Turkish-English machine translation

Over at TottenhamNews.org, via Improbable Research, which cites some choice samples.

Curiously, while the registrant’s address is said to be just round the corner from Ankara’s gloriously Martian Altınpark, the phone number is Dutch, and the only Turkish news that I’ve ever heard come out of Tottenham, north London, is of this planet’s most splendid kebabs, fruit and veg, and cab drivers (but not from Ankara).

The most famous Turk ever lives in Islington, but I fancy myself even less as a football blogger.

And, in case you’re wondering, there are a couple of rides in Altınpark, and the dotless ı is pronounced rather like the o in Alton (Towers), and wouldn’t it be nice to find out more about this pleasing coincidence in time for Christmas, of which I hope you have a happy one!

(I’m celebrating with at least two bands of joyous hippies, so instead of fretting about inlaws I’m up to my armpits in cake mixes and bread dough.)

I have probably already offered lame excuses as to why I can’t speak Turkish.

Similar posts

  • Lo vostre cul, solucionado

    La respuesta a esta pregunta es sencilla: el editor omitió los sonidos de cagar de la versión impresa, y el “trobo divertit sens pecar de la merda y del cagar” debe haber sido un poema de seis quintetos, con esquema de rima ABABA (?) y bastante parecido al rondó redoublé francés de dos / tres siglos …

  • Memento mori = Don’t forget to die

    Over at Mr Harvey’s place, to whom and all a happy Christmas.

    One day I’ll explain how for certain folks “Vamos a comprar un pato” came to mean “Let’s get stoned out of our fricking tree,” but today is a day of joy, hope and peace, and so they may slumber on while I cook …

  • Some migration songs

    With an introduction by St. Spike in the Moon.

  • Invasion of the feet

    A bouncer was standing outside a club when suddenly a horde of feet poured down the street and began squealing, “Let us in, let us in!”

    “This establishment’s non-discrimination policy doesn’t apply to autonomous human body parts,” he replied, “so fuck off.”

    But they began kicking at his ankles, and hopping up his legs to …

  • “I’am Barcelonian” feels all wrong, but which demonym do we deserve?

    Barcelona Council features over at Harvey’s Barna cream.

    “Barcelonian” has a long and respectable tradition, though, like Peter, I wouldn’t use it. I think in my case this is because I associate it with troglodytes who think “vibrant” is still a vote-winner, and with Wikipedians, who may well work for the Ajuntament.

    But what implicit contemporary


  1. I'll match your bread dough and raise you lentil nut roast (with prunes soaked in rum through the middle). In the next round, I'll see you as I have a daughter here in a black roll-necked jumper.

    I'm also using this as a test of a VPN, so I will be looking to see if this arrives OK after being routed via a country where boiling of people is inserted ad hoc onto the statute book.

    Happy Christmas Trev and I look forward to more of the same erudition and fuckwittery in 2014.

  2. I am so glad you didn't tempt to reply to that when I was roaring drunk at 5 this morning. Thanks for visiting & have a good one!

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *