![]() The family lived in the top two floors of the three-story private house between five- and six-story Harlem apartment buildings. His father, Samuel Ray Delany, Senior, ran a successful Harlem undertaking establishment, Levy & Delany Funeral Home, on 7th Avenue, between 1938 and his death in 1960. His mother, Margaret Carey Boyd Delany, was a library clerk in the New York Public Library system. He was born to a prominent black family on April 1, 1942, and raised in Harlem. Give them a schematic of the air-conditioning and central heating system and things begin to get through.Samuel Ray Delany, also known as "Chip," is an award-winning American science fiction author. At the end you have given them some idea of what a 'home' is and why it is worth protecting. 'an enclosure that creates a temperature discrepancy with the outside environment of so many degrees, capable of keeping comfortable a creature with a uniform body temperature of ninety-eight-point-six, the same enclosure being able to lower the temperature during the months of the warm season and rise it during the cold season, providing a location where organic sustenance can be refrigerated in order to be preserved, or warmed well above the boiling point of water to pamper the taste mechanism of the indigenous habitant who, through customs that go back through millions of hot and cold seasons, have habitually sought out this temperature changing device. But for house you have to end up describing. ![]() We're just lucky that they do know what a 'family' is, because they're the only ones besides humans who have them. Their whole culture is based on heat and changes in temperature. 'We must protect our families and our homes.' When we were preparing the treaty between the Yiribians and ourselves at the Court of Outer Worlds, I remember that sentence took forty-five minutes to say in Yiribian. Take the Ciribians, who have enough knowledge to sail their triple-yoked poached eggs from star to star: they have no word for 'house', 'home', or 'dwelling'. „Compatibility factors for communication are incredibly low. But with some oriental languages, which all but dispense with gender and number, you are my friend, you are my parent, and YOU are my priest, and YOU are my king, and YOU are my servant, and YOU are my servant whom I'm going to fire tomorrow if YOU don't watch it, and YOU are my king whose policies I totally disagree with and have sawdust in YOUR head instead of brains, YOUR highness, and YOU may be my friend, but I'm still gonna smack YOU up side the head if YOU ever say that to me again Thou art my friend, but you are my king thus the distinctions of Elizabeth the First's English. Imagine, in Hungarian, not being able to assign a sex to anything: he, she, it all the same word. Imagine, in Spanish having to assign a sex to every object: dog, table, tree, can-opener. ![]() If there's no word for it, how do you think about it? And, if there isn't the proper form, you don't have the how even if you have the words. The blue room was round and warm and smooth. Except Sioux, in which there was a plural only for animate objects. The American Indian languages even failed to distinguish number. Odd, some languages get by with only singular and plural. Abstract thoughts in a blue room Nominative, genitive, etative, accusative one, accusative two, ablative, partitive, illative, instructive, abessive, adessive, inessive, essive, allative, translative, comitative. ![]()
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