More interesting, especially in close elections, is the demographic structure -- the political geography, in a sense -- of Pennsylvania. The main population concentration in Pennsylvania is the Philadelphia metropolitan area in the southeast. The second-largest is the southwestern region that was originally built up by mining and manufacturing -- main city Pittsburgh. The rest of the state is called the T. This is not really a homogeneous area, including as it does the port of Erie, the state capital Harrisburg, Pennsylvania Dutch country, Allentown, and the Poconos, but it's a convenient term nonetheless.
Learn more at its entry in WebElements and its entry at Chemicool.
Aviv is the Hebrew word for Spring (the season, not the hydrological feature; you realized this because I wouldn't capitalize just any noun). Putting all this together, we see that Tel Aviv could be Anglicized to Springhill. Actually, aviv has a more technical meaning associated with barley ripening, and gives its name to the corresponding month, starting around the time of the vernal equinox. Aviva is a common Hebrew woman's name.
The TAAS was instituted around 1991 by his Democratic predecessor Ann Richards, a woman best remembered for making fun of W's father at the 1988 Democratic Convention (I think that was it). It was sweet revenge for dad when W won that statehouse.
The TAAS is primarily an instrument of state educational policy, since various penalties and a few incentives are associated with schools' pass rates on the test, particularly at tenth grade and with particular attention to separately tabulated scores for blacks and Hispanics.
Steadily increasing scores on the test, and a decreasing gap between white and nonwhite students, have been called the ``Texas Miracle.'' This is not a complete fraud, since schools statewide have been feverishly ``teaching to the test.'' This has come partly at the expense of non-tested subjects (i.e., dumbing-down of curriculum to the level of the minimal-standards test, as well as shift of class time and other resources away from science, history, etc.), but it has also involved increased overall dedication to teaching, prompting the TFT to support the TAAS.
Most of the apparent steady improvement, however, reflects illegitimate factors. Independent authorities have found that the already-easy tests have been getting progressively easier. Strong indirect evidence for this claim is the fact that Texas scores on almost all other standardized tests have shown little or no improvement. In many large school districts, there have been suspiciously large increases in the number of students categorized as learning-disabled or non-English-proficient (and hence exempt from inclusion in test averages). There are indications that marginal students have been pushed into GED programs, where they do not count as drop-outs but also do not take the TAAS. In various cases that have been settled or are being prosecuted, it appears that test forms have been altered, good students' ethnicities reclassified, and scores simply misreported or not reported.
Some inconsistent correlations suggest widespread fraud, but perhaps the clearest sign that the numbers are being cooked is in the official drop-out rate, which the Texas Education Agency reports as having fallen from an annual 6.1 percent in 1989-90 to 1.6 percent in 1998-9. The latter figure is impossible to square with graduation numbers that are about 70% of enrollment numbers for the same cohorts in seventh or ninth grade.
For a bit more, including the article source of some of the opinions above, see the Mandate of Heaven entry.
compact
option), but that doesn't
always work. In general, it's better to save list tags for their intended
purposes, particularly as browsers often have difficulty with nested lists.
More effective for graphical browsers, and
recommended in some HTML books, is to use a transparent graphic and control
the space with the width
parameter (define the
height
also, or some browsers will scale that). One problem
with the transparent-graphic approach is that unless you control the font size
(and the client doesn't over-ride), all bets are off. Another problem is
that it doesn't work with nongraphical browsers.
What works:
Nonbreaking spaces (coded as or  ). For example:
     
     
Yeah, it's ugly, but it's fairly reliable. ``El que quiere celeste, que le cueste'' as they say. Also, if you want double-spaces after your periods, you can achieve that by inserting a between the final punctuation and the white-space following it. (The double-spacing is primarily an English-language practice. It began as an attempt to reproduce in typing the slightly larger-than-normal spacing that typesetters use at the end of a sentence. The legibility-enhancing space is nominally one-and-a-half em's, I think. LaTeX has a declaration \frenchspacing to turn off this feature.)
Santoyo wrote then that ``hoy no se habla ... de la Mesa, sino de la Tabla Redonda...'' [`today no one speaks ... of the Table, but of the Round Board...']. Googling in January 2006, I found that ``mesa redonda'' was about 12 times more common than ``tabla redonda'' on pages with ``rey Arturo,'' though in pages that also include the word mort or morte, the frequencies are comparable. I wasn't going to take issue with Santoyo's judgment of common usage in Spanish; I was going to put it down to the passage of time and make the text of these two paragraphs an entry for the word melioration.
But first I had a look in Corominas y Pascual. The `table' sense of tabla cognates is common in Catalan, Gallo-romance, Italian, etc., not to mention French, though Portuguese and Galician usage is parallel to that of modern Spanish (i.e., Castilian). However, it turns out that in Old Castilian tabla at least briefly had the sense of `table' also. So I decided that the semantic movement was a bit too complicated, and this information became a tabla entry. Let no one say that there is no logic to the placement of entries in this glossary.
I don't know anything about it, but I do know this:
``A gentleman is never unintentionally rude.''
I think Osbert Sitwell (Edith's brother) said this, but I'm not sure.
Hmm. I guess I better have something to say about TACT after all. Okay: it's an extension of COCOA.
This is reminiscent of the problems that the Republic of Macedonia is having: FYROM.
To say nothing of former-republics-of the SU. And the basketball `Team Formerly Known As The Washington Bullets.' Now unknown as the Washington Wizards (!).
See also TAFKAC, TIFKAD, and HLN.
Qu'est-ce le Temps Atomique International (TAI)?
Le Temps Atomique International est une échelle pratique de temps destinée à être utilisée dans le monde entier. Le TAI est une échelle uniforme et stable; il ne suit pas par conséquent les légères irrégularités du mouvement de rotation de la Terre.
TAI is a weighted average of times kept by atomic clocks around the world (over 200 as of July 2004), computed by BIPM. It is estimated to be accurate to within a tenth of a microsecond per year. Cf. UTC.
Why is this entry alphabetized by definition instead of by headword?
Because yesterday a disk problem munged A.html --
that's why.
There, happy now?
Tailor asks, ``Euripides''?
Man asks, ``Eumenides''?
Name from Persian talk > Arabic talq > Old Castilian talco > Medieval Latin talcum. [Old Castilian evolved into New or Modern Castilian, the language called ``Spanish'' in English, and talc is still talco (q.v.), in Spanish.]
Mmm. Feels good on the skin.
Mmm. Feels good on the skin.
The usual flow of vocables between Latin and Spanish has naturally been from the former (and earlier) to the latter (and later). This word is one of the exceptions. Since Latin continued to be widely used for learned, ecclesiastical, and some official communications for centuries after Spanish and other Romance languages became established, there was a need to coin Latin translations of new terms. Because most of Romance vocabulary was derived from Latin, the natural way to fit new words into the Latin system (where all nouns must have a gender and a declension, and all verbs a conjugation, etc.) was by back-formation: creation of a word that would have evolved into the corresponding Romance form.
This was relatively straightforward for Spanish, because the original derivation from Latin was straightforward. In particular, most Spanish words ending in -o are masculine nouns (see LONERS) derived from Latin nouns of the second declension. Most of the original nouns in turn are masculine or neuter. Spanish, like all major Romance languages other than Romanian, retains only masculine and feminine genders, so neuter nouns were naturally collapsed into the masculine. [The Spanish noun forms represent a kind of consensus regularization of the more complex Latin system: the most common Latin singular form (for dative and ablative cases) ended in -o, and the accusative singular -um of classical Latin had a similar sound, since Vulgar Latin and even Late Latin dropped final m's.]
It is mildly interesting that in back-construction, the Spanish masculine talco became a Latin neuter talcum rather than a Latin masculine talcus. This is slightly surprising. It is true that gender is not always preserved when a word is loaned between languages, but it does tend to be preserved under conditions that apply here: the source language (Spanish) is well understood by the user of the destination language (Latin), which has available the readily identified gender, and preserving gender does not conflict with the morphology of the destination language. I can't think of any precise comparanda, but of some relevance is the word naranja (feminine in Spanish and French), whose ultimate form in English (orange) and French was influenced by a Latin neuter (aurum); see details at the adder entry. Possibly there was a preference for giving chemical substances neuter gender; elements named in the modern era generally end in -ium (neuter second declension in Latin) or -on (neuter second declension in Greek).
One of the main patterns of phonological change that occurred in the transition from Latin to Spanish is lenition, in particular the sonorization (a/k/a voicing) of isolated stops (labial p to b, dental/alveolar t to d, palatal k to g). This sometimes occurs initially (Late Latin cattus > Sp. gato, `cat') but is primarily intervocalic. Hence L. vita > Sp. vida (`life') and acutus > agudo (`sharp' in various senses). Sometimes the loss of an unstressed vowel conceals the fact that there was originally an intervocalic stop. Thus, for example, Latin aliquod gave rise to algo. So talicum could have given rise to talgo.
There doesn't seem to be much information on Oriol, but Alejandro Goicoechea was a designer who was willing to try some unusual tactics to reduce weight and friction. I guess Oriol put up the money. Over the years, Talgo has designed trains with variable gauge (since 1968) and the ability to lean into curves (since 1980), but the main constant feature has been light weight (notice the name). I'll fill in more details when I don't have to reorganize them every time I learn something new.
The epigram ``talking about music is like dancing about architecture'' has been attributed in a few forms to a few people, among them the avant-garde performance artist Laurie Anderson, her inspiration William S. Burroughs, and the singer Elvis Costello. Costello, at least, has denied paternity. One of the earliest attributions I've found is from April 8, 1987, St. Petersburg Times (Florida), in a review by Peter Smith of books about the history of rock'n'roll. He attributed the epigram (with ``writing'' instead of ``talking'') to Martin Mull. Mull is probably the most obscure person to whom I've seen it attributed, so I'd put my money on his being the neologist.
Tallahatchie Bridge was made famous by the early sixties song ``Ode to Billy Joe.'' It was reputedly a hit in Latvia (.lv). To this day, still no inquest into the doings that fateful day up on Chocktaw Ridge.
My friend Marvin used to sigh with an ostentatious ``sigg,'' but this was ahistorical. The ``gh'' used to be pronounced (when this was still a common sound in English) as /x/ (i.e., like the ``ch'' in loch or Bach).
Last time I talked with him, Marvin was studying Sanskrit.
``Aggie'' is derived from the Agricultural in A&M. Aggie is itself abbreviated Ag, with plural Ags.
The Texas A&M logo is ATM, with a large tee and kerning to give a printer fits.
GENDER FAIRNESS ALERT:
The pronoun his above is not meant to imply that the suit is male.
The suit may be female, or a eunuch of either sex, or both, or ... look, what
I'm trying to say is, I don't care which bathroom he uses.
I wonder under what name they market TANG in Latin America.
You know, I remember in the early days of feminist social criticism (until about 1973), how the party line was that girdles and bras and iron maidens were all tools of patriarchal oppression. Burn your bra! (Take it off first. Better yet, buy a more flattering size, and burn it.) Happy days are here again, I suppose.
In one of the increasingly loopy interviews hyping the release of the 2003 movie ``Troy,'' Brad Pitt (``Achilles'') predicted that it would soon be common for men to wear skirts. This is nothing. I'm waiting for the articles in men's magazines that explain how certain styles will flatter my figure. You know -- should I go the double-breasted look to appear more imposing? To correct for girlish shoulders, how much padding is too much? I've got a little too much tummy -- what to wear?! what to wear?!
Here's an ironic disconfirmation of Mr. Pitt's prediction: in Summer 2005, ABC aired a six-hour miniseries called ``Empire,'' putatively about the civil war that followed the assassination of Julius Caesar. It was comically anachronistic, and just wrong in places where it wasn't impossible. At one point, Octavius is shown lacing up his pants. What, no zippers?
Also, every so often the fire inspector comes around and demands that the hallways be cleared of these fire hazards. The obvious solution is to take the garbage back into the overcrowded lab. You'd love to call OSHA and have the accountants, firemen, and environmental experts duke it out, but you know they'd only shut down your project.
Journal catalogued by TOCS-IN.
Abbreviation used in cataloguing by TOCS-IN.
Tapuakh, `apple' in Modern Hebrew, has a less certain meaning in Biblical Hebrew. The Hebrew Bible refers at various places to tapuakh for a fruit tree and its sweet fruit, prized for its shade, etc. This unlikely to have been apple, because the apple was rare, not native, and had meager fruit where it did occur in Biblical areas. Various alternatives have been proposed (citron, quince, and apricot) each with its own botanical or historical problems. Fig and pomegranate are presumably ruled out by Joel 1:12, since this lists those along with tapuakh. There's also some ambiguous evidence from an Ugaritic tablet.
The Greek word mêlon, and malum and pomum in Latin, likewise evolved in the direction of increasing specificity, toward apple. Simultaneously, other fruit came to be called pomum de ambr', pomum bosci, etc., with ample apple etymons scattered across the grocery shelves of Europe. Interestingly, in Modern Hebrew potato is tapuakh adamah, reminiscent of the French construction (pomme de terre).
From the first issue (Nov. 1977) through September 1985, it was published in Bloomington, Indiana (by the Saturday Evening Club), where IU's main campus is located. Bob Tyrrell (R. Emmett Tyrrell, Jr.), who has always or virtually always been the magazine's editor-in-chief, was a right-wing provocateur or gadfly there as a student. (``Conservative provocateur'' sounds oxymoronic.) The editorial offices moved closer to the national political action in 1985 -- Arlington, Va.
David Brock was a prominent contributor with investigative pieces like ``The Real Anita Hill'' (March 1992, p. 18ff) The magazine had one or two splashy scoops in the way of Clinton scandal-mongering. (Didn't everyone? There was enough to go around.) Some time toward the end of the Clinton years, though, it ran into the ground; it was bought and completely remodeled for a different kind of audience that didn't happen to materialize. In the year 2001 a lot of marginal magazines folded (for another example, see the Zn entry). A year or so after that failure, TAS was refloated, again under Tyrrell's editorship. That's from memory; I'll have to check the details.
A political opinion magazine with a similar name but the opposite (left-wing) political, uh, view, is The American Prospect.
Oh, alright: it's a rorschach, but with black-and-white figures that are identifiably human rather than blotches. Created back in 1935 by Henry Murray and colleagues. The science of psychology has advanced so far in half a century that the test is now used in 1999.
There are also a Children's Apperception Test (CAT) and a Senior Apperception Technique (SAT).
Satellite phone link is higher-tech, but it has a major disadvantage: the speed of light is so slow that there is a noticeable delay in the transmission.
Members are informally called ``Tau Bates.'' For the next meeting, wouldn't it be cool if the conference venue were the Bates Motel? No, I guess not.
A glass case across from our Engineering Library entrance displays a number of framed and mounted commendations. A typical one reads
Okay, it's nice to know that the 2005 Convention is number 100, and I'm glad that we made the secretary happy. It's great to know that we won this commendation four times in the 1990's and all, but we need to find a more appropriate place to display this. Someplace less conspicuous, lest other chapters become envious, God forbid -- stranger things have been known to happen. The deserving people who actually made the perfect reports, especially if they have moved elswewhere, are the ones who deserve to have the commendations as mementos, to display in their own homes.
So many possibilities -- what a vague term!
``Now is the time to kill the `Taxasaurus' monster! Kill the dinosaur, kill him now! If you don't he's going to eat more jobs. So take this lead pencil and give him lead poisoning.Until the end of 2000, the other New York senator was a donnish Democrat, the late Daniel Patrick Moynihan [Ftnt. 5]. As source of freakishly contrasting senators, if not as a birthplace of presidents, New York still conceded nothing to Virginia. [Ftnt. 7]Kill him!''
Well, okay, Charles Shumer defeated D'Amato in the latter's bid for a fourth term in 1998. When Moynihan retired in 2000, he was replaced by his hand-picked successor, outgoing First Lady Hillary Rodham Clinton. Although famously thin-skinned, she was scrupulously correct and modest in office. She was widely expected to pull a Cornelia Wallace for 2008, but the voters didn't cooperate. More precisely, the voters in the Democratic primaries cooperated, but she lost the delegate race to Mr. Obama's superior performance in caucus states and with superdelegates.
"The age of chivalry is past," said May Dacre. "Bores have succeeded to dragons."
The Young Duke (1831), bk.ii, ch.5.
-- Benjamin Disraeli
More on the passing of the age of chivalry at the calculator entry.
Learn more at its entry in WebElements and its entry at Chemicool.
A total body workout is a set of routines to exercise the whole body, or a complete set of exercises or something. I don't think it can be regarded as an aggregation of workout for the whole body, and it's not very commonly referred to by the initialism TBW either.
A related disease caused by the same bacillus is scrofula.
Infection with Mycobacterium tuberculosis is extremely widespread. It is estimated that two billion people (or roughly one third of the world's population) is infected, that new infections occur at a rate of between 8 and 10 million per year, and about 2 million people die of TB each year.
Also expanded Tactical Ballistic Missile. I guess that lobbing one of these babies is mere tactics, while going intercontinental is strategic. I never really understood this terminology. Would that such knowledge were completely obsolete.
Hmmm .. theater tickets ... missive missiles ... it's practically the same acronym.
In March 1996, during the campaign for Taiwan's first direct presidential elections, the PRC test-fired ballistic missiles off the Taiwanese coast. Some of the missiles landed within sixty kilometers of Yonaguni (Japan's westernmost populated island). In a 1996 Joint Declaration of US President Bill Clinton and Japanese Prime Minister Ryutaro Hashimoto, Japan agreed to provide the US with logistical support during regional ``contingencies.''
In August 1998, North Korea fired a three-stage Taepo-dong 1 missile over the Tohoku region of Honshu (Japan's main island). A Pentagon report leaked in 1999 estimated that since 1996, China had stationed 150 to 200 M-9 and M-11 missiles aimed at Taiwan in its southern regions. In the years since these incidents, Japan has increased its cooperation with the US on TBMD.
Also abbreviated B&B, the show has been running since 1987, when the lead character, Brooke Logan, was played by Katherine Kelly Lang, born (Katherine Kelly Wegeman) in 1961. As of 2011, she's still playing the same role (now Brooke Logan Forrester). I guess at some point you stop worrying about getting typecast and start worrying about getting wrinkles.
According to Chad's Wikipedia entry at the time I checked, ``[i]n the 7th millennium BC, ecological conditions in the northern half of Chadian territory favored human settlement...'' That was probably the last time.
TC was founded in 1887 by Grace Hoadley Dodge as the New York School for the Training of Teachers. Dr. Nicholas Murray Butler was appointed its first president, and that same year he created a laboratory for performing experiments on children, called the Horace Mann Lincoln Institute for School Experimentation (see HML). That school became independent of TC in the 1940's.
TC actually got the name Teachers College, already without the apostrophe, along with its permanent charter in 1892. In 1894, it moved to its current digs on West 120th Street, hard by Columbia University, and in 1898 it became affiliated with Columbia University.
The words MENS SANA IN CORPORE SANO are engraved high on the front of Teachers College at Columbia (on West 120th Street, facing south to Pupin Hall, which houses Columbia's Physics Department). You want to know what those words mean? Go to school! I mean, look it up. At the ASICS entry.
John Dewey joined the faculty in 1904. This was regarded as a good thing.
One of the girls who hung around with the hoodlum gang a friend mine belonged to (back in the day) used to be called ``TC.'' This name was never in the vocative case, or even within her earshot. I'm not gonna tell you what it meant, but it had nothing to do with technical committees.
This had problems, however. In particular, in the low-energy regime the Higgs field self-coupling approaches zero, so it doesn't minimize energy with nonzero vacuum expectation (remember your basic Landau-Ginzburg theory). This is called the coupling problem, naturally enough. Another problem is the hierarchy problem: the Higgs mass is sensitive to the full spectrum of all particles of any mass, which suggests difficulties when one finally gets to four-force unification.
One bright idea to address these problems is to suppose that the Nambu-Goldstone (symmetry-breaking, mass-generating) bosons are not elementary but composite. A simple way to produce these is from a fermion-antifermion pair, like the pions (u/u-bar, d/d-bar). In TC, the fundamental fields that replace the Higgs scalars are two-component fermions that also give rise to mass.
Extended TechniColor (ETC) is an extension of this scheme, designed to address the problem that t and b quarks are a lot more massive than u, d, s and c.
Don't ask me what that means.
Learn more at its entry in WebElements and its entry at Chemicool.
Another source of approximation is that all modern textile mills are made to metric scale, and they typically have round numbers of threads per centimeter. Then 150 threads per cm would be 381 threads per in. Naturally, this number must be rounded, since non-round numbers feel rough and uncomfortable against tender customers' skin. Moreover, somebody is going to round 381tc up to ``390tc'' or ``400tc.'' In the absence of a legal requirement of exacting honesty, one can hardly expect other mills to label their equivalent textiles with the inferior-seeming ``380tc.'' Just hope they don't round to the nearest multiple of 500.
Alea iacta esto!
Okay, it seems that comment may be obscure. You may remember how, in the Prior item (not the prior entry; I mean the Arthur Norman Prior item), we talked about Julius Caesar and the Rubicon in a familiar way, as if it were a reference anyone should recognize. It's not that really, it's just a pivotal event in world history. The Latin phrase above is one guess (that of Erasmus) as to what exactly Caesar said as he crossed the Rubicon. (There are slightly differing reports of his precise words. The phrase given means `let the die be cast.' Another version, alea act est, means `the die is cast. Perhaps he said it in Greek.)
Anyway, to make a long story short, Caesar's crossing of the Rubicon was a signal act tantamount to a declaration of war (with the Senate, although that could always be smoothed over and talked away, and his sometime ally Pompey, who raised troops).
A degreasing agent and an HCl source for oxidation in IC manufacture, until its use was discontinued for ecological reasons.
A well-known version of this construction occurs in Aretha Franklin's cover of the song ``Respect.'' The song was written by Otis Redding, who recorded it in 1965; it charted #35 in the US. After Aretha Franklin's single ``I Never Loved A Man The Way I Loved You'' became a hit, Atlantic Records quickly arranged for her to record and put out an album (released under the same name as the hit single). ``Respect'' was one of the songs Aretha wanted to record. A number of changes were made to the lyrics, some necessary to change the perspective to that of a female singer. The lyric ``Take care, TCB'' was suggested by Aretha's sister Carolyn, who sang backup on the album. See the song's listing at the spelling in lyrics entry for more context. See also the entry for Sock it to me.
The TCC program provides up to twelve months of child care to working AFDC recipients upon loss of eligibility for AFDC due to increase in earnings from employment. The idea is obviously to diminish the economic disincentive to work provided by AFDC. TCC and AFDC-CC were created by Title III of the Family Support Act of 1988, Public Law 100-485.
``TCCS is a freely-available system to support what we call project control, a simple but powerful form of software configuration management. TCCS is implemented as a front-end to the two most common source control systems in POSIX-compliant environments, RCS and SCCS. TCCS provides a common command-line interface to both systems, and extends them by supporting multi-release, multi-user, multi-platform development.''
This is the WWWVL site for Tcl and Tk.
An interpreted script language. From the comments at whatis.com, I guess Sun supports it.
Oh! It's got an acronym, has it? Well, then -- it's legitimate.
Okay, maybe it's not that interesting.
Whaddaya mean, `and my first-born son'!?
Bill Hatanaka, ``Group Head Wealth Management, and Chairman & Chief Executive Officer TD Waterhouse'' at least as of May 2006, played four years of professional football with the old Ottawa Rough Riders and the Hamilton Tiger-Cats of the CFL, and was a member of the 1976 Ottawa team that won the Grey Cup Championship.
Joe Moglia, the CEO of TD Ameritrade. Before going into the financial services industry, he capped a 16-year coaching career as the defensive coordinator for Dartmouth College's football team. They say that this capped his coaching career, but in 2005 he published Coach Yourself to Success: Winning the Investment Game ``in which he explains the essential principles of investing.''
I think TD has really fumbled in not sponsoring any football team.
Drop-kick me Jesus through the goal-posts of life!
Oh wait, I think that's Australian football.
Back in the day, you'd mark an exposed rotating part (a fan-belt sheave mounted on the crankshaft, say) with chalk and adjust ignition timing with a strobe light that was in sync with the spark. Nowadays, with electronic ignition systems, the internal microprocessor adjusts timing, and when the timing is off you replace the computer. My 1990 Honda didn't even have a timing chain either: it had a toothed belt. And, of course, instead of a fan belt you've got an electric-powered fan that's activated according to engine temperature. The older engines were more mechanical and more interesting.
Cf. Latour-de-France, Le Tour de France, and Lance Armstrong.
The 1998 race came to be known as the ``Tour de Farce,'' after the Festina team car was found packed with drugs and needles.
Although the English word exploit and the Spanish word explotar are cognates that appear to have experienced similar semantic drift in recent years, their meanings do not quite coincide. Explotar does not refer to just any kind of profitable utilization. The kinds of mining done at Telluride qualify. For more on explotar, see the miga entry.
Tellurium. Atomic number 52. The heaviest chalcogen, unless you want to count elements with no stable isotopes. Now there are two such elements: polonium (Po), in the same group but nominally metallic (the pure stuff is a p-type semiconductor) and the element provisionally known as ununhexium (barf).
Learn more at its entry in WebElements and its entry at Chemicool.
Back when I used to work at Fermilab and other places where the wearing of radiation-monitoring badges was standard, I always heard stories about the guy who left his lab coat in the beam tunnel overnight, and how, after tag monitors were developed at the end of the month, an ambulance was sent to pick him up at home. Good story, anyway.
Fosse was balding and self-conscious about it, and derby hats were about as common on his dancers' heads as on Bolivian Indians'. He thought his hands were ugly, and white gloves were a frequent part of his and his dancers' costumes. He was slightly pigeon-toed, and sure enow, an exaggerated knees-together stance is part of Fosse's gestural vocabulary. Fosse also liked to use a splayed fingers. What personal deformity explained that?
See also the drip.
Venedikt died young. Too bad he could not take advantage of SARG.
Notice that the first Tears ingredient listed is mouthwash. According to a news item reported by CourtTV.com, mouthwash was the reason a woman in Michigan was charged with DUI after an automobile accident on January 9, 2005. She rear-ended a car at an intersection, and an officer at the scene observed that she appeared intoxicated. According to the officer, she failed a breathalyzer test but denied consuming any alcoholic drinks. She did say, however, that she had drunk three large glasses of Listerine. Spit it out! You're not supposed to swallow it! The arresting officer also found an open Listerine bottle in the car. According to the news item, Listerine brand mouthwash ``contains between 21.6 percent and 26.9 percent alcohol.'' (Is that by volume or weight? At room temperature, 22 wt.% is equivalent to 27 vol.% alcohol in water.)
The problem of widespread alcoholism did not end with the collapse of the Soviet Union. In a study published in The Lancet on June 15, 2007, it was estimated that the drinking of alcohol not meant for internal consumption (``surrogate alcohols'' like cologne and antiseptics) may account for nearly half of all deaths among working-age men in Russia. This simply extrapolates the 43% rate found in a thorough study of death among working-age men in Izhevsk, a city in the Urals. Dr. David Leon, of the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine, led a study that examined all deaths of men aged 25-54 in that city from 2003 to 2005. They also interviewed the men's closest relatives for information on the men's drinking and smoking habits, socio-economic class, etc. The study showed that the consumption of surrogate alcohol was the strongest predictor of mortality. Men who consumed it had an approximately six-fold greater mortality rate than men who didn't.
TEA-21 is the principal US transportation law at the federal level, superseding the similar ISTEA (1991). A notable feature of ISTEA continued in TEA-21 is the use of MPO's to provide local official input to funding decisions.
What, you wanted to know About technical documentation, as such?
What we mean by ``technical misnomenclature'' is technical terminology whose construction betrays what turned out to be a misunderstanding of the thing termed. So ``technical mis(by-reason-of-initial-error)nomenclature'' might be regarded as a better and more precise term. However, considerations of awkwardness or unwieldiness must be taken into account when one is not writing German. Without further ado, here's the complete and unabridged list of technical misnomenclature that I can think of offhand:
Thus, when the university web-page has a link labeled simply ``Technology,'' rather than something a little more specific, like ``Information Technology'' or ``the limited information-technology resources provided by the university for student use but wholly inadequate for research,'' that is arrogation and buffoonery. Similarly, when I receive instructions for requesting classroom space for next semester, and the instructions contain the statement ``[n]ot all classrooms have technology in them,'' that is a flatfooted error, about as bad as the misspellings in announcements for the too aptly named self-improvement courses. Thank you. Please save this information somewhere, preferably in your brain.
It seems others have noticed the problem. The preface of Edward Tenner's Our Own Devices (Knopf, 2003) begins ``Technology appears to have become a synonym for electronic systems. It should not be so. Just because microprocessors are all machines does not mean that all machines, even all important machines, are built around chips and circuits.'' [The book is subtitled ``The Past and Future of Body Technology.'' It's about clothing, shoes, helmets, ergonomic chairs, and the like.]
In October 2007, it was reported that a 28-year-old Virginia man had broken the US record for most tee shirts word at one time: 183, in sizes from S to 10XL. The world record remained at 224. The report said he ``donned them.'' I want to know how many he was able to put on by himself before he needed help, and if he took them off with a box cutter.
You might still remember the incident on a Southwest Airlines flight from Columbus, Ohio, to Tampa, Florida, which took place on Sunday, September 30, 2007. A man sitting in the last aisle was told by a cabin attendant that he had to change his tee shirt. It was a novelty item that described the wearer as ``Master Baiter.'' He bought it in the Virgin Islands. The airline later apologized. (The man was from Largo, Florida, where five days later a man used his clothes to steal a puppy.)
The TEEU is the largest engineering union in Ireland & the second largest in manufacturing representing up to 45,000 workers. The TEEU represent a broad range of workers throughout industry and public service. The TEEU in its membership includes:
- Craftworkers
- Technicians
- Specialists
- Skilled operatives
- General workers
- Technical, administration, supervisory & managerial staff
Pat Schroeder, then a witty US congresswoman (D-CO) is known for coining the phrase that led to the epithet of ``the teflon president'' for Ronald Reagan. Here is its genesis, as reported by the Atlanta Journal-Constitution on April 6, 1988.
She was frying eggs on the morning of August 2, 1983, and as she slid the eggs out of the frying pan,
she reflected on the way political accountability, in her view, slid off of President Reagan.
``I said, `He's just like this pan','' she recalled last week. ``Nothing sticks.''
Members of Congress may start the day's session with one-minute speeches, and this is how Rep. Schroeder started hers that day: ``Mr. Speaker, after carefully watching Ronald Reagan, he is attempting a great breakthrough in political technology--he has been perfecting the Teflon-coated presidency.''
So in origin the phrase did not slip smoothly but dangled, yet the teflon epithet did stick. (Actually, a fundamental difficulty with teflon coating is that it is intrinsically difficult to get teflon to stick. In that connection, see the razor's edge entry.)
You remember how Monsieur Jourdain felt, when he discovered he'd been speaking prose all his life and hadn't even known it? (If not, read the 40 entry and come back.) Well, now you can have a freebie like that too. It turns out that you've always known that teflon is an abhesive, and you never even knew that you knew it!
In the announcement, I included the following apt ``quote'':
Quasi Caesar: Gallium est omne partitum, inter radicis tres. (The Chemical Beam Wars, Book I)
There was some discussion of this (and some more, but poster John Price-Wilkin is now elsewhere) on the CAAL mailing list.
The Modern Hebrew words t'lulit (`hillock'), talul, (`hilly'), and the word talil, `lofty' that appears in the Targumim (as you can imagine, here I'm cribbing here from Brown-Driver-Briggs) suggest that the original root was tav-lamed-lamed. Arabic and Syriac cognates are biconsonantal, although an apparent Old Aramaic cognate is triconsonantal (tav-lamed-yod). The evidence suggests that the Proto-Semitic root was triconsonantal, but that the two final ells converged, or assimilated if you can call it that, in a case where the vowel between them was a shwa. (This is what it suggests to me. In the compressed style of Brown-Driver-Briggs, perhaps it was considered too obvious for comment.) The question is where and when, and possibly how, that change took place.
It's been suggested that the two-consonant word was borrowed from Assyrian. Assyrian is an East Semitic language that was heavily influenced by Sumerian (a non-Semitic language). The loss of aleph, ayin, and back fricatives (excellent consonants to lose, if you ask my throat), and their replacement by vowels, severely compromised the integrity of the triconsonantal structure of the language. Assyrian was written using Sumerian script, though among the scribes there some knowledge of the alphabetic script used by the Phoenicians, and apparently some awareness of the originally triconsonantal basis of Assyrian. But if tel was borrowed from the Assyrian tilu, it was presumably borrowed from Assyrian speech.
I was born the day before my grandfather's birthday; my father sent a telegram:
``HAPPY BIRTHDAY GRANDPA I WAS BORN YESTERDAY STOP
''
One should be alert for those rare opportunities that allow one to realize a figure of speech.
There's a stretch of road near the Princeton University campus that is closed for a day or so each year. The story (I have not confirmed) goes that this action is legally required to demonstrate continued interest in and ownership of the road by the university. If it's true, maybe they could just delegate someone to drive slowly in a wide vehicle, answering everyone with ``Yes, as a matter of fact I do own the road!''
It's been quite a few years since I was born. Does anybody really still use telegrams? ``Marge'' has also gone somewhat out of fashion (which is probably why Homer Simpson's radical-beehive-coiffed wife is named Marge). In any case, any Margaret can always call herself by the etymologically mysterious ``Peggy.'' In the circumstance, there's no point in holding back for a more opportune moment to release the following palindromes:
Marge lets Norah see Sharon's telegram.
Telenovelas are rarely open-ended, as American soap operas typically are. The earliest telenovelas aired once or twice a week and ran for a year or less. Today they typically last 120 or 150 episodes, airing 5 or 6 times a week for half a year. This difference is probably the main reason for not treating `soap opera' or `prime-time soap opera' as the English translation of telenovela, and for instead simply borrowing the Spanish term. I've also seen the loan translation ``ópera de jabón'' used in Spanish.
For someone like me, who has watched a total of perhaps 3 or 4 hours of telenovelas on Univision and Telemundo in his entire life, the duration of a series is not noticeable or usually even knowable. If you want a broad survey representing, for all I know, millions of hours of viewing, see the Wikipedia entry. Following are just the salient features from my own perspective.
Most of the actresses and many of the actors are, as in American soap operas, very attractive. The hair tends to be more luxuriant. I was surprised to see waist-length, smooth, bottle-blond hair, on a man, in a historical (Colonial-era) show, but I think he was supposed to be an Anglo. Some of the characters (particularly the less gorgeous older men, I guess) are conveniently rich and powerful. Big surprise there, too. Personal servants of various sorts -- chauffeurs, valets, etc. -- figure in the stories as they do not, I think, in US soaps.
A frequently-used sound effect is the thunderclap. When I first noticed it in El Diablo de los Guapos, I thought it was a distant gunshot or explosion. It's used as punctuation when someone receives shocking news or a revelation. If they're not careful with the timing, some actress is bound to seem as if her jaw fell open because she was shot in the back. As in American soaps, the background noise is either feeble or unnaturally absent. It's particularly noticeable, of course, during the breaks between atmospheric music and scripted speech.
A feature I was pleased to see much in absence was the common daytime-soap practice of people speaking to the backs of others in the foreground, so both can face the camera. Maybe this reflects the fact that showing someone your back is a greater social provocation among Latins. Then again, it might be a diachronic thing. Screens are getting wider; I haven't seen an English-language daytime soap in a while, and maybe the trend is now to spread actors' heads further apart (sounds surgical, no?) so they can speak while facing forward or almost forward beside each other.
Cleverly or perhaps just sensibly, on at least some telenovelas, the episodes (Spanish translation: los episodios) are called capítulos, `chapters.' A major subgenre of telenovelas is set in the colonial era. These shows are striking because they are like and unlike US westerns. On one hand, horseback and coaches are the main forms of transportation apart from feet. Along with the clothing and scenery, they immediately remind one of westerns, the main US genre featuring horses. On the other hand, westerns are set in the US West during a relatively brief period of rapid expansion and proverbial lawlessness. The Mexican genre represents a more settled civilization. One immediately wonders why so few movies, never mind TV programs, are set in the American East during the long era before the introduction of the automobile.
This evening an attractive young woman asked if she could have my home phone number. With flat affect, I just said ``no.'' She doesn't usually get no for an answer, but she saw the humor in the situation and her smile broadened. I was paying with cash anyway, but I'm sure she realized that I'm the kind of guy who doesn't follow the crowd; I'm classy, even if I do dress like a homeless person. I've got to shop more often at K's Merchandise; they make me feel like a rock star.
In the US, the busy signal should be 480 and 620 Hz interrupted at 1 Hz. Normal ringing should be 350 and 440 Hz, 2 seconds on, 4 off. Ten rings is a minute. Hang up already! [Unless you have automatic camp-on.] Cf. RG.
Lookee here. And this site too.
I know what you're thinking, but no, it's not a political party.
'
,N'
-TEtraMethylEthyleneDiamine.
Catalyst for polymerization.
Once a woman in a library paused and needed help pronouncing Chaminade. ("Shah-m'NOD," secondary stress on the first syllable, of course.) I didn't want to embarrass her, so I didn't add that -- as everyone else recalls -- the biggest upset in college basketball history took place when the No. 1-ranked Virginia Cavaliers, with the No. 1-ranked college player Ralph Sampson, were shocked in Honolulu by little Chaminade, an 800-student NAIA school. Chaminade player Richard Haenisch recalled
Nobody knew how to say our name. They thought it rhymed with ``lemonade.'' Then you heard people say, ``Yes, Virginia, there is a Chaminade.''
The historic game took place on December 23, 1982. What many regard as the pivotal play was an alley-oop to Tim Dunham. Haenisch, now a broker in Los Angeles, recalled ``Dunham said he was 6-1 or 6-2. He was 5-10.'' (For more on lying about heights, see the recent photograph entry.) Twenty years later, Dunham is the pastor of the Greater Faith Missionary Baptist Church in Pittsburg, California, and I'm tempted to list that church in the nomen est omen entry. He doesn't discuss his height, but he does say this:
Every once in a while you meet people who ask me what I did, and I make mention of that victory. And it's ``Oh yeah, I remember that.''
You know, there really isn't any such thing as a French language. What they do is, they sprinkle some accents on English words, scramble the word order a bit, and pronounce it funny. Basically, it's just bad English.
Cf. franglais.
An explanation of his revolutionary brushless AC motor is given in Jack Foran's ``The Day They Turned The Falls On: The Invention Of The Universal Electrical Power System.''
[E]quals is in quotes above because different electromagnetic units correspond to different systems of equations. In general, one does not directly measure a quantity like magnetic field or even mass, but measures, say, the motion of a charged or massive particle and derives the field or mass from an appropriate equation. Although any given set of equations is equivalent to any other, the relations between various quantities differ by multiplicative factors (typically factors of four pi between rationalized and unrationalized systems, and dimensional factors like c as well). In other words, the statement the ``one tesla equals 10,000 gauss'' should be interpreted in the following way: if the magnetic induction (BrMKS) in a rationalized-MKSA description has a magnitude of 1 tesla, then the magnetic induction (Bcgs) in cgs-Gaussian units has a magnitude of 104.
There are no excellent descriptions of the situation that I am aware of, but a good explanation, covering the most popular systems to a greater or lesser extent, is given in Jackson
TESOL is one of those few organizations that is not a US college or university but that has an .edu domain name. After launching a new site at the their .org domain, they stopped updating the .edu site.
If four atoms (``nearest neighbors'') are at a constant distance from some other (``central'') atom, while the sum of the distances (or squared distances) among themselves is maximal, then the four neighbors are arranged at the corners of a tetrahedron, at equal distances sqrt(8/3) a from each other, where a is the distance from the central atom to any of the nearest neighbors. The angle between any two neighbors, measured from the center, is the ``tetrahedral angle'' Arccos(-1/3) ~= 109.47° ~= 1.910633 radians from each other.
Maximization problems like this (sometimes called ``dictators on a planet'' problems) are quite difficult to treat analytically or generally in cases where the number of points whose separation sum is to be maximized does not equal the number of vertices in a regular solid.
Bible purchases go up in bad times. I suppose you could put them in your portfolio as an anticyclical hedge. To judge from this CNN article, Bible sales rise ten to twenty percent during recessions.
TeX is a bit inconvenient to learn, but equivalent functionality is available nowhere else. Also, unlike the equation editor in Framemaker, it won't leave you raving in anger, usually.
The most vicious swordsman of text-critical combat was A. E. Housman, and it's surprising I don't have a good example of his rapier wit eviscerating some inferior prior editor of Manilius, say. I'll have to find some later. (For an example of his general cattiness, see Housman, A. E.) I only came here to give an example from Samuel Johnson...
In 1744, Sir Thomas Hanmer published an Oxford edition of Shakespeare's works. It came out in time for Samuel Johnson, who was writing Observations on Macbeth (1745), to add a section to it of Remarks on Sir T.H.'s Edition of Shakespeare, which included this nice bit, which I can only think to call an extended paralipsis:
Surely the weapons of criticism ought not to be blunted against an editor who can imagine that he is restoring poetry while he is amusing himself with alterations like these....
The above is based on J.A.'s communication with Antreas P. Hatzipolakis, quoted in Anopolis.
Numerous improvements have been suggested over the years, principally to incorporate exchange effects. [Or exchange and correlation effects, since TF has traditionally been compared to Hartree-Fock (HF) theory.] For a thorough review of Thomas-Fermi theories, see Elliott H. Lieb: ``Thomas-Fermi and Related Theories of Atoms and Molecules,'' Reviews of Modern Physics, 53, 603-641 (Oct. 1981).
In 1960 or 61, Edward Teller proved a surprising theorem, that under naïve TF theory there was no binding of neutral molecules. Despite the nonbinding theorem, TF theory eventually turned out to play a rôle in proving the stability of matter (not that the stability of matter was ever much in doubt, but one wanted to know that it is guaranteed within the quantum formalism we use).
The logical continuation of Thomas-Fermi theory is in electron density functional theory (DFT).
Gee, the number of gospels is proliferating. In the Summer of 2002 the Bible Review has an article by Charlie Hedrick on ``the 34 gospels.''
Much later, a more `rigorous' derivation was given by Julian Schwinger in Phys. Rev. A 22, 1827 (1980), obtaining the same coefficient of Z² in the correction.
Texas teachers do not have collective bargaining.
In many other countries, the area codes (or ``city codes'') are distinguished by the fact that they begin in zero (wait long enough after the zero without entering another digit and you get an operator). You omit the zero if you're dialing in from out-of-country.
TRU is one company mentioned here with the TGP area code.
This page has some pictures and speed records. The Washington University of Saint Louis electronic picture archive has a number of jpegs of French high speed trains:
Learn more at its entry in WebElements and its entry at Chemicool.
Its area is 16,171 sq. km. The population in 1997 was about 2.5 million. The capital is Weimar. Thuringia is in the part of Germany that used to be East Germany, but it went out of existence as a separate state in 1934 and was only reconstituted following reunification in 1990.
At Eats 'n' Sweets, an ice-cream-and-pizza place on PA-611 in Scotrun, the garbage bins say
_________ ________ | TRASH || FEED | | MONSTER || ME | |_________||________| THANK YOU
That's how it is: with the big chains you get consistency. With the independents you get personality.
I suppose that there's a lot more material, particularly moving-image material, available for WWII than for earlier historical events, but the prevalence of WWII programs must reflect some editorial decision-making as well. THC could probably put together a pretty substantial retrospective on how the war went in Vietnam -- wouldn't that be fun?
As you can tell from the wussy punches I'm landing, my heart isn't really in the task of lampoo--er, I mean writing a glossary entry for THC. The truth is that THC is my favorite TV channel, and in recent years I probably haven't gone more than a semester without watching at least a half hour of it. It's a shame I didn't watch any TV during the week that Nielsen had me fill out a diary; I'd've been happy to contribute to their statistics.
As long as I'm here and I'm not contributing anything useful, I might as well unload my burden of opinions about the popular presentation of nonfiction in general. I'm not going to discuss news, since I'm still getting over a cold and I don't think my stomach could handle that.
(This bit is under construction, see?)
Let's take a moment here to recall Lyndon Johnson's alleged comment about Gerald Ford -- that he was so stupid he couldn't walk and chew gum at the same time. This was widely reported when Gerald Ford was appointed US Veep, replacing ``disgraced former Vice President'' Spiro Agnew, and again when he assumed the presidency, replacing disgraced former president Richard Nixon (and again any time news cameras caught the athletic president stumbling). You could claim that Ford advanced because of his personal virtues, but that wouldn't be the complete story. Later it was revealed that the chew-gum version was a bowdlerization, and what LBJ had really said was that Ford couldn't fart at the same time. (Later yet it turned out that the retailer of the revised version was unable to provide a source for his claim. But what does evidence matter? Details at the Veep entry.) People seemed to think that the earthier version was more demeaning to one or both of the former presidents, but they're wrong. Was it walk-and-fart or chew-gum-and-fart? I forget. Either way, it may require careful sphincter control with simultaneous control of nearby (walking) or other GI-tract-related (gum) muscles. Now look, if you're not interested in the larger point I'm trying to make, you could read something else about reporter language competence or something else about the accidental president.
(To be continued.)
The sum of the square roots of the sides equals the square root of the hypotenuse, according to the scarecrow's acceptance address.
Square root of the ratio of power in all harmonics (or very commonly for audio, all harmonics up to 20 kHz) to power in signal.
More at the TDA entry.
Thirty centuries ago, as history emerged from the mists of ancient legend, an Athenian hero named Hekademos owned some land about a mile northwest of Athens. He donated the land to the city for a park, and over the years it was developed into a center for religion, sports, and education. In 388 or 387 BCE, a former playwright and politician named Aristocles established his own school in that park. Aristocles was better known by a nickname meaning `broad' or `wide,' which may have referred to his being broad-shouldered or to his having a wide forehead. The Greek root for `flat' and `broad' is related to the English word ``flat'': plat-. Aristocles was called Plato.
The park where Plato taught was named Hekademeia, and eventually Akademeia (these names seem more similar in Greek than English). Plato's school became so famous that eventually, Akademeia (our word Academy) came to refer to his school and his followers.
The phenomenon occurs in other languages, of course, but the only one that occurs to me is DKW, which received an alternate expansion of ``das kleine Wunder.'' One English acronym based on transliterated Arabic words is AQI, in which the A stands for al, the Arabic definite article. The same word is usually el when transliterated from the Egyptian variety of Arabic, and ul when transliterated from Punjabi, but mostly it has entered European languages as al or the syncopated form a-.
Spanish has a number of nouns borrowed from Arabic which still have the definite article al attached. For example, cotton is algodón. It's such a common phenomenon that it gives rise to overcorrection, as in almirante (`admiral'). [As explained at the VADM entry, the word was borrowed with an al on the end. The final l was lost, but the initial a was converted to an al.]
Sometimes, typically through French, this overcorrection enters English. For example, almond, immediately from French, is ultimately from the ancient Greek amygdálê (whence also amygdala, of course), by way of Spanish almendra. See also aceite.
Interestingly, where German has borrowed French words ending in -re, it has also inverted the final order. The German pronunciation of the final -er is similiar to the British, so the final consonant arr is present practically only in the imagination. The difference (from British) in German spelling reflects the fact that German is substantially phonetic. French borrowings in English normally preserve their original spelling, but that does not normally conflict with their pronunciation. Maintaining the final -re in Theatre would conflict with the German pronunciation, which uses the sound conventionally written -er (and pronounced virtually identically with -e) in native German words.
The Kennedy Center in Washington, DC, uses the -er spelling in its name, of course (rather than centre). The KC is one of the few organizations involved in theatre in the US that persists in the theater spelling. They sponsor an ``American College Theater Festival'' that everyone else spells ``American College Theatre Festival.''
In our discussion of Fred Stone, there's a review from the first decade of the 20th century which uses the -re spelling. However, the origin of the quote is uncertain, and it's been through a couple of secondary sourcings (and possible spelling modifications).
One Thebes was an ancient Greek city, and now is ancient Greek ruin. It was one of the major settlements of Greece at least as far back as the early bronze age. One day back when I worked at ASU, I gave a ride home to a French colleague. As we were southbound on Rural Road, approaching her apartment, she asked me where I lived, and I said, ``two miles south'' or something close to that. She remarked that that was a very American way to answer. I suppose it's also very American to think that there wasn't any more sensible way to answer, and anyway the local landmarks were unknown to her. It's not like Tempe has named ``neighborhoods.'' (There are also studies that suggest that men find their way more by distances and directions, and women tend to go more by landmarks.) Anyway, it might explain my frustration with descriptions like ``on the south edge of the eastern plain of Boetia.'' Greek Thebes is about 50 km NNW of Athens.
Thebes is also the name of an ancient Egyptian city, about 200 km downriver from Swenet (modern Aswan), or 400 km north of the Sudan border. The ancient Egyptian name of the city was Waset.
Bergman received some of his early medical training at Oxford, but his internship was at Beth Israel Medical Center in New York City. Beth Israel is a popular name for synagogues and for hospitals that were originally or are Jewish-affiliated. Beth is the common Hebrew word meaning `house.' The th in this word is generally pronounced like the th in Elizabeth (no, not a coincidence). The th transliterates a tav without a dot inside. Oh no! Not another phonology tangent! Let's just leave it as is.
A note about the pronunciation: four syllables, mostly obvious. Despite the etymology, and despite models like anionic and cationic (which have the same accentual stress pattern), the first letter i is pronounced like a long e rather than a long i. When I write ``is pronounced'' I mean that since I first heard the term in school in the 1970's, in the half-a-dozen years I did research in hot-electron systems, and in all the other years that I have regularly heard the term from other physicists and electrical engineers across the US (and probably from time to time at international conferences elsewhere), I never heard it pronounced any other way until I clicked on the hear-it link at the Merriam-Webster entry for thermionic and heard some nasal North American voice model mispronounce it with the long i that M-W claims is in the pronunciation. The American Heritage Dictionary makes the same error. These dictionaries claim to give the American pronunciation. I suppose the long i might be in a British pronunciation, or not be phonemically distinguished from the vowel in an Australian pronunciation.
A similar bit of dictionary pronunciation nescience concerns the word gigawatt. In the movie Back to the Future, Doc pronounces this word with a soft initial gee. That pronunciation is sanctioned by the same two dictionaries cited above for botching the thermionic pronunciation. The ignorant use of dictionaries' fanciful pronunciations of technical vocabulary is a reliable indication that no technically competent person had any influence in the concoction of the story. I remember a bunch of years ago when a local news team visited the Engineering Research Center (ERC) at ASU to report on an expensive piece of prestigious equipment that I have sound reason to suspect they understood not at all. It was fun to watch the handsome newsface repeat ``mo-LE-cyoo-ler beam EP-i-TAX-ee,'' rolling the phrase around in his mouth so it would come out real smart-like. I'm glad he took the effort; he was doing his job conscientiously. (It reminds me of learning the German word ausgezeichnet in seventh grade, when that seemed like a long word to us.)
The anonymous content provider of bigwaste.com (gives the game away, huh?) writes:
In fact
, many individuals who have worked with computers and electronics
for the last several decades will confirm that they used to pronounce gigabyte
as "jigabyte."
Setting aside the question of how practical a unit the gigabyte was even as
recently as 1990, and refraining from claiming that these are probably the
same many individuals who thought that the vi editor
was called ``six,'' I note only that parallels, as in the case of anionic and
thermionic, do not rule usage.
If the metal is at a negative voltage relative to some nearby electrode (or more generally if there is an electric field in the direction of the metal), some of those electrons will fail to be reabsorbed, and will instead flow toward a more positive electrode, giving rise to a current. This current flow or discharge was the effect reported by Guthrie in 1873. Edison rediscovered the effect independently in 1880, and patented it, while perfecting incandescent light bulbs. This current effect, as opposed to the emission effect, also has fair claim to be called ``the Edison effect.''
Thermoosmosis is osmosis under conditions of a temperature differential. To review: osmosis is material transport across (i.e. through) a membrane in response to a concentration difference between the two sides. The situation as normally envisioned involves a solid, permeable membrane separating regions filled with fluid (gas or liquid). Osmosis is a general transport phenomenon, and as such may occur near to or far from equilibrium conditions. Umm, more words coming here. Basically, in thermoosmosis, the concentration difference is balanced not only by transport and osmotic pressure difference, but also by temperature difference across the membrane.
Notice also the shift to a less personal voice. The conventional and preferred style of scientific and technical writing minimizes reference to the author and to personal agents. It is understood that the author or authors performed the necessary work, and that otherwise assistance will be explicitly acknowledged and credited. It is considered a bit unprofessional to draw attention to oneself, even though this may require extensive use of the passive voice and too much reliance on mushy abstract nouns instead of punchy verbs. With the exception of slumming, baby-talking introductory texts, the textbooks for college courses generally conform to this dry pattern. That may be contrasted with the better class of computer language books, which are bought voluntarily rather than for classes. The personal voice (and more extensive use of the second person) is more frequently found in textbooks for some of the social sciences.
The impersonality and affectlessness of scientific discourse is a pose, to some extent, but it is also an earnest of scientists' commitment to disinterestedness and thus to scrupulous honesty. To a great degree, science succeeds not just because it is intellectually serious -- as philosophy with its formal ``theses'' has been for 25 centuries -- but because it recognizes human limitations. The practice of testing, experiment, and confirmation of various sorts recognizes the limits of human reason in the face of natural variety: understanding is always approximate and imperfect, and logic applied to approximate concepts is not reliable. Similarly, scientific detachment is a recognition of the limits of human reason in the face of human emotion. When a researcher has a strong preference for a particular research conclusion, confirmation bias and simple obtuseness can overwhelm the researcher's sincere desire to be truthful and furnish the heart's desire, no matter the reality. As a defense against this weakness, one introduces a focus on process, on playing the game well rather than ``winning.''
In the nineteenth century, the success of science led people like Auguste Comte to consider how that success could be reproduced in other fields. There were some admirable efforts, like those of Émile Durkheim, to put the study of society on some kind of objective, quantitative, almost experimental basis, and thus arose the ``human sciences'' as distinguished from the older disciplines (the ``humanities,'' originally humaniora) examining the same general subject using a different scholarly approach. The work of early sociologists like Durkheim and Weber has been combed over, thoroughly criticized, and superseded. But a fair assessment must recognize, on the one hand, the muddled, detail- and exception-rich nature of human society. This continues to limit the generality and accuracy of ``facts'' and ``results'' in sociology to such an extent that I use scare quotes around the words. Notice the shift to an informal register? One little pronoun can do all that. Anyway, that recognition is necessary to compare early sociology fairly with its contemporary science. On the other hand, to compare that sociological research with recent work, it is worth remembering that statistical methods only began to be developed starting in the eighteenth century (to understand games of chance, and later to make best use of limited astronomical data). The most elementary statistical measures and tools now taken for granted in sociology are indeed mostly trivial in mathematical terms (though they don't seem that way to the sort of person who typically goes into sociology), but their development nevertheless represented a conceptual challenge.
You know, I've really veered away here from what I wanted to say. All this in-fairness-to-Durkheim stuff was incidental to the observation that scientific method, as such, has tended to be misunderstood. As described by high-school teachers, it seems like a recipe or formula that magically turns out fact, and that is somehow disconnected from human nature. One can understand that the how-you-play-the-game party line of scientists might engender this subtly flawed view. Students should be made to understand that there is not a single scientific method, and that scientific method is not an arbitrarily constructed well into the aquifers of knowledge, but instead is intimately related to human reality. In every science, the general form of scientific method is adapted to the particularities of the subject matter. (Astronomy was a successful science when all that could be called ``experiments'' were alternative measurement methods. Behavioral science leans on ``control groups'' which hard sciences can safely eschew.) What is constant, or should be, is humility: the understanding that scientific method is the best we can do given the failure of unassisted reason. Science aggressively seeks to discover its own failures. Logically, excluding whatever we can demonstrate to be false does not guarantee that we will discover what is true. We only discover what is contingently not-known-to-be-false. Such are the limitations of inductive reasoning. Yet it works.
Hmm. We keep going off course. What I had intended to do, getting back to the initial tangent to the thesis definition, was not to define or describe scientific method, or to preface that by an apology for the limitations of science in sticky disciplines, but to observe something about language use and the personal voice. Just as schoolteachers give a rigid, somewhat unfaithful rendering of scientific method, it was probably inevitable that social scientists would fetishize, make a cargo cult of method. Today, much of social science research (particularly ed research and criminology) is garbage, and this cannot be taken out by improved scientific method. Rather, it requires a renewed commitment to the scientific attitude that is parallel to scientific method. Simply put, a researcher who cannot accept a possible research result is not qualified to perform the research. If you are confident that your cherished views won't be a problem because your views will be borne out by your research, you are probably right on the latter point; however, your research is not science but theology. And your language will betray you, if you cannot bear to allow undesired results their place in the gallery of the possible. So too, to that extent, your thesis presents not your results but your preconceptions: you. Suppressing the personal voice in scientific writing is not necessary or sufficient for scientific detachment. It is rather an expression of intent, a deference to hard fact, a reverence for the sacred that's-just-how-it-is. Amen.
(Of course, a skilled glossarist can use the personal voice. Don't try this at home.)
Thesis has nothing to do with tmesis, you can take my word. Honest, you don't have to check!
The ``third way'' is usually intellectually incoherent, and that is its greatest virtue. Reality is messy, and a complaisant ideological attitude is usefully flexible. To see just how incoherent, see ``Writers Try To Describe the Radical Middle, a page served with a pretty straight face by Radical Middle Political Newsletter: Thoughtful Idealism, Informed Hope.
In the aftermath of John Kerry's defeat in the 2004 US presidential election, one of the groups trying to direct how the Democratic party regroups has called itself ``Third Way.''
The boy failing to call us up as I commanded, I was angry, and resolved to whip him for that and many other faults, to-day. Early with Sir W. Pen by coach to Whitehall, to the Duke of York's chamber, and staid a great while with the Duke. Home, and to be as good as my word, I bade Will get me a rod, and he and I called the boy up to one of the upper rooms of the Comptroller's house towards the garden, and there I reckoned all his faults, and whipped him soundly, but the rods were so small that I fear they did not much hurt to him, but only to my arm, which I am already, within a quarter of an hour, not able to stir almost. After supper to bed.
(Incidentally, the Duke of York was the future King James II, even more than his father Charles II a good friend to Pepys. Sir W. Pen, as Pepys mostly or always wrote the name, was the father of the Quaker William Penn, and it is in fact Sir William who is the eponym of Pennsylvania.)
``Optimization''? Are you kidding?
Thm.: His jokes are funny.
Pf.: He's your boyfriend.
This theorem can be understood in two very different ways, depending on whether his jokes really are funny or not.
It is very common for personals ads to claim that she's looking for someone with a sense of humor, someone who can make her laugh [she means this in a nice way], etc. Back in the 1990's, someone ran a reality check on this and found cognitive dissonance: when personals ads were divided into three categories -- straightforward, hard-to-get, and funny -- the funny ads were found to be the least effective at generating replies (even playing hard-to-get worked better).
Dang -- now I find out!
<a href="http://thomas.loc.gov"> <img src="http://thomas.loc.gov/images/link.gif" alt="[Link to THOMAS Home Page]"></a">to produce a flush-looking button like
The 1931 Thorndike count was based on a corpus of about 10 million words The other three studies each used a corpus of at least, but apparently not much more than, 4.5 million words. Frequencies, stated as number of occurrences per 4.5 million words, are given for each of the four base studies. (Frequencies are listed precisely only up to 1000 per 4.5 million.)
In order to come up with an overall estimate of frequency, the frequencies of the four studies are averaged. This is a bit tricky (``exercises of judgment have been necessary,'' p. v), because lemmatization and the treatment of contractions, abbreviations, proper nouns, and the most common words differed among the studies. Some of these average frequencies are marked by an asterisk (indicating an estimate) or a question mark (when frequency determination depends in large part on the extremely frequent use of a word in one of the counts). [Question marks in data from base studies indicate other problems.] The averaged frequencies are given in occurences per million up to 49, and then as either ``A'' (50-99 per million) or ``AA'' (100 or more per million). The Thorndike-Lorge data I mention in this glossary are the averaged frequencies.
Material towards a future co-author entry:
On the title page, ``By Edward L. Thorndike and Irving Lorge''
appears below the title, and the copyright is held by Teachers College.
The 1944 word book was apparently compiled by Thorndike.
The preface, however, was written by Thorndike in the first person singular.
He thanked Dr. Irving Lorge for his work on their ``Lorge-Thorndike semantic
count and the Lorge magazine count, and for his generosity in permitting me to
use the results.'' Below the preface, an unsigned ``[w]e acknowledge'' help
from the Rockefeller Foundation and the W.P.A. for help on the same two word
counts. The date on that page is February 1943.
``Thorndike'' -- what a wonderful old-fashioned surname. Whatever happened to the Thorndikes? Did they stop having sons? (As it happens, R.L. Thorndike, Edward Lee's son, was the father's student and followed him into the field of educational psychology.)
I suppose this deserves credit for homonymy.
I remember when Cher's nose used to sing
Charleston was once the rage, uh huh...
History has turned the page! Uh-hu-uh.
Well the beat goes on.
Credit unions are distinguished from other thrifts in being ``cooperative organizations'' owned by their depositors, who are ``members.'' Typically, membership is restricted in some way -- to workers in a particular company or profession, say, or people living in a particular region. (I have the impression that the criteria have tended to become looser over time.) Once you're a member, however, you can stay a member even if you cease to satisfy the criteria for joining. When the term ``bank'' is used strictly, credit unions are the most likely of thrifts to be excluded.
The difference between a ``savings and loan'' and a ``savings bank'' is mostly historical. I've encountered two or three different kinds of explanations of the difference, and they're probably consistent. One is that they originally developed in different parts of the US, and another that they functioned somewhat differently, in one case focusing on home mortgages and in the other doing a fair amount of business in commercial real-estate mortgages, but without becoming commercial banks. When I get it sorted out I'll fix the entry.
The federal deposit-insurance organization for credit unions is NCUA. The corresponding entity for savings banks and S&L's was the FSLIC until 1989...
Until about the 1970's, thrifts could not have checking accounts (or ``share draft'' accounts, as the credit unions call them), and in return for this and for limiting their loan business (as described above), they were allowed to pay a slightly higher interest rate on deposits. These and various other fetters were removed for very good reasons, but a consequence was a meltdown of the thrifts in the 1980's.
In 1989, the Financial Institutions Reform Recovery and Enforcement Act (FIRREA) was passed into law. It dissolved the FSLIC, putting the accounts previously insured by the FSLIC under the FDIC, which had previously insured deposits only in commercial banks. FIRREA also created the Resolution Trust Corporation, a US-government-owned company set up to liquidate the assets, manage the bankruptcy, or steward the sale of the large number of insolvent thrifts. More about that at the RTC entry.
A TV show that was primarily a send-up of ``The Man from U.N.C.L.E.'' was Get Smart. Its bad guys' organization was KAOS.
HTH!
The closest I've come to finding an etymology or meaning of the surname Thurber is in Reaney and Wilson, which lists Thurban, Thurbon, Thurburn, Thorborn, Thoubboron, Thoburn, Turbin, Tarbun, and various less common forms, though not Thurber.
Like most ``English'' names, it is of Norman origin. In particular, it stems from Old Danish and Old Swedish Thorbiorn, and similar Old Norse, meaning `Thor-bear.' That doesn't make a lot of sense to me, and apparently it didn't make much more sense to the English, who Anglicized it to Þurbeorn, `Thor-warrior.' We'll call it an improvement.
Atomic number 22. In the first period of transition metals.
Learn more at its entry in WebElements and its entry at Chemicool.
A project for data-mining that combines government and commercial records of people in the US, proposed and beginning (2005) to be implemented as a component of the war on terror. It's not immediately clear whether this is constitutional or legal. Cf. TIPS.
Colorless. Pyrophoric, of course.
Note that in this abbreviation, the letter dee does not stand for dose, as in the next TID entry.
No. No punchline.
Walking through ASU campus one day, I saw a couple ambling along in faded jeans, tie-dyes, loose hair, little pink wire-frame glasses and love beads. It was early afternoon, 1989. I asked: ``What are you doing in this decade?'' I got an unloving stare for an answer. That, or they were still coming down from a bad high. Guys, if you're reading this now, I apologize.
An alternative expansion of SBF is Scenes From a life. The B is silent.
In detail, the city computes a base rate of tax revenues from the TIF district, essentially the pre-TIF rates plus expected changes without TIF investment. The various taxation districts are at least partly funded by property taxes. [Which ones and how much varies by state, but school districts, townships or boroughs (in the sense of parts of cities), cities and counties are typically included.] Under a TIF plan, those districts continue to receive their respective shares of the base revenue. Any increment above that is diverted to a special fund to pay for improvements. Typically, these repay development bonds, but some increment monies may be used for further pay-as-you-go improvements. (Obviously, if it is possible to fund pay-as-you-go improvements from the beginning of the program, before any improvements have been made to increase revenue, then either there's an error in the base-revenue calculation, or else there's something more complicated going on, like a major private-public partnership.)
TIF is typically used to fund clearing of abandoned and derelict properties, land acquisition and infrastructure development. The scheme seems to be very popular with Chicago's Mayor Richard Daley. As of mid-August 1999, there were 72 (up three from July 1), covering 13,000 acres and 8% of assessed real-estate valuation. (Update April 8, 2002: 117 in Chicago, out of 600 for Illinois as a whole.) More than half of the TIF districts are within the southlands. Chicago Southland Development, Inc. (CSDI) has a good page.
The prediction of revenues spanning a range of years is a tricky computation that can lead to creative disagreements about how and even whether the system is working. NCBG believes they're over-used and out of control.
TIGER files are available for every county in the United States and for the millions of census blocks in urban areas. (In Louisiana, counties are called parishes.)
This is a good place to mention that the Spanish g and b sounds are similar. The b is a soft bilabial represented by a beta in the IPA, and the g is a soft glottal represented by a gamma in the IPA. A similar pair of sounds were represented by w and g in northern Europe a millenium ago, and gave rise to pairs of words entering English separately from Norman and non-Norman French (guarantee and warranty, guard and ward, etc.). Typically, these words had Germanic roots, part of the Frankish heritage of Vulgar Latin and its descendants. For example, the words war and guerrilla, with etymons that entered English via Norman French and from Spanish, are ultimately related to the same Germanic root that gives us the word worse -- part of the English language in some form since Old English was spoken.
[As you realize, the w never caught on in Romance orthography, and g ruled. Hence the Germanic name William is rendered Guillermo in Spanish, Guillem in Catalan, Guilherme in Portuguese, and Guillaume in French. All have something of the palatalization of the lli in English William.]
The g was presumably used in the Spanish cognates because most of the Germanic words entered via French. I'm not sure if Spanish b had its current soft sound in those days (I know there's scholarly work on the question; I just haven't checked it yet). In any case, some words evolved in a direction that indicate a softening of b. In particular, if you read Cervantes in the original spelling you'll notice that grandmother is aguela -- now it's abuela. The reason I'm boring you silly with all this amateur linguist stuff is that as I was growing up, hearing and speaking Spanish but not reading it much, I thought that the word for shark was tigurón, a sort of augmentative form of tigre (`tiger'). But it turns out that the word is tiburón, with no known relation to tigers.
There were sharks in the waters off Spain long before the tiburón entered the language. In fact, in one of the earliest attestations, Fz. de Oviedo in 1535 commented that they were more common in the Caribbean than around Spain. Since the word appeared in Spanish only shortly after the discovery of America, and the cognates in Portuguese (tubarão) and Catalan (tauró) are not clearly much earlier, an American origin seems likely. One hypothesis is that it comes via Portuguese from the Tupí word uperú (or iperú), with a t- that functions as an article in the Tupí language. (At the time of the Portuguese took possession of Brazil, Tupí tribes occupied most of the coastal territory from the Rio de la Plata to Amazon. The two main tribes were the Tupí properly speaking, who lived at the mouth of the Amazon, and the Guaraní, who lived in the eastern part of present-day Paraguay, between the Paraguay and Paraná rivers. The Guaraní language has something of a semi-official status in Paraguay. Although most of my South American family lives in Chile, everyone who lives for very long in Paraguay learns Guaraní.) Well, okay, enough about tigon and all.
The IRS did not always require a TIN for dependents (mostly children). The requirement was instituted in 1987 (for tax-return filings on FY 1986 income). Tax forms that year showed seven million fewer dependents than the previous year.
TiN is an excellent barrier to diffusion, widely used in microelectronic device fabrication. Sputter-deposited material has very variable properties; resistivities in the range 20 to 2000 microohm cm, densities 3.2 to 5.0 g/cc. For more, see references cited in Ki-Chul Park and Ki-Bum Kim: ``The effect of density and microstructure on the performance of TiN barrier films in Cu metallization,'' Journal of Applied Physics, vol 80, #10, pp. 5674-5681 (15 Nov. 1996).
More and less dense TiN has different appearance: gold (G-TiN) and brown (B-TiN).
I should stress that the negative associations are conventional connotation, not my own prejudice.
Tin is not very shiny. The Modern English word tinsel < Middle English tineseile < Old French estincelle, `spangle, spark.' It's cognate with the word stencil.
Clive James has written (in one of the essays in As of This Writing)
Flaubert liked tinsel better than silver because tinsel possessed all silver's attributes plus one in addition -- pathos. For whatever reason, [Raymond] Chandler was fascinated by the cheapness of L.A. When he said that it had as much personality as a paper cup, he was saying what he liked about it. When he said that he could leave it without a pang, he was saying why he felt at home there.
Anyway, Tiny Tim used other stage names (among them Larry Love and Darry Dover) and gave variable answers for his year of birth (usually between 1922 and 1933). At least his first and last names are reasonably certain. At some point he gave himself the middle name Buckingham for the royal associations. His Lebanese father was named Butros Khaury. The son's full name is given on a number of webpages as Herbert Butros Khaury, and for all I know that might be accurate.
On a scale of one to ten, with one being not at all and ten being completely, how confused were you by the use of the archaic form ``enow'' of enough?
Really?
One the same scale, how confused were you by the phrase ``one to ten,'' which might have been 9:59? How about the sparse punctuation, was that a problem? We really want to know, but we can't be bothered to write the cgi polling interface. You know, TechnoMetrica -- or TechnoMetrica Market Intelligence, Inc., as it is also known -- has an internet polling arm called Netpollster. But HotOrNot gathers more important information.
Recent studies (``recent'' in March 2002) indicate that TIPP is teaming with IBD.
Humping.
Sex.
The nasty.
French postcards.
Knowing in the Biblical sense.
Please excuse the outburst. This was purely for the benefit of the Yahoo and Lycos search engines. I just felt like making this my most-visited file next month. [It didn't work. Others had similar ideas.]
Back on-topic. Here is a typical exchange with the TIPS ``Ask the Sexpert'' (by T. E. Whalen, Ph.D., ©1994, Gov't of Canada), which won the 1994 Loebner Prize for ``the most human-like natural language program.'' [In the following, prompts and output printed by the program are in italics; typical human reponses and commentary are not italicized, or at least within square brackets.]
%cat political.correctness >/dev/null
In fact, you can violate Snell's Law, and transmit under conditions that nominally correspond to total internal reflection, by having the light transmitted into the low-refractive-index medium immediately (a few wavelengths distant at most) reenter a higher-index medium. This is the classical analogue of quantum tunneling, and can be easily understood: whereas in ray optics, the reflected beam does not penetrate the low-index medium, in a wave theory one finds a spatially evanescent wave (a wave with imaginary wave vector in the direction normal to the interface), magnitude decreasing exponentially into the `forbidden' medium. Placing a high-index material nearby changes the electromagnetic wave problem in a way similar to that of transforming a semi-infinite quantum barrier into a finite one.
The spelling has evidently been influenced by mouse, and the plural in Modern English is titmice. Time to renew efforts to make mongeese the official plural of mongoose. After that, meese as plural of moose will be as easy as tipping a cow.
Just for the record, titmice (love to write that) are passerine birds of the family Paridae, especially species of the genus Parus, such as the chickadee. Titmice (yeah!) are found in woodland areas around the world.
Okay, okay -- it's possible the first syllable meant `small.' That would imply that titmouse means small titmouse. ``Small'' compared to what -- a titmouse? If we apply this recursively, pretty soon the insects are going to be eating the titmice.
It happens that Kum is part of the transliteration of some East Asian names. ``Kum & Go'' is a chain of (about 300) convenience stores. There's one in Alliance NE. There's a Teekay Shipping Corp. headquartered in Nassau (in the Bahamas) that provides international crude oil and petroleum product transportation services through a fleet of medium-sized oil tankers. There's an alleged artist who calls himself or herself TK TK TK and who has exhibited a work entitled ``TK TK TK.'' You can't win.
In the October 6, 2000, New York Times (Friday, late Edition), in Section E (Movies, Performing Arts/Weekend Desk), pg. 24, the movie guide states ``[a]n index of reviews of films opening today appears on Page TK.'' I think that's an error.
The previous September 10, in Section 3 (Money and Business/Financial Desk), pg. 8, the Times reported that ``In a sharp reversal, the Standard & Poor's 500 communications services index, which rose 18.2 percent last year, has dropped 26 percent from a mid-December high, to TKK.TK.'' At the time, apparently, SBC was trading at ``$ TK.TK, 23 percent off its 52-week high of $55.50'' and Verizon, ``which traded at $66 in April, [was by then] at $ TK.TK.'' 2000 was a bad year for tech stocks. It looks like a space or period may immediately precede this kind of TK, but not a dollar sign. ``WorldCom hit a 52-week low of $32.56 in August'' but was then trading ``at $ TK.TK,''
In the July 9, 2000, Los Angeles Times, the page-one book review (they read books there?) was of The Boomer, a novel by Marty Asher; ``Alfred A. Knopf: TK pp., $15.'' [In April 2010 a book fair in LA boasted that it was the world's largest. Some news reports mentioned that something like ``they read books there?'' was a common reaction.]
TK Theaters and theater tk is a common venue for reviewed movies. Somebody should start a chain.
I can only enter a few of these medical abbreviations at a time, or I get nightmares.
Here's some actual, factful informational data [from the July/August 1996 Lingua Franca, reported by R. J. Lambrose on p. 9]: William Shatner attended McGill University in Montreal, graduating in 1952 with a degree in Commerce. He was third-string quarterback. [If he'd been a real football player, he would have majored in Sociology.] The building at 3840 McTavish Street, on the Montreal campus, has been unofficially named the ``William Shatner University Centre.'' (Canadians have to use British spelling to prove that they're not yahoos like us southerners.) A sign out front proves this, but the university doesn't recognize this as official until Shatner satisfies one of two requirements:
McGill should be careful, considering the fiasco at Stevens.
You can visit the First Church of Shatnerology (FCOS) to learn nothing else useful, but have a good laugh. For a while (around 2004) there was a Second National Church of Shatnerology. They communed at a geocities site, but it seems now that group has dissolved. Perhaps they were absorbed by Priceline.
Interestingly, Shatner played the title role in an 80's cop show called ``T.J. Hooker.'' Unfortunately, the tee stood not for Tiberius but Thomas. I don't know what the jay stood for. The show also featured Heather Locklear. I guess she was always set to ``stun.''
An instance of TKO is described at the ion entry.
Learn more at its entry in WebElements and its entry at Chemicool.
When the word acronym first appeared in the 1940's, it usually referred to a pronounceable sort of initialism like Nabisco that is ``pronounced as read,'' and unlike NRA in which the word is pronounced as the sequence of names of its letters (here ``en arr ay''). (Granted that in the case of vowels, the distinction not sharp.) Sometimes this condition of pronounceability was noted explicitly, more often implicitly in the choice of examples or by uncertain reference ``pronounced like a normal word.'' It may be objected that English is not very phonetic, so the pronunciation of a new ``normal word'' is not obvious. Even so, English words normally have at least as many vowel letters, counting wye, as syllables, and this is not true of initialisms pronounced as letter-name sequences (if they contain a consonant).
Eventually, the pronunciation stipulation came to define the ``strict sense'' of the word acronym, while the majority of people came to ignore the distinction between acronyms sensu strictu and other initialisms somehow pronounced as words.
TLA in particular, unless you pronounce it something like 't lah, is not, strictly, an acronym. Hence, if you understood TLA to be a three-letter acronym, then TLA was not itself a TLA. That's too bad (zu schade), because much of the appeal of TLA is in the fact that it is supposed to describe itself. Indeed, most three-letter initialisms are not acronyms in the strict sense, making the acronym TLA a not-very-widely applicable term.
This doesn't bother most people, but for those who prefer precision, SBF recommends t.l.a., in which a. obviously stands for abbreviation.
You know, this used to be a more fun entry before we got all precise. Here's what the entry used to look like:
Three-Letter Acronym. Not denotatively equivalent to TEA.
Nowadays art is about nothing but itself, so this acronym must be art.
Yet Another Acronym Server (YAAS), which had the goal of finding a meaning for every possible combination of three letters, has gone to URL heaven. The Great Three-Letter Acronym Hunt is online.
The story is told of President Calvin (``Silent Cal'') Coolidge, that a woman approached the taciturn president at a reception, saying she had made a bet that she could get three words out of him, and he replied ``You lose.''
Cal Coolidge's wife has been quoted as saying that Cal often first learned of his cleverest lines when he read them attributed to him in the morning papers.
TLC formed in 1991. The group was developed and first managed by Perri ``Pebbles'' Reid, an R&B star (known for her hits ``Girlfriend'' and ``Mercedes Boy'') then married to L.A. Reid. Lisa ``Left Eye'' Lopes was the group's rapper; Tionne ``T-Boz'' Watkin and Rozonda ``Chilli'' Thomas handled the vocals. So I'm told.
TLC's name was possibly the only word associating them with tenderness.
The ``Left Eye'' nickname referred to Lopes's trademark glasses, featuring a condom in the left-eye lens (but publicity photographs didn't often show them, you know?). You can see the condom in the video for ``Ain't 2 Proud 2 Beg,'' mostly in the last half minute or so. The condom is in the standard square packet, propped in place.
On April 25, 2002, shortly before 6 pm, Left-Eye died after a roll-over accident -- she drove her SUV off the edge of a two-lane country road outside La Ceiba, a town on the Atlantic coast of Honduras. None of her many passengers was killed. (First reports described the accident as a head-on collision; possibly it was -- head on into a tree.)
It's amusing to (me to) note that nafta, in Argentina, Paraguay, and Uruguay, means `gasoline.' (In Chile it's bencina, and from Bolivia northward, it seems all other Spanish-speaking countries use gasolina. Of course, neighbors tend to understand each other, even if they prefer different words.)
TLCAN es un convenio [`agreement'] entre Méjico, Canadá, y los EEUU. (You don't need me to translate all of that.)
Since everyone can read French -- even people like me who don't actually know the language -- the TLF is a very useful reference work. The 1992 edition is copyrighted by the C.N.R.S. (published by Gallimard). It troubles me that they keep the subtitle Dictionnaire de la langue du XIXe et du XXe siècle (1789-1960), but usage examples and citations date to at least as late as 1989. I relied on this 16-volume paper version until June 14, 2007, when I realized that I could access the electronic edition (TLFi) through my university connection. From now on I'll do my weight-lifting at the gym. (After just one more year, I also realized that the TLFi was available free to everyone, and not just through my university connection.)
See, for example, K. R. Farmer and R. A. Buhrman, ``Defect dynamics and wear-out in thin silicon oxides,'' Semiconductor Science and Technology, 4, #12, pp. 1084-1105 (December 1989).
Note before you click on the Entrez button, that it is optimized for a slow connection by default; if you don't select the fast-connection radio button, you will see only short versions of some of the longer entries.
The TLG's CD-ROM #D (ancient Greek texts) contains 838 authors and collections from the 8th century BC to the 6th century AD.
I didn't just not make up the lyric. I also didn't make up the abbreviation. A shorter one, though with a different inflection, would be US. That might explain the rarity of this one.
Learn more at its entry in WebElements and its entry at Chemicool.
A trademark identifies a good or service. Intellectual property people always distinguish this from a trade name (or business name), which identifies a particular company or corporation. A trade name may or may not be trademarked. The latter is the case if all you do is register the trade name with the state's registration office for corporate names or fictitious business names. You can't always do this at your local county courthouse. At least, I think that in most states you can register an individual enterprise ``doing business as'' (DBA) with the county, but once we had to trek through Amish country clear to Harrisburg just to register a corporation in Pennsylvania. As long as we were there, we visited Gettysburg. What the hell.
A lot of big corporations are registered in Delaware, because they like the laws there. Sort of like ships flagged by Liberia.
The US Patent and Trademark Office (PTO) offers a Trademarks FAQ.
There's an online Trademark Directory, but during the preview period the database is about empty. On the other hand ``No charges will be made during this preview period.'' Also, it looks like they've been in the preview stage for over two years. Oh boy! It pretty much takes the laurel for well-designed useless site.
If you want something considerably more useful, visit the Trademark Database of the US PTO.
Onset is rapid (hours to weeks), with about half of all patients suffering the worst severity of symptoms within the first day. Most begin to recover within one to three months, but those who don't have a poor prognosis for recovery. As of 2004, there are treatments that benefit some TM patients, but no cures. Suffice it to say that new experimental treatments are being pursued. The incidence of TM is estimated to be roughly a few cases per year per million of population.
If the Department of Commerce (DOC) had its own law officers, would they be ``C-men.'' Would that bother the Navy? Anyone else?
Singular form is T-man.
Nosy minds want to know.
I should probably let you in on a little secret about chat rooms, which may help you understand better the context of ``TMI.'' To be blunt, chat rooms are not seminar rooms. They're more like bathrooms, or the walls of toilet stalls. ``TMI' does not just encapsulate three little words. It doesn't even encapsulate two little words and one long word. It encapsulates an entire philosophy. How's that for compression? The philosophy is sometimes expressed ``how bout a topic we cn ALL talk about?''
Okay, I just saw ``TMI'' used as the name of a TV feature. Of course, Newton Minow was right when he said that it is a vast wasteland, but he had the consolation of believing that this was the fault of TV executives, rather than a reflection of what people would watch when given a choice.
Cf. DBS.
Pennsylvania and Massachusetts both have many towns named for places in the Jewish and Christian holy land. Tennessee has Memphis, a religious center of Pharaonic and Ptolemaic Egypt, and Nashville is known as the country music Mecca.
The Villanova Center for Information Law and Policy serves a page of Tennessee state government links. TNNet has a Tennessee links page. USACityLink.com has a page with some city and town links for the state.
Back in the 1980's, a graduate school friend of mine wanted to do research in North African communities. She would have gone to Libya, but she couldn't travel there alone -- she'd have had to have been chaperoned by a near male relative. So she ended up doing her research in Tunisia. Of course, first she had to have a new passport issued her; the stamps from Israeli customs would have disqualified her from entry into either country.
One inch long, 0.571 inches at the mouth. Crimps 1/8 inch cable at the neck (50 ohm cable; 75 ohm cable is 0.15 inches in diameter).
Content-Type: application/ms-tnef
It's a characteristic bit of Microsoft arrogance. It contains font style and size, color and other format information (some version of RTF, Rich Text Format) processed by MS Exchange and MS Mail, and it was already present in Windows 95. If you send it to an email list, or send mail to yourself (in Cc: or Bc: -- ``Carbon copy'' or ``Blind copy'') it, you don't notice anything amiss when you read your own mail because you're reading through your own mail user agent (MUA), which is TNEF-savvy. Evidently it's supposed to, or used to, create a file called WINMAIL.DAT. An old file at URL http://www.annoyances.org/win95/win95ann5.html#13 explains how to fix it (if the ``#13'' isn't heeded, scroll down or search for WINMAIL.DAT; they don't mention ``TNEF''). I think that addresses the problem.
If the online Win95 annoyances guide doesn't enable you to fix the problem, you can buy the O'Reilly & Assoc. Office97 Annoyances_ book (seems to have some kind of turkey or dodo on the cover). According to Annoyances.org, the corresponding web version isn't up yet -- hey, they're not a charity. Alternatively, switch to Eudora Pro or Eudora Lite or something else. I know switching software is a big pain, and it really shouldn't be necessary if you can find a Win95 guru around. My experience with Eudora on Mac and Windows95 is pretty good, although it's too easy to send mail that's too wide. Using Netscape as a mailreader has problems similar to those with MS products: arrogant proprietary choices. In particular, it tends to attach an html version of your message, and angle-bracketed text like ``<grin>'' can disappear.
TNN was purchased in 1999 by Viacom, which has scrambled to get it away from its unprofitable roots in Country. A Canadian informant reports that by autumn 2001 the station was expanding TNN as ``The National Network.'' At least they preserved the stressed ``nash'' phonemes. And national has a nice international ambiguity. Come to think of it, if they ever want to come home, they can claim that National actually meant Country. (It appears that, for a little while at least, they avoided expanding TNN altogether, possibly in hopes that people might forget the original expansion and hence not be jarred by the new one.)
Okay, now it's Summer 2003, Viacom is a division of MTV, and ``The New TNN'' bills itself as ``the first network for men.'' They've apparently either given up trying to come up with an appropriate expansion for the T - N - N , or -- I see: it's in the fine print (see this page). Still ``National.'' They need a new expansion; the tee should stand for Trashy.
Specifically what happened is that they wanted to leave the TNN expansions behind and call it ``Spike TV,'' but that was spiked at the last minute. On the last day before the launch of the new programming, they had to change all the logos because Spike Lee sued over the name. They settled out of court in July 2003, and since August 11 of that year TNN has been called ``Spike TV.''
Spike was already a common nickname when Shelton J. Lee's mother gave it to him, and like Biff or Candy it carries certain connotations owing little to anyone currently bearing the name. This is so obvious as to invite suspicion of cynical opportunism in Mr. Lee's pretense that an entertainment product with the name Spike infringes his own rights. But it's perfectly possible to believe that he is genuinely convinced of his own talent, importance, and general entitlement. What's his is his and what's yours is his too. This gives him an authentic empathy with the solipsism and possessiveness of a child, so it's very appropriate that he's done a children's book.
The TNN flap wasn't the first instance of Spike Lee's entertainment-product avariciousness. In 1989, it became known that Norman Jewison, who had directed a number of films that dealt with racism in America, was planning to do a film biography of Malcolm X. Lee protested that the biography of such an important figure in American history should not be done by a Canadian like Jewison. Wait-- I think I got that wrong. It had to do with the color of his skin. Jewison worked a year on the project and had hired Denzel Washington to play the lead, but he was eventually forced out (the film rights to ''The Autobiography of Malcolm X'' were owned by producer Marvin Worth). When he bowed out at the end of January 1991, Jewison denied he was stepping down because of pressure to have a black director handle the picture. (His autobiography, This Terrible Business Has Been Good To Me, published late in 2004, does not maintain this fiction.) At the time he also said that he didn't know how to make the movie (it would have been his 27th directorial project). Spike Lee, who was eight when Malcolm X was murdered, ``inherited'' the project; he made the movie with Denzel Washington, and he shared screenwriting credit with Arnold Perl, who had made a Malcolm X documentary that was released in 1972. Now mind: I'm not arguing whether Jewison would have made a better or worse film than Lee, I'm only observing that Lee's general objections to a white director had as a specific beneficiary himself.
It's also worth noting, quite apart from its politics, that this rag has been for a number of years an illiterate assault on the English language. For example, in a January 16, 2006, back page article, a threnody for the late Senator Eugene McCarthy, Editor-in-Chief Martin Peretz wrote this: ``We knew we were working with folk whom you knew might defect the moment the assassinated president's brother decided that his time had come.'' Never mind whether ``his time had come'' is not unfortunate wording; most people are either smart enough to know how to use ``whom'' or smart enough not to use it. TNR is stupid enough to not know and use it, as here, rather consistently incorrectly. Some of the less trite errors are more amusing. For example, elsewhere in the issue Alan Wolfe writes ``As benefits a work of apologetics....'')
Here's the beginning of an article that appeared in June 1917 in the short-lived publication The Seven Arts (pp. 133-146). Entitled ``The War and the Intellectuals,'' it was contributed by Randolph S. Bourne:
To those of us who still retain an irreconcilable animus against war, it has been a bitter experience to see the unanimity with which the American intellectuals have thrown their support to the use of war-technique in the crisis in which America found herself. Socialists, college professors, publicists, new-republicans, practitioners of literature, have vied with each other in confirming with their intellectual faith the collapse of neutrality and the riveting of the war-mind on a hundred million more of the world's people. ...
I'm pretty sure ``new-republicans'' refers to those associated with TNR. Bourne was a regular contributor to TNR on a variety of subjects, though particularly on education; he was a popular advocate of John Dewey's educational theories. (John Dewey, incidentally, supported US entry into the war.) If you haven't heard of Randolph Bourne, one reason may be that he died at age 32, during the flu pandemic of 1918. Regarding Bourne's ``publicists'' and ``practitioners of literature,'' don't fret it much: Bourne was usually vague on what he meant by ``intellectual.'' For that matter, even in his own day few college professors could burnish the matte luster of that word.
There's a monthly that was launched around 1960 and published by the American Jewish Committee (AJC) called Commentary. (More at the link; it's now independent of the AJC.) Commentary also drifted (but much further) to the right. (I mean, every few years they publish an article arguing against evolution!) Frank Manciewicz is usually credited with the observation that The New Republic is like a Jewish Commentary. (The point presumably being that the subject matter and authors of Commentary are not particularly Jewish, and that the politics of TNR is much closer to that of American Jews. I think what this must all mean is that Commentary is the Canadian TNR.) Somewhere to the right of Commentary, politically, is JWR.
Frankly, the TNR-Commentary comparison has aged poorly, especially since TNR seems to have dispensed with copy-editors. A better comparison is provided by newish (since 1992?) First Things and Commonweal, each of which is something like a Catholic Commentary. There doesn't seem to be a Protestant version yet, or I'm not aware of it. There are, of course, generally Protestant journals that are more focused on religion. Approximations of FT/Commentary/Commonweal: Christianity Today (a monthly of Protestant evangelicals, founded in 1955) and the Christian Century (not very denominational, as the name implies; so leftist it holds out hope of salvation for Democrats).
I think that 2002 was the big shake-out year for journals, though many of the survivors have been shaky. TNR's circulation shrank from about 101,000 in 2000 to about 60,000 at the beginning of 2007. TNR's specific problem, however, may be political polarization. Between 2004 and 2007, the circulations of such liberal magazines as The Nation and The Progressive have increased. I think the conservative journals have just held their own -- Commentary, at least, has held steady at about 25 thousand. More centrist TNR has lost readership, consistent with the political-polarization storyline. In late February 2007, TNR announced a major overhaul, selling controlling interest to CanWest Global Communications and switching to fortnightly publication. (There, see? TNR is the Canadian TNR!)
My grandfather resided in the US for a while in the days after Prohibition was lifted. At the time, local jurisdictions had more stringent laws restricting the sale of alcohol. One such law in New York City allowed on-site consumption of alcohol only to accompany food. One way around this was simply to offer a ``free lunch'' to anyone buying a drink. My father says that this is the origin of the phrase -- lunch wasn't really free, you had to pay for the drink.
Still, market mechanisms intrude. My grandfather wasn't much of a drinker; he would resell his drink to someone who wasn't hungry, so lunch came out pretty cheap.
Hmm. It says here in You Might As Well Live (John Keats's book about Dorothy Parker) that in the gay nineties (that's the 1890's, son), a man could have a free lunch with a five-cent beer. Page 16.
H C NO 3 \ / ² \_____/ / ___ \ O N_____/ / \ \ ² \ \___/ / \_____/ \ \ NO ²
Created in 1863 by J. Wilbrand. (At the time, in Germany, the name ended in the now no-longer-standard toluol, q.v.)
The 2,4,6- (for the positions of the nitro groups) is usually implicit, since a straightforward synthesis puts the groups preferentially at para and ortho positions.
In May 1998, Geri Halliwell achieved solo fame by leaving the phenomenally successful Spice Girls in mid-tour. That year, Aaron Spelling was casting for a new Charlie's Angels series and considered her for a part. She was rejected as too chunky, although in July it was reported that actor Randy Spelling, Aaron's son, had pleaded with dad to reconsider. In a few of the many stories about the Spice break, it was even rumored that the possibility of a role in the show contributed to Geri's decision to leave. In any event, an Angels remake didn't materialize that year. A big-screen version was filmed in 1999 (released 2000).
Since 2001, along with the other former Turner properties (TCM, TBS, Cartoon Network, the various CNN's), TNT has organizationally been a part of the WB network, which in turn is part of Time Warner.
There's a help page for the search engine on the Canadian Parliament website. One of the searching hints (``Be Accurate'') explains:
For example, if you wanted to look for information about Toronto, you would type Toronto, not the common abbreviation T.O. The Search Engine does not know that T.O [sic, I think it was] means Toronto and it will be unable to provide you with any results even though there are several documents that contain the word Toronto.
It may seem superfluous to point out that one should search on actual placenames rather than their abbreviations, but Torontonians use TO frequently without a second thought, about as New Yorkers use NYC. I seem to recall more than once being in a chatroom with mostly American chatters, where people from Toronto or thereabouts used TO in the apparent expection that it would be generally understood.
FWIW, a search on T.O. at the Canadian Parliament website (May 2004) did turn up five documents (in addition to the search help page itself): lists of members for eighth through twelfth parliaments (June 23, 1896 to October 6, 1917), when T.O. Davis served as a member of the House of Commons (8th and 9th; the 9th was dissolved Sept. 29, 1904) and then as a senator (10th-12th). Wilfred Laurier was prime minister during the 8th to the 11th parliaments. He's mentioned at the WLU entry. T.O. Davis is not.
As of 2009, all those interesting search tips are gone, and you only learn that the search is case- and accent-insensitive and similar boring stuff. It reminds me of a Dave Barry column (``Sweating Out Taxes'') that included this: ``The IRS spends God knows how much of your tax money on these toll-free information hot lines staffed by IRS employees, whose idea of a dynamite tax tip is that you should print neatly. If you ask them a real tax question, such as how you can cheat, they're useless.''
The comments about T.O. above occurred in the English help page, and the dead link above is to that. The corresponding French page with search help (dead link here) used the example of Mtl. in place of T.O. (Le moteur de recherche ne sait pas, lui, que Mtl désigne Montréal....) Searching on MTL yields three pages that mention Radio-Canada MTL.
La-da da-da dee, la-da da-da dah.
Cf. TOCS-IN.
It was the Summer of my contents. Garage-sale time.
There's a European mirror for TOCS-IN in Louvain.
When it was begun, the journals to be covered were divided into 16 files: 6 files of general classics journals (CLA), 5 of archaeology (ARCH), 3 for religion and Near Eastern studies (RLNE), and 2 for miscellaneous journals of interest (MISC).
A tod is really just a wool-specific alternate name for a quatern -- one quarter of a hundredweight (long). To be precise about ``approximately'': I mean that a tod was precisely 28 pounds, but the term was also used loosely, and in a weak market for wool, buyers might demand a half pound over. Sounds like price controls.
Overall score, originally in the range 200 to 677, was 10 × average of three section scores (20 to 68). They couldn't pick a system that didn't require roundoffs? No, they had to make it complicated. 660 is at the top percentile, top quartile is about 570, median is about 520. The graduate admissions office at Notre Dame interprets the range 535-600 as ``questionable ability.''
But wait! It gets worse. A computer-based test was introduced, with scores in the range 0 to 300. (Lowest score zero: what a clever innovation!) In order ``to avoid confusion'' (no thanks, really -- you've done enough), the scores on the paper-based test have been adjusted: scores between 200 and 310 on the old scale have been collaped up to 310 (fewer fine gradations between horrible and terrible). Since scores above 310 are not scaled, those higher scales still represent the same level of English incompetence they represented previously.
Some conversions:
Paper-based score Computer-based score 677 300 650 280 600 250 550 213 533 200 500 173
You could get a better idea of a student's English competence in a one-minute conversation, but that wouldn't be standardized. (Then again, see the FMSS entry.)
Y'know, the toeful/toefl thing reminds me: a way to distinguish many Austrian surnames from German ones is that if they end in a consonant followed by el where you would expect a consonant followed by ee followed by el in ordinary German spelling, then it's Austrian (z.B.: Vogl in Österreich; Vogel in Deutschland). This rule is a lot more accurate than the TOEFL's.
ToGA! ToGA! ToGA! ToGA!
You can keep your ``Dale Crest'' and ``Republic Manor.'' ``Toll View'' suggests the idea that there's a price to be paid for everything -- even a mere view. Here's a thought. According to Peter De Vries, suburbs are named after what the developers destroyed to build them -- Rolling Acres, Forest Glen, and so forth.
I'd like to point out that ``Dale Crest'' was just an off-hand invention to suggest the oxymorons that result from the use of obscure (to the name coiners) words to make place names that sound antique, and hence established or upscale. (For a related phenomenon, see Mission Viejo entry.) It turns out that there's a Dale Crest in Texas, and many a Dalecrest elsewhere. I suppose some crest may be associated with a dale, or vice versa, but I'm inclined to doubt that the coinage is usually meant literally. ``Republic Manor'' occurs as an accidental collocation, but the name as such has apparently not been inflicted, yet, into the annals of um, um, Atlastry, or whatever the word is that I'm trying to recall. Gazetteer! The annals of gazetteering, or gazetteers, for short.
I should also note that I only have the De Vries quotation at second hand -- from a review by George Will of a book not by De Vries. De Vries was a novelist of the mid-twentieth century; it may be a while before I can track down the precise quotation.]
Oh, alright, let's get serious. Tolstoy, also transliterated Tolstoi, is the name of a noble Russian family. In addition to Count Leo Nikolayevich Tolstoy (1828-1910), the other famous ones were named Aleksey. Count Aleksey Nikolayevich (1882-1945, some novels) and Count Aleksey Konstantinovich (1817-1875, light and heavy verse). On the evidence of the patronymics, there must have been an awful lot of Nicholases in the family (sure, I could find out, but I'm busy now, working on the glossary). It might go back to Count Peter Alexandrovich (1761-1844), who headed a government department under Czar Nicholas I. In addition to the fathers of Leo and one of the Alekseys, there was Leo's older brother Nicholay (when people aren't famous, they don't get domesticated names like Nicholas). Leo was a college drop-out living on family money, and his life was going nowhere. In 1851 he accompanied Nikolay (transliterated spellings are a lot like Middle English spellings -- whatever works, and even what doesn't) to the Caucasus, where he joined an artillery regiment and began writing. I should probably have made one of those Alekseys an Alexei or Alexey or Alexay. Variety is the spice of life.
Under the IUPAC rationalization of chemical nomenclature, use of the -ol ending (q.v.) was restricted to phenols and alcohols, and simple aromatic compounds got names ending in -ene. Since academic chemists adopted the new nomenclature with alacrity, while manufacturers and others not engaged primarily in chemical research were laggard or reluctant to switch names, there is a natural tendency for toluol (in current continued use) to refer to commercial-grade (i.e., not very high grade) purity of toluene.
Years ago there was a soap opera that was a spoof of soap operas, called ``Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman.'' Mary's mate, never seen without the baseball cap that symbolized his arrested emotional development, was called Tom.
The guy who played Tom was at ASU filming with Disney.
In F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby, Tom Buchanan is defined by what he did in college years before (play football).
Although there is essentially one ideographic character system in use throughout China, different regions use local languages or dialects so different as to make communication difficult. Some of the difference is in the use of different words indicated by different characters, but most of the difference amounts to a different pronunciation of the same characters. Part of the difference in pronunciation arises from the use of different tones, so to discuss particular tones one must specify which ``Chinese'' one means. The ``official'' Chinese, what one is assumed to mean when one uses the word in another language, is Mandarin. In Mandarin there are four tones:
| | | | |__ | / | / |\ | |/ |\/ | \ | | | | 1 2 3 4There is also a little-used fifth tone, which is no tone at all. This is not equivalent to a flat tone (tone 1), though God knows I can't hear much difference. (Now you know too. You and God have something in common. Isn't that awesome?) Anyway, if you want to be careful, you can write ``0'' for this tone. Not so many words use tone 0, but one that does is very common: the ma placed at the end of a sentence to indicate that it's a question (see SVO).
This is about normal for Chinese languages: four tones or so. An outlier among Chinese languages is Cantonese, the language of a large southern province (traditionally called Canton in English, or Guangdong [approx. recollection] in one or another Romanization) around Hong Kong. To speakers of other Chinese languages, Cantonese-speakers often seem to be arguing, because of the large number of different tones they use. The precise number of tones used is a matter of some dispute. This is not so surprising: though most Anglophones know that the English alphabet has 26 distinct letters (a full deck, counting upper and lower cases separately), few know the number of different sounds distinguished in their pronunciation (for most dialects, it is over forty). Part of the confusion also is due to the fact that different sounds may or may not be considered equivalent. (This also has an analogue in English, in the situation of vowels. For example, the dialects of some English-speaking regions don't distinguish the pronunciation of two or all of ``merry,'' ``marry'' and ``Mary.'' If these all seem clearly different, then next Christmas turn on the TV and listen as Jimmy Stewart, playing George Bailey in `` It's A Wonderful Life'' (IAWL) goes shouting for ``Mary,'' played by Donna Reed. [Links are to the US mirror of The Internet Movie Database.]
Donna Reed was the homemaker icon of the 1950's, based especially on the strength of her performance in The Donna Reed Show from 1958 to 1966. In the eighties, we got Roseanne, Domestic Goddess (tm). In 1991, Amy Tan published The Kitchen God's Wife, and never once in that book does she acknowledge Roseanne.
Anyway...
One point of view is that Cantonese essentially has only one tone additional to those of Mandarin, but that it sounds like more because of the different initial attacks (in the musical sense) that are used. Also, somewhat different, um, versions of the tones are used for shorter than for longer words.
So about ``Tootsie'' (1982): Dustin Hoffman plays an unemployed actor (Michael Dorsey) who poses as a woman (Dorothy Michaels) to get acting work. For those of you unfamiliar with the concept of acting, this is a bit like double-escaping to pull a literal out through two levels of interpretation.
A movie that takes this to the next level was actually released earlier in 1982: in Victor/Victoria, Julie Andrews plays a soprano who finds work posing as a female impersonator. You wonder just how much of a challenge this would be.
Stay with me, now; this paragraph and the last are just as connected as any two consecutive paragraphs typically are, in this glossary. East Germany (when that existed) had a program of giving their competitive female athletes a little competitive edge: male hormones. It was a public relations campaign, you know? They wanted to show the world that even if their subjects couldn't sprint from East Berlin to West Berlin in thirty years, nevertheless the communist country had the best doping program in the world. Except that they were so modest that they denied having any such program. And you know that males and females both have ``male'' and ``female'' hormones -- the difference is quantitative, not qualitative, so it was hard to prove doping (especially with the technology then available). Instead, suspicious people pointed to suspicious signs, like the fact that the female East German swimmers had deep voices. To this, one East German coach gave the memorable answer: ``We came to swim, not to sing!'' (It works about as well in the German -- schwimmen, singen). I'm glad that I forgot to mention that at the 14.25 entry.
That Dustin Hoffman vehicle, BTW, costarred Jessica Lange, and Geena Davis had her first film role in it. It seems they didn't deploy the Doris Day contrast enhancement maneuver (casting an unattractive best friend to make the star look good). You have to figure that looking too good in a female impersonator role could be risky to an actor's career, unless he aspires to a Divine career. Then again, when it's been a couple of years since you co-starred in Kramer vs. Kramer (1979) and you haven't had any movie work, maybe risk is good.
A common clause in book contracts (the contracts between publishers and authors) stipulates that if the house leaves the book out of print (OOP), the author gets the rights back.
IMDB will calmly tell you about Linda Blair.
TOP is also used in football, where it's actually easier to measure accurately.
Along about now, if not earlier, you have probably been wondering at the amazing ability of the Stammtisch to bring you exquisitely recondite information, at the very reasonable price (nothing) that we charge (all major credit cards accepted, and excepted). Even though you have read about our practical yet utopian administrative structure, you yet wonder how we do it. Very well, because you've asked politely, we'll give one small example.
The particular entry you are reading now (TOPS) was developed with information from the ground transportation division of our international directorate for excellence in glossary entries (ISO 9000 mission statement available free on request; include $3000 for freight and handling). I should mention that the ground transportation research staff, as well as the editing staff and the staff of a number of our other divisions, is based in nearby Canada (.ca), because that's where he, er, I mean the volunteer staff, resides. The use of highly skilled and mysteriously motivated volunteer staff is one of the important ways we keep costs down. Another way is, I shell out for the web presence to feed my ego.
Now that you understand the broad outlines of our organizational structure, we can move on to the intelligence operation that retrieved this datum. It all began as the ground transportation research staff was perusing the hearings transcripts of the ongoing inquiry into a Southall crash on September 19, 1997 (seven dead and about 150 injured when a Swansea-to-Paddington passenger train collided with a freight train in west London).
Our alert researcher noticed that the capitalized character string TOPS, tagged in preliminary work as a probable acronym, occurred at least nine times in scattered places in transcripts of the hearings. The first time it came up, one of the line's controllers was being questioned:
| A. ... | We also had what is known as a TOPS computer. I can't tell | you what the T-O-P-S stands for but it's a realtime computer | which logs the departure and arrival of trains at various | locations...
Next, another controller was being questioned:
| Q. You say in your statement that one thing you did do that | morning was to send out a message on the TOPS computer? | Can you help us with what TOPS stands for? | | A. No. | | Q. You are not alone.
A few days later, someone had apparently found out:
| Q. You printed off the TOPS information, that's the Total | Operations Processing System information, to identify the | precise trains? | | A. I did.
So now we, and you, know.
The transcript from which the text above is quoted amounted to well over 2.5 megabytes in plain text form. It was online at this now-dead link for awhile. It doesn't seem to be available online any more, but the final inquiry report, published in 2000, is available online as of early 2009 (312 pdf pages). [This document (full title The Southall Rail Accident Inquiry Report) has a glossary (pdf pp. 10-11) that expands TOPS incorrectly as ``Total Operating Processing System.''] Other rail informatics scholars, building on the foundation of our pioneering research, have raised TOPS research to the next level. Some of that research is summarized at its own Wikipedia page.
In both Biblical and Modern Hebrew, however, the most common use of torah is as a noun. To a speaker of almost any European language other than English, it is natural to use the infinitive as a noun, just as it is in Hebrew. In English, infinitives can function as nouns in sentences, and are sometimes recognized as nouns in isolation, but more usually the present participle (-ing) form is used. For example, in a letter to her niece Anna Austen in September 1814, Jane Austen wrote:
Walter Scott has no business to write novels, especially good ones. It is not fair-- He has fame and Profit enough as a Poet, and should not be taking the bread out of people's mouths-- I do not like him & do not mean to like Waverley if I can help it-- but I fear I must....(As you can see, I've only quoted what is essential for the current discussion. For the rest, see letter 108 in the LeFaye edition of JA's correspondence.)
In this example, ``to write novels'' is a noun phrase in the SAE style, and the infinitive ``to write'' alone can also function as a noun. More common, certainly today, would be the noun phrase ``writing novels,'' using the present participle writing.
(This use of the present participle is an accident of etymology: the present participle, which typically ends in -nd in West Germanic languages, and the nominal form constructed on the verb, which typically ends in -nk or -ng, became conflated in English, so the nominal forms ending in -ing came to be used for the present participle. In Scotland, it took a hundred years after the unification of the Scottish and English crowns for the native -and present participle to disappear.)
Anyway, torah is an infinitive. (Strictly, it's a hifil-form infinitive. Other forms of the verb, with their own infinitives, correspond to related meanings expressed with modal auxiliaries in English. The Hebrew system is actually very similar to Russian verb conjugation.) So in English, this infinitive torah functioning as a noun has the natural translation `teaching.' Latinate nouns constructed on similar verbs include doctrine and instruction. It is in the sense of `teaching' that the word is understood as the name for various Jewish holy books. (In this use, it is capitalized in English; Hebrew has no majuscule-minuscule distinction.)
The word torah is now used in two kinds of conventional ways: as the designation of certain holy books, and for related sets of laws. Let's do the books first.
In the narrowest sense, torah refers to the ``Five Books of Moses'' or, from the Greek, Pentateuch: the first five books of the Jewish Bible or the Christian Old Testament. This meaning already occurs in other books of the Bible (Joshua 1:7, Ezra 3:2, 7:6, 8:1,8; Mal. 3:22), in a phrase translated `the Torah of Moses.' (I capitalize Torah as seems appropriate in English; Hebrew does not have a majuscule-miniscule distinction.)
In rabbinic literature, the word torah refers to successively larger sets of books: the Jewish Bible (``written Torah'') or the Jewish Bible and a certain interpretive literature that was developed on its basis by rabbis of about the 2nd c. BCE to the 6th c. CE. (The latter is called ``oral Torah'' because it was first transmitted orally for a number of years. In fact, the writing down of this oral law was originally forbidden, but after the Romans defeated and destroyed the Jewish state, and much of the Jewish people was dispersed around the Mediterranean, it was judged preferable, and therefore permitted, to write the law than to risk having Jews in the diaspora live in ignorance of it.)
Often the word torah is glossed as `law.' This is considered incorrect as regards the name of the Bible, but there are two ways in which it is correct. First, the word torah occurs well over 150 times in the Pentateuch with the sense of `law' or `regulation,' although it generally occurs as part of a construction referring to a particular law. For example, Lev. 7:1 describes ``the torah on guilt offerings,'' and the Septuagint translates torah there as nómos.
Also, it may be noted that even the parts of the Torah that do not contain explicit laws are relevant to and used for law. (That is, Bible content that is historical, biographical, or obscure -- for the last think Song of Songs, to say nothing of the Book of Daniel.) Various kinds of close textual analysis are traditionally applied by rabbinic scholars to infer answers to questions about Jewish law. You could call it tea-leaf reading, but then what would you say about emanations and penumbras of constitutional law that lead to the conclusion that states can make no law limiting abortion until the third trimester, eh?
Partisans of the teams of the University of Maryland call turtles ``terps,'' which is short for terrapins, the common team name. Must have a lot of resonance for the track team.
And in related news...
In most of the US, the term ladybug is preferred to ladybird
(the prohibitive favorite in all Commonwealth countries). At least bug
is more accurate than bird, but actual ladybugs are of both sexes.
The nursery rhyme is adjusted too.
The list was in a press release issued in December 2008. Reprieve is not a rock group, so it's not a matter of professional rivalry. Reprieve is a ``law group.'' Of course, a reprieve can also be a respite or a release.
You're probably wondering about the glaring omission of ``The Piña Colada Song'' (as it's known, give or take a tilde) of Rupert Holmes from the list above. The reason is simple. The detainees at Guantanamo and elsewhere do not qualify for protection under the terms of the Geneva convention because they are not ``enemy combatants'' in the traditional sense but more like ``terrorists'' or ``suspicious innocent bystanders'' as the case may be. Furthermore, because they are not in US territory they are afforded only limited protection by US law. That's why it's legal to play the songs listed above, so long as royalties are paid. It would also be legal to use the PC song, but interrogators feel that it would violate their personal ethics.
Other bands and artists whose music has been played frequently at U.S. detention sites: Aerosmith, Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, Don McLean (probably for when the interrogators need to take a long bathroom break), Lil' Kim, Limp Bizkit, Meat Loaf, Rage Against the Machine, Red Hot Chili Peppers, and Tupac Shakur. For local flavor, they might consider ``Guantanamera,'' written by José Fernández Díaz, as performed by the Sandpipers.
When the Atari ST was still being developed, the operating system had not been decided yet (CP/M68K was a strong contender). The folks developing the system interface (AES/VDI: Application Environment System/Video Display Interface) that would eventually run a version of Digital Research's GEM (Graphic Environment Manager) were working on MS-DOS machines until the actual hardware was locked down. Since they didn't know specifically what operating system they were coding for, their system diagrams and documentations just referred to it as ``The Operating System'' or ``TOS.'' Once it was decided that Atari would be writing their own OS (a Unix-like interface on an MS-DOS filesystem), it became known officially as TOS.Later, revisionist forces within Atari decreed that TOS actually stood for ``Tramiel Operating System,'' after ``Mad'' Jack Tramiel, founder of Commodore and the guy who brought us the C64.
Jack Tramiel, after being driven out of Commodore by the board of directors, bought Atari from Warner (who couldn't manage a high-tech company to save their lives) and immediately announced his Mac-killer, the ST. The Atari ST became known in the press as the ``Jackintosh.'' The GEM interface was indeed so Mac-like that Apple successfully sued Digital Research on grounds of ``look and feel" and forced DR to modify (read: severely cripple) their DOS version of GEM. Since Atari had bought their version of GEM from DR, they were not affected by Apple's suit, and Apple never considered the Atari market enough of a threat to pursue Atari directly.
The long axis of Notre Dame's football stadium is aligned north-south, and a quarter mile or so directly north of it is the university's main library, Hesburgh Library. That thirteen-story structure has a mosaic covering most of the front wall, which faces south (i.e., in the direction of the stadium), dominated by an icon (in the usual sense) of Jesus. This image has its arms raised to indicate a touchdown, and the icon is informally but universally known as Touchdown Jesus. See the discussion at the entry for The Insider's Guide to the Colleges. See also First-Down Moses.
I don't care if it rains or freezes,
'Long as I got my plastic Jesus
Sittin' on the dashboard of my car.
The countable noun has the widely transferred sense of any object used as a test of quality. Its use in this sense for literary criticism today usually alludes to Matthew Arnold.
In 1880, Arnold wrote a preface to The English Poets, an important selection of verse edited by his niece's husband Thomas Humphry Ward. Arnold had his ``Preface to Ward's Poets'' reprinted as the first item in Essays in Criticism, Second Series (1888) under the title by which it is generally known today -- ``The Study of Poetry.'' In that essay, he proposed that a few short but distinctive passages of great poetry could serve as touchstones. Actually, he meant that they could be used as Munsell color chips, for comparison with some other work to be evaluated, but Munsell color chips hadn't been developed yet, and Arnold had a sure ear for the inappropriate but catchy name. He wrote
There can be no more useful help for discovering what poetry belongs to the class of the truly excellent, and can therefore do us the most good, than to have always in one's mind lines and expressions of the great masters, and to apply them as a touchstone to other poetry. Of course we are not to require this other poetry to resemble them; it may be very dissimilar. But if we have any tact we shall find them, when we have lodged them well in our minds, an infallible touchstone for detecting the presence or absence of high poetic quality, and also the degree of this quality, in all other poetry which we may place beside them.
The particular touchstones he proposed are eleven passages, one to four lines long, selected from Homer, Dante, Shakespeare, and Milton. Some of them are pretty good, though one can find far better than many of them elsewhere in the same authors, and better than most of them in Goethe. The restriction to short passages in principle seems to exclude the majesty of a truly ambitious metrical scheme such as one finds in, say, Pushkin's Eugene Onegin. But these are minor quibbles. There are really only two problems with Arnold's scheme, and they are
It can't work because it ignores the topology of quality. That topology is discrete and multidimensional; greatness in poetry is a matter of individual reception. It is true that mediocre poetry can be improved or worsened, generally speaking. There can often be broad agreement on the relative ranking of two similar ungreat works because compromise is unnecessary: one can substantially improve the poetry along one dimension of merit without substantially degrading it along other dimensions. However, it is a mistake to suppose that this defines a single scale of merit that can be extended out to the vicinity of greatness. When one reaches the realm of very good poetry, there are few choices (discreteness). Considering the few changes that might be deemed improvements, one finds that there are gains and losses. It must be so: if it were always possible to improve in all ways, the writing of great poetry would be as easy as bad poets suppose.
Arnold acknowledges that multidimensionality. (``Of course we are not to require this other poetry to resemble them; it may be very dissimilar.'') But he supposes that one can profitably compare extremely dissimilar beauties. Does keeping a few chords of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony on endless loop in my mind help me to appreciate a glorious sunrise? No. At best, it helps me enjoy the solar beauty by supplementing it with a wholly different one.
Many will find this criticism captious, supposing that there is some truth in Arnold's idea, even if there is some justice in my objection, some imperfection in his formulation. But the fact is that people's minds are clogged almost shut with ideas that might be true, that sound good, and that are so tenuously supported that there is nothing to kick out from under them. Isaiah Berlin's fox-and-hedgehog idea is similar: a baldly false general assertion that it is perfectly possible, by the complete suspension of one's critical faculties, to believe and enjoy.
Now I want to address the second assertion briefly. It may seem mystical to consider whether a method does work after arguing that it cannot, but it is not mystical. It is scientific. The scientific worldview recognizes that deductive proofs are no stronger, and often weaker, than their imprecise and uncertain premises. Hence, one tests the conclusions anyway. Matthew Arnold himself provides an excellent test. We will not dwell on the low opinion he had, say, of Robert Burns. We give a pass also to his conflation of moral and aesthetic qualities (``the truly excellent ... do[es] us the most good''), and his bias for dripping sentiment. Suffice only to say that all the touchstones in the world can never help a blind man tell white from yellow. Arnold had a tin ear, and his own wretched poetry proves it (read the maximum tolerable dose here). Even the inventor of the method couldn't use it to see that it would be aesthetically (and morally) wrong to inflict his scribbles on posterity.
Oh yes, you will encounter Matthew Arnold partisans -- people who do not realize just how awful he was as a poet. A relatively mild example of the hagiographic tendency is The Touchstones of Matthew Arnold, by John Shepard Eells, Jr. (NYC: Bookman Associates, Inc., 1955). On page 14, Eells wrote
One rarely finds a poet who is articulate about the secrets of his craft; and when the poet is a great one, and an eminent critic as well, his utterances dealing with that craft cannot but command the deepest interest and attention. Such an utterance is The Study of Poetry...You might be amazed to discover that in fact, most of the recent literature on Arnold holds him in very high esteem, but you should not be amazed. This is an instance of what is known in statistics as sampling bias. Simply put, those who choose to write about him are the unrepresentative misguided minority. The majority, who can see at a glance that Arnold does not attain even to mediocrity, justly ignore him. For the same reason, most of the literature on bad ideas (the politics you oppose, the other fellow's heretical religion, your kids' music) takes those bad ideas far more seriously than they deserve.
One of the better gags in ``Kentucky Fried Movie'' involved the martial-arts instructor's ``we must have totow concentwayshun'' boilerplate. It worked out better with the dog.
Here are some very old resource links, shamelessly copied from the Crimean Travel Server Homepage, English version:
Paul Fussell edited a collection of travel writing called The Norton Book of Travel (1987). From his introduction to Part IV, ``Touristic Tendencies,'' here is the second paragraph, representative of his attitude regarding a certain distinction:
Tourism simulates travel, sometimes quite closely. You do pack a suitcase or two and proceed abroad with passport and travelers checks. But it is different in crucial ways. It is not self-directed but externally directed. You go not where you want to go but where the industry has decreed you shall go. Tourism soothes you by comfort and familiarity and shields you from the shocks of novelty and oddity. It confirms your prior view of the world instead of shaking it up. Tourism requires that you see conventional things, and that you see them in a conventional way.
Toxo causes a number of neurologically based muscle weakness, incoördination, seizures, transient mental status changes and sustained cognitive impairment.
Gravitational/Zoological: If even one cat has access to TP DtF, then from time to time (about as often as the roll is replaced), the TP will be found lying in a scratched heap on the floor. This has less to do with gravity in general than with the way cats scratch (with a pulling motion), so it really would not be appropriate to call this the Newton's Cat argument. Also, Sir Isaac Newton had a dog. Few English-speaking people kept cats as pets in those days. [Newton's dog was named Diamond. There's a story that once the dog knocked over a lamp (Domestic animals always get blamed -- cf. Mrs. O'Leary, and consider the scape goat), and he (Newton, not the dog) exclaimed: ``O Diamond! Diamond! thou little knowest the mischief done!'' as years of work went up in flames. However, what probably happened was that the fire broke out while Newton was at church. This is interesting, because after his secret conversion, Newton attended the Trinitarian (state-sanctioned) church only the bare minimum number of times per year required by law. (Which was not zero.) Newton was a very deeply religious man compared to, say, William Godwin or Bertrand Russell, but that wasn't unusual in those days and probably still isn't, and maybe the TP entry is not the best place to get into it.] Now there are more cats than dogs in the US, but the dogs are mostly bigger, so there's still more dog than cat in the US.
Aesthetic: DtF tends to display the tear-edge at the end of the roll, hanging down. In DtB configuration, the roll may appear seamless.
Athletic: One-handed operation of a standard-issue TP dispenser requires a rapid jerk on an unrolled portion of the TP, with the opposed force arising inertially from the remaining rolled portion. This maneuver is harder to execute with DtB than with DtF, because DtB requires the roll to be jerked upward or, if jerked downward, starting from a lower position.
Etiquette: Oh, excuse ME! Of course I meant to use the words bathroom tissue. One would not want to be coarse in this department.
Microelectronic: When TP dispensers have embedded microprocessors, this will no longer be a problem. For the next few months, however, people with cats or who for some irrational cause insist on DtB will simply have to install centrifugal governors on their dispensers, like the one on Watt's steam engine.
Then, of course, there's always the Toilet Seat Position Controversy Here's a calculation.
For some serious historical information, try this page. If you have a nonvirtual existence, you might consider visiting Wisconsin's Madison Museum of Bathroom Tissue, which in 1997, after four years of existence, had already collected three thousand rolls, including a roll from Graceland. It's still not listed at <MuseumSpot.com>.
UPDATE: Tragic news -- The Madison Museum of Bathroom Tissue went down the drain. Visit this virtual tribute instead. (Consolation: there's a toilet-seat museum in San Antonio, Texas.)
I knew a woman who spent a year as a student in Leningrad in the seventies. When she visited any neighboring Baltic republic, she would befriend the hotel personnel by badmouthing the Russians, and she would be rewarded with TP. In an emergency, of course, there was always Pravda.
I seem to recall that this glossary set out once to be a scientific resource.
Very well: the 500X magnification picture of (unused, I think) toilet paper
below is an SEM image mirrored from
<http://www.mos.org/sln/sem/tpaper.html>
In her stepfather's tailor shop many years ago, among the seamstresses my mother worked with was an elderly German lady, once wealthy but now in embarrassed circumstances. She had been so genteel that she could not bring herself to be seen buying toilet paper (my mother bought it for her). Lord, the past is a foreign country. Argentina, in this case. (It amuses speakers of other Romance tongues that in Spanish embarazo is `pregnancy.') Then again, perhaps the relevant nationality is German. In that case, it would make sense (trust me on this) to visit the turd de force entry.
Gombrowicz's Ferdydurke is one of the great world novels, according to Milan Kundera. In it, Mrs. Youthful displays as one of the marks of modernity ``her casual way of heading for the toilet, where till then people had gone in secret.''
On your next virtual vacation, you really should visit the Virtual Toilet Paper Museum. After all, when you gotta go, you really gotta go.
This reasoning is rather different from the motivation for the braiding found in Litz wire.
For examples in various bulk compound semiconductors:
TPC-A simulates a lot of users connected to a system all doing the same
job.
TPC-B tries to stimulate one power-mad user. Probably a quantum chemist or a
band theorist.
TPC-C simulates a lot of users connected to a system doing a variety of jobs.
This is pretty stupid, because most users most of the time are running
a browser.
The ``Total'' here refers to the idea that one should optimize globally rather than locally. That is, using performance measurements that focus on individual departments may lead to suboptimization: good local performance at the expense of the overall system. The trouble is, everyone knows that being a team player and trading-off performance for the greater good of the team is just going to land you in trouble.
When I became an assistant professor and attended my first reeducation camp, err, sorry, teaching effectiveness training, I underwent a despicable demonstration of this technique by a biology professor who is a darling of the teaching-effectiveness imbeciles.
A normal solar cell is basically a thin semiconductor diode, and is prevented in principle from making use of the full energy carried by the solar spectrum because of two factors:
One solution to these problems is to stack different photovoltaics. The light is incident on the wide-gap photovoltaic cell, which makes better use of the high-energy photons and lets the lower-energy photons pass through. The narrow-gap PV makes use of the lower-energy photons. In practice, this scheme has not been very popular. In addition to the greater costs and fabrication complexity of stacking different semiconductors, there are also greater losses due to partial reflection of incident light.
Okay, this entry is back under construction.
Denotatively, of course, ``total quality'' and ``new improved'' both mean nothing.
Another aspect of the ``total quality'' slogan that is quite effective is its big-lie magnitude. If one claims to have a single new idea of limited significance, then there is the danger that someone might ask for an explanation of the idea in terms that can be understood and laughed at. More wisely, if one claims to have a brilliant revolutionary idea, like ``Total Quality'' or ol' Kim Il Sung's ``Jutche Idea,'' then the target of propaganda is likelier to be cowed into silence, and the few requests for explanation can be more easily parried with perorations on the multifarious benefits of applying the unexplained brilliant idea. You know, deconstruction is a lot like that.
Catbert offers a Mission Statement Generator. Hey -- leverage the synergy, you never know.
There have been other ideals of leadership.
If you would like to observe the banality of insipidness, one place to start is this.
Okay, okay, here's something more to the point: TQM is a management philosophy (right there you know you're in trouble; each of those words can be pretty bad news alone). It was developed in the 1950's by geniuses like W. Edwards Deming, J. M. Juran, and Phillip B. Crosby. Its basic premise is that improvements in quality automatically lead to improvements in productivity. It's big on incremental quality improvements and teamwork. Japanese industry was an early adopter. Japan has been stagnating economically, nominally in and out of recession, since the real estate bubble burst around 1990, writing as of 2001. LDP remains in power.
The soc.culture.turkish newsgroup has an online FAQ.
In 2004, Turkey finally began accession talks with the EU. The joke goes that ``Turkey is an Occident waiting to happen.''
It was quite unusual for the famous conservationist president to be photographed with wildlife that he had not first killed. For that matter, James J. Audubon, after whom a road near the UB North campus is named, used to shoot his birds first. This made them much easier to study at close hand. Since his time, the gun clubs he began have changed their name to ``The Audubon Society.''
Don't say ``this one's on me'' in Tokyo until you convert the prices. It only looks like everything is priced in Italian lire, but the yen is dearer by an order of magnitude.
The great tragedy of Science -- the slaying of a beautiful hypothesis by an ugly fact.
In act 4 of ``Man and Superman'' (1903), Shaw wrote:
There are two tragedies in life. One is not to get your heart's desire. The other is to get it.
Just that he was a pagan is really a pretty low-down, pettifogging excuse not to make him the patron saint of facial hair.
The Old French verb evolved into the French trancher, which was borrowed by 1513 to produce the English verb tranch (also originally spelled traunche). Tranch had the narrow sense of carve applied to a fish (somehow usually a sturgeon). The word is attested as recently as 1840, but is obsolete today. A noun tranche (same spelling as the French noun) also occurred in the same period and is attested as recently as 1894 in the general sense of slice or cut piece (usually of food, it seems). Then, beginning in 1930, the noun tranche reappears primarily in financial contexts, with senses described in the next entry. My guess is that the word was reborrowed from the French rather than resurrected and repurposed entirely within English, but it's hard to know.
While not every case of tinnitus has an apparent source, there are a variety of causes. Exposure to loud noise, either over an extended period of time or one extreme incident, is probably the most common. Other possible causes of tinnitus include: certain medical conditions; certain medications; allergies.Never discount the possibility of divine retribution.
This ``three-year colloquium'' business is a standard format for the APA. Strictly speaking, however, it runs from 1998 to 2001: APA annual meetings have traditionally been held just before New Year's (since classicists are traditionally such heavy drinkers that if it were held shortly after New Year's, too many talks would have to be canceled due to hang-overs and missed flights). The meeting that would normally year 2000, however, has been shifted to early 2001. This was done to avoid the pedants' version of the Y2K problem: in the year 2000, any classicist who absentmindedly implies that he thinks 2000 was part of the twenty-first century is humiliated. If this happened in public it would be unbearable. In the future, meetings will have to continue at the beginning of the year, since otherwise there'd be a year with two meetings. People would throw out announcements for the second ``APA Annual Meeting 2001,'' thinking they were late-arriving announcements for the previous meeting (that happens too).
Cf. opacity.
trapezoid -
(US) a quadrilateral with exactly one pair of parallel sides;
(UK) a quadrilateral with no parallel sides.
trapezium -
(UK) a quadrilateral with exactly one pair of parallel sides;
(US) a quadrilateral with no parallel sides.
Euclid used _trapezium_ (i.e., trapezion) for both figures, but Proclus's 5th century commentaries on Euclid distinguished them, using the current UK sense. This sense was maintained in various languages until 1795, when Hutton's Mathematical Dictionary was published (in Britain) and stated that the reversed (current US) meanings were ``sometimes'' used.
Hutton's dictionary was so influential that the reversed meanings became prevalent (!), though not universal, for the next 80 years. After that time the old meanings seemed to reassert themselves -- in the UK but not in the US.
At least it's no longer a coyly anonymous feature, as it was until the eighties.
In 1923 the BRT was renamed Brooklyn-Manhattan Transit (BMT) company, q.v.
measuring
).
This trend will continue until, like every trend, it stops.
Well, not quite exactly, I guess, since the vowel sounds are slightly different. But other than that -- oh, yeah, the r sound is very different, but it's still an r sound. Of course, the t in French is articulated a bit more softly than in English, but apart from the fact that French initial t is never aspirated and English initial t always is, pretty much, it's the same sound. And even if it isn't, it doesn't really matter, since the t in ``tr'' represents a ``ch'' sound in English (though not in French).
I should probably mention the rock group here too. T. Rex fossils are mostly found in certain rock strata corresponding to its era, but that's not what I mean.
There were not very many praenomina in use. Given the high rates of infant mortality, if every newborn child had been given a name, many Roman families would quickly have run out of names. For whatever reason, Roman parents named their children on the ninth day after birth.
George Davis Chase, ``The Origin of the Roman Praenomina'' vol. 8 HSCP (1897), pp. 103-184 suggested (p. 135) that the first volume of the CIL (in the edition available to him) might give a fairly correct idea of the frequency of their use. He counted 2489 praenomina. The top ten, and their frequencies of occurrence, can be computed to be Lucius and Gaius (q.v.), each 21%; Marcus, 16%; Quintus, 10%; Publius, 9% (difference from previous not statistically significant); Gnaeus and Aulus, each 4%; Titus, 3%; Sextus, 2%; Manius, Numerius, Decimus, Servius, Tiberius, Spurius (q.v.), each 1%. Spurius means `illegitimate'; its 0.7% frequency of occurrence likely underestimated the actual frequency of bastards in the subject population, however that was defined, if only because two children of one woman would probably not get the same name.
Strictly speaking, gens is the (father's) clan and gentilicium is its name, but you save four syllables by using the first word for both. (Or compromise with the correct equivalent `gentile name.') A handy rule of thumb is that if (the nominative singular form of) a name ends in -ius it is the name of a gens; if it does not, it is not. Obviously this is a terrible rule unless you ignore praenomina, but this is natural since praenomina aren't usually spelled out.
The gentilicium functioned as a sort of surname. Ordinary alphabetization by name, in indices of various kinds, orders by gens first, next by cognomen, and last by praenomen.
The cognomen is best described as any other name tacked on at the end. At the least, a child would be born with one or more cognomina inherited from the father. Any such patrilineal cognomen obviously functioned like a surname, indicating a subdivision of a gens. In later life, a person often picked up an additional or replacement cognomen, which a man would then pass on to his children. The vast majority of cognomina have easily deciphered meanings, and it seems clear that in origin, they were all nicknames. Perhaps a third of the names described physical peculiarities. (E.g., Naso, cognomen of Ovid, implied a large nose; Strabo meant squint-eyed.) Cognomina were a Roman innovation -- other peoples of the Italian peninsula, until well-integrated in the Roman Empire, tended to use just a praenomen and gentilicium.
The Roman senate sometimes passed a decree banning a family from the continued use of a particular element of a name, usually a praenomen. The earliest recorded instances of this date back to the fourth c. BCE, but the practice tailed off in the principate and was apparently completely discontinued afterwards. Considering the small number of popular praenomina available, this might be regarded as a hardship imposed on a family, but it was specifically aimed to punish the bearer of a name by forbidding the continuation of his name, in effect erasing his memory. (Names were also occasionally erased from public documents. That practice has continued.) For details, see History and Silence: Purge and Rehabilitation of Memory in Late Antiquity, by Charles W. Hedrick, Jr. (Austin: Univ. of Texas Pr., 2000), ch. 4.
In 59 BCE, C. Julius Caesar and Marcus Calpurnius Bibulus were elected consuls. Bibulus had sufficient support in the Roman senate to stymie Caesar's first proposal there. Caesar made an end run around the senate by putting his proposal to a vote of a citizen assembly (comitia tributa, literally `assembly of the tribes'). There Caesar's popularity and mob rule won the day. Bibulus attempted what we might call a parliamentary maneuver, a technical move, to block a vote or prevent the vote being valid, but he was assaulted and humiliated. Thereafter he did not feel physically secure in public, and his powers as consul were virtually a dead letter. People joked that the consuls that year were not Bibulus and Caesar but Julius and Caesar.
On one occasion early in 44 BCE, when Caesar was king in all but name, some members of a crowd hailed him as king (rex). This was equivocal praise, since Rome had for centuries taken some pride precisely in the fact that it was a republic and not a kingdom (see the Brute entry). JC deflected the praise with a pun, saying he was Caesar, not Rex. (Both Rex and Caesar are cognomina.) The irony of this, of course, is that at the time he spoke it the phrase expressed humility, but later it would express pride: Caesar came to be the title of Roman emperors (etymon of César, Kaiser and Tsar in Spanish, German, and Russian, resp.).
Amber was the first material discovered to be triboelectric. Thales of Miletus is traditionally regarded as the first to mention amber's ability to attract light dry objects, but the evidence is a bit thin: Diogenes Laertius cites Aristotle and Hippias as reporting that, on the basis of the examples of lodestone and amber, Thales attributed souls to lifeless things. However, in surviving works Aristotle doesn't mention the amber, and Hippias is all lost. It's been suggested that "kai tou hlectrou" at the end of the critical sentence in Diog. Laert. is a late interpolation, but I have no information about the current status of that question. Anyway, Plato in Timaeus 80c claims that amber and lodestone don't really have the power of attraction, it's all done with metaphysical mirrors (I paraphrase), so evidently the phenomenon was well known by that time. Theophrastus mentions the attractive properties of amber and ``lyngourion'' [lynx urine] at 29 and 28 of Peri Lithôn (`On Stone'). The identity of lyngourion is the subject of much dispute, but from the name (and associated stories about the modest or secretive habits of the micturating lynx) its appearance is perhaps more certain than if it had been described by one of those pesky color words, leading at least a large minority to believe it's just a variety of amber. Pliny quotes or misquotes some authors on amber, and awareness of its general properties (again) seems to have been widespread. On the other hand, it seems to have been too dear for many authors, for they display rather second-hand knowledge, often failing to mention the need for rubbing.
Incidentally, the effect is somewhat misnamed. High pressure has the same effect; charging also arises from friction, but only because rubbing also produces close contact between the surfaces. It's the intimate contact that causes charge transfer between the bodies. Humans seem to have an intuitive understanding of this fact. Sammy Hagar's ``Heavy Metal'' is about the phenomenon. It begins ``Head bangers in [the excellent triboelectric material] leather / Sparks flyin' in the dead of the night [best time to observe them]'' and goes on to introduce the topics of lighting, power, and overload -- all standard topics in a sound electrical engineering curriculum. Later: ``Tight [high-pressure] pants [probably leather or plastic; friction may be implied here] and [insulating] lipstick / She's riding on a razor's edge.'' The latter is a reference to the discovery of Benjamin Franklin that charge separation is enhanced by a sharp contact under certain circumstances.'' Hence ``Ohh, can you feel the static / So many contacts being made.'' It's basically a Circuits 101 lab manual set to music.
The old ``trigamy'' defense was always bobbing up in bigamy cases, to wit, that the defendant charged with bigamously marrying some lady (A) in New York County while he had a legal wife (B)) living elsewhere, had in fact no such legal wife (B) as alleged, since there was still another wife (C) whom he had married even earlier, thus rendering the marriage upon which the bigamy was predicated a nullity.
It might seem that this defect could have been overcome by re-indicting the defendant and setting forth as the legal wife the newly discovered C (instead of B), but it sometimes happened that, this having been done and the defendant again brought to trial, he introduced proof of a still more remote marriage to D, invalidating all his subsequent marriages, without the recital of which the indictment continued to be defective. It sounds monstrously absurd, but it is quite true and perhaps goes to show that there is ``safety in numbers.''
Train's prosecutorial experience was mostly in the first decade of the twentieth century, but this book came out in 1939. Bigamy is still prosecuted, but I don't know if the trigamy defense is the prosecutorial stumbling block that it once was.
The new name for triglyceride is ``triacylglycerol.'' No one uses the new term. Possibly no one even knows how to pronounce it.
Look at it this way: every state except Alaska, Hawaii, and Maine has at least one border which meets the border of two other states (and Maine comes within miles of Massachusetts). Maybe Alaska, Hawaii, and Maine should be the tri-state nontri-state area.
The only point where more than three state borders meet in a point is the four-corners area of Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico, and Utah.
For more dyspepsia, visit the locale entry.
Look, i don't give a rat's ass about this stuff, okay? I'm just like you -- it bores me right down to my aching gums. Everybody feels the same way. That's why it's called ``ancient history,'' a term meaning nobody cares any more, get me some Novocaine. The only reason I put this entry in at all was to make a pointless comment about an inconsequential little town. It's ENTERTAINMENT, so I'm sure you can see that it's worth watching... but you probably have a concern -- and it's a reasonable one. You're thinking: ``okay, entertainment is fine, but am I going to be intelligently informed?'' On this I can more than assure you. You have my solemn vow: you will not be improved. Believe me, I know plenty of people who know this Roman history stuff backwards and forwards, and are complete idiots, so don't worry. How could this stuff even be educational? It's about dead people. Very dead people. It happened so long ago that, well -- anyway, even if it happened to be relevant somehow, it could be wrong! Heck, we often put in howling errors, just to keep things lively, and then, uh, forget to correct them for years at a time. There's really no danger, so read on.
Now Caesar and Crassus were tight, but Crassus and Pompey, who had been allies some years before, had grown suspicious of each other. (Proper apportionment of glory for victory over the Spartacus rebellion was one cause of friction.) Also, Caesar and Pompey were both very successful generals in foreign adventures; there was a rivalry there that became more important later (as we don't explain in any very great detail at the TCA entry). To cement the alliance, Caesar married off his daughter Julia to Pompey. You ought to remember this bit. Yeah, it's weird, but in some ways less weird than the Greeks. The triumvirate came to an end because Crassus wanted some foreign-wars glory for himself, but wasn't quite up to the task. He tried to conquer Parthia, but was captured by the Parthian general Surenas, who had Crassus killed in a wonderfully appropriate way: molten gold was poured down his throat. (No eighth amendment yet.) Okay, TMI. Pick up the pace.
Julia died in childbirth, Pompey married the daughter of one of Julius Caesar's bitterest enemies, Caesar crossed the Rubicon, there was a civil war, Pompey was killed, Julius Caesar became emperor in all but name. Julius Caesar was assassinated, and the Senate appointed a second, somewhat less famous triumvirate, an official one with a standard abbreviation: III Vir RPC.
The third famous triumvirate involved Napoleon and two guys I have justly forgotten. Napoleon said something clever about what was required for a triumvirate to function properly, which I'm trying to track down.
A theorem is obvious if it's easy to see, to grasp. A theorem is trivial if the logical relations leading to it are relatively direct. Generally, theorems that are trivial are obvious. If the logical relations leading to it are straight, it's easy to get to. And conversely. Thus the sloppy conflation of terms.
With possible apologies to Goldsmith, the above distinction is true, and obvious, and not to the point. The truth is that the triviality of a proposition is not an absolute statement about its proof, but a subjective statement about how difficult it was for the user of the word to come up with the proof. The judging of theorems as trivial to a greater or lesser degree could, in principle, be used to compare the difficulty of different theorems. In practice, however, it is never used for this comparison. Instead, the declaration that a theorem is trivial is used in the machismo of mathematics, to deride another mathematician for difficulty in coming up with a proof the speaker has already thought of.
Mathematics is viciously competitive. It epitomizes the impossible-to-attribute mot that ``academic battles are so vicious because so little is at stake.''
One way this viciousness comes out is in tricks. To take a trivial example, one might write
a =/= b =/= c =/= a.(Here I have used
=/=
to represent the not-equals sign, often
written != in modern computer languages and not available in ISO Latin-1.)
It is an extremely common careless practice of many mathematicians to write only the first two inequalities --
a =/= b =/= c-- when what they really mean is that the three numbers are all different. The shorter expression leaves open the possibility that a = c, though their common value differs from b. A ``trick'' then would be to write the triple inequality as a trap for the unwary to criticize as superfluous.
In the preceding example, the trick is to write more than is usual, but precisely what is necessary. In the following, one writes less than is usual, but still as much as is necessary.
Consider an operator L acting on some space, x and y any elements of that space. It is a space over some field, and a and b will be elements of that field. To be concrete, L could be a transformation on three-dimensional Euclidean space, x and y vectors in the space, a and b real numbers. (For another example, L could be a differential operator, x and y functions, a and b complex numbers). To indicate that L is a linear operator, it is widespread, though not universal practice, to write
L(ax+by) = aLx + bLy .However, it is trivial to show that
L(ax+y) = aLx + Lyis equivalent. I'm told this is a multiple trap. First, in the right circumstances, it is conceivable that someone might fail to realize that it is a statement of linearity. Second, someone who did recognize it might still incorrectly suppose that it is deficient and criticize it. The way I discovered that this qualifies as a trick was by inadvertently tricking someone, or rather, having him trick himself. The safest thing to do, if you are puzzled, is to make no comment. You won't learn any math that way, but it's probably worth it.
Nowadays, the organic chemicals that remain to be ``new'' mostly have complex structures and correspondingly inconvenient systematic names. Hence, trivial names are assigned for convenience of discussion. (The situation with drug names, however, is more complicated by design.) One modern trivial name that was assigned a name on the old scheme (i.e., based loosely on its plant source) was megaphone, a ketone (hence the -one suffix) isolated from the roots of Aniba megaphylla.
Sometimes on the basis of the quickly-determined structure. We have (or will soon have) three entries for such graphic trivial names. All the chemicals named have four- or eight-membered rings or both, but not all have four-fold symmetry.
Some names are coined to honor a respected mentor. For example, an article in Tetrahedron Letters (vol. 19, #5, pp. 429-432) is entitled ``Louisfieserone, an unusual flavanone derivative from Indigofera suffruticosa, Mill.'' The systematic name of the compound is [2S,4bS,5R,7aR,9S]-5,6,7a,9-tetrahydro-4b-hydroxy-7a,9,10,10-tetramethyl-2-phenyl-5,9-methano-2H-furo[2,3-f][1]benzopyran-4,8(3H)-dione, which you may agree is more likely to trip your tongue than to fall trippingly off of it. The author list for the letter is longer, though less liable to transcription error. Nevertheless, I will just give it as Xorge A. Dominguez, et al., and you will be grateful. The last sentence of the Acknowledgements reads ``[t]he compound was named in honor of Professor Louis Feiser with whom X.A.D. had the [privilege] of working.'' Dominguez continued using this term [Planta Med. vol. 34, p. 172 (1978); Phytochemistry vol. 19, p. 1262 (1980)] along with isolouisfieserone, but the name -- or perhaps the compound -- doesn't seem to have caught on. The better-motivated buckminsterfullerene (with fullerene and fullerenes) has been much more successful.
measuring
).
Troff is a modification of nroff; nroff was a New program that replaced roff. (Just as GNU Nvi replaces vi/vim. Typically the old names are aliased to the new programs, and users may not notice the changes.)
Roff, in turn, had been inspired by the ancestral formatter runoff (one version was DSR). The term runoff reflected the idea that these programs would be used to ``run off'' a good copy of a document (as opposed to running off a sloppy unformatted copy, hmm). Runoff, roff, and nroff all worked with monospaced text (printing ASCII terminals, line printers, etc.); troff used proportional fonts and produced ``typeset'' output, hence the name.
Troff then begat ditroff, which produced ``typeset'' output on any of several devices (hence the DI); ditroff begat a number of competing derivatives. A very good one of these was sqtroff.
Full disclosure: the source for the preceding content of this entry (except for this typist's intrusive emendations) was for several years responsible for maintaining and enhancing sqtroff. As far as pronunciation is concerned, this looks like an Arabic dialect of Polish to me. You're on your own on this one. Oh wait -- this just in: ``In general, when a Unix command is named by prefixing a letter to an existing command, the convention is to pronounce the letter separately.'' FWIW.
Full disclosure of relevant data that readers need to make informed judgments is a wonderful thing. If Geraldo Rivera, or whatever his name is, reported his involvement in coding, say, every time he presented one of his famously and sometimes literally hard-hitting reports on computer software, say -- well, it would be a different world, now wouldn't it?
Interestingly, the English language Wiktionary for some reason has a Trog entry that identifies Trog as a German masculine noun meaning `[feeding] trough,' but there's no mention of the fact that trog is a form of the verb trügen (`to deceive'). (It's the third-person singular preterite form: er trog, `he deceived.') Dutch and Icelandic have parallel nouns spelled trog, but I'm not going to look into the verb situation.
Also called a pony or word-for-word.
In an interview with Chicago Tribune reporter Susan Chandler, TRU president Peter Zollo said that ``The key to marketing to teenagers is understanding that they are not a homogeneous group.'' [Page one of the business section, 1999.08.12.]
What he means, as he makes clear, is that ``teenage society'' (his term) is stratified into three (oh, big number) groups. The first group is the ``edge'' teens:
The second group is the ``influencers'':
The third and largest group consists of the mainstream ``conformers.''
By targeting the influencers, marketers can reach almost 80% of teens with their message. You could say that the influencers are a bellwether of teen trends. A bellwether is a sheep leading sheep.
TRU also does some pro bono work (anti-tobacco, etc.).
Although he doesn't come right out and say it, Zollo evidently identifies a systematic lifecycle for brand popularity. Each group reverses its preferences as soon as they are adopted by a group perceived as less cool than itself. Thus, the (bleeding) edge teens (the freakazoids, if you will excuse an obsolete term from my own youth) will drop anything adopted by the smug (group two). Those anointed will in turn reject a fashion once their adoption of it has been influential with the nobodies (or proles, if you will excuse a term from George Orwell's 1984). Notice that from this point of view, it may make economic sense for the influencers to adopt the most expensive fashions, since this will delay the moment when general adoption forces them to switch to a new fashion. The designated conformists (i.e., the third and bottom echelon of ``teen society,'' in contradistinction to the other two, also conformist echelons) also have a contemned uncool group, whose adoption of a trend signals the time when a new fashion must be taken up. That group is their mothers.
[I would generalize the ``slower (right)'' comment, but I don't know how it works in any drive-on-the-left countries, or really anywhere outside North America.]
Even though no one ever knowingly steals anything from the faculty lounge refrigerator, I tag my diet Coke cans.
Nancy Sinatra had her solitary hit in 1966 with Lee Hazelwood's ``These Boots Were Made For Walking.'' Singing ability is not guaranteed heritable, but it was a catchy-enough ditty and she looked good in boots. Poor little rich girl. Many years later she tried to relaunch her singing career with a Playboy pictorial. She was paid for the pictorial up front, so to speak, but I don't know if she lost it all on the subsequent tour (which flopped quickly). The perils of having a famous dad. ``Boots'' has since been covered by Boy George and KMFDM. I'd hesitate to use the term ``tribute performance'' here without further research. Anyway, one line in that song went ``You keep lying, when you oughta be truthin'.'' But it seemed forced and artificial like, well, um, let's just leave it at that.
The question arises, is there a naturally-occurring single-word antonym for the verb `lie'? There are certainly synonyms -- dissemble, dissimulate (as well, amusingly, as certain uses of transitive simulate). The words mendaciloquent and mendation suggest a regularly formed verb mendate meaning `lie,' but this is apparently not attested.
Sooth, long a synonym of truth and true, has seldom been verbed. The most fitting word seems to be level. Normally, one doesn't baldly ``level'' but instead levels with s.o. Still, it's intransitive.
One is reminded of the Houyhnhnms (in part IV of Gulliver's Travels), to whom lying was so foreign that they needed a circumlocution to express the idea -- ``say the Thing which is not.'' As Dr. Gulliver explains parenthetically: ``For they have no Word in their Language to express Lying or Falsehood.'' They must have a hell of a time with proofs by contradiction.
You don't have access to the rest of this entry.
Tuberous Sclerosis is a genetic disorder that causes benign tumors to form in any of the vital organs - including the brain, eyes, heart, kidneys and skin. It is often first recognized because of epileptic seizures and/or varying degrees of development delay. TS occurs in both sexes and in all races and/or ethnic groups. There are approximately 25,000 to 40,000 individuals with TS in the U.S. and approximately 1,000,000 worldwide
``Benign'' is a technical term meaning that a neoplasm doesn't grow like a cancer. The above demonstrates that benign tumors may not be.
TSEC's numbers don't seem to follow any business-sector pattern, so it should be possible to have some kind of check-sum or error digit. It doesn't look like they do: Namchow Chemical Industrial is 1702, Cheng Hong Chemical 1705, Grape King 1707, Formosan Union Chemical 1709... Hmmm. Okay, maybe there is a business-sector pattern here. Grape King turns out to be a chemical and pharmaceutical company. But they also specialize in manufacturing ``functional drinks.'' I hope that doesn't include any sort of Kool-Aid.
Oh, here's something more detailed:
Grape King Inc. The Group's principal activities are manufacturing dairy products and preparation of pharmaceuticals, medicine, wine and softdrinks. Products distributed by the Group include probiotics ``come Sweat 7 strains granule,'' ``come Pei Erh 10 strains granule", immunomodulatory tonics ``995 super nutrition liquid and capsule,'' mushroom mycelia from submerged culture such as Gano-derma lucidum, Cordyceps sinensis, Agaricus blazei, Antrodia camphorata, Hericium erinaceus and Morchella esculenta. Other activities include trading of raw materials, fermentation, wine starter and feed additives.
Gee, you know, I think I'll just have a glass of water, if you don't mind.
TSEC seems to be the initialism preferred by TSEC itself, but TSE seems to be more common (and TAI is also used). As it happens, TSEC is not listed on TSEC, (if it's publicly traded at all), so it doesn't have a number. The Taiwan OTC Exchange, however, is TWO.
TSI does some research on cariogenicity, and scientific product testing and endorsement (indicated by a trademark of happy-tooth logo). They also promote awareness of toothfriendly sweets, and there are some interesting semitechnical pages at the TSI website.
There's a Japanese organization JATS (Japanese Association for Toothfriendly Sweets) and a Korean organization TSK (Toothfriendly Sweets Korea).
To judge from the newsletters on line, it seems like they had a brief burst of activity in 1995-7, with new activity in Korea and Argentina (Acción Diente Feliz) in particular, but that now they are resting on their dental floss.
Farmers' daughters.
You want it WHEN??!!
Here's some more from Dallas Semiconductor.
Just a guess.
Tennessee -- isn't that where the Scopes ``Monkey trial'' was held? Yeah -- Dayton, Tennessee, 1925. Oh, that Clarence Darrow -- he was impressive. Sure made a fool outta that Bible-thumper Bill Bryan. Too bad he lost the case. Actually not too bad. The ACLU strategy was to lose the case locally and win on appeal, so that a decision striking down the state law (which forbade the teaching of evolution in school) would be effective over the area of jurisdiction of a higher court. It didn't work out. On January 17, 1927 the Supreme Court of Tennessee reversed the conviction on technical grounds.
Here's how they decided the case: they found that the clear intent of the statute was to forbid the teaching the theory of evolution in public schools, and that this was fine because the state could tell its employees what to do. It was not in violation of the constitutional protections against an establishment of religion because, as the court chose to see it, the statute did not include a positive requirement to teach a doctrine that corresponded to the beliefs of any religion. The court noticed, however, that the (minimum) fine of $100 had been assessed by the judge in the case.
According to the Tennessee State constitution, however, any fine in excess of $50 had to be assessed by a jury. Even the Supreme Court was bound by this, so the judgement was reversed. It apparently would not have constituted double jeopardy to retry the case for the purpose of assessing a fine, but Chief Justice Green wrote for the majority:
The Court is informed that the plaintiff in error [Scopes: plaintiff in a writ-of-error appeal, convicted defendant in the original case] is no longer in the service of the State. We see nothing to be gained by prolonging the life of this bizarre case. On the contrary, we think the peace and dignity of the State, which all criminal prosecutions are brought to redress, will be better conserved by the entry of a nolle prosequi herein. Such a course is suggested to the Attorney-General.
Chapter 27 of the Acts of 1925, known as the Tennessee Anti-Evolution Act (and also as the Butler Act, after the fellow who introduces it) remained in effect until 1967 (repealed in May, repeal effective September 1). In 1968 the US Supreme Court found unconstitutional the prohibition of the teaching of evolution. TSTA was first established (as the Science Association of Tennessee) in 1975.
A subscription to a newsletter called ``Silencing Quarterly'' is included with TSTA membership. Oh wait, that was ``Sciencing Quarterly.''
TSTA is affiliated with the NEA.
If you have at least a nodding acquaintance with the sound values of the fifty-sound table, you can skip ahead to the paragraph captioned Nonintuitive Use. If not, then the next few paragraphs will provide a sufficient orientation. (And if you know the fifty-sound table very well, I doubt you'll learn anything new from this entry anyway.)
In some columns of the fifty-sound table, all the kana have exactly the same consonant. E.g., second column ka, ki, ku, ke, ko; fifth column na, ni, nu, ne, no, etc. In some columns, however, the consonant sound is modified by assimilation to the following vowel. This happens mostly in the second (i) and third (u) rows. The third column, for example, is sa, shi, su, se, so. (In some native Japanese accents I have heard, the si is incompletely assimilated and sounds half-lisped, like ss-shi. It's worth noting also that while final vowels tend to be weakly articulated in Japanese, the effect is especially strong with word-final su. Some pronounce it simply as a final s and some with a lax but palatalized u that would be written ssü in German. Pronunciation is context-dependent, of course, but I'm thinking mostly of the common verb ending, as in desu, the copula.)
Similarly, the sixth column is ha, hi, fu, he, ho. You know Japanese words like Hitachi and hibachi, and Fujitsu and futon, but you don't know any Japanese words with fi or hu. (Actually, fu is sometimes transliterated hu, but it's not common.) Note that here the f is a bilabial sound, represented by phi in the IPA, so the articulation is similar to h. (It also takes more effort to say than the labiodental f of English. One native Japanese-speaker told me he started out using the Japanese eff in English, but found it tiring and realized he had to switch.) Incidentally, ha is a common particle (one of the two main subject markers, in particular) and in that application is pronounced wa.
The fourth column exhibits the greatest assimilation: ta, chi, tsu, te, to. It's possible to represent a ti sound by the kana pair te-i, but this seems to occur mostly or only with non-Chinese loan words (and so to be written only in the katakana script). I've read that the tsu kana is sometimes transliterated tu, but I've never seen it that I can recall, and I don't think I've heard ``tu'' in Japanese. I wouldn't know how to represent the sound /tu/ using kana.
The kana ya, yu, and yo are also used small. Where the hi-ya kana pair in the same size is simply pronounced hiya (git along, little doge of Venice), with a small ya it's pronounced hya. The same pattern holds with most second-row (-i) consonant-vowel pairs. So, for example, chi-(ya), chi-(yu), and chi-(yo) are pronounced cha, chu, and cho.
In Woody Allen's ``Everything You Always Wanted To Know About Sex But Were Afraid to Ask,'' an experrrriment at the castle goes terribly wrong, and a woman's breast the size of a Cape Cod bungalow goes on dangerous rampage. (TTBOMM, it squirts venomous skim milk. AAMOF, milk from early in lactation always is a bit watery.) A cop on the scene speaks coolly into his squad-car radio:
It seems the large-breast idea was in the air at the time. In the same year (1972) Philip Roth (who else?) published The Breast. In Roth's novella, a junior academic named David Kepesh awakes one day to find himself transformed into a 155-pound (that's about eleven-stone) female bosom. (The surname Kepesh can be glossed as `hatter,' and perhaps Roth had that in mind.) Roth gave a substantial and not entirely comprehensible explanation of the genesis of the story in Shop Talk, in the chapter on the artist Philip Guston. The chapter is illustrated with three of the eight sketches by Guston that were inspired by episodes of the story. Roth wrote that he
turned his back on New York to hide out in a small furnished house in Woodstock, across town from Philip, whom I didn't know at the time. I was fleeing the publication of Portnoy's Complaint. My overnight notoriety as a sexual freak had become difficult to evade in Manhattan, and so I decided to clear out ... [eventually to a] small rented house tucked out of sight midway up a hillside meadow a couple of miles from Woodstock's main street. I lived there with a young woman who was finishing a Ph.D. [q.v.] ... During the day I wrote on a table in the upstairs spare bedroom while she went off to [a cabin she rented] to work on her dissertation.
He moved there in the Spring of 1969. The famous Woodstock festival/happening/ecological disaster took place in August that year. He doesn't mention it or Woody Allen.
Life in the country with a postgraduate student [why the British terminology?] was anything but freakish, and it provided a combination of social seclusion and physical pleasure that, given the illogic of creation, led me to write, over a four-year period, a cluster of uncharacteristically freakish books. My new reputation as a crazed penis was what instigated the fantasy at the heart of The Breast, a book about a college professor who turns into a female breast.
I don't know if there's a castle in that story, but the obvious allusion to Kafka's Metamorphosis might remind one that Kafka also wrote a story called The Castle [Das Schloß]. The reason I don't know whether there's a castle in Roth's story is that I didn't read it. I only learned about it in a book review of The Dying Animal, in which Roth describes Kepesh as an old man -- he apparently recovered his original form, eventually, like Teiresias. The book review was by Zoë Heller, the author of Everything You Know. Woody Allen's movie mentioned above takes its title (and little else) from Dr. David R. Reuben's book of 1969 -- Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex (But Were Afraid to Ask). Reuben's original title did not have the ``But Were Afraid'' clause in parentheses as it is often written, but as an asterisked footnote to the title (that was part of the title). It must be a nightmare to catalogue books like that.
Reuben must often have regretted not trademarking that title. Following is an incomplete list of books with titles that ``sample'' his. At least two (1981 and 2006 items by McCawley and Marinker, respectively) followed his scheme to the asterisk.
If my name were Everhart, I'd think twice before writing a book with unwelcome sexual information. (Especially so when its cover price is only going to be $2.50.) It reminds me of an epigram of Martial, which I'll insert here, or rather type in, as soon as I have a chance to track it down.
They're worshipping children now? This is ridiculous.
Cf. 1989 item.
Oh, brave title, Michael. Sure, the IRS doesn't scare anyone.
In case you're having trouble finding this work, it's NOAA technical memorandum NMFS F/SEC; 17. It's about fisheries management.
What I always wanted to know was-- Is there a legal way to get evangelists to head for it sooner?
Someone at Amazon.com could probably use a dose of potassium in the part of the brain that deals with spelling. According to that venerable virtual institution, people who purchased this book also roused themselves sufficiently to purchase one of the Harry Potter books. Given that ten percent of books sold in the US in the year 1990 were in the Potter series (an estimated quarter of unit sales were bought for the reading pleasure of adults fifty and older), this is perhaps not as significant a datum as might appear, but that's between you and your pharmacist. We just put the facts out there and let you decide.
Cf. 2007 item.
If you were afraid of that, there's a lot you wanted to know.
I'm afraid of John Bryant.
It's the twenty-fifth anniversary of the show, not a reprinting of a twenty-five-year-old book.
Really, that might be a pretty small book.
Phobiologyphobia -- the classic double bind! (This books was canned as a public service by Kirkus Reviews.)
A pamphlet?
This is part of a series called the ``Need to Know Library.''
Scholastic Press has a ``Homework Reference Series'' with titles in the
form Everything You Need to Know About Foobar
Homework, as if information useful for Foobar
homework is something you wouldn't find in a book that was
merely about foobar
ipse.
Scholastic has a book called Everything You Always Wanted to Know
About Kindergarten-But Didn't Know Whom to Ask, by Ellen Booth
Church. It's part of the Scholastic Parent Bookshelf.
Martha Sears, R.N. and William
Sears, M.D. (I believe they may be related)
have a series with titles in the pattern The Foo
Book: Everything You Need to Know
to Bar
, where
foo
is a single word like breastfeeding or
discipline. Reminds me of the reproduction joke about Freud and
one of his disciples. Bar
is a multiple-word predicate
including child or baby,
appropriately enough.
White's book, a need variant listed above (1978), at least had a parenthetical; it is not part of any series. Wiloch's is the only one I've included from any of the series, because of its implicit sexual content.
As everyone knows, aliens travel hundreds of light years to abduct humans for sexual experimentation. You've seen aliens on the cover of the supermarket tabloids -- let's face it, they're not very cute. It's pretty obvious that we earthlings are the hotties of the galaxy. And you know what they say -- ``Earth Girls Are Easy'' (1989, starring Geena Davis and David Goldblum). There's a Mrs. Merkin character in this movie. Jim Carrey is in it, but he wasn't a star at the time.
I don't know if Wiloch mentions alien abduction, but Joshua Piven and David Borgenicht discuss how to handle the problem in a paperback that was released on April 1, 2001 -- The Worst-Case Scenario Survival Handbook: Travel. We summarize their most useful advice at the EBE entry.
Truth to tell, I didn't want to know thing one about how to tutor. I won't buy a book just to put another pun on my bookcase. Sorry.
When we add sound effects, chattering teeth will be installed here.
Spiral bound, like all her books. I have a hard time figuring out who among those involved in the production and consumption of these books is serious.
This is the second of two books that have a common title and different subtitles. The author is the John the Beloved: the reincarnation of Edgar Cayce, writing as Dr. Harrison, or something like that. Don't ask me what to believe.
She means ``whom to ask.'' Another R.N./M.D. collaboration; Dr. Alan H. Kanter contributed a foreword.
Advice about B.O. and impotence.
It seems to have something to do with fusing colored glass rods into decorative stuff.
Cf. 1992 item.
During the 1988 US Presidential campaign, there was a single formal debate
between the vice-presidential candidates, on October 5. (Dan Rather insisted
on pointing out that it was merely a ``joint appearance'' and not a formal
debate in the traditional sense of the word. Thank you, Dan.) The veep candidates were Senator J. Danforth Quayle,
Republican of Indiana, 41, and Senator Lloyd Bentsen, Democrat of Texas, 67.
Quayle was widely regarded as an intellectual lightweight because he was an
intellectual lightweight. The charge of ignorance or stupidity isn't very
damaging in US politics, but the charge against which he had to defend himself
was lack of experience. We wouldn't want an inexperienced idiot to take
over the reins at a critical moment if, heaven forfend, anything should happen
to the experienced one we elected president. Danny had an answer to this which
he liked. He was warned by his advisors or baby-sitters or whatever that his
preferred answer was dangerous to use, and that Bentsen would pounce on it. An
hour into the ninety-minute debate, confronted for the third time with the
``experience'' question, Danny used it. He claimed that he had experience
comparable to that which JFK brought to the
presidency, office he had campaigned for in 1960 at age 43. Bentsen
pounced:
``Senator, I served with Jack Kennedy. I knew Jack Kennedy. Jack Kennedy was a friend of mine. ... Senator, you're no Jack Kennedy.''(The ellipsis above represents exquisite dramatic timing, not elision.)
Bentsen's riposte was a direct rhetorical hit, a hit with his partisans, and the only memorable line in the otherwise sleepy ordeal. The line's easily recognized formula was widely adapted. Bentsen eventually lamented publicly that he hadn't copyrighted it. On reflection, though, perhaps it's not quite so original. There is a common expression that begins ``You don't know Jack....''
We're also planning an entry on ``The Joy of'' titles. I mean besides this one.
Cf. AFAIK (considerably more common than TTBOMKAB).
Also, exquisitely rare but not utterly unattested: Truly Troubled Bladder Or Monthly Madness.
The word ``streetcar'' evolved from the compound noun ``street car,'' and the TTC didn't switch to the one-word form until the 1980's. As of 2003 there were still some signs around Toronto with the old two-word form. For a related instance of unupdated terminology, see HSR.
``Ta-Ta'' is an affected, or mock-affected, way of saying Bye. Cf. BFN.
TTG conducts something it calls the Battleground Poll. ``Initiated in June 1991, the Battleground Polls have gained widespread media recognition as reliable bellwethers of national opinion and voters' intentions. The Battleground data projected the outcome of the 1992 presidential race more precisely than any other similar effort in the country, including those of the major TV networks and national newspapers.'' I harvested this text in July 2008. Why no mention of 1996, 2000, or 2004? ``In addition, Battleground Polls have consistently been major predictors of what is going to happen in approaching Congressional elections.'' I'd be interested in a more quantitative metric (if there's any other kind) than ``consistently been major predictors.''
The Battleground Poll is one of those that asks a ``direction of country'' question. Personally, I think the US is an east-west country geographically, but a north-south country politically and a northeast-by-east-southwest-by-west country entertainmentwise, with small corrections for deviations from the reference ellipsoid or larger corrections if a spherical earth model is used. Apparently, however, none of these directions is an acceptable answer to those direction poll questions. This page at <pollingreport.com> lists results from various polls.
The LAT/Bloomberg poll asks this version of the question: ``Do you think things in this country are generally going in the right direction or are they seriously off on the wrong track?'' The asymmetry in the formulation (``generally'' vs. ``seriously'') probably doesn't reflect any intention to shade the results. Around 1981, George Gallup gave a lecture to a small group of us at the Graduate College in Princeton. Afterwards, I suggested that the formulation of one of his questions might skew the answers, and his reaction was essentially that gee, he hadn't thought of that. You wonder if there are any professionals in this field, or if they're all just tantamount to journalists.
In any case, the various forms of the subject question are regarded as equivalent for talking-head purposes. For example, the Newsweek poll, conducted by Princeton Survey Research Associates International, asks this: ``Are you satisfied or dissatisfied with the way things are going in the United States at this time?'' The results from the different forms of question seem comparable, perhaps in part because the people polled are so inured to the generic question that they don't listen carefully to the particular question they are asked. That happened to me.
During 2008, ninety per cent of the US population was employed by call centers to poll the population of the country. This caused a temporary upward tick in employment statistics, and consequently almost no one was home to be polled. One day I was home sick and got polled. The first question was one of those right-direction/wrong-track questions. I gave the wrong answer (something along the lines of ``I don't answer stupid questions'') and the interviewer terminated our conversation. I think this polling practice skews polls toward people who are so lonely they'll participate in any nonsense for the sake of human contact. Those people probably tend to think the country is going to hell in a handbasket, but then so do I. I can't help it--it's true. It's not a polling question; it's an intelligence test.
In terms of the simplest circuits one can design: TTL logic is fast, CMOS is low power.
ttu.edu seems to be the domain for their campus-wide information system (CWIS).
Don't wanna hear it again tonight!
``Does this mean it's not, like, really what you'd think of as a `university,' but in fact it turns out that technically it counts as one?''
No. Two more guesses. Cf. UP.
Phoenix was originally built at the confluence of the Salt River and a couple of others. Eventually, all three were dammed upstream of the city, leaving the riverbeds dry. There's a story that German POW's escaped from a local internment camp during WWII with the plan of stealing a rowboat and making for Mexico; their plan was foiled by the fact that the river, still indicated as water on maps, was dry. In the Southwest, though, many or most smaller creeks indicated on maps are dry in the Summer. The Salt, however, is allowed to flow for about a week each year in August. (Since the mid-1980's at least, there's been a charity fund-raiser associated with this: a duck race. It's essentially a lottery in which each lottery number corresponds to a particular rubber duck. The ducks are poured out of the back of a dump truck into the river, and the first one across the finish line downstream wins for its purchaser.)
Tubes, or electron tubes, or vacuum tubes, are called valves in England. (Visit the the National Valve Museum.) Tube and valve are one of the couple of hundred or so instances of things with completely different names in British English and American English. Other examples: elevator--lift; windshield--windscreen; hood--bonnet; trunk--boot; caboose--guard's van (roughly approximate); second floor--first storey. There's a certain amount of interdiffusion, and changes in vocable fashion can eliminate such differences. A good example perhaps fifty years ago might have been truck--lorry. Now, though lorry is still rare in US-age, truck is more common than lorry in the UK, so the most common word is the same in both countries.
Tubes are still made in countries that have recently become or will soon be ex-Communist. Also, One Electron specializes in vacuum-tube circuits.
You might want a look at a very typical five-tube radio. There was a time in the 1950's when just everyone used this circuit. When I was starting to play with electronic circuits and wanted to build a radio, my father wrote out essentially this circuit from memory. Like, here, try this. The tubes you need are in that box.
Tubes were still used in (musical) instrument amplifiers into the late 1990's because of their ``warm'' mellifluous saturation [ftnt. 8]. We're talkin' 'lectric guitars here -- strats an other axes, okay? You want saturation. You WANT saturation. You WANT SATURATION. YOU want to drive to distortion for that heavy-metal timbre; you want to blow your eardrums in.
A typical tube has a smoother voltage-transfer characteristic (VTC) than a BJT, so it stands to reason that tube amps introduce fewer high harmonics in saturation than BJT amps do. The effect cannot simply be filtered out with a linear filter, because high pitches must also be amplified. On the other hand, it is possible to use more transistor stages and achieve the same amplification factor without driving the transistors in any stage so far into saturation. That is, one can soften the saturation. MOSFETs have smoother VTC's than BJT's do, so MOSFET's began to be used for instrument amps, but they were too expensive for high-power applications. (Have a look at a schematic of a simple one.)
These transistor (``solid-state'') approaches were tried for a long time, but those more expensive transistor amps never seemed to achieve that nice warm distortion. All they did was reduce the harshness of the distortion by reducing the distortion. What was wanted was lots of distortion, but distortion that sounded good. Finally it came to be understood that the problem had to do with odd versus even harmonics. Tube amps used circuits that tend to introduce even harmonics -- overtones with frequencies that are even multiples of the fundamental frequency. (They're numbered as the ``odd overtones.'' Just think even frequency ratios and you'll be okay.) By switching to certain kinds of symmetric circuits that saturate the low end of a signal's voltage swing symmetrically with the high end, cheap transistor amplifiers began to be made that had distortion characteristics as good as cheap tube amplifiers. (Note that this symmetry is not enough. For example, a triangular wave has only odd harmonics.)
The usual assumption is that while medically unnecessary, the examination was pruriently advisable. It might be that, if the examinee is stupid or unconscious; any halfway competent examination for lumps is bound to be more informative than exciting. People joke about male gynecologists, but I suspect it's a couple of notches less pleasant than dentistry.
Available online at Perseus in both English and Latin.
More on Cicero at the chitlins entry.
Because of difficulties in fabricating devices with controllably large doping densities, tunnel diodes have not been commercially common.
Leo Esaki first described these in ``New Phenomena in Narrow Germanium p-n Junctions'' Phys. Rev. 109, p. 63 (1957). Tunnel diodes were made for a long time before Esaki described them, but they were typically discarded as ``unexplained data.''
Esaki also invented the Resonant Tunneling Diode. There is actually some question whether the tunneling is resonant in the original sense predicted (``coherent'' tunneling) or not (``sequential'' tunneling, which some distinguish as not ''resonant''). Generally speaking, ``tunnel diode'' refers to the older device and ``tunneling diode'' to the later (RTD structure) device.
For a dream insight, here is a link.
TUPE has been verbed; the verb essentially means to transfer an employee, usually without essentially changing the employee's work. I think the E must be silent in the verb TUPE. Sample usage:
Existing staff need to be TUPEd (or ``TUPEd across'' or ``TUPEd out'' or ``TUPEd over'') to the new supplier.
Immediately before the address was given, a group of German-born members of the Society, sitting together in the very front row and knowing the nature of the subject matter, rose and draped [the speaker's] shoulders in toilet paper. During the beginning of the lecture, the German group was in high spirits and good humor, and seemed to thoroughly enjoy the paper, laughing loudly and often at the various examples of folklore presented. As the argument developed and such matters as Auschwitz were discussed, there was less laughter. By the end, several of the Germans were so violently angry that they were unable to speak.
His very good friend Wolfgang Mieder was the only one to approach him following the talk, and he said ``I'm afraid it's true!'' It has to be said, however, that Mieder heard Dundes speak from the advantage of a choir seat. Here's a paragraph from a letter Mieder had written to Dundes the previous May:
Included please find some variations of the word "shit" and a copy of my short article on the word "shit" ["Das Wort `Shit' und seine lexikographische Erfassung"]. Remember, it takes a German to write on something like that!
Other reactions were mostly either more negative or much more negative. The apt and equivocal description of Dundes's work as a ``turd de force'' came from one of the ``colleagues sympathetic to [his] research.''
Steve Martin performed a comedic musical number based on King Tut. It may be hard to believe, but some further related thoughts on this topic are contained in the Hfuhruhurr entry.
You know, in the US state of Indiana, there are no motor vehicle inspections, ever. Pretty amazing, I know. You pays your taxes and you drives your car. I find that the prevalence of misaligned headlights and smoking exhaust pipes is lower here than in New York State, which has inspections performed by private garages. (Motor vehicle inspection has been privatized this way in a number of states.)
The Average [US] Home Now Has 2.3 TV Sets and 2.7 People. Oops. That was 1996. In 1997 it was 2.4 TV Sets and 2.6 People. It seems to me the trend lines must have crossed in 1998, but the company (or at least the domain) that was source for those numbers was gone when I went back to check in 2004. Apparently the market is saturated, however, and current estimates for the US cluster around 2.5, with high estimates approaching 3.
According to http://mouth.pathfinder.com/living/daily/062597.html,
The White Dot, a newsletter for a TV-free lifestyle, hopes to help families wean themselves from the ``sewer pipe into the soul'' that sits in all of our living rooms. First published last year by mother-of-two Jean Lotus, the White Dot takes its name from the little circle that was left on early television screens after the tube was turned off. Americans now tune in for an average of four hours a day, says Lotus, time that she spends talking, reading or playing with her family. And while Lotus doesn't proselytize, a recent issue included several little yellow stick-on notes to paste on friends' TV with the message, ``Stop staring at a piece of furniture.'' The White Dot costs $8 for four issues (write P.O. Box 577257, Chicago, Ill. 60657 for more information).
Here, see the TV Turnoff Network. (I'll move all this along when I create a Don Quixote entry.) Okay, here's an opposing view.
You know, I never used to think of a TV as a piece of furniture, exactly (more like part of the family, really), but when I rented a furnished apartment (I had to go to work as soon as I moved in), part of the package deal was a TV. This was for a package that didn't even include curtains.
Here are the faq's for television newsgroups that have them.
What, no more on TV? Try the Uncle Miltie entry. (The first sentence would be funnier if English had phonetic spelling, but it would highlight the wrong pun.)
Bill McKibben's book The Age of Missing Information was published in 1992. His big discovery is that TV programming could be better.
Joseph Heller has the reputation of being a slow writer. His first novel, Catch-22, is supposed to illustrate that. He claimed he spent seven or eight years writing it, writing during weekends and in the evenings after work. ``I gave up once and started watching television with my wife. Television drove me back to Catch-22. I couldn't imagine what Americans did at night when they weren't writing novels.'' He should have asked me.
[Incidentally, I misdoubt that 7-8 year estimate. Heller wrote the first chapter in 1955 and the book was published in 1961, but maybe he'd been working on parts of it before. All my information in this paragraph is from Judith Ruderman's Joseph Heller (NY: Continuum Pr., 1991), p. 21. Ruderman lists a number of primary sources in a footnote. You could only believe my comments here if I tracked down those sources, but if I did so, you'd have to conclude I was crazy and could not believe my comments here. You can believe that the working title of Catch-22 for most of the time that it was being written was Catch-18, because I mention that elsewhere.]
Tuvalu, like many countries, is a bunch of tiny islands in the Pacific Ocean. Tuvalu's total area is about one-third that of the Dallas-Fort Worth airport, in nine atolls scattered across 600 miles. ``Tuvalu'' means `group of eight.' (Niulakita has a swamp rather than a lagoon at its center, and no permanent residents.)
In early 2000, a California internet company called Idealab agreed to pay the government of Tuvalu 50 million dollars in royalties over 10 years for the rights to the .tv top-level domain. Their idea is to auction off .tv domain names, particularly to the television industry. kino1.tv bought in. Back in 2000 and maybe 2001 I heard radio ads touting the proposition that dot tv domains are hot. If they say so, I guess. Many years ago, there was a TV ad campaign claiming that ``radio is hot.'' It seems to be hot all over. Cf. .fm.
It's easy enough to adjust the voltage: trivial circuit analysis says the peak voltage is clipped at the Zener breakdown voltage (plus the smaller forward voltage). The main difference between different suppressors is how fast they react -- how fast their zeners break down.
MOV's are also used.
Here's the Taiwan page of an X.500 directory.
Here's a classic line from Cherry, the poet Mary Karr's memoir of her teens. It's the conclusion of a lecturing-to on the subject of Algebra I that she received from her junior-high principal:
It was sort of a sign that maybe this airline was not entirely on top of things. In early 2001, TWA was absorbed by American Airlines (AA).
NPR has Nina Totenberg, one of the commercial networks has Barbara Walters, and TWC has Paul Kocin (mentioned at the NESIS entry). All of these people have certifiably irritating speaking voices. If what they have to say ever really needs to be said, then it should be said by stunt doubles, or pinch talkers or something.
Something you're less likely to have heard of is the ArchguitarTM. That's a narrow guitar with a wide neck and a lot of separate strings -- between nine and thirteen. ``The archguitar originated in 1982 when 22 year old guitarist [also described as a ``professional street musician in Europe''] Peter Blanchette asked luthier Walter Stanul to build him an instrument that `played like a guitar but could sound like a lute.' As a classical guitarist, Blanchette was frustrated by the lack of bass strings lower than the sixth string of the guitar.''
The Renaissance lute had six to eight ``courses'' (the highest course was a single string, the rest were pairs). In most lutes, the (multi-string) courses were tuned in unison.
As other instruments got louder, the lute began to lose its ``niche'' in the ecology of instruments, and when it was given a competitive range of pitches, it became a chore to tune all the strings. Eventually, as in other Darwinian situations, it was relegated to extreme environments and survival modes. One extreme was the theorbo, a sort of hypertrophic bass. That's a couple of meters long and has one course of three strings. These are tuned with one string an octave higher than the other two. This is called reentrant tuning, persumably because the higher string is only in resonance with the first overtone of the lower strings. This means that coupling between the strings occurs through nonlinear terms, which are usually weaker. This can result in a slow feedback of energy into the string with the fastest (isolated) decay, and I suppose this slow re-entry of energy is what is referred to, but that's just a guess and I really don't know.
The twelve-string guitar also uses reentrant tuning on the four bottom courses. (One string is tuned to the usual pitch used for a six-string guitar, the other string in the course is tuned an octave higher. Obviously this gives a richer timbre.) The two top courses are tuned in unison.
What you need to know is that a league is a distance of like three miles, so 20,000 leagues is a distance traveled under water, not a depth.
There are apparently two different kinds of mensuration league: a league on land is about three miles, but was never standardized; a nautical league is about 3.45 miles (5.56 km). In the National Football League, another mensuration regime is in place.
Civil twilight corresponds to the time and light of the sun six degrees below the horizon and higher. Nautical twilight is defined using twelve degrees instead. That is, morning nautical twilight (MNT) begins (BMNT) when the sun is twelve degrees below the horizon and ends at dawn. (During the winter half of the year inside the Arctic and Antarctic circles, dawn and dusk don't occur for some part of the year -- an increasing fraction of the year as one approaches the pole. I suppose then morning twilight ends at noon. At the pole, presumably, morning twilight lasts from the vernal equinox to the winter solstice, if you really want to go to the trouble of defining ``morning.'') Near and within the arctic regions, there is also some difficulty defining the beginning and end of twilight. On this see EENT.
At any point on earth, the sun rises due East and sets due West on the equinox. (Okay, there's a fraction of a degree inaccuracy in that statement because the equinox is a moment rather than a day, and because the earth nutates a little. Give it a rest.) At the equator on the day of an equinox, the sun's apparent motion in the sky is a great circle through the zenith, with a constant speed of one degree every four minutes (or fifteen minutes of arc per minute of time, if you prefer), so civil twilight lasts twenty-four minutes and nautical twilight forty-eight. At every other time of the year, and at every other latitude, twilight lasts longer if given a chance.
There are various kinds of twins. Among humans, fraternal twins are the most common. As everyone knows, fraternal twins develop from two independent ova that are fertilized by two spermatozoa. As the term is traditionally applied, it is assumed that both the eggs and the sperm each come from the same parents. Fraternal twins have about half their genes in common with each parent and with each other. This is the same level of genetic similarity that there is between any two non-twin siblings with both parents in common.
I should point out that when people speak or write of two individuals having some fraction of their genes or DNA in common, this is a shorthand that is technically incorrect. Any two humans have more than 99% of their genes in common. When one says that two fraternal twins have half their genes in common, what one means is that half of their genes are required, by the mechanics of the fertilization and development process, to be identical, or at least transcriptions from a single original. The other half of the genetic information is also mostly identical, but in a less direct way. The other genes are similar simply because there is a common genome that most individuals of a given species share. One could say, a little more accurately, that fraternal twins have only half the genetic variation of two randomly selected individuals, but that is not entirely precise either. Fraternal twins born of parents from a homogeneous community will be more similar than those born of parents from very different communities. The extreme of different communities, of course, is different species, and that indicates a bound on variation. Individuals of different species, by definition, do not produce fertile offspring. In many cases, of course, fertile offspring do not occur because of purely mechanical or even strong psychological barriers to mating. In general, however, when members of two sufficiently different species mate, no zygote results, or a zygote results but eventually cannot thrive. Genes have to work together and past some point, different genes don't yield a viable individual. Jeff Goldblum (and David Hedison), forget it.
Another issue, which compels us to qualify each ``half'' or similar dyadic fraction with an ``approximately,'' has to do with the granularity of the genome. Each normal (yes, ``normal''; no offense intended) human individual has 46 chromosomes. That's 22 pairs of autosomal chromosomes, plus two sex chromosomes (two X's for females and an XY pair for males). Genes can be exchanged between chromosomes of an autosomal pair, and occasionally genes move to different chromosomes, but a Y chromosome doesn't play that game with its X, at least not very often. The Y is a very reduced package of genes, so a male expresses most of the corresponding genes from whichever X chromosome he got from his mother. Moreover, a male has the same Y chromosome as his father, so fraternal twin brothers have about half their genes in common (in the usual sense) on the 47 large chromosomes, and all their genes in common on the small chromosome for cojones. And males constitute about 53% of babies born (absent sex-choice interventions). You can put that all together however you want, but the chances of it coming out exactly 50% DNA variation are nil. See also mDNA.
In vitro fertilization offers some other possibilities, but one possibility that has always existed, and which is indeed common in the animal kingdom, is heteropaternal superfecundation. Not ``heteromaternal'': the way this has to go, the heteroparentage is on the fathers' side: two (or more!) different fathers' sperm fertilizing different eggs of the mother. Twins by different fathers are genetically as similar as half-siblings. Let's not even mention sperm competition in the animal kingdom. Heteroparental superfecundation is normally described as rare. I imagine it was and mostly still is, but its incidence is usually not suspected unless the twins are of different races. (Yeah, yeah, ``race'' is socially constructed, sure.)
Augustus Caesar's daughter Julia was well known to be quite promiscuous. When asked why her children all resembled her husband, she explained that she never took on a passenger until the boat was loaded.
Identical twins occur when the developing zygote splits into separate individuals. This can occur multiple times, leading to identical triplets, etc. Traditionally, identical twins occur in less than one in four hundred pregnancies, and identical triplets and quadruplets are considerably rarer. Armadillos are born in litters of four: identical quadruplets.
Identical twins are genetically identical. Sure, there are occasional transcription errors. To be more precise we can say that two cells chosen at random from two identical twins probably have exactly identical genes, and that the frequency of differences is comparable to the frequency of differences between two cells chosen at random from a single individual. Differences between identical twins are said to arise from environmental differences. That does not mean that they are not genetic differences: environment can affect gene expression. Environmental differences begin in the placenta, with slight, possibly random or fluctuational chemical gradients. Eventually, position differences in the womb can have an effect. Late in pregnancy, especially with twins, the placenta gets crowded and a fetus doesn't move around very much until it's about to be born.
One kind of difference between identical twins arises from what one might not think of as an environmental difference: development at time of splitting. A minority of zygotes that split do so immediately after the first cell division following fertilization (a couple of hours after fertilization, say), and this apparently leads to the most closely identical twins. Usually, however, splitting occurs when the zygote consists of more than two cells. When separation occurs in this case the resulting individuals are less similar. I don't know if this is known to be due to incipient differentiation of cells in the blastula, or to uneven splitting, or what. I guess I ought to look it up off-line. Later-than-usual separation, 9-12 days after fertilization, can lead to ``mirror-image identical twins.'' In some cases, even the internal organs may exhibit mirror images, with one heart on the right, etc. If separation occurs much later, there is a risk that the twins will be conjoined (``Siamese twins'').
The egg can split before fertilization also. If both eggs are fertilized and attach, half-identical twins arise. Half-identical twins share three-quarters of their DNA, in the same loose sense that fraternal twins share half their DNA.
The existence of half-identical twins is significant for the interpretation of identical twin studies. Some half-identical twins are mistaken for fraternal twins, and some for identical twins. The former are bound to be a small fraction of twins regarded as fraternal, so regardless of methodology they have little effect on any control group of fraternal twins. If half-identical twins are included in the group of ``identical twins,'' then they will introduce genetic variation into a group where variations are supposed to arise from environment only, and thus decrease the apparent fraction of variation attributable to genetics (not that that is a really well-defined thing either).
Then again, maybe not. See two excimer below.
In January 2006 I searched the Science Citation Index (1975-2006) and found 24 instances of ``two excimer.'' In all cases, the term occurred in title or abstract as part of a phrase in which excimer was attributive and two modified a separate plural noun (``two excimer lasers'' was the typical phrase). For normalization, you may want to know that the same kind of general search (``topic search'') found 15,793 articles for ``excimer'' and 1,946 for ``exciplex.'' This does not exclude the possibility that ``two excimer'' in the sense given by Barnhart occurred in the text of one or more articles, was used in conferences, or had some currency before 1975. (It's very much harder to do any kind of subject or keyword search using the paper SCI that dates back to the early 1960's). For comparison, I did a similar search for ``mixed excimer,'' a term that was introduced in 1962 and withdrawn in favor of exciplex in 1967. This turned up two articles, and in one of them (from 1997) the term is clearly used as a synonym for exciplex. (I also checked Chemical Abstracts, though less thoroughly. There were 34 ``two excimer'' hits, all of the usual sort; of 18 ``mixed excimer'' hits, about half the instances were in the exciplex sense.)
Let me pass along a little trick I picked up when I was a student: don't study the stuff you already know. If you're not too ignorant to follow this advice, it can be a great time-saver. For this reason, I don't have entries for the well-known two-letter words like an, as, at, ax, by, do, fa, go, he, id, if, in, is, it, la, lo, ma, me, mi, mu, my, nu, of, oh, on, or, ox, pa, pi, up, us, and we, and others like them, for the most part. Now all you have to do is comb through the glossary for the unusual ones.
Oh alright: this page served by Mike Wolfberg lists all two-letter words in the OSPD4; this page served by Bob Jackman lists all two-letter words in SOWPODS.
In the 1990's, loosened FCC regulations in the US allowed individual companies to own many different radio stations, even within a single market or broadcasting area. As a result, the same promotions and stale gimmicks (like Two-for-Tuesday, ``basement tapes,'' and cookie-cutter drive-time personalities) appear simultaneously around the country. You call the DJ of your ``local'' station on an 800 number. It's just that much harder for a small local band to break into the big time by playing local clubs, building a local following, and getting local airplay, because there's very little local anything.
Suppose you have two coins, neither necessarily fair. Let coin i (i=1,2) have a probability 0.5 + ei of turning up heads (ei=0 for a fair coin; |ei| > 0.5 for a coin not of this universe). The probability that the coins turn up different is
(0.5 + e ) × (0.5 - e ) + (0.5 - e ) × (0.5 + e ) 1 2 1 2 coin #1 heads, #2 tails or #1 tails, #2 headsor 0.5 - 2e1e2.
Now the previous statement -- that one fair coin makes a fair game -- is clear from the fact that the different-faces result has probability 0.5 so long as at least one ei is zero. Furthermore, two-up is ``second-order fair'' in the following sense: If ei is regarded as a small quantity, which it usually is, then betting on a single coin is first-order fair in the sense that the deviation from fairness is first-order in e. Two-up is considerably fairer -- second-order fair, in the sense that the deviation from fairness is second order in e. To take an extreme case, suppose two-up is played with two rather unfair coins, weighted to turn up heads 60% of the time and tails 40% of the time. This 3:2 bias would be pretty obvious: any three consecutive flips of such a coin turn up all heads almost twice as often (21.6% of the time) as would occur by chance with a fair coin (12.5%). On the other hand, two such unfair coins (described by e=0.1) produce outcomes in two-up that have probabilities 0.52 (same faces) and 0.48 (different faces).
I think that when people think of unfair coins they imagine one face weighted more heavily than the other, but maybe it's easier to make an unfair coin by beveling the edge.
This glossary has more on games of chance.
The idea of alternating errors in such a way as to cancel the first-order error and have only second-order errors remain is a very fruitful concept in computer methods of numerical integration. One elementary realization of the idea is in Crank-Nicholson numerical integration algorithms for differential equations.
The idea of multiple coin flips is also used in a polling technique developed to preserve anonymity. It was used by the student newspaper at Princeton University, in a survey of academic honesty around 1980. I forget the details, but it would have gone something like this: each survey respondent is asked to recall whether he or she has ever violated the honor code, but not asked to answer directly. Instead, the student is to flip a coin twice, and if it comes up heads both times, to answer the question incorrectly (``lie'') and otherwise to answer truthfully. This preserves anonymity because in any particular case, unknowable chance plays a role in determining the student's response. A student answering ``yes'' may be admitting a violation or else may be a non-cheater who has turned up two heads. In a Bayesian approach, if one guesses to begin that honor-code violation is rare, then one can easily conclude in any individual ``yes'' answer, that the individual flipped two heads.
Overall, however, it is possible to extract a statistic from the polling data: if a fraction p of (surveyed) students have cheated, and if all students follow the instructions correctly, then the fraction of ``yes'' answers will be 0.25 + 0.5p [so p = 2 × ( yes-fraction - 0.25)]. If the survey finds a yes-fraction less than 0.25 or greater than 0.75, then there's a problem. That's what often happens. The point of the procedure is to remove the stigma of a yes answer, but this doesn't succeed so well; too many people fail to follow instructions. Maybe they don't understand, or they use all-tail coins (sure, happens all the time), or are reluctant to give a ``yes'' answer when they get two heads.
The school has had the following names
It's interesting that the ``college'' did not become a ``university'' until 1957, despite having enrolled graduate students since 1930 and having awarded doctoral degrees starting in 1953.
A small fraction of the graduate students and almost none of the undergraduates are male, for an overall 10% of enrollment. Is this great or what? And everyone is trapped at Denton, Texas! (Thirty-five miles north of the Dallas/Fort Worth Metroplex, and zero miles from nowhere. Don't get stuck in one of the branch campuses -- Dallas and Houston; the fish probably don't bite there.)
Incidentally, you can set a language preference in Google, and one of the language options is Elmer Fudd. (You can't search only on pages written in Elmer Fudd, though. It's what they call a feature.)
The show had 12 million viewers (in Britain; I don't know how much that is in dollars) and David Frost became somewhat well-known. Contrary to the claim of this page, this did not make him a celebrity. A celebrity is someone famous for being famous. Frost only became a celebrity later, particularly in the US. He is familiar to readers of this glossary because he interviewed disgraced former US President Nixon -- see the ED (for erectile dysfunction) entry. Frost didn't interview John Profumo, but his show did ridicule him.
TW3 hired Tom Lehrer to write some songs for the show, which they generally misused or abused, and which he recorded and sold as a number of albums (live, in studio, live in Australia... -- all the same songs).
Every successful show begets a less successful sequel. TW3 begot NSMAPMAWOL.
The Villanova Center for Information Law and Policy serves a page of Texas state government links. USACityLink.com has a page with some city and town links for the state.
Texas is a community property state.
Many people are aware that Texas was an independent country before it became a part of the US. (The same is true of California -- hence the flags you've seen, of the short-lived ``California Republic.'') Many people continue to regard Texas as an independent country unto itself, with independently variable degrees of levity and animosity. Some Texan cousins of mine reported that back in the sixties or so, visiting the Blarney Stone, their tour group was warmed up by some comedian who asked people to raise their hands when he called their countries' names. He called the US and Texas separately. I mention this by way of transition. In the MBH entry, I refer to West Texas after writing ``I would mention country where....'' I want you to understand that I'm not treating Texas as a country and forgetting to insert an article before the count noun country. Instead, I am treating West Texas as a region -- country in the mass-noun sense, like ``cattle country.'' Make no misteak -- we never do.
Explanation of abbreviation at Rx.
Well, okay, a highlight from the chaff: in reply to a male chatter's suggestion, one woman I don't know replied, ``my ass is one-way.'' When that was original, it was clever. I suppose now we'll need a cloaca entry. The task is endless!
Sound research does not always require mathematical methods or impersonal objective procedures, but they can help. One reason is that-- oh never mind, I just wanted to quote this:
Ten students from each grade, 2nd, 4th, and 6th, from each group were chosen, but not through statistical sampling. At each school, teachers were asked to choose the ``most average'' readers from their classes, that is, the students they considered the most average for their class in that school. It became apparent immediately that the teachers were selecting their best readers, and so the instructions to the teachers were changed. They were asked to list their ten best readers and their ten worst readers; ten subjects were then drawn from those not listed in either group. ...
[This is from ``The Miscue-ESL Project,'' chapter 14 of Interactive Approaches to Second Language Reading, ed. Patricia L. Carrell, Joanne Devine, and David E. Eskey (Cambridge Un. Pr., 1988). The word miscue in the chapter title does not refer to events described in the quote above; the chapter is a report by Pat Rigg of ongoing research into the reading errors made by children who are learning English, rather than the woebegone teachers they are learning it from.]
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Oops! Overshot the pointers.