Ante litteras: Populo et popularitate panis et picturae sunt.I literally lolled! By that, I mean: I
lazily,
oafishly
laid about without bothering to wheel out youtube-dl so that I could—
say what!? How do you find these things? Thank you, xtraelv. :-)
As for the pic, LOL.
Anyway, if I were
American, I’d take Tweedledum. No, wait—Tweedledee. No— I can’t decide!
I think the correct choice is
neither.
This is why I say:
Don’t vote. By voting, you grant your moral and practical political endorsements to a corrupt system: An
ochlocracy manipulated by a
plutocracy. The result is
kakocracy: Rule of the worst.If you vote, then you are part of the problem.
Man and TechnicsI believe nullius has a more optimistic view of the future than I do.
— Spengler (writing most of a hundred years ago)
GazetaBitcoin’s well-researched OP led me to many interesting posts that I had not seen,
e.g.:~snip~
I should point out that I'm one of the six people in the known universe who hasn't actually watched Game of Thrones
~snip~
Make it Seven :-P
I have no idea what the hack is this Game of Thrones all about? :-)
I don’t have a
television... or a smartphone.
Keeping up with
the theme:
* nullius illum miseret
+5 to the first adequately to explain the pun that I just made. This offer is time-limited to 24 hours from the posting hereof.Ph.D is a term used in the Anglophone world as shorthand for Philosopiae doctor, or doctor in philosophy.
The term Philosophy comes from the Latin word “philosophĭa”, which is derived from the Greek word ϕιλoσoϕία, whose roots are φιλεῖν (phileîn- to love) and «σoϕία» (sophia-knowledge).
So the first and most ethanol ogi al correct meaning of philosopher is “knowledge lover”. Definitely someone who shouldn’t need to lookup in a dictionary how to spell his title.
+1 for thinking it through from abstract first principles, and for the correct etymology
τῆς φῐλoσoφῐᾱς—to which I will add that in Latin,
doctor means ‘teacher’: Thus, one entitled
philosophiae doctor is not only a lover of wisdom, but a teacher of the love of wisdom, It is (or ought be) a degree only for those rare minds and rarefied souls who truly advance the state of the arts.
Whereas my point here was more as to the historical implications:
* nullius condemns and contemns the award of so-called “Ph.D.” degrees to anybody who cannot spell philosophiae doctor without looking it up in a dictionary—or who cannot readily explain the origins and meaning of the term.
From the Renaissance until the early Twentieth Century, a university education meant a liberal education (
in the now-archaic sense of that word!),
id est scholarship
humanitatis (
iterum dico!), that had as a basic
undergraduate requirement of facility in the Graeco-Roman classics, and especially a consummate mastery of Latin.
Never mind a Ph.D.: No sheepskin at all for you, unless you know Latin far better than I do!
Observe that the scientific, medical, and other scholarly jargons are loaded with Latin and Greek words.
Who nowadays pauses to ask why, as did I when I was yet young? The men who originated these words were not
pretentious dolts kludging up fancy-looking stuff from the dictionary just to show off: They actually knew Latin and Greek; and they naturally identified new concepts in the languages of the educated classes. Indeed, if you wish to study the history of early modern science from primary sources, then you must prepare to encounter whole scientific treatises written from cover to cover in a fluent neoclassical Latin.
Anyway, none of this was relevant to the pun for which I offered +5:
Nullius illum miseret, si scribere 'Philosophiæ’ non scit
I would add that to my forum signature, if but only it had the spare space!
Of course, the pun is that I made it look to the naïve reader as if I had said, “Nullius pities him”—whereas in a post wherein I had alluded to stock phrases, I used a handy stock phrase meaning, “He pities nobody.”
Nullius: nullius illum miseret!
I have had a miserable time struggling to grasp the proper use of the word
miseret. A classicist could help; but alas, I am only a classist, not a classicist.
nullius is genitive, and
illum is accusative—and
miseret is an irregular verb with no conjugations outside the third person (plus infinitives, etc.). Also
n.b. that in classical Latin,
nullius is an adjective, not a substantive. I will presently clarify my use thereof.
Untangling
that is left as an exercise to the reader.
* nullius wavius handius ;-)
Official Cases of “Nullius”In classical Latin, as aforesaid, “nullius” is used as an adjective, not a noun. However, it can be properly construed and inflected as a noun. By analogy to the inspiration of my
nomen,
Octavius (later known as
Imperator Caesar Divi f. Augustus), here are the official cases of my name in the second declension:
| Nominative | Nullius |
| Genitive | Nullii |
| Dative | Nullo |
| Accusative | Nullium |
| Ablative | Nullio |
| Vocative | Nulli |
Macrons are omitted, for I am lolling about lazily—and my Xorg keyboard layout (—for all its “fancy” Unicode®—) seems to have been designed by somebody with no use for the macron.
Hmmm. Laura has been addressing me as “Nully”, which seems quite close to the grammatically correct Latin vocative.
Does the cat speak enciphered Latin?Whilst travelling on business in Carpathia,
I doxed Lauda:
And thus, with my first bump in Activity Period 1308, I hereby shall be wreathed with the rank of
Senior Member as soon as the activity system updates.
Cheers.
Zu lange wohl lebte ich im Gebirge, zu viel horchte ich auf Bäche und Bäume: nun rede ich ihnen gleich den Ziegenhirten.
Unbewegt ist meine Seele und hell wie das Gebirge am Vormittag. Aber sie meinen, ich sei kalt und ein Spötter in furchtbaren Spässen.
Und nun blicken sie mich an und lachen: und indem sie lachen, hassen sie mich noch. Es ist Eis in ihrem Lachen.
