Vort

Indeed.  Theirs are smaller.  (It's a little island nation, and if their gallons were as large as ours, they'd have to have fewer, you know - so they decided to have just as many, but to make each one smaller, so they'd fit.  It's perfectly logical, really.)

Must be something about the English language that resists metric. Our neighboring Canuckians aren't really 100% metric, either. They blame us for being a bad influence, but we know the truth. It's those French Canadians (from French Canadia) who pull them down the dark metric path.
Since we also have eight pints to a gallon (though we rarely talk about pints unless we're dealing with cottage cheese or, perhaps, alcoholic beverages -- a Mormon boy wouldn't know much about the latter), am I to understand that our gallons are different?

In case anyone has wondered his or her entire life about the strange name of the Jethro Tull song I referenced above, here is an old photograph of locomotive breath.

Led Zeppelin, "Bring It On Home"
Jethro Tull, "Locomotive Breath"
 
Brothers Four, "Five Hundred Miles"
 

Hipster Santa looks like Waldo hasn't discovered a razor in four years.

That's sad. (And bad.) Makes me mad. -Signed, Dad

So it was a fad to be of Gad?

Seriously though, Americans visiting the UK assume that we are all metricated here, and that they'll have to talk in meters and kilograms and kilometres. They even fret about how they're going to cope. And when they get here they're surprised that our speed limits are always in miles per hour, and that we buy our milk and beer in pints. (Though the British and American pints are not quite the same.)
Metrication only went so far in Britain, and it was always a half-hearted effort. I had the misfortune of going to school during the mid 70s when the metrication drive was at its height and ONLY metric was ever taught (even though no one outside schools ever used it). Once when I went to the sweet shop I asked how much aniseed balls cost, and was told "10p a quarter" I naturally asked "a quarter of what?", for which the two women serving had a lengthy and not-very-nice laugh at me. My younger brother had a similar experience at the barbers when he asked for "a centimetre off". (" Har Har har what's a centimetre? Har Har..." etc.) On another occasion (sorry I'm really in rant-mode now) we had a school field trip to a farm, where the farmer's wife (who was showing us around) was horrified that none of us knew that there were 8 pints in a gallon. (Luckily on that occasion the teacher was on hand to explain that we wouldn't know something like that.) And when I was an apprentice the regulations said we had to learn to read metric drawings, even though you never saw them anywhere in the factory outside the apprentice school. 
Admittedly we now buy petrol (gasoline) in litres, and weather forecasts always give the temperature in Celsius, but we still specify our bodyweight in pounds (except in hospitals where they usually use kg) and our heights in feet and inches. To put it simply it's now a metric/Imperial muddle.

Pound the point home, brother! Don't give an inch!

The multisyllabic words are a big turnoff, too. Foot, mile, pound, ounce -- easy.

I have to admit, it's even funnier when you explain it.

I resemble that remark.
It sometimes occurs to me that new members to the board assume I'm a pretty young woman. I get a kick out of that.

Pound the point home, brother! Don't give an inch!

Mixing units gets entertaining; found a steel reference the other day that was giving plate weights for given thicknesses in kilograms per square foot.

A father and son once went to Washington and sat in while the Senate opened its session.  The son asked, "Daddy, does the chaplain pray for the Senate?"
"No, son.  The chaplain looks at the Senate, and then he prays for the country."

I have to admit, it's even funnier when you explain it.

Now you know how Dasher got his name.

I took organic chemistry in a huge room, probably 100+ students. On the first day, the professor invited us to find a seat and then sit there for each class the rest of the semester. He then mapped out all the chairs and wrote the name of the student in each seat. Thereafter, when lecturing, he would call on people by name. I thought it was a brilliant system.
I have noticed wherever I have lived that people tend to sit in the same seats in the chapel, in Sunday School classes, and in Priesthood quorum meetings. You could do something similar and make yourself out an informal map with the names of people at or near where they sit. If you don't know their names, go ask them! That might also be a good time to ask if they would be willing to e.g. pray or answer questions, if you're afraid they might not.

David was a king who
married lots of women.
Then he saw Bathsheba
while she was a'swimmin'.
David thought Bathsheba's
looks were pretty swell.
So he killed her husband, 
And now he's in -- heck.

Metric is miles better than Imperial!

Here's a great example of someone attempting to fight the good fight on enemy grounds.
http://mormanity.blogspot.com/2016/12/the-church-in-changing-world-robert.html

One of the basic precepts of war, so well-known and obvious that even I know it, is that it is easier to fight a defensive battle than an offensive battle. Put another way, it's easier to fight on one's own ground than on enemy grounds.
Yet so often, we in the Church insist on taking on our religious critics and defending the Church on enemy grounds. For example, I see that MormonHub has a new article on black (African-American) LDS history. The article itself seems reasonable enough. I suppose this issue must be addressed, and it must be addressed in an accessible way that people understand. Yet the thrust of such articles always boils down to explaining and defending actions that people today think are "bad". We try to justify ourselves in past Church actions in terms of race, prejudice, bigotry, and evolving social mores. Yet these have little, perhaps nothing, to do with the underlying realities that must be addressed, things like divine will and personal agency. Nevertheless, we studiously avoid all mention of such things, and for good reason: We Don't Know What We're Talking About. That's a pretty safe strategy. But then we blow it by engaging on these other ancillary issues and trying to explain the actions of the kingdom of God according to a mortal, carnal, largely irrelevant paradigm.
Why do we do this? I think the answer is that we are conditioned to approach issues in certain terms ("worldly" terms, I would argue), so therefore both ourselves and our critics consider things from that "carnal" viewpoint. There is probably a better way of approaching these topics -- in fact, probably many better ways -- but we are not conditioned to see them.
I served a mission to Italy, and found it extremely difficult to learn the language. (Ironic, given that Italian is among the easiest foreign languages for Americans to learn.) It finally sunk in, and what I found when I was actually able to communicate fluently was that Italians think differently about things than Americans do because of their different language. To some, this may seem obvious; yet after my mission, I remember reading an article that argued vociferously against the idea, insisting that people create their language to reflect their ideas, not the other way around. I was stunned at such naivete, which seemed to me to be willful ignorance. Of course the verbal tokens we use to represent ideas shape how we think of them! It's self-evident!
This is what I believe is going on when we take the fight (so to speak) onto enemy grounds. To do so, we implicitly accept all the unspoken assumptions built into those viewpoints. This puts us at an obvious and dangerous disadvantage. For example, when we accept the common Goodthink that women must be "equal to" (i.e. identical with) men, then we are immediately on the defensive regarding why women don't hold the Priesthood -- a clear inequality. We are forced to come up with explanations that sort of dance around the central issue. Maybe women will get the Priesthood in the next life! Maybe women are too righteous and don't NEED the Priesthood! Maybe women already hold the Priesthood! Maybe the Priesthood itself isn't "real", just a game God gave us to try to help us organize things!
Of course, there are better ways to approach this issue. The safest and most obvious route is to say, "God gave the Priesthood to men, and those men are to exercise in behalf of all." This approach does not respond to the question of "why" -- and for a good reason: "Why" questions are philosophical and mechanistic in nature. God reveals philosophical truths individually, when a person is ready and able to understand. And from what I can tell, God rarely or never reveals mechanistic questions, e.g. How does Christ atone for our sins?
Both by commandment and by simple love for others, we must engage with those outside the gospel, and do so using linguistic tokens they understand. Yet it is dangerous and foolish to attempt to establish gospel truths on the short-sighted, constantly shifting sand of current public viewpoints. I am not sure where the balance is found, but until we recognize the disadvantages of fighting on enemy grounds, our effectiveness is sure to be limited.

Centimeters are for girly men who cry at movies and change their underwear every day. I spit upon your centimeters!
Now go away, or I shall taunt you a second time.
 

Elephant jokes are:
Awesome Unidirectional Both of the above

Centimeters are for girly men who cry at movies and change their underwear every day. I spit upon your centimeters!
Now go away, or I shall taunt you a second time.