Forwarding on from Elke Weiss:
Hi, folks.
I need a break. I love my amazing friends here, but I definitely need to concentrate on career building, finishing my novel, moving, my new board position, networking and mental health. And of course, leave the house and see friends. I hope to be back in August. Contact me via email if you need me. I will miss you all, and I wish you only joy and happiness and success.
Song of Armouris – Wikipedia. A heroic Greek ballad, 200 verses, likely dating from the 11th century, though the manuscript is from the 15th.
I got into an altercation in comments to Bruce Graham’s answer to What language was used to connect Europe and Byzantium?, an answer approving of the description of Byzantine vernacular Greek as “the childish and degenerate Greek spoken by the poor”.
Pieter van der Wilt commented:
20.5.2017 Since you seem to appreciate the “elegant writing” of R.West, how would you call the “childish and degenerate Greek” she mentions ? Still elegant ?
The OP replied:
Street talk. Perhaps it had some charm. Perhaps you can give me some examples of Byzantium street Greek demonstrating how it outshines Homer.
Πίτερ βαν ντερ Βιλτ, πατριώτη μου, τούτο το μεταφράζω για σένα.
Ελληνική Μεσαιωνική Ποίηση – Άσμα του Αρμούρη
(Already translated here: Ἄσμα τοῦ Ἀρμούρη / The Song of Armouris – Translation & Commentary, and by David Ricks.)
A different sky today; a different day.
Today the noble lads wish to go riding.
But sir Armoures’ son, he will not ride.
And then the lad, he goes up to his mother.
“O Mother, may my siblings give you joy;
[…]
and see my father; mother, let me ride.”
And then the mother gives him this reply:
“You’re young, you’re underage; you should not ride.
Yet, my good son, if go to ride you must,
your father’s lance is hanging up the stairs,
that which your father seized in Babylon.
It’s gilded top to bottom, decked in pearls.
And if you bend it once, and bend it twice,
and if you bend it thrice, then you can ride.”
And then the lad, then young Armoures’ son,
went crying up the stairs, came laughing down.
He shook to shake it, he was seized to seize it.
He bound it to his arm; he shook; he swerved.
And then the lad, he goes up to his mother.
“O mother, mother, shall I break this for you?”
And then the mother called the nobles out:
“Come look, you nobles, saddle the black horse up.
Saddle and bridle him, his father’s horse.
It’s been twelve years that none have watered him,
it’s been twelve years that none have ridden him.
He eats his horseshoe nails, bound to a stake.”
The lords came out and saddled the black horse up.
He stretched his arms, and found himself a rider.
He’d travelled thirty miles, ere he said “hail!”
He’d travelled sixty five, ere they replied.
He saw and rode the Euphrates up and down,
he rode it up and down, and found no ford.
A Saracen there stood, and laughed at him:
“The Saracens have steeds that chase the winds,
that catch the dove and partridge on the wing,
and reach the hare that they pursue uphill,
and anything they see, they race and seize.
Yet even those steeds can’t cross the Euphrates.
And you would cross it now with this poor nag?”
On hearing this, the youth was seized with rage.
He spurred the black horse, so that he could cross.
Mighty the Euphrates flowed, with murky waters,
with waves down in the depths, and overflowing.
He spurred the black horse, struck him, and went forth,
he shrieked as shrill a voice as he could muster:
“Thank you, kind God, thank you a thousandfold.
You gave me bravery; you take it from me.”
An angel’s voice then came down from the heavens:
“Now stick your lance into the palm tree’s root,
and stick your clothes in front, onto your pommel.
Then spur your black horse, make him go across.”
He spurred his black horse, and he made him cross.
Before the youth had let his clothes dry off,
he spurred his black horse, to the Saracen.
He punched his face, his jaw he dislocated.
“Tell me, fool Saracen, where are your armies?”
And then the Saracen said to Armoures:
“My God, the brave will ask such stupid questions.
First do they punch, and then they ask their questions.
By Sweet Sir Sun, and by his Sweet Dame Mother,
last night a hundred thousand of us met,
all good and choice, and all with bucklers green.
They’re mighty men, who will not fear a thousand,
ten thousand, or however many come.”
He spurred his black horse, and went up a hill.
He saw an army, thought it can’t be counted.
And then the lad considered, and he said:
“If I attack them while unarmed, they’ll boast
that I had caught them unawares, unarmed.”
He shrieked as shrill a voice as he could muster:
“Arm yourselves, Saracens, you filthy curs,
put on your breastplates quickly […]
and do not disbelieve Armoures came,
Armoures’ son, the meet and valiant man.”
By Sweet Sir Sun, and by his Sweet Dame Mother,
as many stars are in heaven, leaves on trees,
so many soldiers jumped onto their saddles,
Saddled and bridled, leapt and rode their steeds.
And then the youth, he made his own arrangements.
He drew a fine sword from a silver scabbard,
he flung it to the sky, and caught it falling.
He spurred his black horse, and he drew close by.
“If I forget you, strike me from my kin.”
And then he started warfare, close and brave,
he slashed along the sides; the middle wearied.
By Sweet Sir Sun, and by his Sweet Dame Mother,
the whole day long, he slashed the troops upwater,
the whole night long, he slashed the troops downwater.
He struck and struck at them, he left not one.
The youth got off his horse, to feel the breeze.
One filthy cur, one of the Saracens
lay there in ambush and he took his steed,
lay there in ambush and he took his club.
By Sweet Sir Sun, and by his Sweet Dame Mother,
he chased him forty miles on foot with kneeplates,
another forty miles on foot with breastplate,
and at the gates of Syria he caught him,
took out his sword, and cuts his hand away.
“Now you go, Saracen, and bear the news.”
His father sat outside the prison gate.
He recognised his son’s own steed and club;
he saw no rider, and his soul would perish.
He sighed a mighty sigh, it shook the tower.
And the emir called forth his noblemen.
“Go see, you noblemen, wherefore he sighs.
And if his meal is bad, let him have mine.
And if his wine is bad, let him drink mine.
And if his cell stinks, let them perfume it,
and if his chains weigh heavy, cut them lighter.”
And then Armoures told the noblemen:
“Nor is my meal bad, that I should have his,
nor is my wine bad, that I should drink his,
nor do my chains weigh heavy, to cut lighter.
I recognised my son’s own steed and club;
I see no rider, and my soul would perish.”
Then the emir replied unto Armoures:
“Stay, dear Armoures, stay a little while.
I’ll have the trumpets sound, the mighty bugles,
to gather Babylon and Cappadocia.
And where your darling son is […]
they’ll bring him to me, hands bound side and back.
Wait, dear Armoures, wait a little while.”
He had the trumpets sound, the mighty bugles,
to gather Babylon and Cappadocia.
And no one gathered save the one-armed man.
Then the emir said to the one-armed man:
“Tell me, fool Saracen, where are my armies?”
And then the Saracen told the emir:
“Wait, O my master, wait a little while.
Let light come to my eyes, breath to my soul,
let blood flow back to my remaining arm,
and then I’ll tell you where your armies are.
But truly, nobles, I am speaking idly:
last night a hundred thousand of us met,
all good and choice, and all with bucklers green.
all mighty men, who will not fear a thousand,
ten thousand, or however many come.
A lad appeared over a savage mountain.
He shrieked as shrill a voice as he could muster:
“Arm yourselves, Saracens, take breastplates, curs,
and do not disbelieve Armoures came,
Armoures’ son, the meet and valiant man.”
By Sweet Sir Sun, and by his Sweet Dame Mother,
as many stars are in heaven, leaves on trees,
so many soldiers jumped onto their saddles,
Saddled and bridled, leapt and rode their steeds.
And then the youth, he made his own arrangements.
He drew a fine sword from a silver scabbard,
he flung it to the sky, and caught it falling.
He spurred his black horse, and he drew close by.
“If I forget you, strike me from my kin.”
He slashed along the sides; the middle wearied.
By Sweet Sir Sun, and by his Sweet Dame Mother,
the whole day long, he slashed our troops upwater,
the whole night long, he slashed our troops downwater.
He struck and struck at us, he left not one.
The youth got off his horse, to feel the breeze.
And good and prudent, I set ambush for him,
I lay in ambush there and took his steed.
By Sweet Sir Sun, and by his Sweet Dame Mother,
he chased me forty miles on foot with kneeplates,
another forty miles on foot with breastplate.
Here at the gates of Syria he caught me,
took out his sword, and cut my hand away.
“Now you go, Saracen, and bear the news.”
Then the emir replied unto Armoures:
“Are these the fine deeds of your son, Armoures?”
And then Armoures [the emir?] wrote a pretty letter,
and sent it forth by bird, by pretty swallow:
“Tell the cur’s son, the child of lawlessness:
show mercy to the Saracens you meet,
else you’ll have none when you fall in my hands.”
And then the young lad wrote a pretty letter,
and sent it forth by bird, by pretty swallow:
“Tell my sweet father, tell my Lord and master,
while I still see the houses double bolted,
while I still see my mother dressed in black,
while I still see my siblings dressed in black,
I’ll drink the blood of Saracens I meet.
I’ll fall on Syria if they make me angry:
I’ll fill with heads the alleyways of Syria,
I’ll fill with blood the dried out creeks of Syria.”
And the emir grew fearful, hearing this.
And the emir said to his noblemen:
“Go, go, you nobles, set Armoures free,
go take him to the bath, to bathe and change,
at morning bring him here, to dine with me.”
The nobles went and set Armoures free,
they took his chains off and his manacles,
they took him to the bath, to bathe and change,
they brought him to the emir, to dine with him.
Then the emir replied unto Armoures:
“Go, dear Armoures, go back to your homeland.
And train your son: I’ll make him son-in-law,
neither my niece he’ll have, nor yet my cousin,
but my own daughter, dearer than my eyes.
And train your son […]
show mercy to the Saracens he meets,
and if he gains aught, let them share it out,
and be at peace with one another.”
Hieraŭ? Nu, hieraŭ estis dimanĉo, do ripoztago. Kaj mi pli-malpli ripozis, laŭ mia kutimiĝinta maniero.
Mi iris kun la edzino por matenmanĝo ĉe franca dolĉejo, kie ni kutimas dum la semajnofino. Mi tie legis du el la tri gazetoj de la urbo, kaj plendis kiel kutime pri la faŝismo de tiu kiun posedas Rupert Murdoch. Mia dekstrema edzino, kiel kutime, min malatentis. Ni poste iris por taja masaĝo kune, ĉar ni maljuniĝas, kaj la ostoj de ni ambaŭ plendas. La mia pli plaĉis al mi ol la ŝia al ŝi. Ni iris por meztaga manĝo ĉe komerca centro (tre bona nigiri), kaj diskutis afable nian geedzecon.
Mi min retrovis hejme je ĉirkaŭ la tria ptm, kaj faris unu–du taskojn: mi promenigis la hundon, kaj poste prenis la aŭton por lavo. Dum mi atendis, mi verkis du respondojn ĉe Kvora. Mi revenis hejmen, manĝis kokon kun rizo, kaj poste okupiĝis pri du informadikaj taskoj de upwork.com. Estas surprize, kiel malfacile estas mezuri per programado la spezon de energio fare de grafika komputilblato, aparte se ĝi estas AMD-a kaj ne NVIDIA-a. La televido montradis la “realecan” kantkonkurson La Voĉo, kie Boy George kaj Seal vetkonkursas pri siaj egooj. Mi enlitiĝis frue, ĉar labortago morgaŭ.
I’ve been asked to translate, and so have others. So:
Yesterday? Well, yesterday was a Sunday, so it was a day of rest. And I rested more or less, in the custom that I have become accustomed to.
I went with my wife for breakfast to a French patisserie, where we usually go on weekends. I read there two of the three city newspapers, and complained as usual about the fascism of the one Rupert Murdoch owns. My right-wing wife, as usual, ignored me. We then went for a Thai massage together, because we’re getting old, and both our bones are complaining. I liked mine better than she liked hers. We went to have lunch at a shopping mall (excellent nigiri), and discussed our marriage affably.
I ended up at home around 3 pm, and did a couple of chores: I walked the dog, and then took the car to be washed. While I waited, I wrote two Quora answers. I went home, ate chicken and rice, and then worked on two programming tasks from Upwork. It’s surprising how hard it is to measure programmatically the energy expenditure of a graphics chip, especially if it’s AMD and not NVIDIA. The TV had the reality singing competition The Voice on, where Boy George and Seal were competing their egos. I went to bed early, because it’s a workday tomorrow.
Posting this here on behalf of Kendra Vogel.
Hello, just here to tell a story of my short-lived ban from Quora. I suspect I’ve been a victim of targeted answer and account reporting – the malicious act of a user reporting all content of a certain user they dislike to get them banned. Sometimes they make multiple accounts and use them to mass report to get the quick effect of a ban. I don’t see another way this could have happened the way it did.
I’m not writing you to complain or to feel justice of any sort, but rather to spread awareness of what can happen when someone goes the extra mile to sabotage other users.
I was in the process of merging some questions earlier today (05.20.17) and was suddenly locked out of my account with a message stating my account has been banned. Sure enough, I check my email and “Your account has been banned because it has been linked to suspicious and/or malicious activity that violated Quora’s policies and guidelines.”
Thankfully my ban was lifted a few minutes later after it was brought to the attention of moderation. I logged on to find over 350 notifications – one stating that my account was banned, one stating my ban was lifted, and the other 350-some giving me notification that every single one of my answers was collapsed for “Violating a policy on Quora”.
I suspect this malicious reporting was done by a spammer, but that’s just speculation at this point. I report a lot of spam answers and delete answer wikis that are obviously spam. Some spammers get really angry with me for deleting their answer wiki spam (I recently had a user make multiple accounts very similar to my name and spam using those accounts when their original account got banned for spamming).
I’m glad moderation was able to rectify the situation so quickly. I was also edit blocked on February 14th for “Repeated policy violations” with no recent warnings nor any violations that would have warranted being edit blocked, but that was removed shortly after being implemented after being brought to the attention of moderation.
It’s frightening to realize, but malicious answer and user reporting is a real thing. I’m glad moderation does their best to stay on top of these situations when they do happen. They are currently working on uncollapsing my mistakenly collapsed answers.
Side note: why are we given “violating a policy on Quora” as the reason for answers being collapsed? That doesn’t seem helpful in the slightest.
Will you take a “Yes… and No”? 🙂
The Cladistics of biological species was inspired by the cladistics of languages; the cladistics of languages, in turn, was inspired by the cladistics of classical manuscripts. All three fields have similarities. In all three fields, the classical tree model of divergence is an oversimplification; in fact, in all three, the simplification is surprisingly similar (notions of contamination and hybridisation).
The question of “which X is older” is a confused question in all three fields. The real question behind it—whether the askers realise it or not—is: which specimen, of those whose history is being analysed, preserves the most similarities to the archetype of the range. So the question is not, meaningfully: Is French or Romanian older (they are both spoken right now); but which of French or Romanian is closest to Latin, their common ancestor. Just as the question is not, meaningfully: Is the Elephant older than the Lion (they are both alive right now); but which of the Elephant or the Lion is closer to the Synapsid, their common ancestor.
So in all three cases, the question “which one is older” is misplaced, in a way that the question “which one is more archaic” is not. The three fields have some differences in the objects they study, which means the question of “which one is more archaic”, in turn, is interpreted differently. But I think a more important reason for that difference in interpretation is the three fields belong to different discourses.
Which language is older?
Language is a rather complex system in its evolution, and it is very difficult if not intractable to capture a metric for all linguistic change from an ancestor, across all facets of language. (I have posted elsewhere of a paper doing so for Cantonese and Mandarin phonology from Middle Chinese; phonology is of course the most straightforward field of language to track, and there aren’t many language pairs where so comprehensive a comparison could be made.) Because of the ongoing complexity of language as a system, we tend to assume that simplification in one aspect of language is offset by complexity in another, so that any metrics of change across language would be a wash anyway.
The question of which language is older is contaminated, in any case, by value judgements that linguists find annoying: notions that a more archaic language is purer, more virtuous, more deserving of study, more entitled to its ancestral lands. Because we are comparing contemporary language with contemporary language, because no language has remained unchanged, and because language is separate from ethnicity, territorial continuity, and tribalist virtue, the notion of “oldest” is deeply misleading.
Which species is older?
I’m not great in biology, but from what I know, things are the same over there, minus the value judgements. People aren’t particularly invested in knowing that the Monotreme or the Elephant is “older” as a species than the Lion, because the value judgements aren’t there, and people recognise the limits of archaism for what they are. Unlike linguistics (and any biologist fancies Chomsky has had in 1960 or 2010), biology now has a much more straightforward metric of genetic distance, through DNA mutations: it’s a metric that has caused some upheaval in biological taxonomy. So the question of which species is closer to the archetype can in fact be answered with a number.
And it’s not that useful a number. Even when extended to human lineages. One might argue, especially when extended to human lineages.
Which manuscript is older?
The study of manuscripts, which invented cladistics, is an interesting outlier. Classical Philology definitely is interested in the value judgement of which manuscript preserves the most archaic features, because it is using cladistics to approximate the original language of Homer or Aristophanes, via mediaeval copies. Especially since whatever mutations the scribes introduced in the classical texts are regarded as noise to be gotten rid of.
It’s quite different in Mediaeval Philology, by the way, when the original author was not necessarily that much better a writer than the scribes, and when the scribes did not feel as compelled to copy them verbatim—so that the mutations are no longer clearly noise. Mediaeval Philologists, in fact, aren’t anywhere near as concerned to reconstruct an original text out of the scribes’ handiwork, because they recognise it likely isn’t feasible or worth it.
Unlike linguistics and biology, the specimens being compared in philology are chronologically different: we don’t compare Yiddish to Old German, or pterodactyls to pigeons, but we do compare 11th century and 16th century manuscripts. So there are in fact older and newer manuscripts. And in Classical Philology, the question of which manuscript is more archaic is of core significance. And yet even there, philologists recognised that this does not mean you ignore all but one manuscript.
You certainly do not assume that the chronologically oldest manuscript is the most archaic one: change is random, intervals of copying are random, and fidelity of copying is random: a chronologically older manuscript can contain more errors in transmission than a newer one. Hence the dictum recentiores non deteriores—just because it’s newer doesn’t mean it’s worse. Moreover, again because all manuscripts can contain errors, philologists will not assume that the more archaic manuscripts (as determined by reconstructing their family tree) will preserve the original reading in every instance; and Classical Philologists preserve the right to make a judgement call (selectio) of which reading is the authentic one in different places.
In fact, it’s Mediaeval Philologists, not Classical Philologists, who care more about which specific manuscript is archaic. Because they’re not trying to reconstruct a family tree any more, and make a value judgement on authenticity passage by passage, they tend to just pick one manuscript that looks the least stupid and the most plausibly archaic overall, and publish that: the codex optimus.
It is very elegant, but it has solved the challenge of writing Greek cursively, in ways that will be unfamiliar to Greeks. Of course, these days Greeks are unfamiliar with cursive itself. But in particular:
It depends on how you want to use your handwriting. If it’s for your own purposes, keep doing what you’re doing. If you want to be understandable by others, cursive these days is something of a risk, especially with non Greeks (but do get confirmation from non-Greeks on that). If you want to fit into the historical tradition of cursive, you are well on the way, but will need to think about a few letters, to make sure they look both distinct and Greek.
This is the aorist imperative active, 2nd person singular, of γιγνώσκω ‘to know’
Alas, γιγνώσκω ‘to know’ is one of the many irregular verbs of Greek. The particular irregularity here is that while its present tense is thematic (a normal -ω verb), it forms its aorist stem γνω- according to the older, athematic paradigm (represented by verbs whose present ends in -μι). So this is an archaic aorist imperative ending, where “normal” verbs have -ε instead.
Smyth’s Grammar, Herbert Weir Smyth, A Greek Grammar for Colleges, goes into the history of these forms—and you need to, for cases like this.
466. ENDINGS OF THE IMPERATIVE
1. Active.
a. 2 Sing.—λῦε, λίπε, τίθει (for τίθε-ε) have not lost –θι. –θι is found in 2 aor. pass. φάνη-θι; in στῆ-θι and ἕστα-θι; in some 2 aorists, like γνῶ-θι, τλῆ-θι, πῖ-θι, which are μι forms though they have presents of the ω form (687). Also in ἴσ-θι be or know, ἴθι go, φάθι or φαθί say. λύθητι is for λυθηθι by 125 b.
466 a. D. –θι is not rare in Hom., pres. δίδωθι ῀δίδου, ὄρνυθι, aor. κλῦθι, perf. τέτλαθι. Aeolic has ἴστα_, φίλη. πίει, δέχοι, δίδοι (Pindar) are very rare.
Let’s take this slowly. The normal ending of the imperative 2nd sg is -ε. The older ending is -θι, and you still see it in places in Homer, where Classical Greek would use -ε instead. The old -θι is preserved in the 2nd aorist passive [EDIT: and the 1st aorist passive, where -θη-θι gets dissimilated to -θη-τι]; it is also preserved in the aorist imperative for “stand, know, go, say”, which are athematic verbs (present ἵστημι, [οἶδα], εἶμι, φημί). And it is also preserved in a few 2nd aorists which use old athematic forms “know, suffer, drink”.
Yes, these are irregularities. Sorry. Like Desmond James says, the useful thing to do here is not so much to memorise every verb, as to get familiar with the range of possible endings: just know that -θι is an archaic imperative ending, and you can work out the details later. To identify γνῶθι as an aorist, you rule out the present tense stem, because you know that is reduplicated: γί-γνω-σκε. So γνω- is, by default, the aorist instead.
Yes. I know. Sorry.
Forwarding on behalf of Andrew Wang:
Yes, it is Andrew Wang writing from the grave. I have recently
conducted a various group of experiments with Quora algorithms,
particularly the sockpuppet algorithm, now that I have no account to
fear losing (it’s deleted anyways, I can’t get unbanned).From the results of these experiments, I have devised a foolproof way
for one to make a sockpuppet on Quora and never be detected.
Surprisingly, it doesn’t involve IP addresses as a major part in
detection. I am electing to not post the full details.So what is the point of this post? Well, it’s just to illustrate how
vulnerable Quora is, and how little Quora is doing. If I can break
down its algorithms (and the supposedly “improved” sockpuppet
detection) quickly and determine all the loopholes within a week at
maximum time, it is likely that other users can too. This includes the
“Indian reporting groups” and the like, who will utilise the loopholes
to start anew with a great purge.As for Sophie Dockx’s post, I can confirm it is completely true with
regards to the mass reporting and subsequent bans. Then, Quora does
not overturn these bans because they find something else banworthy in
them. It’s kind of similar to the exclusionary rule in American law.
The broad clause of BNBR does not help either. Anything can be filed
under “harassment.” I drafted a pretty solid appeal to my ban
regarding this matter, solid from a legal standpoint, but Quora is no
court and I decided that fighting it out in the emails with a
generally unresponsive moderation would not be an efficient investment
of my time.That’s all I have to say.
Yes, Modern Greek has the noun ρόχαλο or ροχάλα.
Etymologically, the word ultimately derives from the Ancient verb ῥέγχω ‘to snore; to snort’. In fact, the corresponding verb in Modern Greek, ροχαλίζω, only means ‘snore’ and not ‘hawk and spit’. ρόχαλο, ροχάλα are a back-formation from ροχαλίζω, just like donate in English is a back-formation from donation.
Ροχάλα in Greek is also used figuratively, to refer to an expression of contempt; it’s an elaboration of “to spit at someone’. So for example:
Τατσόπουλος για Ντεπαρντιέ-Πούτιν: Ροχάλα στα μούτρα της παγκόσμιας κοινότητας
Ο συγγραφέας και βουλευτής του ΣΥΡΙΖΑ αναφέρεται στη «ροχάλα» των Ντεπαρντιέ και Πούτιν στο περί δικαίου αίσθημα με αφορμή την απόφαση του δεύτερου να δώσει ρωσικό διαβατήριο στον σταρ.
Tatsopoulos on Depardieu–Putin: A hoick in the face of the world community.
The author and SYRIZA MP refers to Depardieu and Putin’s hoick at people’s sense of justice, because of the latter’s decision to grant a Russian passport to the star.
Or, more literally,
ΒΙΝΤΕΟ-Παπαρήγα: Θα εξισώσουμε τη ροχάλα με τον φόνο; | www.enikos.gr – Πολιτική
Η πρόεδρος της ΚΟ του ΚΚΕ παράλληλα διαφώνησε κατηγορηματικά με την «θεωρία των δύο άκρων». Αναφέρθηκε στην δήλωση του υπουργού Δικαιοσύνης Χ. Αθανασίου ότι «γιαούρτι και φόνος είναι βία» και σχολίασε: «θα εξισώσουμε το γιαούρτι ή τη ροχάλα με τον φόνο ενός Αφγανού επειδή είναι Αφγανός; Ή με την προμελετημένη δολοφονία του Παύλου Φύσσα;».
The leader of the Greek Communist Party’s Parliamentary Group disagreed strongly with equating the two extremes. She referred to Justice Minister Ch. Athanasiou’s statement that “yoghurt and murder are both violence” [yoghurt = throwing yoghurt at someone, equivalent to “rotten tomatoes”], by saying “Are we to equate yoghurt or hoicking with the murder of an Afghan for being Afghan? Or the premeditated murder of Pavlos Fyssas?”
The references in the sports pages online do seem to refer to literal hawking and spitting at each other during soccer altercations.
Linguists and lay people answer this question differently, but that’s because they have different focuses on what language competence means.
A linguist thinks of language as a rule system—a grammar, and a lexicon. As far as a linguist is concerned, the grammar is the common property of the entire language community: if you are a native speaker of the language, then by definition you know all the rules of the language.
A linguist knows that the vocabulary of a language is open-ended, and no one can know all of it; but they also know that vocabulary varies by register, and that to be competent in the lexicon of the language is to use the appropriate words for the appropriate register. If people don’t look at you funny when you speak in a given social context, then you have all the vocabulary you need.
So to a linguist, because of the way they think about language, all native speakers command the language equally well.
The reason a lay person does not hold that view is that lay people introduce value judgements in how they think about linguistic registers (because they use language in a social context), and they prioritise some registers over others as worth commanding. In particular, lay people are concerned about how well people command the prestigious variants and dialects of a language.
Those variants and dialects are not native to all speakers of the language at large, and many speakers have to learn them explicitly, as “non-native” users. That’s why it is meaningful to say that some people know them better than others.
Lay people also appreciate good command of style. They appreciate adept rhetoric and subtle usage of words. These are skills which some people will exhibit more talent or training in than others.
Linguistics does have the tools with which to understand the display of that skill. But linguistics has been reluctant to prioritise this as an aspect of linguistic competence. Mostly, because the evaluation of these rhetorical skills is culture-bound, and subjective, and communicative competence is less so. (Although not as much less so as they prefer to think: culture certainly plays a role in communicative competence too.)
The evaluation of how skillful your rhetoric is is the kind of evaluation that linguists are more comfortable leaving to literature studies.