[personal profile] rugessnome asked me a great question:
so, I only followed you recently but I presume hollymath is a play on polymath*. Would you like to talk about how that came about/what it is if not, OR your feelings on the concept of being a polymath, OR polyamorist(? Is this in use?)/general queer puns?

*I also wondered if it referred to actual math but I'm also really interested in linguistics so hey!
People who've known me elsewhere or for long enough know that I have a habit of puns based on Holly. My LJ was holly_lama for many years (which got confusing when I came to the UK where they pronounce Dalai differently so it doesn't rhyme so they don't get it's a pun). My twitter is hollyamory which seems so basic but I love the misunderstandings of it too; I remember early on someone said they misread it as "holly army," which made [personal profile] diffrentcolours make a joke about a Seven Holly Army, and then [personal profile] miss_s_b said something like "I think a seven Holly army could do pretty much watever it wanted." Also last year my friend Zoe, who'd known me a long time and who's polyamorous herself so it's not like she's unfamiliar with the concept, heard the name out loud and only then did she get it; she said she'd been internally reading it as something like "Balamory."

I like hollymath as a pun on polymath, a word that fascinated me when I first learned it as a kid and I really did want to do everything and could never focus on one single tihng which was increasingly perceived as a character flaw as I got into high school and it was time to specialize. I was bad at specializing, so "polymath" appealed to me a lot.

But I didn't think of "polymath" as relating to me (despite other "poly" puns like hollyamory) until my friend Kat talked on Facebook about two of her friends having such similar names it kept momentarily confusing her, and one was me. The other was also named Holly and had a last name that starts "Math-", so Kat started calling us the Holly Maths (my last name isn't exactly spelled "math" at the beginning but it sounds like that). Only then did it occur to me that "hollymath" would make a good username, so here it is.

Now that I tell all these stories, I see a couple of patterns are emerging!
  • I like puns. I'm assured this was a very 90s queer thing, at least in the UK. All the bi groups had punny names, the only one of which is still going is "mine," Biphoria. (The newer groups are called things like "Brum Bi Group" which is probably less confusing but maybe less fun too.)
  • I know a lot of people who've had a consistent online identity for decades but I have never been one of them (even to the point where I'm sad I "wasted" a good one (oddly, not a pun and doesn't include holly) on a brief stint on OKCupid, and yes I could use it again but I always think of something new that seems like a good idea at the time; I just realized another good one yesterday and have no new accounts to use it on!)
  • but also a lot of these stories that stick with me seem to be about the names confusing or misleading people, which is not intentional but does seem to keep happening!
I'm probably too clever for my own good. It's one reason I like "hollymath" though; people who know my IRL name hopefully find it easier to remember.

Feel free to suggest more December topics for me if you like!
Like I said yesterday, [personal profile] silveradept asked me for "A useful thing you have learned by studying linguistics."

They asked separately about the IPA, which is always my immediate thought when I think about useful linguistics things. I wish everybody was taught it in high school. And I've written about that before too, so I won't go into that again.

So let's see...what else have I learned that's useful? I'm going to talk about two things from pragmatics: phatic communication, and Grice's maxims.

I know a lot of neurodiverse people, and a lot of them struggle with phatic communication (link is to a Tom Scott video on the subject), finding "small talk" difficult and confusing. I think if people explicitly knew more about it, why it exists and what function it serves, it might seem less annoying and pointless, and hopefully might even be easier to navigate once people recognize its uses.

Things like greeting someone with a question that you don't expect a complex and unique answer to (like "you alright?" or "what's up?") aren't pointless. They acknowledge the other person, indicate that you're interested in starting a conversation with them, We can, even in languages like English that lack other grammatical ways of doing this, establish a hierarchy: we might not have "tu" and "vous" to do this like French, or the many ways of addressing someone in a language like Japanese, but we can indicate how we relate to somebody by whether we greet them with "hey" or "hello" or "excuse me" or whatever.

Phatic expressions also help with turn-taking in conversation: a lot of the "mmm"s and "yeah"s and so on that we say to show we're listening to someone and also, often, that they've paused or come to the end of a sentence, where we could start talking, but we've chosen to encourage them to go on. When we want to speak, there might be other "yeah"s or "oh"s we use, but they don't usually sound the same. These kinds of verbal clues are especially important to me, since I can't see facial expression or body langauge clues that somoene wants to speak or not (I do tend to talk over people because of this, which I hate and have anxiety about, so if I do it to you I'm

This reminds me of Grice's maxims. Paul Grice was a philosopher who came up with the cooperative principle, which says that we expect, and try to offer, certain kinds of cooperation from people we're in a conversation with. Grice came up with four kinds: quality, manner, relevance and quantity.
  1. The maxim of quality says we don't say things we believe to be false or that we can't back up with evidence. We want to believe that people know what tbey're talking about, that they're not lying or misinformed. Otherwise we're wasting our time talking with them, and probably frustrating ourselves.
  2. The maxim of manner says we talk in a way appropriate for the people we're talking to. This means
    • using words we think they'll understand (I explain, for example, my white cane much differently to toddlers than to bus drivers)
    • using only as many words as we need
    • avoiding ambiguity
    • talking about things in a sensible order -- whether that's chronological, or here where I'm talking about the four maxims one at a time, and here talking about the four things Grice says we need in order to be "appropriate."
  3. The maxim of relevance has a clue in the name: be relevant. We don't expect non-sequiturs in conversation (being rare is one of the things that allows them to be funny; they're tiresome if they happen too often). Often if something seems like a non-sequitur, we'll give the person the benefit of the doubt a bit because we expect relevance and are generally willing to politely hang in there a little to see if "Twelve years ago, I got really drunk one day..." ends up being an answer to our question about someone's job. But it does put some strain on the conversation, we like nice straightforward relevance better.
  4. The maxim of quantity is the last one. This says you should be as informative as you need to be, and no more so. So if someone asks me if I like where I live and I say "I like some things about it," I'm giving them the information that there are also things I don't like. But if I don't want to go into that, because it's more polite to be positive, I can offer that information without detaling my dislikes.
You certainly don't have to remember all of Grice's maxims -- when I was telling Andrew the other day that autistic people could benefit from them, not only could I only remember three of them, I was convinced that there only were three -- the point is that these aren't rules Grice is telling us to follow, but patterns he'd noticed in how people already behave.

But we're mostly not conscious of it, and that can lead us to being annoyed not just when this assumption of cooperation breaks down. Even if we can't fix the people around us, it sometimes helps to put our finger on why talking to them bugs us, and it definitely helps if we know what cooperation looks like.

Feel free to suggest more December topics for me if you like!
[profile] zhelena asked me the same question as last year for the first of the month, "thing you are most looking forward to this month." It's a shame this meme is done in December because in other months I would have more interesting answers to give but I'm afraid in December it's always going to be the same:

New Year's Eve in Brighouse. It's been a tradition for Andrew and me for many years now. After the effort and stress of traveling and Christmas with my family, I think we both appreciate even more time with some of our favorite people (and dogs), food we actually like, and being able to be ourselves again.

I dislike December so much, my favorite thing is always it ending.

In other news from Brighouse, I noticed about a week ago that Facebook was starting to "suggest" me events that are much more suited to [personal profile] diffrentcolours: first "go see the Damned at this festival in Whitby!" and then "go to this Sisters of Mercy gig!"

So yesterday when we were helping with the house move, he comes down the stairs from [personal profile] matgb's room and says "I have a present for you on my arm. Along with the box or whatever he was carrying, he'd draped this faded black fabric over his arm. I picked it up and it was a Sisters of Mercy hoodie. Apparently Mat had found it in his room and couldn't wear it any more so asked [personal profile] diffrentcolours if he wanted it, and he said it would probably fit me instead, and that I should have it because I'm such a Sisters of Mercy fan.

The hoodie is comfy and warm. But, as I protested at the time, I am only a Sisters of Mercy fan if it's a Leonard Cohen song. (It's a song I particularly loved when I first got obsessed with Leonard Cohen, actually. I even wrote a little essay about it.)

Feel free to suggest more December topics for me if you like!
Somehow it's nearly December? Which means December Days! This is a meme where people can request prompts for someone to write about a particular topic on a day in December. And since I've committed myself to writing something every day, feel free to help me think of things! You can request a certain day in the month for your prompt (I like to suggest my birthday since that's in December and then it's like I get little presents if people can do it) if you want to but you don't have to.
Best moment of the month, suggested by [profile] zhelena

Yep I was right. I've written an essay, I'm done with lectures, I survived the festivities (as they apparently ask in German), I'm done feeling lonely because I'm around some of the best people, and this is the first time all month I've been able to say that.

And [personal profile] miss_s_b has just handed me a basil smash. My favorite drink discovery this year. Life is good.
Favourite thing(s) I ate this year, suggested by [personal profile] nou

I think what I'm about to suggest is what I made myself for dinner the day [personal profile] nou made this suggestion.

Because I remember thinking "this is my favorite thing I've eaten this year!" And then telling myself no no Holly, that's just recency bias. You love restaurants and takeaways and other people cooking for you; surely you can think of something you've eaten this year, this whole year, that's better than this.

But for some reason, this kale with tahini dressing is what has stood out. It's one of the things I missed most while I was at my parents being deprived of protein and vegetables. And I made it for myself again today. It makes at least two main-meal sized servings for me, but I ate them both up because it tasted so good.

In May, I wrote up my version of this recipe for the [community profile] weekly_food_challenge here.
The UN's International Day of Migrants is December 18, so [personal profile] marjorie_bark asked me to write something about this today.

In March 2017, a group of End Deportations members blocked a deportation flight from Stansted Airport.

Just last week, this Stansted 15 were charged with "endangering the safety of an airport," under anti-terror legislation brought in after Lockerbie so it carries huge potential sentences: up to life imprisonment. All for stopping a charter flight from taking off in a peaceful protest.

Protests have been planned for today in many UK cities, including Brighton, Glasgow, Lancaster, Leeds, London, Liverpool, Nottingham and Sheffield as well as Manchester, which I'm planning to go to (5:30 to 6:30 at St. Peter's Square, if any other locals are interested; as for the rest I fear most of the details are on Facebook).

The event information says
For International Migrants Day on Tuesday 18 December, activists from all over the UK will stand in solidarity with the Stansted 15, a group of people who stopped a secret charter flight from deporting precarious migrants to destitution, persecution, and death. On Monday 10 December, the Stansted 15 were found guilty of terror-related charges. Amnesty International called the verdict a crushing blow for human rights. We are using this day to raise awareness of the plight of the Stansted 15 in addition to local migrant-rights issues in every city participating in this national day of action.

We believe that this draconian ruling was designed to thwart direct action against the UK government's brutal and violent treatment of migrants. This country’s racist and xenophobic immigration policy is rooted in its colonial history. This history continues with the mistreatment and exploitation of migrants in detention, a regime of sexual and physical violence that has resulted in over 43 migrant deaths inside ten immigration removal centres since 2000. Even when not detained, borders cross the everyday lives of all migrants, especially asylum seekers who live in enforced poverty, forbidden to work and housed in appalling privately-run accommodation. State hostility is further embedded in schools, universities, the NHS, charities and housing authorities, with employees conscripted to become border guards, making precarious the lives of so many non-EU and EU migrants and those who were born in the UK but were unable to regularise their status because of opaque immigration rules and high visa fees. The violent colonialism of the hostile environment was exposed this year by the horrible treatment of the Windrush generation, many of whom were brought to the UK to help rebuild the national economy after World War II, raising children that were born in the UK. After living in the UK for their entire lifetimes, members of these communities have found themselves cruelly detained and deported, without the ability to contest their cases.

On Tuesday 18 December, we will use our collective voices to stand in solidarity with the Stansted 15 and with all migrants, such as the women detainees in Yarl’s Wood who continue to #HungerForFreedom.

Helping migrants and stopping detention and deportations from happening in our communities is not a crime! We demand an end to the the hostile environment policy, an end to immigration detention centres and an end to deportations!

To support the Stansted 15 and End Deportations, we urge people to wear and/or make signs in pink in solidarity.
The thing that was most interesting to learn this [UNIT OF TIME], suggested by [personal profile] silveradept

We had our last proper typology lecture yesterday (the one I'll go to after I've written this is exam preparation) and it made me wonder if typology isn't going to be this semester's "thing I'm going to hate taking but be glad I've taken," like Sounds of Language was last spring.

After a rather dry semester I found yesterday's quo-vadis lecture really fascinating: it was about the new areas of study typology is heading towards (according to my lecturer anyway and to her credit she always admits to her biases).

They include overlaps with evolutionary biology, which is surprisingly relevant to linguistics in terms of methods (apparently some of the same statistical models can be used) and what they're trying to find out (the origin and development of diversity, be it in languages or biology).

Some odd correlations have already been found. Like, places with more biodiversity tend also to have more languages spoken there. Mammal diversity has been proposed as having a particular effect. Altitude correlates with linguistic diversity. As does living in a forested area. Even the prevalence of infectious diseases seems to be related to how many languages are likely to be spoken in a place.

Now as I said these are correlations, and none of them might end up being causation. There are masses of biological data in these statistical models these days and it might just be throwing false positives up. There are theories about why some of these correlations might exist though, so I don't know.

These correlations are definitely the best thing I learned yesterday, and maybe for quite some while! I know nothing about biology but it's always nice to see interdisciplinary results, and fun to think about other things after being stuck in linguistics mode so much lately.
[personal profile] magic_at_mungos asked for "Favourite thing you learnt this year."

I'm going with the International Phonetic Alphabet.

Which is funny because I really hated learning it at the time. Really. I hated almost everything about that class. But I knew it would be useful, and it is. I'm still not as good at the whole thing as I was meant to be -- we were supposed to learn it all, non-pulmonic consonants and everything -- but I'm pretty good at the sounds of English. And I'm really glad.

It's proven very useful, in everything from learning Arabic (I still can't make a very good voiceless uvular plosive, but I know that's the sound I should be going for when I see ق) to figuring out why Andrew thinks I'm repeating myself when I say words like "rum" and "room" back-to-back (pairs like these are called minimal pairs because they differ in only one feature, here the vowel).

In a lot of my social-media/in-the-pub type linguistics conversations with my friends (which happen surprisingly often now; thanks for indulging me, friends), I often find myself trying to answer questions about how people speak that would be infinitely easier if the people I was talking to knew the IPA. Especially on social media: you've got limited characters and if you want to talk about a sound you have to try to conjure a word that'll reliably have that sound in it, in the accent of the person you're talking to.

If you're interested in the IPA, I can recommend Seeing Speech where you can click on any of the symbols and see a few-second video of someone making the sound. There are MRIs in most of the videos, though you can see a stylized animation too (and sometimes an ultrasound but that's much more confusing if you don't know what you're looking at so less fun), and it's pretty great to see what weird squishy bits of your head and neck are doing to make these sounds.

My favorite IPA symbol, for those who are wondering, is ɾ. This is a sound that's in American English but not British English. I don't use it as consistently as I used to; it's one of many sounds I've sacrified it to make myself better understood and less marked (less unusual, less likely to be remarked upon by the people I'm speaking to). But I've ended up all the fonder of it and more determined to use it as a statement that it isn't "wrong," it isn't due to not knowing how to spell, or any of the other things I've been told since I moved here. Linguistics strives for non-judgmental descriptivism, it delights in change and diversity, and the rest of the world could aspire to a little more of that itself. This is what ɾ symbolizes for me these days.

Plus it has a good name: alveolar tap (because the tip of the tongue just very quickly taps a part of the mouth). [personal profile] diffrentcolours and I joke that if there was a pub for linguists it should be called the Alveolar Tap.

Again: please suggest a topic for me to write about in December Days if you like! Still plenty of days left.
(I'm going by date rather than number of posts I've written; I didn't do one yesterday.)

When I asked for suggestions of things to write about, [personal profile] marjorie_bark said she looked up the UN's International action days in December, which I think is a fantastic way of looking for topics! The two that she said I could probably come up with something to write abouit are two of the topics I feel I go on about the most, but she was confident I can find something to say. Today is the first: today is the International Day of Persons with Disabilities.

Rather than just talk about about being a disabled person* again, I looked up a bit of information about how the UN commemorates the day. Wikipedia tells me that it started when the UN declared 1981 to be "The Year of Disabled Persons," which amuses me because that's the year I was born, a totally blind baby.
The slogan of IYDP was "a wheelchair in every home", defined as the right of persons with disabilities to take part fully in the life and development of their societies, enjoy living conditions equal to those of other citizens, and have an equal share in improved conditions resulting from socio-economic development.
A Wheelchair in Every Home! I love that. It makes a great slogan because it'll catch people off guard a little: hopefully making them think about things like "Why would there be a wheelchair in my home?" and ponder how inaccessible most of our lives and routines are, and that none of us are guaranteed to be "safe" from disability. Indeed there are theories that some of the animosity and disabling reactions we face from individual members of society stem from their internalized fear of becoming disabled themselves. The answer to why there might be a wheelchair in one's home is going to be extremely uncomfortable for a lot of people, and I am sure that's as true now as it was in 1981.

Apparently a major outcome of the International Year of Disabled Persons was the formulation of the World Programme of Action Concerning Disabled Persons adopted by the UN General Assembly in December 1982, and this not only was a precursor to the current Convention on the Rights of Disabled Persons but also kicked of an International Decade of Disabled Persons, from 1983 to 1993.

It's becuase of that Convention, to which the UK has been a signatory since 2007, that the UN was able to make the criticisms that got some press lately, about how disabled people's human rights are being violated by the way the UK government is treating us. It's nothing that any disabled person didn't already know, but it's important to have this recognized officially by prestigious organizations like the UN too because disabled people are often hugely disempowered and disprivileged.

While I like the slogan of the first International Day of etc.etc. (part of the reason I don't like person-first language is it just seems so much more cumbersome to write out!), I must admit I found the the list of the last two decades' themes pretty uninspiring. Lots about technology, inclusion, empowerment, breaking down barriers...lots of jargon about development and sustainable goals. It is in the nature of organizations like the UN to be vague and maybe kinda dry on these things, but sheesh. This year's theme is "Empowering persons with disabilities and ensuring inclusiveness and equality" which is literally just a remix of words that have appeared in previous years.

Interestingly (to me, anyway) I also learned from Wikipedia that Ian Dury was not a fan of this Day of Disabled People from the beginning, and his song "Spasticus Autisticus" was a direct comment on it (his "public response to a public gesture" according to a PDF I found in this wikihole I ended up in); he thought the day was "patronising" and "crashingly insensitive." The BBC apparently banned the song...but, oddly,
only until a 6 p.m. watershed, a decision which itself irked Dury. His record label subsequently sought to strike a defiant as well as sophisticated note regarding the record’s failure to chart, releasing a statement which said: ‘Just as nobody bans handicapped people – just makes it difficult for them to function as normal people – so “Spasticus Autisticus” was not banned, it was just made impossible to function.**
The idea that "Spasticus," a sweary song that seems to combine all the awful things a person might have shouted at them in a lifetime of being disabled (as Ian Dury, who'd had polio, experienced first-hand), wasn't worth banning altogether but only until after a watershed sends the message that disability is something unsightly, or at least that disabled people being anything other than lamenting or nobly suffering is unsightly. Dury called this song a "war-cry" and sounded quite proud of it getting banned and that "people got offended by it – everybody except the spastics." This kind of reclamation, familiar to many marginalized groups, can be so powerful.

It seems to me like the social model of disability sticking its head above the parapet and being knocked down by the prevailing medical model which says disabled people are a medical problem to be fixed and a tragedy that other members of society can safely consider themselves helpless to ameliorate -- thereby convienently absolving themselves of any responsibility to make even the tiniest improvements for disabled people.

Anyway, I've just caught myself using "thereby" and there are a ton of footnotes piling up underneath here (I did warn you guys I'd be writing this in between essays, I guess!) so I think that's enough out of me.

Again: please suggest a topic for me to write about in December Days if you like! Still plenty of days left.


* I prefer "disabled person" to "person with disabilities," but opinions on identity-first ("disabled person," "blind person," etc.) vs. person first ("person with disabilites," "person with visual impairment," etc.) vary from one country to another as well as from one condition to another: for instance, person-first language is standard in the U.S. but even there, autistic people seem to strongly prefer "autistic person" to "person with autism," to the point where the latter is sort of a shibboleth that tells clued-up autistic people that the speaker probably has ableist, mistaken or otherwise hostile views on autism.

** I'd hasten to add that we've (more or less!) moved on a lot from the dichotomy of handicapped vs. normal -- "handicapped" is now considered derogatory (in the UK; it startles me to hear it from Americans but there it's still used to describe toilets and parking spaces and similar things called either "disabled" or "accessible" in the UK), and we're better not about not defining marginalized people as distinct from "normal" people but instead from abled people, cis people, neurotypical people, straight people, white people, Christians, etc.***

*** I'm still on the lookout for a good word of this sort for non-immgrant that isn't "native" because native cannot now be separated from its connotations with indigenous people in North America...but that's a topic outside the scope of this piece! It's important to make that distinction, though: between "common" and "normal."
1 - Thing I am most looking forward to this month (suggested by [profile] zhelena)

New Year's Eve in Brighouse. It's been a tradition for Andrew and me, even before James and I started dating so we must've been doing this at least since 2012.

After the effort and stress of Christmas with my family, I think we both appreciate even more the time with some of our favorite people, food we actually like, and most importantly just being able to be ourselves again.

This year I'll even be able to watch Doctor Who live with everyone else instead of having to catch up on it a week later, and I'm really happy about that.

([profile] zhelena also asked, for the 31st, what my favorite moment of this month was so we'll find out then if I'm right, I guess!)

Please suggest a topic for me to write about if you like! Still plenty of days left.
I forgot about this! Well, that's not actually true: I forgot that it's nearly December actually. I don't know how when it feels like it's been November for approximately forty-seven years, but there you go.

December Days is a meme where people ask for a person (here, me) to write about a particular topic. They can request either a certain day in December for it (I like to suggest my birthday since that's in December and then it's like I get little presents if people can do it) and if they don't, I'll just go through them one at a time.

I probably won't be able to write something every single day (I'll be spending two of those days flying, if nothing else!), also I have an essay due on the first of the days I'm supposed to be flying and another one due early in January, but I actually thought giving myself non-academic writing prompts might help keep me in the right frame of mind when I need breaks from the essays.
[personal profile] nanila said, "Tell us about how you got into cricket!"

It might seem obvious that I got into cricket, because I love baseball. (I don't even know how I got into that. I don't remember not being.) People seem to think that cricket and baseball are similar, but that doesn't seem as true to me as a lot of people say it is. Websites explaining cricket for baseball fans have always (both before and after I knew anything about cricket) seemed confusing rather than helpful to me.

Nothing illustrates this gulf between baseball and cricket better than this video of a cricket fan trying to describe baseball*. The game's just incomprehensible to that guy (yes he's likely putting some of it on for laughs, but still you can tell some of that's genuinely his best efforts at describing what he sees), his cricket terminology is at best misapplied and at worst actually hilarious.

I've had much more luck thinking of cricket as not like anything else.

It isn't like anything else. The only thing I was really sure of about cricket until a few years ago was that it could go on for days, and I didn't understand how that would even work. Andrew and his totally-uninterested-in-sports family explained cricket to me as very firmly nothing more than an excuse to sit out in the sunshine all day, drink, and eat cucumber sandwiches. The Wikipedia entry for Test Match Special includes sections on cakes and beards; for what other sport could this be the case?

Cricket hardly seemed about the sport at all, it seemed to be instead everything English: anachronistically imperial and classist, eccentric yet rule-bound, conservative and ill-prepared for change yet capable of endless variety and escaping any restrictions that are put on it, all about the implicit rather than the explicit.

But articulating all of this came later: at first all I liked was Test Match Special, which I discovered thanks to the rubbishness of my digital radio (it was always switching stations on me and not playing the one it said it was) the first summer that I was off work with anxiety and depression.

Like so many others (but without knowing at the time I was treading a well-worn path) I was struck by TMS's gentle burbling, its jargon so comfortably undemanding to the uninitiated, its frequent digressions to entirely comprehensible sentences about cakes or what color people's shirts are.

It was a lifesaver to me in a summer I felt very alone while Andrew was at work all day (and a little bit afraid of the future: was I always going to feel like this?). Cricket on the radio helped me do the dishes and go for walks, and even when I didn't feel I could do anything but lie in bed it was there for me.

This was the summer of 2009, which had an Ashes series in it. I went from not knowing what that meant to...well, still not really knowing what that meant but getting so caught up in the commentators' excitement as it looked more and more likely that England would win the series. (I've since become very anyone-but-England, but at this point I was too new to have opinions of my own and absorbed the partisanship along with the emotions I got swept up in.)

The last Ashes test was on a weekend that many of my friends were at BiCon, which I was way too mental and too poor to go to, and I ended up being too sick anyway.

I couldn't get out of bed for days. I took my laptop to bed with me and warmed my chilled feet on its power brick like it was a hot water bottle. I slipped into and out of feverish dreams, all interspersed with the cricket drifting along.

I was just starting to feel better as the test, the series, the Ashes was drawing to a close, so the first cricket-related thing I have any specific memory of is of a stretch of really good bowling by Stuart Broad (I've had an unwarranted affection for him ever since) that got half the Australian side out for the last time.

By this point I was too excited to sit still and was perched on my knees, bouncing around a little, having soaked up all the atmosphere -- and none of the technicalities -- of what was going on.

So that's how I got into cricket: in pajamas and with summer flu and all by myself, transported magically by the power of radio to a plane of existence where none of that mattered. "Let the Test Match Special set you free," the Duckworth-Lewis Method sing, and that's certainly what it did for me.


* Similarly hilarious is this attempt by an American to explain cricket though they've never seen it, which, conveniently for my thesis, starts "'Cricket is a little like baseball, but totally different in almost every way."

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