Excuse Me, But What the Fuck is This?

Um, okay. Go over to www.skookumchuck.org, which is supposed to be my friend George's blog.

It has instead become something called "The World of Kevin", which probably was your average blog by some guy about his life...Before whatever the fuck happened here, because now it seems to be trying to sell you something in that inept way that blogs do (i.e. semi-coherent repetition/babbling), and has been transposed into this weird quasi-Esperanto that is seemingly equal parts Italian, Latin, Vietnamese and some long-dead tribal dialect from the Eastern Seaboard.

Let's examine this. For one thing, Kevin, who lives in Florida, is somewhat unlikely to have chosen the word 'skookumchuck' for himself, unless he used to live in the Northwest. Varieties of 'skookum', from the Chinook trade dialect, turn up repeatedly in the geographic nomenclature of Oregon and Washington ('Skookumchuck', 'Skookumjack', 'Little Skookum', etc.).
For all its ubiquity, the actual meaning of the word varies greatly from user to user. For instance, I've heard it said that 'skookumchuck' translates loosely as "good luck", whereas 'skookumjack' is "bad luck". But I have no idea, because at various points I've heard the base word 'skookum' used as a synonym for "chutzpah" (or, as the Finns would say, "sisu").

I also heard a cop say it this way once; "I couldn't skookum it," meaning he couldn't figure (whatever) out. I've heard the word used in manifold other ways, and I'm gonna stop going down that road now, since we'd be here all day, and neglecting the wonderful world of Kevin.

The guy himself probably has no idea that his blog has been hijacked. It says here that his name is Kevin Pruca, he is a 34-year-old (married) male whose birthday is March 27th. He lives in Crestview, Florida and his favorite quote is "Lorem ipsum consectetuer adipiscing elit. Curabitur vel eros.consectetuer adipiscing elit. Curabitur vel eros."
Now, that above certainly looks Latin, but I'm thinking that it's not. Kevin enjoys listening to such generic-sounding song titles as: "One Funky Kat", "Back in the Day", "Rockin' Out" and one that's just called "Live in Concert".


There are some photo albums (unobtainable) that feature 'Hiking at Summit Rock' and 'The Grand Canyon with Friends'. Below, there is the Friends List. It's true: when I look at 'Mason' (odd name for a lady), I too think "Bibendum quis, dapibus ut". (She's the Michelin tire man?)

The whole thing sort of feels like those transplanted memories one might provide a cyborg with, to make it feel a little more human. Or those soothing wallpaper images that are already on your computer the very first time you turn it on. They're beautiful in their way, but it feels wrong to enjoy them.

And that brings us to "Red Vines, the perfect super food". As you can see, these are red grapes, which grow on vines, yes it's true. Perhaps Kevin/spambot is actually telling us that the popular brand of licorice whip known as Red Vines is the most healthy food of all.
Actually, why do 'perfect' and 'super' need to do their work paired up in that way? Isn't that gilding the lily?

This "post" repeats itself five times, and there are no others. Well hell; you got me here, let's hear your pitch.

"Eliquatuero dip numsan vent lam, conum facillum init lut doloreet ullametuero od tet adit, commod tatummy feug tiam velit praese exer aute enit alit, veliqua modit dolorer commod niam onul laore praese exer aute enit alit."

After all the effort that seemingly went into this enterprise, you'd think they'd find some decent translation software. But the problem doesn't seem to be Latin-English translation; it seems to be Every-Language-In-The-World- to English translation.

Let's examine that. 'Eliquatuero', 'ullametuero' and 'praese' all look pretty Italian to me, whereas 'dip numsan vent lam' could easily be on the menu in a pho restaurant. 'Conum facillum init' is Latin, I'm pretty sure, but then 'doloreet' appears, and perhaps that's pidgin for 'dolorous' (or it's the noise a Money Bird would make).
'Od tet adit' has a Danish feel about it, while 'tatummy' frankly reminds me of Chinook (or Mohonk, or any number of dialects that no longer have many native speakers). What the fuck is this?

I don't know, and I'll probably never know. I love the interwebs there for this kind of thing: a spambot is speaking in tongues, and strangely seems to have borrowed the address of my friend's blog, and hollowed out the carcass of a complete stranger's, nestling inside like a hermit crab.
All that said, I hope George gets back up soon, perhaps with pictures of our recent trip to the spawning grounds of the mid-Columbia. Sex n' death baby! Liebestodt!

Update, and an addendum: George's blog is back in its proper place. Apparently there was something (deeply) wrong with both his computer and the server he uses.

Also, someone named Kevin has commented and written about the 'language' I'm dissecting up there. He has a different last name than the 'Kevin' whose world we explore in this post.

And finally; it's true that what fish do this time of year can't really be described as sex as such. In human terms, it would be like a date shortly before both parties will be dying. The conversation would be something like, "I love you, honey. Now go jack off on that pile of eggs I just laid."