Waves of sound and reading well
The functional whimsy of a sinusoidal brick wall.
Serpentine walls are apparently found in places in England, and even outside of the country. The wave pattern allows the mason to make a the wall a single brick thick without reinforcing the sides with either an additional brick layer or buttresses. Visually they're more striking to me, lending an air of naturalistic design and whimsy over a straight-lined wall. There's even a colloquial name for them: "crinkle crankle walls" or "crinkum crankum walls."
Speaking of waves (sound waves, that is), long ago it was common practice for reading to oneself to speak the words aloud. In fact, Augustine makes a reference to the strangeness of Ambrose doing this in Confessions:
But when Ambrose used to read, his eyes were drawn through the pages, while his heart searched for its meaning; however, his voice and tongue were quiet. Often when we were present—for anyone could approach him and it was not his habit that visitors be announced to him—we saw him reading in this fashion, silently and never otherwise.
I find it interesting to think about the way reading changes the way we perceive a text. Longer unbroken sentences become more labored the further they trail as we run out of breath — a situation only encountered when the words are spoken out loud. Sibilant words and diphthongs force our tongue into different positions while alliteration in poetry or prose becomes a surprisingly satisfying study in repetition, resonance, and rhythm. Chewing through the words of a book I read with my daughter out loud almost immediately reveals the skill of the author through even the most frivolous subject.
Diction isn't the only change, there's been a study showing that hearing oneself aids memory, and Kierkegaard encourages the reader in For Self-Examination to read aloud, if possible, because the words come from yourself, and thus change the authority of the author (or speaker, in this case):
My dear reader, read aloud, if possible! If you do so, allow me to thank you for it; if you not only do it yourself, if you also influence others to do it, allow me to thank each one of them, and you again and again! By reading aloud you will gain the strongest impression that you have only yourself to consider, not me, who, after all, am "without authority", nor others, which would be a distraction.
It's one reason why a spoken liturgy or catechesis (religious or otherwise) remains powerful to this day. Reading silently to yourself now prevails, and we've gained a rich inner life of literature. But does it come at a cost to some other form of community, authority, or retention?
Still on the topic of reading, Alistair Roberts has a short article on reading well as an act of love and hospitality. To which I'll add a quote from Arthur Schopenhauer about the art of not reading:
The art of not reading is a very important one. It consists in not taking an interest in whatever may be engaging the attention of the general public at any particular time. When some political or ecclesiastic pamphlet, or novel, or poem is making a great commotion, you should remember that he who writes for fools always finds a large public. — A precondition for reading good books is not reading bad ones: for life is short.
If reading well is an act of love and hospitality, then it stands that sometimes not reading at all can be a demonstration of dislike and discourtesy. Today it sounds like some popular authors may have to grapple with those that don't even read their books before weighing in.
Sound is an important part of our life, and there's an fascinating documentary about the power of it to shape perception of the world around us: 32 Sounds. Interestingly it exists in two different forms: one for a live audience complete with individual headphones and a live narration and music performance, another designed for at-home or theatrical experiencing. Pull on a pair of headphones if you can and check out the trailer for the film. I haven't watched the full documentary yet, but I'd like to when it becomes available.
To bring this chiastic structure to a close, keep your headphones on and check out the first Q&A answer in Adam Neely's most recent video about binaural beats, or essentially what happens when you play two different sine waves at the same time. Apparently this is partially how the Emergency Broadcast System achieves its ear-catching notifications.