At first glance, today’s title may seem like a non sequitur.1 What do pierogi2 have to do with the ukulele?3 No, this title isn’t4 written as an intentional non sequitur to spark my creative energies. Rather, I realized that the same thought processes inform my choice of both making pierogi and pronouncing ukulele.
To understand what I mean by that, at the bottom of today’s essay are two pierogi recipes.5 One of them is a recipe I found online,6 and the other is the recipe I used last time I made pierogi.7 As a bonus, I also include the gluten free pierogi dough recipe I used.8
If you’ve read the recipes, you might notice a few differences between the two recipes.9 The biggest difference to me is in the dough.10 They use both sour cream and water in their dough, while I don’t use either. My reason for this comes from my formative years, when I learned to make pasta. According to my teacher,11 Italian pasta dough12 only contains salt, egg, flour, and oil.
Since that dough has worked for everything I ever needed a dough for,13 I never felt the need to use other pasta doughs.14 So, when I made my pierogi, I just made dough the way I always do.15
Now, by this point you might be asking what making dumplings has to do with the pronunciation of ukulele.16 To me, they’re two reflections of the same universal truth: people adapt everything they learn to fit into their prior knowledge and experiences.
In IPA17 notation, the word ukulele is pronounced18 /?uku?ll/, which contrasts to the SAE19 pronunciation of /ju?k?lejli/. This is due to the nature of word movement through languages. When a word is assumed into a new language, it20 change its pronunciation to align to the new tongues phonological rules. In Hawaiian, there is no schwa,21 while SAE uses the schwa almost exclusively in unstressed syllables. Additionally, SAE almost never begins words with vowel /u/22. So, when the Hawaiian word entered the SAE lexicon, the /j/23 was added, to make it align with the rules of the language.
Now, both of these changes to the word are fine and natural, at least to me.24 But, I’ve heard and seen complaints about the both how to pronounce ukulele, and, indirectly about how to make pierogi. To be specific, I’ve been told that the way I pronounce the word “ukulele” is wrong, since the word is pronounced differently in the language of origin. Additionally, there are many people who feel that changing a culture’s recipe25 is wrong.26
To me, both of those erase the idea of positive change, which is makes the world beautiful and exciting. Should I stop calling what I make pierogi because I don’t use an “authentic” recipe?27 Should I try to relearn the phonological system of my native tongue to accommodate a single word?28 I personally don’t think so, and that’s where today’s title comes. Both the way I make pierogi and the way I pronounce ukulele come from the background and mental connections I made before encountering the idea.
At first glance, the title may seem like a non sequitur.29 What do pierogi30 have to do with the ukulele?31 No, this title isn’t32 written as a non sequitur as a way to spark my creative energies. Instead, while reflecting on my recipe for pierogi, especially in context with “authentic” recipes I’ve read, it occured to me that I feel similarly about pierogi and the pronunciation of the word ukulele.
To understand what I mean by that, below are two pierogi recipes. One of them is the recipe I found online,33 and the other is the recipe I used last time I made pierogi.34 As a bonus, I’ll also put in the gluten free pierogi dough recipe I came up with.35
So, you might notice a few differences between the two recipes.36 The biggest difference to me is in the dough. They use both sour cream and water in their dough, while I don’t use either. This mostly comes from when I first learned how to make pasta. According to the person teaching me,37 Italian pasta dough38 only has salt, egg, flour, and oil.
Since that dough has worked for everything I ever needed a dough for,39 I never felt the need to change it. So, when I made my pierogi, I just made dough the way I always do.
Now, by this point you might be asking what that has to do with the pronunciation of ukulele. To me, they’re two reflections of the same universal truth: people adapt everything they learn to fit into their prior knowledge and experiences.
In IPA40 notation, the word ukulele is pronounced41 /?uku?ll/, which contrasts to the SAE42 pronunciation of /ju?k?lejli/. This is due to the nature of word movement through languages. When a word is assumed into a new language, it43 change its pronunciation to align to the new tongues phonological rules. In Hawaiian, there is no schwa,44 while SAE uses the schwa almost exclusively in unstressed syllables. Additionally, SAE almost never begins words with vowel /u/45. So, when the Hawaiian word entered the SAE lexicon, the /j/46 was added, to make it align with the rules of the language.
Now, both of these changes are fine and natural, at least to me. But, I’ve heard and seen complaints about the second,47 and indirectly about the first.48 To be specific, I’ve been told that the way I pronounce the word “ukulele” is wrong. Indirectly, there are many people who feel that changing a culture’s recipe49 is wrong.50 To me, both of those erase the idea of change, which is at the heart of what makes the world beautiful and exciting. Should I stop calling what I make pierogi because I don’t use an “authentic”51 recipe? Should I try to relearn the phonological system of my native tongue to accommodate a single word? I personally don’t think so, and that’s where today’s title comes.
For the dough:
3-1/2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
3 large eggs
2 tablespoons sour cream
3/4 cup water
Filling:
2 cups mashed potatoes
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon onion powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1 cup grated cheddar cheese
Since pierogi making instructions, like most dumplings, are effectively just “make dough,” “make filling,” “put filling in dough,” I elide them here.
For the dough:
1 egg
olive oil in equal amount to the volume of egg
sprinkle salt
sprinkle black pepper
flour to correct consistency
For the Gluten Free Dough:52
1 egg
olive oil in just under amount of egg volume
sprinkle salt
sprinkle black pepper
white rice flour to correct consistency
Filling:
5 pounds potato, peeled53
1 lb cream cheese
1/2 pound butter
2 red onions
5 cloves garlic
olive oil as needed
sharp cheddar to taste
salt and pepper to taste
To make the filling, boil the potatoes, mince garlic and fry with onion in olive oil until caramalized. Drain potatoes when soft, then add everything together, mixing well.
To make the dough, all ingredients but flour in a bowl, then slowly add flour until solid enough to handle. Move onto a floured workspace and add more flour until the correct consistency.
Lat. “it does not follow”↩︎
Eastern European potato dumplings↩︎
and wasn’t↩︎
also, for those of you who have asked for my recipe↩︎
as best as I can recall/with mistakes I realized at the time fixed↩︎
for those of you who may want that for whatever reason↩︎
no, the fact that my filling has far more fat isn’t the relevant portion here, despite the fact that it absolutely makes it taste better↩︎
it helps that every recipe for pierogi acknowledges that you should substitute the filling for your own favorite↩︎
I don’t remember who, but I assume one of my parents↩︎
read: good pasta dough↩︎
especially as a base for other additions to the dough when I feel creative↩︎
with the exception of adding pepper, because I always put pepper in savory things with salt, which comes from an earlier formative experience↩︎
which really means just eyeballing everything and assuming it will work↩︎
you also might be wondering if I’m getting hungry writing about this, and the answer is absolutely↩︎
international phonetic alphabet↩︎
in Hawaiian↩︎
Standard American English↩︎
tends to↩︎
upside-down e↩︎
the ou in you↩︎
like the y in you↩︎
and descriptivist users of language (read: most linguists)↩︎
especially when you don’t belong to that culture (and no, I don’t identify as Eastern European)↩︎
for reference: this site is one example, and this site offer some perspectives↩︎
side note: what defines authentic?↩︎
or pronounce everything as if it belongs to its original language↩︎
Lat. “it does not follow”↩︎
Eastern European potato dumplings↩︎
and wasn’t↩︎
the recipe came from my spur of the moment actions↩︎
for those of you who may want that for whatever reason↩︎
no, the fact that my filling has far more fat isn’t the relevant portion here↩︎
I honestly don’t remember who, but I assume one of my parents↩︎
read: correct pasta dough↩︎
especially as a base for other additions to the dough↩︎
international phonetic alphabet↩︎
in Hawaiian↩︎
Standard American English↩︎
tends to↩︎
the ou in you↩︎
like the y in you↩︎
how to pronounce ukulele↩︎
making pierogi↩︎
especially when you don’t belong to that culture↩︎
for reference: this site is one example, and this site offer some perspectives↩︎
side note: what defines authentic?↩︎
as an aside, I find it odd that people say gluten free doughs require tons of extra effort. Yes, with bread or things that need to trap gasses in them to rise, it’s difficult to get the correct blend of protiens, but for something like a dumpling shell, as long as it’s not water soluble and is neutrally flavored, it probably will work↩︎
that means 5 pounds before you peel them↩︎
Prereading note: I definitely have far more footnotes here (59 in total, 34 in the final draft) than normal (between 1 and 17 in total, and between 1 and 10 in the final draft) in my blog thus far. I have no clue why I felt the need for so many notes while writing this post, but they feel pretty needed. Additionally, since nested footnotes are apparently so frowned upon in different style circles that my editor doesn’t support them at all, nested notes will go in (), and if I doubly nest, I’ll use other [], and will continue to add as needed.
This spring, I started learning the Scottish bagpipes.1 While learning the bagpipe, one of my cross-country running friends2 asked me if I would be willing to play the (United States’) National Anthem3 at the Grinnell team’s only home meet, the Les Duke Invite. That meet is today, and (I think) just ended at the time of my writing this post. Obviously, I was unable to be there. But, their mentioning of the idea did spark me to try to find a bagpipe arrangement for The Star-Spangled Banner.4,5 Initial searches were fairly fruitless, with what versions I could find sounding nothing like the anthem I knew.6 I found a forum discussing this, and they concluded that the anthem is unplayable on the bagpipes.
Now, those of you who know me may know that I don’t take being told something is impossible well.7 It feels like a challenge. Some of you may also know that I8 compose music. The brilliant9 part of my mind thought that I would be able to arrange the piece for bagpipes. Obviously,10that wouldn’t fit the song,11 which requires an octave and a fifth range,12, and some chromatic notes.13 But, you can always drop and raise octaves to fit a piece in. Additionally, my teacher mentioned offhandedly that there are chromatic fingerings for the bagpipe. So, I worked off of a version of the piece in the key of G.14
There I ran into my first problem: I have no clue how to play a C natural on a bagpipe, which was required in the second half of the piece.15 But, more importantly than that, it was centered around G,16 which those of you familiar with harmonics may see is dissonant to A.17,18
When I asked a friend of mine who plays bagpipes,19 he told me that, in his experience, people would play the second half of the song,20 because the first half isn’t doable. That’s when I suddenly realized that there’s a modulation in the middle of The Star Spangled Banner.21 With that in mind, I transposed the end of the piece to D major, which worked pretty well.22 I then put the initial half back in the song.23 I expected some cognitive dissonance from the24 modulation in my version of the piece, but it was fairly minor. And, since the piece was centered around D, it fit in nicely with the harmonics of the instrument.
Then came to the part of arranging for bagpipe that I struggle with: adding the embellishments. The bagpipe plays a continuous note, so to break up repeated notes,25 small chirpy notes are played to break the sound. There are many kinds of embellishments, including grace notes,26, doublings and half doublings,27 and many others. As you might expect from a musical tradition lasting centuries, there’s a lot of theory behind deciding what embellishments go where28 which I don’t know and can’t easily find only. So, I put in embellishments that I knew29 and looked right where they were, then tried playing through. Nothing looked or sounded horrible to me, but I also don’t know enough to know if anything I do would be horrible. So, now I have a version of the National Anthem of the United States of America that fits entirely on the bagpipe. If anyone wants it, feel free to drop me a message at flyingrebelpipes@gmail.com. My only request if you end up using the piece is that you send me a recording of yourself playing it.
This spring, I started learning the bagpipe.30 While learning the bagpipe, one of my cross-country running friends31 asked me if I would be willing to play the (United States’) National Anthem32 at the Grinnell team’s only home meet, the Les Duke Invite. That meet is today, and (I think) just ended at the time of my writing this post. Obviously, I was unable to be there. But, their mentioning of the idea did spark me to try to find a bagpipe arrangement for The Star-Spangled Banner.33 Initial searches were fairly fruitless, with what versions I could find sounding nothing like the anthem I knew. I found a forum discussing this, and they concluded that the anthem is unplayable on the bagpipes.
Now, those of you who know me may know that I hate being told that something is impossible. It feels like a challenge. Some of you may also know that I34 compose music. I thought I would be able to arrange the piece for bagpipes. Obviously,35 that wouldn’t fit the song,36 which requires an octave and a fifth range,37, and some chromatic notes.38 But, you can always drop and raise octaves. So, I worked off of a version of the piece in the key of G.
There I ran into my first problem: I have no clue how to play a C natural on a bagpipe. But, more importantly than that, it was centered around G,39 which those of you familiar with harmonics may see is dissonant to A.40,41 When I asked a friend of mine who plays bagpipes,42 he told me that, in his experience, people would play the second half of the song,43 because the first half isn’t doable. That’s when I suddenly realized that there’s a modulation in the middle of The Star Spangled Banner.44 With that in mind, I transposed the end of the piece to D major, which worked pretty well.45 I then put the initial half back in the song.46 I expected some cognitive dissonance from the47 modulation in my version of the piece, but it was fairly minor. And, since the piece was centered around D, it fit in nicely with the harmonics of the instrument.
Then came to the part of arranging for bagpipe that is scary to me: adding the embellishments. The bagpipe plays a continuous note, so to break up repeated notes,48 small chirpy notes are played to break the sound. There’s a lot of theory behind where what embellishments go where49 which I have no clue about. So, I put in embellishments that I knew and looked right where they were, then tried playing through. Nothing felt horrible to me, but I also don’t know enough to know if anything I do would be horrible. So, now I have a version of the National Anthem of the United States of America that fits entirely on the bagpipe. If anyone wants it, feel free to drop me a message at flyingrebelpipes@gmail.com. My only request if you end up using the piece is that you send me a recording of yourself playing it.
I read somewhere (I think it may have been a quotation in one of the Rebelsky Family Bookclub Books) that some people recommend saying that they began playing, rather than learning, a new instrument. Their logic is that otherwise it becomes unclear where the learning stops and the playing starts. Personally, I prefer studying in that sort of context, but since that brings connotations of serious or academic purposes for learning, rather than my source of desire to learn (usually the feeling of “Ooh Shiny!” I find myself feeling when I see a new instrument),I still use learning, since I would say that I’m learning when I practice, and playing when I perform↩︎
I hope that the runner would agree with the term friend↩︎
I just realized that I have no clue whether or not the United States National Anthem needs a possessive. I feel like it should, since it is the National Anthem of the United States, but I don’t think I ever see it phrased that way↩︎
also, I just figured out a good way to avoid the issues of both the possessive (as above) and my tendency to refer to the song as “The National Anthem”, which is only accurate for a small subset of the world↩︎
new problem though, do you capitalize the “The” in the title if it’s in the middle of the sentence? I assume yes, since it’s a part of the title↩︎
I don’t link them because some people might take it as an attack, and I didn’t save them, so I don’t have them easily available↩︎
some of you may be calling this an understatement↩︎
try to↩︎
read: petty↩︎
to those of you who know that the bagpipe is a 9 note diatonic instrument starting on the subdominant in the key of D Major (if the prior statement made no sense, that’s ok, it’s just music jargon saying the bagpipe plays a[transposed] version of nine white piano keys, starting on an F[the key right before the three black keys next to each other])↩︎
another clever way to avoid the issue of naming↩︎
I think↩︎
I know this one. In the key of G, it requires a C natural and a C#↩︎
my logic being that the piece scored in D looked like it fit in the natural range of the pipe worse than the piece scored in G↩︎
hey! I did it again↩︎
which should have been obvious at the time, but I tend to avoid thinking big picture when I’m working out of spite↩︎
the note the drones play in↩︎
to the people who will point it out, I know in higher harmonics A and G are both in the same series, but the A’s are a major second above and a minor seventh below the G, which isn’t consonant↩︎
I chose play intentionally, since he performs fairly regularly, and is far more experienced than me↩︎
starting at “and the rocket’s red glare”↩︎
no, the use of C natural instead of C# and the fact that the piece is centered on D in the first half and G in the second didn’t occur to me. For why, please see footnote 16↩︎
there were only a few notes that didn’t fit well, and they’re minor notes that I didn’t notice the change for, probably because so many people use them as a place to improvise a little↩︎
which had earlier required a non-insignificant amount of octave switching, but not an undue amount↩︎
lack of↩︎
or add spice between different notes↩︎
which are any of D, E, F only if preceding an E, and high G↩︎
a high G grace note before the pitch being played, then the lowest grace note higher than the pitch being played, or the aforementioned without the high G, respectively↩︎
as far as I can tell from being told that in nearly those exact words↩︎
and felt comfortable playing↩︎
I read somewhere (I think it may have been a quotation in one of the Rebelsky Family Bookclub Book) that some people say playing, not learning a new instrument, because otherwise it becomes unclear where the learning stops and the playing starts. Personally, I prefer studying in that sort of context, but since that brings connotations of serious or academic purposes for learning, rather than my goals (usually less of a goal and more of a “Ooh Shiny!” feeling inside when I see a new instrument), I still use learning, since I would say that I’m learning when I practice, and playing when I perform↩︎
I hope that the runner would agree with the term friend↩︎
I just realized that I have no clue whether or not the United States National Anthem needs a possessive. I feel like it should, since it is the National Anthem of the United States, but I don’t think I ever see it phrased that way↩︎
also, I just figured out a good way to avoid the issues of both the possessive (as above) and my tendency to refer to the song as “The National Anthem”, which is only accurate for a small subset of the world↩︎
try to↩︎
to those of you who know that the bagpipe is a 9 note diatonic instrument starting on the subdominant tuned to D Major(if the above words made no sense, it’s ok, they’re effectively just jargon saying the bagpipe is a [transposed] version of nine white piano keys, starting on an F[the key right before the three black keys next to each other])↩︎
another clever way to avoid the issue↩︎
I think↩︎
I know. In the key of G, it requires a C natural and a C#↩︎
which should have been obvious at the time, but I tend to avoid thinking big picture when I’m doing things out of spite↩︎
the note the drones play in↩︎
yes, I know in higher harmonics they may eventually be consonant, but the A’s are a major second above and a minor seventh below the G, which isn’t consonant↩︎
I chose play intentionally, since he performs fairly regularly, and is far more experienced than me↩︎
starting at “and the rocket’s red glare”↩︎
new problem, do you capitalize the “The” in the title if it’s in the middle of the sentence? I assume yes, since it’s a part of the title↩︎
there were only a few notes that didn’t fit well, and they’re minor notes that I didn’t notice the change for, probably because so many people use them as a place to improvise a little↩︎
that required a fair amount of octave switching, but not an undue amount↩︎
lack of↩︎
or add spice between different notes↩︎
as far as I can tell from being told that in nearly those exact words↩︎
Today, I went on a riverwalk. Nominally, it was to fulfill an academic assignment. Since the assignment was vague,1 I chose to journey between the London Aquatics Centre2 and the River Thames.3 I found that 4 you can walk the entire distance from the Aquatic Centre to the Thames entirely along different rivers and streams.5 I had a great time during the walk! A part of me really wanted to go all the way to the English Chanel, but I knew that was a poor choice. For one, it would have been far longer than a 90 minute walk. Second, it’s really hard to decide where a tributary ends and where the real river6 ends. Finally, the footpath that would have let me walk along the Thames was closed. Nonetheless, it was a great time. If you want to see my journey at 60x speed,7 you can find it here. If you want to see it at 15x speed,8 along with fun information, you can find it here.
Today for a homework assignment, I went on a riverwalk.9 I chose to go from the London Aquatics Center10 to the River Thames.11 I found that you can go the entire distance from the Aquatic Centre to the Thames without ever leaving the river.12 It was a really fun walk. It was tempting to walk to where the Thames meets the Chanel, but I was unable to for two reasons: that would have put me well over the maximum time of 90 minutes, and the footpath following the Thames was closed.
take a walking journey of between 45 and 90 minutes between two historic locations↩︎
the site of the 2012 Summer Olympics and Paralympics Swimming and Diving Events↩︎
assuming you don’t make mistakes (which I did) and are ok trespassing(only for a short distance to avoid crossing an overpass)(which I was not)↩︎
and even one lock!↩︎
apparently the correct term is actually “main stem”↩︎
20 fps and 3 seconds between shots↩︎
5 fps and above↩︎
the assignment was to record a journey (by foot) of 45-90 minutes in length↩︎
home of the Summer 2012 Olympics and Paralympics↩︎
the largest river contained entirely in England↩︎
if you don’t make mistakes and have to backtrack (which I did)↩︎
I’m almost always listening to music, even if only inside my head. There’s something sublime about music’s ability to transport me from wherever I am and whatever I’m doing into a different place. Although every song doesn’t send me to the same place, or even the same place for each song, they always send me somewhere.
People ask me what kind of music I like1, and it’s a fair question. I’m a music major, I listen to a lot of music, and it’s a normal question. Nonetheless, I can only ever answer that I listen to almost everything. It’s both the most and least factual statement I can make.
The statement is filled with fact because there is no genre, artist, or even song that I completely refuse to see the merit of listening to. Every song has its place, and even if I don’t love every aspect of a piece2, I still can recognize why its loved. Even if I can’t think why a song is loved, I can see its belonging in a situation, whether as ambiance or as transition.
For a very similar reason, the statement is totally devoid of fact. That is, there is no song that I always love. Songs that I love in most circumstances are unbearable in others. As much as I love soft lilting pieces, I recognize that they don’t belong in most people’s pregame3 playlists. And, as much as I love heavy electronic beats, I understand that most people don’t use them as lullabies4.
Even If I don’t like a song though, I always prefer music to its absence, which may be one of my defining traits. If given the option between music or no music, there are nearly5 no situations wherein I would not prefer music. Music is the joy of life, and it’s a joy that I refuse to do without.
There’s something sublime about music’s ability to transport me from wherever I am and whatever I’m doing into a different place. Although every song doesn’t send me to the same place, or even the same place for each song, they always send me somewhere.
People ask me what kind of music I like6, and it’s a fair question. I’m a music major, I listen to a lot of music, and it’s a normal question. Nonetheless, I can only ever answer that I listen to almost everything. It’s both the most and least factual statement I can make.
The statement is filled with fact because there is no genre, artist, or even song that I completely refuse to see the merit of listening to. Every song has its place, and even if I don’t love every aspect of a piece7, I still can recognize why its loved. Even if I can’t think why a song is loved, I can see its belonging in a situation, whether as ambiance or as transition.
For a very similar reason, the statement is totally devoid of fact. That is, there is no song that I always love. Songs that I love in most circumstances are unbearable in others. As much as I love soft lilting pieces, I recognize that they don’t belong in most people’s pregame8 playlists. And, as much as I love heavy electronic beats, I understand that most people don’t use them as lullabies9.
Despite the fact that I may hate a song though, I still won’t refuse to listen to it. I always prefer music to its absence. That may be one of my defining traits. If given the option between music or no music, there are nearly10 no situations wherein I would not prefer music. Even if I may prefer silence to the exact song being played, that’s only because I’m always singing something to myself.
I love music. There’s something sublime about its ability to transport me from wherever I am, whatever I’m doing, into a different place. Every song doesn’t send me to the same place, and the same song may not send me to the same place twice, but they always send me somewhere different.
However, people ask me what kind of music I like11. My usual answer of “anything” generally isn’t well received. Nonetheless, it’s both the truest and least true statement I can make.
It’s the truest because there is no genre, artist, or even song that I completely refuse to see the merit of listening to. Every song has its place, and even if I don’t love every aspect of a piece, I still can recognize why its loved.
It’s the least true statement I can make for the same reason. There is no song that I would always want to listen to. Songs that I love in most circumstances are unbearable in others.
or prefer, or is my favorite. For my purposes, they’re effectively the same↩︎
or even most aspects↩︎
or meet↩︎
yes, both of those are real examples of music choices I make↩︎
I say nearly only because I’m sure there exists a situation, even if I can’t think of one↩︎
or prefer, or is my favorite. For my purposes, they’re effectively the same↩︎
or even most aspects↩︎
or meet↩︎
yes, both of those are real examples of music choices I make↩︎
I say nearly only because I’m sure there exists a situation, even if I can’t think of one↩︎
or prefer, or is my favorite. For my purposes, they’re effectively the same↩︎
Pre-reading note: I’m writing this post1 as I tend to write my papers. That is, a very rough sketch, a more polished draft, and so on until I have the quality I want2 in my writing. Since I’m not too embarrassed of my (lack of) writing ability, I thought I’d post my drafts here as well3. I’ll leave the final draft on the top, with the lower drafts in order from newest to oldest underneath.
Those of you following this blog closely may note that this is the eighth blog post I’ve made since starting the blog. Starting one week ago today, I began writing daily. While I don’t feel the need for a disclaimer at this exact moment4, I think it wise that I craft one sooner than later
You may ask why I feel this need5. To answer, I would reply that disclaimers are a good way to distance oneself from their work. I have in the past6 expressed views and beliefs I personally don’t ascribe to because I believe that they are not being given their fair share of time. Even though playing the Devil’s Advocate hasn’t come back to haunt me yet, I know that people tend to believe what you write is what you believe7, so I want to lessen the probability of misunderstandings. Additionally, my views often change over time. Since I’m not sure if I’ll believe everything I write in the future, it seems smart to say that my thoughts may change now rather than later.
Now that I’ve explained, why I’m writing my disclaimer, I should probably write it. I could copy my disclaimer from my inspiration’s blog site: “The opinions stated herein are those of me and do not necessarily reflect those of employer, the Rebelsky family, organizations, or even most other sentient beings.”8 However, much of that disclaimer isn’t relevant to me, and it doesn’t quite express the situation I find myself in. So, this is my version: “The views and opinions expressed on this site (and linked sites) do not necessarily reflect those of the author’s current, past, or future employers, the Rebelsky family, rebelsky.com, or even the author. Readers are advised to read at their own discretion.”
People following this blog closely may note that this is the eighth blog post I’ve made here. That is, starting one week ago today, I began writing daily. By now, I think I may need a disclaimer. You may ask why9. To answer, I would reply that disclaimers are a good way to distance oneself from their work. I have in the past10 expressed views and beliefs I personally don’t ascribe to because I believe that they are not being given their fair share of time. Even though playing the Devil’s Advocate hasn’t come back to haunt me yet, I know that people tend to believe what you write is what you believe11, so I want to lessen the probability of misunderstandings. Additionally, my views often change over time. Since I’m not sure if I’ll believe everything I write in the future, it seems smart to say that my thoughts may change now rather than later.
Now that I’ve explained, why I’m writing my disclaimer, I should probably write it. I could copy my disclaimer from my inspiration’s blog site: “The opinions stated herein are those of me and do not necessarily reflect those of employer, the Rebelsky family, organizations, or even most other sentient beings.”12 However, much of that disclaimer isn’t relevant to me, and it doesn’t quite express the situation I find myself in. So, this is my version: “The views and opinions expressed on this site (and linked sites) do not necessarily reflect those of the author’s current, past, or future employers, the Rebelsky family, rebelsky.com, or even the author. Readers are advised to read at their own discretion.”
I’ve been writing this blog for a week now, so I feel like I should probably write a disclaimer sooner rather than later. You may ask why. To that I would reply with the following:
Disclaimers are a good way to distance oneself from their work. Although I work for no-one, it seems important to me that I distance myself from some of my words. Those of you who know me may know that I say things I don’t believe because I believe that they are supportable enough views that they deserve their time. Even though that hasn’t come back to bite me yet, I know that people tend to believe what you write is what you believe13, so I want to be aware. Additionally, my views14 change over time. Since I’m not sure if I’ll believe everything I write in the future, it seems smart to say that my thoughts may change now rather than later.
Now comes the writing of the disclaimer. I could copy my disclaimer from my inspiration’s blog site: “The opinions stated herein are those of me and do not necessarily reflect those of employer, the Rebelsky family, organizations, or even most other sentient beings.”15 However, that feels intellectually dishonest. So, with some slight revisions: “The views and opinions expressed on this site (and linked sites) do not necessarily reflect those of the Rebelsky family, the domain, rebelsky.com, or even the author. Readers are advised to read at their own discretion.”
I’ve been writing this blog for a week now, so I feel like a disclaimer is probably a good thing to get out of the way. I could copy from my inspiration’s blog site: “The opinions stated herein are those of me and do not necessarily reflect those of employer, the Rebelsky family, organizations, or even most other sentient beings.”16 However, that feels intellectually dishonest. Let’s see, I could say: “The views and opinions expressed here do not necessarily reflect those of the Rebelsky family, GitHub, rebelsky.com, most sentient beings, or even the author. Any and all offense taken is deeply regretted.” That seems pretty good.
Why a disclaimer though? I feel like all of the cool writers use disclaimers as a way to distance those they work for from their works. Even though I work for no one right now, I still know that people tend to believe what you write is what you believe17. Since I’m not sure if I’ll believe everything I write in the future, it seems smart to get that idea out of the way quickly, as well as avoiding indemnifying my family.
and hopefully future posts↩
or have run out of time↩
no, this isn’t just a way to increase the word count↩
as nothing I’ve said seems too objectionable↩
I know this is unlikely, but it makes a convenient segue↩
and will likely in the future continue to have↩
rightly↩
taken from: SamR’s Assorted Musings and Rants: Front Door, Bolding mine↩
I know this is unlikely, but it makes a convenient segue↩
and will likely in the future continue to have↩
rightly↩
taken from: SamR’s Assorted Musings and Rants: Front Door, Bolding mine↩
rightly↩
like most people in the process of learning↩
taken from: SamR’s Assorted Musings and Rants: Front Door, Bolding mine↩
taken from: SamR’s Assorted Musings and Rants: Front Door↩
rightly↩
As many of you know, I am a large white man. There are many aspects of these two identities that are incredibly beneficial. What I didn’t really realize today, though, was how important that first identity is.
While getting ready to leave for a theatre show that we were both seeing1, I mentioned that I thought I might walk there, since I had time. It was around a 2.5 mile walk2, so I thought there might be an objection due to the length. However, the person I was talking to, who was also a white man, said he wouldn’t feel safe walking there alone.
Now, I’m not sure whether it’s that living in a census-defined “rural” area makes me unafraid and trusting of my fellow person3, or whether he grew up in a far different place, which led him to his comment. Nonetheless, it struck me that maybe the most important of my three identities is, in fact, large. It goes first when I describe myself4, and maybe it belongs there. Where before I thought it was just the white man portion that made me feel safe, I’m reevaluating now to believe that it’s a combination of all three characteristics that lets me feel safe in any situation I find myself in.
But, since the goal of my blog is to be happy and cheerful5, I’ll mention the walk. It was a beautiful walk across and then along the River Thames. I got there at sunset, so the river looked amazing. The show was fabulous, with amazing sounds and a flawless set. The acting was of the highest caliber, as was to be expected from its cast.
huge shoutout to my study abroad program for making it so available. It was an absolutely amazing show, Julie by Polly Stenham, after the Strindberg show Miss Julie↩
4 km for those of you who believe in a different set of arbitrary units↩
probably and not really, respectively↩
as you can read in the opening↩
partially in opposition to one of my inspirations↩
Those of you who know me likely also know my brothers1. This post seems like a great way to talk about how amazing they are, since I sometimes forget to do that enough.
My older brother is everything an older brother should be. He’s smarter, kinder, and more generous than me. He follows the rules, and is just all around the perfect older brother to have. Because of him, teachers assumed I was trustable, groups accepted me, and just generally his presence made my life better growing up.
Now that we’re older, he’s still amazing to have around. He’s incredibly knowledgable about a variety of topics that I’m beginning to find interesting. He, along with a mutual friend of ours2, share books that we enjoy reading, as well as share interesting short writings as we find them. When I need help with Excel, or really any software that a business person is likely to use, he’s there and willing to drop most things to help.
But, as I mentioned above, I have two brothers. The younger is really everything I could hope for in a younger brother. He is also smarter, more musical, and far more technically adept than me. For all of the softwares that aren’t common business ones, he either already knows them, or is willing and able to quickly learn them to hold my hand as I try to learn them3. He’s a brilliant musician, and I love listening to him perform4. He’s much wittier than me, but also much more sly about it.
Just as my older brother is incredibly knowledgable about topics I know nothing about and am interested in, my little brother is too5. He’s well versed in music theory, and helps me a lot when I need a sounding board. He also has shares my impulsiveness, but in a much more constructive way. For instance, right before I left, he decided that with the extra fabric he had6, he would make a shirt. He’d never made clothes before, didn’t have a pattern, and still did a passable job.
In the interest of full disclosure, my little7 brother is the reason for this post. I prefer writing my documents in LaTeX 8, and WordPress doesn’t really support that. So, I asked him to build me a website, since we own a domain for some unknown reason. He did, and assuming that I’m able to follow the (incredibly simple) instructions he gave me, my blog will be moving to j.rebelsky.com. Depending on how my ability to not break software goes, I may stop updating this site.
In summary, I have the best brothers anyone could ask for, and I’m grateful every day that they’re in my life.
despite the fact that many people are unable to tell them apart, they still claim to be distinct entities↩︎
who, despite the beliefs of some prospective students’ families, is not my brother↩︎
the ambiguity in the sentence above is because many times I’m not sure whether he knows how to do what I want when I ask, but he always gets there quickly enough↩︎
even though I have still procrastinated listening to his improvisations↩︎
they’re both also incredibly knowledgable about topics I know nothing about and care little about, topics I also know much about and care about, and topics I know much about and care little about↩︎
how he ended up with extra fabric is a different story↩︎
in my mind, even if reality says otherwise↩︎
because I’m pretentious like that↩︎
As I mentioned yesterday, I’m keeping a digital and analog journal of my day. This is inspired by a course I’m taking on London diaries, partially my own past experience, and partially a conversation I had with the professor of the course.
The course on diaries includes an interactive component. That is, in addition to reading London diaries, we will be crafting our own. Now, like many children of the 21st century, I love the idea of keeping everything journaled online. This way I can make notes on my phone as I walk, have them automatically update on my computer, where I can expand with more time. If I wake up in the middle of the night with an idea, I don’t need to wake up a roommate with a lamp. However, the course requires an analog diary, so I needs must also keep a handwritten journal.
This doesn’t mean that each journal will be totally the same. Conversely, they will not be totally different. I plan to keep both journals mostly in sync, and keep only specific things out of each. For instance, problems I might have with the professor I won’t be putting in the journal that will be graded. Conversely, experiences I don’t much care about that I write for a grade won’t be recorded digitally.
In speaking to the professor about the idea of digital data, the point of Beowulf was raised. However, as I think about it, I agree with the professor, for the opposite reason. My professor’s point was that the Beowulf manuscript survived because it was hand written, and if a similar digital file would exist, it needs constant maintenance to keep operable.
I, however, feel the opposite, at least with regards to a journal. When I write in my physical journal, there are no other copies of the information. If I don’t show it to others, no one may ever know what I’ve written. I can burn the journal and remove all traces of it. Not so with a digital record. Even if I delete this WordPress site, there are still the memories left in the minds of those who read it 1 and potential digital caches and metadata associated with it. My “private” journal is only synced through the internet and a company or three, so there are almost certainly digital records of it. So while I agree with my professor about the permanence of digital and analog writings, I don’t quite know if I agree with the logic, especially on the level of skill and importance that my writings will 2 lack.
I don’t tend to keep track of my daily movements for a variety of reasons. The biggest of these is that one day in Grinnell is rarely much different from a handful or more other days, and those that are I don’t always want to remember.
The second reason I don’t track myself is the time required. Writing takes time, and I’m usually doing or recovering from doing.
Finally, as far as I can tell, most of the time I’m the only one who really cares what zany adventures I’ve gotten up to. Obviously my professors care if I show up to class 1, my coaches care that I show up to practice, and my friends and family care that I show up at prearranged times. Other than that, though, I really doubt that anyone cares whether I studied for three hours in Noyce or in Bucksbaum.
None of these apply to my time abroad. With no frame of reference, every day in London feels very different. So far I have far more free time than I know what to do with 2. Finally, I’ve had at least a few people mention that they want to know what I’m doing while abroad.
So, for those of you keeping track at home, that was 224 words to explain why I’m writing, but not addressing the title of how 3. I’m keeping track of my life in a plethora of ways. Like in Grinnell, I send the minutiae of my life to friends via various instant messaging platforms. Unlike in Grinnell, I update different social media far more frequently, I hope not to the annoyance of my friends there. I’m writing this daily journal 4. Finally, I’m maintaining a hybrid journal. That is, I’m writing a journal that is partially digital and partially analog. I’ll talk about the nitty gritty of that later, but it’s been probably the source I use most to record my days.
As with most cities, London has its share of musicians performing on the street. Although I’ve only been here a few days and in a small portion of the city, I’ve noticed two things about the street music that I don’t like.
The first, and pettiest, of these is that I haven’t seen or heard any bagpipes. Maybe I’m just conditioned from growing up in Grinnell, where our local bagpipe troupe practices with some regularity, but it’s shocking to me that a small Iowa town is more bagpipe-centric than London.
Second, almost all of the musicians I’ve seen have been using amplifiers. It’s not that I’m an audio purist, who has a problem with the idea of amplifying music. My problem is mostly just the fact that it reduces the number of musicians who can play in an area. When musicians are playing acoustic instruments 1, the sound is easily overwhelmed if you’re more than a few score feet away. In places like New Orleans, there’s a different musician at almost every intersection, if not also one in the middle of the block. In London, however, the sounds are amplified, which means that the entirety of King’s Cross Station only seems to have room for one person.
With that said, I still love the fact that there are people who are making music near where I am. It’s great, and so far they’ve all been incredibly talented.
Edit 1 September: Today I saw bagpipers. It looks like there is a rotating group who stands between the underground station near Parliament and Parliament.
With the slight exception of bagpipes↩︎