Linguistic thought of the day

theinkstainsblog:

missalsfromiram:

thereallieutenantcommanderdata:

runawaymarbles:

native English speakers don’t tend to say “yes.” 

My clients are about 50/50 native and non-native English speakers, and non-native English speakers are pretty much the only ones who say “yes” when I ask them a question.

Native English speakers almost always say “yeah” or “sure”, unless it’s for emphasis. (“Is now a good time?” “Sure” vs “Is this your first baby?” “Yes he is!!”) 

I’ve noticed that with yes and no. Both of those sound abrupt by themselves (“no” to a lesser extent than “yes”). “Did you do it?” “Yes”. To me, that would sound like someone who’s annoyed by the question, perhaps because it’s been asked repeatedly. For yes/no to work, they have to be followed by something else, like your example, or by a word like sir or ma’am.

I’ve reblogged a post like this before but I suspect this is an indication that the meanings of yes (and yeah) and no are actually changing – that English is undergoing a shift from a two-form affirmative-negative system to something else, such as an echo system (like Irish or Chinese uses) (except that in English we don’t have to repeat the whole verb, we can just use the auxiliary do).

I.e. this is why, I think, it’s so common for people to use “yeah, no” to deny something and “no, yeah, totally” to affirm something – “yeah” and “no” by themselves are too ambiguous, so we have to reinforce them by, for example, when we deny something, affirming the negative (“Yeah…”) and then denying the positive (“…no”), or when we affirm something, by denying the negative (“No…”) and then affirming the positive (“…yeah, totally!”). Maybe this kind of thing will stick around, or maybe it’ll shift to more of an echo system – I find myself saying “Yeah, I do” and “No, I don’t” a lot more than just the words “Yeah” and “No” by themselves.

This situation reminds me of how, when the Latin demonstratives were turning into articles, writers had to add additional decitic words to ille, illa, and illud in order to make their reference sufficiently specific – e.g. just “that man” by itself was starting to mean “the man”, so to mean “that man” they had to say things like “that aforementioned man” or “that particular man”.

Good tips for if your dialogue isn’t sounding realistic to your ear!

Don’t neglect the UK’s indigenous languages

elnas-studies:

viresqueacquiriteundo:

opalgemblog:

Signal boost for this! It’s the same in France. Most of french people don’t even know that their country is originally – and still is – a multilingual country. 

Yes,  Occitan, Catalan, Breton, Gallo, Flamand, Picard, Basque etc are still spoken. But France refuses to sign the European charter for minority languages. Good job destroying the cultural patrimony that we are so proud of.

“To say there is no worth in learning a language that isn’t economically
useful is like saying there’s no point in being friends with somebody
unless they’re going to help you get a better job. It’s a spectacular,
cynical miss of the point.
It’s also inaccurate.”

Don’t neglect the UK’s indigenous languages

astronomicae:

half-ace:

mournjargon:

rubyvroom:

This was the crossword puzzle in the New York Times yesterday. 

Tausig’s crossword is a so-called Schrödinger puzzle, named for the physicist’s hypothetical cat that is at once both alive and dead. In a Schrödinger puzzle, select squares have more than one correct letter answer: They exist in two states at once. “Black Halloween animal,” for example, could be both BAT or CAT, yielding two different but perfectly correct puzzles. Only 10 such puzzles have now been published in Times history.

It’s the theme of Tausig’s puzzle, though, that makes it special. Four entries in Thursday’s crossword can include either an “F” or an “M.” Both are correct; neither is wrong. For example, “Part of a house” can be either ROOF or ROOM. The long “revealer” answer, tying those select entries together and spanning 11 squares smack-dab in the middle of the puzzle, is GENDER FLUID.

This puzzle, with “M”s and “F”s that aren’t fixed, is a masterful blend of subject and structure. “It potentially really evokes what gender fluidity is, which is not moving back and forth between two poles, but actually not being committed to either pole, and potentially existing in many states at different times,” Tausig said.

This is … really cool.

i never really thought of crossword puzzles as an art form, but like… this is art.

a crossword puzzle based on schrodingers’ cat??? a phYSICS CONCEPT??? sign me tf up i love everything about this

How to pronounce Celtic words and names

batfacesalad:

science-of-noise:

allthingslinguistic:

prettyarbitrary:

madmaudlingoes:

prettyarbitrary:

breelandwalker:

rubyvroom:

literary-potato:

todosthelangues:

Step 1: Read the word.
Step 2: Wrong.

A REAL LIST OF ACTUAL NAMES AND THEIR (approximate) PRONUNCIATIONS:
Siobhan — “sheh-VAWN”
Aoife – “EE-fa”
Aislin – “ASH-linn”

Bláithín – “BLAW-heen”

Caoimhe – “KEE-va”

Eoghan – Owen (sometimes with a slight “y” at the beginning)

Gráinne – “GRAW-nya”

Iarfhlaith – “EER-lah”
Méabh – “MAYV”
Naomh or Niamh – “NEEV”
Oisín – OSH-een or USH-een
Órfhlaith – OR-la
Odhrán – O-rawn
Sinéad – shi-NAYD
Tadhg – TIEG (like you’re saying “tie” or “Thai” with a G and the end)

I work with an Aoife and I have been pronouncing it SO WRONG

As someone who is trying and failing to learn Gaelic, I feel like is an accurate portrayal of my pain.

This is the Anglicized spelling of a people who really fucking hate the English.

No, no, this is the orthographic equivalent of installing Windows on Mac.

The Latin alphabet was barely adequate for Latin by the time it got to the British Isles, but it’s what people were writing with, so somebody tried to hack it to make it work for Irish. Except, major problem: Irish has two sets of consonants, “broad” and “slender” (labialized and palatalized) and there’s a non-trivial difference between the two of them. But there weren’t enough letters in the Latin alphabet to assign separate characters to the broad and slender version of similar sounds.

Instead, someone though, let’s just use the surrounding vowels to disambiguate–but there weren’t enough vowel characters to indicate all the vowel sounds they needed to write, so that required some doubling up, and then adding in some silent vowels just to serve as markers of broad vs. slender made eveything worse. 

They also had to double up some consonants, because, for example, <v> wasn’t actually a letter at the time–just a variation on <u>–so for the /v/ sound they <bh>. AND THEN ALSO Irish has this weird-ass system where the initial consonant sound in a word changes as a grammatical marker, called “mutation,” so they had to account somehow for mutated sounds vs. non-mutated sounds, which sometimes meant leaving a lot of other silent letters in a word to remind you what word you were looking at.

And then a thousand years of sound change rubbed its dirty little hands all over a system that was kind of pasted together in the first place.

My point is, there is a METHOD to the orthography of Irish besides “fuck the English.” The “fuck the English” part is just a delightful side-effect.

I love it when snarky quips lead to real info.

And moreover, there are some really good linguistic reasons why the Irish monks picked these particular letter combinations to stand for these particular sounds (note that this is based on a Scottish Gaelic course I took many years ago so bear with me if I get a few details wrong).

Let’s start with <bh>. Now, the Latin alphabet at the time didn’t have a letter for the /v/ sound, but it did have an alternative way of writing the /f/ sound, which was spelled <ph> when it was borrowed from Greek (for other historical reasons). Well, /p/ is a sound that’s produced by letting a burst of air out from behind your lips while your vocal cords aren’t vibrating (it’s a voiceless bilabial stop), and /f/ is a sound that’s produced by letting a small amount of air out from behind your teeth on your lips while your vocal cords aren’t vibrating (it’s a voiceless labiodental fricative). So <ph> is kind of like a more breathy <p> (/h/ is a fricative like /f/). And /b/ is the same as /p/ except your vocal cords ARE vibrating, the exact same way that /v/ is like /f/. 

So <p> is to <ph> as <b> is to <bh>. 

Adding <h> to a consonant to indicate a sound somewhat similar to the base letter was very common in post-Latin Europe: English, Irish, French, German, and many other European languages ended up with <ch>, <sh>, <th>, <gh>, <wh>, and so on. It just happens that some h versions are found in some languages and not others, and pretty much every language uses the h variations to stand for different sounds. (Especially “ch”). 

Now let’s get to vowels. There are two groups of them: /i/ and /e/ are one group, while /u/, /o/ and /a/ are another. The traditional Gaelic (Scottish and Irish) terms for these groups are that /i, e/ are slender and /u, o, a/ are broad, but linguists also split them up, as front and back vowels. 

Front vowels /i/ and /e/ tend to pull consonants along with them, in very many languages, especially /t/, /d/, /k/ and /g/. It’s a process called palatalization and there’s a whole Wikipedia article about it. So the <si> in words like “Sinead” is palatalized just like the <si> in Latin-derived words like “precision” (not to mention all the words in “-tion” and rapid speech pronunciations like “didja” and “gotcha”). Palatalization also explains why English has “hard” (=broad=non-palatalized) and “soft” (=slender=palatalized) pronunciations of <c> and <g>, which are split by the same set of vowels – compare “cat” “cot” “cut” with “ceiling” or “cite”. (The pronunciation of <g> is more complicated which is why no one can agree about “gif”.)

And English spelling also retains or adds a silent letter where it would cause palatalization confusion. Think about words like “peaceable”, “placeable”, “changeable”, “salvageable” – normally a silent “e” is dropped before -able (bribable, adorable), but it’s kept here. Or the “k” added in “mimicking”, “frolicking”, “picnicking” despite “mimic, frolic, picnic”.  

Mutation (changing the initial sound of a word for grammatical effect) does seem to be particular to the Celtic branch of the Indo-European family tree, although various kinds of mutations are found in other languages

Irish spelling looks weird if you take English as a starting point, but if you take Latin as a starting point (which it was), both Irish and English do different (but sometimes related) weird things.

And let’s not forget that much of this grief arose from trying to represent vowel sounds in an alphabet (Latin) that was borrowed from another alphabet (Greek/Etruscan) that was adapted from another alphabet (Phoenician) that was pretty just like “in the beginning, fuck vowels.”

@stitchcasual

iconuk01:

18thcentury-turnt:

morelikecreamhuff:

nethilia:

nopeabsolutelynot:

fangirlingoverdemigods:

tyleroakley:

peacelovelesbian:

libby-on-the-label:

busterposeys:

at what point in history do you think americans stopped having british accents

image

Actually, Americans still have the original British accent. We kept it over time and Britain didn’t. What we currently coin as a British accent developed in England during the 19th century among the upper class as a symbol of status. Historians often claim that Shakespeare sounds better in an American accent.

image

whAT THE FUCK

I’m too tired for this

Always add in the video that according to linguists, Native southern drawl is a slowed down British.

T’ be or not t’be, y’all.

Fun fact: Same thing happened with the French accent. French Canadians still have the original French accent from the 15th century.

Êt’e ou n’pô zêt’e, vous z’auts.

I’ve been trying to find this post for months. I’m freakishly obsessed with this and want the truth of what early colonists sounded like.

The trouble is America has so many accents, and Britain (especially once you factor in Scotland, Wales and both Northern Ireland and Eire) seems to have even more per square mile than Americans, that I think you need to be more specific about which American accent sounds most like which British accent.