QuoteOriginally posted by: Traden4AlphaQuoteLaboriously written by: James JoyceI've put in so many enigmas and puzzles that it will keep the professors busy for centuries arguing over what I meant, and that's the only way of insuring one's immortality.Well, his 600+ pages has certainly done that. But wouldn't it be easier to find some tough math problem and write:QuoteSuccinctly jotted by: Pierre de Fermat"I have a truly marvelous demonstration of this proposition which this margin is too narrow to contain."Re: JJ==spammer, I'd wager that the words "cialis," "viagra", etc. are somewhere in text strings of Finnigans.... Not quite, but look at thisQuoteMurray Gell-Mann hereIn 1963, when I assigned the name "quark" to the fundamental constituents of the nucleon, I had the sound first, without the spelling, which could have been "kwork." Then, in one of my occasional perusals of Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce, I came across the word "quark" in the phrase "Three quarks for Muster Mark." Since "quark" (meaning, for one thing, the cry of a gull) was clearly intended to rhyme with "Mark," as well as "bark" and other such words, I had to find an excuse to pronounce it as "kwork." But the book represents the dreams of a publican named Humphrey Chimpden Earwicker. Words in the text are typically drawn from several sources at once, like the "portmanteau words" in Through the Looking Glass. From time to time, phrases occur in the book that are partially determined by calls for drinks at the bar. I argued, therefore, that perhaps one of the multiple sources of the cry "Three quarks for Muster Mark" might be "Three quarts for Mister Mark," in which case the pronunciation "kwork" would not be totally unjustified. In any case, the number three fitted perfectly the way quarks occur in nature.James Joyce. Finnegan's Wake. Book 2, Episode 4, Page 383 Three quarks for Muster Mark!Sure he hasn't got much of a barkAnd sure any he has it's all beside the mark.But O, Wreneagle Almighty, wouldn't un be a sky of a larkTo see that old buzzard whooping about for uns shirt in the darkAnd he hunting round for uns speckled trousers around by Palmerstown Park?Hohohoho, moulty Mark!You're the rummest old rooster ever flopped out of a Noah's arkAnd you think you're cock of the wark.Fowls, up! Tristy's the spry young sparkThat'll tread her and wed her and bed her and red herWithout ever winking the tail of a featherAnd that's how that chap's going to make his money and mark!
Last edited by Cuchulainn
on July 13th, 2007, 10:00 pm, edited 1 time in total.