We Suck At Language

Now look what you did!

I doubt this is a new concept to anyone who has ever gotten a text message before (and, if you haven't, let me be the first to say, "Good morning, Mr. Van Winkle!"), but I get the impression that English speakers don't understand how to best use their own language. In reading some of the great books of the English language, I've noticed that masters of language use words as a painter would use a fine brush - to carefully mark almost imperceptible yet meaningful distinctions. Unfortunately, it seems that the bulk of the English-speaking population uses words more like a preschooler with fingerpaints and an IV full of paste.

I got to thinking about the subject of language and definition last weekend, when I sat through a performance of Little Happy Secrets, wherein the lead uttered the line, "Whoever invented the cell phone needs to be drawn and quartered." While the author narrowly avoided a major cliche by invoking the ancient act of drawing and quartering, I've heard this line and several variations so often that I don't think I ever need to hear anything beyond the line "Whoever invented..." unless the speaker actually means to PRAISE the invention - which would be a nearly revolutionary use of the phrase.

In Politics and the English Language, George Orwell condemned the use of cliches and stock phrases (like the above "Whoever invented" phrase) which "save much mental effort." Prefabricated phrases make the meaning behind the words almost impossible to determine and take nearly all the art out of speaking. The English language, with all its potential for shining beauty, is thus rendered dulled and lusterless.

Which, by the way, makes me a little embarassed to have a blog with a cliche title like "The Life and Times of S.R. Braddy." The same title formula describes biographies of everyone from Allen Ginsberg to Scrooge McDuck.

I've also reflected a bit on words that have been used so often that their meaning has been diluted. Take the word "awesome," for example. Merriam-Webster defines the word "awe" as "an emotion variously combining dread, veneration, and wonder that is inspired by authority or by the sacred or sublime." Now, with that in mind, take a look at this monolog from comedian Eddie Izzard:

The universe is "awesome" using the original version, the meaning of the word awesome, yeah? Not the new one which is sort of for socks and hot dogs: "Hey! Red and yellow - awesome! You got red and yellow socks, they're awesome!" You know... I saw an advert for 'awesome hot dogs, only $2.99'. If they were awesome you'd be going, "I can not breathe for the way the sausage is held by the bun. It is… it is speaking to me. It is saying 'we are lips and thighs... of a donkey. Please eat us... but do not think that we are lips when you eat us, otherwise you'll throw up.'" Which is true! It's awesome!

America needs the old version of awesome, because you're the only ones going into space. You've got a bit of cash and you go up there, and you need "awesome" because you're going to be going to the next sun to us. And your President's going to be going, "Can you tell me, astronaut, can you tell me what it's like?"

"It's awesome, sir."

"What, like a hot dog?"

"Like a hundred billion hot dogs, sir."

I wish we could blame the texting generation for what's happened to words which used to be full of meaning, but I'm pretty sure my generation (also known as the "Ninja Turtle Generation") must shoulder most of the blame for this decidedly un-bodacious turn of events.

Cowabunga.

Ironically, the trend of shortening words that dominates text messages may actually save the language in some respects. The word "love," for example, now looks a bit like a bruised apple in normal conversation. In texting, the word "love" is often abbreviated as the symbol "<3" which has in turn been converted to the unusual verb "heart," as in "Oh Em Gee I Heart You Lawl." In my normal foul temper I'd be inclined to condemn this practice as vapid and shallow; however, that very negative association could actually save the word "love" from falling into the same void of meaning where we now find "awesome." See, I may not know how I feel when someone says, "I love you": should I be worried that I don't reciprocate their deep and profound feelings or offended that they esteem me as much as their favorite Beefy Cheese Burrito? On the other hand, I know EXACTLY how to respond to "I heart you."

It'd be difficult to demand that EVERYONE carry a pocket dictionary and refer to it repeatedly during conversation - but that won't stop me from trying. At the very least, I hope we all can be a little more aware of what the words we say actually mean. George Orwell and I both thank you.