Back to more grand experiments.

CHAPTER 1. Looming(s)


Kawl meh Ishmael. Sum yurrs ago—nvrmd how looong precisely—having liddle oar no dollars in mah purse, end nuffin particulah to innerest me on shoar, I though I wood sail aboot a little & see the wawawy part of zee wurld. It is uh way I have of drivring off the spleen and regrurating the circuration. Whnvr I find mah self growin grim aboot the mouf; whnvr it is a damp, grizzly Vovember in mah soul; whnvr I find mahself involuntarily pausling b4 coffin wearhouses, an bringin ^ the weer of erry funeral I meat; an espeh-sho-lee wheneva mah hippos get such an uppah hand of meh, that it requires a strawng moarl principal to pervent meh 4rm deriberarey stepin in two teh stre3t, & meth-aw-dick-ly gnawcking ppl's hats awff—then, I ah-count it hi thyme to get to see as spoon as I can. This is my bubstitute for bistol and ball. W/ a filo-sof-tickle flourish Cato throughs himself uh-pon his swerd; I quitely take to teh shihp. Ther is nuh-sing sir-pry-zing in dis. If dey but new it, almost all mehn in thurr duh-gree, sum thyme or uh-ter, chair ish berry nearly teh same feerings twowards the ocaen wif meh.

The above is a translation of the first paragraph of Moby Dick, by Herman Melville (if you didn't already pick up on that), into something that is more fitting for the internet. Thanks to Amy for the help translating!