The English language is full of strange idioms, many of them that we use without understanding how that phrase came to being. I only have time for a few but I might add more later. Let's take a look at them shall we?
Train of thought: The process and direction of one's thoughts
From the early 14th century, the word "train" meant a "drawing out or delay" of something.
I once did an animation of Ahmadinejad. This was part of the “where is my vote campaign” when the Iranian elections were rigged ( not that under the Islamic Republic there has ever been proper elections but even with their twisted standards they rigged it!).
Shakespeare on IPAD 3
Shall I compare thee to the release of IPAD 2 last Summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
And competitors as nature intends feature align
yet eternal Summer of this apple product shall not fade.
So long as apps can be free, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this IPAD in the market be.
Mary Shelley on Windows Vista
“Cursed, cursed creator! Why did I live? Why, in that instant, did I not extinguish the spark of existence which you had so wantonly bestowed? I know not; despair had not yet taken possession of me; my feelings were those of rage and revenge. I could with pleasure have destroyed the desktops and its users and have glutted myself with their shrieks and misery.
Charles Dickens on Winzip
Why I was trying to pack mine into my tumbler, I am wholly unable to say. I only know that I found myself, with a perseverance worthy of a much better cause, making the most strenuous exertions to compress it within those limits. Again I thanked him and apologized, and again he said in the cheerfullest manner, “Not at all, I am sure!” and resumed.
Virginia Woolf on Angry Birds
For Heaven only knows why one loves it so, how one sees it so, making it up, building it round one, tumbling it, creating it every moment afresh; but the veriest frumps, the most dejected of miseries sitting on doorsteps (drink their downfall) do the same; can’t be dealt with, she felt positive, by Acts of justice for that very reason: they love revenge from pigs.
James Joyce on Ebay
In their shawls and their tall combs and the auctions in the morning the Greeks and the jews and the Arabs and the devil knows who else from all the ends of Europe and Duke street and the fowl market all clucking outside Larby Sharons and the poor donkeys slipping half asleep and the vague fellows in the cloaks asleep in the shade on the steps and the big wheels of the carts of the bulls and the old castle thousands of years old yes and those handsome Moors all in white and turbans like kings asking you to sit down in their little bit of a shop.
Salman Rushdie and IT support line training
I was born in the city of Bombay … once upon a time. No, that won’t do, there’s no getting away from the date: I was born in Doctor Narlikar’s Nursing Home on August 15th, 1947. And the time? The time matters, too. Well then: at night. No, it’s important to be more … On the stroke of midnight, as a matter of fact. Clock-hands joined palms in respectful greeting as I came.
Niccolo Machiavelli
Dear Machiavelli,
My friends want to throw me a bachelor party. Knowing them, it will involve strippers, booze, drugs, the works. I promised my fiancée I would stay away from that kind of stuff, but I’m really tempted to go, and I’d hate to let the guys down. What should I do?
Signed,
Tempted
My Liege,
I am unsure how to advise you in this instance, for your status in this world has much bearing on the matter.
A frame from the video of Agha-Soltan’s death by gunfire (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Grave site of Neda Agha-Soltan, shot by Baseeji paramilitia in Tehran during the 2009 protests to the presidential election results. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
English: Portrait of Wilfred Owen, found in a collection of his poems from 1920. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Death of Neda Agha-Soltan (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Back in June 2009 Neda Agha Sultan was shot by a Basij member. Basij is a so-called volunteer militia that operates in the Islamic Republic of Iran (whenever the authorities want to use violence against the public or need a rent a mob. In reality these people are not volunteers they are on the payroll). She was shot as part of the policy to spread fear amongst peaceful protesters who were upset by the rigged elections. In those days I was watching events live on the internet and broadcasting it wherever I could. I was so moved by watching this event that with the slightest mention of her name I had to force myself and hold back the tears.
Inspired by the poem “Anthem for Doomed youth” by Wilfred Owen on 23rd June 2009 I wrote this poem and created this image of a man with the face of the globe looking behind a distorted glass.
What lamenting cry for you who fell like a leaf?
More howling guns or sound of protesting feet?
What drops should pour for this anguish?
Their tears of Gas? More weeping in blood vanquished?
No mockeries for you; no drink from their martyr’s well,
Nor sound and vision from a TV deaf and blind for those who fell,
No gleam of sorrow from these murderous beasts,
Only a frenzy as they persist their blood feast.
How many candles should we burn to keep your memory alive?
Burn the World with your light or go back to just survive?
You gave your youth, life and beauty,
Shame on us to live but not to do our duty.
Life is just a day, our lives race towards the dusk,
We shall walk your path in freeway, we must until we turn to dust.
Ramin Tork 23rd June 2009
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When her majesty becomes your virtual sweet grandmother. When she enters your surreal world and parachutes out to the crowd. When you grew up with Mr Bean and he makes you laugh the way he did the first time. When you know Brunel was not your Great Grandfather but you admire his spirit and feel like you are one of his sons. When you feel proud to see the march of suffragette and care when someone is wronged or if you see suffering. When your father did not come off the boat from Jamaica or India but like them you gave something back and you worked hard. When you know ceremonies was not there to make the world impressed, it just made everyone remember who we are and why we have a great nation or that we don’t want a thousand choreographed dancers we just put Bowie and Jagger on and have dancing in the streets for every nation, and when the love you get is equal to the love you give and no matter what your colour or creed you always hum Jerusalem as you hear it just like you breathe, and you are not afraid knowing the isle is full of noises or congestion could make the London Olympics full of poses take your place amongst us, watch the telly or watch it for real. Row when they row, dive when they dive and run when they run, and then, only then you have earned your place in old Blighty my son.
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