:: Who's (Watching) Who(m) ::

Before I start, the pedant muct be exorcised from my soul... Who becomes "whom" when subject to the accusative-dative case in English. for non-linguists this is when the word becomes the object in the sentence. This is the same as the difference between "he" (subject) and "him" (subject):
"Whom did you see?"/"I saw him"
"Who saw the pedant?"/"He saw the pedant"
All clear? The only problem is that historically the verb "to be" does not take the accusative-dative but the nominative (i.e. the same form as the subject), which is why one would ask "Who's he?" and not "Who's him?" This is all a rather complicated way of saying "Who's who" and "Who's watching whom?" are the correct forms, hence the need for the brackets in the header. If you disagree then sue me. I'm only a linguist after all

With all that off my chest, I can concentrate on the theme of today's vignettes. Rather than having a counter, this blog links to a nifty traffic-monitoring site. This is a source of interest, joy and occasional woe, revealing statistics about the visitors here (apparently I got all of hits last week). More interesting is the information about the search terms which have thrown up links to the site - some recent examples which amused me highly were:

- caffeine oktoberfest sausage
- shoreditch twat
- dingy ninja narcolepsy

And, dear reader, I can also keep my eye on you... the site also tracks the servers from which visitors have accessed these pages. I know, for example, that one of my cast for Shakers has been checking this site on a regular basis. Did you really think I'd post lots of gossip about you all?!

Enough of that - those stats get a little dull after about 5 seconds, so I shan't dwell on them. The issue of "surveillance", however, has still not gone away. News piped through to the Devukha Dungeon that in Italy imprudent mobile calls and text messages were catching out many a cheating spouse. There's even a private detective agency which specialises in this kind of work. As a sad fuck with no love-life to speak of at present, this is hardly an issue but, hey, I'll bear it in mind.

And so, to bed (I wish)... with a smug grin at the media's belated attention and predicatable reaction to one of my former LOTDs. Sick cartoons are unlikely to give me nightmares (unless they happen to be of the pervy manga variety). At the moment, I'm far more likely to wake up in a cold sweat dreaming of this foul excrescence.

Oh I can't end with a bad taste in my mouth... so I'll just have to recycle some stereotype reinforcing amusement from b3ta as ever: