Adventures in wordcraft!
Words are fun, and the English language is made up almost entirely of them. And whats fun about them is that we’re able to bend and twist them however we want as long as we stick to afew established rules.
(I won’t be getting into the rules today, of course; I’m not a damn linguistics professor)
For todays fun experiment, I composed a short little paragraph:
“The Chapel was empty when I entered. I sat in a chair near the door, wondering what my next move should be. I knew that whatever choice I made, Charlie wouldn’t forgive me. Too much time had passed, and the changes we’d gone through since the last time we spoke were too much to overcome. I had cheated on his mother and abandoned my family to pursue my own selfish needs. And even though I knew my sins would catch up with me sooner or later, I had to face the reality that there was no chance of me ever making it right.”
And now, just because I can, I’m going to change every instance of a ‘ch’ into an ‘f’.
Which means it now reads as follows:
“The Fapel was empty when I entered. I sat in a fair near the door, wondering what my next move should be. I knew that whatever foice I made, Farlie wouldn’t forgive me. Too much time had passed, and the fanges we’d gone through since the last time we spoke were too much to overcome. I had cheated on his mother and abandoned the famnily to pursue my own selfish needs. And even though I knew my sins would catf up with me sooner or later, I had to face the reality that there was no fance of me ever making it right.”
But that didn’t read goofy enough, so I decided to replace all the ‘e’s with ‘u’s:
“Thu Fapul was umpty when I unturud. I sat in a fair nuar the door, wonduring what my nuxt movu should bu. I knuw that whatuvur foicu I madu, Farliu wouldn’t forgivu mu. Too much timu had passud, and thu fangus wu’d gonu through sincu the last timu wu spoku wuru too much to ovurcomu. I had chuutud on his mothur and abandonud my family to pursuu my own sulfish nuuds. And uvun though I knuw my sins would catf up with mu soonur or latur, I had to facu the ruulity that thuru was no fancu of mu uvur making it right.”
But even that didn’t really do it for me, so I decided to randomly as ‘da-‘ or dan-‘as a prefix, to see how that would sound:
“Thu Fapul was danumpty when I unturud. I sat in a fair nuar the dandoor, wonduring what my nuxt damovu should bu. I knuw that whatuvur foicu I madu, Farliu wouldn’t forgivu mu. Too much datimu had passud, and thu dafangus wu’d gonu through sincu the last timu wu spoku wuru too much to ovurcomu. I had danchuutud on his mothur and abandonud my family to pursuu my own sulfish nuuds. And uvun though I knuw my sins would catf up with mu soonur or latur, I had to facu the reulity that thuru was no fancu of mu uvur making it right.”
But it still seemed unwieldy, so I added ‘brap’ as a ramon suffix:
Thu Fapul was danumpty when I unturud. I sat in a fairbrap nuar the dandoor, wonduring what my nuxt damovu should bubrap. I knuw that whatuvur foicubrap I madu, Farliu wouldn’t forgivu mu. Too much datimubrap had passud, and thu dafangus wu’d gonubrap through sincu thu last timu wu spokubrap wuru too much to ovurcomu. I had danchuutud on his mothurbrap and abandonud my family to pursuu my own sulfish nuuds. And uvun though I daknuw my sins would catf up with mu soonurbrap or latur, I had to facubrap the ruulity that thuru was no fancu of mu uvur making it right.
And then I realized that I was slowly turning into James Joyce, so I stopped.
Pryorball. 