Tagged: statistics

Wild Coincidence

Big KnifeOn politics, we may not see eye to eye, but I’m still a fan of the Governator!  What’s not to love?   Arnie knows how to handle a knife.  The Terminator kicks ass.  And, above all, his pickup lines can’t be beat!  My personal favorite is six words of pure captivation:

I want to penetrate your body.

Go low and slow, with the trademark Austro-Hungarian accent, pulling “body” into a pair of separate utterances – baw and dee – otherwise, it doesn’t translate!  Also, to maximize success, win four Mr. Universe titles beforehand.

Earlier this October, Schwarzenegger and a gala of local Democrats intersected, by chance, at a San Francisco hotel.  Always the prankster, the Governator crashed the party, where, inexplicably, former councilman Aaron Peskin invited him onstage.  In the ensuing hell that broke loose, California Assembly member Tom Ammiano delivered assorted pleasantries, including “you lie!” as Arnold took the podium, and “kiss my gay ass!” on his way out.

A few days later, seemingly punitively, Arnie vetoed Ammiano-sponsored State Assembly Bill 1176, an inoffensive piece of legislation concerning the finances of the Port Of San Francisco.  As sometimes happens, he issued a statement that explained why, a portion of which is reproduced below:

Veto Statement for AB 1176

Veto Statement for AB 1176

We’ve highlighted the letters on the left margin, that, when read from top to bottom, spell a not-so-nice phrase.  Holy moly!  Did the Governator really mean that?

A Schwarzenegger spokesman calls it a “weird coincidence.”  But statistical experts disagree and have determined the odds of those words appearing at random: approximately one in 10,000,000.  Tsk tsk, Arnold!

However, hold the phones, for the creative insulter has a variety of tools at his disposal.  “FU” is great, but merely one of many pairings of Carlin’s Seven Dirty Words with pronouns.  There’s the milder, classic options: Damn You, Bite Me, etc.  Go homophobic, and you’ve got Fag Hag and a slew of filthier slurs.  And there’s more — all together, by my rough estimates, two-hundred-or-so foul and/or demeaning phrases of seven letters or less, depending upon the context.

Given that, and the Governator’s prodigious press output, we calculate the chance of him issuing an inadvertent insult, vertically along the left margin, in some document, over the span of a year, at about one in 50.  Still improbable, yes, but not one in 10 million, either.

For truly shocking levels of unintentional rudeness, go global!  From the billions of paragraphs created each day, an accidental left-letter insult is born once a minute.  Generalizing a bit, and counting what’s spelled in the verticals and diagonals throughout the entire text, an unplanned vulgarity enters the world every second!

Viewed as a “word search,” the Internet becomes a vast, angry sea, foaming with unpremeditated abuse and profanity!  Can someone upgrade their content filters to “bleep” this kind of thing, ASAP?  Please?!?!

Quick, Ammiano, draft some legislation to that effect, and Arnold, sign it this time!  We’ve got to save the children!

Of Mason And Dixon

Yankees And Southerners Are Different!

The six formative years that I spent in the Southern U.S. gave me many things: a deep understanding of cockroaches, impeccable water skills, and a year-round tan.  And, last but not least, the precious, lingering gift of the word y’all.

I could sing the praises of y’all ’til the end of time!  Short for “you all,” it’s a simple, mono­syllabic utterance that evokes lemonade on the veranda, strolls through oaks and Spanish moss, and warm, uncomplicated, friendly times.  The essence of the South wrapped into four tidy letters and an apostrophe!  How could you not help but to love y’all, y’all?

Despite these feelings, my thoughts sometimes wander, and I find myself asking: could there be another such quirky little word buried in the Southern lexicon?

At such questions, I’m predisposed to throwing algorithms, and always on the lookout for an excuse to do some hard-core statistical data-mining.  So, as they say, the game was on!  An urgent signal went out to my crack team of computer scientists, and at our first meeting, we formulated a slightly-more-scientific query:

Could we quantify the differences between Southerner and Yankee, by analyzing the everyday communications of the average Joe?

Hell yeah!  First, we defined the Northeast as New Jersey, New York, Maine, and everything in between, and the Deep South as Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, and the Carolinas.  Then, we gathered our raw data, on sale at a discount, from the aisles of the Internet Dot Com, in the form of 4,000 random blog feeds from a major social networking site, tied to our regions via user profiles.  After a bit of text extraction and some filtering to handle the degenerate cases (e.g. a post with a thousand repeats of “I love guinea pigs!”), we had a 5,000,000-word sample from the Yankees, and another of similar size for the Southerners.

We fed these into the Corpusculator, a custom suite of text-analysis software.  For several minutes, it rumbled, as regional differences percolated, and our bloggy inputs, in mutual opposition, slowly neutralized the smells of teen spirit.

Then, Eureka!  Out popped two lists: one for North and one for South, each cataloging the words that appeared in excess, as relative to the frequencies of the other region.

Via the wondrous Wordle, I built a word cloud for each, and assembled them into a two-chapter novella that I call “A Tale Of Two Regional, Multi-State Areas.”  Click on the picture below to see the whole thing, with the caveat that Northeasterners are quite fond of dropping the F-bomb, which appears prominently:

A section of "A Tale Of Two Regional, Multi-State Areas."

A section of "A Tale Of Two Regional, Multi-State Areas."

What we have here is two solid blocks of differential Zeitgeist, chock full of inter-regional revelations.  Yankees refer more to summer and winter - probably because in Dixie, the seasons are rarely more than a curiosity, but to the north, the difference between August and January is fundamental.  Northerners tend to reference books, while the South seems more preoccupied with the doctor.  Then, there’s the aforementioned profanity – with Yankees preferential to the F-word, and my dear Southerners given to damn, frankly.

As for my precious y’all?  Yup, there it is on the southern side.  A quick scan revealed that its kissin’ cousins – the other quirky Dixie colloquialisms - were all texting shorthand such as lol and omg.  Color me disappointed, but I suppose that’s that price of progress, y’all!

If you liked this post, more of the same will be coming down the pike, so stay tuned!