You Know What Fuck It, I Love You Historical Spelling. I Love You Weird Fossilised Preservations Of Obsolete

The whole “scientists use big words on purpose to be exclusive” is such a bunch of anti-intellectual bullshit. Specific and concise language exists for a reason; you need the right words to convey the right meaning, and explaining stuff right is a hugely important part of science. Cultures that live around loads of snow have loads of words to describe different types of snow; cultures that live in deserts have loads of words to describe different types of sand. Complex language is needed for complex meaning.

In my L1-acquisition class two weeks ago, our professor talked about how only 9% of the speech a baby hears is single words. Everything else is phrases and sentences, onslaughts of words and meaning!

Thus, a baby not only has to learn words and their meanings but also learn to segment lots of sounds INTO words. Doyouwantalittlemoresoupyesyoudoyoucutie. Damn.

When she talked about HOW babies learn to segment words our professor said, and I love it, "babies are little statisticians" because when listening to all the sounds, they start understanding what sound is likely to come after another vs which is not.

After discussing lots of experiments done with babies, our professor added something that I already knew somewhere in my brain but didn't know I know: All this knowledge is helpful when learning an L2 as well:

Listen to natives speaking their language. Original speed. Whatever speaker. Whatever topic.

It is NOT about understanding meaning. It is about learning the rhythm of the language, getting a feeling for its sound, the combination of sounds, the melody and the pronunciation.

Just how babies have to learn to identify single words within waves of sounds, so do adults learning a language. It will help immensely with later (more intentional) listening because you're already used to the sound, can already get into the groove of the languge.

Be as brave as a baby.

You don't even have to pay special attention. Just bathe in the sound of your target language. You'll soak it up without even noticing.

A group of far-future linguists and archeologists suddenly *poof* into existence in front of me. One is holding a tablet. "What is the difference between 'red sauce' and 'tomato sauce?'" they ask me. "The distinction is not clear in extant texts from this time and place."

"Uh, they're the same thing," I tell them. "Who are you?"

"Yes!" the being with the tablet exclaims.

One of the other researchers groans. "No! My thesis...months of writing wasted..." One of the others comforts them.

"Now, what is this object for?" The first researcher holds up a discolored, dinged-up plastic object. It's clearly been buried in the ground for quite some time, but the two holes and the scuffed plastic window are distinctive.

"That's a cassette tape. You record music with it."

"Interesting, interesting." The being enters something on the tablet.

"How are you speaking English?"

"Sophisticated translation technology," one of the researchers confides. "We are students of your society. From the future."

"What does this pictogram represent?" The researcher with the tablet turns it around so that the screen faces me.

It's the eggplant emoji.

"Sex," I say. "Why do you need to ask me this if you can time travel or whatever? Can't you just go wherever you want to go and look around and see how these things are being used?"

The beings shift guiltily and look at each other. "Technically, travel to times and places prior the advent of time travel is strictly prohibited. Paradoxes, you know."

"Oh."

"We must get back before our advisor returns to the lab. Just don't tell anyone you saw us, alright? The space-time continuity depends on it. Can you do that?"

"Uh, sure, I guess?"

One of them pats me on the head. "And don't go to Mars."

"Okay. Wait, why? Is it dangerous?"

"No. Just not worth it."

The group disappears in a shimmering light.

The cassette clatters to the sidewalk behind them.

Out of befuddlement, mainly, I pick it up. It's clearly old, discolored and scuffed, but it still has tape in it.

I carry the tape around in my pocket for a while. The curiosity builds. I want to know what's on that tape. I don't have a cassette player anymore, so I go to Goodwill and pick up the first one I can find, praying that it still works. I plug it in. It turns on.

I slide the tape inside. It's dirty, but it still seems to be in decent shape. I snap the player closed and hit play. The wheels begin to turn. I hold my breath.

A familiar tune starts up. A wobbly voice comes out of the machine.

We're no strangers to love

Ryo Yamada - Bocchi the Rock! [1]

why are british people always so mad when people make jokes about their accents. sorry you say yewchube. it’s funny though innit

Blaspheming fairies and fabulous prophets

What do the words fairy, prophet, fabulous, to blaspheme and fatal have in common? They're all derived from a Proto-Indo-European root meaning 'to speak'"'. The f-words came to us via Latin, the ph-words via Ancient Greek. I gave either group its own graphic.

Making a graphic costs me up to four hours, but it is and will always remain a hobby. However, if you'd like to support my work for an ice-cream or a pair of socks a month, I'd be thrilled if you'd subscribe to my Patreоn.

thank you doraemon <333

confidential to our Tumblr followers, we love you the most.