I Ponder Sapir-whorf
Another sectional extract from my novel on Sapir-Whorf.
Albert A. Stone’s Theory of Relativity tells us quite a bit more. Bert knew the strongest and simplest language, the very best words that got to the heart of the best things we possessed or did, that sounded rich when rolled out of the throat, and snapped across conversational space, had the following attributes:
began with hard k (= c) consonants;
acknowledged that no sound could be better than initial or final k (=c) sounds;
they were short, often monosyllabic;
they ended with strong sounding consonants, sometimes again a k (= c) sound.
Most of the words recorded by Michelson and Morley are short. Single strong sounds. Words like ****, **** and **** deploy strong initial consonants, and the very best of them like **** [sounding = kok], or **** [dik], involve strong final consonants as well. ****, after a strong start, begins to fall away with the intrusive nasal n sound, but regathers itself by deploying an ultimate t, to finish in style, such that the combined nt final sound that we hear, seems fairly strong, though not as much so as the pure symmetry and resonant beauty of a word like ****.
The Sapir-Whorf Hypothesis of linguistic anthropology told Bert, via instruction from Basilangelo Besso, that such words, used in fundamental classification of objects and concepts, reflected more than just different words. Basil: the basic tenet of the SW hypothesis tells us that objects and concepts are conceived and perceived in fundamentally different ways, following the words we use to name them. Bert knew everything was relatives, but wondered why anyone would want to use an airyfairy wishywashy word like penis, or even a mumbling vibrato set of sounds like member, when one could articulate the tonal quality of ****. A stellar word.
Words like penis and vagina try to insert themselves, puffed up as they are with their own self importance, as Big Words, to sound and look better than words like **** and ****, which are judged (by them, whoever they are) to be crude and rude. But as these words attempt to accelerate to a state of bliss beyond the initial c consonant, they reveal their weak and flabby initial p and v sounds, like so much hot air rushing out of a sphinctered orifice, they fall back on nasal n sounds and the dj sound of a medial g, ending with weak hissing s and perplexed a? sounds, become infinitely silly, raising themselves up to an infinite mass of silliness in fact, and collapse thereafter, in deceleration, back to their own puerile academic, Greek or Latin derived, pompous timid sounding terms. Nothing can start as strong as initial c (= k).
Some good words begin with a weaker sound like **** (f), or ***** (p, pr), but redeem themselves by ending in style, with the strong k sound. This strength is multiplied in effect by the words being short and sharp. As opposed to a word like kundalini which sounds, to a modern English speaking ear, too long and rolly polly, its beginning good, but its power dissipating through the syllables, and finishing weakly. Whereas a word like **** has a power brought about by its shortness, its sharpness, a power to burst out of the mouth and grab attention, a word like kundalini is tired by the time all of it reaches our ear.
Also, words like ***** or fanny, so feminine in sound structure, lack all the power of a top class word like ****. Initial p or f sounds are not powerful, and the final y sound is like that in kundalini, a weeny sound of no great beauty. The penultimate syllabic contributions in these words are also weak, hissing ss and nasal nn sounds. Not attractive to the ear. **** has so much more bearing.
These fine words are formally judged, in mainstream usage, almost without exception, to be vulgar. Often they are bleeped out, just like the bloody in the old Johnny Horton song, or substituted altogether like Mr Jardine did in his poetry reading. Or they are blanked out in text, such that we see newspapers and other timid media showing abysmal constructions like **** or c**t, or using pathetic euphemistic expressions like the F word, or the C word. As though the very writing of such letters and words is a sinful lightning rod for superhuman wrath, something that cannot be tolerated, cannot be seen. Or, in the limit, we revert to the airyfairy Big Words of academic discourse [that word itself a terrible offering from The Big Words], and Greek and Latin heritage, by using such linguistic abominations as penis or vagina, or sexual intercourse.
Bert reasoned that there is a cowardice about such use of language, and he pondered why that could be so. Why do words frighten? What shock horror is there in hearing sounds like **** or ****? ***** or ****? Why are users judged to be vulgar, unacceptable, uncouth, for speaking such beautiful sounds? Why are they impolite? Why did Billy Midwinter get six of the best and expulsion for merely writing such a word?
What would the world look like, he wondered, if we came clean and admitted that words like penis and vagina, governorgeneral or sexualintercourse were clumsy and ugly, for starters, and then thereafter if we judged them to be impolite, vulgar, rude and crude? Would we then have them bleeped out? Would we see in newspapers references to the p***s and the v****a, or read that the g*******g*****l undertook s*****i*********e? Or would they save space by referring to the P word, the V word, the GG word, or the SI word?
The Theory of Relativity tells us that **** is an appropriate word to use, in whatever contexts we like; that we are entitled to make our own judgments about vulgarity, or crudeness, or politeness; and that words such as member, oldfella or penis are not of any intrinsic higher value or greater worth, much less vulgarity free, than a word like ****. These last have no inherent politeness or propriety about them other than our own cultural judgments. They have not been handed down on the ancient mount, hacked into tablets by lightning, by some mythical originator of language. They have been invented by ordinary hominids like you and me, and approved or disapproved over time by many other very ordinary hominids who just happen to have some ways about themselves.
Linguistic cowards (Bert’s term) do not understand this, and have neither appreciation of the theory, nor its empirical state in the linguistic universe. They have instead, certainty, that they are right, correct, proper, polite, and that therefore only certain words should be used in proper polite contexts, or if at all, at all, only in certain contexts which are characterised as Irish (or vulgar). Albert’s theory showed such certainty to be unwarranted and ultimately unsustainable.
Basil knew from the Sapir-Whorf Hypothesis that the words we employ, together with the conceptual categories they imply, shape the way we perceive the world. We look at the vacant lot next door, and all we see is weeds. We don’t see a complex ecosystem of pioneer plant species, some seeds good for eating, some leaves good for chemical production. Blackfellas see that, Indians do too, and Vietnamese. Yes, said Bert when informed by his brother of this, we undo a fly and we see ****. We push apart thighs and we smell ****.
Bert didn’t yet know why, but it was clear that cowardice in linguistic usage implied a perceptual cowardice in parts of our culture, or in entire collective cultures. Picasso said anyone can draw, it’s seeing that’s important. Bert said, anyone can open a fly, it’s seeing **** that’s important. Those who undid flies and saw penis, or some other term for unmentionables, probably never undid flies, other than their own, or if they did, they never saw, or if they did, they saw as medical practitioners or academic anatomists. They only perceived the mmmmmmity mmm, or whatever terrified euphemism they trowelled over the earthy human reality. These people saw the world vastly different; perceived the world vastly different; they lived a world vastly different. Bert lived in an open, earthy, warm, easygoing, transparent, nice world of ***** and *****. Others lived in a world of their own perception, whose degree of certainty often blew out toward infinity, and whose tolerance margins often fit your average postage stamp.
Albert A. Stone’s Theory of Relativity tells us quite a bit more. Bert knew the strongest and simplest language, the very best words that got to the heart of the best things we possessed or did, that sounded rich when rolled out of the throat, and snapped across conversational space, had the following attributes:
began with hard k (= c) consonants;
acknowledged that no sound could be better than initial or final k (=c) sounds;
they were short, often monosyllabic;
they ended with strong sounding consonants, sometimes again a k (= c) sound.
Most of the words recorded by Michelson and Morley are short. Single strong sounds. Words like ****, **** and **** deploy strong initial consonants, and the very best of them like **** [sounding = kok], or **** [dik], involve strong final consonants as well. ****, after a strong start, begins to fall away with the intrusive nasal n sound, but regathers itself by deploying an ultimate t, to finish in style, such that the combined nt final sound that we hear, seems fairly strong, though not as much so as the pure symmetry and resonant beauty of a word like ****.
The Sapir-Whorf Hypothesis of linguistic anthropology told Bert, via instruction from Basilangelo Besso, that such words, used in fundamental classification of ob
Words like penis and vagina try to insert themselves, puffed up as they are with their own self importance, as Big Words, to sound and look better than words like **** and ****, which are judged (by them, whoever they are) to be crude and rude. But as these words attempt to accelerate to a state of bliss beyond the initial c consonant, they reveal their weak and flabby initial p and v sounds, like so much hot air rushing out of a sphinctered orifice, they fall back on nasal n sounds and the dj sound of a medial g, ending with weak hissing s and perplexed a? sounds, become infinitely silly, raising themselves up to an infinite mass of silliness in fact, and collapse thereafter, in deceleration, back to their own puerile academic, Greek or Latin derived, pompous timid sounding terms. Nothing can start as strong as initial c (= k).
Some good words begin with a weaker sound like **** (f), or ***** (p, pr), but redeem themselves by ending in style, with the strong k sound. This strength is multiplied in effect by the words being short and sharp. As opposed to a word like kundalini which sounds, to a modern English speaking ear, too long and rolly polly, its beginning good, but its power dissipating through the syllables, and finishing weakly. Whereas a word like **** has a power brought about by its shortness, its sharpness, a power to burst out of the mouth and grab attention, a word like kundalini is tired by the time all of it reaches our ear.
Also, words like ***** or fanny, so feminine in sound structure, lack all the power of a top class word like ****. Initial p or f sounds are not powerful, and the final y sound is like that in kundalini, a weeny sound of no great beauty. The penultimate syllabic contributions in these words are also weak, hissing ss and nasal nn sounds. Not attractive to the ear. **** has so much more bearing.
These fine words are formally judged, in mainstream usage, almost without exception, to be vulgar. Often they are bleeped out, just like the bloody in the old Johnny Horton song, or substituted altogether like Mr Jardine did in his poetry reading. Or they are blanked out in text, such that we see newspapers and other timid media showing abysmal constructions like **** or c**t, or using pathetic euphemistic ex
Bert reasoned that there is a cowardice about such use of language, and he pondered why that could be so. Why do words frighten? What shock horror is there in hearing sounds like **** or ****? ***** or ****? Why are users judged to be vulgar, unacceptable, uncouth, for speaking such beautiful sounds? Why are they impolite? Why did Billy Midwinter get six of the best and expulsion for merely writing such a word?
What would the world look like, he wondered, if we came clean and admitted that words like penis and vagina, governorgeneral or sexualintercourse were clumsy and ugly, for starters, and then thereafter if we judged them to be impolite, vulgar, rude and crude? Would we then have them bleeped out? Would we see in newspapers references to the p***s and the v****a, or read that the g*******g*****l undertook s*****i*********e? Or would they save space by referring to the P word, the V word, the GG word, or the SI word?
The Theory of Relativity tells us that **** is an appropriate word to use, in whatever contexts we like; that we are entitled to make our own judgments about vulgarity, or crudeness, or politeness; and that words such as member, oldfella or penis are not of any intrinsic higher value or greater worth, much less vulgarity free, than a word like ****. These last have no inherent politeness or propriety about them other than our own cultural judgments. They have not been handed down on the ancient mount, hacked into tablets by lightning, by some mythical originator of language. They have been invented by ordinary hominids like you and me, and approved or disapproved over time by many other very ordinary hominids who just happen to have some ways about themselves.
Linguistic cowards (Bert’s term) do not understand this, and have neither appreciation of the theory, nor its empirical state in the linguistic universe. They have instead, certainty, that they are right, correct, proper, polite, and that therefore only certain words should be used in proper polite contexts, or if at all, at all, only in certain contexts which are characterised as Irish (or vulgar). Albert’s theory showed such certainty to be unwarranted and ultimately unsustainable.
Basil knew from the Sapir-Whorf Hypothesis that the words we employ, together with the conceptual categories they imply, shape the way we perceive the world. We look at the vacant lot next door, and all we see is weeds. We don’t see a complex ecosystem of pioneer plant species, some seeds good for eating, some leaves good for chemical production. Blackfellas see that, Indians do too, and Vietnamese. Yes, said Bert when informed by his brother of this, we undo a fly and we see ****. We push apart thighs and we smell ****.
Bert didn’t yet know why, but it was clear that cowardice in linguistic usage implied a perceptual cowardice in parts of our culture, or in entire collective cultures. Picasso said anyone can draw, it’s seeing that’s important. Bert said, anyone can open a fly, it’s seeing **** that’s important. Those who undid flies and saw penis, or some other term for unmentionables, probably never undid flies, other than their own, or if they did, they never saw, or if they did, they saw as medical practitioners or academic anatomists. They only perceived the mmmmmmity mmm, or whatever terrified euphemism they trowelled over the earthy human reality. These people saw the world vastly different; perceived the world vastly different; they lived a world vastly different. Bert lived in an open, earthy, warm, easygoing, transparent, nice world of ***** and *****. Others lived in a world of their own perception, whose degree of certainty often blew out toward infinity, and whose tolerance margins often fit your average postage stamp.
By:
KenWX
Age:
61-65
,
Male
