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Concord participates in Dictionary Project | Lifestyles | bdtonline.com Bluefield Daily Telegraph
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Sunday, November 28, 2021
Recapturing the potent poetry of 16th-century Bible translation [Unscripted column] - Fly Magazine - Translation
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Recapturing the potent poetry of 16th-century Bible translation [Unscripted column] Fly MagazineNew Bible translation has a Texas touch - The Dallas Morning News - Translation
Eight Texans rewrote the Bible, but in a good way.
The New Revised Standard Version, one of the most popular translations of the Bible ever published, got an update recently. The NRSVUE (updated edition) was released to publishers Nov. 16, according to Religion News Service. Print editions should start hitting shelves next year.
The NRSV is curated by Friendship Press, a subsidiary of the National Council of Churches, which includes dozens of denominations representing 30 million church members.
Bible translations are typically done by committees of scholars with expertise in ancient languages. This update was conducted by seven general editors and 56 book editors over a span of two years, according to the Friendship Press website.
One of those scholars was Deirdre Fulton, associate professor of Hebrew Bible at Baylor University. Fulton is an expert on the books of Ezra and Nehemiah. She has written extensively on those works and is currently working on a commentary. She said it was “just an amazing experience” to work on the update, both because she enjoys working with ancient texts but also because of the importance of her task.
“You just don’t take it lightly,” she said.
Throughout history, new Bible translations have been fairly rare, but they exploded in the 20th century. Now, the popular YouVersion smart phone app includes 67 English translations. But updates to a major version don’t happen often. These are translations of sacred texts, after all. Not iPhones. The NRSV arrived in 1989 as an update to the Revised Standard Version which was published in 1946.
The NRSVUE was created with consideration for “modern sensibilities” that identify people less by their circumstances. For instance, “slave woman” is now rendered “enslaved woman.” And “demoniacs, epileptics and paralytics,” now reads “people possessed by demons or having epilepsy or afflicted with paralysis.” It is also informed by recent scholarship and the Dead Sea Scrolls.
Fulton told us the process for proposing updates was stringent. To suggest the change of a single word, she would write a multipage argument using many scholarly sources. And many of those arguments were rejected by the project’s editorial committee.
Eight of the scholars who worked on this update are Texans, representing Baylor, Southern Methodist University, Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary, Rice University, Texas Christian University and Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary.
“We have amazing biblical scholars in Texas,” Fulton said. “The I-35 corridor is just awesome.”
If you’re looking for a flashy, headline-grabbing bunch, scholars in ancient languages are not a good place to start. But we’re glad Texas scholars are among those doing this sensitive and important work that will impact generations to come.
Saturday, November 27, 2021
OxYou's Oxford English Dictionary – The Oxford Student - Oxford Student - Dictionary
Image Description: a number of dictionaries on a book shelf.
ATIK: see ‘Park End’
Brookes: the ones you swipe left on on dating apps.
“Brookes not books / 6’1 and that’s 2 separate measurements xx 😉”
Crewdate: only if a courageous ally orchestrates a highly targeted ABC will the prospective romantic walk away with an actual date from this; the majority will leave the cheap curry house of choice £15 out of pocket and with nothing to show for it except extreme inebriation. (see also: ‘daylight robbery’)
Drama:
- Student theatre; most students will end up attending some slightly strange play in the BT Studio that a close/unknown friend has dragged them along to.
- Targeted bitching on Oxfess; irrelevant.
Essays: reasons to moan/complain. (see also: ‘problem sheets’)
Facebook: sadly the app to which all Oxford students must resign their souls if they want to actually get involved with university events. Jamie’s proposed evacuation to Discord will only happen if the gaming community becomes more prominent within the student body; the existence of a dedicated ‘Gaming section’ within this very paper is misleading in this regard.
G&D’s: a conspiracy invented by the University to get students addicted to ice cream in Freshers’ Week.
Hacks:
- People who are way too invested in student politics/societies
- Your future Prime Ministers, unfortunately
I: the nominative singular pronoun, used by a speaker in referring to himself or herself.
JCR: democratic representatives of the undergraduate student body; a committee of harmonious concord where no drama ever happens and everyone definitely does their jobs.
Kebab vans: an Oxford addiction. (see also ‘Hassan’s Tesla’)
Library: favoured location for procrastination and nursing hangovers; occasionally used for work.
Material Science: no definition available; meaning and purpose of degree still unknown.
Newspaper (student): a respected extra-curricular university activity, provided you’re working for the OxStu; its writers are known as ‘journalists’ to themselves, and ‘try-hards’ by others.
Oxford Union, the: you already know what this is.
“Did you vote in the Union elections this week?”
“What, you mean the Student Union? The SU?”
“… We have an SU?”
Park End: see ‘ATIK’
Q: you try and think of something that’s both Oxford-related and mildly amusing that starts with Q. I’ll wait.
Rowing: a cult.
Student political society, any: Something to avoid, unless betrayal, intrigue, and incurring the general hostility of the University at large interests you. (see also: ‘Christ Church’)
Tescalator: a fun novelty, until it isn’t.
“Oh God, I had the most awkward encounter today. I saw my Tinder match on the Tescalator.”
University of Oxford, the: the best university in the world, according The Guardian, although looking around at the caliber of some of your peers this is often difficult to believe.
Varsity Club, the: can’t fill the nightlife hole left by Fever Fridays, no matter how hard it tries.
Wolfson College: ???? (see also ‘Kellogg College’, ‘St Cross College’, ‘Nuffield College’)
eXistential crisis: occurs with soothing regularity every 5th Week.
oxYou: despite the stupid name, still the University’s best, by virtue of being its only, newspaper satire section.
“Which section of the OxStu do you write for?”
“OxYou.”
“Wow! You must be really fit and funny…”
Zzzzz: something Oxford students could always use more of; the sound of a lecture hall the morning after Bridge Thursdays.
Image Credit: John Keough via Flickr
How To Use Live Translate On The Google Pixel 6 & Understand Any Language - Screen Rant - Translation
The Pixel 6 is a phone loaded with tons of helpful features, and one of the most impressive is Live Translate. Google had a lot riding on the Pixel 6. After years of lackluster smartphones and respective sales, the Pixel 6 and 6 Pro were supposed to turn things around for the company. They were marketed with flashy designs, impressive spec sheets, and low prices.
Thankfully for Google, all of that hard work paid off. The $599 Pixel 6 is now one of the best smartphone values on the market. It has a great display, excellent cameras, and comes in at a price that undercuts much of its competition. Then there's the Pixel 6 Pro. It adds an excellent telephoto camera and an even brighter/smoother display — all for just $899. Regardless of which model someone buys, the software is one of the main draws to the Pixel 6 series. Both phones ship with Android 12 out of the box, are promised three years of major OS updates, and come with an array of exclusive features not offered by other manufacturers.
One such feature is something called 'Live Translate.' Should you find yourself texting someone who speaks another language, Live Translate makes talking to them considerably easier. You get to text in your own language, but Live Translate automatically converts and sends it in the language spoken by the person on the other end. Additionally, any messages the other person sends are translated to your language. To enable Live Translate on the Pixel 6/6 Pro, do the following: Open the Settings app, tap 'System,' tap 'Live Translate,' and make sure 'Use Live Translate' is toggled on. It should already be enabled by default, but it doesn't hurt to double-check. On the Live Translate page, tap 'Add a language' and select any language you expect to be conversing in. The Pixel 6 can automatically detect a new language and recommend adding it to Live Translate, but languages need to be downloaded locally on the Pixel 6 in order to work.
Tips For Using Live Translate On The Pixel 6
Once Live Translate is set up and ready to go, using the feature is dead simple. When looking at a text conversation in another language, the Pixel 6 automatically shows a translation shortcut. Tap the 'Translate to' shortcut at the top of the screen, and just like that, all messages are translated to your preferred language. Tapping the drop-down arrow shows additional settings for the feature, such as changing the language preferences or temporarily hiding Live Translate. When you go to send a message, the Pixel 6 shows the message you're typing along with the live translation being created in real-time. Compose your message, press send, and it's converted right away. This feature is primarily advertised with Google Messages, but it works with other messaging apps as well. Whether someone's texting in WhatsApp, Instagram, Snapchat, Twitter, or another messaging app, Live Translate should work exactly the same.
While text translations are the main marketing push for Live Translate, the feature has some other tricks up its sleeve as well — such as translating things in the real world. Let's say someone is in another country and finds a street sign, menu, or another item with text in a foreign language. Live Translate can help in these situations, too. Open the Camera app, tap 'Modes,' tap 'Lens,' tap 'Translate,' hold the camera in front of the foreign text, tap and hold on the text, and tap 'Translate.'
Last but not least, Live Translate can also be used to translate foreign videos and phone calls into your native language. While a video is playing or you're speaking to someone in another language, press the Pixel 6's volume button and tap the Live Caption icon (the circle one below the volume indicator). The Pixel 6 then shows a floating captions window with a live translation of the foreign language into your preferred one. If it's not translating things correctly, tap the caption window, tap the three dots, tap 'Live Caption settings,' and tap 'Languages & translations.'
Source: Google
Translation: What Happened When My Health Code Turned Yellow - China Digital Times - Translation
China’s “zero-Covid” policy relies heavily on mobile phone apps that display a health code in one of three “traffic light” colors: red, yellow, or green. Users install the apps via WeChat or Alipay, enter their personal, medical and travel information, and the apps generate a color code that informs users whether they are at low risk and can travel freely (green), are at medium risk and need to self-isolate for 7-14 days and be tested (yellow), or are at high risk and need to self-isolate or quarantine for 14 days and be tested (red).
An individual’s health app color code can change over time, depending on his or her travel history, contact history, biometric data, and local conditions. An analysis by The New York Times found that the Alipay health code app was also capable of sending individuals’ locations, city names and identifying code numbers to the police.
The recent expansion of yellow codes based on “spatial-temporal proximity” has turned daily life upside-down, forcing thousands into lockdown simply for being within 800 meters of someone whose health code is anything but green.
In this translated WeChat post, which appears to have leaked from a private account, “Gentle Moss” (温良的青苔) chronicles how all the caution in the world could not save him from a yellow health code, and why standing in line to get tested may be a fate worse than quarantine:
Since returning to Xi’an from Tibet on September 3, the majority of my movement has been limited to a radius of a few hundred meters from my apartment. I go downstairs for mixian, then come right back up and continue writing. On rare occasions I might pick up a package along the way. The farthest I go is to see my dad. That requires a subway ride and a walk. Whenever I go, I maintain social distance and wear a mask, and I always walk all the way down to the first subway car. I do all this out of habit. Plus, my sleep schedule is the opposite of most people’s. When everyone else is working, I’m sleeping, and vice versa, so I’m never out during rush hour.
With all this precaution, I didn’t take a single COVID-19 test for this trip to Tibet. I made it through every inspection point thanks to my green health code, my travel code, and a little sweet-talking. Saying the right things to the inspectors always helps, as well. They just took my temperature and let me go.
I was really careful. During the day, I was on my motorcycle, so of course I didn’t come into contact with anyone, and I put my mask on before going into my hotel at night. They only let me stay after I’d gone through strict COVID-19 protocols.
In spite of all this, a few days ago my health code turned yellow. I also got two text messages, informing me that I had passed through a high-risk area and was now required to quarantine at home. The last sentences really caught my attention: “Your health code will be continuously updated as pandemic conditions change. Please stay tuned for updates.”
I live in Xi’an’s Yanta District, just a few kilometers from Ci’en Temple (Giant Wild Goose Pagoda) where Master Xuanzang translated the Buddhist scriptures. It just so happened that those tourists from Shanghai—the ones who made pandemonium in northwest China—had visited Giant Wild Goose Pagoda. All of a sudden, the people of Yanta became China’s biggest pariahs. All around Xi’an, if you had a Shaanxi license plate, the traffic police would turn you away—“Go wherever you want, just not here.”
Just like having a Hubei plate last year.
This was a huge blow to me personally, because I have to leave my apartment complex in order to eat. But if I did, I wouldn’t be able to get back in. One look at my yellow health code, and security would stop me. There was absolutely nothing I could do.
The texts were sent from a number that was not a cell phone number. I couldn’t text it or call back. After my code turned yellow, all the stuff that used to be there, like the government services portal, neighborhood services, COVID-19 testing site information…they were all gone. There was just a big “code yellow” icon and some generic safety messages.
It didn’t make any sense to me. They should have at least left the testing site portal, no?
At any rate, that barren screen and those stern warnings made me feel like I’d been whisked away to a desert island. Sure, outside my window cars whizzed by and the hustle and bustle of normal life continued. But those people were all green. They could go wherever they pleased. Me? I was stuck. I couldn’t go to the grocery store, restaurants, movie theaters. I couldn’t ride the subway or any public transportation. And if I left my apartment, I wouldn’t even be allowed back in…
But that wasn’t even the biggest issue. My biggest issue was that when I told my family and friends that I wouldn’t be able to get back home if I went to the get-together we had planned for the following Monday, they all begged me to go get tested.
I didn’t want to go.
Of course, my reasoning was based on the fact that I had complete knowledge of my travel history, my strong sense of self-discipline, and the prevention measures I followed. Never in a million years would I allow myself to be running around if I wasn’t feeling well. One of my biggest fears is causing trouble for my family, friends, and the people around me. I never ask favors if I don’t absolutely have to.
Plus, the notice was clear: I was to remain quarantined at home. Fine, then, just let me stay at my office and eat takeout every day…
I believe testing is an important epidemic control measure, a necessary one. But I’m really confused about who should be getting tested and how the tests are done.
The free tests are run in batches of ten. That is, ten throat swabs (or nasal swabs) are put into the same machine, and if anyone in the group tests positive, then all ten people will be notified or tracked down, and measures will be taken.
You can also pay for a test. They cost 60 yuan (in the Chang’an District). The line for those is so long, you can’t see where it begins or ends.
When I asked one of the hundreds of people in line, it turned out that they all had yellow health codes. They had no choice. But everyone was crowded together. What happened to social distancing? If someone in line was positive, how many people would they infect?
That scene filled me with dread. I only spoke with the very last person in line, and only from a few steps away. As soon as I got my answer, I walked around them and left.
Terrifying.
This was a big reason why I didn’t want to get tested. My goal was to prove that I’m healthy, but in the process of attaining that proof, I could get infected.
Since I know that I personally am safe, I intuitively disagree with compulsory, universal testing.
It’s a feeling that comes from deep within. Perhaps this is what people call “civil disobedience.” Of course, I know I’m nothing but a lowly “denizen” (but I’ve always considered myself a citizen, at least a citizen of the world).
This is just my personal feeling. It’s really not a wise thing to write about in today’s China, but the feeling is real.
When friends and family all tell you to follow orders from the authorities, it’s a tremendous amount of pressure. (Only three people in my life supported my decision to follow my own thinking. Thank you to Brother Nian for being the most resolute supporter of them all.)
When compliance becomes a collective choice, when it affects all aspects of your life, and non-compliance introduces an immense amount of real, practical challenges, the dynamic becomes one of great power disparity, like trying to prop up a mountain with a twig.
I know the people in my life just want what’s best for me, honestly. They know I’m a staunch liberalist and a nonconformist, so they worry these problems I’ve brought on myself might break my spirit, that my inner torment will bring me all kinds of real-world strife.
So they plead with me to compromise. “It’s not like they’re asking you to get a shot,” they say. “Just go get it done, and it will be over. And once you do, you’ll be able to go wherever you want. Don’t make yourself suffer like this.” These words are really persuasive.
I actually did plan to give in, at first.
I’m a living, breathing human, after all. I need to eat and drink. I need to see my family and friends, go to the movies, go to the book store—and no one would let me in. I’d have a breakdown. I just can’t imagine how a normal, healthy individual could be labeled a threat by “big data” for nothing more than living in an area that a COVID-positive person once passed through. It’s like the plot from a sci-fi film I saw years ago, now becoming my reality.
I can’t just stop visiting my dad. But if they don’t let me into his complex, what am I going to do, force my way in? Security would kick me right out. The police would put me in a black cell. I can’t beat them. Actually, the moment my health code turned yellow, my ability to go to the supermarket or the theater wasn’t the first thing on my mind. I was worried the authorities would give me a call, then come and take me away.
Reality justified my worries. Yesterday afternoon I read that your code will turn red if you fail to get tested after two notices. You can imagine the consequences.
So, why not go get tested, I thought to myself. Otherwise, then what?
Yesterday morning, I turned on my motorcycle, took out my phone, and clicked the link Brother Dao sent me to find the closest testing site. I let my bike idle for a full three minutes as I paced back and forth in the late autumn morning air, thinking to myself, “You always tell people to stay strong and not give in, to be themselves. How could you let yourself give up so quickly? Is this really as far as you’re able to go?”
After five or six minutes of pacing, I turned the bike off and went back upstairs.
Sitting on my balcony looking out the window, I thought of my friends in the civil service: If I was under this much pressure for this small matter, they’d probably lose their jobs if they made the same decision as me. Their entire futures would be affected. Then what would they do?
In that moment, I really felt for them: You all have it rough. Really. When your survival depends on it, how could you choose anything but surrender?
But even if I got tested, would it really solve all my problems? The way I see it, not necessarily.
A good friend of mine, Youcai (pseudonym), drove to a certain city in the north yesterday. The traffic police saw his Shaanxi license plate and turned him away. Youcai explained that he’d been tested, but the police didn’t accept his test, which was from five days ago. The police told him the test had to be taken within 48 hours (the government standard is 15 days) and told him he had to go back. “Why didn’t you post this information online?” Youcai asked. “I’ve driven hundreds of kilometers.”
The officer was very polite. “Apologies,” he replied, “We just enforce the rules. We don’t control what gets posted online.”
I suspect the reason they don’t post it is because, according to the government, test results are valid for 15 days. But as is often the case when central government regulations get enforced at the local level, those 15 days became 48 hours. This is institutional inertia: as information travels through the bureaucracy, from the center down to the grassroots, recommendations become mandatory.
And for what?
It may seem like they’re just strictly enforcing the rules, but each local government acts like “the railway police—each in charge of one section,” so to speak.
Youcai had no choice but to turn around. On the way back, coming through a certain city to the west, the situation was much different. Not once was he stopped and asked to show his test results.
“If I really was a carrier,” Youcai said, “I could have just waltzed right in, you know?”
So you see, it’s either overreaction, or negligence. This is how things stand.
A few days ago, China Central Television’s official Douyin account reported that as of November 9, South Korea will officially adopt a policy of “living with COVID-19,” meaning they will treat it like the flu or any other infectious disease. An army of idiots mocked South Korea in the comments. It saddened me to see it—over 100 years, and not an inch of progress.
Should we be fighting the pandemic? Of course we should. We actually did a great job of it early on, when physical distancing drove infection numbers down. Of course, there were also a lot of infuriating situations, like barring people’s doors and apartment units. That’s why we had the Gong Lady’s performance.
But as the pandemic evolves around the world, a lot of initially hard-hit countries have begun to normalize. At Euro 2020 this summer, Chinese gazed in awe not only at the matches, but also at the seas of people allowed to gather at such huge events—during a global pandemic. And not only that, after the competition ended, there were no large-scale outbreaks. It proved Zhang Wenhong’s earlier prediction correct:
Our success in the fight against the pandemic has been achieved mainly through non-medical measures, i.e., administrative measures: centralization, isolation, lockdowns. These measures stifle production and distribution. We risk falling behind as other countries achieve success through medical means. Our administrative measures are unsustainable.
The Euros were held without a hitch. And yet here, any time we discover a few sporadic cases, it’s as if the world is coming to an end: people are forced to line up for testing; buses, trains, and airports shut down; roadblocks go up and shops are closed.
Can there be a balance between administrative and medical measures, while also taking people’s livelihoods into account? After all, the reason we are fighting the pandemic in the first place is to be productive and live our lives. But too much suppression adversely affects production, you know how our government works: The top issues an order, and the bottom does all it can to save its own skin. As for the lives of everyday people, how many officials actually care?
For three days, I constantly worried that agents would come and take me away, or that my health code would turn red. Every day, I woke up, anxiously checked my health code status, and settled in to staring at the walls. I wanted to duck out, but I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to get back in. And even if I stayed home, I worried about getting taken away. Plus, I saw all the news, like the murder of that entire family in Wuhan yesterday. I couldn’t sleep, and I was exhausted.
But today there’s good news. My health code turned back to green all on its own. Perhaps they were monitoring me and saw I hadn’t left the apartment. Or maybe the situation on the ground has improved. At any rate, I’m free to move around again. Today I made a special trip to the next village over, just to walk around and get some fresh air. I took a video I’ll share with you all here:
Compared to when the pandemic first broke out, the situation has improved some, but we obviously cannot rest on our laurels now. I still support strict prevention measures, especially in crowded areas and transportation hubs. But the important thing is this: Can we face this pandemic the right way? Can local authorities refrain from leveraging this to expand their power over people’s lives? And can private enterprises stop themselves from profiting off the pandemic?
What’s the right thing to do? Take strict precautions, but don’t panic. Don’t live like it’s doomsday. Do what you have to do. If you have to quarantine, quarantine. If you have to do business, do business. If you have to go somewhere, go there. If you have to travel, travel.
If you’re sick, get treated. If you’re not, live your life. It’s as simple as that. OK? [Chinese]
Translation by Little Bluegill for CDT.
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