RIPOSTE
by RIP RENSE |
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LINGO CZAR IS GOOD TO GO
Sept. 10, 2009
The
Lingo Czar is back from, among other things: a visit
to the ER for an exploded shoulder (my, that Dilaudid was
good!), five weeks with no use of the right arm, a month-long
virus that turned sinus cavity and sleep mechanism into a
carnival, a vacation that necessitated a good deal of Xanax,
and, of course, the usual disgust with humanity and its inane
use of language. To say that
His
Wordliness is happy to be back is not exactly accurate, but
niceties of some sort seem requisite here.
Has it been a year? Seems
like only yesterday.
So. . .
Citizens are hereby
advised to stop using the following insipid American slang,
buzz-words, e-mail patois, virulent clichés, and peer-enforced
coolspeak inculcating media-softened brains. They are rated "T"
(trite), "A" (asinine), "P" (pretentious), "W" (whoops!) and
"CP" (criminally prosecutable, with recommended minimum
punishment of one day of self-imposed silence.)
THISHYEAR/LASHTYEAR---Now, affectations come and
affectations go (and I wish they would.) Especially among the
most affected of all deliverers of spoken English, TeeVee
Newsmannequins. Just they way they shout certain words as if
talking to kindergarteners is impressive enough. Imagine if
everyone began speaking this way to one another. “How’s it GO-ING?”
“I saw a NEW Honda Insight YESTERDAY on WILSHIRE.” (Nodding and
shaking head for emphasis.) Sheesh. And all those feral-Americans
feared Obama hypnotizing their children. . .Well, anyhow,
this is to focus on the latest shtupid shtylistic virus to infect
the tongues/teeth/lips of Newsmannequins, which is “thishyear”
and “lashtyear.” Gone is the division between the words, for
starters, but also dispensed with is the clear “s” sound in good
ol’ “this.” Somehow, an “h” is being added just before “year.”
No, Your Verbalaciousness cannot explain. It would take a
linguist to accomplish that. Or, as a Newsmannequin might
pronounce it, a “linguisht.” (The Rip Post resident linguist
explains that this phenomenon probably qualifies as
“anticipatory assimilation,” “sh” being more palatal than “s”
before “y.” Got it?) Why has this caught on like Swine Flu? Your
guessh ish as good ash mine. Here’s hoping it’s gone by
nexshtyear. A, W, CP.
LOL---I know, I know. It’s so ingrained and
imbedded in discourse as to be impossible to extricate. Like
Glenn Beck’s head from his ass. But Your Syntactical Majesty
loves to lean diagonally in the direction of windmills.
Somebody’s got to do it. So this is to wish that LOL would go
AWOL. Permanently. Either that, or people should just begin
saying LOL in addition to typing it. You know, when someone
tells you that old joke about the grasshopper in the bar---where
the drunk looks at him, and says, “Say, buddy, you know they’ve
got a drink named after you?” and the grasshopper responds, “Oh,
really? Irving?”---just say “LOL.” It’s so much easier than
mustering the energy to laugh out loud (you don’t want to spoil
that
sexy fast-food-grown gut by exercising those diaphragm
muscles, do you?) Or you could employ it derisively,
sarcastically invoking it to goad the annoying. Someone gives
you the finger in traffic? Yell, “LOL!” Yes, it could get you
shot, but is more likely to engender confusion, and buy you
enough time to escape before fellow citizen draws his or her
gun. And hey, why not just extend this to all cyber-speak? Start
speaking cyber-speak instead of writing it! Soon it will be
declared a dialect, if it hasn’t been already. Like Ebonics.
Graduate students will write dissertations on it---and in
it---and can a Cyberspeak major be far off? Hmm. Really, that’s
no LOLing matter. . .T, A, CP.
PEEPS---As in “my people,” as in “You’re one of my
peeps.” Has everyone turned into cheap Easter candy? Let the
Czar confess here and now: he never aspired to be a “peep,” let
alone one of “your peeps.” There are peeps, er, people, it
seems, who just absolutely thrive on employing every single
little bit of slang they can sling, as if this somehow endears.
Uh-Uh. Just makes them hard to endure. These peeps might not be
creeps---might be perfectly nice peeps---but they poison their
chances of being taken seriously by employing such annoying
patois. Not since white people began talking about “the ‘hood”
has the Czar been so peeved. Stop peeping. A.
JUST SAYIN’---What are you just saying? Huh? Hm?
What? “I’m just saying. . .” just litters comments sections
throughout cyberspace, and has crept into mainstream media commentary.
Formerly a conversational rejoinder implying (however
disingenuously) that one is not making a strong statement of
policy, but merely pointing out an aspect of an issue, this cliched blubber is now part of written blabber. While it is a
great thing to be able to write as one speaks, thus making
syntax easy on the mental ear, it can be taken too far. Hell, it
has long since been taken too far. You read op-ed pieces---and
fiction, for that matter---that come across like some overgrown
high school girl’s blog. Come to think of it, overgrown high
school girl blogs are pretty
hot property
these days. I’m just saying. T, A, CP.
TRACTION---The Czar believes that all comments
sections from all websites---from the entire Internet,
really---should be eliminated. This will enable many Americans
to go back to whittling, incest and moonshine. He also believes
that television should be reduced to five hours per day, three
hours of which are taken up with old cartoons and animal
documentaries, and that in the remaining two, only fifteen
minutes of commentary be allowed. This would, among other
things, eliminate the 24-hour media avalanche that teaches
everyone that everything that has no direct bearing on their
daily life. . .has a direct bearing on their daily life. No more
nightmares about genocide in Darfur! No more worry about tidal
waves in Indonesia! Why, people might start reading books again,
talking to their children, planting gardens, shaving. Of course,
this would be bad news for the pharmaceuticals that manufacture
anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medication, but hell, they can
self-medicate on all the unsold stock. It would also result in a
great culling of TeeVee Newsmannequins, something the country
desperately needs. Thus Diane Sawyer and Wolf Blitzer could find
more honest and rewarding work, such as
driving buses or trash trucks. And this would all but eliminate
the terrible phenomenon of TeeVee Newsspeak, in which all manner
of dopey cliché and buzzword spreads from channel to channel
like Santa Ana wind-fed flames from pine to Angeles National Forest
pine. And one such buzzword would be “traction,” as in “This
story is gaining traction, Anderson. . .” As if news is a game
to be handicapped, a gossipy horserace. Ever wonder why a story
gains “traction?” Could it be that it’s because lots and lots of Newsmannequins keep talking about it? And is that because they
are afraid that if they don’t keep talking about it, somebody
else will, and steal their ratings? So the people who are giving
the stories “traction” are often. . .the people reporting the
stories in the first place. Yes, the snake eats itself! T, A,
P, CP.
PRESSER---Once again, the lowly TeeVee
Newsmannequin offends! For years and years, TeeVee “reporters”
(calling a television journalist a reporter is like calling
Danielle Steele a writer) have sought to appear vital, cool,
important by using inside terminology on the air. One of the
landmark such instances was when they appropriated the police
idiom, “shooter” (for “suspect,” “assailant,” etc.), practically
en masse. Always with melodramatic tone and importantly arched
eyebrows. Oooo---how noir! They spoke
that clinical Mickey Spillane-type cop lingo! And Newsmannequins,
of course, love to use TeeVee terms on the air, to show how
inside they are, and impress the rubes (as in “toss,”
“bumpers.”) Now they have suddenly begun spouting “presser” (for
“press conference”) as if this is the hallowed, tried-and-true
label---not an abbreviation used in morning staff meetings.
Everybody is giving “pressers,” suddenly. Ooooo! Thanks for
letting us into your neato-keeno inside world, Newsmannequin! A, P,
CP.
POSTPARTISANSHIP---Yes, the Czar has actually seen
this in print, and assumes it must now be spreading like Oprah’s
thighs. As with many words to which “post” has been affixed,
this is a meaningless expression given weight by virtue of mass
adoption by Punditmannequins. The “postpartisan
era” joins “postracial America” and other such bits of
contrivance that help make up the verbal arsenal of columnists
and gumflappers galore. By inventing and employing these terms,
the Punditmannequins make them seem real. It’s almost like there
is collusion to create notions, concepts, ideas that have no
substance---but sound hifalutin’---then tacitly agree to use
them ad nauseum. After all, it’s difficult to pontificate for a
living, and you need all the false intellectual conceits you can
muster. There is no “postracial America,” and there never will
be, at least not until intermarriage so blurs racial definitions
that everyone is the same shade of burnt sienna. There is no “postpartisanship,”
and never will be, because it is against human nature to not be
partisan. But such terms have a wonderful, if unintentional use.
When you read them in a column, or hear them from the lips of a
commentator, you may regard this as a signal to utterly ignore
anything else this commentator is saying. The finest use of
“post,” of course, may be found at the top of this website.
A, P.
PASSED---Rejoice! No one dies anymore! Now,
everyone. . .passes. She passed this morning. What time did
Michael Jackson pass? I’m afraid that I have bad news---your
father has passed. Passed? Passed what? Passed out? Passed gas?
This is the only expression you now hear---again from ye olde
Newsmannequins---for dying, always delivered with a quiet, sober
tone, and slightly knitted eyebrows. It’s like “warm.” Have you
noticed that the weather is almost never, never “hot” anymore?
Weathermannequins will use the “h” word only when things are
over 100 for several days on end. Why? People don’t want bad
news! So the
Weathermannequins have all been taught to frown
sympathetically and tell you that the “warm weather will
continue,” as you sit nearly naked in your habitation box,
drenched, humidity coalescing and running down the walls around
you. Screw ‘em! And screw those Newsmannequins who affect the
tone of morticians as they announce that someone has croaked,
kicked the bucket, shuffled off this mortal coil, cashed in
his/her chips, is pushing up parsley, shaking hands with the old
groundhog, turning into fettucine-al-dead-o. . .by using
“passed.” Urp. A, P.
EVERYTHING HAPPENS FOR A REASON---Forgive the
Czar’s lack of subtletly here. This is the most dirt-stupid
dumbass airhead drooling tongue-lolling piece of idiotic
phraseology currently palavered. It often, but by no means
always, emanates through the glazed smiles of so-called
Christians and other adherents to religious fairy tales. It
suggests that every event, though usually negative ones, occurs
because it are part of “God’s plan,” or a generalized cosmic
working order, that will lead one to some logical, if not epiphanal, resolution. Truck ran over your toes? Happened for a
reason! Someone stole your bank account and your house burned
down? Happened for a reason! Hair began growing uncontrollably
on your kneecaps? Happened for a reason! Here is some
information for you, take it or leave it: as W. C. Fields said
in “The Man on the Flying Trapeze,” “Things happened.” That’s
it. Things happen. Stars explode, galaxies melt, the universe
expands, toilets get stuck. What your little brain does with
events, or about them, is a privilege of existing as a human
with free will. If you wish to attach a reason, or see logic in
random occurrences, bon apetit! And if you wish to chirp,
“Everything happens for a reason,” like some hotel desk clerk
saying “Have a nice day!” have a grand time. But if you are now
having the slightest doubts about the veracity of that
assertion, you are ready to try to understand that everything is
chaos, and chaos is everything, and that chaos is a form of
order. Want to know what the great logical order of the cosmos
looks like?
Here you go! And the next time you hear of a friend
committing suicide because of horrific events in his or her
life, or some poor damn kid getting blown away in a drive-by
shooting, please do not say “Everything happens for a reason,” at
least not in hearing distance of The Czar. T, A, CP.
GOOD TO GO---Oh, where did this come from, and how
did it overnight come to be reflexively spoken by every
waiter/hotel clerk/service industry employee on earth? No, sir,
you’re good to go! Right, that does it, you’re. . .good to go!
We’re good to go! Sounds all nifty, spiffy, and wrapped up
tight, doesn’t it? But. . .go where? How good are you? What’s so
good about going? Is there such a thing as being bad to go? Or
good to stop? A.
THE NEW---Seventy is the new fifty, fifty is the
new thirty, power Yoga is the new Pilates, green tea is the new
coffee, vampires are the new Harry Potter, pale is the new tan,
rabbits are the new cats. I simply turn to the late Peter Allen,
who wrote and sang, “When trumpets were mellow/ And every gal
only had one fellow/ No need to remember when/
'Cause
everything old is new again. . .” A.
Okay, peeps, you're good to go. Have an LOL lingo day.
THE DEPARTMENT OF LINGOLAND SECURITY
PRESENTS:
BAD WORDS, A LINGO LEXICON.
NOW AVAILABLE AT THE RIP POST EMPORIUM.
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