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What Common, Everyday Occurrence Do You Find Strange?

You startin'?

You dancin'?

Ye're askin'?
My pint spilled your lass!*







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The fact that, as a kid, we talked about how cool it would be if you could talk to and see a person on your phone. My mom never liked this idea as she was concerned about not being presentable whenever someone might call:rolleyes:.

And now it is possible. Kids nowadays don't even know a world before this. What do they dream about?
 
As a sci-fi obsessed child, I remember working out what age I would be in the year 2000.
I genuinely thought there would be fusion power, flying cars and personal jet packs, at the very least, accompanied by video phones and computers you talk to.
Looking back now from the second decade of the 21st century, I still remember the awe I felt as we counted down to 2,000.
It is bizarre that I knew about the concept of millennialism then, and yet, I still have almost the same feeling as I look back now.
Most odd.
 
Barbeque.

I have never had any food that tasted nicer when barbequed than when it was cooked in a kitchen by grilling, baking, roasting, frying etc.

I include burgers hot dogs, chicken, lamb chops, mushrooms.

I understand why cooking outside can avoid the smell of food inside a house, and barbeque sauce is generally nice, but otherwise I just don't get it.
I'm with you on that one. It's a load of old hassle and you have to fight off insects.
 
I'm rather baffled how a cow can eat nothing but grass yet it grows to be huge, it's flesh is so dense... and filling when eaten.
Bit of a scientific epiphany for me when I realised cows only eat grass to grow up the ruminant bacteria in their stomach(s) to provide nutrition. But the bacterial protein is tiny whereas cow protein is big and the grass protein comes from sunlight and water.
 
As I recall, the ancient Maya did not distinguish between blue and green, and used one word to describe them both; I believe this has continued into modern Maya languages...
And in Russian, light blue and dark blue aren't merely shades, they are completely different colours. Which leads to the baffling conclusion that our perception of colour is influenced by the language used to describe it.
 
And in Russian, light blue and dark blue aren't merely shades, they are completely different colours. Which leads to the baffling conclusion that our perception of colour is influenced by the language used to describe it.

The scientikifickal theory is that we all perceive the same colours in the same way, it’s just that our languages have to evolve sufficiently to allow us to express the variations, and some haven’t yet.

I read about this when interested in a book title: The Wine-Dark Sea, a phrase from Homer.

maximus otter
 
As a sci-fi obsessed child, I remember working out what age I would be in the year 2000.
I genuinely thought there would be fusion power, flying cars and personal jet packs, at the very least, accompanied by video phones and computers you talk to.
Looking back now from the second decade of the 21st century, I still remember the awe I felt as we counted down to 2,000.
It is bizarre that I knew about the concept of millennialism then, and yet, I still have almost the same feeling as I look back now.
Most odd.
Can remember, in the early '70s, asking adults if there'd be a big celebration of the year 2000 because it would be the second millennium. They thought I was mad.

Even back then I'd read about people fearing the coming of the first millennium as the end of the world, and in 1966 had observed huge coverage of the 900th anniversary of the Battle of Hastings. It seemed reasonable to me that the year 2000 was pretty special, no?
Just me then. :dunno:
 
I read about this when interested in a book title: The Wine-Dark Sea, a phrase from Homer.

maximus otter
Patrick O'Brian, of course...

The idea with Homer's phrase, I imagine, is not that the sea and wine are the same colour, but that they share the same general murkiness. Then again, what colour is the sea? We say blue or green, usually, but only (I suspect) because that's what colour we've been told it is.
 
The scientikifickal theory is that we all perceive the same colours in the same way, it’s just that our languages have to evolve sufficiently to allow us to express the variations, and some haven’t yet.

I read about this when interested in a book title: The Wine-Dark Sea, a phrase from Homer.

maximus otter
And in Russian, light blue and dark blue aren't merely shades, they are completely different colours. Which leads to the baffling conclusion that our perception of colour is influenced by the language used to describe it.
I think it's a bit of both. Colours are a range of wavelengths on the electromagnetic spectrum - so far, so objective.

the-visible-light-spectrum-2699036_FINAL2-c0b0ee6f82764efdb62a1af9b9525050.png


Now the subjective bit comes where a particular culture decides to draw the dividing lines and describe a range with language. So the Maya, Chinese etc. use a word to cover a wider range - but, importantly, still a continuous range. Looking at the pic above that I shamelessly stole from someone's website, it is also notable that light blue and dark blue do look pretty distinct, so the Russians etc. are simply using their language to describe a tighter range.
 
I think it's a bit of both. Colours are a range of wavelengths on the electromagnetic spectrum - so far, so objective.

View attachment 66415

Now the subjective bit comes where a particular culture decides to draw the dividing lines and describe a range with language. So the Maya, Chinese etc. use a word to cover a wider range - but, importantly, still a continuous range. Looking at the pic above that I shamelessly stole from someone's website, it is also notable that light blue and dark blue do look pretty distinct, so the Russians etc. are simply using their language to describe a tighter range.
Yup, as a kid I seem to have had a somewhat limited 'colour vocabulary'.
Can remember calling a colour 'blue-green' because I didn't know the word turquoise.
Was also astounded to discover that maroon/burgundy was not a variety of purple.
In my 40s I was sharply corrected for saying 'salmon pink' instead of, can't remember, 'coral' or summat.
Colour theory is still not my strong point.
 
And paint manufacturers don't help. I've got Inchyra Blue (Farrow and Ball) on my bedroom wall. There is absolutely no sign of any blue whatsoever, it looks like a dark green, because of the way the light hits it. The Sage Green (Dulux Heritage) on my living room wall looks pale blue in some lights.

Tch.
 
One thing that occasionally freaks me out a bit is the idea that the hands and fingers appended to my arms are the same ones I was born with. As in, they started out tiny - barely big enough to grip my mother’s thumb - and are now big. It just seems a bit mad like when you become super-aware of feeling your own heart beating and are reminded acutely that it is the only thing keeping you alive.
 
I'm with you on that one. It's a load of old hassle and you have to fight off insects.
BBQ's tend to involve more alcohol. I've been at some great BBQ's. You wouldn't have that much fun indoors. But the food - well, I LIKE overcooked steaks and burgers. When I've had a few, anyway. Steak, shrooms, tater salad. Food of the Gods.
 
Around here people in their backyards burn citronella candles in their backyards.

I think these candles make the bugs and mosquitoes more mad and attack.

I am not a fan of backyard barbecues with bugs, heat, and uncomfortable patio fold up chairs.
 
Our throwaway society baffles me. In my house, fixing things to make them last longer is the way forward.

Especially clothing: Techy was amazed when I salvaged his favourite cycling jacket after the zip packed up. These days he's a little blasé about it all. :chuckle:

Two lovely chunky coat zips arrived yesterday, ready to replace perfectly good but not quite tough enough ones. I'm all excited. :)
 
...if you pick a fight with a gorilla you're going home in an ambulance.
That's always struck me as a strange expression.
Surely you go to hospital in an ambulance and then you go home in a friend/family member's car or a taxi?
I think in most cases you'll go to a funeral home in a hearse.

The question about how people decide that a colour they are seeing is the same one you are seeing. This question has been with me since a kid.
Knowing what color someone "sees" is a moot point. It's like trying to hear what they're thinking. What our brains do is estimate what wavelengths of light are involved based on the receptors in our eyes that are sensitive to different wavelengths. (It isn't literally saying "this is a wavelength of so and so", but you know what I mean.) Everyone has variations in exactly what wavelengths they're sensitive to, and colorblindness is an extreme example of this. After a while, everyone saying "this is red, that is blue" makes us assign the same color names to the same things, more or less.

BTW, we really don't see all wavelengths equally. There are only three (or in rare cases four) color receptors in the human eye, and we extrapolate based on the balance of stimulation among them. That's why a TV screen can show you yellow, even when no yellow light actually comes from the screen.

Not necessarily different colour perception but different colour definition. Such as is turquoise it's own colour or just a weird blue?
That, too - as some have explained with language examples above. Some believe that culturally we don't really perceive a color until someone assigns a name to it - often once a pigment is available to replicate it.

Barbeque.

I have never had any food that tasted nicer when barbequed than when it was cooked in a kitchen by grilling, baking, roasting, frying etc.

I include burgers hot dogs, chicken, lamb chops, mushrooms.

I understand why cooking outside can avoid the smell of food inside a house, and barbeque sauce is generally nice, but otherwise I just don't get it.
You - and others - are confusing barbeque with outdoor grilling.

Outdoor grilling is more about the social atmosphere, and the flavor can vary greatly based on the fuel, any flavoring - spices or smoke - and the exact technique used. Of course personal preference is in play here.

True barbeque is very slow cooking with indirect heat, usually with some kind of heavy spice or sauce. There are many varieties, but all create something very different from grilling, and most of it is quite tasty.
 
Regarding my comment above on Japanese traffic lights- there is an article about it here that some may find interesting;

This Is Why Japan Has Blue Traffic Lights Instead of Green​






This is what happens when you have one word for two colors.


traffic-light


It’s a lesson most of us learn years before we’re old enough to see over the dashboard: Red means stop, green means go. Simple enough. But what happens when you live in a culture where green also means blue? (By the way, this is why our own traffic light colours are red, yellow, and green.)
Drive around Japan long enough and you’ll probably run into one of the country’s mythical blue traffic lights. Elsewhere around the island you’ll find “go” signals that are decidedly teal, turquoise, and aqua. “Is this signal broken?” you might wonder. “Did some overworked light-monger install the wrong bulbs?” The answer is not in the wiring: it’s in the Japanese language.

Hundreds of years ago, the Japanese language included words for only four basic colors: black, white, red, and blue. If you wanted to describe something green, you’d use the word for blue—“ao”—and that system worked well enough until roughly the end of the first millennium, when the word “midori” (originally meaning “sprout”) began showing up in writing to describe what we know as green. Even then, midori was considered a shade of ao. As you can imagine, this sudden switch-over had lasting effects in Japan. One of the most popular forms of Japanese wordplay is numeric substitution—writing numerals in place of words or letters with the same phonetic value.

Today you’ll still see green things dubiously labeled blue. A fruit vendor might sell you an ao-ringo (blue apple) only to disappoint you that it’s actually green. Likewise, green bamboos are called aodake (“blue bamboos”) and an inexperienced employee who could be described as “green” in America may be called aonisai, meaning a “blue two-year-old.” And that brings us to traffic lights.

Initially, Japan’s traffic lights were green as green can be. Despite this, the country’s official traffic documents still referred to green traffic lights as ao rather than midori. While international traffic law decrees all “go” signals must be represented by green lights, Japanese linguists objected to their government’s decision to continue using the word ao to describe what was clearly midori. The government decided to compromise. “In 1973, the government mandated through a cabinet order that traffic lights use the bluest shade of green possible—still technically green, but noticeably blue enough to justifiably continue using the ao nomenclature.

So, while it may appear that Japan uses blue traffic lights, the government assures us it’s actually just a very blue shade of green—green enough to satisfy international regulations, blue enough to still be called ao. Don’t ever say bureaucracy never solved anything.

Source: https://www.rd.com/article/heres-japan-blue-traffic-lights/
 
And paint manufacturers don't help. I've got Inchyra Blue (Farrow and Ball) on my bedroom wall. There is absolutely no sign of any blue whatsoever, it looks like a dark green, because of the way the light hits it. The Sage Green (Dulux Heritage) on my living room wall looks pale blue in some lights.

Tch.
I love green so much that I used to take home one each of all the green shade cards from B&Q to enjoy later. :cool:
 
Regarding my comment above on Japanese traffic lights- there is an article about it here that some may find interesting;

This Is Why Japan Has Blue Traffic Lights Instead of Green​






This is what happens when you have one word for two colors.


traffic-light


It’s a lesson most of us learn years before we’re old enough to see over the dashboard: Red means stop, green means go. Simple enough. But what happens when you live in a culture where green also means blue? (By the way, this is why our own traffic light colours are red, yellow, and green.)
Drive around Japan long enough and you’ll probably run into one of the country’s mythical blue traffic lights. Elsewhere around the island you’ll find “go” signals that are decidedly teal, turquoise, and aqua. “Is this signal broken?” you might wonder. “Did some overworked light-monger install the wrong bulbs?” The answer is not in the wiring: it’s in the Japanese language.

Hundreds of years ago, the Japanese language included words for only four basic colors: black, white, red, and blue. If you wanted to describe something green, you’d use the word for blue—“ao”—and that system worked well enough until roughly the end of the first millennium, when the word “midori” (originally meaning “sprout”) began showing up in writing to describe what we know as green. Even then, midori was considered a shade of ao. As you can imagine, this sudden switch-over had lasting effects in Japan. One of the most popular forms of Japanese wordplay is numeric substitution—writing numerals in place of words or letters with the same phonetic value.

Today you’ll still see green things dubiously labeled blue. A fruit vendor might sell you an ao-ringo (blue apple) only to disappoint you that it’s actually green. Likewise, green bamboos are called aodake (“blue bamboos”) and an inexperienced employee who could be described as “green” in America may be called aonisai, meaning a “blue two-year-old.” And that brings us to traffic lights.

Initially, Japan’s traffic lights were green as green can be. Despite this, the country’s official traffic documents still referred to green traffic lights as ao rather than midori. While international traffic law decrees all “go” signals must be represented by green lights, Japanese linguists objected to their government’s decision to continue using the word ao to describe what was clearly midori. The government decided to compromise. “In 1973, the government mandated through a cabinet order that traffic lights use the bluest shade of green possible—still technically green, but noticeably blue enough to justifiably continue using the ao nomenclature.

So, while it may appear that Japan uses blue traffic lights, the government assures us it’s actually just a very blue shade of green—green enough to satisfy international regulations, blue enough to still be called ao. Don’t ever say bureaucracy never solved anything.

Source: https://www.rd.com/article/heres-japan-blue-traffic-lights/
Fun experiment with a Japanese chap in this YouTube video, who describes the colour as green, right up until it's put into the context of traffic lights.


Thinking about English, describing this as a glass of white wine seems a bit strange:

wine.png


At least the Portuguese have the sense to call it Vinho Verde.
 
And paint manufacturers don't help. I've got Inchyra Blue (Farrow and Ball) on my bedroom wall. There is absolutely no sign of any blue whatsoever, it looks like a dark green, because of the way the light hits it. The Sage Green (Dulux Heritage) on my living room wall looks pale blue in some lights...

I wonder though, if you put that colour next to another green - or another blue - if you might then start seeing the blue.

I've just finished repainting my bathroom and - as usual - I tied myself in knots looking for the right colours, many of which look totally different in different light conditions or when placed next to another. And paradoxically, although the colour I finally chose really looks like it should make the room appear darker than the one it replaced, the room actually now feels much, much brighter than it ever did.

Colour is one of those things that I think we all assume we know more about than we do, simply because of its ubiquity in our lives.

Josef Albers - artist and colour theorist - wrote the following in his book, Interaction of Colour:

...In visual perception a colour is almost never seen as it really is—as it physically is. This fact makes colour the most relative medium in art. In order to use colour effectively it is necessary to recognize that colour deceives continually...

The book is full of examples of how we are continually 'tricked' by colour (using visual examples others might call 'optical illusions' - although I'm not sure Albers ever uses the phrase himself). I'd recommend the book - it's very readable, actually rather beautiful, and not at all the dry and exclusive work of art-theory one might assume.
 
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