They wept like anything to see / such quantites of sand.

Casting about for more 1024 material (got the Sunne Rising and Grecian Urn down pat). Fighting the urge to go w/ some light verse (I hate that term) -- so, Edward Lear or perhaps W.S. Gilbert's Bab Ballads. In other words, the greatest comfort-stuffs outside of Renaissance madrigals and walking. Still, the stuff's a real trip down memory lane. I remember that musical rendition of the Walrus and the Carpenter ye olde Hirohito* sent me way back when [Google has informed me it was Donovan]. Wish we (=humankind) appreciated "light verse" more. And, really that melodramatic, extravagant, fanciful, clever, sadhappy Gilbert-and-Sullivan-style doggerel is partly what I want to bring to De Inanibus, so, why not?

Totally unrelated, but this has immediately jumped to the top of my to-read list. Fun stuff.

One of my friends mentioned reading the Iliad, and I responded with an opinionated flurry of translator comparisons. Barring learning Greek, I still rate Pope's as the highest in actual poetic quality. Its language is infinitely more Homeric than any of the pansy renditions of the 20th century. It gets an unfairly bad rap cuz we pretentious postmoderns can't deal w/ Pope's format ("Heroic couplets? How quaint!") So, Pope > Lattimore > Fagles. Fact. Actually, someone agrees w/ me for once. Thank you cybervoid for confirming my bias.


*Great Scott, Hirohito! It's Mary Todd Lincoln.

And, of course, the unquestionable themesong for this evening is this (featuring the voice cast of The Princess Bride (starting around 6:48) and the phonetic twin of Paul McCartney). This was my childhood. Really, just listen to the entire album.

Frigg's Day: Brief Update on Writing Plans & Phoenician Religion

I've decided to go ahead w/ my (working title) De Inanibus for NaNoWriMo. I've got more than enough material to work w/, so it's just a matter of sitting down and forcing myself to write. Also compiling notes for An Iceman Always Keeps His Cool. Alas, too many ideas and too little motivation.

Enjoying Giambattista Vico's Scienza Nuova. Vico mentions a certain Sancuniate (p. 60 of this edition), also known as Sanchuniathon. To my eternal shame, I was unacquainted with this reticent philological specimen until now, but Wikipedia has shown me the light. He's the purported author of several works on religion in the Phoenician language. Eusebius of Caesarea, quoting (perhaps rather liberally) a Greek translation by Philo of Byblos, provides our only source for the material. So, ancient near eastern cosmogonies FTW! Phoenicia's always had a special aura for some reason. Tyrian purple. Cedars. The Sea Peoples. Swan-prowed ships. Númenor.

Also: Because who doesn't like eggcorns (courtesy of Languagehat).

And...