Showing posts with label poop. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poop. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Pot Edward Island II

I'm back from vacation, with lots of stories to tell about how I covered more of this country by air in the last two weeks than anyone should.

Sadly (or happily, depending on your point of view) I have a ton of work to catch up on, but I did want to show you this from the National Post, where the guy who wrote the Pot Edward Island article tries to defend himself.... funny stuff:

The author of an article in a Boston newspaper that claimed Prince Edward Island was a marijuana paradise has fired back at Canadians who derided his story as wildly inaccurate.

Alan Earls, a reporter for the Boston Phoenix weekly, had described P. E. I. as "Pot Edward Island," and claimed among other things that it has become a haven for dope growers fuelled by cheap Quebec electricity.

In reality, P. E. I. gets most of its power from New Brunswick, and Denis Morin, and RCMP spokesman quoted in the article about the seizure of increasing amounts of marijuana in the province later said that the figures were "quite minor in the scale of things for P. E. I. and Canada."

In a response to his critics in Monday's edition of the newspaper, Mr. Earls said they were motivated by "anger that a dumb American would have the audacity to find fault with anything Canadian (it is tough, I'll admit), let alone anything having to do with Canada's garden spot, P. E. I."


Fuck you too.

EDITED TO ADD:

I found his full response on the website of the self-agrandizing rag he writes for. I feel compelled, in the interest of fairness, to share it all.... which is more accurate or fair than this hack was:

ALAN R. EARLES RESPONDS
Prince Edward Island is probably the nicest place I’ve ever visited. There, I’ve said it. Unfortunately, when I’ve traveled there (twice, in 2006 and 2008), I have also discovered that, despite the fact that it looks like paradise, it has problems just like other places. In particular, the provincial newspapers have had quite a few stories about local pot growers. So, I got interested and wrote an article for the Phoenix about this aspect of PEI that is not well known to outsiders and which, in fact, probably should worry islanders.

Folks up north nailed me on a couple of reporting errors — like my statement that PEI imports “cheap” electricity from Quebec (it actually comes from New Brunswick). I was also told repeatedly by Canadian critics that I had named the wrong person as director of the PEI Federation of Agriculture. After re-checking my facts, however, I found that I was indeed right and my friends in Canada were wrong: the holder of the title is in fact Mike Nabuurs (though I did miss the last two consonants on his name in my piece — sorry Mike!).

The article was not meant to suggest that PEI has become a giant exporter of pot or a major narcotics haven north of the border. Rather, the point was to contrast an ongoing and seemingly worsening situation with PEI’s image as a clean, peaceful, and serene destination. That this situation could worsen or could impact the larger picture of drug trafficking in New England and in the Maritimes seems implicit. The minor factual errors in the story do not undercut the accuracy of this message.


The errors weren't "minor", they were throughout the entire story, and most of the premise. He tries to sound like the "cheap" electricity comes from New Brunswick, when in fact, it just isn't cheap.

See that Colbertesque truthiness at work. Say you got the name wrong, not the entire idea of the cheap electricity.

From the tortured prose in the original, and the slick ass covering in the response, this clown is the sort of guy I warn people about... the reporter with the story already written in their head before they even talk to anyone.

Now, on to my vacation stories.

Friday, December 21, 2007

Don't ask me, I just work here

OK, so it isn't quite as bad as that, but I am the worst resource for Inuktitut you can find.

Statcounter has taught me that most of the hits on my blog are coming from people searching out words in Inuktitut. I pick up what I can, but listening to me is dangerous.

I offer you this example:

My brother-in-common-law was ready to slap me for a particularly bad bit of Inuktitut. Over time, he has gone from listing the reasons he has to shoot me to listing the reasons he has NOT to shoot me, so that is progress.

The word for uncle is OOH-NACK. The word for poop is AAH-NACK. I was telling my step-son to go see his Uncle, and his girls kept laughing at me as he grew more frustrated. I was calling him Poop instead of Uncle. The kids thought it was great, he was less amused.

Another example:

Iqaluit means "place of many fishes". The southern audience says it ICK-CAL-EH-WIT. The Inuit is more like ICK-QUAL-AH-WEET. You need to get your guttural Inuktitut Q in there.

The southern way of saying it means "a shitty, dirty, asshole". It is a butt possessed by someone with very poor personal hygeine. Subtle difference in pronounciation, but a big deal in how you say things.

So, I present you this, all you Googlers out there:

http://www.livingdictionary.com/main.jsp

This is what the Department of Culture, Language, Elders and Youth sends you too, so I'm going to go with them.

Friday, November 23, 2007

Inuktitut


This is what Inuktitut looks like (I stole this from another northern blog, thanks Jen)
I know about 15 words for sure, and a few others I can work out. Here are a few spelled phonetically, because as you can see above, those symbols are a handful.
AH-TEE: Hurry up, let's go, go ahead
TAY-MA: Stop, knock it off
AHK-KAH: Stop
ILL-KNEE: Son
ILL-KNEE-LA: Youngest son
PAN-IC: Daughter (no kidding, panic)
CAN-YOU-WEEP-IT: Hey, how's it going?
CAN-YOU-LING-EH: I'm good, and you?
OO-LA-KOOT: Good morning
OO-NOOK-SAW-KOOT: Good afternoon
OO-NOOK-KOOT: Good evening
EEE: Yes
EEE-KEY: I'm cold
OOO-LU: a women's knife
SAH-VICK: A man's knife
TOOK-TOO: Caribou
NAN-NOCK: Polar Bear
AH-NOCK: Poop
AH-MAU-TICK: A traditional baby carrying jacket
A-MA-MOCK: How a baby eats
A-MOCK: Putting a baby in an amautiq
E-BAB-OX: Eat
COY-AN-A-MEEK: Thank you
MAH-LOOCH: Marijuana
AH-KA-LUUK: I love you
EYE-TAR: This is shit
MUCK-TAHK: Whale blubber, tasty whale blubber
PEEF-FI: Dried fish, usually char, tasty char
IG-OOH-KNOCK: Walrus meat fermented in a hole in the ground
CALL-OOH-KNOCK: White guy
ACK-SARN-NITE: Northern Lights
KA-MICKS: Traditional footware
Keep in mind, those words change from region to region, and dialect to dialect. NAH-KO-MEEK means thank you on Baffin Island, buy COY-AN-A-MEEK works all over the territory.
The catchiest cultural bit is eyes open and eyes narrow. All you have to do to say yes is open your eyes wide, and to say no you make them small. With my eyebrows, I always feel like I'm shouting when I do that. I worked in an office with three other white folk, and one day we realized that we were all doing the eye open/shut thing. It is darn catchy.