I keep seeing this word on Twitter. Priberam says:
cha·lu·pa (francês chaloupe)
1. [Náutica] Embarcação de um só mastro para cabotagem.
2. [Náutica] Barco de vela e remos.
3. [Jogos] Conjunto das cartas de maior valor no jogo do voltarete.
4. [Informal] [Vestuário] Bota grosseira. (Mais usado no plural.)
adjectivo de dois géneros e nome de dois géneros
5. [Portugal, Informal, Depreciativo] Que ou quem perdeu a razão ou tem distúrbios mentais (ex.: o velho já estava chalupa; estes chalupas só dizem disparates). = ADOIDADO, AMALUCADO, LOUCO, MALUCO
"chalupa", in Dicionário Priberam da Língua Portuguesa [em linha], 2008-2021 [consultado em 29-09-2021]
I think the fifth definition is the key one: basically, it’s a nutcase, a crank, a wingnut. It’s been used a lot in relation to people who think the vaccine is going to turn them into a gay frog, or whatever. I don’t really understand how it came to mean that though, given that the standard meanings all seem completely unrelated. Hi ho. It’s definitely worth putting in the word-hoard though, if you are planning to be on social media.
Every year it’s the same thing: as soon as the 21st of September is over the shops fill up with Day-to-Wake-that-guy-from-Green-Day cards.
Allow me to overexplain.
Obviously to understand it, you need to understand the cultural reference points: firstly that shops always start advertising Christmas merch as soon as Halloween is over (a pretty common trope in the UK) and secondly that there are running gags on twitter based around dates mentioned in songs: the twenty first night of September (because of Earth Wind and Fire’s song “September”) and the end of September (because of Green Day’s song “Wake Me Up When September Ends”). But I think even someone who knows all those things will find the magic broken if the grammar is off or the word order less than perfect. “Todos os anos a mesma coisa acontece” seems like a wordy, clunky way of saying “Every year it’s the same thing” and I’m sure it’ll come across as a bit off. And “ficam cheia de…” Does that sound like something a real Portuguese person would say? “as (prateleiras das) lojas enchem-se”? I dunno.
Well, I put it in the WritestreakPT forum and got a verdict from dani_morgenstern
Firstly, no the word structure is off. A better rendering would be
Todos os anos é a mesma coisa: assim que acaba o Dia 21 De Setembro às lojas ficam cheias de cartões do dia de Acordar Aquele Gajo dos Green Day
I chose to capitalise the whole of “Dia 21 De Setembro” as if it were a special day but setembro, like all months, is supposed to be in lower case.
As for cards, no, cards aren’t really a thing. I should have known that. I was so fixated on the timing that I didn’t stop to think about the more fundamental problem. D’oh!
The rest…. Well, you either know the songs or you don’t but I suspect a lot of people were pretty non-plussed. I was reminded that we should just let Billy Joe Armstrong rest because that Green Day song is about the death of his father but I never let respect for the dead stand in the way of a joke even if that joke is a grammatical and cultural train wreck.
Anyway, all in all, not a successful joke but a good learning experience, and that’s the whole idea, after all!
By the way, the tweet it’s quoting is in Brazilian Portuguese. “O carinha” looks weird but they use “cara” (“face”) to mean “guy” so carinha is just “the little guy”
The structure of the joke is borrowed from O Caderno Das Piadas Secas. It’s equivalent to the “What do you call a….” format in English. What I’m trying to say – and I’ve no idea if it works – is “4 militants killed in a shipwreck caused by a bazooka being fired by mistake. What’s the country?” and then the punchline is Afogarnistão (Afeganistão =Afghanistan obviously and afogar =drown)
I’ve found myself getting a bit more feminist lately. I have tended to be a bit dismissive of some claims of 21st-century feminism, to the point of wondering whether the word had outlived its usefulness, but have been energised lately by… well, it’s a long story. Suffice to say that having a daughter makes you want to punch more misogynists in the balls. I am all about the punching. I’m a regular Jean-Claude Van Dad.
Anyway, representation in comedy is not one of my main avenues of interest, but I was struck by this tweet earlier today, by Safaa Dib, who I know nothing about but seems to be a publisher and a candidate in a sort of left-green party called Partido Livre. She posted about the Festival de Humor, FamousFest 18. You can see why she was annoyed from the picture below. Literally not one single woman in the line-up. I know 6 of the names and 2 of those are not even comedians. Miquel Esteves Cardoso is a columnist and writer, and Filipe Melo is a producer and a graphic novelist. She doesn’t seem wildly impressed with some of the others either, judging by the comments.
If you click through to the thread, Guilherme Duarte, a comedian who uses the name Por Falar Noutra Coisa chips in and says a couple of women were invited but declined. Hm… well, fair enough up to a point… but then goes on to say (and this is less fair enough) that he didn’t want to have a quota system at the expense of quality (gasp… but wait, it gets worse…) that work was needed in the background to encourage women to try and be funny instead of making makeup tutorials. He salvages this mess of a tweet to some extent but not much. I was left with the impression that the scene is even more of a boy’s club than here.
A @gaitadaria já chamou a atenção p/ isto, mas confesso que só agora realmente prestei atenção ao espreitar site do Festival de Humor de Lx. Não há mulheres comediantes, a julgar pelo cartaz. Mas homens sem piada há muitos e isso nunca os impediu de ter carreira #MulherNãoEntrapic.twitter.com/jeFLbGy4rp