Sweetheart’s looking for an answer …
Looking for insightful views …
So Ira, help her if you can, sir …
Help that lady lose the blues …
… Hey! Ira!
Give that girl some booze!
Just a small emollient
Cures it all … alcohol!
Ira doesn’t have an answer …
Doesn’t have insightful views …
But he has got a mood enhancer …
Some Galliano or Chartreuse …
… Hey! Sweetheart!
You could use some booze!
The ‘th’ noise in ‘thanks’ (and, for that matter, in ‘diphthong’) isn’t a diphthong. It’s a lingua-dental fricative. Now, the ‘ua’ noise in ‘lingua-dental’ — THAT’s a diphthong.
But I don’t think anyone has a reason to care, unless they needed to know what a ‘Hapax Legomenon’ was before Shaenon made it into the title of venusian royalty, and knew who Antonio Smith was based on.
Being a language geek can be a heavy burden. Shaenon deals with it in her way, and I deal with it in mine.
Especially since I suspect it’s something that has been _deliberately_ done to him. He seems to remember details about who people are when he is reminded of their names, and as far as I know that’s not how amnesia works: he’s either going to retain semantic memory (simple facts unrelated to specific points in time) or not, it’s not going to come and go with prompting. He also seems to maintain memory of being an employee at Skin Horse, rather than finding himself deeply puzzled about where he is all the time, and his actual age, given that he’s not constantly looking at reflecting surfaces and screaming “Aaargh!!! How did I get so old???”
Foradain: BA in linguistics here. A diphthong is a vowel that glides from one position to another, as in ‘out’ or ‘boy’. ‘Th’ is an interdental fricative that goes all labial. And there’s no reason she can’t say ‘k’ except that ‘Fanks’ isn’t as funny.
I was going to test this, because I have a hip flask around here somewhere; only when I was rummaging around for it I instead found the whiskey bottle and my last remaining K-cup of Jamaica Blue Mountain coffee. And, hey, there’s still some whipped cream left.
My experiment rendered the word roughly “Aññ-khh.”
Although… who knows what anatomical oddities Sweetheart has to allow her to talk? I recently listened to a Doctor Who audio drama involving dogs who’d had human palates and brain tissue grafted in to make them capable of speech. Happily, it looks like Cap’n Bram went the GM route.
On the other hand, there were strips that showed that she’s capable of drinking a blow-up swimming pool’s worth of tequila without dying, so I think she’s definitely got a higher alcohol tolerance than humans.
I still want to know how Foradain talks through a belt pouch.
Today’s strip led me to the horrifying conclusion that Ira’s service is Sweetheart’s only joy.
Also, while we’re on the topic of phonic enlightenment, and the “Fangs” line really did seem like a joke rather than a possible sound, because if you do hold a flask in your mouth, but can still move your tongue, it comes out more like “Hankh, Iya,” which isn’t half as funny. You cannot make an “F” sound unless you can get the whole flask in your mouth so that you can make your lips meet, which requires really big lips or a really small flask.
Not that I usually walk around holding a flask with my teeth, but in the interest of science some things must be done.
I still want to know how Foradain can talk through a belt pouch.
Is the implication here the Ira’s service is Sweetheart’s only joy?
In the interest of phonic enlightenment, “Fangs, Ira” has to be a joke, for the simple reason that you can’t make an “F” sound as her mouth is portrayed. It would come out more like “Hanks, Iya.” To achieve “Fangs, Ira” you would need to have a lips-to-flask ratio that is much higher, and be able to maneuver your tongue well enough for the “R” sound, a difficult mix as shown.
Not that I usually walk around with a flask in my teeth, making funny noises, but in the interest of science…
It might explain why he still has a job.
In fact he may be considerably brighter than he lets on.
He was savvy enough to get a security job in a climate of paranoia, which means the powers that be will insist he hang on well after retirement age.
I remember that without even following the link. Stomach churning.
Wouldn’t wish that on anyone.
Then again I recall a mixed drink we called “Uncle Ferrule’s Rocket Fuel” – 1/3 Each peppermint and spearmint super schnapps (the 100 proof stuff) and the local equivalent of moonshine or grain for the remaining third.
Can’t taste anything after the first mouthful. Trickle it down a log/board into a campfire and it burned purple….
Clearly the best advice. Nothing bad will come of this.
Actually, given sweethart’s metabolism, nothing bad will come of it.
(TUNE: “The Wall”, Pink Floyd)
Sweetheart’s looking for an answer …
Looking for insightful views …
So Ira, help her if you can, sir …
Help that lady lose the blues …
… Hey! Ira!
Give that girl some booze!
Just a small emollient
Cures it all … alcohol!
Ira doesn’t have an answer …
Doesn’t have insightful views …
But he has got a mood enhancer …
Some Galliano or Chartreuse …
… Hey! Sweetheart!
You could use some booze!
Just a small emollient
Cures it all … alcohol!
Am I the only one that had the chorus of kids singing the second verse?
No, you weren’t. Heh heh heh …
“Fangs, Ira”? That’s low. Clever, but low.
It’s not actually a pun, it’s that she can’t pronounce certain diphthongs properly while holding a canteen in her mouth. ^_^
Can you?
No, I can’t talk at all while holding a canteen in my mouth. Good thing I have a belt pouch for that!
I’d like to see her try to say diphthongs with a flask in her mouth!
The ‘th’ noise in ‘thanks’ (and, for that matter, in ‘diphthong’) isn’t a diphthong. It’s a lingua-dental fricative. Now, the ‘ua’ noise in ‘lingua-dental’ — THAT’s a diphthong.
But I don’t think anyone has a reason to care, unless they needed to know what a ‘Hapax Legomenon’ was before Shaenon made it into the title of venusian royalty, and knew who Antonio Smith was based on.
Being a language geek can be a heavy burden. Shaenon deals with it in her way, and I deal with it in mine.
I suppose Ira will forget he gave the flask to Sweetheart, but all will be right because he’ll forget he had the flask at all.
I would like them to fix Ira. It’s not very nice, what’s happened to him.
Seconded
Especially since I suspect it’s something that has been _deliberately_ done to him. He seems to remember details about who people are when he is reminded of their names, and as far as I know that’s not how amnesia works: he’s either going to retain semantic memory (simple facts unrelated to specific points in time) or not, it’s not going to come and go with prompting. He also seems to maintain memory of being an employee at Skin Horse, rather than finding himself deeply puzzled about where he is all the time, and his actual age, given that he’s not constantly looking at reflecting surfaces and screaming “Aaargh!!! How did I get so old???”
Ah, Moe, what makes you think Ira is broken? Pretty sure he’s one of the “Shadow Government’s” controls……
Foradain: BA in linguistics here. A diphthong is a vowel that glides from one position to another, as in ‘out’ or ‘boy’. ‘Th’ is an interdental fricative that goes all labial. And there’s no reason she can’t say ‘k’ except that ‘Fanks’ isn’t as funny.
I was going to test this, because I have a hip flask around here somewhere; only when I was rummaging around for it I instead found the whiskey bottle and my last remaining K-cup of Jamaica Blue Mountain coffee. And, hey, there’s still some whipped cream left.
My experiment rendered the word roughly “Aññ-khh.”
Although… who knows what anatomical oddities Sweetheart has to allow her to talk? I recently listened to a Doctor Who audio drama involving dogs who’d had human palates and brain tissue grafted in to make them capable of speech. Happily, it looks like Cap’n Bram went the GM route.
http://www.cbc.ca/quirks/2014/12/13/2014-12-13-1/
Sweetheart should be less able to handle liquor than most humans.
IIRC there were some Skinhorse strips that showed that.
On the other hand, there were strips that showed that she’s capable of drinking a blow-up swimming pool’s worth of tequila without dying, so I think she’s definitely got a higher alcohol tolerance than humans.
I still want to know how Foradain talks through a belt pouch.
Today’s strip led me to the horrifying conclusion that Ira’s service is Sweetheart’s only joy.
Also, while we’re on the topic of phonic enlightenment, and the “Fangs” line really did seem like a joke rather than a possible sound, because if you do hold a flask in your mouth, but can still move your tongue, it comes out more like “Hankh, Iya,” which isn’t half as funny. You cannot make an “F” sound unless you can get the whole flask in your mouth so that you can make your lips meet, which requires really big lips or a really small flask.
Not that I usually walk around holding a flask with my teeth, but in the interest of science some things must be done.
I still want to know how Foradain can talk through a belt pouch.
Is the implication here the Ira’s service is Sweetheart’s only joy?
In the interest of phonic enlightenment, “Fangs, Ira” has to be a joke, for the simple reason that you can’t make an “F” sound as her mouth is portrayed. It would come out more like “Hanks, Iya.” To achieve “Fangs, Ira” you would need to have a lips-to-flask ratio that is much higher, and be able to maneuver your tongue well enough for the “R” sound, a difficult mix as shown.
Not that I usually walk around with a flask in my teeth, making funny noises, but in the interest of science…
Moe, what if Ira is secretly 100% okay?
That’s kinda what was in my mind when I speculated yesterday this is all a Helen/Dave plot.
It might explain why he still has a job.
In fact he may be considerably brighter than he lets on.
He was savvy enough to get a security job in a climate of paranoia, which means the powers that be will insist he hang on well after retirement age.
Oh, if he’s running a long con or something then that’s fine. Even if it’s evil.
Somebody has to jump on this grenade, so here goes . . .
In the words of the great philosopher Homer Simpson: “Alcohol. The cause of, and cure for, all our problems.”
There, we were all thinking this, so have at me.
I’m concerned Ira has had that flask since ’89.
Maybe Sweetheart should not partake of it.
It probably has the same contents as this flask …
http://www.somethingpositive.net/sp09082009.shtml
I remember that without even following the link. Stomach churning.
Wouldn’t wish that on anyone.
Then again I recall a mixed drink we called “Uncle Ferrule’s Rocket Fuel” – 1/3 Each peppermint and spearmint super schnapps (the 100 proof stuff) and the local equivalent of moonshine or grain for the remaining third.
Can’t taste anything after the first mouthful. Trickle it down a log/board into a campfire and it burned purple….
Actually Eddurd – thanks for that reminder – its been a LONG time since I read SP from the beginning.
Ira is glad to serve. Could you say that service is his only joy?
These last few strips are more ominous given the next six years of evidence.
Never trust someone whose idea of dispensing advice is dispensing liquor.