Like, web feature (The Daily Texan 9.5.02)

By Michael Rubinkam (Associated Press)

"This is, like, way cool".

A Temple University linguist says there's a lot to like about "like," the crutch word of teenagers and the bane of language purists. Muffy E.A. Siegel, who has published a scholarly study of the word, says "like" is not mindless filler but can actually impart meaning.

"Like" in its slang form has been around for decades but came to the attention of linguists in the mid-1980s after it was popularized by Southern California "Valley Girls" ("Like, gag me with a spoon.").

The Valley Girl version of "like" is classified by linguists as a "discourse particle," along with "um," "well," "oh" and the like. Unlike mere fillers, however, "like" has the ability to change the meaning of a sentence, according to Siegel's research, which builds on the findings of at least two other studies of the word.

For example, "like" can be a hedge when the speaker is not quite sure what he or she is about to say is accurate. (Example: "He has, like, six sisters.")

Siegel and other linguists have identified a variety of other uses for "like": a substitute for "said"; a way to introduce an exaggeration ("He's, like, 150 years old."); and, yes, a filler when the speaker is casting about for just the right words.

"That's the word you use when you can't think of anything else to say. During a story, people use 'like' a lot to keep the story going instead of pausing," said Molly Pardue, 17, a high school senior from Devon, Pa. "Teachers will stop us and be like, 'Do you know what you just said?'"

Siegel's own daughters provided the inspiration for her study, published in the Aug. 19 issue of the Journal of Semantics. Their speech was littered with "likes," and Siegel began to wonder whether there was some greater meaning.

At first, Siegel conducted formal, one-on-one interviews. But she soon abandoned that approach because her teenage subjects were using too few "likes." Fortunately, Siegel's older daughter Miriam happened to be doing a school project in which she asked classmates a single question: "What is an individual?"

Those 23 tape-recorded interviews conducted informally in school hallways, classrooms and even the girls' locker room formed the basis of Siegel's research. Fourteen of the students used "like" at least once. Siegel's own daughter also used it.

Siegel turned her linguist's mind to the transcripts. Her findings largely involve mathematical formulas and esoteric linguistic concepts such as "truth-conditions" and the "weak/strong distinction." Essentially, though, Siegel's claim is that "like" can change the meaning of a sentence.

"It's a big deal to linguists because the assumption has always been that all the meaning in a sentence comes from the real words in the sentence," Siegel said.

Nancy Niedzielski, a linguistics professor at Rice University, said linguists won't be horrified by Siegel's defense of "like." "Linguists tend to be much less prescriptive than other people who look at language," she said.

Sister Marianna Fieo, an English teacher at Archbishop Carroll High School in suburban Philadelphia, would prefer to see the word used "as it is intended, as its proper part of speech."

"You wonder as a teacher why someone would seize upon that particular word, which doesn't seem to have any particular relation to the way the student is using it," she said.

Niedzielski said that like it or not, "like" is probably here to stay. "It doesn't matter what parents or editors or English teachers say," she said.

Between Fakatsit and SMS-it* there's some Hebrew**

Translated from Israeli version on ynet.co.il, 14.06.06

The language of Israeli teenage girl-bloggers draws away from written Hebrew, to a point of illegibility. However researchers advise not to call them illiterates and point out a first innovative attempt to create a Hebrew [sic] web lingo

Gal Mor

באתר *‏w‏ ‏X‏נ*‏N‏3*!ת, ‏N‏‏w‏חק* ‏X‏!ן-&**ן,ת!כנ!ת,07ט!נ*ם,ת‏N‏!נ!ת ‏N‏גנ*2!ת, ק&*פ*ם !‏w‏*7*ם, 7*ג‏w‏!נ*ם !‏y‏!ד....ת!0*פ! ‏X‏ת ‏y‏‏N‏3כם &7‏w‏*‏N‏ת הח27*ם ‏w‏&נ!!!!!

Normative form:

באתר יש אנימציות, משחקי און-ליין, תוכנות, סרטונים, תמונות מגניבות, קליפים ושירים, רגשונים ועוד... תוסיפו את עצמכם לרשימת החברים שלנו!!!

If you did not understand this opening sentence, which appears at the top of a personal page in [Israeli] youth portal Tipo, then you are probably not in the right age for it.

Every child can explain to you (with a wondering look on his face) that it says: “The site includes animations, online games, software, film strips, cool pictures, video clips and songs, emoticons and more… Add yourself to our members list!!!”. Meet Fakatsit, a lingo common among groups of young bloggers, and a distant relative of SMS-it.

Fakatsit, not SMS-it

Illan Gonen and Carmel Vaisman, who performed a research on this digital youth lingo, show that the connection between the two lingos today is fairly weak: while the purpose of SMS-it is as brief a message as possible, Fakatsit doesn’t abbreviating but lengthens for ornamentation and fun purposes.

The former replaces [Israeli] words with letters or digits, e.g., u instead of you, while in Fakatsit [Israeli] letters are replaced with ASCII symbols with graphic resemblance, e.g., y for the Israeli letter Ayin ע, while the length of the word does not change. Another distant relative of the two is l33t (1337, from elite), hackers’ lingo.

The two researchers presented their first findings at a conference of The Israeli Association for the Study of Language and Society (IALS site, in Israeli), that took place last week at The Open University of Israel.

The uniqueness of [Israeli] Hebrew

Why does SMS-it fail in Israel?

Why does SMS-it fail in Israel, unlike in English-speaking countries? One possible reason is sparsity of letters and characters which can be used for space-saving replacement, such as כל הז בצבא [trans. the worse comes for those in the army, lit. all the-dick in-the-army, /kol ha-zAin ba-cava/. The name of the Israeli letter ז is Zayin, which also means vulgar dick]. Another reason, According to Gonen, is the growing tendency in “Israeli” [inverted commas sic] language towards disassembled constructs rather than joint: אימא שלי [trans. my mom, lit. mom mine, /Ima SelI/ rather than אמי [lit. mother-POSSESIVE PRON 1st sg, /imI/], אח שלי [trans. my brother, lit. brother mine, /ax SelI/ rather than אחי [lit. brother- POSSESIVE PRON 1st sg, /axI/], אני עובד בתור מלצר [trans. I work as a waiter, /anI ovEd betOr melcAr/ rather than אני עובד כמלצר [/anI ovEd ke-melcAr/]. This tendency towards disassembly lengthens the sentence. Since SMS-it has contrasting characteristics to this lengthening tendency in spoken language, it does not affect it largely.

Secret code for keeping grown-ups away

Before media-seeker parliament members rush to submit motions for the agends like “H3br3w – n0w wh3re t0?” and talkbackers to this article will mourn the death of Hebrew and the youngsters’ ignorance, you should calm down and listen the researchers, who say Fakatsit is merely a secret code used by teenagers (mostly girls) for creating a communication channel free of listening adults , just like sfat ha-Bet*** was used for in our times.

Vaisman and Gonen stress that Fakatsit is not an official name, due to the word’s negative connotations. According to Ruvik Rosental, an IALS board member and of the conference initiators, the word fakatsa was first used as a moniker for a woman serving as a military secretary, and then refered to a yuppie bimbo (and maybe acronym of frexa ktana ve-tsa’akanit [trans. young flamboyant bimbo]). Finally, the name was stuck to teenage girls (mostly aged 11-15) who operate pinkish blogs, decorated with graphic “buttons” and dolls animations.

...

An innovative attempt to create a web lingo

The most prominent characteristic of Fakatsit is its orthography, which simulates spoken Israeli teenagers’ slang and deviates from standard grammar. Vaisman believes that despite the disesteem that the media and older bloggers show towards the fakatsas, the girls present a first innovative attempt to create a Hebrew [sic] “web lingo”.

According to her [sic, according to Gonen], they make a sophisticated use ASCII keyboard characters and other graphic symbols for a new written lingo, combining Hebrew letters. These adolescent girls tend to switch Hebrew letters with graphically resembling ASCII symbols.

The logic behind this switch code is graphic. In most cases, the letters are switched with digits or like characters. For example, the Hebrew letter Pe פ [usually stands for the sounds /p/ or /f/] is exchanged with the digit 9; the letter Tzadi צ [usually for /c/, צ in handwriting] with the digit 3; and the letter Shin ש [usually for /S/ or /s/] replaced with the English letter W, or with a sequence of slashes and back-slashes \/\/ [or with the English lower-case letter e, which resemble the handwriting form ש]. Vaisman and Gonen stress that the letter switching is not regular as natural written languages. For example, the common Fakatsi sentence אני פצצה פגזית ומושלמת ‘I’m a stunning, perfect knockout’ [anI pcacA pagazIt ve-muSlEmet, lit. I bomb canonball-like and-perfect] can be written in each of the following ways [and many other combinations]:

%נ^ פ33ה 9גז^ת 1N!W5Nת

JX+ 9צ3ה פגז*ת !N1e5Nת

א(י פ33ה פגזית 1מוeלמת

“The keyword is playfulness”, says Gonen, “Their goal is to have fun, not to deliver a message”. Fakatsit, in its extremity, is very illegible, and the researchers assume that it serves the adolescent need for close communality, to cultivate a community without intruders.

“We should not be quick to call them illiterates”, Vaisman recommends, “The definition of literacy is always changing and context-dependant, and many researchers notice that teenagers in computer era have completely different literacy skills. Therefore, it is hard to judge a girl who writes איברית instead of עברית [‘Hebrew’, both pronounced ivrit, the latter is the normative] but knows how to use ‘Photoshop’ for design and combines loanwords in sentences. The language skills required in the digital era are more intricate, and we cannot judge them by the education system standards required twenty years ago”.

Vaisman and Gonen point out in the last six month an Fakatsit’s evolution: the fakatsas use in their blogs ASCII symbols which do not appear on the Israeli keyboard, and make their lingo more creative – hence even less coherent.

Orthography deviations for cuteness

Fakatsit draws away from written Hebrew [sic] not only in letter switching. Girl bloggers sometimes write הבלוג שילי [ha-blOg shilI ‘my blog’] rather than normative הבלוג שלי [ha-blOg shelI, switch Zayin ז [usually represents /z/] with Samekh ס [usually /s/]: מה סה הדבר הסה? [‘What is that thing?’, probably pronounced: ma se ha-davar ha-se] rather than normative מה זה הדבר הזה? [ma ze ha-davAr ha-zE]; switch Dalet ד [usually represents /d/] with Tet ט [usually /t/]: מאוט יפה [‘very pretty’, probably pronounced: meOt yafE] rather than normative מאוד יפה [meOd yafE]; and writing Ayin ע [usually /ø/****, therefore pronunciation of its usages is unkown] instead of He ה [usually for /h/ or /ø/]: normativeחמודה [‘cute-fm-sg’ xamudA] is replaced with חמודע, normative קטנה [‘small-fm-sg’ ktanA] is replaced with קטנע, and given name שירה [‘Shira’] is replaced with שירע.

“They are clearly not spelling mistakes, but consistent orthographic deviations”, says Gonen, who assumes that these changes are part of the cuteness of the written language – a keyword in child culture. Vaisman and Gonen assume that the trend of cuteness is inspired by Japan.

They write as they speak

“When they are angry they can write in Fakatsit ימפגרת יסתומה הרסת לי תיום [‘you stupid retard you’ve ruined my day’, lit. DEROG-retard DEROG-stupid ruined to-me the-day, ya-mfagEret ya-stumA harAst li ta-yom, normative: יא מפגרת, יא סתומה, הרסת לי את היום; ya mefagEret, ya stumA, harAst li et ha-yom]”, says Gonen. “You write the way you speak. It is not a new language. The girls do not invent new rules, but merely write the spoken language. Most people pronounce the following colloquialisms, but would write them in normative script:

מסכירה [maskirA ‘secretary’, normative: מזכירה mazkirA];

אנלא [an-lO ‘I’m not’, normative: אני לא anI lo];

בצפר [becEfer ‘school’, normative: בית ספר beyt sEfer];

גמני [gamanI ‘me too’, normative: גם אני gam anI]”.

Fakatsas totally erase the difference between written and spoken languages.

Another phenomenon in Fakatsit is adding the suffix -uS for cuteness: עדי [adi, given name] becomes עדידוש [adiduS], גיא [gay, Guy, given name] is גאיוש [gayuS], אילת [eylat, Israeli city of Eilat] is אילתוש [eylatuS]. However, -uS is not suffixed to proper names alone: you wear חצאיתוש [xacaituS, norm: xacaIt ‘skirt’], something you see can be מדהימוש [madhimuS, norm: madhim ‘amazing’], and when you leave, you say יאללה ביוש [yala bayuS, norm: yala bay ‘well, bye’]. Some words can join in Fakatsit in a way that hasn’t been seen until now in Israeli writing: גמני [gamani] rather than גם אני [gam ani ‘me too’], ממצב [mamacav] instead of מה המצב [ma ha-macav ‘what’s up’], and some other [more complex] variations, such as ממצב אנשנושים [mamacav anaSnuSim, norm: ma ha-macav anaSim ‘what’s up, people’].

...

הבירת'דיי המהמם שלייק היה ‘The awesome birthday that like was’

The greatest linguistic influence on Fakatsit, but Hebrew [sic], is naturally English. The researchers noticed innovations such as הבירת'דיי המהמם שלייק היה [ha-bersdey ha-mehamem Se-layk haya ‘The awesome birthday that like was’], normatively יום ההולדת המהמם שכאילו היה [yom ha-huledet ha-mehamem Se-keilu haya]. “The layk in sense of ‘like’ is, of course, not new to Israeli, but the agglutination of the subordinator prefix ש- [Se-] to layk is the onnpvation of Fakatsit”, note Gonen.

...

* SMS-it /esemEsit/ is the Israeli name for the Israeli SMS jargon.

** My additions are given in [square brackets].

*** sfat ha-Bet is an Israeli language game used by children. The principle was to separate the syllables in a word by insertion of the consonant /b/ (the letter Bet) plus a vowel assimilated to its preceding vowel.

**** Merely an orthographic residue from Hebrew script. In a few Israeli variants still pronounced as pharyngeal voiced fricative /ʕ/, and in some others variants as glottal stop /ʔ/.

Israeli future 1st person

אני ילך לסופר ‘I will go to the supermarket’ /anI yelEx la-sUper/

Standardized form: אני אלך /anI elEx la-sUper/

Most of the Israeli readers are horrified the moment they read this sentence. True, seeing it written down is a little unusual, but actually most of the Israelis are used to hearing this new 1^st-person-singular-future inflectional prefix /y-/ and do not notice when people pronounce anI elEx or anI yelEx.

How has it happened?

Israeli verbal inflection of 1^st-sg-future requires a preceding pronoun. Most Israelis would say ‘I will go’ anI elEx, ‘You-sg-ms will go’ atA telEx, ‘He will go’ hu yelEx, rather than just elEx, telEx, yelEx, respectively.

The pronoun requirement exists only in part of the inflections, mostly in present tense, 3^rd person past tense, 1^st and 3^rd person future tense.

Note that Hebrew did not require a pronoun preceding verbs, as the person was expressed in the verbal prefix /?-/, i.e. אלך /?elEx/. This glottal stop disappears gradually in Israeli, weakening the inflectional marker of 1^st person sg.

Then came y. why?

1. Phonological reason: Breaking vowel string Israeli 1^st person future verbs always begin with a vowel: /e/ as in ercE ‘I-will-want’ /a/ as in axil ‘I-will-contain’ /o/ as in oxAl ‘I-will-eat’ /u/ as in uxAl ‘I-will-be-able’ /i/ as in iSAn ‘I-will-sleep’.

The sound /i/ at the end of the pronoun anI ‘I’, followed by the vowel that starts the future verb (agreeing in gender and number), create an unfavorable consequence of two vowels. An epenthetic /y/ breaks it and creates a CV.CV sequence, with an unmarked syllable structure:

אני אלך anI elEx à אני ילך anI yelEx (‘I will go’, lit. ‘I go-1^st-sg-future’)

2. Morphological reason: Fewer inflectional person forms

After the /y/ epenthesis, 1^st-sg-future inflection of the verb ‘go’ is yelEx, similar to 3^rd-sg-ms-future: הוא ילך ‘he will go’ hu yelEx (lit. ‘he go-3^rd-sg-ms-future’).

This is not a new phenomenon to Israeli: the verbal inflections of 2^nd-sg-ms-future and of 3^rd-sg-fm-future are the same:

אתה תלך atA telEx ‘you-sg-ms will go’

היא תלך hi telEx ‘she will go’

To sum, there are three singular future verbal person inflections using three forms:

אני ילך anI yelEx ‘I will go’

אתה תלך atA telEx ‘you-sg-ms will go’

את תלכי at telxI ‘you-sg-fm will go’

הוא ילך hu yelEx ‘he will go’

היא תלך hi telEx ‘she will go’

For comparison, Hebrew singular future verbal inflections:

אלך ?elEx ‘I will go’

תלך telEx ‘you-sg-ms will go’

תלכי telxI ‘you-sg-fm will go’

ילך yelEx ‘he will go’

תלך telEx ‘she will go’