Englishman ‘Matthew McConaughey’ speaks utter twaddle…

'Good Morning America' TV show, New York, America - 04 Nov 2014Rory Curtis, 25, (obviously left) suffered a serious brain injury and a broken pelvis after his van flipped over on the M42 near Tamworth, Staffordshire, and five vehicles ploughed into it in August 2012. He was placed in an induced coma for six days and when he finally came round he started chatting to nurses in fluent French even though he had not spoken the language in 12 years. The former semi-professional footballer for Stourport Swifts FC also said he did not recognise himself in the mirror as he was convinced he was Oscar-winning actor Matthew McConaughey (obviously right). Englishman wakes from coma speaking fluent French, and thinks he is Matthew McConaughey.

Oh my giddy Aunt – besides forgetting who I was, it would be my worst nightmare to wake up speaking fluent French! The nightmare would turn into a pure ‘terror-mare’ if I woke up speaking French, and thought I was Obama – the stuttering (pardon my ‘French’) clown!   Yours Aye.  It is good to see (and hear in fluent English) that Rory made a full recovery.

A ‘dud,’ dude, or a mate…

According to Stephen Emerson of the SCOTSMAN newspaper, the word ‘dude’ can trace its roots back to Ayrshire, Scotland in the 1800’s.2203368453

THE world ‘dude’ is so ingrained in the global consciousness that it transcends cultural boundaries with the same ease that it slopes off the tongue. Thanks to its widespread use in blockbuster film and TV shows its positive meaning – as a man or woman of character – is known, appreciated and understood around the world. In fact, it could be argued, referring to someone as a dude is up there with the handshake when it comes to universally understood interactions.

What comes as a surprise, however, is that its roots can be traced to the Scottish word ‘duddies’. ‘Duddies’ refer to ragged or tattered clothes and originated from Ayrshire. How the word evolved from a negative word to a positive is unclear but immigration and cultural changes will have played their part. It should be noted that ‘duds’, which also originated from the word ‘duddies’, is a popular term for clothes and no longer carries any negative connotations. The first use of the word ‘dude’ in print came in 1876 when Putnam’s Magazine used it to mock how a woman was dressed as a “dud” (pronounced ‘dude’ in a Scottish accent).  No introductions required below, from the film ‘The Big Lebowski95824143 From the 1880s onwards it was used by rural dwellers in the US to refer to their visiting smartly dressed city counterparts. Dude was also used to describe the 19th century American pioneers who helped the country expand westwards. In the 1960s, dude had been adopted by the surfing community where the phrase “dudette”, to refer to a woman, also appeared. By the 1970s it had slipped in mainstream American slang and with the help of Hollywood quickly spread around the globe. The “Day of the Dude” is held each year on March 6 to mark the anniversary of the 1998 release of cult film The Big Lebowski. Fans use the day to celebrate the philosophy of the movie’s protagonist, played by Jeff Bridges. Jeff “The Dude” Lebowski’s philosophy of easy living.

Personally I have never heard anyone referred to as a ‘dude’ or a ‘dudette,’ on this side of the pond, and that covers all areas of the United Kingdom. Though the term ‘Duds’ has always been used when referring to a pair of trousers. Our preference for the term ‘Mate’ comes from the original language as used by the Royal Navy going back to the 1400’s, when the word was taken from the rated rank of ‘First Mate.’ And there in a nutshell is how it is ‘mate.’      Yours Aye.

‘Selfie’, word of the year for 2013

And the slide down hill continues. Sadly, it doesn’t come as a great surprise to me that the Oxford Dictionaries have named ‘selfie’ as the word of the year. Its usage has apparently increased by 17,000 per cent over the past 12 months. For those who don’t really know what a selfie is, it’s defined as ‘a photograph that one has taken of oneself, typically with a smart phone or webcam, and uploaded to a social media website’. article-0-19860A3000000578-636_306x776

There are those amongst the delusional celebrity world who live by the ‘selfie’, and die through the posting of a selfie. Presumably this woman is advertising a new type of parking space for wedging a Harley motorcycle wheel into? Selfies – the craze that perfectly captures our shallow culture: Photos have reduced people to two-dimensional images judged entirely on the way they look, writes FRANCES WILSON

The world’s first known professional ‘selfie’ was taken in 1839 by photographer Robert Cornelius. (Robert, what did you start mate)? article-2509952-198304E600000578-402_306x451 The world’s first amateur and professional ‘selfies’? protester   Obviously ‘selfies’ come in all shapes and sizes. Some, such as family holiday ‘selfies’ will be priceless in years to come and provide hours of amusement. Then we have the Law Enforcement (gift) ‘selfie,’ which was a great idea at the time, until you receive  the 05:00 hrs ‘knock-knock’ at the door from the ‘boys in blue,’ who would wish to speak to you about some criminal damage you were party to. (Honest Guv, that was not me, I swear it was not me)! A possible nomination for a Darwin Award…                                 Yours Aye.

Twaddle, Tosh, & Gobbledygook

article-2489831-193DE73A00000578-455_634x440Burger van flippers are now known as mobile sustenance facilitator’s according to recruitment consultants who make up ridiculous job titles to make vacancies sound more enticing. What a load of twaddle, tosh, and gobbledygook… Call centre employees can now describe themselves as communication executives while window cleaners are now better known as ‘transparency ­enhancement facilitators’. 

Recruitment expert Mr. Chris Smith, CEO of MyJobMatcher.com commissioned a survey into the recruitment industry’s use of terminology, he has now called for clarity and plain English in the job market so applicants know exactly what job they are applying for.maxresdefaultHe added: “Some of the euphemisms used are downright ridiculous. Being called a ‘gastronomical hygiene engineer’ doesn’t stop the fact that you’ll be washing pots in a restaurant kitchen day after day.” Guinness-drinkers

An alcoholic beverages stock reduction team at work! It’s what your right arm’s for… 

Yours Aye.

Aptanagrams, eunonyms & portmanteau words

English is full of wordplay, witticisms, puns and quirks. On work related issues I am a stickler over the correct use of grammar, punctuation and spelling. When it comes to sending a text message I rarely, if ever, abbreviate a word.zz080910bede 490 (Roman Catholic education, was a painful experience for those that dared to adapt their writing style)

Being a natural born rebel of sorts, I often dabbled with the written word, trying to squeeze out a hidden meaning by abusing punctuation within a scribed sentence; however, six of the best (three hearty whacks of a bamboo cane on each hand) put paid to that… imagesNow, here I am, in my element, with not a bamboo cane in sight, nor a care in the world as I pixilate before you!

Crossword puzzlers will be familiar with anagrams, words that mean something else when the letters are rearranged, but what about aptanagrams, eunonyms and portmanteau words?

An aptanagram is one reason why a mother-in-law, is a woman Hitler          Yours Aye.article-2399493-1B665FB4000005DC-365_634x322

An American in Egypt

Starting a language is a little like taking a long hike through the forest. I am always quite enthusiastic at the start, it is only when I get to the grammar that I tend to bog down. The truth is grammar gives form to a language. I can usually map out the tenses in charts in my head and recount them. But it takes hard work to implant them. (The 201 Arabic Verb or French Verb series is quite good.)

I feel a kinship with any fellow language students. That all said, an Arabic student named Andrew Pochter, from Kenyon College, was recently killed in Egypt:

Andrew with his friend Junaid on the summit of Mount Toubkal.
Andrew with his Junaid Saiyed on Mount Toubkal.

Andrew D. Pochter, the young American teacher who was killed during protests in the Egyptian city of Alexandria on Friday night was a man whose mind was “filled with Arabic language and with the Arab world,” a teacher who taught him in Morocco told Al Arabiya English.

He was also a young man who “loved common folks, socializing and simple life” despite coming from an upper middle class family in the United States, said Hachimi Taoufik, a teacher who taught Arabic to Pochter in al-Jadida, Morocco.

“I believe he was the only student among his group who was the most social; he loved to go buy sardine sandwiches in Mellah, that cost 5 dirhams (60 cents), he loved to come home and cook with my wife and kids, he even liked to go grocery shopping to cook some of the meals he wanted to share with us,” Taoufik said.

Pochter, 21, studied in Morocco between June 2010 and June 2011 as part of the U.S. National Security Language Initiative for Youth (NSLI-Y) funded by the Department of State to study in Morocco, said Bouchra Kachoub, then resident director of NSLI-Y.

RIP Andrew. . . (Be sure to follow other Egyptian news: Muslims protesting in the millions against Islamism. This is Historic.)

Esquire Magazine, Inspire Magazine

As a linguist, I am aware how subtle language variations are. When I was learning Arabic, I told one of my teachers that she has a big heart. (Ainduki qelb kabir.) Except I mispronounced the word heart (qelb) and said dog (kelb) instead. It was an easy enough problem to rectify. Nothing like this:

A week-long hearing has focused on whether military and intelligence agents at the Guantanamo Bay U.S. Naval Base snooped into legal documents and attorney-client conversations that are supposed to be confidential. Defense attorneys said stringent restrictions on their communications had interfered with their attempts to prepare a defense.

The outgoing legal adviser for the Guantanamo detention operation, Navy Captain Thomas Welsh, testified that attorney-client mail was carefully screened to prevent the introduction of physical and informational contraband. He said the rules were tightened after a defense lawyer tried to send a copy of Inspire magazine to one of the defendants.

“I’m told that the translation is wrong,” interrupted defense attorney Cheryl Bormann, who was not the source of the intercepted magazine.

She said the interpreter translating Welsh’s testimony for the defendants had identified the contraband publication to them as Esquire. That magazine describes its focus as “beautiful women, men’s fashion, best music, drink recipes.”

Inspire magazine bills itself as the publication of Yemeni-based group al Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula and famously published an article titled, “Make a bomb in the kitchen of your mom.” The United States considers it a propaganda and recruitment vehicle for the group, and killed its editor in a drone strike in Yemen last year.

After the interpreter apologized, an attorney for Pakistani defendant Khalid Sheikh Mohammed, the alleged mastermind of the September 11 attacks, suggested that Inspire might contain relevant information.

Esquire, Inspire. Apples, oranges. . . 

سلحة العائلة التخلص من الفأس

I am somewhat fascinated by GeoArabic, National Geographic’s channel in Arabic. But this clip befuddled me. It is titled: سلحة العائلة التخلص من الفأس. Which translates as Arms Family is getting rid of, um, al kas? It turns out al kas means the ax. And I am sorry to say, GeoArabic managed to make these gun-collecting Americans look crazy. (Which may have been their intention.) Watch the video if you’ve an extra five minutes. (Enjoy the melodic Arabic!) Now tell me, does it not seem like they portraying the folks onscreen as nuts?

16th Jun 2013 the dark abyss.

Last week went past with a blur, mainly due to a heavy workload. Yesterday afternoon also passed with a blur; combined with stars, twittering cuckoo’s, and flashing lights… The result of picking up my car keys from the floor, whilst standing up straight under the edge corner of a solid oak wall cupboard. The agonised scream was released without dignity, as were the choice words that would make a Drill Instructor blush!

Though I have a thick head of hair, I intentionally keep it cropped short, which under the circumstances did not ease my pain. My jaw snapped shut with a hard clunk, and the crack from my neck echoed and reverberated like a rifle shot that rippled down my spine. Then in a true ‘lights out’ manner, I drooped slowly down onto my hands and knees and struggled to fight the black abyss that I have visited several times before, just as I felt the first trickle of blood drop from my forehead onto the kitchen floor “oh bugger, fight it, fight it“! Then it was the turn of the puppy and the old fellah, ‘Hanna and Joss’ came bounding over and in true Staffordshire Bull Terrier style, they rumbled and butted me to join in the fun. All the while I could hear a strange noise, almost like a voice calling from afar; was it an angel, or old nick summoning me?

When I eventually arose I did so slowly, and done exactly the same thing again, in exactly the same spot on my skull, though this time the rising lump seemed to cushion the blow, which was numb anyway from the first effort. I just stood with blurred teary eyes and stared at my phone that was lit up; the strange noise was coming from it? Then I realised it was my mate, we had been talking on loud speak as I waited for the kettle to boil. He being an ex bootneck thought it was hilarious, and I just knew our circle of friends would know all about it before the hour was up. To make matters worse, I sat with my cup of tea and a bag of frozen peas on my head (that gave me brain freeze) when I received a visitor, who witnessed the sight through the open kitchen window. Again, an ex matelot who turned up to return a previously loaned book, he offered the same amount of sympathy as my mate on the phone. Sunday 16th June 2013 was not one of my better days.article-2343035-1A5C86BA000005DC-777_306x423

But hey, at least I woke up this morning still speaking English! Even though I have a cartoon lump on my head, and the vertebrae of an ejected pilot! ‘It makes me so angry because I am Australian': Tasmanian woman wakes after car crash with a strong French accent

Yours Aye.

Beef, and the Concise Oxford ENGLISH Dictionary, all words and very tastey…

Question! What has the compound German Noun ‘Rindfleischetikettierungsüberwachungsaufgabenübertrag-ungsgesetz’, got in common with the following piece of Beef, as well as the Dictionary?


That’s a real mouthful! Germany scraps longest word Rindfleischetikettierungsüberwachungsaufgabenübertragungsgesetzarticle-2335214-185292E8000005DC-15_468x304

Answer: Absolutely nothing. With the possible exception that ‘Rindfleischetikettierungsüberwachungsaufgabenübertrag-ungsgesetz’ contains 63 letters, and this week it has ceased to exist within the German language, it has also been dropped from the German Dictionary. Which means that ‘Kraftfahrzeug-Haftpflichtversicherung‘ at 36 letters, now comes top as the longest registered word.

However, the Concise Oxford ENGLISH Dictionary contains a word, which contains a real tongue twister of 45 letters; PneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosisA crazy lot these linguists, like mad professors… madly teaching at Mad University, in Madsville, Madison. (With the exception of Madison, don’t bother looking for the others, they don’t exist)!

Yours Aye.

(Can I hear the ‘pitter patter’ of Kristen’s slippered feet as she saunters along the corridor to  admonish me)?

In Which I Bomb my Language Test

In life you get what you earn. And today, I did not pass my language test. Granted I am an officer and it is a skill no longer required for my job, I still felt, had I worked harder, I could have passed it. I’ve taken the DLPT sixteen times and only bombed, this time included, three times. I’ve had high scores, but not today. I am consoling myself with the fact that I almost passed after doing very little preparation.

I will say this, the Lance Corporal sitting next to me had his Tagalog up very loudly, but I won’t use that as an excuse. Nor will I complain that he kept shaking my chair. I had to bark at him once to settle down, he was super antsy.

I also had an interesting run-in with the test proctor which proved again how inaccurate the term racist could be. She was a young, Hispanic lady who was very gruff with me. I noticed she was far more pleasant with an Air Force Airman who was taking the Spanish test. He was Hispanic too. I chalked up her surliness to racism against a gringo. When I was going to get my scores, she said something about calling Marine Corps Command to get a waiver to take the test again in three months. (Rather than the traditional six month waiting period.) I reminded her I was in the Navy and suddenly she was quite a bit more relaxed and friendly. So her front had nothing to do with race and everything to do with service. (I was not in uniform, choosing instead to take the test in civvies.)

I’ll get it next time. I’ve hardly practiced my Arabic reading and going through those passages was rough. The reading section is three hours, as is the listening. I felt like I had been thrown under one of these when I was done. Two more languages left…

Revolution, the TV Series, in Arabic

The tv show Revolution
The tv show Revolution

The young whipper-snappers studying Arabic these days have tons of material that us veterans had no access to back in the day.

Just googling Arabic, I came across the television show Revolution, starring Billy Burke, Tracy Spiridakos, Elizabeth Mitchell, Daniella Alonso, and Giancarlo Esposito among others subtitled in Arabic.

We are making it too easy to learn the language! You know how many times I had to watch Flipper and Sindbad in Arabic because they were the only DVDs we had? Dozens of times!

How to Get Creamed in Arabic

Sadly, I have my Arabic test looming, so blogging may be light and frivolous. And if I am going to suffer, you are too. Try reading this article on weapons. The author addresses if guns are for defense or for a hobby:

السلاح .. دفاع عن النفس أم هواية؟

تناولت وسائل الاعلام في الآونة الأخيرة خبر احتجاز الشرطة للفنان المصري محمد رمضان بطل فيلم عبده موتة بسبب حيازته لأسلحة نارية وذخيرة ضبطت في سيارته.

ورغم انكاره لمعرفته بأمر تلك الأسلحة، إلا أن الموضوع أثار الحديث في مصر عن حيازة بعض الناس لأسلحة مختلفة لحماية انفسهم أو ربما ايضا لمهاجمة الأخرين .إيناس علوي تحاول رصد الظاهرة

This test could get ugly. I betta bring coffee, I’m going to get creamed.

Onomatology & Anthroponomastic are big words; can you spell them? ‘Them’!

This is a long one, without many pretty pictures to hold your attention. Before continuing, please ensure you have eaten your fill, and that your cup, glass, mug, can, bottle, is fully charged, and that you have visited the bathroom, heads, toilet, john, powder room.

Now, are you sitting comfortably? Then I’ll begin…

Surnames, moniker’s and nicknames; what’s yours?

Surnames, Christian names, and even moniker’s issued at birth can almost identify an individual’s lineage, caste, and social standing. Later on in life as we grow into our given names, circumstances may arise that could blight our social standing. It can be through a nickname or a set of initials, which when paired to a place of work, can bring down a person’s credibility from a high ten, to a crashing zero; or at least raise a smile or two along the way.

For instanceDr. Richard (aka ‘Dick’) Head. Head of Urology! Now that’s taking the piss (an ‘olde’ English term meaning; to extract mirth or a hidden truth from a person).

How aboutA Frenchman named Bertrand Iain Garen Noa’se, Gaelic spelling pronounced as ‘Nose’. Who possibly had the cutest button nose as a child, that sadly grew to an epic ‘aquiline’ (roman) nose later on in life. Made even more unfortunate that in France his full name is that of one from noble birth. But, in England his initials BIG Noa’se, or even his surname could earn him the nickname of ‘Hooter’, ‘Massive’, ‘Nosey’, or simply ‘BIG’?de-Gaulle

Onomatology & Anthroponomastic are big words; can you spell them?Them’!  😉 I have a friend who studies ‘Onomatology’, the study of proper names of all kinds, as well as ‘Anthroponomastics’, the study of personal names. Just as a linguist has the ability to pick out a tune or a certain tone from a foreign language, my friend has the ability of picking out a source or meaning of a name/nickname. It some times can be quite fascinating to listen to her over a coffee; she is almost the equivalent of a mad professor as she spouts forth information at a high cyclic rate of fire. When I introduced her to the topic of Military nicknames she was enthralled, and went off like a belt fed howitzer.

My early interest for Military nicknames grew through basic training on one miserable wind-swept winter day, as my squad stood in three ranks freezing to death in wet kit. We awaited the training team Sgt to issue out some long-awaited mail from home; as he called out the name of a recruit, he also handed out an appropriate Corps nickname, i.e. “Recruit Clerk” [Clark, or Clarke]; “from this day forward you will be known to others as Nobby”. (Taken from the days of the Raj, a native Indian who worked as a clerk was known within his own tongue as a ‘nobbi’; hence, Nobby Clerk)!

Recruit Reynolds was fortunate enough to pick up a letter as well as the nickname of ‘Burt‘, as the alternative to this was ‘Debbie‘, which had already been given to another squad member! To this day they each retain their moniker when reunions are attended. Some surnames have no historical nickname within the military; suffice to say an individual would pick one up along the way. Possibly through a matched celebrity name from years gone by (Burt/Debbie), or perhaps from a famous name in history (Recruit ‘Prince’ Charming). One could be attached through an act due to an action of their own making, or simply through an action not of their choosing. One marine known as ‘Slasher’, picked up his moniker as he suffered several lacerations from being attacked with a broken beer bottle. The French Merchant seaman who obliged him could now be named as ‘Chinned’, as ‘Slasher’ did indeed ‘chin’ him with one almighty ‘homeward bounder’ (a right uppercut to the chin, which laid him spark out)! Marseilles; what a run-ashore…

A few traditional nicknames that spring to mind that follows on from a surname…

Light = Shiner or Torchy.

Bottom = Sandy.

Miller = Windy, or Dusty (Taken from a miller working within a windmill).

Gale/Gail = Windy, or Howling. 

Holland = Dutchy.                                                                                                        

Hudson = Soapy (The Hudson Company manufactured soap for the fleet).              

Holding = Scaff (play on the word scaffolding). 

Hall = Church, or Churchy                                                                                              

Lane = Shady, or Dusty. 

Tate = Spud. 

Warren = Bunny. 

White = Chalky.

Woods = Timber. 

Smith = Smudge, or Knacker, or Knocker [nocker/nacker]. Derived from ‘Smith’; being a short-term for blacksmith. A blacksmith in the days of mounted cavalry would also act as a Knacker or Knocker, whose part profession was to ‘knock or knack’ a badly wounded horse on the head after battle to kill it. The slaughter of the horse afterwards for human consumption would be done within the ‘Knackers yard’. A certain Marine Smith, was known to all who knew him as ‘n-n-nocker’ as he spoke with a stutter. 😉 The list is endless, ageless, and priceless… And the vast majority accept the moniker as a right of passage.

Genuine Dit… A legendary RM Drill Instructor, whose surname was Bartlett carried the nickname of Dhobi’ *(Refer to Dhobi below). My Squads first introduction to this fearsome man was on the parade ground, where he stood immaculately at attention, ramrod straight, starched, and sparkling; as was expected of the 1st Drill (God’s God, the Senior Drill Instructor). Dressed perfectly in full No 2. Dress Lovat uniform, with a gleaming Pace stick jammed horizontally under his left arm; he spoke in a cockney accented voice, that was as crisp and as sharp as wine from a chilled bottle of Chardonnay… “My name is Bartlett, I am Colour Sergeant Bartlett R.M. And I am the First Drill”! As we collectively shuddered at what may come next he continued… “My nickname is ‘Dhobi’, Dhobi Bartlett, so named ‘cos’ I am the cleanest and smartest Drill Instructor in Her Majesty’s Royal Marines! And if any of you ‘orrible cretins’ ever get placed before me for being untidy-crabby-bar-steward’s, I will ensure that you suffer my wrath for the rest of eternity”.

His steely eyed slow ‘left-to-right-gaze’, as well as the slight-pause in his speech allowed the warning to sink in; he continued with cliches… ‘cleanliness, godliness, creases sharp enough to shave with’, etc, etc… “Irish pennants will not be tolerated, nor will a missed hair from a shoddy shave; and may your God help you if I find anyone on my parade ground with shaving foam behind his ear, because inattention to detail is an act that one day will get you killed”! (Stood in front of me was a little Irish recruit who required his God’s help ‘PDQ’, as he did indeed have a left over piece of shaving foam tucked behind his right lobe. In addition to this, it became obvious some few minutes later that he had also missed a couple of hairs on his ‘chinney, chin, chin’. Not only that, but the top button on his stone shirt had an Irish pennant protruding from it, which, when gently pulled by God’s God, unravelled; allowing the button to fall in ultra slow motion to the hallowed parade ground. The scream of “Your inattention to detail could get you and your oppos killed on a battle fieldreverberated around the parade ground, and pierced my brain.

Inevitably the poor lad was ordered to place himself on the flank for punishment, as the ‘cleanest Marine God had ever seen’ continued his inspection, hovering between the three lined ranks stood at open order. (Up until that point, I had no idea just how many things totally irrelevant in Civvie Street, could actually get you killed in the Royal Marines)?

The Irish recruit was bawled out and ordered to get his shaving kit and towel, as well as to bring back a ‘dhobi’ bucket full of cold water, “not at the double, but at the ‘EFFIN’ treble”. Which he promptly did, resulting in him stripping off down to the waist in the middle of the parade ground to conduct his shave correctly? The resulting water being flushed over him as a rinse off. Not what you want on a freezing cold morning on a wind-blown parade ground!

One mans punishment, witnessed by fifty was sufficient for the message to be hoisted aboard. Which has worked to this very day, as I still check behind my ears for shaving foam, every morning of every day after a close razor shave. Attention to detail will save my life, ‘cos’ Dhobi Bartlett said so.

*’Dhobis’ are an occupational caste group from India, (since partition, they also reside in Pakistan), who specialise in washing and ironing clothes as a domestic service. A term used by the RN/RM’s since the days of the Raj. Hence, washing powder is known as ‘dhobi dust’, and a bucket used each evening to crash out your socks and nicks in, is referred to as a dhobi bucket. Which incidentally is the nickname given to anyone with the surname of Bucket = Dhobi.

Yours Aye.

Hispanic Custodians Speak 11 Languages in Auraria?

In a ridiculous story about a group of Hispanic custodians (at the Auraria Campus in Denver) who are claiming discrimination due to the signs being in English, the following comment was made:

Hispanic Custodians On Auraria Campus Claim Discrimination
Custodios hispana en Auraria Campus demanda por discriminación
אפוטרופסים היספניים על האפליה תביעת קמפוס Auraria
Ισπανικός Θεματοφύλακες σχετικά με τις διακρίσεις Campus Auraria αξίωση
Испанец попечителями Auraria дискриминации претензии Campus
Hispanic de custodibus Auraria campum petere discrimine
Auraria 캠퍼스 청구 차별 히스패닉 후견인
أمناء الحفظ اسباني في Auraria
Ισπανικός Θεματοφύλακες σχετικά με τις διακρίσεις Campus Auraria αξίωση

Sorry, you know me, I could not resist the multi-lingual appeal. It is interesting how compact Arabic is. Do note that the Auraria should go as the last word if you reading right to left, but the translator had issues with cutting and pasting it.

As for the story, I do like what campus spokesman Blaine Nickeson had to say to Bertha Ribota’s and Tim Markham’s group.

It Pays to be a Winner

Second place doesn’t count for much, especially in certain fields like pistol dueling and comedy. I can’t say I’ve ever dueled someone, but I have dropped a punchline and it really hurts when I’m second (or ninth.) Get this:

Me: Sonali? Hmmm, that is an interesting name.
Grocery girl: It is Indian. My mother is from India.
Me: Ah, what does it mean?
Grocery girl: Golden.
Me: Roger, I was a Navy linguist. I always keep an eye on Hindi as something that would be fun to learn.
Grocery girl: I love languages. I spent three months in Togo. I’m an archaeology major and I keep thinking about minoring in linguistics.
Me: Togo? Isn’t that a sandwich shop?
Grocery girl: (Making a face) That is what my brother said!

Comedy, it’s not for amateurs. . .