Names are a nuisance, especially for auxlangers. Consider the following:
Petrus Peter Pietro Pedro Pierre Pyotr
What do they have in common? They all begin with "p" and have an "r" further on. If we increase the level of abstraction, we can add more. But from a practical standpoint, what do you call someone whose name derives from Greek Petros?
Natlangs have trouble with this too, and there is no single answer. Do you translate the name—"Pedro" in Spanish, "Pyotr" in Russian, and so on—or simply reproduce the original? The original is more likely most of the time, but it may create problems: How do you write (or pronounce) "Shakespeare" in Esperanto, for example? Do you write it as in English, with perhaps the pronunciation in parentheses? And which pronunciation? The British themselves don't pronounce the "r," at least not in the Esperanto fashion, yet Ŝekspiro is common enough. In Inlis I'd use Shekspia, I suppose.
Anyway, the modern, somewhat smug answer seems to be, "Just use the original form."
How clever!
How ignorant!
What if the original form is obscure or problematic? Do we use "India" or "Bharat," for example? "Bharat" is well-known in its own area, but among the target demographic so is "India" (or anyway "Indi-"), and without the troubling "bh-" sequence. It's good to honor the local name and pronunciation, but it's only ethically required, I think, if we mean to replace the original: if the goal is to supplant the languages of India, we may as well retain "Bharat" as an epitaph. But if we work to leave the original languages in place, it's not so pressing.
You can also see this in the Bible. Zamenhof retained more Hebraic forms a lot of the time. Thus "Isaiah" (a wonderfully variable name anyway) becomes "Jesaja," and "Judah" becomes "Jehuda." (Yes, I know: this assumes an English standpoint. Guess what language we're using right now.) And then there's the matter of YHWH, however you want to pronounce it.
About all you can do is try to find a rule or guideline you can follow consistently. I'll give an example next time.
Showing posts with label design advice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label design advice. Show all posts
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Inlis: Grammatical Overview
[I don't know what I was thinking. Though this is only an overview, it's still hard to fit in enough detail to justify the title. I ought to list the personal pronouns, verbs, and such, but that would require a post on individual features. I may get to that eventually, but I need to resume the other topics I had already begun. I'll limit myself to a post or so per month on Inlis.]
There have been a lot of changes since I first unveiled Inlis, and more changes lie ahead. Unfortunately I don't have time to just sit down and elaborate the system properly, and there have been long stretches of inactivity.
It's a pity Interglossa isn't better known; I could explain Inlis in terms of Interglossa both quickly and easily. (No, Glosa isn't close enough to Interglossa for this: Inlis is closer to Interglossa than Glosa is.)
To begin with: no flexions. Once you learn a word, you're done with it. Ia ("ear") never becomes *ias; bi never becomes am, was, etc. (though these forms do exist: "arm," "wasp").
Like Interglossa, Inlis has functional classes for its words, though the divisions are different. I've combined "amplifiers" and "substantives" as "general words," which can function as modifiers (adjectives and adverbs) and noun phrase cores (nouns as such), but never as verbs. Prepositions as such are few and function only as prepositions and modifiers. Verbs are also restricted and have no other function.
Basic Structure
One of the things that bothered me about Interglossa, despite Hogben's criticism of Latino Sine Flexione's lack of proper syntactic markers, is that word functions were largely unmarked, making parsing unnecessarily difficult. So in Inlis, I've built in some markers. They constitute a few of the major divergences from Interglossa.
Noun phrases are marked in the standard language. Hogben does this too: Inlis da is almost the same as IG u(n), though it isn't always singular. Da is not a definite article! It just marks the beginning of a noun phrase. The end of a noun phrase is marked by a preposition, a verb, or some other element that just won't occur in a noun phrase, including the end of the sentence. Am I rigorous about this? No. Making the system completely self-parsing would be a pain for everyone. I want something that will seem fairly natural and simplify the parse.
Pronouns and names are not marked, so a sequence such as da mi is incomplete: it begins a possessive, such as da mi buk ("my book"). Similarly, da Frans gavan ("the French government") and da Laplas transfom ("(the) Laplace transform").
(Yes, adjectives precede nouns, and I prefer to render names phonemically. Realistically, we'll see names written out as in English with pronunciation in parentheses. That also means "Moscow (Moskau)" instead of "Moskva." Sorry, Dmitry.)
Verb phrases are marked by verbs. (Who knew?) As in IG, there aren't many real verbs, though they produce predictable (non-idiomatic) phrasal verbs. These are always verbs, too: unlike IG verboids, they are never nouns or modifiers. They do have predictable corresponding general words: bi has bien, hav has havin, and so on. Most verbs have two related meanings, one literal (triggered by a following noun phrase) and one more figurative (followed by one or more general words not preceded by da or its equivalent). Thus
Mi mek da haus I make/build a/the house.
Mi mek klin da haus I clean (make clean) a/the house.
Next we'll look at the name game in auxlanging.
There have been a lot of changes since I first unveiled Inlis, and more changes lie ahead. Unfortunately I don't have time to just sit down and elaborate the system properly, and there have been long stretches of inactivity.
It's a pity Interglossa isn't better known; I could explain Inlis in terms of Interglossa both quickly and easily. (No, Glosa isn't close enough to Interglossa for this: Inlis is closer to Interglossa than Glosa is.)
To begin with: no flexions. Once you learn a word, you're done with it. Ia ("ear") never becomes *ias; bi never becomes am, was, etc. (though these forms do exist: "arm," "wasp").
Like Interglossa, Inlis has functional classes for its words, though the divisions are different. I've combined "amplifiers" and "substantives" as "general words," which can function as modifiers (adjectives and adverbs) and noun phrase cores (nouns as such), but never as verbs. Prepositions as such are few and function only as prepositions and modifiers. Verbs are also restricted and have no other function.
Basic Structure
One of the things that bothered me about Interglossa, despite Hogben's criticism of Latino Sine Flexione's lack of proper syntactic markers, is that word functions were largely unmarked, making parsing unnecessarily difficult. So in Inlis, I've built in some markers. They constitute a few of the major divergences from Interglossa.
Noun phrases are marked in the standard language. Hogben does this too: Inlis da is almost the same as IG u(n), though it isn't always singular. Da is not a definite article! It just marks the beginning of a noun phrase. The end of a noun phrase is marked by a preposition, a verb, or some other element that just won't occur in a noun phrase, including the end of the sentence. Am I rigorous about this? No. Making the system completely self-parsing would be a pain for everyone. I want something that will seem fairly natural and simplify the parse.
Pronouns and names are not marked, so a sequence such as da mi is incomplete: it begins a possessive, such as da mi buk ("my book"). Similarly, da Frans gavan ("the French government") and da Laplas transfom ("(the) Laplace transform").
(Yes, adjectives precede nouns, and I prefer to render names phonemically. Realistically, we'll see names written out as in English with pronunciation in parentheses. That also means "Moscow (Moskau)" instead of "Moskva." Sorry, Dmitry.)
Verb phrases are marked by verbs. (Who knew?) As in IG, there aren't many real verbs, though they produce predictable (non-idiomatic) phrasal verbs. These are always verbs, too: unlike IG verboids, they are never nouns or modifiers. They do have predictable corresponding general words: bi has bien, hav has havin, and so on. Most verbs have two related meanings, one literal (triggered by a following noun phrase) and one more figurative (followed by one or more general words not preceded by da or its equivalent). Thus
Mi mek da haus I make/build a/the house.
Mi mek klin da haus I clean (make clean) a/the house.
Next we'll look at the name game in auxlanging.
Inlis: Importation and Homonyms
The main thing to remember when importing vocabulary into Inlis is that you will be importing nouns--not verbs as such nor adjectives as such. However, the forms may look like adjectives or (less often) verbs.
Verbs are imported as verbal nouns, and they generally end in -in: tinkin (thinking), wakin (working), wokin (walking), and so on. The reason for this ending is that -ing can suggest a noun or participle (and -en a participle), thus indicating the usage, and the marking as a verbal noun can avoid homonyms: rid (reed), ridin (reading); rait (right, privilege), raitin (writing). To avoid unwanted diphthongs, use -en instead of -in for roots ending in -a (rare--in fact, I can't think of an example right off) or -o: noen (knowing), goen (going). We also use -en after -i: sien (seeing, sight), not *siin. After -e we use -yen: breyen (braying), freyen (fraying), preyen (praying, prayer).
On the other hand, phrasal verbs don't use -in: bloap (not *bloenap, much less *bloapin), setap, wakaut (workout), etc. This generally coincides with English usage.
We seldom use -ion forms unless they are more common than the verb: neshan, opinyan, etc. Thus "creating, -ion" is krietin, not krieshan, which may however be used for the religious idea: Dem tok dibetin da krieshan oa da evolushan (They debate creation or evolution). Similarly, "sight, vision, seeing" is (as noted above) sien; vijan is vision in the mystical sense or that of what a visionary has.
Adjectives are imported in the shortest, simplest form unless that creates a homonym. Thus "wise" is wais, not wisdam, though the latter is more distinctive. Also hai (not *hait), waid (not wid, which means "weed"), and so on.
For nouns as such, we sometimes resort to the plural to avoid a homonym: tri "three," tris "tree"; bi "be," bis "bee."
In some cases, however, homonyms are acceptable. Thus, both "coat" and "court" become kot, but "court" will normally be lo-kot ("law-court"). But in compounds lo- will normally be dropped: kot-haus ("courthouse"). This won't keep punsters and fantasy-writers from construing it as "coat-house," nor is there any danger in such a move.
We try to avoid final consonant clusters, so the final consonant usually drops: impotan ("important"), esperantis ("Esperantist"), but esperantisam ("Esperantism").
This doesn't cover everything, but it should make current choices more intelligible and help someone who wants to import a form do so accurately.
Next time I'll sketch the grammar, which should explain some of the quirks we've already encountered.
Verbs are imported as verbal nouns, and they generally end in -in: tinkin (thinking), wakin (working), wokin (walking), and so on. The reason for this ending is that -ing can suggest a noun or participle (and -en a participle), thus indicating the usage, and the marking as a verbal noun can avoid homonyms: rid (reed), ridin (reading); rait (right, privilege), raitin (writing). To avoid unwanted diphthongs, use -en instead of -in for roots ending in -a (rare--in fact, I can't think of an example right off) or -o: noen (knowing), goen (going). We also use -en after -i: sien (seeing, sight), not *siin. After -e we use -yen: breyen (braying), freyen (fraying), preyen (praying, prayer).
On the other hand, phrasal verbs don't use -in: bloap (not *bloenap, much less *bloapin), setap, wakaut (workout), etc. This generally coincides with English usage.
We seldom use -ion forms unless they are more common than the verb: neshan, opinyan, etc. Thus "creating, -ion" is krietin, not krieshan, which may however be used for the religious idea: Dem tok dibetin da krieshan oa da evolushan (They debate creation or evolution). Similarly, "sight, vision, seeing" is (as noted above) sien; vijan is vision in the mystical sense or that of what a visionary has.
Adjectives are imported in the shortest, simplest form unless that creates a homonym. Thus "wise" is wais, not wisdam, though the latter is more distinctive. Also hai (not *hait), waid (not wid, which means "weed"), and so on.
For nouns as such, we sometimes resort to the plural to avoid a homonym: tri "three," tris "tree"; bi "be," bis "bee."
In some cases, however, homonyms are acceptable. Thus, both "coat" and "court" become kot, but "court" will normally be lo-kot ("law-court"). But in compounds lo- will normally be dropped: kot-haus ("courthouse"). This won't keep punsters and fantasy-writers from construing it as "coat-house," nor is there any danger in such a move.
We try to avoid final consonant clusters, so the final consonant usually drops: impotan ("important"), esperantis ("Esperantist"), but esperantisam ("Esperantism").
This doesn't cover everything, but it should make current choices more intelligible and help someone who wants to import a form do so accurately.
Next time I'll sketch the grammar, which should explain some of the quirks we've already encountered.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Inlis: Phonology and Consequences
In case anyone wonders, there is an actual basis for the vowel groups: Dr. J. C. Wells's lexical sets. The purpose of the sets is to describe phonological differences between dialects. I decided to use them in an attempt to simplify the importation process, since US and British vowels differ considerably. Inlis doesn't follow either of these dialects exclusively. Rather, it's meant to be a pan-English dialect that's closer to creoles than to the rival dialects. Speakers should always sound somewhat foreign and exotic: this is one time neither Received Pronunciation nor General American is welcome.
It should be obvious that a and o are overloaded, especially a. In my dialect, the seven mappings of o are just three distinct vowels--or technically just two. Such phenomena are common.
Still, a is overloaded, and I've tried to reduce the load, so far unsuccessfully. The current mappings seem to be the best.
Probably the most controversial items will be the mappings to o of the LOT, CLOTH, PALM, and THOUGHT sets. From a (Western) US perspective, it would make more sense to map these to a, further overloading that overworked vowel. But I chose o because
1. the sounds are commonly associated with that letter both in the main English dialects and in creoles
2. it's easier to map all of these to a single vowel, and a is already overloaded, while apart from these, o would be somewhat underloaded.
This does lead to some oddities. For example, if I imported wander and wonder directly, wander would become wonda and wonder wanda.
The big weakness is that the mappings make the English tendency toward homonyms even worse, but since I'm trying to rein in synonyms anyway, I can avoid a lot of the problem.
Next time I'll explain a bit about the grammar and importation mechanism.
It should be obvious that a and o are overloaded, especially a. In my dialect, the seven mappings of o are just three distinct vowels--or technically just two. Such phenomena are common.
Still, a is overloaded, and I've tried to reduce the load, so far unsuccessfully. The current mappings seem to be the best.
Probably the most controversial items will be the mappings to o of the LOT, CLOTH, PALM, and THOUGHT sets. From a (Western) US perspective, it would make more sense to map these to a, further overloading that overworked vowel. But I chose o because
1. the sounds are commonly associated with that letter both in the main English dialects and in creoles
2. it's easier to map all of these to a single vowel, and a is already overloaded, while apart from these, o would be somewhat underloaded.
This does lead to some oddities. For example, if I imported wander and wonder directly, wander would become wonda and wonder wanda.
The big weakness is that the mappings make the English tendency toward homonyms even worse, but since I'm trying to rein in synonyms anyway, I can avoid a lot of the problem.
Next time I'll explain a bit about the grammar and importation mechanism.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Inlis: Phonology and Mappings
Vowels and diphthongs
I generally use Spanish vowels as the model, but in generala as in father
e as in bet (or as in bait without the closing y sound)
i as in machine
o as in go
u as oo in moon
ai as eye
au as ou in house
ei as ey in obey
oi as in noise
Note that ei exists only to force the distinction with e, as in leta (letter) and leita (later, after). This distinction is uncommon.
The i of ai and oi is usually written y before another vowel. Technically, faya (fire) is pronounced FA-ya, but it's normal to say FAI-ya instead. Likewise au before a vowel is written aw: pawa (power).
The accent is on the first syllable.
Consonant mappings
Consonant mappings are mostly obvious; the exceptions areTh in thin ([T]): t
Th in then ([D]): d
L or r before another consonant: omitted. (But l may be retained in advanced vocabulary.)
Final vocalic l sound (candle, ankle, etc.) -> al: kandal, ankal
Final vocalic r sound (canker, anchor, etc.) -> a: kanka, anka
Optional generic final vowel to help with otherwise final consonants: e.
In general, Inlis restricts consonant clusters. A form such as ?sprinklin should be considered extreme and worth avoiding, though it's technically allowable. Normally, the maximum should be only two consonants per cluster.
(The normal workaround for sCl- and sCr- initial clusters is to insert an a after C: sparinklin. I've not yet decided whether to write that or not; I'm tempted to consider it optional.)
Vowel mappings
Consonant mappings are fairly simple; the vowel mappings area TRAP (bad, cab, ham) (I've considered e here, but a works better)
a STRUT (cub, rub, hum)
a BATH (staff, clasp, dance)
a NURSE (hurt, term, work)
a START (far, sharp, farm)
a lettER (beggar, martyr, visor)
a commA (China, sofa, about)
e DRESS (step, ebb, hem)
e(i) FACE (weight, rein, steak)
i KIT (ship, rip, dim)
i FLEECE (seed, key, seize)
i happY (silly, Tony, merry)
o LOT (stop, rob, swan)
o CLOTH (cough, long, gone)
o PALM (calm, bra, father)
o THOUGHT (taut, hawk, broad)
o GOAT (soap, soul, home)
o NORTH (war, storm, for)
o FORCE (floor, coarse, ore)
u CURE (poor, tour, fury)
u FOOT (full, look, could)
u GOOSE (who, group, few)
u intO (influence, situation, bivouac)
ai PRICE (ripe, tribe, aisle)
au MOUTH (pouch, noun, crowd)
oi CHOICE (boy, void, coin)
ia NEAR (beer, pier, fierce)
ea SQUARE (care, air, wear)
Note that "long u" ([ju]) becomes a mere oo sound ([u]) except initially: duti, nu, but yusin. This is because dialects differ on the non-initial pronunciation.
I'll try to justify these mappings next time.
Inlis: History
By way of background, Inlis derived from several realizations.
First, I realized that English wasn't being sufficiently leveraged. It's widely known--one of the only common denominators of the auxlang target demographic--yet this leads to nothing more than a few lexical items in most auxlangs.
Second, Lingua Franca Nova gave me a new paradigm for at-sight (or rather at-hearing) projects: it follows sound rather than writing, yet it is fairly intelligible.
Third, various English-based creoles are likewise intelligible at sight and at hearing (Bislama being my favorite), though they retain typical natlang quirks and limitations that undermine their usefulness. (In general, despite their much-touted ease, creoles are just a bit too random for auxlang use. Intelligent Design, friends! Don't leave home without it!)
Fourth, as I was fiddling with Interglossa, working on a translation of the Babel text, I realized that relexing Interglossa to to English--no, to Bislama--roots would yield an at-sight, at-hearing angloclone: an English-based auxlang.
Such an auxlang would recognize and reward the efforts of those who strive to learn at least spoken English, unlike most auxlangs which ignore or patronize such efforts. It would produce a neutral version of English, an exotic, non-native, global English--standardized, accessible, immediately extensible to nearly the full range of the original if necessary, but limited for beginners.
We'll look at the basic phonological mappings next time.
First, I realized that English wasn't being sufficiently leveraged. It's widely known--one of the only common denominators of the auxlang target demographic--yet this leads to nothing more than a few lexical items in most auxlangs.
Second, Lingua Franca Nova gave me a new paradigm for at-sight (or rather at-hearing) projects: it follows sound rather than writing, yet it is fairly intelligible.
Third, various English-based creoles are likewise intelligible at sight and at hearing (Bislama being my favorite), though they retain typical natlang quirks and limitations that undermine their usefulness. (In general, despite their much-touted ease, creoles are just a bit too random for auxlang use. Intelligent Design, friends! Don't leave home without it!)
Fourth, as I was fiddling with Interglossa, working on a translation of the Babel text, I realized that relexing Interglossa to to English--no, to Bislama--roots would yield an at-sight, at-hearing angloclone: an English-based auxlang.
Such an auxlang would recognize and reward the efforts of those who strive to learn at least spoken English, unlike most auxlangs which ignore or patronize such efforts. It would produce a neutral version of English, an exotic, non-native, global English--standardized, accessible, immediately extensible to nearly the full range of the original if necessary, but limited for beginners.
We'll look at the basic phonological mappings next time.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Why I reject the Onelang View: 4 - Conclusions
For now, we have the following observations:
1. Our target demographic is relatively small, educated, and (incidentally) westernized. The last point is incidental and will likely change, but for now it provides a useful focus, not only by simplifying the design task but making our auxlangs mutually intelligible for the most part.
2. This means we can use Outcome Neutrality as our model, allowing greater ease of learning for the comparatively few who actually need an auxlang (or at least want it enough to learn it).
3. But even Outcome Neutrality doesn't work for everybody. There are Eternaj Komencantoj for every project, and they can't practically be made to learn any one auxlang.
4. However, if multiple auxlangs are allowed, most people can probably find one that works for them.
5. The mutual intelligibility already mentioned means that even if you have trouble with one or two auxlangs, you can probably still understand them. So if you do well in an auxlang the other guy just can't master (and vice versa), you can still each use your preferred auxlang and be understood--and with less overall effort than achieving any real fluency in a natlang.
Thus it's possible to master one or two common auxlangs and just passively understand the rest: a multiple-auxlang solution.
On the other hand, Eternaj Komencantoj will doom the Onelang idea, because although they are a minority, they feed a common meme: Auxlangs Don't Work.
Think about it: we've heard that at Esperanto Kongresoj (or whatever), participants can't communicate and eventually have to use English (French, whatever, but usually English) like everybody else. We have been told that Volapükists couldn't really speak their auxlang either, and that too is a lie.
But Eternaj Komencantoj furnish real anecdotal evidence for the claim, so they are far more important than their numbers justify. If any auxlang does at all well, I guarantee that EKs will appear in the news to debunk it. But if there are several auxlangs, sincere EKs (not those with an axe to grind) can be challenged to try one of the others. That will probably do the trick, and a converted EK can be damning to critics.
All this requires a willingness to consider auxlangs seriously, however, which leads where everyone familiar with my thinking knew it would: the Auxlang Epiphany, also known as the next post.
1. Our target demographic is relatively small, educated, and (incidentally) westernized. The last point is incidental and will likely change, but for now it provides a useful focus, not only by simplifying the design task but making our auxlangs mutually intelligible for the most part.
2. This means we can use Outcome Neutrality as our model, allowing greater ease of learning for the comparatively few who actually need an auxlang (or at least want it enough to learn it).
3. But even Outcome Neutrality doesn't work for everybody. There are Eternaj Komencantoj for every project, and they can't practically be made to learn any one auxlang.
4. However, if multiple auxlangs are allowed, most people can probably find one that works for them.
5. The mutual intelligibility already mentioned means that even if you have trouble with one or two auxlangs, you can probably still understand them. So if you do well in an auxlang the other guy just can't master (and vice versa), you can still each use your preferred auxlang and be understood--and with less overall effort than achieving any real fluency in a natlang.
Thus it's possible to master one or two common auxlangs and just passively understand the rest: a multiple-auxlang solution.
On the other hand, Eternaj Komencantoj will doom the Onelang idea, because although they are a minority, they feed a common meme: Auxlangs Don't Work.
Think about it: we've heard that at Esperanto Kongresoj (or whatever), participants can't communicate and eventually have to use English (French, whatever, but usually English) like everybody else. We have been told that Volapükists couldn't really speak their auxlang either, and that too is a lie.
But Eternaj Komencantoj furnish real anecdotal evidence for the claim, so they are far more important than their numbers justify. If any auxlang does at all well, I guarantee that EKs will appear in the news to debunk it. But if there are several auxlangs, sincere EKs (not those with an axe to grind) can be challenged to try one of the others. That will probably do the trick, and a converted EK can be damning to critics.
All this requires a willingness to consider auxlangs seriously, however, which leads where everyone familiar with my thinking knew it would: the Auxlang Epiphany, also known as the next post.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
The Curse of Datuval
Not coming soon, I hope, to a theater near any of us. As this is the Auxlang Lab, I'll be exploring design issues and offering advice to designers and learners. (I've already done a bit of this.) This post is about a common and usually fatal temptation designers face.
I'll probably go into the issues involved in Volapük's demise later, but part of the problem was Schleyer's insistence on "owning" the language. He was the "Datuval"--the Creator, and he began to confuse himself, I think, with the other Creator mentioned in Genesis. You'd think a priest would know better.
Anyway, one of the warning signs of Datuval Disease is doing your level best to restrict access to your project. Serious designers post info in hypertext, plain text, or other easily-accessible format. The control freaks lock it in secured PDFs so that no one can defile their creation.
This is a bad idea on several levels. For one thing, you shouldn't make it hard for potential learners to access your material, and they may find it useful to tweak your presentation. You may find it useful, too. Never turn down free assistance, especially when there's a good chance it will be competent--and modern early adopters often are competent in some relevant area.
Here's how you can set up your auxlang on a Datuval-free basis: start a group on Yahoo! and store your basic files (grammar, vocabulary, and sample texts) there in some user-friendly format--probably hypertext, Word, RTF, or plain text. I'll explain in a later post where to go from there.
Anyway, today's Amazing Free Clue: once you've released your auxlang, it's no longer yours; it belongs to the users. It's free to evolve independently of your wishes. It may even diverge so sharply that, in effect, your project dies or becomes dormant and something else rises from the ashes. Them's the breaks, as the saying goes. Horrible as that thought may seem, you have to release your auxlang if it is to truly be an auxlang. Otherwise you should call it an artlang and keep it to yourself. It will be a relief to all of us.
I'll probably go into the issues involved in Volapük's demise later, but part of the problem was Schleyer's insistence on "owning" the language. He was the "Datuval"--the Creator, and he began to confuse himself, I think, with the other Creator mentioned in Genesis. You'd think a priest would know better.
Anyway, one of the warning signs of Datuval Disease is doing your level best to restrict access to your project. Serious designers post info in hypertext, plain text, or other easily-accessible format. The control freaks lock it in secured PDFs so that no one can defile their creation.
This is a bad idea on several levels. For one thing, you shouldn't make it hard for potential learners to access your material, and they may find it useful to tweak your presentation. You may find it useful, too. Never turn down free assistance, especially when there's a good chance it will be competent--and modern early adopters often are competent in some relevant area.
Here's how you can set up your auxlang on a Datuval-free basis: start a group on Yahoo! and store your basic files (grammar, vocabulary, and sample texts) there in some user-friendly format--probably hypertext, Word, RTF, or plain text. I'll explain in a later post where to go from there.
Anyway, today's Amazing Free Clue: once you've released your auxlang, it's no longer yours; it belongs to the users. It's free to evolve independently of your wishes. It may even diverge so sharply that, in effect, your project dies or becomes dormant and something else rises from the ashes. Them's the breaks, as the saying goes. Horrible as that thought may seem, you have to release your auxlang if it is to truly be an auxlang. Otherwise you should call it an artlang and keep it to yourself. It will be a relief to all of us.
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