<?xml version="1.0"?>
<rss version="2.0">
   <channel>
      <title>Language &amp; Society Fall 2020 by Matt Stuck</title>
      <link>https://padlet.com/matt_stuck/j9etkjnaqgnpvivm</link>
      <description>Some examples of our Fall &#39;19 students&#39; observations of &#39;language in the wild&#39;!</description>
      <language>en-us</language>
      <pubDate>2020-10-30 16:54:59 UTC</pubDate>
      <lastBuildDate>2024-04-05 19:12:07 UTC</lastBuildDate>
      <webMaster>hello@padlet.com</webMaster>
      <image>
         <url></url>
      </image>
      <item>
         <title>Entry 8: Trump&#39;s informal style</title>
         <author>matt_stuck</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/matt_stuck/j9etkjnaqgnpvivm/wish/881038633</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>My mom forwarded me this YouTube video (linked below) of John McWhorter discussing Trump’s language with Brian Williams which her friend sent to her after hearing that I was studying linguistics. It stood out to me since it seemed very prescriptivist in nature, and all of John McWhorter’s work that I’ve looked at previously has been extremely descriptivist in nature. After further searching, I found an article that McWhorter wrote for The Atlantic a few months before the news clip was released. </div><div>	In the short clip, McWhorter likens Trump’s speech to that of a drunken, poolside, uncle and belittles his repeated use of certain phrases. He argues that Trump has a small vocabulary, and that he is the first president to not show any effort in making his speech more formal.</div><div>	In the article, he expands on the claims made in the video and focuses more on what Trump’s speech says about him, rather than just calling him out for having ‘poor’ speech. McWhorter claims that Trump’s language use is simply unmonitored speech, and that given his powerful position as president of the United States, the contexts of when he uses language almost always ‘require’ more calculated, planned speech. He acknowledges that regular citizens make grammar and Tweet-orthography ‘mistakes,’ but that in Trump’s case it connotes a careless attitude. </div><div>	As much as I dislike Trump (and that’s a lot), I do find it interesting that McWhorter backsteps on his typical descriptivist stance to criticize him. I think that we should definitely hold Trump to a higher standard in all aspects of life, but I wonder if his simple speech pattern is actually something that helps him reach his supporters. In addition, I wonder how biases about Trump’s politics affects how we view his language use; especially in McWhorter’s case (and my own) I think it is easier to criticize Trump’s language because we already do not like him. </div><div>This relates to our class topic of speech style because McWhorter’s consensus was that Trump’s use of style is almost always inappropriate because any time he speaks he is representing our country. Across different contexts, Trump does not seem to style-shift away from his typical, informal, basic speech that has become infamous and a target for many comedic impressions. I wonder if the threat of losing the presidency will cause him to evaluate his language use and formalize his speech in public contexts.</div><div><br>Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qwnpa3KhT4Y</div>]]></description>
         <enclosure url="https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2018/07/trump-speech/565646/" />
         <pubDate>2020-11-02 04:18:33 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/matt_stuck/j9etkjnaqgnpvivm/wish/881038633</guid>
      </item>
      <item>
         <title>Entry 7: &quot;Just&quot; as a softener - Part 1</title>
         <author>matt_stuck</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/matt_stuck/j9etkjnaqgnpvivm/wish/881039112</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>Since I find myself using the word ‘just’ often, I wanted to explore this as a linguistic phenomenon and further research differences between the way men and women speak. I found two articles with different outlooks on policing women’s speech, but in particular, policing the use of ‘just’ as a softening word. The first article written by Stacey Lastoe describes a Google Chrome plug-in called <em>Just Not Sorry</em> which will read through your email and underline softening words such as ‘just’ and ‘I think.’ This service is well-intentioned and was founded by women who want to eliminate workplace bias; however, it poses some questions about reinforcing that women's speech is incorrect. The author of this article acknowledged this perspective, but after analyzing her own speech, realized that she too used softeners often and wanted to try to stop.</div>]]></description>
         <enclosure url="https://www.themuse.com/advice/youre-actually-not-sorryand-this-app-will-help-you-stop-saying-it-so-much-in-email" />
         <pubDate>2020-11-02 04:18:54 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/matt_stuck/j9etkjnaqgnpvivm/wish/881039112</guid>
      </item>
      <item>
         <title>Entry 7: &quot;Just&quot; as a softener - Part 2</title>
         <author>matt_stuck</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/matt_stuck/j9etkjnaqgnpvivm/wish/881039383</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>The second article covered advice given by former employee of Apple and Google, Ellen Leanse, who told women to stop saying ‘just’ because it “hurts their credibility in the workplace.” The article’s author, Shane Ferro, however, completely disagrees with this and calls out Leanse for not using real research to back up her claims (she did one experiment herself and found simply that women say ‘just’ more often than men, but did not collect data on value judgements). He accuses Leanse of advising women to be more like men at the core of her argument, which is not helpful. Ferro cites linguist, Debbie Cameron, who argues that using ‘just’ as a softener is simply more polite, and a way of asking for favors. Ferro concludes by noting that policing the use of ‘just’ is more successful at putting women down than getting them ahead in professional settings. </div><div><br>My personal stance on this argument leans more towards Ferro’s stance. However, I think that using an app like <em>Just Not Sorry</em> might be helpful in showing women how often they use softening terms because I personally do it subconsciously. While I do not think that we should police women’s speech whatsoever, I do think we as a society should get to the root issue of why women feel that they must soften their statements and requests. I think that this is less of an issue about changing the way women speak, and more about creating a workplace environment where women do not always feel like they are imposing on others.</div>]]></description>
         <enclosure url="https://www.businessinsider.com/workplace-advice-for-women-not-to-use-the-word-just-is-terrible-2015-7" />
         <pubDate>2020-11-02 04:19:04 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/matt_stuck/j9etkjnaqgnpvivm/wish/881039383</guid>
      </item>
      <item>
         <title>Entry 10:  Metathesis and Identity: ‘aks’ and ‘ask’</title>
         <author>matt_stuck</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/matt_stuck/j9etkjnaqgnpvivm/wish/881040350</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>I was inspired to write about the controversy surrounding ‘aks’ and ‘ask’ after Prof. MacKenzie forwarded my class Cecelia Cutler’s survey on NYC English. She encouraged us to send it out to other NYCE speakers, so I sent it to my parents who were particularly struck by the question which asked if the respondent would be likely to hire someone who uses ‘aks’ in place of ‘ask.’ They were surprised that this could be such a big deal in a workplace setting (probably because they were surrounded by speakers who use this form when growing up), but they admitted that they held arbitrary judgements that this form indicated a lack of education. </div><div>Knowing that this was simply a case of metathesis, I found two articles, one from Dr. John McWhorter for the LA Times, and the other from NPR WNYC, explaining the cultural significance of ‘aks’ and how it began as a simple variation, but ended up as an identity marker for black Americans. </div><div>I was surprised to find that the form originated as ‘acsian’ and ‘ask’ is the true case of metathesis. This proves further how the prescriptivist judgement of ‘aks’ being a marker of poor education is really just rooted in systemic racism (whether the judge intends it or not). I was also surprised to find in both articles that many black Americans want to eliminate the ‘aks’ form, or at least teach young speakers to code-switch to the MAE form ‘ask’ in high-stakes situations such as a job interview. </div><div>While McWhorter’s article focused on the tragedy that is prescriptivism and judgements against ‘aks,’ I liked that the NPR story covered the fact that ‘ask’ might get AAE speakers (and other ‘aks’ users) ahead in formal situations, but ‘aks’ has a positive effect in social situations amongst other ‘aks’ users and can be a powerful in-group marker which brings people together. </div><div>As does McWhorter, I hope that the use of ‘aks’ becomes less stigmatized in the future, and I think citing the data that this word originates as ‘acsian’ is a powerful persuading tool to prescriptivists that want to uphold some sort of “original” language.</div><div><br></div>]]></description>
         <enclosure url="https://www.latimes.com/opinion/la-xpm-2014-jan-19-la-oe-mcwhorter-black-speech-ax-20140119-story.html" />
         <pubDate>2020-11-02 04:19:42 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/matt_stuck/j9etkjnaqgnpvivm/wish/881040350</guid>
      </item>
      <item>
         <title>Rising Intonation</title>
         <author>matt_stuck</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/matt_stuck/j9etkjnaqgnpvivm/wish/881041869</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>Today during my freshman seminar, some students were giving presentations and I noticed that there were more rising intonations than I've noticed in normal speech when talking to those people. After taking note of it, I realized that the rising intonation was when they were feeling less confident in what they were saying and not entirely sure where to go next. I could tell they weren't very confident based on their body language and especially their lack of eye contact with the audience. The rising intonation, even though they may not have noticed it, definitely made the presentation feel less strong and secure. Rather, it felt as if they themselves weren't sure of the point they were making. This was particularly prevalent in one presenter who read notes directly from his phone and never looked up, even at their own slides. They frequently had rising intonation. <br>I can't say I've noticed rising intonation much elsewhere except when I was watching videos from the Australian Zoo, in which I noticed a significant increase in rising intonation. The woman, Bindi Irwin, was the most frequent user of it, while everyone else used it, but to a lesser extent. She didn't do it every time, but frequently enough that I noticed it. This supports the idea that women do generally lead linguistic changes and that the rising intonation really started in Australia. <br>Attached is a video with Bindi in it and a couple examples of rising intonation.</div>]]></description>
         <enclosure url="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wm4pwj8oQzY" />
         <pubDate>2020-11-02 04:20:44 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/matt_stuck/j9etkjnaqgnpvivm/wish/881041869</guid>
      </item>
      <item>
         <title></title>
         <author>matt_stuck</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/matt_stuck/j9etkjnaqgnpvivm/wish/881046740</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>Entry 7</div><div>I saw this series of images floating around on social media the other day and wanted to comment on it. I recognize that although we never talked about it in class, xenophobia can play a critical role in whether a language or non-standard variants are considered “acceptable” and that the history of a country, especially one that was colonized, also plays a role. This reminded me of the Official English movement that occurred here in the United States that we talked about in class. It’s astonishing that so many people could think that English is the official language of a country just because it’s dominant even though no one has ever told them that, and then personally take it upon themselves to police that. Additionally, even if English was the official language of Australia, that would stop governments from distributing materials in other languages, but would it prohibit businesses from doing so? At what point do such policies cross the line to violent racism?<br><a href="https://www.popsugar.com.au/tech/photo-gallery/39705664/image/39705665/We-believe-Australia-welcoming-inclusive-society/amp">https://www.popsugar.com.au/tech/photo-gallery/39705664/image/39705665/We-believe-Australia-welcoming-inclusive-society/amp</a></div><div><br><br></div>]]></description>
         <enclosure url="" />
         <pubDate>2020-11-02 04:23:54 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/matt_stuck/j9etkjnaqgnpvivm/wish/881046740</guid>
      </item>
      <item>
         <title>Journal Assignment #9: Localized Slang, &quot;Bootyass&quot;</title>
         <author>matt_stuck</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/matt_stuck/j9etkjnaqgnpvivm/wish/881048083</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>When I first described this phenomena in class, it was met with great confusion. Not only from those who have never heard the term before, but also from myself who assumed it was a regular commonplace slang term. For the sake of this journal entry, I decided to do some research, and what better place to get information on slang than Urban Dictionary. I am pleased to see that I did not misspeak, and that at least one place on the internet, it exists. Although, the definition (written in 2012) does claim that the term originates in my home town of Morristown, New Jersey. Seven years is a long time for a term to be in the vernacular of one community, yet remain on the fringes of their culture. How did the word survive such a long time when other more popular slang came and left in the matter of months? I think it has something to do with local identity. There is almost never a situation where the term "bootyass" is appropriate to use, or would be socially evaluated as funny or clever. There is almost no reason to use it. However, given that the Urban Dictionary entry's example sentence is, "Wow, you'd only hear someone say that in Morristown, New Jersey." there must be a sense of locality that comes from using the term. In Pittsburgh, PA, rather than "y'all" they replace the contraction with "yinz". I spoke to a friend who lives there, and he confirmed that it is not a word for every day use. It is a specific piece of vocabulary that gives locals a feeling of solidarity. Perhaps "bootyass" is relevant for the same reason. It is a word that should have succumb to the linguistic marketplace, but has managed to persist through its importance as something that distinguishes locality.<br><br>The second entry refers to Morristown.</div>]]></description>
         <enclosure url="https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=booty%20ass" />
         <pubDate>2020-11-02 04:24:46 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/matt_stuck/j9etkjnaqgnpvivm/wish/881048083</guid>
      </item>
      <item>
         <title>Journal Assignment #10: Linguistic Relativity</title>
         <author>matt_stuck</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/matt_stuck/j9etkjnaqgnpvivm/wish/881049208</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>The Sapir–Whorf hypothesis (or linguistic relativity) claims that language influences a speakers perception of the world. The "strong hypothesis"  of linguistic relativity, which was more popular before World War II, posits that language limits linguistic and cognitive categories. The more popular "weak hypothesis" only suggests that language influences these items. The theory of linguistic relativity has been abandoned by modern linguists but I'd argue that it has some credibility. My friend, who is fluent in English, Hungarian, Mandarin Chinese, and German, has slightly different personalities that coincide with each language. This was first brought to my attention when we were discussing an upcoming presentation that she had for class. She claimed that it would be fine because it would be in English, her best public speaking language. English is not her best language, but the one where she feels the most outgoing and ready to take on crowds. Her first language as taught by her parents is Mandarin Chinese, and she grew up speaking Hungarian at school and with friends. English is a language that came only from a formal education as a young adult. This however, was the language that she used at Model United Nations conferences and so she associates the language with acting like a diplomat, and is thus more comfortable speaking in public in English, dispute it not being her best language. Another example of her language use supporting the Sapir–Whorf hypothesis is her lack of ability to express herself in English. Her frustrations aren't with not knowing the vocabulary to express her emotions, but with English lacking the vocabulary at all. She is not feeling happy or sad or something of the sort, she is feeling something that she could not explain to me, but was a usual feeling for those who spoke the language to feel. She seems to have the ability to express how she feels in Hungarian to a much higher degree, and claims that she is able to do this because it is a much more subtle and descriptive language. So her English personality, born in mock debates, is loud and confident. Hungarian is more tender and emotional. Mandarin Chinese is more childish, reserved for family of whom she is the youngest by eight years. German is measured and mechanical, as a result of her time spent in Germany being an awkward period of her life completely enveloped in education and living with a strange host family. Although I disagree with the strong hypothesis. I definitely think that there is merit to the weak hypothesis and my observations of my friend's behavior is proof.</div>]]></description>
         <enclosure url="" />
         <pubDate>2020-11-02 04:25:30 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/matt_stuck/j9etkjnaqgnpvivm/wish/881049208</guid>
      </item>
      <item>
         <title>Journal Nine</title>
         <author>matt_stuck</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/matt_stuck/j9etkjnaqgnpvivm/wish/881052027</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>This journal examines the usage of the term "literally" in youth vernacular. It is most commonly used as an intensifier for the statement or question. The simple question "what?" transforms into a more demanding and colder version: "literally what?". As I've noticed in its usage, the term tends to solidify the seriousness of the statement. This being said, it can also be used as a tonal indicator for sarcasm. "I hate you" turns into "I literally hate you", which can be read literally or ironically depending on the context. It's interesting to see a word be used for both its intended meaning and to imply its opposing meaning. The term literally can literally be literally used or it can literally be figurative. It depends entirely on the tone of the sentence and the tone of the interaction. Though, the meaning is always intelligible regardless of the situation. This usage of the word can be compared to that of a filler word as well.</div>]]></description>
         <enclosure url="" />
         <pubDate>2020-11-02 04:27:13 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/matt_stuck/j9etkjnaqgnpvivm/wish/881052027</guid>
      </item>
      <item>
         <title>#8 NYCE in my family</title>
         <author>matt_stuck</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/matt_stuck/j9etkjnaqgnpvivm/wish/881055520</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>For this entry, I asked my grandmother and my father if I could record them speaking in the car driving through the city, from which I attached a short audio clip below. I want to look at the way New York City English has changed over two generations in my family. My father and grandmother both grew up in Brooklyn, and where my grandmother lived and worked until moving to Manhattan in her 50's. My father lived in New York City until he moved to Princeton, New Jersey, for college, and later to Pittsburgh, then back to New Jersey. In the audio, you can clearly hear my grandmother's "Brooklyn Jew" accent, including&nbsp; the use of non-rhotic vowels, the tense /æ/ in "bad", and the emphasized pronunciation of "t" at the end of "not" (in the recording) and other words ending in the consonant. On the other hand, my father displays very few of these features besides the raised "ah" vowel in words like "sorry". My father pronounces his "r's" whereas his mother is "r"-less. This is reflective of Labov's studies showing a decline in "r"-lessness over time in NYCE.&nbsp;</div>]]></description>
         <enclosure url="https://padlet-uploads.storage.googleapis.com/404690760/cf97373d2b551ca32666afb28dda61db/Leslie.m4a" />
         <pubDate>2020-11-02 04:29:20 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/matt_stuck/j9etkjnaqgnpvivm/wish/881055520</guid>
      </item>
      <item>
         <title>#10 Euphemism</title>
         <author>matt_stuck</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/matt_stuck/j9etkjnaqgnpvivm/wish/881056477</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>The video I attached below is a recording of Sweet Emma Barrett, a New Orleans jazz pianist and singer, performing "I Ain't Gonna Give Nobody None of My Jelly Roll" at Preservation Hall in 1963. <br><br></div><blockquote>"I know you want it <br>I've got to turn you down <br>My jelly roll is sweet <br>And it can't be beat<br>I know you want it<br>You can't have it <br>I ain't gonna give you none!"</blockquote><div><br></div><div>In this song and in many blues songs, "jelly roll" is used as a euphemism for female genitalia. I've included a link to an article from the American Blues Scene about the origins and usage of "jelly roll" in blues music. Culinary euphemisms for sex seem to appear somewhat frequently in jazz from the twentieth century; "cake" is also used in this recording. In general, jazz has a whole lot of slang terms- they might function as a form of covert prestige among musicians and listeners, or be used as euphemisms to address topics in music that would otherwise be considered inappropriate in public performance.<br><br><a href="https://www.americanbluesscene.com/language-blues-jelly-roll/">https://www.americanbluesscene.com/language-blues-jelly-roll/</a></div>]]></description>
         <enclosure url="https://padlet-uploads.storage.googleapis.com/404690760/1a7793405fb77e11b939c48d5b3b5c18/jelly_roll.mov" />
         <pubDate>2020-11-02 04:29:56 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/matt_stuck/j9etkjnaqgnpvivm/wish/881056477</guid>
      </item>
      <item>
         <title>Journal Assignment #7: My Multilingual Dorm</title>
         <author>matt_stuck</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/matt_stuck/j9etkjnaqgnpvivm/wish/881058732</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>Like many students at NYU, my speech networks, especially among my peers, feature great linguistic diversity. For this assignment, I am going to focus on how multilingualism functions in my dorm, between me and my roommates.<br><br>I live in a suite with five total students, all men aged 19-21. Four of us are close friends who opted to live together, with one random roommate (I will call him "the rando") who we are less familiar with. I share a room with my friends Javi and Eric; our other friend Jesse shares the adjacent room with the rando. Although Javi originally hails from South Korea, he spent a substantial portion of his childhood living in Valencia, Spain. His mother was an English teacher, and Javi spent time speaking English on a U.S. Military base in his youth as well. He is a native speaker of Korean, Spanish, and English, in order of proficiency according to his own evaluation. Eric was raised by Korean immigrants in California, and speaks English and Korean natively. Jesse attended a bilingual school in his youth and learned Spanish and English, though his proficiency in the former has declined to sub-fluent conversational proficiency. I, likewise, am a strong conversational speaker of Spanish, though I don't have a native grasp of the language.<br><br>Spanish is used around our house frequently, and often in recurring contexts. Javi and I tend to greet each other in Spanish when one of us arrives home. A lot of our Spanish discourse tends to be polite small talk. We use Spanish mostly to discuss events in the "real world" -- what we did that day, what our plans are, how we are feeling, who we saw, comments on the weather or other qualities of our environment, and so on. Between Javi and I, Spanish is the language of unimportant chit-chat; however, there is an sort of basic, mutual pleasure in our Spanish conversations. Because Spanish is not the de facto language of our daily lives, using it adds an element of novelty and presence to our mundane conversation. English, then, is reserved for more substantive conversations. When discussing politics or philosophy, conveying more complicated events or stories, or making attempts at more subtle humor, we revert to English. <br><br>It is also interesting to note how the presence of non-Spanish speakers influences how and when we use the language. When we have company over, Spanish is reserved for more personal interjections; for example, in the presence of a few friends, Javi may ask me, "Podría robarte unos huevos?" or "Encontró el cargador?" using Spanish because the content of the question pertains to only he and I, or to our mutual knowledge. Occasionally, Spanish is the language used to discuss something sensitive, private, or secret in the presence of others. Jesse may engage with us in Spanish conversation occasionally, too, although this is less common, and he seldom initiates use.<br><br>In the event that our guests are Spanish speakers, the language is used, similarly, for polite greetings and small talk. For example, almost every time our friend Ivan, who is a native Spanish speaker, comes over, greetings and a bit of "catching up" are carried out in Spanish. As Ivan becomes integrated into the social environment of the dorm, especially with the non-Spanish speakers, such as Eric or other guests, we all revert to English, the lingua franca.<br><br>Although I am not a Korean speaker, I am very intrigued by the way Javi and Eric use the language around the house. From scribblings on post-it notes to posters and stickers, Korean characters can be found all over our dorm's linguistic landscape. The contexts in which the language is spoken are quite interesting, I think; one notable quality is the association of the Korean language with Korean culture. For example, Javi often prepares traditional Korean food in the house. When he does, he often puts on his "Korean Dad" persona, adopting a gruff voice and asking Eric, formally, if he would like some food. Eric, playing along, uses the corresponding standards of politeness one would afford an elder to politely accept or decline. Javi, who likes to say he's the "Asian Dad I Never Had," will often adopt this same persona towards me, though communicating in English with a faux-Korean accent, a gruff voice,  often asking me if I'd like some food, if I have been studying, and so on. Although their intent is certainly not  exclusionary, Eric and Javi's use of Korean represent social situations distant to me. Phone calls with family members, for example, are generally carried out in Korean. I often hear the language spoken in the living room after I've gone to bed, or in other, more secluded contexts where Javi and Eric are the sole participants. <br><br>I suspect that, for Eric and even Jesse to a milder extent, mine and Javi's use of Spanish creates a certain distance or exclusivity as well, which I plan to be more conscious of from now on. Becoming more conscious of precisely how multilingualism functions in day-to-day social engagements around my own home reveals the ways in which we draw ourselves closer to others; however, it may also demonstrate the ways we create social distance.</div>]]></description>
         <enclosure url="" />
         <pubDate>2020-11-02 04:31:23 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/matt_stuck/j9etkjnaqgnpvivm/wish/881058732</guid>
      </item>
      <item>
         <title>Journal Assignment #8: Regional Marijuana Slang</title>
         <author>matt_stuck</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/matt_stuck/j9etkjnaqgnpvivm/wish/881059127</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>"You guys wanna play baseball?"<br><br>This question was recently posed among a few friends of mine while sharing a joint. It left me scratching my head.<br><br>"What's that?" I asked.<br>"You've never heard of baseball? It's when everyone takes their hit and holds it in until the joint comes back around to you."<br>"Oh, you mean Chicago," I responded.<br><br>From here, the conversation devolved into an argument as to whether this game - which is either conservational or just masochistic in nature - is called "baseball" or "Chicago." Everyone else had only heard it referred to as "baseball," which absolutely baffled me, who had only ever heard it called "Chicago." I began surveying other friends, and I quickly came to a realization. All my friends from the East Coast -- friends from back home in Upstate NY, friends from NYC, New England, Virginia, and elsewhere -- all used the term "Chicago." Friends from out west -- primarily California, but also Washington and Oregon -- knew the game as "baseball." Since attending college, where I have met marijuana enthusiasts of various origins, regional disparities in weed slang have become more apparent to me. Here's a similar example:<br><br>"Yo bro, superman that roach. You'll get sooooo high."<br><br>I made this joke with a different group of friends once the joint was on its last legs. Although some of the guys chuckled, there were definitely also some confused looks. I decided to pose a question to the group.<br><br>"What do you guys call it when you swallow the roach?"<br><br>"Wu-Tang!"<br><br>Strangely enough, I had never heard the term Wu-Tang to describe the phenomena of eating the butt of a joint or blunt, only the term "to Superman," although the Wu-Tang Clan is, of course, a New York Hip-Hop group. And, indeed, the guys in question hail from New Jersey! I'm not sure what accounts for the lexical difference here, but I wonder if it may pertain to a divide between a "Northern" dialect (Upstate NY) and a metropolitan one, from NYC-adjacent New Jersey kids.<br><br>Marijuana slang from the United Kingdom is extremely idiosyncratic, and mostly foreign to American English weed enthusiasts. Many of the terms used by English smokers are borrowed from Jamaican dialects, according to a friend of mine who's something of an authority on the subject. Terms like "zoot," for joint, or "skin," for a rolling paper aren't so outlandish. However, words like "bunning," equivalent of "blazing," "draw" for "weed," or "bifta" for joint are a bit more uncommon. "Ammo" is sort of equivalent to the American "mids," referring to weed of common, unspectacular quality. Whereas Americans may call particularly potent weed "gas," or "loud," (or, if you're from Upstate New York, "pressure" or "pain"), UK smokers might call it "peng draw."<br><br>One interesting difference I've observed pertains to the word "spliff." The word has a strong connotation with New York City and with Hip-Hop; in my personal lexicon, "spliff" refers exclusively to a joint in which tobacco and marijuana have been mixed, or less commonly, to when the weed has been rolled in a tobacco leaf of some kind (though this practice is more commonly referred to as a "blunt," a "leaf," a "wood" shortened from Backwood). However, I have encountered other smokers outside of NYC and surrounding areas -- the United Kingdom, the American South, and even the West Coast -- who use "spliff" to refer generally to weed rolled in a paper, regardless of the presence of tobacco. This lack of distinction between "spliffing" a joint, or adding loose tobacco, and simply rolling up some marijuana is quite confusing to me.<br><br>Thankfully, some terms are essentially universal. "Weed," "bud," "joint," "blunt," and other nonspecific slang create a sort of stoner lingua franca. However, divulging the most idiosyncratic elements of our weed-related language is one of the most entertaining elements of sharing a joint with friends. </div>]]></description>
         <enclosure url="" />
         <pubDate>2020-11-02 04:31:38 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/matt_stuck/j9etkjnaqgnpvivm/wish/881059127</guid>
      </item>
   </channel>
</rss>
