More Palindromes, or perhaps just Symmetry

I just now began to write a post relating cell phones and concerts, but after completing only one paragraph, I went off on this completely unrelated tangent. Very quickly the digression grew longer than the actual article, so I decided to write a short post dedicated to that digression. I have discussed this topic before, but it only gets better with age.

Palindromes. How I love thee; let me count the ways. Or perhaps not; it would take far too long. Instead, let's dive right in.

The word "dub" is a special sort of palindrome - if you reverse the word completely (not just the order of the letters, but the letters themselves), it remains "dub" since d and b are reflections of each other. You could check to see if this works by writing a word on a piece of paper, holding it up to a mirror, and seeing if it is the same word in the mirror. Obviously it is difficult to find this kind of palindrome since many letters' reflections are not other letters. Some other examples are "bud," "A TOYOTA," and "mom," though the last two types only exhibit this property because all of the letters are individually bilaterally symmetrical. Personally I don't find them nearly as exciting as b's and d's switching places with each other.

Another strange type of of palindrome is exhibited by the word "pod." This time, if you stuck a needle through the center of the "o" (so the needle would be sticking straight into your computer screen...please don't try this at home - I fear lawsuits) and then rotated the word 180 degrees by twisting the needle, "pod" would remain "pod." In math we would call this symmetry about the origin. Unfortunately, I can't think of any other examples; there may not be any. So what I'm saying is that this point is completely useless, but it's still awesome.

It's sort of like learning Old English really well. There's a big list of words in Old English that are only ever used once in Old English, namely, in Beowulf. So you are reading Beowulf in Old English, come across a word you don't know, go to all the trouble of looking it up in a dictionary and making a flashcard, and then you realize that you will never, ever again need to know that word. I'd say it's still worth it. But I am rather strange.

Well, to close out, I was recently pointed to a long, palindromic poem by some comedian. It is surprisingly long. I think the poet should submit the poem to some modern poetry contest. It's sure to win - it makes no sense. But if he didn't say it was a palindrome and the judges didn't catch it (which I'm sure they wouldn't), it would be fantastic to see all those would-be poets pouring ridiculous, overwrought theories and interpretations all over a poem that has no meaning. (By the way, that poem read at Obama's inauguration was absolutely horrid. I just read it again online, and I retain my opinion. It ruined the moment, sapped it of life. In particular, the delivery was completely flat, devoid of spirit or passion. If a poet should know anything, it should be that poetry is meant to be both heard and seen, so if you speak it poorly, the poem is ruined. The poet, of all people, should be able to read her own poem well. Alas, it was not so. "Praise Song for the Day" ended up being a lifeless attempt at beauty.)

So here's the poem. Excuses its vulgarities - it's hard to make palindromes.

"Dammit I'm Mad" by Demetri Martin

Dammit I'm mad.
Evil is a deed as I live.
God, am I reviled? I rise, my bed on a sun, I melt.
To be not one man emanating is sad. I piss.
Alas, it is so late. Who stops to help?
Man, it is hot. I'm in it. I tell.
I am not a devil. I level "Mad Dog".
Ah, say burning is, as a deified gulp,
In my halo of a mired rum tin.
I erase many men. Oh, to be man, a sin.
Is evil in a clam? In a trap?
No. It is open. On it I was stuck.
Rats peed on hope. Elsewhere dips a web.
Be still if I fill its ebb.
Ew, a spider… eh?
We sleep. Oh no!
Deep, stark cuts saw it in one position.
Part animal, can I live? Sin is a name.
Both, one… my names are in it.
Murder? I'm a fool.
A hymn I plug, deified as a sign in ruby ash,
A Goddam level I lived at.
On mail let it in. I'm it.
Oh, sit in ample hot spots. Oh wet!
A loss it is alas (sip). I'd assign it a name.
Name not one bottle minus an ode by me:
"Sir, I deliver. I'm a dog"
Evil is a deed as I live.
Dammit I'm mad.