language

HOW DO YOU DO…

language

Ours
“Oi you fucking cardboard cut-out cunt bag. You, ya lying pokey arsed little gobshite blowing yer pip sqweeky mouth off at me, faggot. I deck yer now, fat faced dick-billed knob-jockey.” Is considered bad language.

“Thy’s hedge-born whoreson hath influenced thou’s own clot poled, tardy gaited, pig-nut, heavily cockered, maggot pie of a foul knave’s rat‘s bain. Alas it perturbs any such resurrection to even Judas’s urchin.” Is considered good language.

But who decides?

Namely this guy called Mr Oxford and his friend Mr Hypocrite who consider what they choose as words being the antithesis of language. Disregarding any improper word until it’s been in circulation for a number of years, verified by numerous source texts with atleast three circle jerk meetings held phyically discussing it relevance. When they've finished tossing it about and put it in. Anybody who’s anybody hardly uses Cowabunga anymore.

This, so it seems is where we’re at, listening to people in stone buildings telling us whether spazmo is an actual word, or whether you toffs are useless spazmos can be pluralized in it’s common usage.


Language and dialect
I once said "A language is a dialect with an army and navy" when I quoted Max Weinreich. See take Scallies, they have a dialect, Scalish, they also have a strong weapons supply and a band of mad people that can be called to arms at the drop of a baseball hat. The only thing their lacking is control over Britons numerous waterways. Consequently if you ever do see a group of tracksuits seemingly floating on a cloud of purple haze, call Curry’s and the U.N. cos they’ve got a language and we’ve got Scally Civil War.



Body Language
This is the new language well so it seems. So everyone goes on about it, like it’s never existed, like they’ve been shown the holy grail of a secret understanding of human interpretation. We are born to recognise it. If we need a TV programme to highlight it we're doing a pretty shity job at being human beings. Granted body language is succinct, subtle and underhanded at times, but if you're concentrating on where someone is crossing their hands while talking to you, “because that means your being defensive bah blah blah.” You probably haven’t realised their conversely pissed off internation in the fact you’re pointing that shit out and not listening to a word they say.


Foreign language
I know, why so bleeding many of them. People are people, a foreign language is a foreign language and you are a lazy git who can’t be bothered to learn the right way to say something so just points gesturing like a baby or an ape or a sperm. Apologies you was meant to be replaced with I. On average people know 0.0001% of the worlds languages, that‘s one. The whole world is dislocated by something that was supposed to bring us closer, irony moment.

People have tried to launch global languages Esperanto, Lojban and Toki Pona to name three. Yet humans are selfish and socially realistic and controlled to the point that unless the whole population of the world learns it, I’m not going to. Even though “mama pi mi mute o, sina lon sewi kon” sounds more lively than ”Our Father, which art in Heaven. Hallowed be thy snore”


Written
People consider Shakespeare one of the greatest writers along with Socrates, Marx, Edgar Allen Poe, Dostoyevsky, Emily Dickinson, Aristophanes and Aesop etc. But recently we seemed to have plainly forgotten how to write. A lot of words are written, the most since words began yet the level of comprehension and their maximum impact seem to have pissed off with Kerouac and Burroughs.

We have no belief in the importance of biting words and on a whole seem to prefer dumb generalisations. Read any tabloid randomly and you’ll scarcely find a creative verb or succinct noun used unless coupled with a unsophisticated emphasis, inside a quote or added with a cockney how’s your farther precursor.

Look Elle, More Nuts. There seems an endless amount of four letter word publications. Feeling it their duty to continue the theme inside, the only longer words permitted are premiere and rehab. Yes their piss drunk on the dumb vibe and we haven’t even reached the storm.

So by in large, as usual pop culture is getting more and more indisguinishable and more and more simplistic, things are fast and in a fast world we need fast words. This is sad, sad for ubiquitous, shimmering, bulbous, incredulous incandescent and all those other big words that can’t abbreviate to a size 0. But pop culture doesn’t mind because serving the dumb masses is easier than bringing them out of their hangover because if they did, people might go elsewhere, Hello?


Punctuation
I gave my spell checker the authority of a judge, feeling I have to argue my case at every fragment and semi colon bad usage. But personally my spell checker’s seriously disabled. For one, it’s an American and thus frequently masturbates over the letter z. Two, it loves to connect and split words when I like them the way they are. After I disagree with it’s correction and we move on, it not only highlights that expression not been in it’s Delaware Dictionary It goes back to it believing that I’ve collected my senses realised my misguided misgivings offering me the same standardization. This twat’s seriously deluded. It’s got no qualifications and it doesn’t even speak!

And while we’re here. Why do we hang onto odd things like Times New Roman. Romans didn’t even have Times New Roman cos it was invented in 1933. So why do we have to keep using it, it’s cottage cheese.



Fillers

YES yes yes, Errrrrr is back again. Err: a indicator to people and the individual that their out of anything particular witty or funny to say but what you heard was great, wasn’t it, it was and I want to talk more, oh I do.

When people say Um and Uh as fillers they tend to sound a bit dumb, confused and like they're starting an ill-conceived frog chorus. Essentially Um and Uh are the base root easiest thing you can say without any vocal effort, the Welsh do the same but it’s pronounced ‘Ym.’

Fuck is a different type of indicator, it indicates the individual feels the need to weight words with a fuck precursor and that person is quite insecure about his words without a fuckin fuck in it. Alternatively it adds emphasis to a sun lounging word to make into a raging fucking fireball. Fuck? it’s actually quite a diverse word.



Class
Like so many things. If you've got a couple of plums in your mouth and you’ve never heard the word giro being used in your vicinity. Statistically you’re going to have a more varied grasp of the English language than those who hear and plead for Mrs Giro to come, daily. But what’s interesting is that language is a natural constantly changing life force. The working class tongue may not be as complicated in a traditional sense. But it makes up for that with true invention of language by adaptation, cutting and splicing together. The Internet has played global slang role with invention of equally unique terms like celebufreak and bullshot replacing the words Spice girl and the phrase "why do i believe the advert graphics and not read the small print, again."


Speaking
When we talk, we compose words instinctively almost without consultation. We rely on our brain to compose perfection and curse it for making disturbing judgement. Conversations in an ideal world should be adventures, happy, electrifying, galvanised intrigue that shock and encapsulate the listener. To hang on every word is the mark of a good speaker. If people walk out of a room, turn on the TV when your still speaking they’re either insensitive or your cat’s a better linguist.

When speaking, alot of people are sloth lazy. They’d rather:

• Reuse a word man repeatedly man, in the same dull way dude.

• End a conversation with a vague generalisation, yeah life, it’s just 1’s and 0’s, no 2’s not in this life, man.

• Repeat the television as if quoting the Quran.

• Agree with people believing it’s easier to align themselves than to stand out.

• Droll on until other parties make excuses to leave.

• Bile everything out about themselves however inconsequential and uninteresting til everyone who’s listening feels like they know them inside and out without even requesting it, and try best to forget it, but can’t.

• Raise their voice SO EVERYONE IS LISTENING TO THIS IMPORTANT STATEMENT I HAD ON PIGEONS.

• Repeat the same thing over and over and over again about something you didn’t want to even hear the first time.

• Talk about one uninteresting subject just to fill silence that everyone concerned would rather be silence.

• Interrupt a very interesting statement with something they have thought CARROTS that barely links whatever YES CARROTS was been discussed and subsequently calls an end whatever brain stimulating moment you were I HEARD CARROTS ARE NOW NOT GOOD FOR EYES having.

I should change the title to: When speaking, a lot of people piss the hell out of my soul.

Is there a use for language?
This is debatable. Words or rather sounds have been around since a noise could be mustered form a very early life form, simpler than even “ughh ughh.“ Since then it has evolved and increased in complication to its modern incarnations “e arrr, e arrrr.“ But in recent studies people have found that there just aren’t enough words to describe things, feelings, events and emotions.

Granted and lauded over (by themselves) the French’s 12 different words for love. More impressive in a way are the Eskimos 100 different words for snow. Greater still, we the English, (yes us) invented a unquantifiable range of words for being drunk. All don’t have a word that describes a strangely damp feeling in your socks, that’s not quite wet but not quite sticky. This all stems from our cultural landscape. If we have a history of badly made shoes combined with consistent rainfall, there would be a word for it. (and it’s not fusty, but we‘re close).


Shhhhh
Maybe if there is a perfect language out there, not many of us have found it. I reckon those smarmy faced dolphins use it. Whatever language people perceive as perfect it will be subverted abbreviated and warped into imperfection in one mans ears and happy discordant in anothers. Now why don’t we just screw everyone over and just use mime

yeah two to you too.

time travel

HOW DO YOU DO…

time travel

21st century boring you?

Want a way to walk with dinosaurs that isn’t sitting really close to the TV to watch an unrealistic 3D diplodocus eat leaves?

You need a holiday in time, or dinoworld

Tick, tick, tick… tick
1.5 million years since fire was lit, 35,000 years after the birth of art, 16,000 years from the first mappings of stars and 600 years since the blueprints of the helicopter were drawn. We sit here thinking, “Y’know the 21st century could have been a bit more, well. Silvery.” Aside from those metal toasters that’ll burn a farmyard animal into your bread and those credit cards with one of the corners cut off a bit. The 21st century has had:

No proper Robots. My house isn’t doing stuff for me when I go to work so when I get back it’s like a new house and the kitchens in the bathroom. Cars and skateboards don’t hover. We can’t holiday in space and the so called information super highway is still not bypassing my brain with an LCD screen in my eye and USB ports in my tippy toes.

AHHhhhh, yet as a time traveller you can go to the future where these things should have occurred with a few other things that you probably didn’t think about; like a chocolate bar called waffpinuts. A wafer, pineapple and nuts bar wrapped in Kevlar.

Then, go back in time to tell all those people on Tomorrows World that hoodwinked our innocent child eyes, “Hey hey, perm-head, that ain't going to happen you pre-foetus futurist fuck.”
And they’d have to believe your aggressive preaching cos you’d bring an almanac from 2008 with all the sports results and next weeks Eastenders from UK-GOLD, so there.



The Time machine
"This only is denied to God: the power to undo the past." Aristotle (448 BC - 400 BC). Glad we’re not God, the dick.

Deloreans, Police phone boxes, American phone boxes, Quantum Leap Accelerators, Wormholes, Time portals, Time tunnels, Stargates and Cryogenics aside you need to build your time machine in something very now. Sedgeways, I phone's, Airbus 303’s and Wii’s are just that, but seem to lack a certain kook. We recommend you build your time machine inside the 3D extravaganza but transparently shit film Beowulf.

Basically making the thing is a doddle.

Arrange two wormholes many times the mass of our sun into close connectivity to the eight stars the daily star reviewed film Beowulf rightfully received.

Or

Simply construct a cylinder about 100 km long and about 10 km across, made of material compressed to just over the density of a neutron star, and rotating twice every millisecond.

Or

get a cup of tea placed on top a DVD player of the vast film, Beowulf and jump into the TV screen. Zap-tastic, a time machine! People on the Internet have so much knowledge. You know I bet they get cock mauled on the way to the oversize Hawaiian shirt store.

Stuff that
Alternatively, become an important figure in history and the time machine will come to you. You need to be pretty important like the guy who built the Spectrum, Clive Sinclair won’t get a visit or the actual Captain Birdseye who invented a way to preserve food sounds far too fucking boring to even listen about him, look your getting bored of even a past reference to him, yawn pigging borr-rad.

On TV Shakespeare gets a knock every five minutes, which makes me suspicious of just how many plays he did write and how many he just copied from one of the many time traveller’s GCSE English textbooks. So, inventing a language, being a despicably amazing musician or a timeless iconic celebrity are the laziest ways to time travel.


Dress
Now as a time traveller you can either stand out like Technicolor Cobains, Bill and Ted or blend in like Quantum Leap’s Sam (I’ll just leap into a retarded kid so I can act all slow and try and actually fuck my mum) Beckett. It’s a given you can get away with travelling to the eighties and know one will suspect those Nikes are reissues and that tops from Ryan’s Vintage.

Other time periods are a bit more difficult and require a full-bodied latex silver suit that emphasises no thought in the time period’s fashion and persistently highlights a mild arousal. This will guarantee kudos with blind and eccentric homosexuals. When not soliciting sex with your wardrobe combine it with a bravado Brando would skirt from. This‘ll give every poor sole that spots you the brainwashed thought you possess mystical powers. That in an instant you can transform that baco foiled eye offence into a pixelated gold Angelina Jolie that can transfix any man with a Nordic crown or a rasp akin to, genuine 100%, no shit, rock hard man, Ray Winston.


Where to go?
Err, the future. I don’t think anyone with a time machine’s maiden voyage is going to think, “ Out of all the time periods it’d have to be the dark ages, pissy mead and warts, fuck yeah! ” Actually if you do say ‘fuck yeah’ then actually go and stay in the dark ages moronically chanting; mead bong, mead bong. Seeing development of our species is man’s desire. Plus in the future they probably have weird sex using orifices you never thought existed. Don’t go too far in the future though, we don’t want any conviction on the grounds that:

“It seemed like that was the usual hole to fuck oops sorry, intercourse someone your honour”

“Mr Primark, do you take money out of women’s vaginas often? Have you never used a speakable ATM? You know your are not allowed that in our futuristic type court room with lights made out of hovering glow balls”

“sorry your honour, it’s the suit”

“That and you are going down for ten years, soft labour at seaside prison”

“hmmm, ok”

I reckon those futuristic prisons will almost definitely have you mining for tampon bio-fuels in Skegness with the type of criminal that use you as a toilet and you know Scratcher McBalls doesn’t care about dribbling on the rim.

Fucking with things
As we’ve seen in literature and films interacting with oneself might create a paradox. The answer is fuck it. Time is rather uninteresting until you change a bit, or a lot of it. And create what theorists call a ‘multiverse’, sounds fun don’t it. They’re many other terms like the ‘Grand-parent paradox’ that must mean screwing your Gran while she’s up the duff with your mum. Also ‘Cat-in-the-box’ s’all about looking at a cat means it exists and if you don’t and put it in a box, it dies. So steal a box, a cat and finger the Queen. So long as you have an Imax theatre playing the hit film Beowulf you don’t have worry.

Just imagine the look on your best friend’s face when you thieved his only condoms and pre-programmed crazy frog on his stereo before he was suppost to finally get laid, while hiding in his closet, after killing his Dad. Make sure no ‘Biffs’ uses your time machine for their ulterior motives, with the blockbuster extravaganza Beowulf, I don’t think you’ll have a problem.

Sidekick
Reality time, knowing you, you’ll end up pissing someone off with a turn of phrase or a misinterpreted laugh in face. So get a sidekick, at least you can blame them or sleep with them if it all gets a bit sexy. Choose one who has abilities not someone your friends with or this person you quite fancy. Well maybe the person you quite fancy only if they have abilities that might be hopefully, one time at least, just after they shaved, be useful to you.


Armed?
Are you crazy? Are you an American? Are yowl ? We assume NASA doesn’t equip its astronauts with guns but with the nature of aggressive paranoia they have, not surprised. Sonic screwdrivers aside, you should definitely carry a pen, to communicate with our un evolved ancestors, and if anything does turn ugly, with a pen you can kill someone in three places or have a scribble off, fact.

If you come into contact with anything carrying a weapon. You must act as though they have just called your sidekick Dallas Debbie a whore after receiving relief from her, like Dallas Debbie does that. Begin to shout passionately about sanctuary of 21st century monogamous relationships while simultaniously hand miming every numerous oral and penetrative sex techniques your proficient in, in perfect sync to Debbie’s booby bongo version of ‘working for a living.‘ You won’t get no shit after that unless Debbie’s into skat.


Time after time
Like Cyndi Lauper's song, you will eventually vanish into obscurity regardless of how bright your clothes get or irritatingly loud you scream notes. Conceding like Cyndi lauper has, to living on the streets of Victorian England with lice and rat faced and bodied friends, eating stale bread and being soliicitated for sex with a selection of warning photograph herpes sufferers waiting for the carbon dioxide soaked air to mute her out. Her last prayer being for a wooden coffin as opposed to the rotting filthy ally God's unlistened prayer leaves her.

See if we were only able to live in the 10th dimension; with all the possible branches for all the possible timelines of all the possible universes compacted into a single point, it’d be much easier. Like taking your pterodactyl to the Milky Way shop for Malteasers and getting change in orgasms.

berliner

HOW DO YOU DO…

berliner

Wanna swastika shaped beer mug?

Like climbing walls?

Stay in the UK

History, lissen
Right, There’s this place it’s like 1,000 miles away, yeah. It’s called Jeremy or Grr many or whatever. N innit is people who live like proper happy in-dare. Yer Germanans yousta have this war cos they were all mentals, day got all deese cool badges n moustaches n tings n they wannid ta show all dem world em, safe. But it wernd n we all didn like dat dutty bling so we battered them, gangsta style. Int end we made em build a pukka wall but they dealers wannid to deal boths sides of it so day paid David Hasselhoff to knock it down, boo ya. But thing is, now these Shermans, they all happy, but we keep talking about them moustaches nt guns, which they don’t like. Dem Gergans think we’re living int past wit house musik, they’re all techno eds and they is right. Cos worlds moved n dat, n we don’t know it. Yoww Peace.


W ow
An experiment took place that instead of fluoride the Government put stylide in Berlin’s drinking water. This chemically distorted everyone into genius German punk hobo. Middle aged, “this is what I like, so screw you if you like,” mental. Or just plain, “I’m so over sex it makes all and sundry want to bukakki around me,” ethereal wonderment. So whether it’s choosing a daunting dog chaperone, getting a drum symbol hat with a tweeting bird adornment, do definitely gaze at the thing your buying and actually considering whether it makes you gush up your duds.


Sky scraping
Do you hang around building sites dipping your dipping stick into ejaculated wet goo? Germany is a whole city of dried up gooey concrete paradises. It seems Germans are so retarded for something we have grown to label and despise.

Their tower blocks have an abundance of beautiful, shocking graffiti. Murals of babies eating babies, of robots lasers and apocalypses with beautifully sluttish rabbit ladies. Sadly it makes us realise that graffiti isn’t just writing ‘finker’ on a wall, in a way that no one can appreciate its lack of thought, grammar and to that point, even read.

Watch it
Los Angeles cars are such limp cocks. They have to stop when any fanny fancies teetering out onto the road. In Germany, cars are the Don Quan Daddy Double Dick Dongos. Even if the traffic lights are on green it’s legal for you as a German in a car to keep driving if there’s no people wanting to cross. No motorway speed limit, with a plethora of powerful German made cars to choose from. If you wanna drive, get down to dick town.

Crap
Berlin’s is employing a new Secret Service Crap Corp that at unspeakable hours hoovers and polishes up Berlin’s streets while shooting stump laden mangy pigeons. Because Berlin is super clean. They have this machine where you get 20p everytime you recycle a plastic bottle. Which would help on a Saturday night not having enough money for some curly fries. I suppose, if you like those novelties, which I do.

Polizei
If you break the law they don’t really care if you have breakable limbs, you’re in that van by your boobs. See maybe it comes from their history, maybe it comes from their understanding of conformity, of rules and regulations and acceptance of this. I think one copper had just enough of some flashy tosspot waving his 50 euro bills in his face, saying.
“Vere’s your power Mr Policeman? Is Versailles Treaty still taking more of your backbone cos I think vis is one of your colleagues. Hello Mr grilled pig, you only cost two euros to own. Had any Jews lately? Oh yeah vat’s right vey can’t stomach you, vell maybe you sho…”

“SWACK!” Gasps.

“A, a, a. Good job, great work, ermm promotion. Everyone, everyone. Look at this fine example of law enforcement officer, three cheers for karma, hip hip…”

I, like most people hate the police. The way they throw their authority about and generally believe you’re a criminal before you’ve even thrown that molitov cocktail at that adoption home for the disfigured. But I kinda like the Berlin police. They don’t get in your face, they don’t accost you if you’re a drunk, they don’t think your dealing drugs if your cigarette is a funny shape. They just stand around, or walk, being police.


No ban
Cigarettes are wonderful things, after getting over the whole disease, smell and death. If you still want to smoke, as a Berliner you can smoke virtually anywhere and buy them as soon as you can reach the street corner’s vending machines. Equally, cheap good booze is available everywhere; cafes, corner shops, cinemas, patisseries and no word of a lie, even pharmacies. It’s wonderland.

Yet I haven’t seen one drunken brawl, no kids smoking cigs. Nothing that I see every Friday and Saturday in any town or city centre in the UK. Because Germans seem to have this thing, I think it’s called trust, whereby, (and go with me on this one,) just because they have something, like most European countries they don’t feel the need to abuse it. It’s why you can’t leave you bike for a minute outside the offy without the fear and invariably actual theft of it. Yet Berliners leave a litany of bikes without even a lock on for days. It’s why you often fear going out after dark. Whereas Berlin is so calm you feel like a 2am nude stroll. If your trying to find your passport, waaait.

Obsession
Germany if drawn would have a big fat snout, a curly tail and go oink oink, you see what I’m trying to symbolically illustrate, Germany is just one big dirty pig. They manage to farm, breed and eat so friggin much of the animal they’ve pretty much wiped out the concept of any other animal existing. In Germany if you don’t like pig your not German, to them your not even human, don’t squeal, they’ll eat yer.

Sexy
Bears in cold climates have adapted their coats as genetic shields. German women have taken heed and grow their body hair to naturally shield them from men ever taking their clothes off. This bushy nature is found to be conducive to the climate of “urrrgggghhhhhh” if ever seen by foreign eyes.

Yet in comparison to their female counterparts men seem to be a lot balder. Big bulbous baldies, young small thinning and strange old axe like indented males wander around seemingly oblivious to their ingestion of radioactive pro bald genetically modified pig meat, M mmm. (Think that might be slanderous).


Blonde and blue eyed?
I don’t want to make assumptions about the holocaust, or even fear of a reoccurrence of that inclination of genocidal inhalation but there isn’t that many minorities or diversity in Berlin. Maybe when everyone was talking about multicultural landscapes and cross border diversity, they were worrying about how they’re going to get rid of a bloody big wall. But the old enforced Arian adage still seems to have a hangover in the population. Consequently minorities receives undue attention stared onto them. Admiration and jealousy combined is a hard expression to muster, but them Berliners are masters at the bating.

A wee
Five beers and no peanuts your standing outside wishing your nuts hold pee because you have no money and it’s 80 cents to piss. Yes in modern Berlin it’s illegal to wee on the street and nearly everywhere charges, even McDonalds. So always carry change or go into a bar because those toilet attendants are far too high on anti bac they’ll most likely make you re-digest.


So
In the world pie chart of freedom and quality of life, Germany would have Beth Ditto’s share where as the UK and US’s wouldn’t satisfy Kate Moss even if it had cocaine crust and she hadn’t got gacked up in a week. So be a Berliner for a bit, maybe, if you want, not bov'ed, i don't rule your life or nothin, TIDY YOUR ROOM!