Shelley McKibbon (coneycat) wrote,
Shelley McKibbon
coneycat

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This? Is the awesomest thing ever!

(Edited to give credit where it's due)--I found this gem in a discussion over on bittercon)

Truespel, a system which seeks to simplify spelling and writing American English, "the world's most important language." It reminds me a bit of the theories of Melvil Dewey, father of my profession.

And it comes with an online translator! Melvil Dewey never had that! You can have hours of entertainment getting the translator to convert your blog into simple, logical, easy-to-understand Truespel. Only it's pretty slow when you do that, so you may prefer to cut and paste some text in the lower box.

In fact--hang on just a tick and I'll do it for you!


Truckin', by The Grateful Dead

Truckin' got my chips cashed in. Keep truckin', like the do-dah man
Together, more or less in line, just keep truckin' on.

Arrows of neon and flashing marquees out on Main Street.
Chicago, New York, Detroit and it's all on the same street.
Your typical city involved in a typical daydream
Hang it up and see what tomorrow brings.

Dallas, got a soft machine; Houston, too close to New Orleans;
New York's got the ways and means; but just won't let you be, oh no.

Most of the cats that you meet on the street speak of true love,
Most of the time they're sittin' and cryin' at home.
One of these days they know they gotta get goin'
Out of the door and down on the streets all alone.

Truckin', like the do-dah man. Once told me "You've got to play your hand"
Sometimes your cards ain't worth a dime, if you don't lay'em down,

Sometimes the light's all shinin' on me;
Other times I can barely see.
Lately it occurs to me What a long, strange trip it's been.

What in the world ever became of sweet Jane?
She lost her sparkle, you know she isn't the same
Livin' on reds, vitamin C, and cocaine,
All a friend can say is "Ain't it a shame?"

Truckin', up to Buffalo. Been thinkin', you got to mellow slow
Takes time, you pick a place to go, and just keep truckin' on.

Sittin' and starin' out of the hotel window.
Got a tip they're gonna kick the door in again
I'd like to get some sleep before I travel,
But if you got a warrant, I guess you're gonna come in.

Busted, down on Bourbon Street, Set up, like a bowlin' pin.
Knocked down, it get's to wearin' thin. They just won't let you be

You're sick of hangin' around and you'd like to travel;
Get tired of travelin' and you want to settle down.
I guess they can't revoke your soul for tryin',
Get out of the door and light out and look all around.

Sometimes the light's all shinin' on me;
Other times I can barely see.
Lately it occurs to me What a long, strange trip it's been.

Truckin', I'm a goin' home. Whoa whoa baby, back where I belong,
Back home, sit down and patch my bones, and get back truckin' on.

And now for the Truespel version:


Truckin', by Thu Graetfool Ded

Truckin' gaat mie chips cashed in. Keep truckin', liek thu due-dah man
Tuggether, mor or les in lien, just keep truckin' aan.

Airoez uv neeyaan and flasheeng maarkkeez out aan Maen Street.
Shikkaagoe, Nue York, Detroit and it's aul aan thu saem street.
Yer tipikool sitee invvaalvd in u tipikool daedreem
Haeng it up and see wut tummaaroe breengz.

Dalis, gaat u sauft mussheen; Hyuestin, tue kloes tue Nue Orleans;
Nue York's gaat thu waez and meenz; but just woent let yue bee, oe noe.

Moest uv thu kats that yue meet aan thu street speek uv true luv,
Moest uv thu tiem thair sittin' and cryin' at hoem.
Wun uv theez daez thae noe thae gotta get goin'
Out uv thu dor and doun aan thu streets aul ulloen.

Truckin', liek thu due-dah man. Wunts toeld mee "Yue've gaat tue plae yer hand"
Sumtiemz yer kaardz aent werthh u diem, if yue doent lay'em doun,

Sumtiemz thu liet's aul shinin' aan mee;
Uther tiemz Ie ken bairlee see.
Laetlee it ukkerz tue mee Wut u laung, straenj trip it's bin.

Wut in thu werld ever beekkaem uv sweet Jaen?
Shee laust her spaarkool, yue noe shee izint thu saem
Livin' aan reds, vietumin C, and koekkaen,
Aul u frend ken sae iz "Aent it u shaem?"

Truckin', up tue Bufuloe. Bin thinkin', yue gaat tue meloe sloe
Taeks tiem, yue pik u plaes tue goe, and just keep truckin' aan.

Sittin' and starin' out uv thu hoettel windoe.
Gaat u tip thair gonna kik thu dor in uggen
Ie'd liek tue get sum sleep beeffor Ie travool,
But if yue gaat u worint, Ie ges yue're gonna kum in.

Busted, doun aan Bourbon Street, Set up, liek u bowlin' pin.
Naakd doun, it get's tue wearin' thhin. Thae just woent let yue bee

Yue're sik uv hangin' urround and yue'd liek tue travool;
Get tierd uv travelin' and yue waant tue setool doun.
Ie ges thae ken't rivvoek yer soel fer tryin',
Get out uv thu dor and liet out and look aul urround.

Sumtiemz thu liet's aul shinin' aan mee;
Uther tiemz Ie ken bairlee see.
Laetlee it ukkerz tue mee Wut u laung, straenj trip it's bin.

Truckin', Ie'm u goin' hoem. Woe woe baebee, bak wair Ie beellaung,
Bak hoem, sit doun and pach mie boenz, and get bak truckin' aan.

So, if anyone was wondering what it would look like if Lolcats wrote lyrics--now you know. "Wut u laung, straenj trip it's bin," indeed.
Tags: internet silliness
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