Name That Accent

I was born a Scouser.  For most of my childhood, I held that accent, and my sister *always* held it.  Our mother (the Geordie) made us take diction classes because she couldn’t stand the sound.  Whilst my sister never got rid of it, I learnt to speak the Queen’s English, and my accent has faded quite a bit in these past 11 years of living in America.

Enter the multiplicity bit.

I don’t write about that often anymore– at least from such a personal perspective– but the past few days have been hysterical.  Apparently there is a young Scot with a fairly thick accent who has started chatting aloud to my best friend.  Poor dear.  🙂  He says he can understand her fine, and she does speak quite slowly.  She only learnt to speak aloud about a month ago.

So far, then, there are two Scots, a fair few Irish women, one who only speaks Irish, one who only speaks Welsh, and a Cockney along with the 250 or so standard English speakers.  One of the youngest has started referring to herself as International Little Peoples, which is hysterical.  And just about right these days.

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And Other Oddities

My best friend and I watched the film ‘Across the Universe’ last night.  To quote his spot on response to a film we watched a couple of years ago, I want my two hours back.  It was annoying at best, disturbing at worst.  There *was* a plot line, to some extent, but, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, the music got in the way.  I suppose it was an ‘art’ film– I had visions of angst-ridden teenagers telling me just didn’t *understand*– but it reminded me a bit of a schizophrenic’s symphony or a really long acid trip.  Acid makes one *see* music, you know.  I haven’t dropped acid, nor will I ever, but from what I’ve seen it is definitely an experience.

The film really was quite disturbing to me, and whilst we where watching it, I couldn’t quite figure out what it was that made me feel shaken.  Afterward, though, it occurred to me that the writers and producers captured quite realistically the atmosphere surrounding sudden and intense violence.  The film was set in 1960’s America and focused rather alot on the Vietnam War.  Scenes of riots and protests, along with brief clips of war activity (all fictionalised) were rather prominent in the film.

Now for the funny part–

Overtly, the shift in my accent was hysterical to my best friend and me.  I’m a Scouser by birth, but it was very important to my mother that both my sister and I learn to ‘talk proper’ as she said.  Bless the woman, she did try and I do my best to speak the Queen’s English.  Last night, though, between my being rather exhausted and listening to a fellow Liverpudlian on screen for two hours, my accent was thick enough to make John Lennon proud.  This morning, I’m wondering if my mother has yet stopped turning about in her grave.

The covertly funny part was mine and my best friend’s brief conversation about beatings.  One of my internal folks crouched down at a particular scene in the film and covered her head.  That got me thinking about the natural position people assume when they know they’re about to be beaten.  I don’t mean punched on the nose, rather, actual beatings.  You ball up small and cover the back of your head.  The *really* funny part was my detailed reasoning behind that.  If you place your forearms on the top of your head and set your wrists at the top of your neck, you prevent your head and the upper part of your spine being struck directly.  Crouching your shoulders sets the midsection of your back highest, which is typically the broader part and can stand more force.  Funny how natural things like that become when they’re just something you’ve lived with a bit.  I can’t believe I could actually *quantify* that.

Who says growing up in abuse households creates only maladaptive coping mechanisms?  🙂