The horse named Degeneration pulls into the lead

When I was looking for an image of a horse drawn carriage with the horses rearing up, I found this Currier and Ives print. Nothing like the bucolic scenes of a perfect Christmas time here. I had no idea that Currier and Ives indulged in such bigotry (click on the picture to see it in detail to get a full impact). Here is a link to a scholarly site about the "dirty secret" of Currier and Ives, along with plenty of images, and this disclaimer at the top:
Disclaimer:
"Be aware that the words, descriptions, and images from Currier & Ives Darktown Comics series are considered racially offensive by today's standards."

In the horse drawn carriage of my imagination I'm sitting in, we suddenly come to a huge crevasse in the earth. If the driver didn't pull back on the reins hard enough, we would plummet to our deaths. He does, and the horse rears up, whinnying. It is all so very classic. Just like in a movie. I've never seen this in real llife.

No matter. It is a mental picture of the feeling I'm having that this blog is quickly degenerating into a place where I come to unload my crapola.

Slang break:
crap·o·la (kr-pl)
n. Vulgar Slang
Rubbish; nonsense.
[crap + -ola (probably modeled on trade names like Shinola, a brand of shoe polish).]

This is not what I wanted to happen, but it's an easy chasm for me to fall into. Thus, I am pulling on the reins, for I don't want that horse named "Degeneration" to win this race (or to fall to its death, along with its passengers, which includes this blogger and perhaps a reader or two).

As a respite from my crankiness, I offer you the following: In spite of the snow on the ground, spring is evidencing itself in the sound of birds. I heard the distinctive call of the Red-winged Blackbird a few days ago. DIck reports that he saw a few Robins across the road from us.

I saw some greenish grass in my back yard for the first time in at least five months.

And that is the end of my post. You get a beautiful Japanese wookblock print,"Camellia in Snow and Sparrows" by Utagawa Hiroshige, as a bonus for this post that started with such distasteful imagery.

It's all in the translation

I was wondering if French had more words for scent than English. What I discovered is that all our words for scent are pretty much the same as in French. This is the extent of my investigation for the evening. I could track down the origins of these words, but. . .

parfum smell, scent
odeur f noun
scent, perfume
senteur f noun

. . .there is another word that came up on the Google translation page: Piste. It means a scent trail or track (of an animal, I presume, but understanding this means more investigation. . .

And now, on a completely different topic, but one that will not be in English, here are some of the cranky (and absurd) thoughts that I allowed myself to indulge in earlier this evening, after a particularly disturbing day:

Deutsch scheint wie eine gute Sprache, um meine Gedanken in den meisten hässlich. Das ist schrecklich. Ich vermute, es ist, weil ich die Sprache assoziieren mit Nazis.

Auf der anderen Seite, wenn ich ein Kind war, meine Mutter zu mir ins Bett tuck während sagen: "Gute Nacht und süße Träume".

Das ist einer der wenigen schönen Erinnerungen habe ich von ihr als Zahlungsmittel.

Aber das ist nicht relevant. Frühere diesem Abend, ich habe diese wild absurden Gedanken in der deutschen Sprache. Hier sind ein paar Beispiele für Ihr Vergnügen:

Die meisten Menschen sind insgesamt Idioten, und ich bin krank.

Wenn Frauen in der Gruppe, es gibt einfach viel zu viel Östrogen. Ich kann es kaum stand.

Ich bin krank und müde von Machismo und die fragile männliche Ego.

Manchmal denke ich, wir sollten doch einfach mal vorbei eine neue, spezialisierte Neutronenbombe dies bedeuten würde, dass nur die schöne Architektur.

Rid den Planeten von allen Menschen, die können nichts tun, außer zu töten und Vergewaltigung einander und den Planeten, und lassen die Erde zu flicken und neigen dazu, sich.

That's quite enough for one night.