"Rooflez!!! Look at this doootness! It's such a hap coloUr, I think I'll go jumpage on a Granny!"
I recently discovered the natural phenomenon that is English. In doing so, I made two important observations: it's confusing and it sucks. I mean, granted, it's much better than its counterpart, American, but there are some giant improvements which need to be made.
First, however, let us look at the aforementioned "American", so as to not make the same mistakes as it does. It is undeniably similar to English, with some key differences:
Example:
"Billy's mUm forgot to iron his TROUSERS. Meanwhile, a flying encyclopÆdia ate his sister."
See? Much better.
So, on to the problems with every day English. First up:
Alrighty then, as the subheader suggests, this bit's on those pesky little critters, Homonyms (and their counterparts, Homophones). "What's wrong with them?" said one cheap green retractable. I'll tell you what, fool biro, they're confusing with a side dish of hella cool, that's what. I mean, sure, I like pie, but I don't like π. Try saying that without turning a few faces at your fancy dinner parties, why don't you? In similar fashion, the following words can be rather annoying:
You enter a dark room roughly ten by twenty five metres, with exits to the north and south. You see three time paradoxes. Increase AC by 1.
Now, you may be a bit confused by the above sentence, but let it be known you had much less fun reading it than I had writing it. Now, take into consideration you are in the dark about its meaning. The fact you are in the dark does not necessarily mean you're in the dark (although, in this case, you are). And although you might learn to play D&D, you would still be in the dark, because the room's lanterns are out. You could also be in the dark about the band of goblin treasure hunters that are tailing your every move, or about the treasure chest hidden six feet below your feet. If you explored the sunken church even more, you would find you were no longer in the dark about quite a number of things things (while still in the dark, if you're keeping track, and in the dark about the hole the goblins have dug in the ten by twenty five metre room). Then, if you went back to the ten by twenty five metre room, you would discover yourself in the dark, in the dark, in the dark, in the dark, in a hole, in the park.
Although it is extremely likely you will always be in the dark about something, because there is so much going on in the world to be in the dark about, it is nice to reflect that you can also be in the dark about being in the dark about something (even when it's a hot sunny day). Also, if the sun were to go down really quickly, you could find yourself in the dark about being in the dark, only to look around you and discover you're no longer in the dark about being in the dark, while in the dark all the same. This is all very well, but you have no idea how in the dark I am right now (so you're in the dark about that, too).
Annoying, eh? Well, as with Homonyms, I really think each one should be numbered, so let's look at that in correct New English:
You enter a dark room roughly ten by twenty five metREs, with exits to the north and south. You see three time paradoxes. Increase AC by 1.
Now, you may be a bit confused by the above sentence, but let it be known you had much less fun reading it than I had writing it. Now, take into consideration you are in the dark1 about its meaning. The fact you are in the dark1 does not necessarily mean you're in the dark2 (although, in this case, you are). And although you might learn to play D&D, you would still be in the dark2, because the room's lanterns are out. You could also be in the dark3 about the band of goblin treasure hunters that are tailing your every move, or about the treasure chest hidden six feet1 below your feet2. If you explored the sunken church even more, you would find you were no longer in the dark4 about quite a number of things things (while still in the dark2, if you're keeping track, and in the dark5 about the hole the goblins have dug in the ten by twenty five metRE room). Then, if you went back to the ten by twenty five metRE room, you would discover yourself in the dark1, in the dark2, in the dark3, in the dark5, in a hole, in the park.*
Sorted... Next up,
In New English, the exclaimation mark will be completely abolished.
I mean, sure, they've got plenty of sentimental value, and they look pretty cool on hats, but the amount of misuse is appalling. They used to be great. When the exclaimation mark was first introduced, the language was rife with exciting experimentation and fun-doing. But then some free radicals just took it too far: where one exclaimation mark would do, twenty were offensively scribbled. When a sentence should have ended with a genial full stop, it would instead be slashed to pieces by this punctuationary abomination. And then some. So I hope you understand that I am removing the exclaimation mark, not for my own twisted goals, but grudgingly, with the safety of the general public in mind.
At this stage, I am going to formally introduce some new words into New English, accompanied with the appropriate dictionary entries:
So, as a reminder, here's a sentence written in completely correct New English:
"Rooflez!!! Look at this doootness! It's such a hap coloUr, I think I'll go jumpage on a Granny!"
"What's that flying lollipop doing?" I hear you ask, to which I reply,
"What?! It's above the word "Rooflez," damnit!" But I'll let you off, because I like your style. Here, let me explain:
Now, what language would be complete without some weird symbols? I suggest that the following pictograms be added as standard to all documentation:
- Placed above text. Application to "Rooflez" is mandatory.
- Placed below text. Optional when refering to water.
- Placed anywhere in text; under, over, inside out – it doesn't matter. Just put it somewhere, or the gopher who carries the pages around the internet'll get pissed and start throwing porn at everyone.I can really see New English catching on...