More Fun with the Dialectizer

Earlier this year, I wrote about playing around with the Dialectizer, which takes text and re-formats it in different dialects or styles.

I’ve been playing some more. It’s fun! You can create some real treasures.

Here’s Phenomenal Woman by Maya Angelou done in Redneck style. Thought that would be something all those Trump supporters out there might like. Read it and weep. Sorry, Maya.

Purdy wimmen wonner whar mah secret lies.
ah’s not hansum o’ built t’sueyt a fashion model’s size
But when ah start t’tell them,
They reckon ah’s tellyng lies.
ah say,
It’s in th’ retch of mah arms
Th’ span of mah hips,
Th’ stride of mah step,
Th’ curl of mah lips.
ah’s a woomin
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woomin,
Thet’s me.

ah walk into a room
Jest as right fine as yo’ please,
An’ t’a man,
Th’ fellers stan’ o’
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm aroun’ me,
A hive of honey bees.
ah say,
It’s th’ fire in mah eyes,
An’ th’ flash of mah teeth,
Th’ swin’ in mah waist,
An’ th’ joy in mah feet.
ah’s a woomin
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woomin,
Thet’s me.

Men themselves haf wonnered
Whut in tarnation they see in me.
They try so much
But they kin’t touch
Mah inner mahstery.
When ah try t’show them
They say they still kin’t see.
ah say,
It’s in th’ arch of mah back,
Th’ sun of mah smile,
Th’ ride of mah breasts,
Th’ grace of mah style.
ah’s a woomin

Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woomin,
Thet’s me.

Now yo’ unnerstan’
Jest whuffo’ mah haid’s not bowed, cuss it all t’ tarnation.
ah doesn’t shout o’ jump about
Or hafta talk real loud, cuss it all t’ tarnation.
When yo’ see me passin’
It ought t’make yo’ proud, cuss it all t’ tarnation.
ah say,
It’s in th’ click of mah heels,
Th’ bend of mah hair,
th’ palm of mah han’,
Th’ need of mah care,
‘Cause ah’s a woomin
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woomin,
Thet’s me.

Another poem I love and remember well from my childhood is Where the Sidewalk Ends, by Shel Silverstein. Here it is, presented in Pig Latin.

Erethay isyay ayay aceplay erewhay ethay idewalksay endsyay
Andyay eforebay ethay eetstray eginsbay,
Andyay erethay ethay assgray owsgray oftsay andyay itewhay,
Andyay erethay ethay unsay urnsbay imsoncray ightbray,
Andyay erethay ethay oon-birdmay estsray omfray ishay ightflay
Otay oolcay inyay ethay eppermintpay indway.

Etlay usyay eavelay isthay aceplay erewhay ethay okesmay owsblay ackblay
Andyay ethay arkday eetstray indsway andyay endsbay.
Astpay ethay itspay erewhay ethay asphaltyay owersflay owgray
Eway allshay alkway ithway ayay alkway atthay isyay easuredmay andyay owslay,
Andyay atchway erewhay ethay alk-whitechay arrowsyay ogay
Otay ethay aceplay erewhay ethay idewalksay endsyay.

Yesay e’llway alkway ithway ayay alkway atthay isyay easuredmay andyay owslay,
Andyay e’llway ogay erewhay ethay alk-whitechay arrowsyay ogay,
Orfay ethay ildrenchay, eythay arkmay, andyay ethay ildrenchay, eythay owknay
Ethay aceplay erewhay ethay idewalksay endsyay.

Had enough yet? No? Just one more.

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night is a poem written by Dylan Thomas. It was repeated extensively by the character of Professor John Brand (played by Michael Caine) in the film, Interstellar.

Here it is, in cockney slang.

Do not go gentle into that right good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the bloody dyin’ of the bloody light.

Fough wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words ‘ad forked no lightnin’ they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, right, the last wave by, cryin’ ‘ow bright
Their frail deeds might ‘ave danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the chuffin’ dyin’ of the light.

Wild men ‘oo caught and sang the chuffin’ sun in flight,
And learn, right, too late, right, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near deaff, ‘oo spot wiv blindin’ sight
Blind mince pies could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dyin’ of the light.

And yer, my favver, right, there on that sad ‘eight,
Curse, bless, right, me now wiv yor fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that right good night.
Rage, right, rage against the bloomin’ dyin’ of the light.

OK, I think we’re done here.

 

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