Text language gives slang a bad name
Editor
ashrodes@wccnet.edu I always thought English was the only language I would need to function in modern society. Sure, Spanish, French or Chinese could help. But thorough knowledge of the Merriam-Webster — that’s key. Boy, was I wrong. As text messaging, or “texting” as most call it, skyrockets in communication popularity, it has developed a language of its own. And I am quite illiterate. Text language, also known as SMS, chatspeak, or (my favorite) textese, is most often shortened words, or letters combined with numbers to form meaning or acronyms of some sort. Simple enough. But though I make it a habit to adopt superfluous dictionary terms, I refuse to learn almost any text terms outside of “LOL” and “OMG.” My mind just won’t do it. But text language is becoming a necessary and assumed knowledge. No one asks me if I know textese before sending an incomprehensible message full of what looks like toddler babble and computer codes. Thank the Internet for its online slang dictionaries. I just need rush to an open computer and search “DBEYR” and “Obv” to translate that all-important text: “Don’t believe everything you read, that’s obvious.” Even when textese starts migrating to chat rooms, blog entries and social networking posts — quite unnecessarily I may add — I have search-engine access to decipher meaning so I don’t blindly respond. My mind still refuses to pick up diction intended for computer hard drives, so I know I’m looking up the same terms over and over, but at least I can do so. The problem is that text language has traveled from text to tongue as people use it in regular speech more and more often. I can’t exactly search urbandictionary.com before responding to a quick question or an offhand remark. So I’m stuck saying “hmmmm” while I try to figure out what “IDK about that SOB” is supposed to mean. I’ve taken to perusing texting dictionary sites in free moments trying to pick up popular terms, but to no avail. And text language, for all the effort it takes, adds no interest to common language. It’s boring. Insipid. Mundane. But what I have found in online dictionaries is a wealth of compelling new-age slang. Words that could actually add some interest to my speech patterns. Just check out the “A” entries at slangsite.com and you’ll find a Baskin-Robbins-worthy selection of flavors. In the mood for a capitulation with some attitude? May I suggest “aaiight!” which slangsite defines as an “All right” to use in times of “intense emotion” and illustrates with an amusing dialogue. “Dad: Son, get in there and clean your room. Son: Aaiight!” Or perhaps you might be interested in a fantastically pragmatic word-merge: “accipurpodentally,” which slangsite defines as something done on purpose but made to look like an accident. Use it in the phrase, “I accipurpodentally lost her iPod in my drawer.” Against stylin’ word amalgamations? Then you might get “all flurbudgeoned” when I say you’re just “analog” (you might get agitated and confused when I call you old -fashioned). But the truth is, as much as I’d like to incorporate these new locutions into my everyday speech, I’m analog too. I can’t even say “rad” or “peace” without feeling like a want-to-be hipster. I’ll just have to dazzle with Merriam-Webster and her time-honored expressions. I’m audi. Out? L8r? (Nope. I can’t pull it off.)
