George Monbiot gives his view on billionaires Bezos and Branson and their ‘humanitarian’ missions into space.
Leave a comment if you feel inspired!
DOUBLE DOWN NEWS
Leave a comment if you feel inspired!
DOUBLE DOWN NEWS
Gironzolando per la rete l’altro giorno mi sono imbattuto in questo simpatico video sul sito https://www.open.edu/openlearn/ che, in modo scherzoso e auto-ironico, traccia la storia della lingua inglese dai tempi dei Romani ai tempi moderni. Non è un brano facile e la lettura di Clive Anderson è piuttosto incalzante, ma tra video, trascrizione del testo e gli aiuti che ho fornito nella trascrizione, potrebbe essere un utile e divertente esercizio di ascolto e di lettura per studenti di livello intermedio. Suggerisco di cominciare dal video, ascoltando e cogliendo quanto possibile del racconto con l’aiuto delle immagini. In un secondo momento potete avviare nuovamente il video e seguire la narrazione direttamente con la trascrizione davanti.
[per sapere il significato delle parole evidenziate,
passaci sopra con il mouse senza cliccare]
The English language begins with the phrase ‘Up Yours Caesar!’ as the Romans leave Britain and a lot of Germanic tribes start flooding in; tribes such as the Angles and the Saxons – who together gave us the term Anglo-Saxon, and the Jutes – who didn’t.
The Romans left some very straight roads behind, but not much of their Latin language. The Anglo-Saxon vocab was much more useful as it was mainly words for simple everyday things like ‘house’, ‘woman’, ‘loaf’ and ‘werewolf’.
Four of our days of the week were named in honour of Anglo-Saxon gods. They didn’t bother with Saturday, Sunday and Monday as they had all gone off for a long weekend. While they were away, Christian missionaries stole in bringing with them leaflets about jumble sales and more Latin.
Along came the Vikings, with their action-man words like ‘drag’, ‘ransack’, ‘thrust’ and ‘die’. They may have raped and pillaged but they were also into ‘give’ and ‘take’ – two of around 2000 words they gave English, as well as the phrase ‘watch out for that man with the enormous axe.’
French was de rigeur for all official business, with words like ‘judge’, ‘jury’, ‘evidence’ and ‘justice’ coming in and giving John Grisham’s career a kick-start. Latin was still used ad nauseam in Church, but the common man spoke English – able to communicate only by speaking more slowly and loudly until the others understood him.
Words like ‘cow’, ‘sheep’ and ‘swine’ come from the English-speaking farmers, while the a-la-carte versions – ‘beef’, ‘mutton’ and ‘pork’ – come from the French-speaking toffs – beginning a long-running trend for restaurants having completely indecipherable menus.
All in all, the English absorbed about 10,000 new words from the Normans, but they still couldn’t grasp the rules of cheek-kissing.
The bonhomie all ended when the English nation took their new warlike lingo of ‘armies’, ‘navies’ and ‘soldiers’ and began the Hundred Years War against France. It actually lasted 116 years but by that point no one could count any higher in French and English took over as the language of power.
As the dictionary tells us, about 2000 new words and phrases were invented by William Shakespeare. He gave us handy words like ‘eyeball’, ‘puppy-dog’ and ‘anchovy’ – and more show-offy words like ‘dauntless’, ‘besmirch’ and ‘lacklustre’. He came up with the word ‘alligator’, soon after he ran out of things to rhyme with ‘crocodile’. And a nation of tea-drinkers finally took him to their hearts when he invented the ‘hobnob’.
Shakespeare knew the power of catch-phrases as well as biscuits. Without him we would never eat our ‘flesh and blood’ ‘out of house and home’ – we’d have to say ‘good riddance’ to ‘the green-eyed monster’ and ‘breaking the ice’ would be ‘as dead as a doornail’. If you tried to get your ‘money’s worth’ you’d be given ‘short shrift’ and anyone who ‘laid it on with a trowel’ could be ‘hoist with his own petard’.
Of course it’s possible other people used these words first, but the dictionary writers liked looking them up in Shakespeare ’cause there was more cross-dressing and people poking each other’s eyes out.
Shakespeare’s poetry showed the world that English was a rich vibrant language with limitless expressive and emotional power. And he still had time to open all those tearooms in Stratford.
In 1611 ‘the powers that be’ ‘turned the world upside down’ with a ‘labour of love’ – a new translation of the bible. A team of scribes with the ‘wisdom of Solomon’ – ‘went the extra mile’ to make King James’ translation ‘all things to all men’, whether from their ‘heart’s desire’ ‘to fight the good fight’ or just for the ‘filthy lucre’.
This sexy new Bible went ‘from strength to strength’, getting to ‘the root of the matter’ in a language even ‘the salt of the earth’ could understand. ‘The writing wasn’t on the wall’, it was in handy little books with ‘fire and brimstone’ preachers reading it in every church, its words and phrases ‘took root’ ‘to the ends of the earth’ – well at least the ends of Britain.
The King James Bible is the book that taught us that ‘a leopard can’t change its spots’, that ‘a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush’, that ‘a wolf in sheep’s clothing is harder to spot than you would imagine, and how annoying it is to have ‘a fly in your ointment’.
Before the 17th Century scientists weren’t really recognised – possibly because lab-coats had yet to catch on. But suddenly Britain was full of physicists – there was Robert Hooke, Robert Boyle – and even some people not called Robert, like Isaac Newton. The Royal Society was formed out of the Invisible College – after they put it down somewhere and couldn’t find it again.
At first they worked in Latin. After sitting through Newton’s story about the ‘pomum’ falling to the ‘terra’ from the ‘arbor’ for the umpteenth time, the bright sparks realised they all spoke English and they could transform our understanding of the universe much quicker by talking in their own language.
But science was discovering things faster than they could name them. Words like ‘acid’, ‘gravity’, ‘electricity and ‘pendulum’ had to be invented just to stop their meetings turning into an endless game of charades.
Like teenage boys, the scientists suddenly became aware of the human body – coining new words like ‘cardiac’ and ‘tonsil’, ‘ovary’, and ‘sternum’ – and the invention of ‘penis’ (1693), ‘vagina’ (1682) made sex education classes a bit easier to follow. Though ‘clitoris’ was still a source of confusion.
With English making its name as the language of science, the Bible and Shakespeare, Britain decided to take it on tour. Asking only for land, wealth, natural resources, total obedience to the crown and a few local words in return.
They went to the Caribbean looking for gold and a chance to really unwind – discovering the ‘barbeque’, the ‘canoe’ and a pretty good recipe for rum punch. They also brought back the word ‘cannibal’ to make their trip sound more exciting.
In India there was something for everyone. ‘Yoga’ – to help you stay in shape, while pretending to be spiritual. If that didn’t work there was the ‘cummerbund’ to hide a paunch and – if you couldn’t even make it up the stairs without turning ‘crimson’ – they had the ‘bungalow’.
All in all, between toppling Napoleon (1815) and the first World War (1914), the British Empire gobbled up around 10 million square miles, 400 million people and nearly a hundred thousand gin and tonics, leaving new varieties of English to develop all over the globe.
With English expanding in all directions, along came a new breed of men called lexicographers, who wanted to put an end to this anarchy – a word they defined as ‘what happens when people spell words slightly differently from each other’.
One of the greatest was Doctor Johnson, whose ‘Dictionary of the English Language’ took him 9 years to write. It was 18 inches tall and contained 42,773 entries, meaning that even if you couldn’t read, it was still pretty useful if you wanted to reach a high shelf.
For the first time, when people were calling you ‘a pickle herring’, a ‘jobbernowl‘ or a ‘fopdoodle’, you could understand exactly what they meant – and you’d have the consolation of knowing they were all using the standard spelling.
Try as he might to stop them, words kept being invented and in 1857 a new book was started that would become the Oxford English Dictionary. It took another 70 years to be finished after the first editor resigned to be an Archbishop, the second died of TB and the third was so boring that half his volunteers quit and one of them ended up in an asylum. It eventually appeared in 1928 and has continued to be revised ever since – proving the whole idea you can stop people making up words is complete snuffbumble.
From the moment Brits landed in America they needed names for all the new plants and animals so they borrowed words like ‘raccoon’, ‘squash’ and ‘moose’ from the Native Americans, as well as most of their territory.
Waves of immigrants fed America’s hunger for words. The Dutch came sharing ‘coleslaw’ and ‘cookies’ – probably as a result of their relaxed attitude to drugs. Later, the Germans arrived selling ‘pretzels’ from ‘delicatessens’ and the Italians arrived with their ‘pizza’, their ‘pasta’ and their ‘mafia’, just like mamma used to make.
America spread a new language of capitalism – getting everyone worried about the ‘breakeven’ and ‘the bottom line’, and whether they were ‘blue chip’ or ‘white collar’. The commuter needed a whole new system of ‘freeways’, ‘subways’ and ‘parking lots’ – and quickly, before words like ‘merger’ and ‘downsizing’ could be invented.
American English drifted back across the pond as Brits ‘got the hang of’ their ‘cool movies’, and their ‘groovy’ ‘jazz’. There were even some old forgotten English words that lived on in America. So they carried on using ‘fall’, ‘faucets’, ‘diapers’ and ‘candy’, while the Brits moved on to ‘autumn’, ‘taps’, ‘nappies’ and NHS dental care.
In 1972 the first email was sent. Soon the Internet arrived – a free global space to share information, ideas and amusing pictures of cats.
Before the Internet, English changed through people speaking it – but the net brought typing back into fashion and hundreds of cases of repetitive strain injury. Nobody had ever had to ‘download’ anything before, let alone use a ‘toolbar’ – And the only time someone set up a ‘firewall’, it ended with a massive insurance claim and a huge pile of charred wallpaper.
Conversations were getting shorter than the average attention span – why bother writing a sentence when an abbreviation would do and leave you more time to ‘blog’, ‘poke’ and ‘reboot’ when your ‘hard drive’ crashed?
Some changes even passed into spoken English. For your information people frequently asked questions like “how can ‘LOL’ mean ‘laugh out loud’ and ‘lots of love’? But if you’re going to complain about that then UG2BK (you’ve got to be kidding).
In the 1500 years since the Roman’s left Britain, English has shown a unique ability to absorb, evolve, invade and, if we’re honest, steal. After foreign settlers got it started, it grew into a fully-fledged language all of its own, before leaving home and travelling the world, first via the high seas, then via the high speed broadband connection, pilfering words from over 350 languages and establishing itself as a global institution. All this despite a written alphabet that bears no correlation to how it sounds and a system of spelling that even Dan Brown couldn’t decipher.
Right now around 1.5 billion people speak English. Of these about a quarter are native speakers, a quarter speak it as their second language, and half are able to ask for directions to a swimming pool.
There’s Hinglish – which is Hindi-English, Chinglish – which is Chinese-English and Singlish – which is Singaporean English – and not that bit when they speak in musicals.
So in conclusion, the language has got so little to do with England these days it may well be time to stop calling it ‘English’. But if someone does think up a new name for it, it should probably be in Chinese.
The Sketch Show is a British television sketch comedy programme,
featuring many leading British comedians.
It aired on ITV between 2001 and 2004.
All five actors are in a phobias workshop. Their phobias include a fear of the word “Aagh!”, a fear of apologies, a fear of repetition, and a fear of awkward silences.
Performed by Lee Mack, Jim Tavare, Tim Vine, Karen Taylor and Ronni Ancona.
1) What is Tim’s problem?
2) When did Jim’s problem start?
La tradizione vuole che il vero cockney è colui o colei che nasce a portata di orecchio delle “Bow Bells” – le campane della Chiesa di St. Mary-le-Bow – che si trovano nella zona di Cheapside nel centro storico di Londra. Originariamente però, il termine cockney fu usato in modo spregiativo da parte degli abitanti della campagna (gente vera) per deridere gli abitanti della città (gente smidollata). Nel tempo il termine ha perso il suo senso spregiativo e si è ristretto ai cittadini di Londra e poi, man mano che la città di Londra cresceva, solo a coloro nati, appunto, a portata di orecchio delle “Bow Bells”. Ormai oggi il suono delle campane è soffocato dal rumore della città e per la maggior parte della gente, un cockney è semplicemente un londinese, meglio se appartiene alla classe operaia e, meglio ancora se viene dall’East End di Londra.
Perché parlare del cockney qui? Semplicemente perché il cockney accent è una realtà che lo studente della lingua inglese non può ignorare, soprattutto considerando che la città di Londra è una delle destinazioni più ambite in assoluto dai turisti diretti verso la Gran Bretagna. Chi va a Londra è destinato a scontrarsi prima o poi con il cockney accent e quando questo succederà, è meglio essere preparati. Il cockney accent fa tutto il possibile per rompere ogni regola di buona pronuncia che il tuo insegnante di inglese ha cercato meticolosamente e pazientamente di insegnarti!
Lascio i dettagli fonetici di questo particolarissimo accento al divertente ma istruttivo video qui sotto.
Where should we put the stress when we say “To be or not to be”?
That is the question!
Does Prince Charles have the answer?
[ intermediate / advanced ]
For the past 25 years, Ra Paulette has been carving out man-made caves from the sandstone hills of New Mexico, and then sculpting these spaces into works of art he calls wilderness shrines. Lee Cowan has the story of an artist who does his best work underground.