“...what Is The Point Of Looking At Things Which Must Always Be Viewed In So Crude A Light? When There

 ...

alright gather round, enthusiasts of shakespeare’s words words words. i’m gonna learn you a fun research exercise you can do in lieu of switching between the same four websites or even include in your research for essays and creative stuff. 

step 1. first up, you’re gonna need a play you like (or literally any work written between 1450 to let’s say 1700, but i baited you with shakespeare so.)

step 2. get you a word. it doesn’t have to necessarily be a difficult word that needs glosses. actually, it’s more fun if you take a word you think you know.

step 3: go here. see, you keep being told that the first dictionary was invented by samuel johnson in 1757. which isn’t wholly incorrect, this guy did set out to define all words. but lexicons and glossaries wayyyyyy predate johnson. the catch is, these were for difficult words. or words specific to a trade. this is actually interesting and tells us more than if all words were defined like the OED or smth. more on this soon. now type in your word and hit enter.

step 4: you will see a list of old, digitized, searchable lexicons. and it lists every instance your word is used. holy shit, you think. 

step 5: now here are some things you can assume. if your word occurs in the headword (the word being defined), then it’s a difficult word. for speakers of that time. if your word is used in definitions and explanations of other words, they were common words that didn’t need to be explained. easy words may also be on spelling books for children but again, not defined. 

step 6: okay, now what? you’ve learned the meaning of the word in context and its usage. now it’s time for conceptsssssssss. click on some translating dictionaries where this word occurs. these are more likely to have synonyms. now take a deep breath because you’ll see some wild connections. why is virginity the same as honesty of life? why does enjoy mean “to possess” something but also TO FUCK? co valences are so fun because essentially ON PURPOSE. THESE WORDS WERE CHOSEN ON PUPRPOSE.

step 7: wonder, and go back to your play. 

[just to put my credentials on the table, this is my field of research. so it’s 100% okay if you have objectively a better idea of fun. but one of my friends said this was like carbon dating words, so i’m operating under that illusion, baby.]

im really bad at conversations sorry if ive ever talked to you

Anne Carson, from “The Glass Essay” (Glass, Irony, and God)

J. Estanislao Lopez, "What the Fingers Do" [transcript in ALT]

drops this post on ur dash like i am a cat bringing u a dead bird

Cycle of Life Siliguri, India Photograph: Dimpy Bhalotia

Rained yesterday. went upstairs and sat on a wall for the best part of an hour with my legs folded and eyes closed. spiritual experience. 

Journal entries

25th June,

Pardon the hand that once wrote with astonishing impudence that sunsets were better than sunrises. I had woken early this morning with the sole purpose of watching the sun rise and stumbled drowsily up to the terrace, expecting a glaring orb of sunflower tints, but was pleasantly surprised when a golden and blue frenzy of cloud met my gaze. I caught my breath and spun around, inhaling all the delightful freshness of the dawn. The sky was entirely covered in a single expanse of white cloud, breaking away here and there to reveal some soft lavender or violent cobalt. I strolled over to a ledge and seated myself upon it, my foot dangling a few foot above the ground, preparing to lose myself in a reverie. The place where the mountains usually were was shrouded in a fog so thick that the only things visible were the glistening peaks of the far off valley. I found myself thinking of the sea, for the entire thing seemed to be an elaborate imitation of the ocean. In the indented wave of the soft white cloud, in the unpredictable changes of tint, in the light twinkling upon the slim corners of a half broken drift, in the glints of the half risen sun from behind a pale golden shroud, every where I turned, there it was. And the sun ascended leisurely, flooding the mist covered valley with a light that transformed the whole range into a dreamy golden harbour. I have fallen in love with gold, not the crude yellow of the metal, but this intoxicating hue which has now adorned the sky with its gorgeous shades. And so the prodigal son has returned, I whispered under my breath, as my eyes traced the path of a swallow across the scene. I looked at the sun until tears started to my eyes and I could no longer bear the scorching intensity of her gaze, whereupon an old friend of the squirrel tribe wandered across to say good morning and all was forgotten and I now sit here, as a cool breeze blows, twirling a loose strand of hair and writing.