I was physically assaulted in the street on the way home from the pub just now…
… by an extremely tiny puppy, who ran up behind me and collided with the backs of my legs, provoking a loud yell of surprise before I realised I hadn't been harmed in any way.
How sweet. But also rather unexpected and startling; it must surely have noticed that there was something in its way?
<em>and<cite>depending on whether I'm emphasising something or referring to something someone else said, even though both are usually rendered as italic. I will drop back to<i>in cases where neither of those reasons for italic is the one I'm thinking of, notably when I'm typing an equation and care about it enough to italicise the variable names. (Ideally I'd switch into MathML at that point, but it's not yet sensible to do so.)The aim, in principle, is to arrange that if someone imposes a different CSS stylesheet on the page in their browser configuration, and it happens to treat those tags differently from each other (unlike the default one), then it should all look nice for them. I strongly suspect that in fact nobody is doing anything of the sort, but switching tags depending on context has become entirely habitual to me and I barely notice I'm doing it except when I momentarily can't decide which one is appropriate...
Sorry, I'm interested in all this stuff! Tell me if I'm taking it too seriously! :D
There's the child who talked to his mum on the phone and hadn't grasped the idea that when he pointed at something at his end and said "it looks like that, mummy" she couldn't see what he could see. Then there's the child who said it wasn't fair mummy because she had to get her own stuff ready for school every day and mummy never got it ready for her, which could conceivably have been conscious selfishness but I prefer to interpret it as an understanding of the concept of fair division of labour without a corresponding understanding of the fact that mummy also has to do a hell of a lot of her own work that the child (perhaps wilfully) isn't seeing.
So my one-line comment at the top of this thread was intended to suggest that the child thought it would be a fair division of labour if the child made the effort to avoid stationary objects and moving objects made the effort to avoid the child (and, like the second example above, didn't consider that the moving objects had other stuff of their own to do and the labour to be divided did not solely consist of stopping things crashing into that particular child), and also that the child hadn't realised that even if this were the case the moving people would need to notice the child there before they could make the effort to avoid the collision (like the first example above, failing to draw the distinction between what they can see and what other people can see).
It wasn't intended as a serious theory (since I was consciously conflating behaviour of very differently aged children), but it was vaguely intended to bear enough relation to actual childish thought-errors that parents reading it might grin ruefully.
But I was a bit drunk last night, and a bit lazy, and half of the above thought process happened in my subconscious without bothering to reveal its working to my conscious mind, so I didn't really communicate any of that very effectively :-)
But this kind of thing *is* fascinating. I love the way that all the bits of mental kit jumble themselves into place and start producing Thought...
LOL, well described, that's how so often I say something, sometimes two often, but can find it difficult to convey.
I would have guessed that children observe moving objects generally *do* miss them -- eg. legs conveniently go round them, etc, and now expect that (not yet able to spot the exceptions of when the leg's teleoperator didn't see them, nor realising that it might be nice to take some of the responsibility).
I cycled into a dog once (fortunately not hard. it ran off again apparently unhurt) when it failed to get out of my way as I was expecting it to. The two ladies walking it didn't seem remotely bothered.
The toddler walks into lots of things, moving and still, but is excellent at climbing.