Link Banana

I’m a sucker for both Correspondent’s Diaries and languages which means I was quite enamored wtih the one The Economist ran last week. A tidbit:

Russians are inordinately proud of their tongue’s complexity. Friends have told me in all earnestness that they think Shakespeare might be better in Russian. in Moscow, a taxi driver attempted to prove the point by asking me to consider the words written next to the date on a carton of milk.

In Russian this is an orotund, literary phrase—a direct translation, in fact, of the French à consommer de préférence avant. “Zhelatel’no upotrebit’ do”, repeated the driver, rolling his tongue around the words and lifting a hand from the steering wheel to trace their curvaceous cadences. “It is beautiful, cultured. And in your language?” He puckered his mouth sourly. “Best bee-for!”

Though Friday’s entry was a tangential meditation on Los Angeles, last week’s Correspondent’s Diary at The Economist is rather good. Two quotes from visiting the Navajo, one of the few casino-less tribes. From Tuesday, on their relationship to the United States:

Just because Navajos are exceptionally good at negotiating between cultural worlds does not mean they do not make mistakes. A few weeks ago the Navajo Times carried a story about a move to create a Diné medal of honour for those who have served in the armed forces. The speaker of the Navajo legislature apparently thought this would be a good idea. Navajo veterans did not. Explaining that only Congress can award military medals, they crushed the plan by a vote of 34-0. Three of the intended recipients responded that they would rather have a sheep.

And from Thursday, on gambling in America:

Indian casinos exist because of what psychologists call cognitive dissonance and everyone else knows as hypocrisy. Americans wish to gamble. Yet they cannot bring themselves to liberalise gambling, which is, after all, a sin. So it is necessary to allow a few exceptions to the general rule. These include Nevada, riverboats (which are often little more than casinos surrounded by moats) and Indian tribes.

This Correspondent’s Diary has a number of interesting tidbit about traveling to North Korea with the New York Philharmonic, but I found this one especially interesting:

The most delighted response is to the final encore, a piece of Korean folk music called Arirang. On both sides of the Korean divide this song evokes a longing for unity. By playing it on this occasion the Americans appear to challenge one of the main tenets of North Korean propaganda: that Americans want a divided peninsula. Of all the pieces played tonight, this one is most likely to give pause for thought among Pyongyang officials. The State Department, which has been backing the Philharmonic all the way with this trip, would very much approve of the choice (if it wasn’t actually made by people in or close to the administration).