Ever notice how it's the little things in life that amuse us so much? More to the point, ever notice how it's the silly little idiocies in life that amuse us more than anything else? Well, this is not as much ''the little blog that could'' as it is ''the blog that enjoys going up the down escalator in your local mall.'' Will it have anything of real importance? No, probably not. But enjoy the ride never the less!

 
The Wives of Bath Don't Live Here Anymore...

I have grown rather concerned as of late about how difficult it's becoming to find a copy of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales in its original Old English text.

The "mainstream" bookstores I've been looking at have all sorts of wonderful new printings on old classics. I've found a copy of Dante's Inferno which has a comparative narrative with the original Italian (at least I think it's Italian) on one page, and a line-for-line English translation on the other page; and at the end of each Canto, there are lots of notes on just who Dante is talking to or about. I also have my eye on a new Beowulf which also has a comparative line-for-line translation of the original language and English. I've also found (but can only pine for until I get my tax refund) a 2-volume boxed set of The Tale of Genji with what looks to be a decent translation and pictures, all wrapped in a Franklin binding style.

This is all very good and all...but what of Chaucer? I've only just recently managed to find a Canterbury Tales with the Old English text, and that was by sheer stroke of luck I happened upon it while out walking. In all honesty, while it does make for a longer than usual read, you can figure out what everyone is saying by just reading the lines outloud. Most of the words are just Old English spellings, and the meanings of the words haven't changed over time even if the spelling has.

I can appreciate the Modern English version for those who'd like to read Chaucer, but get bogged down by the Old English. Even still, that's no excuse for bookstores to have only Modern English copies of Chaucer's work. Please, Sir, this poor bibliophile wants some more.

Oh, and just as a sidenote: it's also bloody hard to find a book that has all 3 parts of Dante's Divine Comedy (The Inferno, Purgatory, and Heaven) included in a single volume. They're all divided up into different $9.99 books these days. I'm seriously contemplating just seizing control of my library's copy of The Divine Comedy, which not only has all three parts, but also includes the hauntingly fantastic (and at times disturbing) lithographs depicting Dante's journey.

Today's Lesson: Second-Hand bookstores are your best friend more often than you'd think.


posted by Phillip at 7:13 AM

 
Boredom: The Mother Of Interior Decorating

Yesterday's horrid it's-not-supposed-to-be-winter-you-dolt! weather left me incredibly twitchy and restless, and more or less trapped at home. I had to do something to keep myself occupied for about 2-3 hours.

Some people in these situations watch TV. Some people read books. Some people cook.

I rearrange furniture.

My room now has a totally new look to it, with my bed moved to the far corner of the room by the window, my TV set and accompanying cabinet up against the wall where the head of my bed used to be, and my computer desk (read: a wooden, fold-up TV table) is now next to my closet. Plus I threw my 40-odd pencil boards back up on the wall, so there's much colour to be had. Overall, the rearranging has given me more floorspace, which the 4 Shih-tzu's seem to already be enjoying.

I'm hoping that by moving my desk away from the window, I'll be able to write more during the day. My eyeballs are oddly sensitive to light (not in the sense that by necessity I need to be nocturnal, but I do seem to have problems focusing when the light intensity is at a certain level), so the further from the window I am, the better off I hope to be.

Ah, boredom! How ironic that I should be thanking it for making me so productive.

posted by Phillip at 10:34 AM

 
Ah, Winter, you crotchety old fart...

It's snowing. Again.

It's horribly, unseasonably cold. Again.

It's beginning to look a lot like February. Again. (How unfortunate it is that it's currently April)

Some people laugh at me or give me odd looks when I give such things as weather phenomena a sort of anthropomorphic personality. In English that means I act as if the rainstorm, or the wind, or the blowing snow, is an actual intelligent force/entity, usually one that conspires against me. Yet I would put forward today's weather as proof that Old Man Winter is in fact a willful if not capricious entity whose sadistic delights in tormenting the general populace (namely, me) should be put to a stop right now.

Either that, or someone should track Winter down and pull the plug on his life-support system.

In any event, the last thing I want to see today is another bunch of skiiers going past whatever window I happen to be sitting in front of. So I've decided to smear my windows with chocolate icing. Not only will it block out the horrible sights of snowflakes being blown helter-skelter, but once spring does come, I can lick of the icing and have not only a treat but a delightful surprise (that being green grass and sunshine) as well! Sort of like a Kinder Surprise if it were built in a Klein Bottle.

Today's Lesson: Snow and Winter are two things better left at the ski slopes, at Christmas, and at the poles.


posted by Phillip at 12:13 PM

 
Sights Better Left Unseen

Nothing says "Whaaaa?" quite like sitting down with a friend in an empty cafeteria, located in the middle of a large university campus, and as you're chatting you suddenly see half a dozen skiers pass by the windows.

I can only guess that with all the snow we got hit with in Kitchener having frozen over, it's created the perfect gliding surface for cross-country skiers. Even still, it's a little odd and pretty damned creepy to see skiers going past cafeteria windows when you are nowhere near a ski hill, a chalet or ground that has any sort of real slope to it.

Though I admittedly would have panicked had I seen reindeer prancing about after the skiiers. Reindeer are, after all, the handy-dandy substitutes for any of the 4 horses of the Apocalypse.
posted by Phillip at 6:43 PM