Word Nerds
June 5, 2008 6:07 PM Subscribe
Silence! It's the opposite of speech. But that doesn't mean it communicates nothing.
A show about the English language, And Sometimes Y was broadcast on CBC Radio One through December of 2007. Live internet broadcast for: Radio One (news and features) | Radio 2 (music)
A show about the English language, And Sometimes Y was broadcast on CBC Radio One through December of 2007. Live internet broadcast for: Radio One (news and features) | Radio 2 (music)
Silence is golden, and it serves many a purpose in conversation. Yes, obviously this is true. I really didn't need journalists and social scientists to figure this one out.
BTW: Does this mean the RIAA can sue us on behalf of John Cage if we don't make any noise for 4 minutes and 33 seconds?
posted by Avelwood at 6:36 PM on June 5, 2008
BTW: Does this mean the RIAA can sue us on behalf of John Cage if we don't make any noise for 4 minutes and 33 seconds?
posted by Avelwood at 6:36 PM on June 5, 2008
Perhaps I'm just becoming a carmudgen before my time, but I've always worried that my contemporaries are too focused on noise, sound, music, etc. Most of my friends almost never have a moment of silence in their lifes, if they aren't on their cell phones, or TV isn't on they have an MP3 player blasting music at them. I like phones, I like TV, and I like music, but it seems a bit much to have something yammering away at you all the time.
I suppose its a matter of personal taste, but I've always wondered how they're able to think if they've always got something blasting noise into their ears.
posted by sotonohito at 6:47 PM on June 5, 2008
I suppose its a matter of personal taste, but I've always wondered how they're able to think if they've always got something blasting noise into their ears.
posted by sotonohito at 6:47 PM on June 5, 2008
soto--
I know just what you mean.
I think everyone finally finds it when the moment is right for them.
But thank the stars my hearing is slowly going so in many years this won't even be an issue.
posted by Dizzy at 6:51 PM on June 5, 2008
I know just what you mean.
I think everyone finally finds it when the moment is right for them.
But thank the stars my hearing is slowly going so in many years this won't even be an issue.
posted by Dizzy at 6:51 PM on June 5, 2008
Quit your yapping.
Apparently, a recent film called Noise, starring Tim Robbins, is all baout one New Yorker's quest for some peace and quiet. I've not seen it, but it's an interesting premise. I used to joke with friends when I visited the countryside that I needed someone to set off a car alarm in order to fall asleep.
posted by ornate insect at 6:56 PM on June 5, 2008
Apparently, a recent film called Noise, starring Tim Robbins, is all baout one New Yorker's quest for some peace and quiet. I've not seen it, but it's an interesting premise. I used to joke with friends when I visited the countryside that I needed someone to set off a car alarm in order to fall asleep.
posted by ornate insect at 6:56 PM on June 5, 2008
BTW: Does this mean the RIAA can sue us on behalf of John Cage if we don't make any noise for 4 minutes and 33 seconds?
Here you go.
posted by naju at 8:08 PM on June 5, 2008
Here you go.
posted by naju at 8:08 PM on June 5, 2008
The Silent Party mentioned in the show sounds like it would be a neat idea. Has anyone ever tried anything like that?
posted by troubles at 8:16 PM on June 5, 2008
posted by troubles at 8:16 PM on June 5, 2008
The Silent Party mentioned in the show sounds like it would be a neat idea. Has anyone ever tried anything like that?
No, but I once spent a month at a writing retreat where all the writers had rooms in a lodge for sleeping, and then small individual sheds for writing. Because each writer couldn't have full-time solitude, the rule at the retreat was no talking before 5 p.m. It was interesting, feeling free of the need to chit-chat if you happened to run into someone else in the kitchen when you were re-filling your tea or getting a snack or whatever.
I'm also a Quaker, and our worship is grounded in silence. We're a bit smug about it sometimes, as expert practitioners of the silent arts in a noisy world.
posted by not that girl at 8:39 PM on June 5, 2008
No, but I once spent a month at a writing retreat where all the writers had rooms in a lodge for sleeping, and then small individual sheds for writing. Because each writer couldn't have full-time solitude, the rule at the retreat was no talking before 5 p.m. It was interesting, feeling free of the need to chit-chat if you happened to run into someone else in the kitchen when you were re-filling your tea or getting a snack or whatever.
I'm also a Quaker, and our worship is grounded in silence. We're a bit smug about it sometimes, as expert practitioners of the silent arts in a noisy world.
posted by not that girl at 8:39 PM on June 5, 2008
not that girl: I grew up in, what sounds like, an opposite environment. Would you mind describing what silent worship is like? I'm trying to imagine what that is, and can't.
posted by sluglicker at 10:04 PM on June 5, 2008
posted by sluglicker at 10:04 PM on June 5, 2008
4'33" is, in my opinion, one of the paragons of trolling. John Cage is to be commended.
posted by TheOnlyCoolTim at 10:39 PM on June 5, 2008
posted by TheOnlyCoolTim at 10:39 PM on June 5, 2008
Mindless noise debases the worth of communication. Filling the conversational void with inconsequential emptiness such as you know, I mean, and of course uh... is like printing excess currency to pay off the attention deficit.
posted by Araucaria at 10:53 PM on June 5, 2008 [1 favorite]
posted by Araucaria at 10:53 PM on June 5, 2008 [1 favorite]
sluglicker: The Quaker meetings I've participated in (three years of Quaker middle school and some short stints at doing the Sunday thing) have all been just that -- silent. Everyone comes in quietly, sits down, and more or less meditates. Not everyone involved necessarily calls it that, of course, and the practice varies from person to person and moment to moment.
Some close their eyes; some look around; some fidget; some visibly bow their heads in what might or might not be prayer. (In that respect, at least, it's a lot like other services in the Judeo-Christian tradition that I've attended.) The next ten or fifteen minutes -- it's hard to estimate, sometimes -- are often spent in silence as people arrive and get centered.
At some point after that, someone is moved to speak (more rarely, to sing or recite poetry), and does so. When I've mentioned this in the past, people often imagine that this produces chaos, but I've never known that to happen. The signal to noise ratio is pretty good, I think, because of the underlying theory that whatever one says in Meeting must be inspired by the immediate experience of the divine, however quiet. (That, and there are a lot of people listening.)
What people say runs the gamut, but tends to be fairly terse and otherwise simple. (The fact that prepared statements are generally discouraged helps with this.) Sometimes what's said has a topical core; births, deaths, news of old friends, local and world events, and such often inspire (and sometimes comprise) discourse. Though I've noticed a definite bent towards drawing a more general observation afterwards, if something quick like "my grandfather died" is all one feels moved to (or able to) say, who can argue? Sometimes there's no obvious reason at all to speak, but when the need and courage to break a silence that deep arises, what comes out ought to be heard. So the theory goes.
I think of myself as a pretty staunch atheist, but I've found attending the odd Meeting to be a pretty powerful experience. The role and the weight of silence therein is pretty key to that.
posted by lumensimus at 11:57 PM on June 5, 2008 [1 favorite]
Some close their eyes; some look around; some fidget; some visibly bow their heads in what might or might not be prayer. (In that respect, at least, it's a lot like other services in the Judeo-Christian tradition that I've attended.) The next ten or fifteen minutes -- it's hard to estimate, sometimes -- are often spent in silence as people arrive and get centered.
At some point after that, someone is moved to speak (more rarely, to sing or recite poetry), and does so. When I've mentioned this in the past, people often imagine that this produces chaos, but I've never known that to happen. The signal to noise ratio is pretty good, I think, because of the underlying theory that whatever one says in Meeting must be inspired by the immediate experience of the divine, however quiet. (That, and there are a lot of people listening.)
What people say runs the gamut, but tends to be fairly terse and otherwise simple. (The fact that prepared statements are generally discouraged helps with this.) Sometimes what's said has a topical core; births, deaths, news of old friends, local and world events, and such often inspire (and sometimes comprise) discourse. Though I've noticed a definite bent towards drawing a more general observation afterwards, if something quick like "my grandfather died" is all one feels moved to (or able to) say, who can argue? Sometimes there's no obvious reason at all to speak, but when the need and courage to break a silence that deep arises, what comes out ought to be heard. So the theory goes.
I think of myself as a pretty staunch atheist, but I've found attending the odd Meeting to be a pretty powerful experience. The role and the weight of silence therein is pretty key to that.
posted by lumensimus at 11:57 PM on June 5, 2008 [1 favorite]
I think of myself as a pretty staunch atheist, but I've found attending the odd Meeting to be a pretty powerful experience.
The word "sacred" or "sacral" comes from the Latin sacrum, which is related, as wiki notes, "to sanctum, set apart. It was generally conceived spatially, as referring to the area around a temple." In other words, religion did not originate as metaphysical speculation, explanandum or abstraction, but rather as topographical and psychodynamic orientation: a way of re-centering oneself, taking stock, pausing to re-find one's way. But because we are now historically far removed from this original source, we tend to assume religion is merely about exoteric systems of "belief." We assume it is merely a primitive and protoscientific form of explanation, or the outward and dusty institutional apparatus in which it presents itself. We forget that belief is secondary to religion, but grace is primary. A contemplative ritual as Quakers practice is a re-introduction to sacral being, and as such is far more important than scriptural exegesis, theological disputation, or even belief itself. Those things are just the fine-print, and they tend to obscure the heart of the matter. Because Quakers refuse to let language obscure this desire humans share for some inner sanctity, it cannot get to easily sidetracked from the ineffable matter at hand, and hews close to the primal source of the sacral.
posted by ornate insect at 12:55 AM on June 6, 2008 [6 favorites]
The word "sacred" or "sacral" comes from the Latin sacrum, which is related, as wiki notes, "to sanctum, set apart. It was generally conceived spatially, as referring to the area around a temple." In other words, religion did not originate as metaphysical speculation, explanandum or abstraction, but rather as topographical and psychodynamic orientation: a way of re-centering oneself, taking stock, pausing to re-find one's way. But because we are now historically far removed from this original source, we tend to assume religion is merely about exoteric systems of "belief." We assume it is merely a primitive and protoscientific form of explanation, or the outward and dusty institutional apparatus in which it presents itself. We forget that belief is secondary to religion, but grace is primary. A contemplative ritual as Quakers practice is a re-introduction to sacral being, and as such is far more important than scriptural exegesis, theological disputation, or even belief itself. Those things are just the fine-print, and they tend to obscure the heart of the matter. Because Quakers refuse to let language obscure this desire humans share for some inner sanctity, it cannot get to easily sidetracked from the ineffable matter at hand, and hews close to the primal source of the sacral.
posted by ornate insect at 12:55 AM on June 6, 2008 [6 favorites]
BTW: Does this mean the RIAA can sue us on behalf of John Cage if we don't make any noise for 4 minutes and 33 seconds?
Here you go.
Oh Fuck. I give up.
posted by Avelwood at 1:37 AM on June 6, 2008
Here you go.
Oh Fuck. I give up.
posted by Avelwood at 1:37 AM on June 6, 2008
posted by ZenMasterThis at 5:13 AM on June 6, 2008
This Is Just Not To Say
I have eaten
the words
that were on
your tongue
and which
you were probably
saving
for yammering
Forgive me
they were obnoxious
so many
and so loud
posted by ersatz at 5:59 AM on June 6, 2008 [2 favorites]
I have eaten
the words
that were on
your tongue
and which
you were probably
saving
for yammering
Forgive me
they were obnoxious
so many
and so loud
posted by ersatz at 5:59 AM on June 6, 2008 [2 favorites]
<derail>
Silence by Edgar Lee Masters
Les Yeux des Pauvres[self-link] by Charles Baudelaire
</derail>
posted by dilettanti at 8:08 AM on June 6, 2008
Silence by Edgar Lee Masters
Les Yeux des Pauvres[self-link] by Charles Baudelaire
</derail>
posted by dilettanti at 8:08 AM on June 6, 2008
The word "sacred" or "sacral" comes from the Latin sacrum, which is related, as wiki notes, "to sanctum, set apart. It was generally conceived spatially, as referring to the area around a temple." In other words, religion did not originate as metaphysical speculation, explanandum or abstraction, but rather as topographical and psychodynamic orientation: a way of re-centering oneself, taking stock, pausing to re-find one's way. But because we are now historically far removed from this original source, we tend to assume religion is merely about exoteric systems of "belief."
OK, in the first place, the sac- root (of which sanc- is a nasalized variant) comes from PIE *sak- 'sanctify'; the whole "conceived spatially" thing is somebody's interpretation that may or may not be accurate for Roman religion ("as wiki notes" is not especially convincing) but has nothing to do with the history of the root. In the second place, you cannot use historical linguistics to prove anything about the history of religion; "religion did not originate as metaphysical speculation, explanandum or abstraction, but rather as topographical and psychodynamic orientation" may be a useful metaphor for how you prefer to think of religion, but historically it is nonsense. And in the third place, none of this has any bearing on current meaning and practice. To say "because we are now historically far removed from this original source, we tend to assume religion is merely about exoteric systems of 'belief'" seems to imply that we should stick to older ideas about religion because they're older, but that's just silly. Religion, like all forms of human culture, is constantly being reinterpreted and reinvented, and that's a damn good thing unless you fancy blood sacrifice.
And now, back to your regularly scheduled silence!
posted by languagehat at 9:37 AM on June 6, 2008 [1 favorite]
OK, in the first place, the sac- root (of which sanc- is a nasalized variant) comes from PIE *sak- 'sanctify'; the whole "conceived spatially" thing is somebody's interpretation that may or may not be accurate for Roman religion ("as wiki notes" is not especially convincing) but has nothing to do with the history of the root. In the second place, you cannot use historical linguistics to prove anything about the history of religion; "religion did not originate as metaphysical speculation, explanandum or abstraction, but rather as topographical and psychodynamic orientation" may be a useful metaphor for how you prefer to think of religion, but historically it is nonsense. And in the third place, none of this has any bearing on current meaning and practice. To say "because we are now historically far removed from this original source, we tend to assume religion is merely about exoteric systems of 'belief'" seems to imply that we should stick to older ideas about religion because they're older, but that's just silly. Religion, like all forms of human culture, is constantly being reinterpreted and reinvented, and that's a damn good thing unless you fancy blood sacrifice.
And now, back to your regularly scheduled silence!
posted by languagehat at 9:37 AM on June 6, 2008 [1 favorite]
Silence is also the opposite of fart. Except for those really sneaky ones.
posted by Astro Zombie at 10:31 AM on June 6, 2008
posted by Astro Zombie at 10:31 AM on June 6, 2008
languagehat--
Religion was particular before it was general: it set up a specific place, thing, tree, temple and gve it some special significance. Cassirer talks a lot about how word magic and the act of naming are intertwined in the "primitve" imagination, and I think it's an important and complicated insight.
The word sanctum refers to
1. A sacred or holy place. 2. A private place where one is free from intrusion.
Perhaps I did not express it well, but I was trying to point out that the impulse to sacralize an object, place, practice, etc, is not, strictly speaking, metaphysical or belief-centered: it's very much tied to the phenomenolgical detail of everyday life. Before religion can construct a cosmology it must imbue certain things with sacral and talismanic importance. In retrospect, this appears metaphysical or epistemological, but as it occurs it is far less abstract. This is the point I was driving at, and not a critique of religion as a whole. "Religion" comes after the will-to-sacralize a given experience, event, object, place, seasonal turn, etc.
I'm not implying we stick to "older" ideas, but rather that we reflect on how religious traditions often obscure the impulse to simply find a locus of peace, solace, and inwardness: hence, my point that the "silent practice" of Quakerism could appeal to an athiest. Strictly speaking, this practice is not about belief-per-se: it's about something more fundamental.
posted by ornate insect at 11:06 AM on June 6, 2008
Religion was particular before it was general: it set up a specific place, thing, tree, temple and gve it some special significance. Cassirer talks a lot about how word magic and the act of naming are intertwined in the "primitve" imagination, and I think it's an important and complicated insight.
The word sanctum refers to
1. A sacred or holy place. 2. A private place where one is free from intrusion.
Perhaps I did not express it well, but I was trying to point out that the impulse to sacralize an object, place, practice, etc, is not, strictly speaking, metaphysical or belief-centered: it's very much tied to the phenomenolgical detail of everyday life. Before religion can construct a cosmology it must imbue certain things with sacral and talismanic importance. In retrospect, this appears metaphysical or epistemological, but as it occurs it is far less abstract. This is the point I was driving at, and not a critique of religion as a whole. "Religion" comes after the will-to-sacralize a given experience, event, object, place, seasonal turn, etc.
I'm not implying we stick to "older" ideas, but rather that we reflect on how religious traditions often obscure the impulse to simply find a locus of peace, solace, and inwardness: hence, my point that the "silent practice" of Quakerism could appeal to an athiest. Strictly speaking, this practice is not about belief-per-se: it's about something more fundamental.
posted by ornate insect at 11:06 AM on June 6, 2008
Religion was particular before it was general: it set up a specific place, thing, tree, temple and gve it some special significance.
But this is a modern interpretation, not a fact. You don't know, and Cassirer didn't know, how religion originated. Unlike evolution, it is not a testable hypothesis.
I was trying to point out that the impulse to sacralize an object, place, practice, etc, is not, strictly speaking, metaphysical or belief-centered: it's very much tied to the phenomenolgical detail of everyday life.
This is true for some but not for others. I sympathize with your take on religion, but it's a mistake to try to generalize it.
posted by languagehat at 11:22 AM on June 6, 2008
But this is a modern interpretation, not a fact. You don't know, and Cassirer didn't know, how religion originated. Unlike evolution, it is not a testable hypothesis.
I was trying to point out that the impulse to sacralize an object, place, practice, etc, is not, strictly speaking, metaphysical or belief-centered: it's very much tied to the phenomenolgical detail of everyday life.
This is true for some but not for others. I sympathize with your take on religion, but it's a mistake to try to generalize it.
posted by languagehat at 11:22 AM on June 6, 2008
I sympathize with your take on religion, but it's a mistake to try to generalize it.
It's also a mistake to think one can pin it down with mathematical precision. Some degree of considered generalization is unaviodable.
There are lots of different ways to interpret religion and mythopoetic imagination (see Gauchet, Eliade, Campbell, Doniger, Kolakowski, Malinowski, Levi-Strauss, Ricoeur, Bataille, John Hick, Dawkins, Midgley, James, Blumenberg, Kitaro Nishida, Keiji Nishitani, Kierkegaard, Radhakrishnan, Jean-Luc Marion, René Guénon, Nāgārjuna, Schopenhauer, Ann Belford Ulanov, Elaine Pagels, Nietzsche, etc), and I'm not claiming to have exhausted them here.
I also wrote my other post at 4am (I live on the East Coast), and wrote it to get the germ of an idea out before I forgot it: not to have the final word on the matter. I freely admit I was practicing a degree of associative interpreation that I might not apply as freely if I had been writing a dissertation.
posted by ornate insect at 11:41 AM on June 6, 2008
It's also a mistake to think one can pin it down with mathematical precision. Some degree of considered generalization is unaviodable.
There are lots of different ways to interpret religion and mythopoetic imagination (see Gauchet, Eliade, Campbell, Doniger, Kolakowski, Malinowski, Levi-Strauss, Ricoeur, Bataille, John Hick, Dawkins, Midgley, James, Blumenberg, Kitaro Nishida, Keiji Nishitani, Kierkegaard, Radhakrishnan, Jean-Luc Marion, René Guénon, Nāgārjuna, Schopenhauer, Ann Belford Ulanov, Elaine Pagels, Nietzsche, etc), and I'm not claiming to have exhausted them here.
I also wrote my other post at 4am (I live on the East Coast), and wrote it to get the germ of an idea out before I forgot it: not to have the final word on the matter. I freely admit I was practicing a degree of associative interpreation that I might not apply as freely if I had been writing a dissertation.
posted by ornate insect at 11:41 AM on June 6, 2008
Don't apologize, ornate.
Only makes him more insufferable.
posted by Dizzy at 11:54 AM on June 6, 2008
Only makes him more insufferable.
posted by Dizzy at 11:54 AM on June 6, 2008
Some degree of considered generalization is unavoidable... There are lots of different ways to interpret religion and mythopoetic imagination
Oh, sure—it's not the generalization and interpretations as such I'm objecting to, but the application to history as a literal fact. I love interpretations.
I freely admit I was practicing a degree of associative interpreation that I might not apply as freely if I had been writing a dissertation.
You fool! Every comment on MeFi is a dissertation, and we are all your dissertation committee! (Meatbomb is the dissertation advisor, in case you were wondering.)
Don't apologize, ornate.
Only makes him more insufferable.
Aw, c'mon, diz. He wasn't apologizing, and I'm always insufferable.
posted by languagehat at 3:19 PM on June 6, 2008
Oh, sure—it's not the generalization and interpretations as such I'm objecting to, but the application to history as a literal fact. I love interpretations.
I freely admit I was practicing a degree of associative interpreation that I might not apply as freely if I had been writing a dissertation.
You fool! Every comment on MeFi is a dissertation, and we are all your dissertation committee! (Meatbomb is the dissertation advisor, in case you were wondering.)
Don't apologize, ornate.
Only makes him more insufferable.
Aw, c'mon, diz. He wasn't apologizing, and I'm always insufferable.
posted by languagehat at 3:19 PM on June 6, 2008
(Meatbomb is the dissertation advisor, in case you were wondering.)
Sweet, I'm going to have a Ph.D. in Theology as well.
posted by TheOnlyCoolTim at 3:46 PM on June 6, 2008
Sweet, I'm going to have a Ph.D. in Theology as well.
posted by TheOnlyCoolTim at 3:46 PM on June 6, 2008
languagehat: in the longstanding debate between the natural sciences (the Naturwissenschaften) and the human sciences (the Geisteswissenschaften), the question of interpretation (hermeneutics) as a kind of endless historical mediation (that in some sense IS culture), must be kept at the forefront. There is no table of elements to consult when discussing the religious impulse in human beings. It may be that there is no universal religious impulse, but if so that is certainly belied by the surprising fact that all culture seems to have set aside something like a concept of sacredness.
Durkheim, Jung, James and Freud might disagree about these commonalities and the feature of what constitutes "sacredness" in culture, but let's put that aside for now.
Unfortunately, I sense in your remarks a misleading and seemingly intractable dichotomy between "anything goes" interpretation and "clear, unasailable" literal fact.
I will save that matter for another time, however, and at the risk of taking us further afield, turn to a passage I came across recently in the book The Alchemical Body: Siddha Traditions in Medieval India by David Gordon White (page 123, pb edition):
"...Marcel Detienne argues [in L'invention de la mythologie, 1981] that "raw myth," if such a thing ever existed, would have to take the form of lists of catalogues of names, lists from which generally oral native exegesis would have susequently generated geneologies...and which written interpreation would later have transformed...into mythology. The myth, fragile and evanescent, is metamorphosed into something else as soon as its recounted...for all intents and purposes, the myth does not exist..."
Either we can say something about the impulses of the human--not for transcendence or understanding per se--but for psychological well-being, or we can say nothing. I believe everything we say is already, by its very nature, and especially dealing with a topic as strange as the value of silence and its relation to the sacred in religious thinking, in some key sense already misleading. As soon as we open our mouth we are already misled, if only slightly. Nevertheles, we do not speak in pure logic or in pure gnomic tone-poems.
Thus, Wittgenstein's apophatic suggestion that what is beyond us is ultimately ineffable, bears repeating: Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent
posted by ornate insect at 4:42 PM on June 6, 2008 [1 favorite]
Durkheim, Jung, James and Freud might disagree about these commonalities and the feature of what constitutes "sacredness" in culture, but let's put that aside for now.
Unfortunately, I sense in your remarks a misleading and seemingly intractable dichotomy between "anything goes" interpretation and "clear, unasailable" literal fact.
I will save that matter for another time, however, and at the risk of taking us further afield, turn to a passage I came across recently in the book The Alchemical Body: Siddha Traditions in Medieval India by David Gordon White (page 123, pb edition):
"...Marcel Detienne argues [in L'invention de la mythologie, 1981] that "raw myth," if such a thing ever existed, would have to take the form of lists of catalogues of names, lists from which generally oral native exegesis would have susequently generated geneologies...and which written interpreation would later have transformed...into mythology. The myth, fragile and evanescent, is metamorphosed into something else as soon as its recounted...for all intents and purposes, the myth does not exist..."
Either we can say something about the impulses of the human--not for transcendence or understanding per se--but for psychological well-being, or we can say nothing. I believe everything we say is already, by its very nature, and especially dealing with a topic as strange as the value of silence and its relation to the sacred in religious thinking, in some key sense already misleading. As soon as we open our mouth we are already misled, if only slightly. Nevertheles, we do not speak in pure logic or in pure gnomic tone-poems.
Thus, Wittgenstein's apophatic suggestion that what is beyond us is ultimately ineffable, bears repeating: Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent
posted by ornate insect at 4:42 PM on June 6, 2008 [1 favorite]
Or the first line of Tao Te Ching.
posted by ersatz at 5:41 PM on June 6, 2008 [1 favorite]
posted by ersatz at 5:41 PM on June 6, 2008 [1 favorite]
I love poking you, ornate insect, because I always learn so much from your rebuttals!
posted by languagehat at 5:53 PM on June 6, 2008
posted by languagehat at 5:53 PM on June 6, 2008
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posted by TheOnlyCoolTim at 6:25 PM on June 5, 2008 [2 favorites]