Thursday, April 09, 2009

criticks of buddy don: whut anonnymus sed

ever so often sumbidy cums by to read this here blog that aint one of the 4 or 5 that reads it on a reglar basis. tiz often the case that they wonta attack my use of hillbilly dialeck. let me point out now that i aint trine to say how ever hillbilly talks: whut i rite is as close as i kin cum to the dialeck i herd used by my fambly whenever we wood all gather n tell tales.

thang is, i dont bleeve inny two people use eggzackly the same langwage. everbidy has thar own. tiz true that skools try to flatten the langwage n make us all use it the same eggzack way, but langwage dont wurk thataway: ifn it did, ye wood be able to read beowulf direckly without translayshun.

innywho, here is whut anonnymus had to say:
Not sure how your attempts at the local vernacular are intended as humor.
i wood hope them thats been readin this here blog knows bettern to thank my 'attempts at the local vernacular' are intended as humor. they aint. tiz my means of recordin how them i wuz razed by happend to talk. fer me, tiz the best way to tell stories n i lack to practiss ever chants i git.


smijer said...

Have you ever done any audio? What I hear when I read you probably isn't exactly what you hear when you write... I'd love to hear the 'real thing'.

I'm afraid I've all but lost recollection of the dialects I grew up with, but I love to hear any country dialect, including European ones... they all sound a little bit like home to me.

Anne Johnson said...

"Anonymous" doesn't have a lock on proper grammar him/herself. Writing must be true to the heart and soul, and this is the way you want to do it, BD. To thine own self be true.

Buck said...

The first time I ever read this blog I laughed out loud because it reads almost exactly like me and many of my kin folks talk.

I think it is funny as hell and purty much dead on.

I thank if we followed the blood river Buddy we would find that many of mine are kin to yorn.

Marcia said...

Oh buddy don. I have to get to bed right now, but need to put this down before I forget. Over the past few weeks I've been gazing on my own navel on the idea of of "personal vernacular". At this time, however, I will spare you the configuration of the lint, therein.

Personal vernacular is a powerful thing. It is rich and poor. It connects and separates. It has sound and imagery. It can sustain thought without a word spoken. It is a word spoken, without need of thought.

It is the blankie that comforts and helps us transition to new worlds and experiences.

It is the wallpaper of our soul.