Monday, April 20, 2009

Stirring Up Hook

Dr. Pauly's "Tao of Poker" blog recently included a Babel Fish translation of a text from its original French to something akin to English. Babel Fish is renowned for producing unusual prose and it occurred to me that when dealing with poker lingo the online translator would have a particularly tough time. So I carried out a few experiments.

In order to establish the reliability of Babel Fish poker translations (hereafter BFPTs - I used to work for NASA and have never outgrown acronyms), I used it to translate text from English to a second language and then back to English again. Clearly if BFPTs were perfect the text produced by this process would be identical to that entered.

The fundamental finding of this research is that BFPTs are not perfect.

German provides a particular challenge. The English word "poker" is translated not as the card game but as the object that you use to poke a fire. Which, thanks to German compound nouns, is re-translated back into English as "stirring up hook." Now at some level this all makes perfect sense. A poker is indeed a sort of hook that is used to stir up ashes and coals and so forth. However it does represent a central problem for the reliability of German BFPTs.

To provide an example and simultaneously avoid copyright infringement I used Babel Fish to translate a portion of my April 9th blog from English to German to English. The original text is:

Behind door number 2: cocktail waitresses with fake tits and free drinks, people who are bad at math who came here of their own volition and not because of a university Gen Ed requirement, bathrooms that always have enough paper towels and that are free from the angry scrawl of students who just failed my class and see fit to describe in fourth-grade handwriting and grammar their theories about how I am gay and/or nailing that girl in the front row in the denim miniskirt that they wanted to nail but never got anywhere because the girl in question found them indistinguishable from all the other terminally dull guys in baseball caps and sweatshirts, and... oh yes, sorry, I digressed. Behind door number 2: POKER.

The German BFPT of this passage is:

Behind door No. 2: Cocktail waitresses with falsified Tits and freely beverages, people, which are bad at Mathe, which came of their own expression of will and not because of a requirement Universitätsgen OD, bathroom, the always sufficient Papiertücher have and of the annoyed Scrawl of the class participants, the straight my category and fit, around in the fourth degrees handwriting and in the grammar to describe their theories left survey, how I am homosexual and/or am free the nailing of this girl in the first row in the Denimminirock, which they wanted to nail, but never received, everywhere because the girl, that nisht found them too differentiating of all other chaps in the baseball caps and the Sweatshirts, blunt at the end and… oh, is sadly questionable, I deviated. Behind door No. 2: STIRRING UP HOOK.

Given that I have a tendency to employ long, rambling, run-on sentences that frequently, but not always, include multiple nested clauses, it occurred to me that using my own prose to test BFPTs was not entirely fair. So I found some relatively simple questions involving poker and carried out BFPTs through various languages. The original questions in English and the BFPT results are presented below.

Some critical questions when playing poker: How big are the blinds? At what level do the antes kick in? How often should I defend my blinds? How do I build my chip stack? Who is the chip leader at the table? Are my opponents good poker players?


BFPT via German:

Some critical questions, if stirring up hook is played: Are the curtains as large? On which level does the Antes step inside? How often should I mean curtains to defend? How establish do I mean splinter piles? Who is the splinter leader at the table? Are my competitors good stirring up hook players?


BFPT via French:

Some critical questions while playing poker: How much large are the lamp-shade? To which level the settings do give a kick inside? How much times I should defend my lamp-shade? How I build my pile of piece? Who is the chief of piece to the table? Are my adversaries good players of poker?


BFPT via Italian:

Some critical questions when they play mace: How much large they are the blind people? To that level the advance payments gives of soccer within? Every how much time I would have to defend my blind people? How I construct my battery of the integrated circuit? Who is the head of the integrated circuit to the table? Are my adversaries good players of mace?

All of this raises a troubling issue. I coach poker players many of whom have first languages other than English. When I tell them "stealing the blinds allows you to add poker chips to your stack" do they instead hear one of the following BPFTs?


To steal the blind people allows that you add the integrated circuits of mace to your battery.

Theft of the curtains permits you to add stirring up hook splinters to your pile.

The flight of the lamp-shade allows you to add pieces of poker to your pile.

Stealing the zonneblinden permits you add pookspaanders to your battery.

The theft of blinds allows in you in order to adds the chips poker in your pile.

That you steal blind, it makes that the tip/chip for the poker is added to your accumulation possible.

To steal the curtains allows that you add chips of póquer its stack.

To steal shutters makes possible for you to add to [oblomoki] of poker to your stack.


I should emphasize that my research into BFPTs is in its early stages and I have few conclusions at this point. With a sufficiently large Federal grant I would be prepared to devote myself to this project. However, it is my personal feeling that anyone attempting to apply BFPTs to Omaha terminology should be discouraged. Asking Babel Fish to get its gums around "a nut low draw with an inside wheel wrap and twin backdoor flush draws" strikes me as cruel and unusual punishment.

Friday, April 10, 2009

Small Sue's Pet Raccoon

In addition to playing poker I am also a moderator at a poker forum. The duties are minimal. Occasionally I use my powers to ban someone for threatening to kill another forum member or for posting naked pictures of my step sister. Other than that my main role is to assist new members in finding their way around the site and to provide input on poker theory.

A new member signed up today. "Small Sue." She claims to be from Arkansas and 4'7" tall which certainly qualifies as small. It is of course quite possible that she is lying. I am sure I am not the only one who has carried out a long and flirtatious cyber-relationship only to discover that Anna-the-exotic-dancer from Newport is actually Sully-the-lobster-fisherman from Bangor. However, someone claiming to be extremely short didn't strike me as a security threat to the forum so I approved her request to join.

A couple of hours later the conversation appended below occurred in the forum shoutbox. I have left the original text unedited since I think it is necessary to fully appreciate the episode and apologize if this makes the conversation difficult to follow in places. I don't know if Small Sue is severely dyslexic, typing whilst wearing mittens, or simply lacking in a formal education. I do not judge, I merely reproduce the text below.

Small Sue: hello?

Small Sue: anyon hree?

Small Sue: i gota pitcher

Small Sue: cn smoone hlp?

Feline 9ine: hi sue

Small Sue: i gt a picrur

Small Sue: i wanna pos tit


Feline 9ine: that's fine we have a board for pictures - go to 'Lounge' then 'The Real Me'

Small Sue: it aint of me ist f risky

Small Sue: ricy

Small Sue: ricky

Feline 9ine: our software won't mind you can go ahead and post it

Small Sue: his mty racoon

Small Sue: pet

Small Sue: how od i post a pitchr?

Feline 9ine: click 'New Topic' then when the composition box comes up click 'additional options.' then follow the instructions for uploads

Small Sue: ths is cunfusrng

Feline 9ine: okay this picture of risky is on your puter, yeah?

Small Sue: is nmae is ricky

Feline 9ine: my sincere apologies, ricky

Small Sue: so how do ip ost it? im not grate wth cumptures

Count Stackula: hey 9ine can you tran me 3 bills at Stars for Tilt dollas?

Feline 9ine: sure

Count Stackula: no rush u can take care of this raccoon issue first - thx m8

Feline 9ine: np, gl

Small Sue: [pl[53

Small Sue: qwewrfas

Small Sue: ,.

Feline 9ine: sue?


Small Sue: helol

Feline 9ine: ricky get on your keyboard?

Small Sue: no it fall on th thing nd we had to relaees ricky e got rael frsky chewd joes pole and riggl

Small Sue: but he wulds dyed withuot us th tree he was in com down nd is momma and the othre babies dyed so i nerly calld im lukcy but as ym sis says it aint rela lucky when yur famly all dyes in a axcident

Feline 9ine: is there anyone there who helps you with the puter?

Small Sue: yeh my husbnd joe

Feline 9ine: ok why don't you get joe and i'll explain the upload to him

Small Sue: his in iduhoe

Feline 9ine: Idaho?

Small Sue: yeah idaho sry iam so so allurtrat it aint funyn

Feline 9ine: i beg to differ but let's not lose sight of your raccoon - i have a plan B

Small Sue: his a turcker joe is taht is why he aint hear his in idaho

Small Sue: big 17-weeler

Small Sue: q8

Small Sue: 18


Feline 9ine: sue do you know how to use e-mail?

Small Sue: yeh im not sutpid

Feline 9ine: i didn't mean to imply - look - just e-mail it to me at feline9ine@sunmail i'll handle it from there

Small Sue: who do i do taht?

Feline 9ine: ok compose a e/m to me, then do you see a little paper clip above the place where you type?

Small Sue: yeh

Feline 9ine: click that then it'll ask you what you wanna upload and you choose the picture


At this juncture there was a ten minute pause during which time several
IM boxes on my computer popped up with forum members inquiring whether this was an elaborate hoax. Then the picture of Ricky Raccoon arrived. While there are raccoons living in my neighborhood I've never seen one up close and have always had a cartoon image of them. A sort of cross between a panda and a kitten. The reality took me by surprise.

Small Sue: i thnik i done it

Small Sue: did yu gte it?

Feline 9ine: success!

Small Sue: THANK U ! wear is it on teh frum?

Feline 9ine: just a sec, uploading now

Feline 9ine: okay sue go to the 'The Real Me' board you were at before and you'll see a new link

Feline 9ine: i've titled it 'Small Sue's Raccoon'

Feline 9ine: i guess we should be thankful that you didn't rescue a beaver




Thursday, April 9, 2009

Door Number AA23 double-suited

Here in the Free State of Kansas we are experiencing "Spring." It's a petulant season. Within the last ten days we've had a severe thunderstorm, freezing rain, an afternoon of cloudless skies and a slight breeze ruffling the daffodils as the temperature hovered in the mid-very-nice-indeeds, and graupel. That's not a typo whatever Microslush tells you. 'Graupel' is a real form of frozen precipitation invented in Germany.

Fortunately I slept through it.

I had no choice. PokerStars has seen fit to entertain the poker world with its Spring Championship of Online Poker (SCOOP) and since playing poker is my only means of providing my cats with kibbles and me with boots I was compelled to participate. Work all night and sleep all day or have howling moggies and wear sandals.

I've tried the other kind of working and frankly it didn't suit my constitution. For a while I was a university professor. Then I had an epiphany. I realized that if I was going to earn my living exploiting the mathematical ineptitude of others I could either continue teaching or devote my considerable intellect to the Holy Game of Poker. I compared the office facilities associated with the two options.

Behind door number 1: A computer, a carpet stained with undrinkable state university coffee, a suicide note, a phone that never stops ringing ("Professor... um... yeah it's Shannon... in your class... er... Astrology? Sorry Astronomy. Yeah that. Okay so about the mid-term. I really wanted to be there cos, like, I studied all the material and even bought the book. You wrote that, huh? Wow. Heh. Um. Yeah... Oh! So, you know the Red Lobster on 59th Street? Yeah, next to the..." CLICK), mounds of ungraded papers, invitations from Deans and Vice Provosts to attend "Working Breakfasts! Let us enrich you so you can enrich your students!"

Behind door number 2: cocktail waitresses with fake tits and free drinks, people who are bad at math who came here of their own volition and not because of a university Gen Ed requirement, bathrooms that always have enough paper towels and that are free from the angry scrawl of students who just failed my class and see fit to describe in fourth-grade handwriting and grammar their theories about how I am gay and/or nailing that girl in the front row in the denim miniskirt that they wanted to nail but never got anywhere because the girl in question found them indistinguishable from all the other terminally dull guys in baseball caps and sweatshirts, and... oh yes, sorry, I digressed. Behind door number 2: POKER.

The odd thing about this decision, particularly given that I never did nail the girl in the front row in the denim miniskirt, was that it took me more than thirty seconds to decide on door number 2.

Doors, like Omaha-8, are notable for their bidirectionality. They allow the passage of bipeds, quadrupeds, thoughts, smells, bills, food, drink, and bowheads, both in and out. If a door ever runs for the office of President of the United States of America this apparent intrinsic ambivalence will doubtless be characterized as "flip-flopping" by Fox News. And the door that led me to Poker is no exception. In future blogs I will describe the adventures that commenced as I walked through that door, those that I had thought had ended but were in fact just resting, and adventures that have not yet begun.