Come And See Subtitles Download

[Mary Hargrove]

Yesit is sadly. However, Jamie has already given the answer to his question - you would want subtitles, in the same language as the dialog, for language learners. We are planning to produce special subtitles, tailored to the needs of language learners, in contrast to the common subtitles, which, actually, have been designed for the needs of hearing disabled or hard-to-hear people.

Here in USA or Canada it is not a problem to get a movie on DVD in English with the English subtitles. To the contrary, it is nearly a rule that a movie on DVD will come with the subtitles. And the reason are the laws about the hearing disabled people and people with disabilities. (The laws do not oblige to put subtitles on DVD, but they demand to subtitle nearly any movie to be shown on TV. So putting subtitles on a DVD, which is very cheap in comparison to the cost of the movie, may be considerd a tradition. I believe the DVD subtiltling is also, at least in the case of American and British films, a source of an additional profit for the manufacturers, because not only the hearing disable people, but much more numerous non-native speakers and learners of English look for them .

I am really curious to find it out. Is it indeed difficult to find German movies on DVD with the German subtitles in Germany? Spanish movies on DVD with the Spanish subtitles in Spain? Italian in Italy, etc (sorry for etc :-). Please share your experince, dear Lingquers.

Hi Jamie,

Look at www.amazon.de for German DVDs.

Also a lot of the DVDs on the British amazon come with German audio and subtitles.

It is definitely not a problem to get DVDs with audio and subtitles in German. DVDs that I buy here have usually both!

One way to get DVD with German subtitles may be to look for co-productions. I know that there are a few films which are French/German/British co-productions, Then there are the Italian/German ones etc etc.

So when I watch videos/movies online with subtitles on my iPad, everything is fine. But as soon as I use the airplay feature, the video and audio go on my television screen perfectly, but the subtitles do not show on the screen like how they normally do on my iPad. Does anyone know the solution to this? I've turned on subtitles by going to settings > General > Accessibility but that didn't do anything. I also held select down but the message i received was "subtitles are not available for this content". Why am I able to see the subtitles when watching the iPad normally but not when using airplay?

I don't think you can fix this. When you AirPlay, the video stream identifier is sent to ATV, which connects and plays it. But that stream is just the movie. When you view it in the browser, the CC are being merged into the video by the server. Without a browser on ATV, there's no way to request the CC. Sorry.

Are the subtitles part of the video or are you receiving them from a separate file? If it's a separate file, the iPad app is merging them with the video for your display. But AirPlay is just downloading the video stream from the internet, and doesn't know anything about the other file.

HI! Old Q I know but the subs are called up on the Apple tv, not the iPad / iPhone. The answer fan be found in the Apple KB. Hold the silver Button down a second or two. Or tap the corresponding area on the new remote.

the ATV does not simply mirror the iOS Units screen when a movie is watched. The server is asked to stream directly to the ATV. So the ATV has to ask for subs. Unfortunately i have not been able to set a preference. Also. Less scrupolous sites for streaming does not have their streaming server set up correctly. ?

We all know the origin story of sandwiches: the 18th-century Earl of Sandwich, a wise man named John, started asking his staff to serve him meat bookended with bread to make for quick meals. Rumors persist that he did this to facilitate all-day gambling sessions, but his modern-day ancestors insist he was just a busy guy.

But for Super Bowl weekend, we don't just care about plain old sandwiches. We want foot-long (or six-foot-long) meat- and cheese-stuffed flavor bombs, those super-sandwiches we call "subs." Or "hoagies," or "grinders," or "po' boys," or "spuckies," or, if you're from Yonkers, "wedges." It's just one genre of sandwich, really, so why all the names, and where did they come from?

Well, back before big brands and big chains steamrolled "local color" into variations on beige, there was room for every American city to come up with its own name for a full-loaf sandwich filled with cold cuts, and most areas with large Italian immigrant populations did just that. While some of the names' origins are pretty basic, myths have swarmed to these sandwiches like flies on honey--so here, in no particular order, are the facts and fictions of our favorite sandwich's names:

But the best myth puts the ground zero of subbery in New London, CT, around World War II. The city (well, technically the town of Groton, across the river from the city proper) is home to the Navy's primary submarine base and a large shipbuilding yard, both of which were understandably bustling during the war. According to this story, the big sandwich itself was invented by an Italian shopkeeper named Benedetto Capaldo in New London, but was originally known as a "grinder." Once the sub yard started ordering 500 sandwiches a day from Capaldo to feed its workers, the sandwich became irrevocably associated with submersible boats.

A nice story, but the OED's first printed record of "submarine sandwich" dates to a January 1940 phone book for Wilmington, DE, where a restaurant was advertising "submarine sandwiches to take out." Seeing as how we didn't mobilize for WWII until two years later, that pretty much torpedoes the New London legend.

Grinder: You're most likely to find one of these in New England, though the more common "sub" has taken over most of the terrain. "Grinder" shares some flimsy nautical roots with the sub--some claim that it was named for "grinders," Italian-American slang for dockworkers (who were often sanding and grinding rusty hulls to repaint them)--but the more widely attested origin is about the sandiwch itself. Subs, with their Italian bread and piles of fixings, were harder to chew through than your typical ham and cheese on white bread. That toothsomeness got translated into "grinder," since that's what your teeth had to do to get through a bite.

Hero: Native to New York, the hero has two main origin stories. First, there's the logical speculation that it's a warped pronunciation of "gyro," the Greek sandwich with spit-roasted meat. But the term is attested back to the late '40s, and Greek gyros only made a splash in American food culture in the '60s, and even that began in Chicago. And maybe more importantly, all of these sandwiches are essentially Italian creations. The odds that a New Yorker in the '40s would mistake a Greek establishment for an Italian one are approximately nil.

The real hero's journey began with the wonderfully named Clementine Paddleworth, who probably coined the word in a food column for the New York Herald Tribune in 1936, since the sandwich was so large "you had to be a hero to eat it." Since the NYHT went belly-up in 1966, there aren't any searchable archives online, but an enterprising food historian out there could go check out Rutgers University's microfilm archive to pin this one down for good. Barry Popik, on OED contributor and general food word expert, traces the word back to a 1937 Lexicon of Trade Jargon published by the WPA, which describes "hero" as "armored car guards jargon" for a big sandwich. That throws a little doubt on the Paddleworth Hypothesis, since it's unlikely a bunch of armored car guards would just pick up words from the paper willy-nilly, but the underlying "gotta be a hero to eat it" is still a strong contender.

Hoagie: This is the home-grown Philadelphia term for the big Italian sandwich, and has picked up not one but four explanations for its origin. The first two, strangely mirroring the "sub" story, start at the Philadelphia Navy Yard. The Yard was located on a chunk of land once known as Hog Island, so the workers there were accordingly called "hoggies." This was an early spelling of the local sandwich, and the story goes that the many Italian immigrant Navy Yard workers ate enough of them to get the thing named after themselves. Alternately, "hoagie" is said to come from "Hogan," in two different ways. First, it was a common Irish name, and became a nickname for the Irish immigrant Navy Yard workers, so like with "hoggie," they supposedly named it after themselves. Or, another story goes, a mug named Hogan asked a coworker who was always chowing down on delicious Italian sandwiches if he could start getting the lucky guy's wife to make an extra for him every day, and the name somehow stuck.

But considering that the Hog Island Navy Yard shut down in the '20s, and "hoagies" didn't start making the rounds in print until the '40s, that's fairly unlikely. I'll admit, it's weird that hoagies, subs, and grinders would all have apocryphal stories related to dockworkers, but the dates really don't line up on this one.

Instead, the real origin is more likely to go back to a jazz musician turned sandwich shop owner named Al De Palma. In the late '20s, he saw some fellow hepcats eating a sub, and commented to himself that you "had to be a hog" to eat a sandwich that big. So when he opened a sub shop during the Depression, he started calling his big sandwiches "hoggies," and eventually opened chains across the city. As for why "hoggie" turned to "hoagie," the best explanation out there is probably the Philadelphia accent itself. Ever heard those guys talk?

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