Amber is a sign language interpreter. For the past year or so, I’ve been teaching myself signs, and using her as my mentor. We’ve gone so far as to post videos on Youtube so she can critique me.

This weekend was fantastic for a buncha buncha reasons, including tromping around Boston and a quick trip into NYC. I don’t think we stopped talking the entire time (and I think Jason will attest to that). When we weren’t talking, we were signing. By the end of the weekend, we were having conversations using sign, which is incredibly satisfying to me.

One of the things Amber showed me was a Youtube video of someone interpreting a song. As you can imagine, someone deaf wouldn’t be able to hear the words, the tune, the beat, the pattern of chorus, verse, chorus, verse, etc.

I’ve watched this particular video a dozen times now. I’m impressed with the genre expression, the use of multiple backgrounds/costumes to indicate different parts of the song, and the type of signing I think Marilyn Manson would appreciate. (Note the word ‘No’ gets nibbled at a bit.) One cool thing about ASL is when you’re talking about someone saying something to you, you present the sign to yourself. So, in the song, when the crowd shouts ‘No!’ or ‘Yes!’, the guy signs it to himself, if that makes sense. Its these little details that helps really interpret the song. It’s this fantastic combination of performance, and the better you do it, the more homage you give to the original.

Without further ado, may I graciously present Marilyn Manson’s This Is the New Shit.

To be honest, I like this better than the original. I don’t know if that’s because I’m so interested in ASL, or if it’s just that good. Somewhere in the middle, prolly.

I agree. Stella liked being groomed (she fell asleep), and all this undercoat fur came off. It’s kind of gross and kind of awesome.

Here is Adam, obviously enamored with the most awesome baglet ever. This came, along with various tiny delicious cookies, from my good friend E.

Wooo wooo wooo (says the whale).

Weirdout.

It’s kind of like old-timey geocaching. Legend has it that a bloke in Dartmoor, England left his calling card in a jar in a remote spot, with a note directing anyone who found it to leave their card as well.

Considering the lack of Nintendo Wii and Internet, this was a pretty fantastic way for people to enjoy themselves, so the idea caught on, and more people began leaving other letterboxes throughout the moor. There was a catalog of clues, but you had to find enough letterboxes on your own to get ahold of it, which is why it took so long for the fad to spread beyond Dartmoor.

Smithsonain magazine ran an article [full text] about the British fad in April of 1998, and by the end of April, letterboxes began springing up in the U.S.

At this point, how it works is you have a blank book, a stamp of your own, the clue and maybe a compass. You get clues from Letterboxing.org, and go have an adventure. Many of the letterboxes are in a natureful area, although I can think of one letterbox that isn’t.

When you find a letterbox, there will be a book inside for you to stamp your personal stamp on (the modern-day equivalent of leaving a calling card. Or you could make up calling cards, which would be very Heathcliff of you) and you take the site stamp to your personal book. WoOt.

Unlike geocaching, you don’t NEED to have a GPS unit. And you get to take constitutional strolls. I used to be into orienteering as a Girl Scout (I secretly want to set up an orienteering course some day when I own land) and I like that the clues are either riddles “the book who’s name the owl can pronounce”, or by orienteering.

And since I’m living in a new area, this is a spectacular way to explore. And I get to make a stamp! And collect things, like country stamps in a passport!

This is a nonfiction post, and here is my source:
Randy Hall (2004). The Letterboxer’s Companion. ISBN 0-7627-2794-2