My dear old dad hails from the Rochester, NY area, which anyone from there will tell you has one of the worst possible regional accents available to the English speaking language. The R in Rochester certainly stands for "rape" because of what we from Rochester as a speaking peoples have done to that poor, poor letter. Seriously, the Alphabet Killer was famous in Rochester for killing women with their first and last names beginning with the same letter, but I think the letter R was the warning-sign cat he tortured as a weird little kid.
Maybe if you covered up your curves, R, this wouldn't have happened. Boys will be boys.**
So while all of you non-Rochestarians will expect to enjoy a visit to Roh-chester, you will be welcomed with open, knife-weilding arms to "Beautiful, surprisingly entertaining, yet always-somehow-autumn RAAAAAHHHH-chester." In addition to that monstrosity, the Rochester accent is by nature a very loud one. If you're a quiet Rochestarian taking offense to that, know that my dad is also half Italian, so volume in innate. If you're a quiet Italian taking offense to that, you might be adopted.
Meanwhile, my mother is originally from the wrong side of Germany, managing to get the hell out of dodge before shit could get entirely too real. The family then moved to the Bronx. I don't think I need to describe to you the terror with which a German accent can deliver even the most innocent of sentences, and the obnoxiousness that the accents of any of the five New York City boroughs can burn through your nerves with. Also it probably goes without saying that these accents, much like Rochester, are never imitated with a quiet voice. It's not something you really notice when my mom talks until you really, really listen. After a few conversations, you'll ask yourself something like, "Wait, has she been saying 'shivah' instead of 'shiver' all along? How did I not notice that?" It's an unforeseen consequence of escaping the clutches of an evil dictator.
And then these two unattractive accents met, and my current speech was born.
Meanwhile, my mother is originally from the wrong side of Germany, managing to get the hell out of dodge before shit could get entirely too real. The family then moved to the Bronx. I don't think I need to describe to you the terror with which a German accent can deliver even the most innocent of sentences, and the obnoxiousness that the accents of any of the five New York City boroughs can burn through your nerves with. Also it probably goes without saying that these accents, much like Rochester, are never imitated with a quiet voice. It's not something you really notice when my mom talks until you really, really listen. After a few conversations, you'll ask yourself something like, "Wait, has she been saying 'shivah' instead of 'shiver' all along? How did I not notice that?" It's an unforeseen consequence of escaping the clutches of an evil dictator.
And then these two unattractive accents met, and my current speech was born.
"Yes, she's cute, but she opens her mouth and the Nazgul sound from Lord of the Rings comes out."
Yes, I come from a Jon Snow-level of bastarded speech patterns. I've gotten used to being picked on for the way I say "fire" and "tire," which apparently do not almost rhyme with "foyer." The haters tell me that the letter I in "fire" is pronounced like an "I," and not like an "AYE THEH' GOVNA!" A kid in one of my classes back in high school heard me say the word "fire" once and greeted me everyday for weeks with his impression of me, which was, "GIT ON OUTTA HURR, THE HOUSE IS ON FARRRRR!" Apparently, I sound like some drunken cowboy, which makes about as much sense as an Italian-Rochestarian-German-Bronx accent existing anyway.
Like I said, I'm used to it. But what really bothers me is the word "horror." Let me clarify, because you've already come with me this far on this rambling journey: I love when the word "horror" is used in literature. For starters, it's just so instantly effective. Not so much when we say that something is "horrible," because that word is applied to both a tragic national incident and a stale donut at the mall. But when someone has a "look of horror" on their face, we know right away that the thing causing it is truly an abject mutant of human decency.
Like I said, I'm used to it. But what really bothers me is the word "horror." Let me clarify, because you've already come with me this far on this rambling journey: I love when the word "horror" is used in literature. For starters, it's just so instantly effective. Not so much when we say that something is "horrible," because that word is applied to both a tragic national incident and a stale donut at the mall. But when someone has a "look of horror" on their face, we know right away that the thing causing it is truly an abject mutant of human decency.
"OH MY GOD THE DONUT WAS SO STALE!" --A truly American horror story.
Furthermore, the word "horror" is spattered all across my favorite entertainments. The most obvious example is that Little Shop of Horrors is by far my favorite musical I've ever seen. At one point in time, I had a problem that there wasn't enough room on my bookshelf for both of my Edgar Allan Poe anthologies (spoiler alert: he was a creepy dude who used the word horror a lot). I studied Gothic literature in college...and continue to research Gothic literary theory to apply to my favorite TV shows for fun. No, really; my friend and I had a two hour Facebook chat conversation dissecting the first and second seasons of American Horror Story with Gothic theory. This was after the many conversations about the first few seasons of Supernatural. If I didn't love the word "horror," I'd find a different genre to obsess over.
Don't worry, I've already yelled this at myself to save you the trouble:
Don't worry, I've already yelled this at myself to save you the trouble:
The point of this rambling journey is that I have a great (and what should be an obvious) appreciation for the English language, and "horror" is one hell of a word. It enters a sentence in any story and brings with it an eerie, transcendental gloom. It doesn't even need a context; it only needs to rely on the skills of the human brain in delivering wanton fear to its owner. No one knows what scares you better than yourself, and the word "horror" makes that human tendency its bitch.
Until, of course, it comes out of my stupid face-hole.
That word has just too many god damn R's for a Rochestarian to handle, so right from the get-go, I'm totally fucked. The most natural way for me to attempt this word comes out sounding exactly like the word "whore," which would make many a Poe story quite entertaining, but frightened the hell out of my aunt when nine-year-old me told her that my favorite musical was "Little Shop of Whores." Me saying horror is like if the Red Death took off it's corpse-like mask to reveal Pee Wee Herman underneath.
It only gets worse when I try to fix it. I took a hint from my mom and tried the Bronx thing for a while, saying something that closely resembled "horah," but was more like, "horrar." It's like when Toto pulls aside the curtain to reveal the real wizard, except it's some chain-smoking trailer-park stereotype scratching her lotto cards with her thumbnail. Just...so disappointing.
Until, of course, it comes out of my stupid face-hole.
That word has just too many god damn R's for a Rochestarian to handle, so right from the get-go, I'm totally fucked. The most natural way for me to attempt this word comes out sounding exactly like the word "whore," which would make many a Poe story quite entertaining, but frightened the hell out of my aunt when nine-year-old me told her that my favorite musical was "Little Shop of Whores." Me saying horror is like if the Red Death took off it's corpse-like mask to reveal Pee Wee Herman underneath.
It only gets worse when I try to fix it. I took a hint from my mom and tried the Bronx thing for a while, saying something that closely resembled "horah," but was more like, "horrar." It's like when Toto pulls aside the curtain to reveal the real wizard, except it's some chain-smoking trailer-park stereotype scratching her lotto cards with her thumbnail. Just...so disappointing.
"I am Madge, the great and harr-able. Now get tha hell off my lawn, ya little beaastards."
It just makes me sad that the English language is already one that is abused like the red-headed stepchild everyone used to have so much of a problem with for some reason. Here I come, ready to learn its ways and craft my own art from it, and then I speak and everything goes to shit. I manage to take a word that innately strikes fear into our non-corporeal selves in writing and make it into a fart joke.
Now everybody have fun going through this and searching for grammatical errors.
Now everybody have fun going through this and searching for grammatical errors.
**Before anyone gets in a tizzy about it, this is me highlighting how stupid the "boys will be boys" argument is by using it on an abstract symbol. I understand that rape is not funny and that no one ever deserves it. Now calm the hell down.
***LOTR and GOT references in two sentences? Nerd win.
Photo Cred:
Holy shit I think they're all legal to use. Is this adulthood?
Holy shit I think they're all legal to use. Is this adulthood?
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