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"Shit-fuck," I would grunt, gesticulating. "Asshole cunt peepee fuck."
"Ah," grinned Old Sludge, showing his one tooth, "going to the company store to get some algae chewies, huh?"
"Goddamn poopoo," I would grin back at him.


OK, das war jetzt vielleicht etwas zu kurz. Hier das Zitat im Kontext – eine Passage aus Dan Simmons genialem Sci-Fi Epos 'Hyperion':

The left side of my brain had been shut down like a damaged section of a spinship being sealed off, airtight doors leaving the doomed compartments open to vacuum. I could still think. Control of the right side of my body soon returned. Only the language centers had been damaged beyond simple repair. The marvelous organic computer wedged in my skull had dumped its language content like a flawed program. The right hemisphere was not without some language – but only the most emotionally charged units of communication could lodge in that affective hemisphere; my vocabulary was now down to nine words. (This, I learned later, was exceptional, many victims of CVAs retain only two or three.) For the record, here is my entire vocabulary of manageable words: fuck, shit, piss, cunt, goddamn, motherfucker, asshole, peepee, and poopoo.

A quick analysis will show some redundancy here. I had at my disposal eight nouns, which stood for six things; five of the eight nouns could double as verbs. I retained one indisputable noun and a single adjective which also could be used as a verb or expletive. My new language universe was comprised of four monosyllables, three compound words, and two baby-talk repetitions. My arena of literal expression offered four avenues to the topic of elimination, two references to human anatomy, one request for a divine imprecation, one standard description of or request for coitus, and a coital variaton which was no longer an option for me since my mother was deceased.

All in all, it was enough. I will not say that I remember my three years in the mud pits and slime slums of Heaven's Gate with fondness, but it is true that these years were at least as formative as – and probably more so than – my previous decades on Old Earth.

I soon found that among my intimate acquaintances – Old Sludge, the scoop-shovel foreman; Unk, the slumyard bully to whom I paid my protection bribes; Kiti, the lice-ridden crib doxy whom I slept with when I could afford it – my vocabulary served me well.

"Shit-fuck," I would grunt, gesticulating. "Asshole cunt peepee fuck."
"Ah," grinned Old Sludge, showing his one tooth, "going to the company store to get some algae chewies, huh?"
"Goddamn poopoo," I would grin back at him.