#reconstructed dialect

[tricornonthecob]

me, writing reconstructed dialect: *whispers* why am I enjoying this.

#my writing #dialect #reconstructed dialect #I'm such a nerd #I just love how the grammar works #where things might be shortened compared to current cadence #and might be elongated

[penhive]

Apologetics and Philosophy

Apologetics is a philosophy to defend Christian faith through the exegesis of philosophical texts. Here, I would like to take up worldly philosophies and use apologetics as a lens to reinterpret it.

Plato and Christianity

Here I would like to take Plato’s theory of forms. Plato said: there is cave populated by men and it’s all dark and from the boundary of the cave men can see a beam of light and what Plato meant in this theory was beside the world of the senses there is an ideal world of forms.  Let’s take Plato’s allegory from a Christian point of view: the cave represents temptation and sin and the light is the Messiah Christ who came to this world and died on the cross for the remission of sins so that all in Christ can enjoy eternity in Heaven.

Hegel and the Master Slave Dialectic

It was the philosopher who proposed the idea of the Master and the Slave dialectic. Both of them have an interrelationship one being the dominant and the other being the submissive. From a Christian perspective: the relationship that Jesus has is one of being a friend and guide. And there is a free choice of surrender or apostasy. The Master Friend dialectic is one of camaraderie and essence fulfillment. It’s an intimacy based on the forgiving and eternal love of Christ.

Nietzsche and God is dead and Dionysian and Apollonian

Nietzsche’s statement that God is dead was an iconic one and turned the tables upside down into the world of despair and doom and ushered into a Philosophy of nihilism. What I would like to say is Nietzsche’s Death of God can be compared to Christ’s crucifixion which gave all humans the will to life in eternity. Nietzsche’s Dionysian and the Apollonian as Dionysian being rhythm and beat and Apollonian being melody and harmony can be reinterpreted as Dionysian being the prodigal complex (a tendency to sin lead a profligate life) and the Apollonian (being the tendency of the Father to give the freedom of choice for either yielding to the father or being in a state of apostasy where forgiveness is guaranteed with repentance

Existentialism

Here I would like to rewrite the Philosophies of Sartre and Camus from a Christian apologetics point of view. Camus based his philosophy on the Myth of Sisyphus where Sisyphus is condemned by the Gods to roll a boulder all the way up hill only to his madness it rolls down and he is forced to do this meaningless task. From this Camus said his iconic statement that life is absurd, meaningless, monotonous, repetitive and chaotic. Looking at it from a Christian point of view: I quote Christ’s words: ‘I came to give life abundantly.’ From a postmodern Christian existentialist point of view: Life is the celebration of meaning.

Sartre’s two core philosophies are: man is condemned to be free: and hell is the other. I rewrite Sartre by saying in Christ we are privileged to be free.  The other for me is Heaven as a relationship of love, empathy, and camaraderie.

Deconstruction and Reconstruction

It was the Philosopher Derrida who introduced deconstruction and in  it a text is analyzed as presence and absence. From Deconstruction, I have developed a Philosophy of Reconstruction from a Christian apologetic point of view: and it is a text with the celebration of presence and the privilege and forgiveness as absence. In the text there is always a chance for the prodigal apostate to return back to the father and be embraced with love, compassion and mercy. The God of presence is a kind and merciful God and he harbors no grievance.

Kant’s Transcendental Idealism

In this Kant talks about a not-knowable-world or the noumena (spirit). Here I would like to bifurcate Kant’s transcendental idealism into transcendental realism. Kant’s transcendental idealism stands for the Father God the supreme and Kant’s transcendental realism stands for a knowable God as Christ the Messiah who came into the world: to proselytize and save people from their sins and died on the cross so that we can share an eternity with him.

#Apologetics #Christianity #Philosophy #Literature #Art #Aesthetics #Literary theory #Deconstruction #Philosophy of Reconstruction #Sartre #Kant #Hegel #Camus #Hegel's Master Slave Dialectic #Master friend Dialectic #Plato #plato's theory of forms

[guinevereslancelot]

i'm watching murder she wrote w my mom and so many characters have these super fake accents that sound like they're trying to be posh southern accents i think its supposed to be what californians think a new england accent is 😂😂😂

#idk what u call the accent i mean it's like fancy southern idk how else to describe it #why would anyone think they have southern accents in MAINE jffjjfhfhsaaaa #its like watching anthropologists trying to reconstruct an ancient dialect with no information besides the place name lmaoooooo #they heard england and said okay like the american version of an english accent? and came up with a georgia accent 😂 #this has been a shitpost

[mcmorare]

that w.wdits clip where colin is trying to drain joh.n sl.attery but it isn't working bc john keeps on being fascinated by colin's specific regional accent and going on tangents about accents and dialects. just like me fr

#‘ a rambling mess ‘ - ooc. #genuinely i love languages and dialects and accents so much #started happy stimming today watching a video essay on the germanic language family because they got a guy to reconstruct a sentence #in proto-germanic #which is!!! so fucking cool to me!!!!! we are able to reconstruct languages that we have never heard that were never written down #that have been dead for centuries!!!! fuck!!!!!!! #languages and language families and historical linguistics make my brain go wooOO #anyways!! i am doing a bit of classwork but i will be on here in a bit <3

[yvanspijk]

Old as sīn

In certain dialects of Old English, there were two ways to express 'his' and 'her'. Beside his and hire, there was sīn (pronounced ‘seen’), but this pronoun was reflexive: it could only refer to the subject of the sentence. My new infographic and the article below tell you the whole story.

On my Patreon, everyone – including free members – can read a detailed explanation (1200 words) of this system, which also compares it to Latin. If you subscribe to tier 2, you can listen to the reconstructed pronunciation of the phrase and all historic words.

#historical linguistics #linguistics #language #etymology #english #dutch #german #old dutch #old english #old high german #old saxon #low saxon #old frisian #west frisian #gothic #old norse #danish #swedish #icelandic #norwegian #lingblr

[rhinozzryan]

can u do etymology of the word kitten? i cant believe ive never asked this of u yet

TL;DR: kitten is a borrowing from French, a diminutive of chat, from the same Latin root as English cat, probably ultimately borrowed from a Near Eastern language like Arabic.

English n. kitten 'the young of the cat; a young cat, a cat that is not full-grown; the young of another mammal' (form attested from the early 17th century), earlier as Middle English n. kitoun, ketoun, kyt(t)on 'id.', a borrowing from Anglo-Norman n. *kitoun, *ketoun, *kiton, *keton 'id.' (not attested, but required as an intermediary; the regular change of word-initial /t͡ʃ/- to /k/- is implied by an erroneous ca. 1190 usage of Old Picard n. caston 'id.', with the form construed with the northern dialectical form of Old Picard n. caston, caton 'collet, bezel'), dialectical form of Old French n. chaton 'id.' (attested ca. 1230), diminutive of Old French n. chat, chas 'the domesticated cat, Felis catus' (attested 2nd half of the 12th century), a passing from Proto-Romance n. *katʊ 'id.' (secondarily attested in the borrowing into Basque n. katu 'id.'; also reconstructable via the passing into forms like Old Galician–Portuguese n. gato 'id.' and Sardinian n. gattu 'id.'), reflecting Late Latin n. cattus, catus 'id.' (a term widely borrowed, including, ultimately, into English n. cat 'id.'), probably (based on genomic and archaeological evidence in Egypt and the Near East) borrowed from Arabic n. قط 'id.' or a cognate, of uncertain further origin.

#you asked me this in vc a couple months ago #i think #idk i dont know anyone else who would make sense to have asked me #to be fair there is a large number of my friends who are tiny kittens #ok maybe it wasnt u

[s-leary]

“That year, using English as an example, they began the task of studying how languages grew, changed, morphed, multiplied, diverged, and converged. They studied sound changes; why the English knee had a silent k that was pronounced in the German counterpart; why the stop consonants of Latin, Greek, and Sanskrit had such a regular correspondence with consonants in Germanic languages. They read Bopp, Grimm, and Rask in translation; they read the Etymologiae of Isidorus. They studied semantic shifts, syntactical change, dialectical divergence, and borrowing, as well as the reconstructive methods one might use to piece together the relationships between languages that at first glance seemed to have nothing to do with each other. They dug through languages like they were mines, searching for valuable veins of common heritage and distorted meaning.

It changed the way they spoke. Constantly they trailed off in the middle of sentences. They could not utter even common phrases and aphorisms without pausing to wonder where those words came from. Such interrogations infiltrated all their conversations, became the default way they made sense of each other and everything else. They could no longer look at the world and not see stories, histories, layered everywhere like centuries’ worth of sediment.

And the influences on English were so much deeper and more diverse than they thought. Chit came from the Marathi chitti, meaning ‘letter’ or ‘note’. Coffee had made its way into English by way of Dutch (koffie), Turkish (kahveh), and originally Arabic (qahwah). Tabby cats were named after a striped silk that was in turn named for its place of origin: a quarter of Baghdad named al-‘Attābiyya. Even basic words for clothes all came from somewhere. Damask came from cloth made in Damascus; gingham came from the Malay word genggang, meaning ‘striped’; calico referred to Calicut in Kerala, and taffeta, Ramy told them, had its roots in the Persian word tafte, meaning ‘a shiny cloth’. But not all English words had their roots in such far-flung or noble origins. The curious thing about etymology, they soon learned, was that anything could influence a language, from the consumption habits of the rich and worldly to the so-called vulgar utterances of the poor and wretched. The lowly cants, the supposed secret languages of thieves, vagabonds, and foreigners, had contributed such common words such as bilk, booty, and bauble.

English did not just borrow words from other languages; it was stuffed to the brim with foreign influences, a Frankenstein vernacular. And Robin found it incredible, how this country, whose citizens prided themselves so much on being better than the rest of the world, could not make it through an afternoon tea without borrowed goods.”

— RF Kuang, Babel

#rf kuang #babel #translation #languages #etymology #linguistics

[petermorwood]

How on earth did these goats get there?

*****

In reality the goats are lying on their sides on rocky ground, looking up at a crane-mounted camera. The photograph was taken some years ago, part of a series reconstructing Central European folk customs and traditions which have fallen from favour or are now prohibited.

This old-fashioned rural blood-sport was originally practiced in parts of Anatolia, Turkey, where the game was called keçi fırlatmak, and also in the Carpathian Alps of Romania, possibly imported during the Ottoman conquest. The name there was aruncarea caprei.

*****

The goats would have been coated in a strong adhesive traditionally distilled from pine resin.(represented pictorially here by darker patches of dye on the flanks) and were then thrown upwards towards a cliff or rock-face with makeshift catapults, often a primitive form of counterweight trebuchet assembled from wooden beams and weighted with rocks.

The game ended when the glue dried and lost adhesion, and the goats fell to their deaths. They were then cooked and eaten, their meat being valued like that of Spanish fighting bulls.

The meat of the last goat to fall (başarılı keçi or cea mai durabilă capră) was prized as a special delicacy and selected cuts from the legs of this particular “winner” goat were often smoked and dried into a kind of jerky.

*****

In his “Grandes Histoires Vraies d'un Voyageur le 1er Avril” (pub. Mensonges & Faussetés, Paris, 1871) French folk-historian, anthropologist and retired cavalry general Gilles-Etienne Gérârd wrote about witnessing a festival near Sighișoara, Transylvania, in 1868.

There he claims to have seen catapults improvised from jeunes arbres, très élastiques et souples - “very springy and flexible young trees” - which were drawn back with ropes and then released.

Bets were placed before the throw, and marks given afterwards, according to what way up the goats adhered and for how long. The reconstruction, with both goats upright, facing outward and still in place, shows what would have been a potential high score.

The practice has been officially banned in both countries since the late 1940s, but supposedly still occurred in more isolated areas up to the end of the 20th century. Wooden beams from which the catapults were constructed could easily be disguised as barn-rafters etc., and of course flexible trees were, and are, just trees.

*****

Gérârd’s book incorrectly calls the goat jerky “pastrami”, to which he gives the meaning "meat of preservation".

While pastrami may be a printing error for the Turkish word bastırma or the Romanian pastramă, both meaning “preserved meat”, at least one reviewer claims that Gérârd misunderstood his guide-translator, who would have been working from rural dialect to formal Romanian to scholarly French.

Since this jerky was considered a good-luck food for shepherds, mountaineers, steeplejacks and others whose work involved a risk of falling, Gérârd's assumption seems a reasonable one.

However, several critical comments on that review have dismissed its conclusion, claiming "no translator could be so clumsy", but in its defence, other comments point out confusion between slang usage in the same language.

One cites American and British English, noting that even before differences in spelling (tire / tyre, kerb / curb etc.) "guns" can mean biceps or firearms, "flat" can mean a deflated wheel or a place to live, "ass" can mean buttocks or donkey and adds, with undisguised relish, some of the more embarrassing examples.

This comment concludes that since the errors "usually make sense in context", Gérârd's misapprehension is entitled to the same respect.

*****

The good-luck aspect of the meat apparently extended to work which involved "falling safely", since its last known use was believed to be in ration packs issued to the 1. Hava İndirme Tugayı (1st Airborne Brigade) of the Turkish Army, immediately before the invasion of Cyprus in July 1974.

Nothing more recent has been officially recorded, because the presence of cameras near military bases or possible - and of course illegal - contests is strongly (sometimes forcefully) discouraged, and the sport’s very existence is increasingly dismissed as an urban or more correctly rural legend.

The official line taken by both Anatolian and Carpathian authorities is that it was only ever a joke played on tourists, similar to the Australian “Drop-bear”, the Scottish “Wild Haggis” and the North American “Jackalope”.

They dismiss the evidence of Gérârd’s personal observation as “a wild fable to encourage sales of his book”, “a city-dweller’s misinterpretation of country practices”, or even “the deliberate deception of a gullible foreigner by humorous peasants”.

And as for those paratroop ration packs, Turkish involvement in Cyprus is still such a delicate subject that the standard response remains “no comment”.

#goats #mountain goats #climbing #falling #good-luck food #rural myth #pinch of salt #A day in April

[comicaurora]

Hi Red! Since the Artemis and Apollo video released last week, I've been curious about something that I had been expecting to come up but didn't.

Supposedly, sited in a Hittite treaty, is a god called Apaliunas, protector diety of Wilasu, who is called upon by its leader Alaksandu. His name has been linked to Apollo and used with a few dialect variations of Apollo's name to attempt a reconstruction, and seperately as the figure Apollo dirrectly evolved from. Did or do you have thought on this figure?

I hadn't encountered that name before, but a quick investigation makes me think this is (a) very cool and (b) thankfully in line with the other stuff I found for the video! Apollo having origins in the area of mythical Troy around 1200 BCE would align with his far-flung birth myths and his earliest solid role in the Iliad as Troy's established guardian deity. Unfortunately since that's all we've got about this guy that's kind of all we can credibly get from it.

#asks #not aurora

[starlightervarda]

So

As someone who has cried at ruins, art and temples my ancestors left behind, at how I can't read or speak our own native language, and how what remains of that is in a liturgical language used in secret by an oppressed religious minority...Butchered Tongue has me in my feelings.

It's so hard to love yourself as you are when the people that had your face have been defaced, demonized and disregarded. Not just by the people that invaded us and imposed their language, culture and religion on us for centuries, but by your own people. Not much survived the centuries of brutal colonialism and religious fanaticism, and even if you had a grace period where more began to appreciate what your ancestors left behind, the push against it, to distance yourself and identify more with the invader's culture and even their ethnicity because they are 'right' by decree of religion, is depressing.

It doesn't help that we now have foreigners holding our artifacts in their museums, and pushing insane narratives about aliens building our monuments. Then there are Americans constantly making claims to our ancestry due to racist conspiracy theories, saying horrific shit about how we're the descendants of invaders and that they are the true heirs despite constant proof otherwise. What's worse is having that narrative supported by the most powerful media in the world, casting anyone but us to play us.

They fetishize our aesthetic, our history, our mythology, our land, but hate those that spawned from it.

The only time I like my face is when I recognize it in the likeness left behind in busts, statues and wall paintings. In reconstructions of mummies that have my skin, hair, eyes and nose. Things that are viewed as ugly now and erased through straighteners, bleaching creams and surgeries so we can look more like the foreigners that invaded us, whether they came from Western Europe or Western Asia.

I may look like them, but I'll never know what they truly sounded like, what they did on day-to-day basis, how they worshipped our native gods, what songs they sang or what they called their grandparents.

So many of us are stuck speaking someone else's language, now matter how nativised that dialect has become, and practicing their religion, even revering the very people that broke in and destroyed everything in their wake to impose their version of everything as 'saviours'.

I wish we were taught our native languages in school, that they were never demonized, and punished into dying. That there were huge movements to preserve what we still have that's uniquely ours, but the more time passes, the less people care. All we have left are names of historical figures, gods and the odd town or city that has been misheard into something else over time.

To all my siblings in lost cultures, demonized history and butchered tongues, I hope we hold on to what we have left.

#hozier #butchered tongue #unreal unearth

[tricornonthecob]

This is an odd question I guess but its bugging my hyperfixating brain: from what I understand, the period dialect of 18th century British North America would more likely contract "it is" to "'tis," instead of "it's," which is the default for a 21st century ear. I don't actually know how certain this is, though - human language is soft and pliable over time and no one group of people follow anything strictly, and how certain are we, anyway, that this would be a "correct" way to reconstruct the dialect?

Anyway, I'd like to write spoken grammar and cadence to be more period-accurate in my fanfics, but I do understand that going all-in on it risks making the dialogue sound contrived, which is, in my opinion, a greater sin than a little bit of anachronism in my contractions. The mortal sin of Can't Relate against the venial sin of A Little Bit Not Correct.

Anyway tl;dr what do y'all think?

#my writing #me with the hyperfixating/hyperanalytical brain #I'm extremely stressed rn tho so its not surprising I'm getting hung up on contractions in my prose of all things #amrev #18th century dialects #reconstructing dialects #linguistics #Linguistics Interest

[stormsthatrage]

Important PSA: Do not ask linguists how many languages they speak. Linguistics is the scientific study of language, investigating things such as (but not limited to): how language can be modeled as a complex logic system; the cognitive processes and neurological structures that support the acquisition, storage, and usage of language; the biological and acoustic mechanisms involved in the production/perception of language; how language influences society and how society influences language.

Other things linguists do: work with communities to document or revitalize dying languages; develop dictionaries; work on language modeling software; consult for copyright litigation; reconstruct dead languages.

Really lucky linguists get hired by Hollywood to create fictional languages for sci-fi and fantasy blockbusters.

What linguists do not do: spend all day learning foreign languages. (Alas, if you are a linguist who enjoys learning foreign languages, you must do it in your free time, not during work hours.)

Also! Another important PSA: Any linguist who has learned, like, anything about language, WILL NOT JUDGE YOUR GRAMMAR! Do NOT apologize to a linguist for how you speak. Remember: no dialect is "more correct" than another. There is literally no objective criteria with which you can compare two languages or dialects and decide one is "better" than the other. If you are communicating successfully, you're doing language right!

#linguistics #i don't spend all day learning foreign languages #i spend all day experimenting on infants #hashtag not judging your grammar #just studying how you acquire it #my soapbox

[chekhovs-tantrum]

-John and his best friend, G—, both Maori (or is Jod mixed?). We don't know G's original name or whether it was Maori, but from Wikipedia: Both L and G are also encountered in the Southern dialect, though not in standard Māori. So G's original name was either Southern dialect or not Maori at all. 

-When John resurrects G— he renames him a white Christian name, and not even the Maori version. 

-John has a kid who comes preset with the name of his resurrected bestie. When he reconstructs her, he gives her the Maori version of the name. 

I'm not sure what I'm asking here, but it feels like there's a Thing I'm missing as a white American. Here, slapping Christian names on Native American kids who were violently forced to "forget" their culture was a huge part of our genocide. 

For Kiwi folk, was John erasing Maori culture in giving his actually-Maori friend a whitewashed name? (are there even Maori options that begin with G?) And if not, why was it more important to John to keep G's first initial rather than to grant him a connection with the culture that G literally took a bomb for, and why does he reverse this course with his daughter after 10,000 years? 

There are SUCH good posts here about Maori culture and the way it influences characters or stands out in the books (thinking about the one about how Griddle's humor has an edge of Kiwi passive-aggression, or the one about nuclear things/NZ/Maori folks). I so badly want to learn and understand more, please let's amplify those voices/if my mutuals see good posts about it please tag me or send them to me

#tlt meta #locked tomb spoilers #gideon the ninth spoilers #gideon the ninth #te reo māori #aotearoa

[protoindoeuropean]

Comments by people about how disappointed they are to hear that Etymonline is a pretty bad source for (English) etymology make me realize how spoiled we are in Slovene with the (relative) quality and accessibility of etymological dictionaries.

There are three (modern) etymological dictionaries for Slovene: the standard work by Bezlaj, Furlan and Snoj, ESSJ (Etymological Dictionary of the Slovene Language; 4 volumes + indices; begun by Bezlaj in 1976, joined in the following volume (1982) by his student Snoj and in the third and fourth also Furlan (1995, 2005); Bezlaj died in 1994); Snoj's more "popular science" version, SES (Slovene Etymological Dictionary, 1st edition in 1997, 3rd in 2016, available online); Furlan's much more rigorous and dialectally oriented NESSJ (New Etymological Dictionary of the Slovene Language; trial folio in 2013, online publication since 2017).

As mentioned, SES and NESSJ are available online, though the very limited scope of NESSJ means that SES is the usual reference. There are talks about putting ESSJ online as well, but there are some issues with rights and Bezlaj's family etc.

Before illustrating the differences between the various Slovene and English sources for etymology, a few notes on what a good etymological dictionary entry should include:

philological documentation (current meaning, phonetic/phonological information (incl. suprasegmental features), morphological characteristics (inflection, gender), word family (derivatives, parallel formations), attestation (historical sources), onomastic material (esp. anthorponymy and toponymy)

comparative material (cognates or related words in closely related languages and in the wider language family)

etymological explanation (word form at the moment of creation, morphemic structure, meaning and semantic motivation)

To demonstrate the differences between the dictionaries, it's best to consider their entries for the same words:

— ESSJ, SES poln, adj. 'full' in ESSJ and SES. NESSJ does not have this word. ESSJ includes more information on Slovene historical and dialectal attestation, as well as all the existing forms in other Slavic languages. SES, on the other hand, besides the relevant derivations only includes those Slavic languages that are more relevant for the Proto-Slavic reconstruction. It is important to note that this entry from ESSJ is from the third volume, which systematically takes into account the findings of the laryngeal theory (you can see that the reconstruction of the PIE root in ESSJ is *pelH-, with a laryngeal, even if it is not specified which one; cf. the update in SES with *pleh₁-). The first two volumes do not, however, and are therefore in many ways superseded by the entries in SES, even if those are otherwise less rigorous.

***at this point I should note that I'll gladly(!) translate all the Slovene entries if anyone wants me to do so, but I'm not going to do it if no one asks because there are quite a few of them here

Compare the entries in popular English online sources for etymology – Wiktionary and Etymonline; and then also Kroonen's Etymological Dictionary of Proto-Germanic for comparison:

— Kroonen, Wiktionary, Etymonline 1, 2 The Wiktionary entry for full is roughly on par with SES, while Kroonen's Germanic material is more comprehensive. Etymonline, however, shows no trace of the laryngeal theory and when looking at the cognates listed under the root, it's like they've never heard of a diacritic either (except in Old Norse "fjöl-", even though ö is not normally used for Old Norse – ǫ is) – even though those are often crucial! –, not to mention fully replacing ə with e in what should be Avestan pərəna- ...

To also include NESSJ, the word for 'birch' will be used, but first the entries for this word in the already mentioned dictionaries:

—Kroonen, Wiktionary, Etymonline Again the Etymonline entry just does not compare – it's not just that the PIE reconstruction is non-laryngeal, it's also plain wrong because it has *g instead of *ǵ; also again with the diacritics ...

— ESSJ, SES As you can see, this entry is from the first volume of ESSJ and thus also non-laryngeal. It is still more comprehensive in terms of material, but the explanation in SES is more up-to-date.

The entry in NESSJ simply does not compare to the ones above – it is more in line with a dictionary like the Etymological Dictionary of Slavic Languages (ÈSSJa) in the amount of information it includes, which means that it is so long that I will put it under the cut:

— NESSJ You can see that this entry includes much more dialectal and historical material and discusses in depth its historical morphology and types of derivation, finally constructing its diachronic word-family.

And since I mentioned it, here's also the ÈSSJa entry for 'birch':

— ĖSSJa As it is from the very first folio, from 1974, the explanation is non-laryngeal, as in ESSJ. Compared to NESSJ, it includes (literally) a couple more Slavic languages: Slovincian and Polabian, though understandably no further dialectal material, which NESSJ includes specifically for Slovene. ÈSSJa, as a rule, doesn't reconstruct accentual paradigms for Proto-Slavic, while on the other hand, some of the discussion in NESSJa specifically concerns the question of accentual features of the discussed word and its IE word-family. NESSJ is also more explicit in the discussion of the models of derivation and morphological variants.

#j #etymology #slovene #slovenian #etymonline #wiktionary

[verona2314]

Judgment of the Damned (translation) PART XI

Link part X

Summary:

In the realm of Limbo, where souls deemed too good for Hell but not virtuous enough for Heaven reside, Victoria finds herself thrust into an unprecedented mission. When a notorious sinner, Sir Pentious, achieves redemption and ascends to Heaven, it sends shockwaves through all realms. Tasked with unraveling this mystery, Victoria, a minor judge of souls, is sent to the infamous Hazbin Hotel in Hell. For the first time, an emissary from Limbo steps foot into the fiery depths, tasked with observing and judging the denizens of Hell for their potential for redemption. As Victoria navigates this unfamiliar territory, she captures the unrequired attention of the enigmatic Radio Demon, Alastor. Amidst the chaos of demonic antics and the pursuit of understanding redemption, Victoria must confront her own beliefs and judgments. As she delves deeper into the secrets of the Hazbin Hotel, Victoria uncovers hidden truths about sinners, redemption, and the ultimate fate of souls caught between damnation and salvation. With each soul she encounters, Victoria's journey becomes not only a quest for answers but a personal voyage of self-discovery in the heart of darkness.

Chapter 11: Defying the Limits

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello everyone! I apologize for the delay with this chapter. Once again, it was a bit challenging to translate due to Zestial's archaic dialect. I hope you enjoy it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zestial

To say he was furious would be an understatement. The Overlord was indignant as if he had been directly attacked. It couldn't be a coincidence that the radio demon had asked about the Limbo just before the appearance of a judge. Alastor had blatantly lied to his face, and that wouldn't be overlooked. However, Zestial was not someone who let himself be carried away by strong emotions, as it denoted a lack of character and control. No. He preferred to act with intelligence and take advantage of the situation. Therefore, without announcing himself, he showed up at the Hazbin Hotel with the intention of unsettling Alastor and, hopefully, locating the minor judge. Zestial sensed that the radio demon had managed to keep her close.

Once in front of the door, he knocked gently on the stained glass, admiring the building. Clearly, the reconstruction had greatly benefited the hotel. The details in the architecture seemed curious to him, but tasteful. After a few minutes, the door was opened by a timid, frail sinner, whose eyes looked at him in astonishment. Zestial knew it wouldn't be difficult to scare him and thus enjoy a delightful scream of terror, but his priorities at that moment were different.

“Good day, young sir," he greeted courteously. "Pray, what be thy name?" "Adrian," the boy replied timidly. Zestial couldn't help but smile. This boy was intimidated by his mere presence. He seemed like a fairly new soul and doubted he was very cautious. He decided to seize this opportunity. "Very well, Adrian. Permit me to present myself, I am Zestial. I have ventured hither in pursuit of my esteemed comrade Alastor. I surmise he is presently engaged. As an Overlord myself, I can empathize."

"Also an Overlord?" the boy replied, widening his eyes. "Unfortunately, the radio demon is not available at the moment. I believe he is hosting his radio show at the station."

"In sooth, might I speaketh with thy grace, the judge who resideth in this inn?" he inquired nonchalantly, trusting the sinner wouldst be ensnared in the stratagem

“Do you know the judge?" Adrian asked, surprised.

"Verily!" he replied, barely containing his laughter. The young man had unwittingly validated his conjectures. The judge did lodge at the inn. "I have e'en kept vigil over her from afar since her advent into these realms.

"Really? But she has never mentioned you," the young man inquired, with a hint of skepticism. Perhaps he wasn't as naive as Zestial had thought.

"Of course she hasn't mentioned me," Zestial expounded. "Thy lady had to keep her connections hidden. Now that her presence in the infernal realm is no longer shrouded in secrecy, there is no utility in maintaining discretion. Thus, I would be beholden to thee if thou wouldst lead me unto her.

"You speak a bit strange," the young man observed, then sighed. "She's still a bit weakened. She woke up just yesterday. It's okay. Just because you're a friend of hers and Alastor's. But don't tell Vaggie or she'll probably kick me out of the hotel."

The Overlord contained a smile. He couldn't believe how easy it had been to convince this young man. Luck had played in his favor, as if someone else had opened the door, this scenario would never have unfolded.

As Adrian led him through the hotel corridors, Zestial took the opportunity to memorize every detail: every nook, every corner, every elevator. He decided not to let his guard down in case he encountered anyone else. However, his concentration was interrupted by the sound of tiny footsteps behind him. Turning around, he found a small lady with a single large eye watching him with a disturbing smile. Zestial merely looked at her with curiosity.

"Uh, you seem like a very bad boy... very bad and scary," said the red-haired woman followed by a chilling laugh.

"She's Niffty," Adrian explained nervously. "She's a bit odd, but she's not bad. Anyway, I recommend you don't be alone with her."

Zestial remained silent, feeling unsettled by the way the little woman was looking at him. He simply nodded. The lady started walking towards him, which put him on alert.

"Niffty! I forgot to tell you that someone dirtied the windows in the lobby," Adrian urged. At this, the tiny sinner made a sound of annoyance and proceeded to leave. Zestial found himself surprised, sighing with relief. "We'd better continue before she finds out I lied to her."

Zestial trailed behind the youth, casting occasional glances rearward. Though loath to concede, he hadn't experienced such discomfort in centuries. The prospect of encountering that dame anew held no allure. Finally, the young man stopped in front of a door, indicating that it was the judge's room. Adrian knocked softly on the wood with his knuckles.

"Yes?" came a pleasant voice from within.

"Judge Victoria, you have a visitor," Adrian continued. Now Zestial knew her Honor's name.

"Let them in," the woman's voice came after a few long seconds.

Zestial entered the room without Adrian. Lying on the bed was a woman with chestnut hair and amber eyes, looking at him defiantly yet with a hint of intrigue. The judge's presence was striking, her upright posture adding to her aura of dignity. Zestial held his breath for a moment. He was facing a strong woman not easily intimidated. She reminded him of Carmilla, whom he deeply respected. However, he didn't know if this judge felt any compassion or had someone to protect, unlike Carmilla, who was willing to do anything for her daughters. The woman didn't avert her gaze from him for a single moment and slowly began to arch an eyebrow.

"Well?" Victoria asked in a calm yet firm voice. "How may I assist you, Mr. Zestial?"

“I should not marvel that thou knowest who I am. I suppose thou camest prepared to these domains. I am sorry for troubling thee even in thy weakness, but thy appearance in the news deeply caught my attention. It was imperative for me to finally meet thee,” he responded with a slight bow. He chose to show himself respectful and courteous.

"I sense you wish to know what brings me here," the judge concluded, remaining calm, with a slight smile on her lips.

"Verily. Furthermore, I shan't deny that having thy friendship is advantageous. Besides, I wish to inquire further about the Limbo. I have always been fascinated by the legends surrounding that domain," responded the Overlord, taking a few steps forward. The woman was intriguing. Zestial could wager that Alastor was already doing his utmost to gain the lady's trust. A challenging endeavor, undoubtedly.

"I must inform you that I cannot divulge much information. Nor do I intend to favor anyone. What I can say is that I have come here to report on the situation of Hell to the Supreme Judges. It has been a long time, and it is necessary to update the information we possess. To do so, I intend to remain as neutral as possible," said Victoria, with a cunning gleam in her eyes. "That being said, I am very glad to have your presence here... what better than an Overlord to speak to me about this circle of hell?"

Zestial could not refrain from a light laughter. The judge was playing her cards to gather information. "I understand. Yet it seemeth more suspicious to me that the supreme judges wish to update their knowledge about hell at this moment. As thou thyself didst point out, it hath been a long time. Surely there is some event that motivated such interest. Regarding the other matter... Dost thou not already have another Overlord by thy side?"

"Perhaps you are giving too much credit to the supremes and they simply needed something to entertain themselves with. And about Alastor, he hasn't been in hell as long as you have. When exactly did you arrive in hell? Was it difficult for you to be an Overlord? Do you think you are different from the Zestial who arrived in these domains?" said Victoria with genuine interest.

"Why dost thou inquire so deeply into me?" he asked, somewhat surprised. He could perceive that the judge was being genuine. However, that did not imply that she had no hidden motives behind that curiosity.

"I already told you. You managed to catch my attention. After all, you managed to make your way to my room by tricking Adrian, I assume... Is your curiosity about a minor judge that strong? What motivates that curiosity? What sparked that aspect of your personality? What are your motivations and what are the sources of those motivations? I believe it is convenient for me to fully understand such an ancient Overlord as yourself to infer the impacts that your presence has had on hell and how it influenced the current state of this circle," Victoria pointed out with great eloquence

Zestial began to laugh. This girl knew how to get someone talking, and he wasn't going to deny her that. He decided to sit in the chair beside the bed, conjuring a cup of tea. The girl was charming. He thought she could be a good ally of Carmilla's, or at the very least, a friend. "Very well, Your Honor," he said, getting comfortable. "Thou hast convinced me with thy eloquence. I shall answer thy questions, but I want something in return. Nothing complicated. Allow me one of these days to introduce thee to a friend of mine." The Overlord saw the judge nod. The girl inspired confidence. Her elegant presence and charisma made her a being with great potential. Zestial dared to think that this girl might even get the nobility on her good side and influence them. Perhaps she was the pawn they were looking for to unify the masses and have the princess under their influence. "So, Your Honor. Where do we begin?"

Alastor

After finishing his broadcast, he decided to linger at the station for a while. He tried to stop thinking about yesterday's events, but he found himself making excuses to visit Victoria. The judge had openly recognized his ability as a radio host and had also sincerely thanked him for his small rescue. Every time he thought about it, he felt a certain pride, but then the whirlwind of thoughts would come crashing back. He still had many questions to ask her, but he needed to find a way to confront her without his mind descending into chaos. On the other hand, he couldn't waste too much time, as she was now in the spotlight of prominent figures.

The judge was the key to his freedom. He needed to get her to nullify the contract that bound him, even if there was no real legal basis for it. She must have sufficient authority or at least the necessary knowledge. However, he found it difficult to believe that she would act corruptly. He would have to convince her somehow that it was for the greater good, or simply deceive her. But that would have to wait. For now, he needed to learn more about the Limbo and the Supreme Judges, because why limit his ambition only to Hell when he could aspire to also pull the strings of Limbo? Everyone had a weakness. Lucifer's was Charlie, for example. Surely the Supreme Judges were no different. Moreover, Alastor had no doubt that those beings could also die. Patience was needed.

"Alastor!" he heard Vaggie shout from outside his studio. "You better come out of there. Niffty is being more weird than her usual self, and I can't find Adrian anywhere. Take care of it."

Alastor frowned in irritation. Weren't they capable of dealing with anything on their own? Interrupted in his moment of peace, he had no choice but to investigate what was going on. He transported himself out of his studio with Vaggie, concealing his annoyance. "There's no need to shout. It's quite annoying," he informed the former exterminator.

"Ugh, don't you hear the commotion?"

"Mmmm no," the radio host responded mockingly. "We all have the right to rest from others, and I've learned to ignore them, like white noise. Well, let's not waste any time. I'll go see what's going on with our little companion." Once again, Alastor transported himself, arriving in the lobby, where Niffty was running frantically around everywhere, beside herself. Then, the small woman headed to different areas of the hotel, non-stop. Eventually, Alastor stood in front of her, causing Niffty to bump into his legs. "What's going on, Niffty? Some particularly elusive insect?"

"Something like that, Alastor," she replied with that disturbing laughter. "A very bad boy slipped away from me. Adrian tricked me with the windows."

"I beg you pardon?" he inquired, confused. Had Niffty's instability reached the point of delirium?

"Adrian brought us a very, very bad man, Alastor. With four eyes and a spider leg bow tie. Taller than you. I'm looking for him to take something from him and add it to my collection," Niffty continued, even more unrestrained

Alastor felt a chill run down his spine. That description matched Zestial. How could he have underestimated the Overlord so much? It was only a matter of time before he connected the dots and appeared at the hotel, but he never thought it would be so soon or in such an inconspicuous manner. How had no one noticed his presence? Without wasting a second, he appeared in Victoria's room, finding an unexpected scene.

Sitting upright on the bed, with a cup of tea, was the judge, engaged in a friendly and lively conversation with Zestial, who was casually seated in the chair next to the bed. Both fell silent and looked at him when they realized his abrupt arrival in the room. Zestial smiled at him, squinting his eyes.

"Alastor," Victoria called out. "It's rude to appear like this in someone's room," she scolded, tilting her head.

""I would venture to say the offense is greater considering that this is a lady's chamber," the old Overlord added indifferently, but Alastor knew that Zestial was enjoying his humiliation.

"My apologies, dear judge, but I thought your integrity might be threatened upon learning of Zestial's presence in the hotel," he reluctantly replied. Of course Zestial would play the role of the gentleman!

"My integrity threatened by Zestial? Oh, don't be absurd," Victoria chuckled lightly. "This gentleman is very kind, with impeccable manners and a fascinating story. We're simply learning from each other."

"Verily, thy grace hath a silver tongue," Zestial continued, his gaze fixed upon Alastor. "Yea, she is a charming damsel. I comprehend why thou didst keep her hidden, Alastor. But thou needst not bear the task of her welfare alone any longer, for we are now comrades," the archaic Overlord said, placing his hand on the judge's shoulder.

"Splendid!" replied the broadcaster, masking his irritation. Zestial had barely interacted with Victoria and already he called her his friend! Not only did he have the audacity to touch her shoulder, but also to proclaim himself her protector when only he had that right. "But Zestial, believe me, it wasn't merely out of preference that I hid the judge's presence. Her grace insisted on keeping her visit confidential," he continued, feigning indifference. "I hope there are no hard feelings between us." Alastor felt his ego being attacked by the Overlord and was unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing him irritated. He wanted to deny it, but he was deeply frustrated that Zestial thought it was so easy to gain the judge's trust, as if all the efforts he, Alastor, had made so far were worth nothing. It was like being a spectator in his own play. No, Alastor had already decided that Victoria was his source of entertainment, and he wasn't willing to let anyone else monopolize that fun. After all, she was his challenge.

It's reassuring to know that I have the support of two Overlords," said Victoria amiably, taking a sip of tea. Her carefree attitude infuriated Alastor even more.

"Well, dear judge, I fail to see why bother Zestial when I am more than enough," replied the radio demon, not holding back his words but maintaining a cheerful tone. "After all, he's already somewhat Carmilla's protector. Besides, you seem to have a knack for causing trouble, don't you?"

"Really? Well, Zestial, you do seem to enjoy looking after people, don't you?" Victoria remarked, looking at the archaic being, ignoring Alastor's sarcastic comment.

"Verily, I cannot gainsay it. 'Tis but individuals of worth. Both possess determination and strength of character. 'Twould be naive not to wager on thee," replied Zestial with pride

"In that case, Alastor is right. I truly don't want to inconvenience you. And from our conversation, I can tell that you are a busy individual," remarked the judge, setting a certain boundary with Zestial. "But don't doubt that I will come to you if I need help."

"Fear not, Judge Victoria. I expect no more. And Alastor," continued the ancient Overlord, transporting himself before him, "There is no ill will. Your grace has vouched for thee already."

Alastor glanced at Zestial. Clearly, those words weren't entirely honest. The archaic being was going to seize any opportunity to level the playing field. He didn't blame him. Certainly, the situation could have been worse. "How delightful to hear that, dear friend."

"I bid thee farewell for the moment. We shall meet again, Judge," concluded Zestial as he departed the room.

Alastor remained silent, gazing at the chair where Zestial had been sitting just minutes ago, trying to contain his annoyance. How could the Overlord claim friendship with Victoria as if it were so easy? He hadn't even interacted with her enough to arrogate that title. How could he be losing ground so easily? And why on earth wasn't Victoria seeing through Zestial's machinations? Didn't she see that he, too, was an opportunist looking out for his own agenda? Why did it bother him so much that she was giving in so easily? Why did he hate that someone else was trying to enter the game between them? It churned his stomach with irritation that Zestial would seek to win the favor of the judge in the same way he did.

"He's a pleasant fellow. Don't you think?" Victoria remarked with a smile. That was the last straw.

"Are you out of your mind? Do you really think Zestial is a good fellow? Don't be naive! You're cautious with me, but with him, you let yourself be fooled by pretty words and manners? He's another opportunist seeking his own benefit. Like everyone else here!" he reproached, barely containing his frustration.

"Oh, come on," she replied with a small laugh. "He was quite pleasant and helpful. And he didn't even make much effort to hide his true nature."

"Does your arrogance cloud your judgment? Getting involved with him will only bring trouble. Don't trust him," he continued, growing more frustrated at Victoria's lack of seriousness. "Zestial is an ancient being who knows perfectly well how to play his cards. After all, I couldn't get rid of him back then. And here you are, playing tea party as if he were a harmless rabbit."

"You're exaggerating. I assure you this won't affect your own interests," the judge replied, shrugging.

Alastor bit his lower lip, feeling frustration and confusion creeping over him. He didn't know how to explain to Victoria what he was really feeling because he couldn't even understand it himself. Why did he always end up questioning his relationship with her? Why did her opinion of him matter so much? He couldn't help but feel a certain... emotional connection, despite his efforts to deny it. But no, it couldn't be. This is just a game, a pastime. Or is it? A means to an end. Alastor decided to try another angle and be honest. "Victoria, I didn't lie yesterday when I told you that you've earned my respect. I hope to be able to have a camaraderie with you," he finished, thinking of Rossi. Curiously, it didn't leave him satisfied, but for now, it was enough to calm his mind.

"Alastor, didn't I tell you not to underestimate me? I thought you had already learned that," Victoria said with a soft, kind and playful voice. "I understand Zestial's intentions perfectly well, and I don't take his words seriously. I simply played along. I know he's cunning, but it was necessary to enter his courtesy board to get what I wanted."

"What do you mean?" he asked, feeling curiosity slowly replacing his irritation.

"My job, Alastor. Remember that I'm here to determine if there are redeemable souls here. I hope that this investigation ends with a staggering number of salvageable souls and thus achieves a change in the system, an improvement. For that, I need to have information on as many souls as possible. And I don't just mean the story of their lives. For that, I could simply lock myself in the Limbo archive. I need to know their motivations, the source of their decisions, every introspection they've made since their arrival in hell, their reflections, hopes, and shattered dreams. I need to know the depth of their hearts." Alastor absorbed Victoria's words, surprised by the depth of her mission in hell. For a moment, his mind shifted away from frustration and immersed itself in the seriousness of the task she had undertaken. "So, is Zestial just a pawn in your larger game?" he asked, seeking to fully understand Victoria's strategy.

She nodded with a smile, her eyes shining with determination. "I hate to call it a game, but yes. Zestial is just one of the many players on this board. My goal is to gather as much information as possible to make informed decisions about the fate of these souls. To truly make a change. There are many things I don't agree with in this system," she explained. "I can't afford to overlook any opportunity to obtain valuable information, even if it means playing the role Zestial has for me. You must understand that to achieve this, I must be open with the souls of this place and show a genuine interest in them, something I truly have. I'm not here just for the Supreme Judges; I'm here for myself and for my ideals."

Alastor couldn't help but let out a small laugh. The Radio Host couldn't help but see himself reflected in the judge's ambition. She looked at him confused for his reaction. "Don't misunderstand me, my dear judge. I'm not mocking you. I just find it incredible how, despite being so different, having such divergent goals, we both long for something greater. The pursuit of power and knowledge, the need to challenge the limits imposed on us. Darling, you want to challenge the status quo, playing this game to achieve your goals. Your methods may not resemble mine, but whether you like it or not, you and I are not so different," he concluded, leaning on his cane with a wide smile. Realizing that her presence went beyond blind obedience confirmed his suspicions. This woman was much more than she let on. She was a force that not only had to be reckoned with but also mastered.

The judge looked at him perplexed. Her mouth moved as if she wanted to deny his words, but she couldn't find a way to argue against them. Her amber-colored eyes looked at him completely open. Alastor couldn't help but smile conspiratorially at Victoria's confused expression. He had never seen her put on such a different expression from her elegant and dignified aura, from her usual calm demeanor. It was a sight he was deeply enjoying. "Perhaps you're right," Victoria replied, looking away.

"Don't be so surprised, my dear judge. After all, we are two forces sharing a determination that defies established norms. Beings like us always strive for something, be it power, knowledge, justice, or simply freedom." Alastor fell silent after his exchange with Victoria, letting his own words resonate in his mind. The feeling of discomfort was making its presence felt again, but this time he wasn't going to let it dominate him. He had to face it. He couldn't deny it anymore; it was impossible to continue rejecting any hint of an emotional connection with the judge. He had convinced himself that these interactions were just a game, a strategy meant to satisfy his own desires and ambitions, to find an endless source of entertainment. He scolded himself. He should have listened to his instinct when it screamed at him to stay away. The situation was completely bewildering and inexplicable, but a fact nonetheless. How could he have allowed this to happen? To have an emotional attachment? It was ridiculous, and it infuriated him. He felt as if he had betrayed his own nature and identity. He still had time to distance himself, but a part of him refused to do so because he still had goals to achieve in which she was an important card. Once again, she was his challenge, and now he had even less reason to allow anyone to claim her attention, time, or interest.

"I find it hard to admit that you understand me more than I thought. I thought there would be mockery or disdain from your part. You're more insightful than I had anticipated," Victoria admitted with a small smile curving her lips. "Perhaps this camaraderie you seek is a good idea."

Those words were enough for Alastor to feel that warm sensation in his stomach again. However, that feeling was quickly replaced by the frustration that all of this caused him, by the betrayal he felt toward himself. Without thinking, he approached Victoria and leaned towards her. The judge looked absolutely surprised.

"My dear judge, I'm glad you understand," Alastor said in a cold voice, "but for that, it's crucial that there are no secrets between us," he continued, taking her chin so she wouldn't look away. "Tell me, my dear Victoria. Why do you bleed red?"

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TAGLIST!!

@slytherin4ever

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Link part XII

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[yvanspijk]

The f of laugh

Why is laugh written with -ugh while it ends with an [f] sound? It's because the spelling laugh reflects how the word was pronounced in Late Middle English, some 500 years ago. Click the video to listen to a phonetic reconstruction of how this verb evolved from 3rd-century BC Proto-Germanic to modern-day Standard English. The Middle English to Early Modern English stages are based on the dialect of the region of London.

#historical linguistics #linguistics #language #etymology #english #proto-germanic #proto-west germanic #old english #middle english #early new english #video #audio #lingblr