The Taste of Formaldehyde Is Just Your Imagination

Behold the cutlery that diners use at a restaurant in Riga, Latvia. It’s owned by doctors, which explains the establishment's name: Hospitalis (“Hospital”). It also explains why diners sit at operating room “tables,” order off a menu written in Latin, and have their food delivered on gurneys.

As to the food, it’s designed to resemble human body parts whenever possible. For example, take this cake, which is festooned with fingers, tongues and human ears.

That might drive you to the bar, where you may be tempted by a Shirley Temple in a beaker. That slight aftertaste of formaldehyde? It’s just your imagination. Don't worry about the bill; I'm sure your health insurance will cover it!

Photos from News.com.au.

Verba Non Grata

Like a lot of people in the U.S., I woke up this morning thinking about the status of Latin in England’s towns. This concern stems from recent news that the Bournemouth Council has banned the use of nearly 20 Latin words and phrases from the mouths and pens of its local employees. The terms in question:
In addition to these, Salisbury has also banned ergo and QED (quod erat demonstrandum), and Fife has excommunicated ex officio (oh, good one!). While classics scholars have been soiling themselves and concocting the perfect Latin phrase to express their outrage, a spokesperson from the Plain English Campaign (a group that's appeared here before) praised the move:

“[It] is important to remember that the national literacy level is about 12 years old and the vast majority of people hardly ever use these terms. It is far better to use words people understand.”

Hmm. Instead of segregating Latin words out from English as sui generis (unique and unable to classify), why not be more inclusive? After all, don’t ALL the words in our dictionaries make English e pluribus unum? (Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa.)