Archive for January, 2012

"Rerda" in híies tsidai

Monday, January 30th, 2012
The first poem below is identical to the second in pronunciation. The first, however, is written in "híies tsidai", the new "phonetic" script which was created for me by a friend.

Here we go:

Rierda

ivi ta kamban pa çíast mie
et teb iesmier
fí han danep fiehh sandi iemier
et bep iesraúg
et fon ba iesa.

Fiehh iemahaie han
nou tré srít danep ietiemer
nabiei

Compare with the writing in the traditional way (which corresponds to the native-script letters):

Rerda

Ivin ta kamban pa jaeact me
iat otiahb exmer
fî ân daniab felë sandi emer
iat biab exraug
iat frn ba esa

Felë emahae ân
nu tré srît daniab etemer
nabei

Then IPA (another huge thank-you to cntrational):

/ rirda /

/ ɪfɪ ta kamban pa ʃaɪast mi
ɛt tɛb ismir
faɪ han danɛp fix sandɪ imir
ɛt bɛp israwg
ɛt fʊn ba isa. /

/ fix imaha.i han
nu tre sraɪt danɛp itimɛr
nabi.ɪ /

Alternate orthographies…

Monday, January 30th, 2012
In #conlang on freenode tonight, someone commented on my strange use of j to represent the sound "sh". I shared a few more letter-sound correspondences, and people were aghast. So I asked for an alternative, and cntrational kindly offered one. His proposal turned this paragraph (first half of the first paragraph of chapter one of the Hound of the Baskervilles):

"Pal plat ân dam kaxkep ba kâmâ ~Jiarlak lëoms, faé ka ohî baxahl ân ahl grecoi ân dam mér helav, jjiave fî ân kaxneot katé skra dania. Felë exovo o ba kelo pal ba heon, wî exék ba jédab biab lëiamohn wwak kaxpútú poseka. Jéda maoacoi baxahl, pal sem ba baxahl kilúca, bian kémania otora béenúb . Pal adle ba tsuneda maoai, ici, wwhé xebta erini baxahl."

into this one:

"Pal plat án dam kaxkiep ba kámá ~Çerlak Łóms, faé ka ohí baxahl án ahl grecoi án dam mér hielav, jevie fí án kaxnieót katé skra dane. Feł iexóvó ó ba kieló pal ba hieón, wí iexék ba çédab beb łemohn úak kaxputu pósieka. Çéda maóacói baxahl, pal siem ba baxahl kiluca, ben kémane ótóra béienub . Pal adlie ba tsonieda maóai, ici, úhé xiebta ierini baxahl. "

I'm unsure what to think of it (and in particular really don't like that crossed L thingy (it looks dangerous)), but figured I'd share it here, since it's awesome of him to have gone and actually created one for me.

(I will admit that the alternate ortho is nice to look at.)

----

I added a few more modifications to it (like marking all s sounds with a single letter, removing the silent h in ahl and wwhé, etc):

"Pal plat án dam kaskiep ba kámá ~Çerlak Âóms, faé ka ohí basal án al gretsoi án dam mér hielav, jevie fí án kasnieót katé skra dane. Feâ iexóvó ó ba kieló pal ba hieón, wí iesék ba çédap bep âemohn úak kasputu pósieka. Çéda maóatsói basahl, pal siem ba basal kiluca, ben kémane ótóra béienup . Pal adlie ba tsonieda maóai, isi, úé ziepta ierini basal. "

I've also decided to use this orthography often (you know me, though, that means I'm momentarily fond of it and might well forget it going forward x____X), and have named it- "haec sidai" - "Híies tsidai", after a name cntrational gave me to use. :D

Trurian word of the day: gönre

Monday, January 30th, 2012

gönre (noun): person, individual; face.

alwer nedhá ne-gönr-a yuluchon
river.ADV they.FEM their-person-ACC.PL wash.PERF.PAUS
“they washed themselves in the river”

Listen to the example sentence here: W_TR_007_goenre_example

In addition to its basic meaning, gönre is also used standardly to form reflexive constructions, as the object of the verb to be made reflexive, with a possessive suffix referring to the relevant agent (as in the example above). The noun mawch ‘body’ is used similarly, but often implying that the head or face is not directly involved in the reflexive action.

Nouns, Adjectives, Adverbs, Plus an Overview of the Shshi Naming System

Sunday, January 29th, 2012
       This piece is mainly about how noun, adjectives, adverbs, etc., are formed using what I'm calling  determinatives (I may not be using that term in an entirely correct linguistic sense).  You could also call them markers.

Nouns are always distinguished by the following suffixed determinatives:
       Common noun:  -zi (ka'zi|: stone; ist'zi|: wound [or] pain; dit'zi|: happiness)
       Personal noun: -zei (weio’zei|. dead one; ru’zei|, comforter; pai’zei|, Warrior)  Also applied to anything animate (dut’zei|: lizard) and to ethnic names (shshi’zei|: the Shshi people).
       Proper noun (given name): -ze (ti'shra'ze|: Ti'shra (when translating into Inj the -ze is omitted.)
       Place noun: -mi (genitive, -mik)  Used for both proper names of places and for words like ei’mi| (ford) or pol’mi| (valley) that indicate geographical places.  The genitive use is unique; e.g., Ki'shto'ba Huge-Head of To'wak is ki'shto'ba'ze| no'no| um'zi| to'wak'mik|
       Some of the more common nouns don't require a determinative, e.g., wi| (fungus), fli| (plant), akh| (world), ein| (egg), seip| (tree), cha| (fortress; -mi is also not needed in a place name ending in ’cha), re| (grass, when used in combinations like bu’re| [river grass] and ti’re| [sweet grass])
Adjectives
       Most adjectives are formed by prefixing da' to a root.  (da'no'no|: huge; da'ist|: wounded [or] in pain; da'dit|: happy)
       However, there are many exceptions to this rule.  Cardinal numbers and color adjectives do not take da' nor do adjectives that have been negated by prefixing wei' (un- or non-), for example, da'lo|: strong; wei’lo|: weak, not strong.  thel| (good) is another word that can be used with or without the da' determinative.  Also in proper names, the da' and in fact most determinatives are usually omitted.

Adverbs
       Adverbs are formed by suffixing 'il.  (ist'il|: painfully; dit'il|: happily)  Some adverbs are discrete words, however.

The Affix a
       A particular waveform that Kaitrin Oliva transcribed as "a" has several different functions.
       It can register a slightly different twist of meaning; wei’dit| (unhappy); a’wei’dit (lamented)  Example: a’wei’dit| ti'shra'ze| (the lamented Ti'shra).
       It can connote "prior" or "following":  nei| (now, adv.); a’nei| (before, prep.; temporal sense of the word).  da'dal| (past, adj., in the temporal sense of the word); a’dal| (after, prep., again in the temporal sense)
       Shshi has nothing like a past participle, but the affix a may be used to impart a similar meaning to an adjective.  
       Examples:  da’duk| (amusing); a’da’duk| (amused)
       galt’zi| D she 9  da’duk| ||: The story is amusing. 
       di’fa’kro’mi’ze| D ma’shet|9  a’da’duk| ||: Di’fa’kro’mi was amused. 

       One additional use of a is as a place-holder in names.  Explanation follows.
      
Naming System:
       All nymphs look nearly identical when they hatch; their ultimate Caste cannot be determined.  Therefore, the Namer Alates give them one-syllable names, like Kri (leg), Shra (flowers), or Tei (eye). 
       At third molt, when their adult Caste is revealed, a suitable imago (adult) name is conferred, incorporating their nymph name. 
       A Worker gets a two-syllable name, like Ti'shra (Sweet Flowers) or No'kri (Big Leg). 
       A Warrior gets a three-syllable name, like Hi'ta'fu (Defends Her [i.e. the Queen’s] Honor; in this case the nymph name was Fum [Honor], which becomes shortened in the adult name).  A'gwa'ji (Belly Slash) is the name of a Warrior whose nymph-name was Gwaf (Belly); the presence of the "A" is an example of the place-holding syllable mentioned above.
       The Alates (winged Caste) get four-syllable names, like Kwi’ga’ga’tei (One of Many Speakers Who Sees; her nymph name was Tei (Eye or Seeing); her imago name is a traditional Seer's name).  Other examples are Mo'gri'ta'tu (Shining Sun Her Wing; "her" is used even though the Chamberlain is male, because this is also a traditional name.  His nymph name was Gri [Sun]).  And one more example: Di'fa'kro'mi the Remembrancer (Happy He Comes [to the] Place)    
       The only people with five-syllable names are the breeding pair, the Mother and the King.  When a new Mother is installed, the fortress's Seer has the privilege of naming her.  Thus, the Mother of the fortress of Lo'ro'ra bore the Alate name of Mei’a’kha’bu (Rain on Blue River) and the Alate who was Seer at the time the fortress was founded named her Ahk'a'ma'na'ta (Blue Mother).  The King of Lo'ro'ra is Sei'o'na'sha'ma, which means basically Tree King. 
       All female progenitors' names end in ma'na'ta| which is the word for Mother or, in our usage, Queen.  It means literally "he-holy-she," with a derivation that is lost in time but probably refers to the fact that the Highest-Mother-Who-Has-No-Name ate her King and thus he became part of herself.  na'sha'ma| means "King."  Again, the origin is somewhat obscure; the literal meaning of the three syllables is "holy-you are-male" although the possibility exists that the waveform designated "sha" could have been corrupted from something else.
       Fortress names are generally pretty straightforward.  Thus, Ki'shto'ba's home fortress is named To'wak, which means Destructive Mandible.  Kwai'kwai'za means Many Hills (kwai|: mountain; za|: little - plus reduplication to indicate Many).  And our fortress of Lo'ro'ra (lo'ro'ra'mi|) has a rather more obscure meaning; the four syllables mean literally Strong-Holding-Flower-Place, which usually is construed as Strong Land of Flowers, or Strong Flower Fortress.

Art and Conlanging

Saturday, January 28th, 2012

If you listened to the out-takes from the most recent Conlangery Podcast you heard an out-of-context quote from an experience I had in college. I went to a show of performance art pieces put on by art students. One of the episodes involved a man walking out on stage with a boom box, turning on some industrial music, stripping naked and proceeding to duct-tape sausage to himself.

From time to time, both on the show and off, Bianca and I have amused ourselves by imagining how various schools of art would map to styles of language invention. But now I think we've been going at this backwards. There is nothing intrinsically confusing about an earnest, naked gentleman with kielbasa affixed to his person. The problem is that no one in the audience knew what language he was speaking. If he had passed out a grammar and lexicon first, the audience would have some idea of what he was trying to say.

So, my current idea is that conceptual art is actually a form of conlanging. People just don't realize it yet.

Maybe I can get a paper in Social Text about this...

Art and Conlanging

Saturday, January 28th, 2012

If you listened to the out-takes from the most recent Conlangery Podcast you heard an out-of-context quote from an experience I had in college. I went to a show of performance art pieces put on by art students. One of the episodes involved a man walking out on stage with a boom box, turning on some industrial music, stripping naked and proceeding to duct-tape sausage to himself.

From time to time, both on the show and off, Bianca and I have amused ourselves by imagining how various schools of art would map to styles of language invention. But now I think we've been going at this backwards. There is nothing intrinsically confusing about an earnest, naked gentleman with kielbasa affixed to his person. The problem is that no one in the audience knew what language he was speaking. If he had passed out a grammar and lexicon first, the audience would have some idea of what he was trying to say.

So, my current idea is that conceptual art is actually a form of conlanging. People just don't realize it yet.

Maybe I can get a paper in Social Text about this...

Art and Conlanging

Saturday, January 28th, 2012

If you listened to the out-takes from the most recent Conlangery Podcast you heard an out-of-context quote from an experience I had in college. I went to a show of performance art pieces put on by art students. One of the episodes involved a man walking out on stage with a boom box, turning on some industrial music, stripping naked and proceeding to duct-tape sausage to himself.

From time to time, both on the show and off, Bianca and I have amused ourselves by imagining how various schools of art would map to styles of language invention. But now I think we've been going at this backwards. There is nothing intrinsically confusing about an earnest, naked gentleman with kielbasa affixed to his person. The problem is that no one in the audience knew what language he was speaking. If he had passed out a grammar and lexicon first, the audience would have some idea of what he was trying to say.

So, my current idea is that conceptual art is actually a form of conlanging. People just don't realize it yet.

Maybe I can get a paper in Social Text about this...

Art and Conlanging

Saturday, January 28th, 2012

If you listened to the out-takes from the most recent Conlangery Podcast you heard an out-of-context quote from an experience I had in college. I went to a show of performance art pieces put on by art students. One of the episodes involved a man walking out on stage with a boom box, turning on some industrial music, stripping naked and proceeding to duct-tape sausage to himself.

From time to time, both on the show and off, Bianca and I have amused ourselves by imagining how various schools of art would map to styles of language invention. But now I think we've been going at this backwards. There is nothing intrinsically confusing about an earnest, naked gentleman with kielbasa affixed to his person. The problem is that no one in the audience knew what language he was speaking. If he had passed out a grammar and lexicon first, the audience would have some idea of what he was trying to say.

So, my current idea is that conceptual art is actually a form of conlanging. People just don't realize it yet.

Maybe I can get a paper in Social Text about this...

Upo

Saturday, January 28th, 2012

Glyph of the word 'upo'.

upo

  • (v.) to feel queasy
  • (adj.) queasy
  • (n.) queasiness

Ae upo i’i…
“The queasiness is inside me…”

Notes: That’s a bit of a different way of saying what, essentially, the verb by itself expresses.

Today’s iku is a simple ikunoala (u inside of po), but it rather neatly expresses how I feel when I feel nauseous. Basically, I feel like I have a great big W in my stomach. I don’t know if I can describe the feeling any better than that.

Chinny-Chin-Chin

Friday, January 27th, 2012
shymyg noun, neutral
chin

cwalta noun, neutral
strand of hair

falsa noun, neutral
hair (on the head)

lamag noun, neutral
beard

palta noun, neutral
body hair, fur


Bonus phrase:
Khu ad khwaltatha ar nymyg ab wyn.
Not on-behalf-of strand-of-hair(pl.) on chin of me.
Not by the hairs on my chin.