Lvxferre [he/him]

I have two chimps within, Laziness and Hyperactivity. They smoke cigs, drink yerba, fling shit at each other, and devour the face of anyone who gets close to either.

They also devour my dreams.

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Joined 2 years ago
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Cake day: January 12th, 2024

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  • Realmente o mistério é mais difícil de solucionar do que parece à primeira vista.

    É geralmente assim com palavrão, a etimologia é sempre uma bagunça. Eles são usados constantemente então o significado evolui muito rápido, só que quase não tem registro, as pessoas evitam de escrevê-los.

    Só pra te dar um exemplo. Um dos palavrões com etimologia mais bem estudada é o “merda” do latim. Sabemos ser herdado do proto-indo-europeu, e que os falantes de latim usavam-no direto, já que tudo quanto é língua neolatina herdou a merda. Mesmo assim a gente quase não sabe em que situações os falantes de latim usavam a palavra, porque quase nunca era escrita; só em uns epigramas do Marcial e umas pichações em Pompeia. (inb4 sim, é o mesmo “merda” do português.)

    Com esses insultos é a mesma coisa. As pessoas evitam de registrar. E nisso a gente perde a história deles.



  • Se incomoda se eu responder em português? Então, pra resumir a missa: tenho quase certeza que o xingamento (viado) vem do nome do bicho (veado). Motivos:

    1. Em português é comum alçar [e o] para [i u] logo antes da sílaba tônica; principalmente em hiato, que vira ditongo, e o [i u] vira [j w]. (O nome técnico disso é “alçamento pré-tônico”, caso queira procurar papers sobre o assunto.)
    2. Palavrões muitas vezes são escritos com uma ortografia mais popular, não-padrão, representando a pronúncia. Há outros exemplos disto; tipo boceta→buceta, foder→fuder, até mesmo caralho→caraio (e olha que [ʎ] “lh” →[j] “i” é bem restrito dialetalmente)
    3. Há outras expressões usadas para atacar a comunidade gay, associando-os com bichos saltitantes; tipo “gazela”, “biba saltitante”, etc. Tem também “bambi”, mas essa é claramente derivativa de “viado”.

  • I think it also applies to expletives. Check for example ⟨vagabunda⟩* /va.ga.'bũ.da/; if there was some pressure to keep the stressed syllable it would be clipped into *bunda or *gabunda, but it’s usually clipped into ⟨vagaba⟩ instead. Technically the /b/ from the stressed syllable is still there, but the core /ũ/ ⟨un⟩ is gone.

    *gotta explain this one to the folks here. “Vagabunda” means whore, promiscuous woman, etc. It’s highly offensive, way more than the nearest English equivalent (slut), it’s the sort of word to not use even in a joke. (The masculine “vagabundo” is depreciative but socially acceptable — it means lazy arse, do-nothing.)



  • 100% isso.

    Em especial, essa “flexibilidade” aparece bastante pras vogais átonas, variam muito de acordo com o dialeto e o ritmo da fala. E ao contrário da variação nas consoantes, as pessoas não prestam muita atenção nelas.

    I’m fairly sure what happened with “viado” in PT was just like “nigga” in English. In both you get a non-standard spelling of another word (“veado” and “nigger”), representing a popular pronunciation of the word (note African American English is non-rhotic, so ⟨er⟩ and ⟨a⟩ would sound both /ə/). But they still sound the same in those popular variations.

    Pior que acho que o outro ali nem fala português. Ao menos, não proficientemente. Reparou como ele confundiu “esse” com “isso”?


  • For that pair of words (ES año vs. PT ano) this works, but note the correspondence gets really messy, it depends on the etymology of the word. A quick run-down would be:

    Origin Spanish Portuguese Example
    Late Latin */nj/ /ɲ/ ⟨ñ⟩ /ɲ/ ⟨nh⟩ Latin balneum → baneum → *banjʊ̃ → ES baño, PT banho “bath”
    Latin /gn/ [ŋn] /ɲ/ ⟨ñ⟩ /ɲ/ ⟨nh⟩ can’t recall an example both kept, but Latin agnum → PT anho /ɲ/ “lamb” (archaic)
    Latin /n:/ /ɲ/ ⟨ñ⟩ /n/ ⟨n⟩ Latin annum → ES año, PT ano “year”

    Then for Latin intervocalic /n/ Spanish simply keeps it. Portuguese initially converts it into vowel nasalisation, but then changes it further on, it’s a bit messy:

    • corōnam /n/ → ES corona /n/, PT corõa /Ṽ/→coroa Ø “crown”
    • num /n/ → ES pino /n/, PT pĩo /Ṽ/→pinho /ɲ/ “pine”
    • manum /n/ → ES mano /n/, PT mão /Ṽ/ “hand”

    For ES “ano” anus and PT “ânus” anus this doesn’t work, though. Portuguese didn’t inherit the word, but reborrowed it. And perhaps to avoid making it sound like “ano” (year), kept the Latin nominative ending. (If the word was inherited it would end as *ão or something like this.)


  • It does have a tilde but it’s mostly used over vowels, to represent nasalisation; e.g.

    • ⟨mão⟩ /mãw/ [mɜ̃ʊ̯̃] “hand” vs. ⟨mau⟩ /maw/ [mäʊ̯] “bad”
    • ⟨mãe⟩ /mãj/ [mɜ̃ɪ̯̃] “mother”
    • ⟨limões⟩ /li’mõjs/ [li.'mõɪ̯̃s] “lemons”
    • ⟨vã⟩ /vã/ [vɜ̃] “vain” (F)

    For /ɲ/ (the phoneme written “ñ” in Spanish) it’s as you said, though: it’s spelled “nh” instead.


  • This suggests widespread homophobia if enough of them could combine their brainpower to form these few thoughts

    Yup, that’s accurate. Welcome to Latin America and its macho culture. People don’t even get why those jokes are bad. Then when the LGBTQ+ community correctly points out that “a piada mata mais do que a bala” (the joke kills more often than the bullet), the default popular reaction is to claim “waaah they’re overreacting” (spoilers: they aren’t).


  • Viado comes from desviado, which means someone who was driven off the proper path. It’s just a matter of homophony (and homophobia).

    I’ve seen people backtracking the etymology to desviado and transviado. I don’t buy it because clipping (truncamento) in Portuguese usually preserves the start of the word, even at the expense of the stressed syllable; e.g.

    • universidade university → uni
    • refrigerante fizz, soda, coke, pop → refri
    • depressivo depressed → deprê

    So following the same pattern for “desviado” the result would be *des or *desvi, not “viado”.









  • Paulo Coelho is one of those authors that remind me how huge the impact of a good translator is.

    I read three of his books: Veronika Decide Morrer (Veronika Decides to Die), O Alquimista (The Alchemist), and Onze Minutos (Eleven Minutes). All in the original, in Portuguese. They weren’t as bad as people say, but they all felt lacking polish and substance.

    Then I checked Margaret Jull Costa’s translation of Veronika, and it’s like she sprouted life into it. It’s all in the subtle things: replacing a metaphor with another that works better, removing indirection from a more emotional moment, this kind of thing does wonders to make a book feel more alive, like she breathed life into it, while still being faithful to the original.

    (Another situation reminding me this impact is Interview with the Vampire. Anne Rice’s original is… okay? Kind of meh, to be honest. Clarice Lispector’s translation into Portuguese is a gem, though.)


  • you would have to have some sort of developmental disorder

    Comparing dialectal variation with developmental disorder? That’s xenophobia and ableism in a single stroke, it’s as filthy and disgusting as the nationalism and classism you parroted in your earlier comment. You’re a bigot and deserve to be treated as such.

    And you’re still spreading misinformation. Yes, both words sound the same in a lot of pronunciations. No amount of you lying will magically change this.