The feeling of dreams

We millenia-old semi-mythical dog types spend a lot of time weaving through dreams, the subconscious and the unconscious. It's in the job description. So, when, a couple of days ago, Japanese scientists announced that they'd taken tentative steps to 'read' images in people's brains and display them, I raised an eyebrow. The mechanics involve a lot of big expensive, cool science-y stuff, described in science-y language, but there's a slightly simpler translation here.

The commentary I've seen so far is along the lines of "Cool! In ten years I can show my friends my dreams! In Technicolor®™!"

Does anybody else feel alarmed?

Until now, we coyotes assumed that our thoughts and dreams were very private things, unless we ourselves chose to describe them to somebody else. Considering some of the things I've thought, that's a comfort. Because the idea that others might see them leads my thoughts down a very dark Orwellian alley. Coyote's 116th Law states if such a tool exists, somebody, somewhere, will find a way to misuse it, probably in the name of something like, oh, homeland security. The corollary to Coyote's 116th Law is that such equipment will eventually be consumerized, be manufactured in quantity and then fall into the hands of officious masses of un- or under-trained idiots who think they know what they're doing, simply because they're packing the gear and had a half-day workshop. Think airport security screeners. Or Tasers.

You may also be thinking that the paranoid doggy dreams of imaginary monsters under his bed, but that leads to my point. My dreams are mine, and you very probably can't understand them unless you are me. I don't know what you dream, of a night, when your paws scrabble as if you're chasing bunnies across a pristine prairie, but I'm not convinced that somebody else peeking in on the complicated swirl of oddly dis/un/connected images that is a dream is gonna interpret it with any reliability. I have trouble articulating it because of the nature of dreams themselves, but I suspect that they are far more about individual background, context and feeling than about a fragmentary movie playing on a voyeur's monitor. Without the associated feelings the movie is really out of focus. I also suspect that any equipment freak who thinks he can parse 'em in anything other than the crudest way can dream on. In Technicolor®™.

Breaking News. . .

Major transit strike + major snowstorm = excellent timing.

I blame Larry. But I always do...

Tank Top Tuesday

Green mesh sweater, green tank top, black bra

Crowing Cock

I call Dwarfie for advice and he answers with his usual crusty this better be important grunt for a salutation.

"Hi, Dwarfie, I'm confused about something. Do you have a minute?"

"What's up, Toots?"

"I was reading Tiana's blog, and for the second time she mentions that her son has a giant cock. I can't explain it, but it bothers me to read that."

"That's because a cock is something you have sex with..."

"That's it," I respond relieved, "and on a baby..."

"You'd call it something else."

Familiar Bedfellows

With all this talk of strange bedfellows this past week, I've been reminded of the problem some of you have with not knowing what to call the person that you live with and to whom you are not legally married.

I'm told "boyfriend" and "girlfriend" aren't suitable because they sound juvenile and don't reveal there is a shared domicile and commitment to the future.

"Partner" is no good because people assume you are gay if you are straight or they think you are talking about someone who you're in business with.

By turning to the web, I have found a plethora of words and phrases you can use instead of "spouse equivalent", "significant other" or "person of the opposite sex sharing living quarters". First, here are some I found checking various reference sources:

• My conjugal relation [As opposed to your brother who would be your fraternal relation]
• My conjugate [Mathematical: the person who rationalizes the denominators of your fractions, is the root of your polynomial function, and who can be joined to you by a 1-parameter family of geodesics.]
• Mon conjoint; ma conjointe [Means legally married in French, but if spoken with a heavy Franco-Ontarien accent won't give anyone the impression there is anything legal about what goes on between the two of you.]
• The person who is developing an equitable right to my property [Legal #1, problematic because in addition to not being romantic, I'm told it could also apply to someone who is doing extensive renovations on your property with an unwritten promise of having an ownership share.]
• The person through whom I am eligible for dental benefits and an extended-health plan [This is at least unambiguous if you're over 25; on the other hand, you should be calling someone like this "my treasure of incalculable worth".]
• My intimate companion [Cloying unless you're a pair of entirely platonic friends from the early 1800s].
• The person with whom I am in a relationship of some permanence [Legal #2 - see Ontario's Family Law Act, Part 3].

Of course, some of our favourite bloggers (or ex-bloggers) have terms they like to use. Harmony used to use the saucy "my lovah", Hella Stella talks about her "BH", and J spells it out and calls A her "better half" from time to time.

Unfortunately for my research, most local bloggers seem to be either living without conjugal partners or purport to be actually married. Nevertheless, it was by going through blogs of people who are living with another person without the sanction of church or state that I found the word that I think should be claimed by the unwed.

I had been calling up archive pages and doing a ctrl-F for "my " to find possible alternative terms, but on the blog of J's better half A, The Adventures of your Mom, I found a term I think is perfect just by reading the second most recent posting:

So homeslice Paul and I went to pickup (sic) his new 49 burger capacity BBQ. Of course no mojor (sic) purchase goes without issue at Crappy Tire[.] (sic)

I had been reading so many blogs at this point that I forgot whose blog I was reading. The title made me think I was reading a mommy blog and I figured Paul must be the mommy's conjugal relation. "Homeslice," I thought, "what a great word!"

Imagine my disappointment when I realized that this was not some suburban mom talking about her bbq loving man, but instead tough guy A referring to his completely het pal. Then I went to the Urban Dictionary and confirmed that "homeslice" is a synonym for "homeboy" or "homie" that is favoured by caucasian youths.

But my disappointment doesn't have to last and you can help. I've submitted a new definition of "homeslice" to the Urban Dictionary. If the editors accept it, it will show up soon. Probably on page 4. If enough of you click the thumbs-up, it will move up, maybe even to #1.