One never knows how close one has been to —
(Thursday, 4 June 2026. Original text in Spanish, followed by own English translation. — It quotes a video from @AlertaMundoNews about Vivian Wilson - Elon Musk’s transgender daughter - abruptly leaving an interview in Ibiza after being asked about her father)
«Yur fáder, de bés, ¿no?»
Aunque el vídeo apareció en Twitter (Para ti) cual firme candidato para mi hilo sobre el terrible oído de los españoles, debemos advertir que el de este reportero (de inequívocamente española pregunta a Vivian Wilson) no es necesariamente un caso de «un oído enfrente del otro», o al menos, no necesariamente en la acepción musical de esta expresión (y del citado hilo). Sé de muchos que pronuncian de esa manera y sin embargo entienden el inglés correctamente hablado, de lo cual se deduce que oído no les falta.
¿Y entonces qué les pasa? ¿Por qué pronuncian así?… ¿Es por impedimento muscular? ¿Respiratorio, nervioso…? ¿Les da vergüenza hablar bien? ¿Se sienten ridículos, pedantes, incómodos, incluso cuando es a angloparlantes nativos a quienes se están dirigiendo?
Hay un hecho que podría estar relacionado —o no— con lo de estas personas que tienen oído pero hablan como si no lo tuvieran. Da mucha rabia y no puede sino vivirse como una injusticia indignante y surrealista pero, a poco que uno lo piense con distancia, verá que tiene todo el sentido del mundo.
Es el hecho habitual de que (por ejemplo) un británico no entienda a un español que le habla en un inglés CASI perfecto, mientras que no le cuesta seguir el hilo a los terroristas de la pronunciación, especialmente aquellos que sueltan las palabras tal como se escriben.
Y eso tiene sentido porque el británico sabe cómo se escribe su idioma, pero no sabe qué puede estar tratando de decirle el que pronuncia casi perfectamente.
Son solo los que tengan conocimiento de ambas lenguas (la inglesa y la castellana) los que sí podrían ver el casi, el grado y el mérito de la aproximación, no el británico: el británico solo identificará su idioma si lo oye o tal como se escribe o tal como se pronuncia con exactitud, de la misma manera que uno no sabe lo cerca que han estado de pasar muchas, muchísimas cosas que finalmente no pasaron.
•
Although this video turned up on my Twitter For You feed as a strong contender for my Thread about the Terrible Ear of the Spanish, I should point out that this reporter, however unmistakably Spanish, is not necessarily an example of having one ear facing the other — or at least not in the musical sense in which that expression is used in Spain (and in my thread).
I know plenty of people who pronounce English like that and yet understand perfectly well when it is spoken properly. Which suggests that they do, in fact, have a good ear.
So what is it, then? Why do they speak like that? Is it some sort of muscular limitation? A problem with breathing, with the nerves…? Are they embarrassed to pronounce English properly? Do they feel ridiculous, pretentious or self-conscious, even when they are speaking to native English speakers?
There is one curious fact which may — or may not — be connected with people who have a good ear yet speak as though they had none. It is deeply frustrating and feels almost absurdly unfair, but if we stop and think about it from a little distance, it makes perfect sense.
It is the familiar phenomenon whereby, say, an Englishman may struggle to understand a Spanishman speaking ALMOST flawless English, while having little difficulty following the pronunciation terrorists — especially those who simply pronounce English words exactly as they are spelt.
And that makes sense, because the Englishman knows how his language is written, but he has no way of knowing what someone who pronounces it almost perfectly is trying to say.
Only people who know both languages (English and Spanish) can appreciate the almost, the degree of approximation, and the achievement involved. The Englishman cannot. He will recognise his language only if he hears it either as it is written or as it is pronounced accurately — in much the same way that we never know how close countless things came to happening when, in the end, they never did.
(See: The girl from the last summer of all summers.)
(Thursday, 5 September 2024)
I took that goodbye in January very seriously, although one never knows how close one has been to death. Perhaps I am more so now, but the pressure I put on myself with that matter was inhuman and it marked my holiday, to the extent of making it even worse than the work time.
I only managed to add a monstrous anxiety to the desolation, and in such conditions it was already physically impossible to live: one had to take the step immediately, or on the contrary, change the plan with equal urgency.
(It would have been better said: one never knows how close one has been to death — even when it’s death by one’s own hand.)
(Tuesday, 9 June 2026)
The probable can be understood as a series of degrees within the realm of possibility, but the improbable is not a degree within the impossible — nor towards the impossible. The improbable is the least probable, the lowest degree of the possible, but that doesn’t mean closer to the impossible: the impossible has no degrees and exerts no kind of magnetism, attraction, or alteration on the possible (regardless of how probable the possibility in question may be).
Thus, for example, it’s possible that there is a high probability that you will commit suicide at any moment and that, at the same time, it is impossible for you to commit suicide.
— There is, very obviously, some rhetorical liberty in my example. A poetic excess to express an excessive example. Strictly speaking, of course, something that is highly probable is possible, and since it is possible, it cannot be impossible at the same time.
It’d also be interesting to discuss how, in the eyes of an omniscient Observer, the only contradiction of the impossible would not be with the possible, but with the necessary.
Distortion from being too close to silence:
I’m perfectly aware, and I blush, on the edge of an impossible silence. So close to silence that everything might sound distorted. (16 December 2021)
These words form an interesting counterpoint, since we do know that the voice falters and becomes hoarser as its volume decreases — towards silence.