A technophile, interwebucated friend just informed me that in order for this blog to gain a slight modicum of search engine recognition, I should write a post containing a lot of those blue, underlined thingies (hyperlinks, I believe they’re called), with my name (Martin Marks) appearing therein—all as blue and as underlined as possible. And so, in accordance with my friend’s advice, there shall be an upcoming deluge of Martin Marks’es’s. And even though it’s about to say Keep reading →, please do not Continue reading
Ever wonder why Aristotle’s Poetics spends 25 sections detailing all that is dramatic, but only two small paragraphs on comedy? It just so happens that I found the very reason, in Footnote 51 of the 1982 Gerald F. Else translation I picked up at the Strand: Continue reading
My parents are currently on a side excursion to Bandhavgarh National Park in Jabalpour, India, so that my father may photograph the elusive white tiger in its natural habitat. As per usual, my mother brought along her Blackberry. Below, please find selections from her reportage, along with a brief response from my sister about the e-mail chain. Continue reading
On Thursdays from 8 AM-12 PM, the five undergraduates studying Egyptology at Johns Hopkins would gather in the Near Eastern Studies room—nicknamed “the Fish Bowl”—of Gilman Library’s basement for four rollicking hours of uninterrupted Middle Egyptian text reading. Presented here, in a fairly regular manner, will be some of my favorites from that class.
I figured I’d start with the Papyrus Westcar because, 1. I’m very rusty, and it’s very simple, 2. this portion makes liberal use of my favorite verbal construction, the sentence particle ‘h’.n (roughly translating to and sounding like, “And then…”), and, 3. an earlier section contains the first recorded instance of a joke (the Egyptians weren’t particularly well known for their humor, so I won’t include it). Continue reading
New York, NY—Dachshund owners from the tri-state area descended upon Washington Square Park for some sort of wiener-dog day hullaballoo. In the midst of all this was a concessions stand, pictured above, where two people were selling figurines, posters, and t-shirts of the ever-lovable, phallic-shaped doggie. It took me a moment to realize that this was, indeed, a genuine Moment of Fear &. Horror. Continue reading
Since I first read her work in a Landscape and Setting class I took in college, Flannery O’Connor has been one of my favorite writers, and her short-story “A Good Man is Hard to Find” is something near divine perfection. I’ve recently started reading Brad Gooch’s Flannery: A Life, so I thought I’d return to the story that first drew me to all things O’Connor Continue reading
So how did writing begin? Counting sheep, of course.
Around 8,500 BC, trade among the ancient Mesopotamians grew more complicated, and merchants needed a record-keeping system to keep track of everything. They came up with a series of tokens, with each token representing a commodity—a jug of oil, a jar of perfume, a dog, a cow, a lion, or (very popular back then) a sheep. As this system became even more complicated and people amassed more property (and, therefore, tokens), merchants began to store their sheep-figurines in contraptions like the one pictured above, round ceramic envelopes called bullae. Continue reading
Wellington, FL — From the Wellington Mall, an overhead shot of Children at play on a very large, very bright waffle, while parents look on. Continue reading
I WRITE TODAY about a problem that’s plaguing our little island, a problem of great social, political and economic import that — should it remain unchecked — may prove the ruination of our properties, our livelihood and our women. I am, of course, talking about the iguanas.
As an avid runner, there’s nothing I enjoy more than a good long sprint down South Ocean Boulevard at around 4 p.m., thereby avoiding both Florida’s 3:37 p.m. thunderstorms and my father’s 5:12 p.m. talks about gainful employment (I’m a writer, suffering from prohibitive amounts of free time, as this essay will no doubt indicate).
On one of these runs about two summers ago, I saw something curious — a large, bright-green lizard sunning itself on the pavement along Land’s End Road. That summer, I kept on bumping into the lizard, and noticed that it was getting even more sizable, and bolder; whenever I approached, it would rear up and hiss at me, a row of spikes now lining its back, a rooster-like (or, in more island-familiar vocabulary, a bad plastic surgery-like) flap hanging from its neck. Read more at The Palm Beach Daily News.
Source: Palm Beach Daily News.