Taomeow

Maurice Druon, The Accursed Kings historical novels -- read them all as a teenager. For a while they made me an expert in medieval French history. I remember little by now, but I did remember the story of Jacques de Molay and was under the impression, for many years, that the curse concerned not just the Capetian dynasty but all of Europe. I don't remember why I interpreted it this way, but there you have it. The dynasty that went a long time before that one, the Merovingians, I find particularly interesting. In their heyday they established the largest kingdom in Western Europe after the fall of the Roman empire (if there really was such a thing as "the fall" -- to me it seems more like the refurbishing/recalibration). What I find special about them is that to this day, chronicles exist that officially derive their genealogy from a sea monster, a “quinotaur,” who had a relationship with the ancestress and produced Meroveh, the founder of the dynasty. This gave the dynasty sacral pre-Christian legitimacy—a ruler whose authority comes from the sea/chaos/the Other. (Just like Chinese emperors who derive their Mandate to rule from the dragon. Chinese dragons spend the first one thousand years as water creatures, then develop flight and take to the sky, the mountains, and the imperial court, as the case may be.)

Nice looking site! (talking presentation for now, might explore later.) My Grandmaster is also Chen Zhenglei. Which makes you my taiji brother. (Unless of course you mix "creativity" into the traditional style, in which case it makes you my taiji not-my-cup-of-qi. )

That Ermakov book was first published in 1995. The 90s were the lawless decade for the freshly collapsed USSR, and there's no end to horror stories I heard and read about those times... but they were unique in that respect, those times I mean. I did take that trip as a toddler, and I could swear I remember stuff -- except my mom told me stories about it later, so it's hard to tell now which ones I really remember and which ones came alive for me based on what she told me. If anything, according to my mom people on the train were afraid of me, because I looked like a much younger child but talked like a much older one -- they thought I was some bewitched infant, and some old ladies discreetly made the sign of the cross...

double

Interesting thread, thank you.

This thread has lake Bikal and lake Bakai but it is Baikal. Buryat-Mongolic languages origin. In Buryat it is pronounced closer to Baygal, the meaning is something like "rich lake" or "nature" -- I guess it was almost the same thing to the folks who named it.

Pushkin Boulevard, Donetsk. It used to be my most stomped stomping ground -- the road from home to school, then to the university, then to work. To two theaters (Drama and Opera/Ballet) and two movie theaters. Also a meeting place when planning stuff with friends (many benches to sit on, wooden and comfortable). A dating launchpad (the monument on the right is to Alexander Pushkin, referred to by the locals as "The Head" -- circa high school years, if undecided in advance where to go or if to go somewhere with this guy at all, agree to meet "under The Head," take it from there). And a walking strip with kids -- in a stroller first, and later on foot. Roughly 15-20 minutes to get anywhere at all from home. No car and screw public transportation. It was a lucky location in that respect.

Do you mean "where is this place" or "why am I not in this picture?"

Ack, I forgot. "There was a study" (got to use this ridiculous phrase that, without further examination, has 0% information validity value in all cases) which asserted that people who live together for a long time use each other as extended memory files, which benefits their individual memory. Perhaps people who post together for a long time also reap those anti-forgetfulness benefits? My favorite lines were, "This octopus, let's give him boots, send him to North Korea" ...and the way they rhymed it with "gonorrhea."

@Nungali This song was probably written by one of those former little catholic kids -- just the way they heard it. I think it's brilliant, phonetically and poetically.

Far on down the track there's a monkey on the train singing a sad song

Yes, that was explained under the story post factum, and redditors also explained that it happened because the newspaper laid off everybody who used to be responsible for these things not happening. (Not its first rodeo with sloppiness.)

Yes, it's a wise saying even thought it's fake Latin. A motto especially apt for a high school teacher to live by. There's a whole bunch of not quite real Latin proverbs I remember, some "almost" the real thing... like, Lingua Latina non est penis canina. And a friend, a med student at the time, once commented in all seriousness when we were planning a picnic in the woods and it started raining, Per aspera ad anus. This one has since become my favorite expression for when things one carefully plans and looks forward to go bust for whatever reason. It's exactly the same idea which Shakespeare expressed in his characteristic, much more flowery way: And enterprises of great pitch and moment With this regard their currents turn awry And lose the name of action.

I have some random Latin in my head from the university course, but the last time I was able to read the news in Latin was circa the Bello Gallico time -- which was current events around 50 BC.

Everybody knows paper newspapers are in decline -- but this article appeared last Friday in the San Diego Union Tribune both in its paper version delivered to subscribers and the digital online version. The article itself is in Latin (not the first, second, or 100th most spoken language around here), and its title seems to clash with the editors' attempt at classically educating the readers, if that's what they had in mind.

Very refreshing. In my then-atheistic old country we used to celebrate the New Year with the same gusto that was reserved for Christmas in the non-atheistic parts of the world. This is the picture of the last New Year's tree I saw, located within a short walking distance from where I lived. It wasn't the main one in the city, and therefore not the biggest -- but it was nice, and fully real. Our Grandfather Frost is not unlike Santa, but dresses somewhat differently (the hat especially) and doesn't go down the chimney, nor scrutinizes kids for who's naughty and who's nice, everybody gets a present. Adults didn't exchange presents, those were exclusively for kids -- whereas adults just threw and/or attended a party, usually the biggest party of the year.

I grew up with a song (by a brilliant singing poet) dedicated to musing about the reasons Captain Cook got eaten... though apparently modern revisions deny it. In any event, I am quite foggy on his route so I wouldn't be able to say if he be sailing north before, after, or instead of being eaten. That's a possibility. (Have you read 1421 or 1434 by any chance?)

Looks like it's not south west of anything at all... well, maybe something on that coast that is not as south west as this place. Some stray rock to the northeast of those rocks?.. However, this only concerns Western maps which, for reasons of the West not having had the yin-yang revelation and its relevance to us humans (who have our cold feet below, interfacing the earth, and our hot heads above, interfacing the Sun), counterintuitively place South (yang, the top, overhead stuff, where the Sun is in relation to everything on earth) on the bottom, and North (yin, the below, underfoot, where the sun don't shine) on top. Not so on taoist maps. In the canonical taoist Luoshu layout southwest is not far from where that South West Rocks is... perhaps a feng shui master was the one who named that place? In any event, I feel compelled to insert an interlude depicting a delightful case of a Western influence on a member of an Eastern culture. (They are not all delightful IMO, far from it... but this one is.)

Yes, geography is in the eye of the beholder. The most famous classical Chinese novel, Journey to the West, is about a trip to India. That journey was undertaken by a monk and his travel companions commissioned by the boddhisatva-turned-taoist-goddess, Quan Yin, for the specific purpose of bringing Western influences to China -- to wit, Buddhist sutras, toward a wide dissemination of Buddhism. (An immigrant who wanted to introduce to her new country of allegiance certain values from her native culture... makes sense to me. I've taught many Americans to make real borscht out of a similar sentiment.) The novel was published in the 16th century and depicted the events of the 7th, with a fantastic twist or two. Until modernity Buddhism was the single biggest Western influence on Chinese civilization. I have been less successful so far with real borscht and American cuisine.

Within, lantern warms the scholar's simple study -- books, brushes, inks, cats.

"Researchers" studying the venom of the Gila monster (Heloderma suspectum) discovered a peptide (small protein) called exendin-4. They noticed it had a striking similarity to a human gut hormone called GLP-1 (glucagon-like peptide-1). GLP-1 is released after eating and helps regulate blood sugar by stimulating insulin release, suppressing glucagon (which raises blood sugar), and promoting a feeling of fullness. Natural human GLP-1 breaks down in the body in just 2–3 minutes. A drug "scientists" derived from the similar peptide in Gila monster venom mimics human GLP-1 but is far more stable — it lasts in the body for a week. For the Gila monster it is likely an evolutionary adaptation: the venom helps immobilize prey by lowering its blood sugar. The adaptation and massive amplification of this mechanism for humans is the drug Ozempic. Evolution nervously smokes a joint in the corner of the room.

cmm