Alphabet soup can be a warm, soothing treat on a brisk, cold day. However, what happens if your soup suddenly turns on you with a linguistic assault? Here are some tips to make sure your alphabet soup watches its language.
Start the conversation while the soup is still in the can. You can’t begin to stress early enough that bad language will not be tolerated in your kitchen or at the dining table. Remind the soup that there’s no place in your digestive tract for abrasive words.
Shake the can before heating. If nothing else, you’ll feel better.
Separate the talkative letters. Break up those cliques before they have a chance to act out. If they gang up and start yelling (example: AAAAAAAA), gently coax them to other areas of the bowl with a spoon. Re-heat to a low boil if they insist on remaining stuck to each other.
If you notice a repeated pattern of certain diabolical words or phrases, step away from the soup, leave the house immediately, and consult a priest. Or the Ghostbusters. (They’re ready to believe you.)
You know, vegetable soup tastes pretty good, and it’s good for you. Try that.
I was plucking my eyebrows a few days ago when I had two thoughts: 1) ouch, it still hurts to do this, and 2) the VERY FIRST time I did this, it took about three hours because I was eighteen years old, ignorant about a lot of beauty-related things, and, as a result, was dangerously close to having a unibrow.
(Okay, those were several thoughts. Sorry about the math skills.)
Anyway, it’s never been much fun and it almost always makes me sneeze to tweeze. Guess the follicles are connected to my sneezer switch or something.
Anyway, anyway—back to one of those thoughts. I was thinking about the VERY FIRST time I plucked my eyebrows.
Does anyone ever call a “second something” the VERY SECOND instance? You rarely hear the word “very” as a modifier of “second” in that context.
Language study time. Do you think that at the second performance of the 1812 Overture, it was introduced with the word “very” in front of “second”? (They’d most likely have been speaking Russian, so just pretend they spoke English to make this easier.)
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the VERY SECOND performance of Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture!”
If you’d been in the audience (and if you’re reading this, I’m assuming you weren’t, because it was a long time ago and if you are still alive and remember the performance with any degree of clarity, you need to call a medical research facility pronto because they’ll want to run a few tests for everyone’s benefit here—have someone show you how to use a phone), you’d probably have heard something more like this:
“Tonight the orchestra will be playing the second performance of the new 1812 Overture by Tchaikovsky. Please express your final wishes to your families now in the event that you are injured by the cannons.”
Seems like everything that happens the first time is expressed as the VERY first time.
“Oh, look! He’s taking his VERY first steps!”
“She just lost her VERY first tooth!”
“We just went to her VERY first graduation! Preschool! We only have thirteen more of these to go before she actually earns a real diploma!”
The only times you ever hear “very second” is when someone is referring to a minute unit of time. (Minute? See what I did there? Haha, yeah…at least I thought it was funny.)
“The very second he jumped out of the plane, he wished he hadn’t.”
“They timed that race down to the very second.”
No one ever says, “You remember the very second time we went to that new barbecue joint?”
Of course they don’t! If the trip was memorable for some reason, they’d just say, “You remember the second time we went to that new barbecue joint?”
“Very” is an interesting modifier that writers are told to use very, very sparingly.
Just something to think about the next time you talk about a very first…or second.
Today, July 17, is World Emoji Day. (They have a day for everything.)
As far as I’m concerned, emojis represent another subtle step in the decline of language. Granted, had the ancient Egyptians not taken what was then a big leap forward and used their own form of emojis back in the day, written language as we know it might not have evolved to a more sophisticated state.
However, emojis–little characters on a screen–seem to possess enormous power among younger generations. More so than written language itself.
I’m sure you can find entire articles about how poorly-placed emojis ruined (fragile) relationships. Relationships rooted deeply in love, trust, understanding, and texts. Relationships in which the two parties had never actually spoken to each other…
My true love is, apparently, written language. I love to paint a picture with words, and I’m in awe of those who can do it beautifully. Words are powerful, and sometimes I fear that they are slipping away with each new generation.
That’s not to say I never use emojis.
Discovering how many emojis these here phones actually have. 🚣🏻🍞😜🚃🇺🇸📎#SuchANerd
They can add a nice touch to a text, since texts sometimes can be misconstrued. (See also: sarcasm.) I still contend that if it’s something terribly important, you should use the actual phone or meet in person. However, a quick message or request or simple “hello” can be accented nicely by the emoji of your choice.
World Emoji Day. Definitely a smiley-faced sign of the times.