Donner MacRae

The compound (in various forms) crops up throughout traditional European vernacular poetry dating back to the 1300s. At a minimum (I suspect the semantic pairing of 'brown' and 'berry' is actually much older).

Interestingly, we have a direct parallel in contemporary idiomatic English: "brown as a berry" - used to describe a person with a deeply-suntanned complexion.

Berry-brown ale, berry-brown steeds (see Chaucer's "broun as a berye"), berry-brown blades...the list goes on and on.

Here's an instance that recently surprised me! An early form of the phrase crops up in the incomplete Middle English poem 'Wynnere and Wastoure', found in the London Thornton Manuscript:

This kynge was comliche clade in kirtill and mantill -
Bery-brown was his berde - brouderde with fewlys

(Translated: Berry-brown was his beard - embroidered with birds)

There may be more in that phrase ("berry-brown") than meets the eye! ;-]

We often run into nonsensical-looking compounds when reading 17th-century (and earlier) poetic compositions using 21st-century dictionaries.

Thanks for sharing, I'd never run across this version.

Planxty - The Lady on the Island / The Gatehouse Maid / The Virginia Reel / Callaghan’s Reel



Mickey MacConnell - Only Our Rivers Run Free



The Albion Band - Come All Ye



The Strawbs - Part of the Union

Before ChatGPT, Before Bostrom, There Was Wiener. And He Got Everything Right.

https://www.facebook.com/groups/877691181064534/posts/1452696206897359/

Excerpts:

In 1950, an MIT mathematician sat down and wrote a small, non-technical book for ordinary people. He wrote no equations, offered no jargon, and made no predictions. He issued a warning. His name was Norbert Wiener, and he had already invented the science that artificial intelligence would eventually be built upon.

He predicted in 1950 that machines would eventually replace human work not merely in factories, but in offices, in drafting rooms, in translation bureaus, in any domain where a human being was being paid to follow a defined procedure. He said white-collar work would not be exempt.

He also described, with remarkable precision, what we now call the alignment problem. He did not use that term; it did not yet exist. But he said that machines optimize for the goal you give them, not the goal you meant. They pursue the literal specification with terrifying efficiency, and the outcome is a disaster the builder did not foresee.




A Sigh for Cybernetics - Felicia Lamport

For those who enjoyed all of his content back in the 2018-2022 timeframe (and for anybody who may enjoy the related YouTube channel Adapt 2030, hosted by David DuByne) ~

https://www.youtube.com/@UNSHADOWED2/videos
https://x.com/UnshadowedShow
https://unshadowed.substack.com/
https://t.me/iceagefarmer

Social Distortion - Gimme the Sweet and Lowdown

O there is blessing in this gentle breeze,
A visitant that while it fans my cheek
Doth seem half-conscious of the joy it brings
From the green fields, and from yon azure sky.
Whate'er its mission, the soft breeze can come
To none more grateful than to me; escaped
From the vast city, where I long had pined
A discontented sojourner: now free,
Free as a bird to settle where I will.
What dwelling shall receive me? in what vale
Shall be my harbour? underneath what grove
Shall I take up my home? and what clear stream
Shall with its murmur lull me into rest?
The earth is all before me. With a heart
Joyous, nor scared at its own liberty,
I look about; and should the chosen guide
Be nothing better than a wandering cloud,
I cannot miss my way. I breathe again!

The Prelude / Growth of a Poet's Mind (excerpt) - William Wordsworth

From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were—I have not seen
As others saw—I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow—I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone—
And all I lov’d, I lov’d alone.

Alone (excerpt) - Edgar Allan Poe

I sit beside the fire and think
Of all that I have seen,
Of meadow-flowers and butterflies
In summers that have been;

Of yellow leaves and gossamer
In autumns that there were,
With morning mist and silver sun
And wind upon my hair.

I sit beside the fire and think
Of how the world will be
When winter comes without a spring
That I shall ever see.

For still there are so many things
That I have never seen:
In every wood, in every spring
There is a different green.

I sit beside the fire and think,
Of people long ago,
And people who will see a world
That I shall never know.

But all the while I sit and think
Of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet
And voices at the door.

I Sit Beside the Fire and Think - J. R. R. Tolkien

Huayucaltia - Chasqui (Live at the Redlands Bowl)



Ciro Hurtado - Palomitas