Hey--I TOLD YOU that the Times follows my blog. Look at this:
In 2009, Dr. Wermke’s and her colleagues made headlines with a study showing that French and German newborns produce distinctly different “cry melodies,” reflecting the languages they heard in utero: German newborns produce more cries that fall from a higher to a lower pitch, mimicking the falling intonation of the German language, while French infants tend to cry with the rising intonation of French. At this age, babies experiment with a wide variety of sounds, and can learn any language. But they are already influenced by their mother tongue.
Newborns whose mothers speak tonal languages, such as Mandarin, tend to produce more complex cry melodies. Swedish newborns, whose native language has what linguists call a “pitch accent,” produce more sing-songy cries.
After they are born, young babies mimic many different sounds. But they are especially shaped by the prosody they heard in the womb, which becomes a handy guide to the strange sounds coming from the people around them. Through stress, pauses and other cues, prosody cuts up the stream of sound into words and phrases – that is, into speech.
The Trump Show was a disappointment last night. Trump has learned how to conduct a news briefing a bit better now. He doesn't go back and forth with reporters like a schoolyard bully any more. He insults them, but he won't let them ask follow up questions. It was fun to watch him get stupid and mad. I love watching people whose lives are insulated from questioning get pissed off when challenged. I watched the factory CEO get pissed off in the exact same way when questioned. Questions are bad for leadership, I guess. You don't want any criticism. That's for the underlings. Wizards get together on their own to figure things out. They like running a meeting, not being part of the hoi-poloi.
But Trump is winning. The market is flying once again. He beat me out of a new car holding a pair three deuces. I don't know how he does it, but he does it every time.
I worked all the live long day for forty-eight hours now. Not straight, of course. But from sunrise to sundown. Yesterday I tackled my "study." I put it into quotes because it is a combination study/bedroom. Small. Very small. But it is a catch all room and gets piled up with every bit of photo equipment and photo boxes and boxes of paper and ephemera.
I sat down and opened a drawer. I went through every scrap of paper there. Old notes, love letters, invitations, foreign coins, engagements rings (1), pens, pictures. . . . I spent two hours on the drawer. And when I was done, the room was still a freaking mess. So I didn't quit. I listened to music and kept going. I tried to organize chaos. And did, to some extent, so that by the end of the day, everything was put somewhere. The floors and bed and surfaces were free of debris. It was so much more pleasant to be in there that I scanned some things and played with an old image which you see at the top of the post.
Dare I post it? Well here's what I'm offering you. For just $9.99, I'll send you a 6x4 print for artists only. These are not sold for promiscuity. No wankers. This is straight up in your face liberal art. If you are unable to appreciate the aesthetic grace (important to use the "a" when speaking of art) and spiritual value of the print, you need not apply. But for those of you with higher sensibilities, well, this is just a stupendous deal. Just send me a message or contact me in the comment section and I'll send your print via USPS just as soon as I feel it safe to go to the post office. I have four large prints sitting on my dining room table right now that have been waiting to be shipped. Not willing to chance it yet, but everything will be over soon and we will be back to normal. That is what I heard.
These ads come straight out of camera magazines from 1919 that were sent to me by a friend of the blog. Thanks, friend.