’t know existed – Networked Blogs apparently lists all its blogs according to topic, and mine is number one of the “Top 50 blogs in: giraffes” (though in total there only are three, so I’m not sure the accomplishment is all that great…). One of the hits still leads to the football site.
But then there are about 300 others that I couldn’t quite figure out why would pop up in that search. They led to everything from fraggle rock merchandise stores to a website for pictures of pirate ships. I looked at a few of these pages, but could find no reference to “giraffability” on them. Then it occurred to me that there was one common denominator – these websites all displayed google ads. Apparently, google advertizes my blog on websites with subjects similar to those I address in the blog. Since the ads change quite quickly (I assume), they are not displayed on the actual websites anymore, but searches still find the original locations. This explains why my investigation stranded on assumptions instead of hard evidence. I am pretty sure I am correct, though. Now all I need is to figure out whether I think this is totally awesome, or whether it just freaks me out.
The fact that anything is googlable in 2009 is both amazing – what a resource! – and scary, because it does give a sense of lack of control (science fiction is, after all, best appreciated when it remains fictional). You can find details about everyone and everything on the internet (which my friend, Galen, pointed out with a warning yesterday). Even my 86 year old grandfather – which has never been online in his life, and for whom the Internet is only a vague idea he has no desire to grasp – is googleable. I spent some time this summer looking into some family history, and in the process I stumbled across records of my grandfather’s birth, confirmation and marriage, plus a video of him speaking at a local, public event. When I showed this to him he was astonished, though I doubt it made him appreciate the Internet.
Regardless of my grandfather’s lack of conviction, the power of the Internet really is quite impressive. It makes me feel like challenging it , or rather, challenging you (ironically this challenge goes out with the help of the Internet) – is there anything left that can’t be googled? And don’t say "owiueuowihgew" or something like that (which should be googlable within short time, since I have been spreading it all over the net before finishing this sentence. Just trying to prove a point…) – I mean something real. Any takers?
Saturday, September 5, 2009
On Fraggle Rock
Remember the Fraggles? I used to love that show (dubbed to Norwegian, of course). I knew the songs, I loved the characters, and I dreaded every visit into the Gorgs’ garden. One of my favourite parts of the show (apart from the Doozers), was the recurring event of the postcards Gobo receives from his Uncle “Traveling” Matt.
These postcards are video-clips from “Outer Space” – aka our world. They show “normal” human activities or items, seen from Matt’s outsider perspective. It always amused me how the creators could make something everyday and normal so exotic and foreign, and I enjoyed Matt’s interpretation of the situations he observed. What I didn’t realize, though, was that someday I would feel just like him:
Dear Gobo (aka everyone at home)
The Silly Creatures have really outdone themselves this time. Outer Space is just so BIG! The cars, the roads, the shops… It’s a miracle they don’t all get lost.
In addition to being big, Outer Space is also very, very different. It started the minute I stepped off the plane – the driver that was supposed to take me to my lodging was blabbering in this strange tongue of theirs (that I must say I’m really starting to get the hang of now). He continuously asked me about something he called “the AC” – I still have no idea what he was talking about, but I wish he would have opened a window, since the car was sweltering.
The next thing I noticed about the Silly Creatures is their fondness for cinnamon. Everything either tastes or smells cinnamon. Bagels – a little unusual, but actually delicious. Coffee – I can get that, sometimes. Chewing gum – here they lost me. Public bathrooms – that’s just weird.
A possible explanation to this is that the Silly Creatures have developed different taste buds than us. This would also explain why they have yoghurt that tastes sweeter than sugar. How that is possible – since there is bound to be something else besides sugar in the yoghurt – I have yet to figure out.
Now I must run to the shops which I’ve heard are crazy this weekend. The Silly Creatures are talking about preparing for “Labor Day”. I don’t know what they mean by that, but it sure sounds like hard work.
May this postcard will not be intercepted by Sprocket.
All the best from your Uncle
These postcards are video-clips from “Outer Space” – aka our world. They show “normal” human activities or items, seen from Matt’s outsider perspective. It always amused me how the creators could make something everyday and normal so exotic and foreign, and I enjoyed Matt’s interpretation of the situations he observed. What I didn’t realize, though, was that someday I would feel just like him:
Dear Gobo (aka everyone at home)
The Silly Creatures have really outdone themselves this time. Outer Space is just so BIG! The cars, the roads, the shops… It’s a miracle they don’t all get lost.
In addition to being big, Outer Space is also very, very different. It started the minute I stepped off the plane – the driver that was supposed to take me to my lodging was blabbering in this strange tongue of theirs (that I must say I’m really starting to get the hang of now). He continuously asked me about something he called “the AC” – I still have no idea what he was talking about, but I wish he would have opened a window, since the car was sweltering.
The next thing I noticed about the Silly Creatures is their fondness for cinnamon. Everything either tastes or smells cinnamon. Bagels – a little unusual, but actually delicious. Coffee – I can get that, sometimes. Chewing gum – here they lost me. Public bathrooms – that’s just weird.
A possible explanation to this is that the Silly Creatures have developed different taste buds than us. This would also explain why they have yoghurt that tastes sweeter than sugar. How that is possible – since there is bound to be something else besides sugar in the yoghurt – I have yet to figure out.
Now I must run to the shops which I’ve heard are crazy this weekend. The Silly Creatures are talking about preparing for “Labor Day”. I don’t know what they mean by that, but it sure sounds like hard work.
May this postcard will not be intercepted by Sprocket.
All the best from your Uncle
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