Will this speech ever become obsolete?
The full article can be found here: http://www.openculture.com/2016/11/charlie-chaplins-speech-in-the-great-dictator.html
an aggregation of activities
Will this speech ever become obsolete?
The full article can be found here: http://www.openculture.com/2016/11/charlie-chaplins-speech-in-the-great-dictator.html
Am I able to explain what you lack,
when all you can perceive is total black?
Missing a world with multiples of hue,
never a look at skies of clearest blue.
Am I capable to set you the scene,
of fields stretching away, full of green;
and how many countless a tear is shed
upon receiving those roses of red.
But, we are only just a mere human,
as no-one can really describe cyan.
Let alone that odd magenta fellow
and nothing is just, primary yellow.
Every colour is contained in white,
when you are able to behold the light.
A silly experiment to show how automatic translation can lose as much meaning as a human can make with a rubbish grasp of a different language.
Voyelles
A noir, E blanc, I rouge, U vert, O bleu: voyelles,
Je dirai quelque jour vos naissances latentes:
A, noir corset velu des mouches éclatantes
Qui bombinent autour des puanteurs cruelles,
Golfes d’ombre; E, candeurs des vapeurs et des tentes,
Lances des glaciers fiers, rois blancs, frissons d’ombelles;
I, pourpres, sang craché, rire des lèvres belles
Dans la colère ou les ivresses pénitentes;
U, cycles, houles divins des mers virides,
Paix des pâtis semés d’animaux, paix des rides
Que l’alchimie imprime aux grands fronts studieux;
O, suprême Clairon plein des strideurs étranges,
Silences traversés des [Mondes et des Anges]:
—O l’Oméga, rayon violet de [Ses] Yeux!
Using Google Translate to change the poem from French to English:
Vowels
A black, E white, I red, U green, O blue: vowels,
I will some day your mysterious origins:
A, black velvety jacket of brilliant flies
Which buzz around cruel smells,
Gulfs of shadow; E, whiteness of vapors and tents,
Lances of proud glaciers, white kings, shivers of umbels;
I, purples, spat blood, smile of beautiful lips
In anger or in the raptures of penitence;
U, cycles, divine shudderings of viridian seas,
Peace of pastures dotted with animals, Peace wrinkles
That alchemy prints on broad studious foreheads;
O, supreme Trumpet full of strange piercing sounds,
Silences crossed by [Worlds and Angels]
O the Omega, violet ray of [His] eyes!
Now Google Translated to the following sequence: French > German > Russian > Urdu > Spanish > Yiddish > Irish > Mongolian > Icelandic > Thai > Persian > Dutch > Tamil > Corsican > French > English
AT
Black and white fly, red, green and blue T O: swimming.
The origin of the “mysterious origins.
B. Turn the silk jacket
Again, under intense flavor.
Like a shadow, electricity, ships and the surrounding white tent.
Re Lanza white burst, but not heat.
Moon, lips smile spitting blood.
Increases anger or stress.
You, God cycles viridyan
Rides, peace flooding animal.
Pre-printed with a magical power;
Oh, the sound of French drill pipe.
Pacific Life Christian Angels.
Oh Omega purple eyes [it]!
Moral: Never trust no-one!
Travelling with the family,
mum, dad and three brothers.
Everything recalled dreamily,
in my timeless summers.
Pale sands, drift to a water’s edge
where, around ancient groins,
scalloped pools of clear water held
crustaceans for your toils.
Scuffing through estuary surf,
awed by giant concrete-
block remains, where those ascents were
denied chance to succeed.
Creating a fortress in sand
just for a day – until,
my action-men were left by chance,
deeply buried within.
A Sunday Market was a maze,
where traders did compete.
Finally we would leave this place,
since it was time to sleep.
secreted away | – | miniature grains |
waiting waiting | – | desire prey |
giants pass | – | detect vibrations |
infrared sense | – | heat draws |
slumbering darkness | – | eases transfer |
navigate pelage | – | choose locale |
epipharynx needle | – | punctures epidermis |
pump serum | – | gaining nourishment |
spit returns | – | passing disease |
unstoppable gorging | – | excess spills |
sated finally | – | spawn generations |
upon discovery | – | instant reaction |
sclerite exoskeleton | – | iron hard |
immense legs | – | resilin primed |
spring far | – | flee environ |
become dust | – | secreted away |
As is usual when working on assignments; you move away from the main computer to work on the laptop to prepare for University, when Scrivener decides that the project cannot be opened with a Location Access Error. WTF?
A lot of Googling later, checking Permissions; Read Write access; etc. I finally traced the issue to BitDefender and its RansomWare Protection – which basically locks out several system folders from unwanted file access – including Scrivener’s need to use my Dropbox folder, since I use Dropbox to back-up and transfer projects.
Long to short: Kill BitDefender’s RansomWare protection – or take the time to set it to play nicely with Scrivener.
I’ll be glad to be shot of it for a better Anti-Virus.
It is also the story of a book, a book called The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy – not an Earth book, never published on Earth, and until the terrible catastrophe occurred, never seen or heard of by any Earthman.
Nevertheless, a wholly remarkable book.
In fact, it was probably the most remarkable book ever to come out of the great publishing houses of Ursa Minor – of which no Earthman had ever heard either.
Not only is it a wholly remarkable book, it is also a highly successful one – more popular than the Celestial Home Care Omnibus, better selling than Fifty More Things to do in Zero Gravity, and more controversial than Oolon Colluphid’s trilogy of philosophical blockbusters Where God Went Wrong, Some More of God’s Greatest Mistakes and Who is this God Person Anyway?
In many of the more relaxed civilizations on the Outer Eastern Rim of the Galaxy, the Hitch Hiker’s Guide has already supplanted the great Encyclopedia Galactica as the standard repository of all knowledge and wisdom, for though it has many omissions and contains much that is apocryphal, or at least wildly inaccurate, it scores over the older, more pedestrian work in two important respects.
First, it is slightly cheaper; and secondly it has the words Don’t Panic inscribed in large friendly letters on its cover.
But the story of this terrible, stupid Thursday, the story of its extraordinary consequences, and the story of how these consequences are inextricably intertwined with this remarkable book begins very simply.
Life: love it or loath it; you can’t escape it.
Nice parody video of a certain dance routine from many a year ago 🙂
This is a test to see if IFTTT is of any use – I’m not 100% sure as of yet.