Here’s a quiz that purports to find out what ancient language one is. I’m Akkadian. Like the Spanish Inquisition, I suspect that nobody expects Akkadian. (Does this mean I’m Cajun, too?).

Your Score: Akkadian

You scored

You are Akkadian, a blend of the incomprehensible symbols of the Sumerians with the unwritable sounds of the early Semitic peoples. However, the writing just doesn’t suit the words and doesn’t represent everything needed, so you end up a schizoid mess. Invented in Babylon, you’re probably to blame for that tower story. However, crazy as you are, you’re much loved and appreciated, and remain actively in use by records keepers long after schools have switched to other languages.

HT: Jim West.

Joe Carter at the Evangelical Outpost is defending that which all must uphold (even those who deny it, for they uphold it by denying it): the law of non-contradiction. But in the process, he takes a swipe at Walt Whitman that has me wondering about the proper limits of rhetorical and poetic language. Is it wrong for a poet to say something contradictory or to be unruffled by his self-contradictions? Does this make him an idiot? Are there times when saying something that is propositionally contradictory or embracing contradiction can still be meaningful ? Joe has a powerful starting point for his annoyance over contradictoriness: an Episcopal priest who claims to be both Christian and Muslim. Surely, this has crossed lines of sanity and truth. But what about Walt Whitman? What think ye? My two comments: (1) and (2).