ASK H.A.T.
“Were here to listen. It’s not that we care, it’s just that we’re bored”
Dear Hyperion and Tracy,
Last week Tracy called you "Dubbah." What does that mean?
Signed,
Looking for a new insult
Dear Looking,
Hyperion: I had no idea what Tracy meant when she called me “Dubbah.” (This in itself is not disconcerting. To exist in TL's world is to not understand half of what she says, and disbelieve the other half.) At first I thought she was dyslexically calling me the Buddha, because of my sagacity and my large, uh, bodi tree. However, one suspects it's one of those "quaint" New England expressions. I'll turn it over to Tracy so you can get it straight from the horse's mouth.
Tracy Lynn: In the Maine patois, to call someone a dubber or dubbah is to imply that they lack even the basic skills to remember how to breathe.
I call Hyperion this, as should be obvious, because of his complete inability to focus on the question at hand at any given time with out devolving into an essay on lesbians, Vincent Vega or broccoli.
Hyperion: There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio Lynn, then are dreamt of in your philosophy.
While we're on the subject, what are some other Maine sayings?
Tracy Lynn: Well, what you think of as a milkshake, we call a frappe. If you ask for a milkshake, you get chocolate milk. We use the term wicked a lot, as in this column is wicked good.
A U turn is referred to as a u-ey, we have traffic circles, and ayuh is still very much in use. Some people still call soda tonic. And a clambake is when you dig a pit in the sand, put in a fire, cover the coals with seaweed, throw in a bunch of clams, lobsters, etc and cover it up with sand and let it bake for hours.
And as to whether I have a Maine accent, the answer is...sometimes
Hyperion: I think the "Main" thing to remember is that people from Maine are crazy.
Dear Hyperion and Tracy,
Who is more dangerous between you two? What about Men vs. women?
Signed,
Battler between the Sexes
Dear Battler,
Hyperion: The answer to both questions are the same, so I'll handle this jointly. I've always been bigger and stronger than those around me, and been "feared" for that reason. But several years ago I had a woman tell me, "You scare me, and it's not because of your size, it's because there isn't a line you won't cross, there isn't a rule you won't shatter, there isn't a dark place you won't go if you feel justified in doing so." (Should have married that girl....sniff sniff)
With that said, there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that Tracy Lynn is the more dangerous of us two, as are women in general.
I think we can readily admit that obvious: men commit more violence. Because of testosterone? Maybe. The "Y" chromosome? Seems likely. Having to put up with women? That's another question.
But apart from psychopaths, men generally have a logical reason for their danger, like you stole their car, hurt a woman, or ate their beef jerky. Where as a woman might stab you for simply pointing out one of the 8959 problems with New England.
I read once that a woman will be much quicker to kill, though she will feel worse about it later. As for our esteemed Tracy Lynn, you've read all the threats she makes against me. Sometimes I feel lucky there are so many thousands of miles between us. (On the other hand, I like violent women; find them sexy, which is half the reason I wanted to work with her in the first place.)
Tracy Lynn: While I normally hate to do this, as I feel it encourages him in a way that will end badly, I agree with Hyperion that I am the more dangerous of the two of us.
I could back this up with my many adventures in drunkenness, my tales of bar fights and endless psychotic romantic drama, but I think we all know that that would be unwise until I can determine the statute of limitations.
As to the Men vs. Women, I think that women just snap at a higher point, and then look out! While men will tend to bark, bark, bark, just because they can, and that provides a way to let off steam.
And Hyperion is SO lucky I've mastered some rudimentary anger management.
Hyperion: To be serious for just a moment (as I’m statutorily required to once per column), I don’t mean to trivialize all the women out there who’ve been victims of abuse at the hands of men. Men are more violent, and there is absolutely no question about that.
But to pull the question out of the abuse angle, the question of who is more dangerous—among otherwise normal people—is different. Women are generally smarter when it comes to relating to people, and they are definitely slyer and more cunning. And they are unpredictable. Everyone knows this. It is for these reasons I think women are more dangerous. As for Tracy Lynn, she’s a red head. Need I say more?
Tracy Lynn: Please don't say anymore. I'm begging you. We're ALL begging you.
Dear Hyperion and Tracy,
Your columns are too long
Signed,
Easily bored
Dear Easy,
Hyperion: Feel free to sod off and die. We provide you with entertainment and quality knowledge, for free I might add, and you have the temerity to question the manner in which we provide it? You are a cad, and I'll say good day to you, sir!
Tracy Lynn: I love it when Hypey gets all vulgar.
Dear Hyperion and Tracy,
If you were an animal, what kind of animal would you be?
Signed,
Looking for something cooler than a hamster
Dear Looking,
Tracy Lynn: I would definitely be a cat. I'm smart, independent, and cuddly, but only on my terms. And if you say one word about pussy, Hyperion, I will cut you, I swear.
Hyperion: I have no idea what you're talking about. You'll have to be more specific. Anyway, you totally ducked the question. You answered it like some email circular. Respect our readers and get into the question! If you're a cat, why? What kind of cat? Jeez, don't be such a pussy.
Tracy Lynn: First of all, you can't just pick a damn cat, they all are cool and unique. That is what makes them cats, the fact that each one has it's own personality, that they consent to live with humans without any of that master/owner crap, so that if a cat likes you, it actually is a measure of respect.
And you just couldn't help yourself, could you? You had to play the pussy card. Bastard.
Hyperion: I don’t see why I should be penalized. Women play that card all the time.
But enough about small cats (who aren’t nearly worthy of this many words). After much consideration, and seeing as how I can’t be an all-black Siberian Tiger (because Tracy Lynn would accuse me of copying her), I think I would be a grizzly bear.
I’m generally peaceful, like to eat all day and sleep most of the year, and can seem cuddly and even playful. But you get in the way of food, you mess with my family, you make me mad, and suddenly I’m the meanest, fastest, strongest beast you ever saw. I’m a monster.
By the way, Tracy Lynn is totally a Tasmanian devil.
Tracy Lynn: Oh yeah? Bears eat garbage. Suck on that, Yogi.
Hyperion: Bears only eat garbage if evil humans leave it lying around. Cats cough up their own fur, they lick themselves everywhere (who's frenching that?), they are intensely non-loyal, finicky, and without redeeming social value. They act like they own the world, demand everything, change their mind at a moment's notice, and never contribute to the household.
I guess I can see why you're a cat. Actually, I guess all women are. No wonder the similar names....
Tracy Lynn: There's not a big enough ass or hat in the world to describe you....you Asshat.
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