Linguistics - Shakira style.

I'm thinking about starting a Masters in Linguisitcs next year, so things which are related to barriers in communication and language problems, I find interesting. Case in point, Shakira:


Whenever, wherever

Most of you are probably familiar with,

"Lucky that my lips not only mumble
They spill kisses like a fountain
Lucky that my breasts are small and humble
So you don't confuse them with mountains"

For those of you who don't know, Shakira is Colombian, and English is therefore not her first language.

In her new song She Wolf, we get such lyrical gems as,

"A domesticated girl that's all you ask of me,
Darling it is no joke, this is lycanthropy."

and

"I’ve been devoting myself to you Monday to Monday, and Friday to Friday.
Not getting enough retribution or decent incentives to keep me at it.
I’m starting to feel just a little abused like a coffee machine in an office.
So I’m gonna go somewhere cozy to get me a lover, and tell you all about it."

It makes me wonder if, perhaps, she's actually writing these lyrics herself (she is one of the song's co-writers) and there's something lost in translation, or if someone's just playing a bit of a cruel joke on her.

In any case, the REAL reason behind this post is that I want you all to witness the mind-boggling wrong-ness of this film clip:


They won't let me embed it

The jumpsuit! The flesh-toned leotard! The glittery tunnel which looks like some sort of over-sized artery or intestine (or other bodily canal?)! Wait, what is she doing with those shoulders? MAKE HER STOP!!

I'm not sure which version I prefer; the original, or this one.

For a she wolf, Shakira's certainly not very hairy.

MIff 2009 - the rest

So there were two more movies left in my decathlon.

Dead Snow
A Norwegian movies about Nazi zombies. There's little more that needs to be said. If you're someone who enjoys a concept as ridiculous as this, then you're going to like this movie. It's played pretty much exactly the way it should be - for laughs, with scarcely believable gore, and great comic timing, and visceral sight gags. The nods to movies such as Braindead along the way are a good indication that the makers know and are a part of their intended audience. Rollicking good fun, without any good taste in sight.

Morphia
I was a little unsure what to make of this movie. It was the last one on my list, and on a Friday night after a couple of drinks, I wasn't sure I was wanting to sit through a Russian film about a morphine addict in the late 1910s. It sounded dreary, and likely to put me to sleep. I grabbed a seat near an aisle, should I need to make an early exit.

The movie, based on actual memoirs of a Russian doctor in a remote country town (Mikhail Bulgakov), traces his addiction to morphine rather laconically. Through a series of anecdotal episodes - cutely titled like a period silent film - we see his addiction grow, but this plot almost seems to be merely the thread which links the stories together. We are made privy to the doctor's inexperience in his work, and various scenes which paint the backdrop of the impending Russian revolution, when he deals with the local aristocracy.

This movie doesn't make a huge impression. It tells a story, and seems not to invite judgement; which for a topic such as addiction, is actually refreshing. There are humourous moments, and also some gruesome ones - the amputation scene is pretty confronting - but all in all, the movie just seems to roll along. Don't go expecting some profound intellectual Russian arthouse exposition about the nature of humanity, but expect to be entertained for a couple of hours.