Category: Uncategorized

The name of this blog was put up to a poll: New Blog for Deactivated Quora Users by Nick Nicholas on Assorted Polls

The people of Quora can name the blog whatever they want, so long as they choose one of the four obscure Hellenic names I’ve just made up for it.

The results were:

• Argologue: “List of the inactive”: 35%
• Apontologue: “List of the absent”: 31%
• Phygologue: “List of those who have run away”: 19%
• Ecdemologue: “List of those who are out of town”: 15%

The results did not astonish me. Ecdemologue is the oddest looking in English, with the <cd> cluster. Argologue looks the most familiar in English, because of Argo and Argon. (There’s two meanings of argos in Ancient Greek: “shining” and “idle, inert, slow”. Argo is the first one; Argon is the second one. And the icon of the blog is, of course, an Argon lamp illustrating the abbreviation of the element: Argon – Wikipedia.)

The other two choices were in between. Too many syllables in Apontologue, and I’m surprised it got as many votes as it did. Decidedly alien look to Phygologue, and kind of loaded meaning, so not surprised it got as few votes as it did.

Benjamin R. Drakenbourg is right: Australians have a lot invested in thinking they are egalitarian and not-British, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t class in Australia. The sneering at bogans that has happened over the last two decades is nothing if not class. So is the abundance of hipsters in the inner suburbs.

But Australians are in denial about class, and have an egalitarian ideal of the billionaire acting like a labourer, that is pretty entrenched. As someone once told me, the difference between Australians and the British is that lots of Australians are convinced that they are superior—but no Australians accept that they are inferior.

That aside, we exaggerate slight differences with the British, from our insider perspective, which are vanishingly small from an outside viewpoint (such as say Americans). Nick Nicholas’ answer to What are the myths about Australians?

Myth: That Australia is a classless society.

Fact: Only when compared to the British.

Myth: That Australians are an informal, relaxed people.

Fact: Only when compared to the British.

Myth: That Australians are an open, friendly society.

Fact: Only when compared to the British.

I’ve only been glancingly on French Quora, I admit. But so far, I have found Sihem Soibinet-Fekih to be prompt, and to be engaged. As I’m not really used to Quora staff being engaged on the site, I am seriously impressed by her.

I believe that everything that ever needed to be said about this has already been said by my friend Quora Quorason. Vote #1: Quora Quorason’s answer to How would you parody your own writing style on Quora?

This answer is meant to be supplemental to that. Only it isn’t, because I am enamoured of my own recherché grandiloquence.

• I hate Quora and everything about it, and anyone who ever says anything good about it, I shall have no intercourse with ever. For more information, see my blog Malleus Calamorum.
• The Greek for intercourse is συνουσία, “consubstantiality”, where οὐσία “substance” itself derives from the participle of the Ancient Greek copula. (Get it? Copula.) One may draw sundry sociocultural inferences from this. But alack, this is not the forum for such an answer.
• Having perused at least one Wikipedia article, I will now hold forth with great, if borrowed erudition on everything you didn’t need to know about Perso–Moldovan cultural contacts.

I can substantiate all of this by adequately lachrymose personal experience. As the great poet Farrokh Bulsara once put it,

I’m just a poor boy
from a poor family:
Scaramouche, Scaramouche
won’t you play the fandango.

I trust that we can all draw a lesson from this.

We already have. Where do you think motherfucking comes from?

Allusion to incest. For when fornication just won’t cut it any more.

This is an old finding. 150 years ago, damn could not appear in print unredacted.

The true and honest and equitable answer is the Magister’s: Michael Masiello’s answer to Is it veridical to state that esoteric verbosity culminates in communicative ennui? Vote #1 Michael Masiello. Vote early and vote often.

The petty and cavilling answer is mine. Others have gone part of the way there, but I’ll finish the task.

No, it is not veridical to state that esoteric verbosity culminates in communicative ennui. Because those are not synonyms of “is it true to say that using obscure words ends up in people getting bored with how you talk”. Big words have nuance. Big words have subtlety. Big words are there for a reason. That’s why you’re supposed to use them sparingly.

• Veridical does not mean “true”. It means “truth-telling”. It refers to a commitment to reflecting the world accurately, it’s not something you can accidentally blurt out or stumble upon. And there’s a good reason the word is mostly used in psychology and philosophy, domains that are concerned with people’s commitment to truth.
• Esoteric does not just mean “obscure”, it means understood only by very few select people, who are initiated into knowledge. The Greek means “insider”. It’s not the kind of thing that any fool can pick up a dictionary and learn; it’s supposed to be secret, and there’s a reason its connotation is one of cults and guilds.
• Culminates refers to something that builds up gradually to a climax or achievement of some kind. You don’t culminate into a passive state, such as ennui. That’s your classic parturiunt montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. (Or anticlimax, if you prefer.)
• Ennui is not just boredom. It might be just boredom in French, but that’s not how the word is used in English. In English, it refers to the kind of existential, weary, discontented boredom that makes you give up on life itself. A misplaced hyperbolic reaction to being bored by someone’s big words.
• And communicative ennui does not sound like ennui about the communications you hear. It sounds like ennui about the communications you make. Like you’re questioning whether it’s worth continuing to live, as you’re stuck making inane smalltalk.
• Or belittling people’s vocabulary.

The only source of demographics on Quora there has been is the departed Laura Hale’s blog quora numbers, gathered manually and laboriously. For this question, via Facebook. See:

National breakdowns of by age participation on Quora by Laura Hale on quora numbers

75% of US users. 42% of Indian users.

An adolescent question like this deserves an adolescent poem as its answer. Here’s one I prepared earlier. As an adolescent, in fact.

Taktas jarojn tiuj, kiuj dankas
Dion – trance, kun vagstulta fido.
Trafas kraŝon tiuj, kiuj tranĉas
por si hastan vojon – kun venkrido.

Tanĝas homojn tiuj, kiuj talpas
mensizole, ĉar en si kontentas.
Transas homojn tiuj, kiuj drakas
homestrante, ĉar laŭ si potencas.

Taksas vivon tiuj, kiuj taskas,
 je pasumo de jaraĉoj dorme.
Miliardoj vojas kaj fiaskas,
sin-malŝpare, por malvivi morne.

Foja korpo pli ol ni meritas,
 ke pluvivu: tiun ni ŝtonumas,
kaj pluvivas mem ĝis preteritas.
Super niaj tomboj, tagoj lumas

sen ni. Tial traktas la drastantoj vivon,
kiel aviadonto aŭtobus-tarifon.

Love that jingle–jangle assonance. Happy to make an exit that way.

---

Oh, you want a translation? It’d kind of spoil it, because it is adolescent (and I wouldn’t be as unforgiving now), but OK:

Those who thank God measure out
their years in a trance, with vaguely dumb faith.
Those who cut themselves a hasty way
hit a crash, with a victorious laugh.

Those who mole away in mental isolation
are tangential to people, for they are content in themselves.
Those who are dragons commanding men
are beyond people, for they are powerful according to themselves.

Those who have a job to do value life
as a passing of miserable years in sleep.
Billions make their way and fail,
wasting themselves, to be extinguished mourningly.

The occasional body deserves to keep living
more than us. So we stone them,
and keep living ourselves until we are in the past tense.
Above our graves, days shine

without us. That’s why the drastic treat
life, like someone about to board a flight treats the bus ticket.

Never a trivial question from you, eh Michaelis?

Something I’ve actually being discussing at some length with Jennifer Edeburn, to whom I seem to have outsourced my superego. (You’ll have noticed I took a day off of that today, Jennifer?)

Nothing I would not have learned from engaging with humanity in general, if I got out more. But some lessons are always salutary, the more so if you learn them ten times running.

• People are wonderful. Randoms have unfathomable reserves of empathy, kindness, and respect. Which I have drawn on, and which I hope to have reciprocated.
• People are awful. Not just the discernible reprobates, the trolls and the bigots: that’s too easy, that’s too fertile a ground for “but I’m above that”. The smug, the judgemental, the unthinking, the bien-pensant. The cliquish, the reactive, the indignant. That get applauded for it.
• And that at times, that can include me. Not a pleasant learning, but a useful one. To be conscious of it is not enough, but it’s an advance anyway.
• People are complex. You can admire one facet of a person, and find another repulsive; or at least problematic. Which makes evaluating whether they are in or out with you difficult.
• People are duplicitous. Or rather, subtle. I hear reports that a lot of people have been unmasked by anonymity fails, under the new regime. I wouldn’t be chortling about it: who among us does not have things about them they’d rather not be broadcast?
• You, perhaps, Michaelis. But you are a nihilist, after all.
• Oh, and I also wouldn’t be chortling, because “upstanding citizens” too can be embarrassed by privacy fails. And they have further to fall.
• Large organisations are stupid and don’t care about you. However many buffets they lay out for you. A relatively easy thing to learn, and I’m astonished that a critical mass don’t seem to have.
• Large organisations have their own agenda, and that’s no more immoral than you having your own agenda. That takes a bit more getting your head around. As I said towards the end of my coming to terms with it: if Quora’s Moloch, then there’s no use getting angry at a furnace. That’s what furnaces do.
• (I’ve taken to calling it a Wall since. Less… incendiary.)
• Communication is possible with people of good will, who let go of their dogmas. That’s a useful lesson that comes with BNBR self-policing.
• Communication is impossible with people who do not share your postulates about the basics. I can talk politics with communists; I cannot talk politics with libertarians. I can talk theology with the undogmatic, I cannot with the self-righteous. There are limits to BNBR.
• Privilege is real, and so is hegemony, and so is complacency. There’s a reason no revolution ever worked on BNBR.
• There is a place for a salon of the thoughtful and the critical, whether Mountain View intended it thus or not. If that’s an abdication from the pressing urgency on the streets, well, let me have it. If Rome is falling, there are worse things to do in its final days than recline on the couch and discuss pentameters.

Tough question, Habib le toubib: I don’t do heroes, I like my critical faculties about me, and I’ve been jaded for a while. And of course, anyone I’d choose would be morbidly obscure anyway.

…

OK, challenge accepted.

• Hubert Pernot. The underappreciated giant of Modern Greek historical linguistics. Not a polemicist, not a tub-thumper; he just got on with it, from a safe distance in Paris. His three volume monograph on the dialect of Chios is an accidental history of all of Modern Greek. His neogrammarian probity in his grammar of Tsakonian is a work for the ages.

• Giovanni Gabrieli. Author of the music of the spheres, the Canzone e Sonate. Thanks, man. It’s music that makes you proud to be human.

• Stephanos Sahlikis. If you don’t count Jalal ad-Din Rumi, the first poet to rhyme in Greek, rhyming about whores and gambling and doing time, in the 14th century.
• Woah! His poems just got published in Panagiotiakis’ long-awaited posthumous critical edition, in 2015! Why didn’t I know about this?! I’m going to have to have words to the maintainer of the Early Modern Greek blog. Thanks Habib, for helping me discover that!

• Helen Waddell. I’ve already written about my teen crush on her: Nick Nicholas’ answer to If you could take one historical person from history as a lover/date, who would it be and why? “If I had to pick, I’d pick someone with poetry in their blood, an awkward smile, and gentle donnish erudition. Someone like Helen Waddell.”

• Gough Whitlam. Flawed, self-important, chaotic politician (was this guy even Australian?), who built up my country’s pride and dignity, and made my country worthy of the name. Yes, there’s a reason we won’t see his like again. We still owe him.

• Charilaos Trikoupis. Taciturn, reserved, orderly politician (was this guy even Greek?), who presided over reforms and infrastructure and a bankruptcy, and made my country worthy of the name. Yes, there’s a reason we won’t see his like again. We still owe him.

• Theodore Metochites. For writing the most obscurantist overgilded Greek ever in his pseudo-Homeric poems, which posed the greatest challenge I faced in all my time at the Thesaurus Linguae Graecae. For decreeing that the Ancients left us Mediaeval Greeks nothing to say—in a foreword to 120 essays. For commissioning the marvels of Chora Church, while he was the moneybags-in-charge of the Empire. And for retreating into his own church with dignity, with his books and his sorrow, after he lost everything.