Language lovers have long bewailed the sad state of pronunciation and articulation in the United States. Both in sorrow and in anger, speakers afflicted with sensitive ears wince at such mumblings as guvmint for government and sussinct for succinct.
Indeed, everywhere we turn we are assaulted by people who hafta, oughta or are gonna do something or who shoulda, woulda or coulda done it.
Here’s a typical American exchange:
“Jeet jet?”
“No, jew?”
“’Sgo.”
Translation: “Did you eat yet?” No, did you?” “Let’s go.”
In a New Yorker article, John Davenport labeled this kind of sublanguage “Slurvian.” In its purest and most delightful form, Slurvian mispronounces English words into other English words. To help you translate Slurvian into English and to honor the unintentional ingenuity of the tin of ear, I offer a grotesque glossary of pure Slurvian:
Antidote. A story. “I love your antidote about the time you made dinner for the boss.” Bar. To take temporarily. “May I bar your eraser?” Calvary. A mobile army unit. “The wagon train was saved by the calvary.” Dense. A tooth specialist. “Yuck! I have a dense appointment today.” Forced. A large cluster of trees. “Only you can prevent forced fires.”
Formally. Earlier. “Today she’s a millionaire, but formally she tried to make a living as an English teacher.” Forward. Prefatory remarks. “Who will write a forward for my book?” Girl. An article of clothing. “She had to work hard to get her girl on.” Granite. Conceded. “Never take someone for granite.” Intensive. Part of an idiom, as in “For all intensive purposes, proper pronunciation will help you in your job.”
Lays. The opposite of “gemmen.” “Lays and gemmen, I now introduce our guest speaker.” Less. Contraction of “let us.” “Less learn more about Slurvian.” Lining. Electrical flash of light. “Listen to that thunder and lining.” Mere. A reflecting glass. “Mere, mere, on the wall, who’s the fairest one of all?” Mill. Between the beginning and the end. “A table stood in the mill of the room.”
Mince. Units lasting 60 seconds. “I’ll be back in a few mince.” Money. Day after Sunny. “I’ll be back next Money.” Neck Store. Adjacent. “I’m in love with the girl neck store.” A spectacular double play. Nigh. Opposite of “day.” “I often have to get up in the mill of the nigh and thus give new meaning to the expression ‘the wee hours.’” Of. Have. “I could of danced all nigh.”
Pain. Giving money. “I’m tired of pain these high prices at the pump.” Pal. To locomote a craft on water. “It’s your turn to pal the canoe.” Paramour. Grass-cutting machine. “Less try out the new paramour on the lawn.” Pitcher. An image or representation. “As soon as we get the pitcher framed, we’ll hang it above the sofa.” Please. Officers of the law. “My house was robbed! Call the please!”
Sunny. Day before Money. “When Sunny comes, can Money be far behind?” Terraced. A group of people who use terror for political ends. “We must destroy this terraced operation.” Torment. A competition. “Mabel and I have entered a bridge torment.” Whore. Result of feeling terror. “Whore films scare me out of my wits.” Win. Movement of air. “I was awakened in the mill of the nigh by flashes of lining and gusts of win.” Winner. The cold season. “Many birds fly south for the winner.”
Slurvophobes unite! Keep your eyes peeled and ears pricked, and send me more examples. Together we can record an important second language and publish a new and useful lexicon — The Concise Dictionary of American Slurvian.
Please send your questions and comments about language to richard.lederer@utsandiego.com verbivore.com