I’v just seen this on Wikipedia and feel it’s on to somthing intresting. You don’t hav to change the entire alfabet, just make a few useful adaptions to the present system.
A few simpl steps to get the ball rolling:
– write e-sound as e (
head, any, said hed, eny, sed)
– get rid of useless e’s (
have, freeze, valley hav, freez, vally)
– change ph to f (alfabetical!)
– and doing somthing diffrent with those infernal augh and ough words (maybe I should rewrite my surname as Bruf? That’ll stop the awkward “Mr. Broo… Brow… Broah…” phone calls, lol).
I was surprised that the Australian government did attempt to work with the first one (hed, eny, sed, etc.) but it didn’t stick.
By the way, I’v been working on a new wikispaces to present a few of my orthografical experiments, which I’ll share shortly.
(don’t worry, I won’t always be writing like this, just occasionally 😉 )
At the moment I writing a short story about a Brinkleginks first encounter with humans. I started it in a serious-fantasy mode, and I could start it, carried on it for a few paragraphs, but then there comes a bit where there’s a “pause” in the actual story, where I don’t know how to transition from one phase to another. Well, I’ve just written the same story but in funny-fantasy mode and found it flows much better. I think that, for the moment, this is really “my style”, as I discovered with Jake Fish, St. John de Monmouth and a few other short stories. For the moment I think I’ll just write what flows, and what entertains me by whilst I’m writing.
What is the fine line between bravery and stupidity? You run away: are you a coward or intelligent? If fear is the only thing we have to fear, what is the function of fear?
I think we can do a lot learning to distinguish types of fear, and from where the fear comes from: is it really our fear or something learnt, a prejudice? Fear, in animals, has proven to be useful, and is part of our evolutionary make-up. And yet there are moments where we are inhibited by fear and feel paralysed to do anything at all: we are hindered by phantasmic “what ifs?” that stop us before we even try – all those niggling doubts build up and paralyse us. We might cite types of animals that “freeze”, but, psychologically speaking, when we are paralysed by our fears it is not a survival tactic, and quite often has the opposite affect of hindering us.
And so we seek to build courage by overcoming out fear, “transcending our limitations”, which is fine up until we confuse our natural fear with our cultural fear. We confuse them by labelling them both “fear”, and also because we have been taught to ignore the natural and replace it with the cultural.
So, what is the difference between bravery and stupidity? Courage is overcoming our culturally conditioned fears, but it becomes stupidity when it ignores our inherent fear. On my doorstep is a forest, and the most dangerous thing to encounter there is human stupidity. The vipers and wild boar are dangerous only if you don’t respect them and “their territory” – I don’t and can’t march into it as if I owned the place, and the same in an urban area.
There’s a path to discover discriminating between the fear that stops us from living and the fear that favours life. It’s been good for me to pay attention to my fears, even so-called “unreasonable” fears, and give them due space (they’re there for a reason). Maybe you decide to bypass that fear or maybe to adhere to it, either way let it be a clear decision, and then watch the results. And start with the little things, like fear of learning a new skill, before going for those life-risking things, like swimming with sharks. 😉
Since Inglish haz such a complicated spelling sistem, izn’t it about time it woz simplifyd a bit? I meen, yoo understand whot I am saying, doan’t yoo? Thair’z a thred whair eech persan rites in thair oan way, yet, for the moast part, we can understand whot eech uther iz saying. The oanly problem iz that it takes longher to think when reeding, so it’s moar canveniant tu stic with canvenshen. I’m shur yoo’v understood me, but that it’s taken longher tu reed, and sum werdz yoo just doan’t understand without givving it sum thaut.
It happenz tu me reeding Spanish or French: sum dayz the brain just izn’t responding inuff tu understand whot’s being sed, but I persevveer.
I read something in my psychosynthesis lesson that the contents of our relationship cannot be changed, but we (as identifier) can change our relationship to them – which would put a large part of the self-help industry out of business, and some of psychology’s schools of thought, lol. A lot of psychological work is not about change but about integration of what is already there, which itself is a great catalyst for change.
Much of what we have to learn in life doesn’t come from outside of us but are residing within, and waiting. I figure that it’s because the greatest lessons in life are universal and archetypal, something all humans have to go through in one form or another, so they are innate. We can learn facts, figures and other bits of info externally, but what we have to learn about life resides hidden within us, waiting to be recognised and integrated, as lessons encountered as part of the phases of life, or re-discoveries of lessons denied to us earlier in life.
In this sense, we don’t learn anything from life circumstances about ourselves and life, but they do offer a great opportunity to know ourselves and discover our own potential.
Philosophy is, according to my book of philosophers, 2700 years old, going back to Thales of Miletus for first proposing to come up with rational explanation of things as opposed to mythological explanations*. My question is, after so many years of philosophy, why aren’t we all philosophers? Why aren’t we all aspiring to become great thinkers greatly thinking great thoughts? There’s been ample time, and enough philosophical thoughts have been accrued to think about. There’s too many social, political, cultural and historical factors to take into consideration to give a simple answer to that I think, apart from, I suppose, there’s been a lot of people that have benefited from the ignorance of others, and others find that “ignorance is bliss”. I’m sure there’s many philosophers that can provide us with many different answers to my questions.
Maybe we’re talking about something only a few academic people are able to do, though I hardly think so; we are all capable of making sense of the world around us, and in a variety of ways. Typically there is a philosopher and then there is their “followers” that adopt the principles and identity of a philosophy, often uncritically, which isn’t very philosophical IMO. Later, another philosopher will come along and criticise and/or build on the works of previous philosophers, and then a whole new branch of philosophy is created.
Philosophical doctrines represent, to me, the accumulation of human wisdom that can be further built on. Philosophy represents a broadening, heightening and deepening of thought within each of us, and pursuing, individually and collectively, a more refined way of thinking in order to improve the way we live life on Earth – something which cannot be and is not the sole domain of academics; it is something very human.
*later on in the book another philosopher suggests that oral culture, not just written culture, should be included in this, making philosophy far older.