Tag Archives: Dense post is dense

Detroit City FC, Flags, Symbols, and Crests, Soccer

Faust

24 April, 2016 Niamh 1 Comment

Faust: Who holds the devil, let him hold him well, He hardly will be caught a second time.

During the first DCFC season, my friend Zak and I had fashioned some cheap and easy flags. For mine he spray painted a quick trio of fleurs de lys on it in no more than two minutes and called it a day. Meanwhile he found a rouge-colored fabric with golden fleurs de lys sewn into it.

The next year I decided to get a bit more advanced. Zak had dropped out, so I was on my own. I bought a blank white flag, marked it off, and covered it in rouge, gold, and white checkers. It was janky, the colors looked like shit, and the lines between them were blurred and runny.

Over-all it blew. But it made it to quite a few matches. And as I told one supporter who called it shit but was empty handed, “It’s better than yours.”

The next two seasons I was flagless. Generally it was pretty liberating, not having to worry about where the flag was, keeping track of it, or worrying about someone running off with it (like anyone would steal that piece of shit). But I missed having one. For some reason I had it in my head that I needed a flag.

This season all that changes.

I’m back in the business of making a flag. This post is/was not written after the fact. I am saving it as a draft and publishing it upon the completion of the flag, which I have dubbed “Faust”. As I work I will add more to the post so you’ll get a stream of thought. Generally I’ll break writing periods with quotes from or about Faust.

Faust, for the uninformed was a German folklore character who sold his soul to the devil for all sorts of powers.

I am part of that power which eternally wills evil and eternally works good.

Unlike previous flags, no small deal of work went into designing Faust. The basis was the flag of the Kingdom of Württemberg. The banner at the bottom reads Furchtlos und Trew [sic]. I would keep that and fix it to the correct Furchtlos und Treu meaning “Fearless and True/Loyal”, a great line for any hardcore supporter.

I wanted a way to mesh this flag with the flag of Detroit.

My thought was to work on the crest in the middle. Instead of Württemberg and Swabia, my thought would be to create a simplified version of the above: a field of stars, a gold lion on red, fleurs de lys on white, and alternating red and white stripes.

I worked on simplifying the Detroit flag. I removed the needless crest. Replaced the fleurs with something a bit more complicated, then replaced that with something less complicated but still more traditional than the ones on the Detroit flag.

Concerning the lions of England, I knew at first I’d rather a single, better detailed lion than three smaller ones. Plus I wanted it in a more active pose.

So I looked at some more complicated, active lions. And I mean, really, that one has a sword! So the sword won.

The blue field of stars should’ve been simple. The Detroit flag has 13 for 13 states, but their pattern is kind of lame. I chose to replace them with something based off the flag of the United States when Michigan was added to the Union.

Lastly I flipped red to the top so the red banner would be on the black half of the flag. So here is the first main version of the Faust:

Some other changes would be needed. Originally I liked the black lion and the gold stag – it made a good reference to Michigan, but it was a bit complicated and the black wouldn’t show up well on the black and red banner.

First I considered a skeletal crow and a a skeleton as supporters.

But with zero artistic ability I switched to the Tudor dragon which is rouge and gold paired with a golden lion.

The dragon, however, is a really cool image. So the decision was made to double down on the dragons.

I worked on simplifying the golden shield around the crest, knowing that if time and paint permitted I could always add the the leaves and texture back in. Another minor detail I wanted to fix was the super tall helmet on top made especially tall with an extra fleur de lys on top.

The idea came to combine the fleur with the crown and find a simpler helmet to go on top.

So the crown of France will have to do.

The final design for Faust:

(Dragons further flattened for painting)

God help us — for art is long, and life so short.

Eventually I had to get working. It wasn’t long before the itch got the best of me and Brigid and I ran out to two Jo Ann Fabrics to get enough polycotton and gold trim to put this together. Brigid came for the Japanese food.

I divided the build into four phases:

Phase 1 – Combining the halves

Phase 2 – Painting

Phase 3 – Trimming

Phase 4 – Basing

Phase 2 is far and away the longest, or at least most tedious step, itself having a main coloring phase and a second detailing phase. So here we go. First I sealed off a spare bedroom in our house and put down a thick painter’s canvas. Next I laid out the red half, then marked an inch deep onto it to overlap the black half. The I laid out the black half and pinned them at the end.

Over two days I glued the two halves together.

It wasn’t perfect but I managed to not completely cock it up. After gluing I wanted to stitch it just to be careful that there wouldn’t be a completely failure if it got caught in the rain.

It wasn’t a terribly good stitching job, and it caused quite a bit of bleeding from the fact that I didn’t do a terribly good stitching job. Otherwise it was a a basic backstitch job.

Stitching took three nights (doing a little bit at a time so not to completely start to loathe the project), after which I let it sit for a few nights until I had time to get paints.

After I did get paints I got back to work pretty quick:

Surprisingly, all of this happened without a major fuck-up, which is some sort of record for me. Hence I wasn’t surprised when:

A gentle reminder to would-be painters, all yellow paint is neon green until proven otherwise. Luckily I was able to soak most of it up with a paper towel and then paint directly over it with zero wait. Not sure how the back looks as of writing but the back is the least of my worries.

I lost a shade of gold, but in the end… I lost the need to constantly swap colors, so I’ll call it a win.

Just take a look at our patrons, and you’ll know
Some don’t appreciate us, others never will.

The next big step was getting some chalk and chalking out the helm, the ribbon, and eventually the dragons. I initially wanted to save the details for later, but I broke down in time and just started scatterbraining across the 8×8 canvas.

Eventually some equipment would need to be replaced. Brushes break, cups dirty, but my poor old printer was just getting too old. Plus it was like $50 for new ink cartridges so for $100 on Amazon Prime I got a new ink with a free printer thrown in. Oldest joke in the book, but work with me here.

This one has wifi. No more wife emailing print-outs to me.

Usually one paints a tifo by first projecting the image onto a wall, hanging the fabric, tracing the image, and then painting it on. Colors are limited and even the small details are huge. Here, no luck. Projectors are expensive and the small details require getting up close and personal, often free-handing the actual lines. For the most part I use tracing, which in turn means lots of printing, cutting, and taping.

Then once the stencil is made, it is traced out. One of the reasons I made everything as symmetrical is that I can use the stencils “twice” – once on each side.

Plain, white blackboard chalk is surprisingly hard to find. I’ve checked at multiple places multiple times over the year and have never actually found white chalk, always just an empty hook next to the colored blackboard chalk no one wants because it stains everything.

First coat of the red banner, right before getting scatterbrained.

Second coat of gold on the ring, first on the helmet. Genius Kendall. Also, by this point the brush death toll started. A 1″ brush Brigid grabbed so I wouldn’t have to dedicate a single night to a single color died about halfway ’round the ring.

So while the gold dried I decided to work on small details instead of cleaning my remaining 1″ brush twice.

At this point I also realized that my old printer had slightly enlarged certain print outs. So my fleurs de lys were too big to fit two abreast.

So they got staggered in a weird pattern. Had I know earlier I would have aligned two to the right and one center and to the left. But fuck it. Perfection was never the goal. So I finished the third fleur and then went to wash my brushes…. and promptly killed my good 1″ brush by rinsing it under too-hot water, causing all the bristles to loosen and fall out.

For fuck’s sake, Kendall.

All theory is gray, my friend. But forever green is the tree of life.

Bought new brushes today. Grabbed two and didn’t grab cheapos. The first order of business was going to be the crest I was hoping to finish it first so I wouldn’t be sitting on the supporters to get at it later. This would include the helmet too and then eventually the motto. The first day back to work was a red day.

Traced out the lines.

Looks good.

And promptly went about adding a second coat to the banner.

With the red done, it was time to move onto the first of the arty parts of the project – the Lion in the red field. The Detroit flag uses a stylized version of the English coat of arms – three Lions. I wanted to simplify this, but also add a Detroit flair. The choice of a Lion holding a sword was a simple one.

Worked upstairs on this one.

Freeeeeee!

It fits! Mostly because I specifically shrank it.

A quick trace later.

And the gold paint added.

And before anyone asks what’s happening to all the brush cleaner, don’t worry, I’m no litterbug.

That’s right. Kitty litter. It’ll go into the trash, not the best but beats down the drain because I’d never do that…. ever… really.

I waited to finish the Lion’s sword, teeth, and claws until I was getting the white paint out, basically when I did the stars.

Going with an inverse stencil to keep the spacing.

FUCK.

Squished that second star in. Still. Fuck. Anyway, shitty picture – but that is the nearly finished crest. Just needed some black outlining and that needed a a bit of bravery because we were getting into freehand territory.

Practiced outlining with the dark red for the banner. It doesn’t look good up close but fuck it. Paint was not sticking well.

This bit I could free hand, or use basic existing stencils like a ruler or a spool. However eventually I’d have to at least trace the main guidelines.

So I cut apart the existing stencil.

Boom! Looks good considering I’m shit at art.

More free handing. Super, super proud of the calligraphy I was able to do. Probably wouldn’t be able to do it again. But I got it when it counted.

The traced crest and the motto. Furchtlos und Treu for sure. But with that there were two things to go… two things I had been postponing – the highly intricate crown… and the two massive dragons.

That which issues from the heart alone,
Will bend the hearts of others to your own.

So, that crown… kinda royalist… don’t you think? Maybe you don’t. Maybe you don’t care about things like that. But I do. It was grating on me for a while. Not only was it intricate and hard to paint, but it also symbolized something I don’t support – monarchism. If only there was some sort of hat that represented freedom and democracy… Wait! There is!

It’s called a Phrygian cap and is a symbol of revolution. It appears in a lot of French Revolutionary scenes as well as the coat of arms of Argentina. It’s also on the seal of the US Senate.

That was easy. 😉

Now those fucking dragons.

It’s pretty big.

Finished. It was something like 13 or 14 sheets of paper all told. I don’t have the final count any more. It was a lot though, but it is for a good cause.

Positioning. Ignore the missing phrygian cap.

Traced.

White details.

Gold details.

Starting the red.

More red.

Added black details and more red. Still a lot to go… plus… another fucking dragon? Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.

Whatever is the lot of humankind
I want to taste within my deepest self.

Working down in the basement was hell on my fingers, decided the best thing to do was get a space heater and let that baby wash over me. I also started bringing down a tablet to listen to podcasts and things to keep my brain occupied. After this I noticed shifts went from an hour or two to six hours pretty quick.

An nearly complete dragon.

One down, one to go.

Got the sleeve glued, but not stitched. In this time frame I was thinking about the colors of the dragons. I was thinking that a lot of the flag was very samey looking. After talking to Brigid, I decided to switch the second dragon up. White -> Gold, Gold -> Red, Red-> White.

This would give me some more variety and could also reflect the Polish roots of Hamtramck and have the dragons wearing the traditional kit colors of DCFC – Rouge (home) and White (away).

I got the sleeve and a massive chunk of the white dragon (everything seen above) done in a single shift. I also named the dragons – Danny on the left, Dave on the right.

I am not omniscient, but I know a lot.

I’m headed into the final stretch at this point. Finish the white dragon and then getting trim and re-enforcement on before the 16th of April was the goal. I put zero work in over the week, but was dedicated on getting it finished on the weekend.

On Saturday we did our normal routine of Bob Evans followed by grocery shopping. Then. Work.

It had to be done in time.

In case anyone (no one) was wondering, I used the tape roll to keep my paint cup from getting knocked over. Saved me quite a few times.

Painting complete.

Now I had to move onto the trimming and the re-enforcements.

It’ll never look this good again.

Around this time I was horrified to discover that the sleeve around the pole had two pinch points and thus it was impossible to remove the pole from the sleeve. Which means I needed to cut it out.

Luckily I had some fabric lying around from uni when we tried to make bags for cornhole. I was planning on using this for the grommets, but I had plenty so it would also be used to expand the sleeve.

First pinch at the bottom.

Second pinch about a quarter the way up.

Little extra room.

I laid out patches for the grommets. This would add a few extra layers of canvas so they wouldn’t pull out easily. The plan was that the grommets would be used as a secondary re-enforcement to the sleeve on particularly windy days.

Pretty in pink.

If my aim was off it was because getting over the sleeve was a pain in the ass.

I have to admit cleaning the grommet pliers was pretty awesome.

All nice and set.

At this point I undid the ties holding the fringe together and wasn’t happy with the corners. (Un)Luckily I had mismeasured along the top and had to run to JoAnns for more fringe, so I had a foot to play with. I cut some tiny sections out and glued them diagonally across the corners. This really filled it out well.

The last steps were cleaning. I had to get all the chalk off and all the gold lint from the fringe as well, also cat hair, human hair, and just general junk.

And so ends my project!

Brigid suggested we give Faust some air upstairs in our great room.

Faust stands proud.

Thanks to everyone who helped me along the way when I had questions or just needed a little encouragement. This project had a lot of twists and turns and a few complications, but in the end everything for my club.

Up The Fucking City!

Draft to Reality:

Only took two months.

Opinion

Anarcho-Linguist

8 October, 2015 Niamh

I have a soft spot for dialects and minority languages, languages that might be on the brink of forever falling out of us. Not sure what drives me to this, why I feel a kinship of sorts with people I’ve never met and who’d probably not like me much if we did because I’d be asking them stupid questions about their language.

Recently I’ve seen an increase in posts about “good grammar”. What makes writing effective and there seems to recently be a huge focus on minute details and spelling, as if there is a standardized form of English, which there is not, actually. There isn’t a standard dialect of English written or spoken.

And that’s a cool thing.

When you read about France French being “correct” and Quebec French being “wrong” it comes from this standardization. France controls French and therefore is able to classify the Quebecois as essentially outside the Francophonie.

But we can’t do that in English… usually. There are exceptions to this, one of which I actually plan to share some thoughts on (knowingly as a well-off white boy).

I saw a post the other day that said “I don’t judge people on their age, nationality, or race… I judge them on their grammar.”

News flash… that means you judge people on their age, race, nationality, region, and class.

When we make fun of southerners for their dialect, we are making fun of them for being the other and oftentimes for being uneducated. We are usually making fun of them for being poor. Or for being “belles” who are haughty and above us, shallow or back-stabbing. How many times after the Kim Davis bullshit did you see a comic with her speaking in a stereotypical southern dialect? How many? Because I can nearly guarantee 100% of the time it was to make her seem simple and uneducated. Beneath us.

Where we are born, what language we learn first, and the dialects that we pick up around us govern to a large degree how we speak English. It could take years to pick up Scots or Ulster-Scots. I don’t use the word “treelawn” because I chose to. I don’t end sentences with prepositions because I want to. And I certainly don’t pronounce “water” as “wader” like every other American because it sounds prettier.

I speak the dialect of English I grew up with.

And here’s where the problem begins to arise: We don’t chose our dialects, but we are judged by them. And no dialect of English is judge more than AAVE (African American Vernacular English), sometimes poorly referred to as “Ebonics”, a word which will ne’er again appear in this post.

The lack of understanding of AAVE, what it is, how it works, and exactly how prevalent and self-consistent it is leads to people making very rash, very harsh judgement on its speaker for nothing but their language. All of this is very touchy, and honestly it is often impossible to have this discussion and walk away with any friends left.

AAVE is a self-consistent dialect/creole/language prevalent in the African-American community. It is the result of many pressures ranging from economic, racial, to historical. It is mutually intelligible with English but sits on a fence with dialects like Scots on whether or not it is a language and calling it a language has repercussions to it. Calling it a language might legitimize it. Calling it a language would shed light on the difficulty that kids growing up speaking exclusively AAVE have transitioning to a setting where only AmE is acceptable.

But it also would act to further isolate its speakers from work and opportunity. The way I see it is this: the second we call AAVE a language hoping to achieve progress someone will use it as an excuse not to hire someone based off language aptitude but deep down it is because of race. The second AAVE becomes a minority language things change and it isn’t predictable.

We’ve long equated adherence to a non-existent set of rules to education and mobility. Whether consciously or subconsciously the effects are real and it impacts people day in and day out.

Watch a video of a British comedian making fun of an American accent. Now imagine the the punch line was, “So that’s why I didn’t hire him.”

Good thing you learned the right dialect, I hope.

Anyway, I had a point but in writing this I started to get pissed. So I’ll end it there. Stop judging people on their grammar. It makes you a twat.

Writing

On Moons, Barycenters, and What you Put into your Work

5 May, 2015 Niamh

Been writing a lot recent.

Not here, though, mostly in my books, which I am still trying to – you know – get published. I’ve been quiet because I have Sun-King out with both an agent and an editor and have quietly had my fingers crossed. I also lost my copy-editor, but that’s okay because my last few first readers are wrapping up (hopefully).

With the new prologue and the new chapter one, people’s reactions have greatly improved – and in rewriting it so has my skill (I think). It took a very rude awakening but I thank those deconstructive readers very much for really not holding back and giving it to me straight. It is what I needed and it worked. Thanks gentlemen who probably avoid this site like the plague.

Recently I’ve gone from one fantasy writing sin (too much conlanging) to the other (too much thinking and science). I’ve mentioned on reddit that I’ve always enjoyed small consistencies. To me a little nod to physics or reality is like looking at the fine details of a painting or the tiny, intricate shapes of a statue. It can really show a writer’s love or perhaps a second passion.

Last year I talked about moons. Namely I talked about moons in my books, the three that orbit the world my stories take place in. They go by many names in different languages and they are storied and worshiped. But they are also consistent.

The three moons in my world orbit in a 1:2:4 resonance, in the same positions as the inner-most Galilean moons (Io, Europa, Ganymede). But unlike the Jovian moons they are grey and dusty like our own moon.

It was important to me that the moons orbit correctly, that I know what phases they are in, how big they look in the sky, and how quickly they move. These facts would dictate to the writer what a character can and cannot be seeing. For example new moons rarely follow full moons. We also rarely think about how big the moon really is and how it grows and shrinks, and though I didn’t go as far as to make more advanced libation cycles or eclipse cycles.

But I did use some simplified equations to figure out how far apart they are, how big they appear, when they appear, cataloging all this gave me a sense of being an astronomer in this world. How do I figure out these things? Where does the planet fit? Like we often think about the moon orbiting the Earth, but it isn’t so simple.

The Earth/Moon system orbit a barycenter or a center of mass. That center of mass is inside the Earth but it isn’t the center of the Earth – it is actually more than 4,600 km from the center, about 73% of the Earth’s radius. It is this point that traces the orbit around the Sun and it means that Earth doesn’t just rotate, it rocks back and forth as it “orbits” the barycenter. If this point was above the Earth’s surface, by most definitions the Moon wouldn’t be a satellite anymore, it would be a planet in a binary planet system. (There are other definitions that might already consider the Moon a planet rather than a simple satellite.)

This started going down a path that lead to at least one scene I really like and I hope other people enjoy- a scene that is unique to this system. And it’s as accurate as I am willing to get.

The system in Sun-King (and that series as a whole) has some fun tidbits hidden in it, but by far my favorite is the work put into the moons. I’d love to be able to sit on my deck and watch as two moons reach their zenith together, or seeing the nearest rise alone in its full glory.

On a tangent thought – what if the Earth/Moon system were both tidally locked to the other? That is to say, what if one face of the Earth always pointed the Moon? What happens when people from the moonless side go to the mooned side? Could you imagine? What if the European explorers reached the Americas and there was this big, extra light in the sky?

Their little heads would have exploded.

Funny to think about.

Writing

minçɪn nedəwaðʌl, dati?

28 March, 2015 Niamh

Maidin mhaith.

Spent last night and a bit this morning working on conlanging as a way to distract myself from writing.

The topic that caught my interest and ended up generating quite a bit of vocabulary and vocab was asking questions. This was semi-introduced last time which even started with a question: ɸat æs, de?

In it we learned about dialect and some more complicated things like word order and the question particle. In English we often learn the six question words: who, what, where, when, why, how. There are more. A full list would look like: who, what, where, when, why, how, which, whose, whence, whither, whether.

Some of those are still familiar to us: Which song did you play? Whose album is this?

Some are not: Whence did he come? (Where did he come from?) Whither did he go? (Where did he go to?) Whether chose you? (Which of these two would you choose?)

They probably ring a bell in the way back of your brain, probably from reading some old or poetic piece. Hadysh retains all of them and adds two more. These particles are:

dɔma (which)
dæxɪmə (whose)
dæx (who)
dɪn (what)
demʃ (where)
didæʃ (whence)
dɑneʃ (whither)
dib (when)
dʊçɸ (why)
dʌg (whether)
de (how)
dati (do – ?) Implies a yes/no question
dæf (?) Converts a statement into a generic question

As always I have examples and dialect stuff!

Do you have the time? – Single, Formal “you”

[miaçi mʌɹ̝̠̊ʌ, dati]

/miɛçi mʌɹʌ, dɛti/ – Rozenn

/miaçi məɹ̝̠̊ə, dati/ – Einar

This statement uses [dati] but does not imply simple yes/no. The speaker still wishes to know what time it is. It does imply that they want a quick answer. So the reply should be “Half past six” not “Six thirty seven.”

You can switch to requesting an “accurate” answer by making it a generic question with the [dæf] particle.

Where did my dog go to?

[hɹ̝̠̊enəga jamə ɸɔlm, dɑneʃ]

/ɹ̝̠̊enəga jamə ɸɔlm, dɑneʃ/ – Standard formation

/hɹɪnəkɛ jɛmə ɸɔlm, dɔnɪʃ/ – Rozenn

/ɹ̝̠̊enəga jamə fɔlm, dɑneʃ/ – Einar

We’ve been over this strange construction in the first conlang post. The past tense uses [h-] at the beginning of a verb, but the sound cluster [hɹ̝̠̊] is really just a breathy /ɹ̝̠̊/.

But the sound ɹ̝̠̊ doesn’t exist in the Sylian (Rozenn’s) dialect, so the past tense conjugation is more clear.

When were we planning on meeting up? – Inclusive “we”

[θahən kənɔx, dib] (Literally: When do we plan to meet?)

/θɛhən çənɔx, dib/ – Rozenn

/θahən kənɔç, dib/ – Einar

This is the first inclusion of the infinitive of a verb, this is actually a unique conjugation just like future, past, and habitual. The base form of the verb “to meet” is [nɔx]. The infinitive adds [k-].

The main verb “to plan” is not in the future tense, it starts with [θ] because it is made of the future tense of “to think” but here is present tense. The future of “to plan” is [θɪθahə]. Also strangely the conjugation should be [θahəa], but when a verb ends in a vowel and the conjugation starts with a vowel ([-a] for inclusive we) the vowel of the conjugation becomes [n].

Have you seen Rozenn’s sword? – Plural, Informal “you”

[hjɹæçʌlnaçɪn çeɹiənɪm ɪlpæθ, dæf]

/hjæçʌlnaçɪn çeɹiənɪm ɪlpæθ, dæf/ – Standard formation

/hjaçəlnaçen çeɹiənem elpaθ, daf/ – Einar

The verb “to see” is [ɹæçʌln], the past tense [h-] adds the [j] between the [h] and [ɹ], but the [ɹ] is usually just dropped.

Here we also have the genitive marker [-(n)ɪm] which also softens the word it attaches to, but [çeɹiə] (Rozenn’s name) ends with a vowel.

Does he know how to swim? – Single, Informal “he”

[bɑθæpəga e kəpæg de, dati]

/bɔθɛpəkɛ ɪ çəpɛk’d, dɛti/ – Rozenn

/bɑθapəga e kəpag de, dati/ – Einar

The only thing to note here is that “how to swim” becomes “to swim how” or [kəpæg de].

Whether you a glass of whiskey or a pint of beer? – Sing, Infrm “you”

[æs nʊdlpik ʌt pɔʃ zæ nedan ʌt ætwəɹ, dʌg]

/ɛs nʊdlpik ʌt pɔʃ zɛ nɪdɛn ʌt ɛtwə, dək/ – Rozenn

/as nədlpik ət pɔʃ za nedan ət atvəɹ, dəg/ – Einar

Like in English, there is no verb in this sentence. Oftentimes you can even remove the pronoun and just ask.

May I have a cup of tea, instead?

[tætl nʊdlpik ʌt hɪl vivɪft kəmi, dæf]

/tɛtl nʊdlpik ʌt hɪl fifɪft çəmi, dɛf/ – Rozenn

/tatl nədlpik ət hel viveft kəmi, daf/ – Einar

Here we have the introduction of modal verbs! Germanic languages use modals quite a bit and I have a fondness for them. There are at least seven in Hadysh (English has seven-ish as well, plus a dead one and a handful of demi-modals). Modals conjugate normally and the verb they are changing takes the infinitive form and moves to the end of the clause.

Anyone familiar with German will recognize this. Kannst du Deutsch (sprechen)? Können is the modal. Sprechen is the verb. “Can you speak German?”

Like when asking about time, the [dati]/[dæf] distinction is important. [dæf] implies that you want a cup of tea. [dati] is asking if you have permission to have a cup of tea.

Are you tired? – Plural, Informal “you”

[ɸat æs hwɑnel]

/ɸɛt ɛs ʍɔnɪl/ – Rozenn

/fat as hɁwɑnel/ – Einar

The Waldish and Nyrnish (Einar’s) dialects mutate [ʍ] to /h/ so to imply the particle correctly they divide the [h] and [w] with a glottal stop. In Sylian these are just slurred back to /ʍ/.

Yes

[ɸat ɪ] (Literally: It is)

/ɸɛti/ – Rozenn

/faɁi/ – Einar

Despite being a full sentence (similar to Irish), over time this has contracted down to a single word (similar to English).

[ɸat ɪ ʊl] or [ɸat ɪ’l] (Literally: It is not)

/ɸɛɁl/ – Rozenn

/fatl/ – Einar

Like above this is a full sentence, but has been contracted down to a single word.

Do you have a question? – Plural, Formal “you”

[minçɪn nedəwaðʌl, dati] or [minçɪn nedəwaðʌl, dæf]

/minçɪn nɪdəwaðʌl, dɛti/ or /minçɪn nɪdəwaðʌl, dɛf/ – Rozenn

/minçen nedəvaðəl, dati/ or /minçen nedəvaðəl, daf/ – Einar

Don’t forget the [dati]/[dæf] distinction.

Sláinte, everyone!

Detroit, Detroit City FC, Opinion, Soccer

Plus Ultra – A Day in the Life of and a Defense of the Ultra in America

15 March, 2015 Niamh

We woke up early today.

Around seven.

After some bitching and moaning and wistful looks at the clock hoping we had been lied to, we dragged ourselves out of bed. First me, then Brigid but only after I had sicced the cat on her.

I fed the cat, we dug out blankets and flags and kilts and extra layers to stay warm in the 30-ish degree weather on a cloudy Detroit morning. We filled the car, piled in, got out to grab a forgotten phone, then headed to the gas station. Brigid grabbed donuts, I grabbed cash from an ATM then stopped to fill up the car.

Then, around 8:00, we hit 96 East into Detroit – following a path we both knew well past Motor City Casino and Cass Tech into Corktown, which proudly calls itself the “Oldest Neighborhood in Detroit.”

It was about a quarter ’til 9:00 when we finally pulled into the parking lot behind the local IBEW headquarters. It would be a little longer before the coffee and liquor would start flowing. Until then we had donuts and Mama Cass’ homemade breakfast puffs (16,000 calories guaranteed) to tide us over.

It would be many hours before any real reason to be there made itself known as we drunkenly and hoarsely made our way to the parade line.

None of this should come off as particularly exciting, nor is it meant to. The life of an Ultra is the life of many: a terrible job, good friends, one thing on the weekend that keeps you going. The poker player might think about cards, the musician about the next track, the gamer about the next level, the Ultra thinks about the next game. The next stick of smoke. The next tifo or the next two-stick.

What drags a man out of a warm bed at seven in the morning on a cold, cloudy Sunday in Detroit, Michigan?

Friends? Aye.

Family? Aye.

Booze? Aye.

Sports? Aye.

A chance to let loose? Aye.

What about all of those? What if friends, family, booze, sports, and a chance to tap into that primal part of your brain all came in one shot?

That’s why an Ultra gets up.

That’s why an Ultra paints tifos.

That’s why an Ultra gets tattoos, and buys banners, and stands for ninety minutes, and screams and sings until all wind has left their body.

Then they go home and dream sulfury dreams of when they get to do it all over again. It never ends, the cycle of working on the next game and living the previous. Before they know it the season is over and it is all pining for the next time they can get into the stands and do it all over again.

Before we go much further, I’m going to cover my tracks and say “yes, this article will inevitably offend some people.” My last Fans v Supporters v Ultras page constantly either gets rave reviews or people trying to piss on it because they are a special flower that doesn’t… blah blah blah.

Got it.

We’re all human. Definitions don’t fit people well because we can constantly redefine what makes us who we are. So take this all with a grain of salt. Think of this as representing that 70 to 80% of people who are encapsulated by a definition and therefore is painted with broad strokes.

In the end, don’t get offended because this is a blag written by a nobody. Or, actually, get offended. Give me more traffic.

I’ve always thought that the motto of the Ultra should be Plus Ultra, Latin for “further beyond.” That’s what an Ultra is – more and beyond. Whatever is “normal” for a fan should be too little for an Ultra. And I’m not knocking average supporters or fans. Trust me, the crazier they get the better. But an Ultra should be further beyond. They should be further beyond paper signs and crayons. They should be further beyond “the wave”. They should be further beyond shouting “de-fense clap clap de-fense clap clap“.

But the word “Ultras” comes with baggage. And it comes with detractors, especially here in the United States. It is important for the budding Ultra to know when to stand their ground and when to understand the fears and apprehensions of the average supporter. When the Ultra is willing to stand their ground, but make their message known, the state of supporter culture in the United States will improve. When the average fan understands that their Ultras are there for them, there for the team, there to make a great game something that goes into the history books.

But too often I feel supporters and Ultras are at odds and it is important to make sure everyone on a side marches to the same drum, even if some people march a little slower.

First, and this is a big one for us Ultras. Being an Ultra carries baggage in the United States. Baggage of hooliganism, baggage of discrimination, racism, and other isms that we might have anything to do with. There are going to be Ultras that we disagree with. Whether we disagree on which team we root for (the minimum, I guess), whether it is okay to light flares off in the stadium, or as far as the bigger issues like if it is okay that blacks and whites support together or if beating up opposing fans is okay.

When we try to shove the dirty, unwelcome, truth to the side we don’t seem above it, we seem blind to it. It is important to tackle those issues head on. Make bold statements. Don’t just say “well, we wrote some rules down and it is up to the different groups to enforce that.”

No.

No, that is not okay.

If you have Ultras pushing people out of a subway train for their race, kick them out. If you have Ultras molesting women, kick them out. If you have Ultras starting fights, kick them out. Make it known that on no terms is violence, homophobia, racism, or sexism acceptable. Stamp it out.

Ultras can make a political point, but the best political points to be made are those of acceptance of our players and our fellow fans.

But when someone says “Well, I saw some Ultras in Randopia and they were being racists” the right answer isn’t some mumbling and then a “no true Scotsman” bullshit. The right answer is, “Yeah – that happens, and they are cunts. But here in America we can be above that. Our Ultras work hard to remove and find ways to deal with the problem safely and quickly.”

And the key word is “can” it is also “should.” In America we don’t have 150 years of history in our teams, which can be a bit humiliating. But it also means that racism and divisive politics are not okay. We can’t sit and hide behind “well, we’ve been racist for 150 years so give us a break” (as if that is any fucking excuse). We have a chance to elevate the throne of Ultra further beyond bullshit petty politics into a powerful force for bettering our communities and everyone’s enjoyment of sports.

But I also want to respond to some criticisms and concerns that I’ve heard from self-proclaimed “non-Ultras”.

I have a disability or issue that prevents me from doing X, Y, or Z and ergo cannot be an Ultra.

This is bullshit, if you care so much that you are digging up legitimate excuses to why you cannot Ultra, you are probably an Ultra. I think of it this way: Ultras are there for their fellow Ultras. Ultras know their own like family. Family understands and doesn’t need or even ask for excuses for why you miss activities or perhaps don’t partake in others.

You’re a devout Christian? You don’t drink? A fellow Ultra knows that. They don’t care.

You’re recovering from surgery and can’t dance? A fellow Ultra knows that. They don’t care.

You have a disease that forces you out of the stands to a place where getting in and out is more convenient? Your family doesn’t care. The only people who care aren’t worth being called your family.

I sat in the Ultras’ section and was bothered a lot because I didn’t dance/sing/complained about smoke.

This is a two-way misunderstanding and both sides have very legitimate reasons to complain. So I’m going to try to tackle the obviously side (the non-Ultra) quickly and then move into the Ultra’s perspective of the issue.

Smoke/dancing/singing are not normal in the United States. It is not surprising when someone gets tickets at the last minute and ends up in the Ultra section without understanding what that means. It is up to front offices and ticket vendors to make sure that customers are aware of what is involved in getting a ticket to the supporters’ section.

Supporters’ sections might be standing-only and might be cheaper on a seat map, that can be attractive to someone just looking for a quick thing to do. If someone doesn’t want to sing or dance, leave them alone.

BUT. Big but (-s and I cannot lie) here. Ultras are in the right for being pissed. Remember there is one section in the entire stadium where we can sing and dance and light off smoke for 90 minutes a game. One section. That’s it. Pull out a flag in the main stands, say good-bye to three nights of hard work. Light off a smoke bomb in the nose bleeds? Say hello to a domestic terrorism charge.

We get that one little area and when we see people sitting on their phones no singing and dancing we don’t see a stick in the mud (even though you are one) we see one Ultra over in the family friendly section NOT having a good time.

You can sit quietly anywhere, we can only party in this one section. Please be understanding when we want you to make the most out of it.

The flags, smoke, and singing detract from the game. You should be there to watch the game.

Okay? We do watch the game. When we do specific chants for corners, cards, tackles, players, and scores that isn’t because of a really good streak of random chance. We know to do those things because we watch the game.

Obviously you aren’t because you’re watching us having way more fun than you.

This is going to become even more subjective than the rest of this already is – but we don’t think what we do detracts from the game. We think sitting around politely clapping detracts from the game. Ultras work with front offices as much as we can to come to mutually beneficial agreements on where we can set up shop, what is and isn’t acceptable, and for the most part it works out really well.

Notice on any major team’s website the shots of the crowd rarely are of the people sitting down talking about the weekend with their spouse while their kids are mildly entertained by the game.

Ultras provide a lot of atmosphere to the crowd and we are very much helped by the legions of supporters who do everything they can to help disseminate this out into the other parts of the stadium. The smoke and the noise contributes to the home field advantage. It gives our team a boost and the other team a weight to carry. Any player will tell you that they love coming onto a field with Ultras – people singing their heart and soul out for ninety minutes. It gives them someone to work for, someone to impress, and in return Ultras give them love and respect. We put them on two-sticks, sing chants about them, and are the first to defend them when the refs won’t.

I don’t like that Ultras are “ultra” and I’m “just” a fan. Why am I expected to contribute?

You aren’t expected to contribute, but you need to understand that that’s why an Ultra is “ultra” and you’re just a fan. We are all on the same side, we all want to see our team win, and we both probably want to see it just as badly. But an Ultra goes further beyond. For us it isn’t enough to just show up, we want to make sure our support is heard and felt throughout the stadium.

It is okay that you don’t want to participate to that level and I’m sure the front office appreciates you coming in.

But this idea that your presence is equal to our weeks of hard work and planning is bullshit. And we’ll tell you it’s bullshit. What made you think this wasn’t the case? Since when was just showing up to the test the same as acing it?

I don’t like being defined by other people.

Okay, this is another perfectly acceptable reaction. Not everyone enjoys every label that is applied to them, especially when they aren’t choosing to have that labeled applied to them.

Please trust me when I say I understand and that I can commiserate with you on this.

But it is important that people are labeling you every second of everyday. Humans like to do that, it is just sort of an innate part of who and what we are as social, tribal animals.

I’m not labeling you as an Ultra out of anything other than togetherness. I define myself as an Ultra so please don’t be offended if I define you as an Ultra. If I don’t define you as an Ultra and you want to be defined as an Ultra, that’s okay too. I’m not a sole expert on Ultra-ness.

Some other group uses “Ultras” in their name and we…

Shut up. Just. Shut up.

Who fucking cares? Really? An I suppose if there was a rival group called “The Fans of Windy City” you’d be shitting all over yourself to not be called a fan?

Words mean things and we are all free to use them. If a group uses a word that has is relevant to what they are talking about, then they get to use it. But so can you. Because words are not a limited resource. (Looks at current word count – trust me, I know).

Obviously there is much to the life of an Ultra, just as there is much to the life of anyone willing to take themselves further beyond what any sane or normal person would do.

I cannot cover every fractal fold of what makes any two groups or even individuals similar and dissimilar. I have neither the time nor the patience to do it.

So I hope this has been an interesting and enlightening read for you, as there will be plenty more soccer to come in the future. But there is where I’ll end for today.

Sláinte, bitches.

Writing

ɹ̝̠̊ɔməkal

16 February, 2015 Niamh 1 Comment

So I’ve been conlanging again instead of writing. I have some plot ideas, but I haven’t really worked them out and I’m not 100% happy with the last chapter end. So I’m doing some thinking away from just words and just in the world at large.

I am much slower coming up with new stuff then I am editing and reapproving old pieces of text.

So one of the things I do to get into the heads of my characters is try to think and talk like they do. Since this is a second world (that is, one that I’ve entirely made up) they don’t speak English, they speak in their own language – Hadysh (in English) or “ɹ̝̠̊ɔməkal” in their own language.

To help with that mouthful it would be like (HRAW-muh-kahl) and one would speak “vit ɹ̝̠̊ɔməkal” or “vi ʌt ɹ̝̠̊ɔməkal” (“in Hadysh”). I should point out, “vit” and “ʌt” cause softening to the following word, but the phoneme “ɹ̝̠̊” cannot be softened. For example if you wanted to say “in language” as in the medium you are using is language you’d say: “vit çalag” from “vit” (by means of) and “kalag” (language). “Vit” itself is a contraction of “vi” and “ʌt” essentially meaning “in the composition of” and the “kal” at the end of “ɹ̝̠̊ɔməkal” is a shortened form of “kalag.”

So here are some sentences that I’ve worked on. Remember that all of this is in “perfect” speech. Someone speaking this would be considered robotic or speaking the language well, but lacking any regional dialect or native slurring/morphing of specific sounds.

We walk to the lake in the forest.

ʃɔnəma ɪ m^jθiɹd vi mɑgət.

SHAW-num-mah ih m^yih-THEERD vee MA-gut

Tomorrow we’re going to hunt in a forest.

xwændalə θ^ɪbʊfað vi nɑgət

CH^†WAHN-dahl-uh th^ih-BUHF-ahth vee NA-gut (^† like in “Loch Ness”)

Certain speakers depending on dialect would change these to more regional.

One aspect compared to English is the compression of the future tense “are going to hunt” to just “hunt” except in the future-tense.

This also highlights the difference between the inclusive and exclusive we. In the first sentence it is inclusive (meaning speaker and listener). The second is exclusive (meaning speaker and not listener). In English we use context, but it can lead to confusion. For example, “We are headed to the lake!” Inclusively I could be telling everyone in the car where I am driving them. Exclusively I could be telling a friend my plans for a date with Brigid (which he is not a part of).

I’ve also worked a bit on more of the mutations, adding and subtracting. The newest addition is the “strange” mutations, which occur in creating compound words. So that adds the third – and likely last – tier of mutations (softening, hardening, and strange).

There is only one good example so far, those who have had a chance to read my drafts so far will understand a bit more context but here is how one little bit works.

The word “to hunt” is “bʊf” and to make it a doer of the verb (-er in English) it’d become “bʊvəd” after you apply the hardening of “f” to “v”.

A specific group of people in my story are the hunterfolk, the word for “folk” or “people” is “tsiað.”

Generally word order in descriptions is backwards of English, so “hunterfolk” would be “folkhunter” so “tsiaðbʊvəd.”

But both “ð” and “b” are voiced and it can be sort of a pain to try to pronounce them both without also inserting a stop. So something has to give. Strange mutation dictates that “voiced+voiced” yields “voiced+m” so it becomes “tsiaðmʊfəd.”

It can get more complicated like how “tsiað” is the plural of “person” (so literally “persons” or “people”) but you cannot pluralize “tsiaðmʊfəd” because it is a collective noun.

So the tsiaðmʊvəd of ædʌɹɔməç are ɹ̝̠̊ɔməçi and speak ɹ̝̠̊ɔməkal among the tsiaðɹ̝̠̊ɔməç.

Simple, right? Sláinte, everyone.

N H Kendall

Tag Archives: Dense post is dense

Faust

Anarcho-Linguist

On Moons, Barycenters, and What you Put into your Work

minçɪn nedəwaðʌl, dati?

Plus Ultra – A Day in the Life of and a Defense of the Ultra in America

ɹ̝̠̊ɔməkal

Home of writer, kit designer, and football-addict Niamh Kendall