In Defense Of Language

Alright. I can't stand it any more. And I know I'm not the only one. What's with the epidemic misuse of the word "literally"? And perhaps more importantly, why do people feel such a need to EMPHASIZE whatever it is they're saying that they commit this semantic crime with such alarming frequency ? Is the rampant misunderstood overuse of this word in conversation a sign- well, obviously, that lots of folks just don't understand the meaning of the word- but more, yet another sign that we are hungering for the personal recognition that is increasingly rare as we continue to over- connect to the internet, the Wii, the Blackberry, and disconnect from our humanity? (Also, there's just way too many people in the world; it's becoming harder and harder to stand out.) We crave validation, that's no secret. When you tell a story, relate an anecdote, it's natural to desire feedback from your audience as in eye contact, a nod, the utterance of "uh-huh" and so on. The better you are at embellishing your anecdotes, the better chance that people will respond to you, which is, let's face it, what we all want: for others to pay attention to us. So my theory is that misuse of 'literally' is a result of attempting to distinguish one's self from the crowd. 'Punching it up' so to speak. Some would say it's our increasing obsession with fame that's driving it. I prefer to be more empathetic and say it's our innate our need to stand out, but in any case this crime does seem to be especially common among t.v. reality-show participants as they struggle for camera time in their inane encapsulations of 'what went down last night', etc. It's no news flash that the ubiquitous presence of these programs is influencing how we speak, dumbing us down. It's an easy embellishment to stick "literally" in there when describing something, sort of like those sticky-backed ribbon roses you slap on a gift when one is otherwise, like me, 'ribbon challenged'. Convenient flourish, but one can become dependent on them and then they lose their specialness. Let's face it; "literally" has become a crutch. It's boring. Now, with rare exception, when I hear someone start to say "I mean he was LITERALLY..." etcetera, I take that as my cue to go to sleep. Mouth wide open. Head back. Sawing logs. Haw-shewwww, haw-shewwww.
When over-dependence on a particular word or phrase becomes a substitute for compelling exposition,thoughtful language, just good storytelling, it's time for assholes like me to bring the hammer down. Please,people, just be more mindful. If it is true attention you seek, then more thoughtful discourse, less prattle. Wake me when it's funny.
Also, while I'm at it: Regime and regimen. Please figure out the difference. One is a mode of rule or form of government. The other is a systematic plan or course of action as in training, diet, or exercise. Yes, they are both rooted in the same word-the medieval Latin 'regimin'- but they have evolved over many years to two distinct words with decidedly different meanings. If I hear one more person refer to their 'spa regime', I'm going to gnaw my arm off.

P.S. It has occurred to me that perhaps I myself am overly dependent on commas in my writing. I'm a comma mama. Not as severe a crime, mind you, but something I will examine. And on a separate but related note, I have a whole defense for the use of 'like' and 'he's all...', 'she's all...' etc. which I may address at later date.

Chaos Theory

"Monkey mind", in case you haven't heard that phrase, is an idea used in Buhddism referring to the over-analyzing, ruminating, basically unquiet state we thinkers often feel trapped in. It's the idea that when one is feeling chaotic,unable to quiet the mind, it is as if you (your mind) are a crazy zany monkey who is running around, up and down trees, swinging from vines, pointlessly scratching yourself, flinging your feces, shrieking and ooohging and uaaaghing, recklessly peeling banana after banana,wolfing down some and tossing others on the ground... Just hyper and in the basest way, an animal. Monkey mind. I love that term.
Why, WHY am I so chaotic? Just one example: I often find myself racing back and forth through the house scribbling words down on Post-Its and dry erase boards and regular old paper in an attempt to catch all my ideas as they tumble out of my head. I am driven by the idea that if I can corral them I will become more organized, not only in my everyday task-driven life, but in my creative life as well, and therefore more serene. But just exactly how helpful or calming is it to have various scraps of paper lodged everywhere- in the house, in the car, inside my day planner; I mean, the day planner is actually stuffed with lists of lists-when I, Hyper McSpazzy, am spinning all around,tripping over piles of paper, spilling my juice, and banging my head on open cupboard doors in my attempts to jot the ideas down? I woke up the other morning with a crumpled Post-It note stuck to my face. Silly monkey mind- that is what meditation is for! And perhaps blogging as well...

Thoughts On Race

Our new president is already rocking my world with his quiet resolve: closing Guantanamo- CHECK! Unconscionable lobbying practices off the table-CHECK! He somehow manages to seem at once so sure, serene AND self-effacing, a combination I personally adore in a human being but certainly never expected to see in any PRESIDENT of ours. I am still pinching myself over this whole amazing turn of events. I by no means will wear the rose-colored glasses for too long, but must bask in the afterglow as long as I can get away with it. Particularly in the liberal bastion where I live, everyone was walking on air Tuesday. As we witnessed the emotion of the crowds on the National Mall,the inauguration ceremony itself, and of course his brave and riveting speech, you'd have to have a heart of stone not to swell with pride and awe. I am also just so happy for all the black people! I went to elementary school in Berkley in the early '70's where I was fortunate to have had a thorough,unsparing year-long Black Studies section as part of my required curriculum in fourth grade. Naturally, about half my classmates were black, and I had several close black friends, and even though sadly I never lived in such a racially diverse community after that, I am proud that time profoundly help shape the me I turned out to be. As great as I hope Obama turns out to be as a president, I mostly am just so moved that America pulled this off. The faces of the people on television on Tuesday just slayed me.
I have to remind myself all the time that because of where I live, how relatively insulated I am from the racial tension that is still sadly commonplace in our society. I was struck today, while many of us are still in the throes of our Obama-reverie, as I gassed up my car and encountered a hulking sad-sack of a guy dressed in a camo sweatshirt and grimy sagging jeans inside the mini-mart giving a hearty dose of shit to the middle eastern clerk. I initially only observed that he was loudly rude and snippy with the clerk, and shrugged it off to your everyday run-of-the-mill grumpy bad vibes that many folks seem to feel entitled to dole out to strangers at will these days.
But when I went outside to pump my gas I overheard him (or I should say, plain-old heard, as he was not making an effort to conceal his rancor) saying, "god-damned bastard, doesn't even speak English!...grrr, mrrrmm, fucking people come to this country...rar, rar, rar"... you get the picture. Call me naive, but I thought it was weird particularly because the clerk's English was actually exemplary, contrary to what is often encountered in these instances. (Also, it's actually unusual to come across middle eastern people where I live.) But of course I realized that's not the point at all when Camo McAsshole and I both ended up back inside the store at the same time, and there was actually then a BLACK guy in there too, which you REALLY hardly ever see around here! If it hadn't been so tense, it would have been funny. Camo was back at it; continuing to hassle the clerk while the black dude stood a safe distance away wearing an uncomfortable disbelieving expression. I just never see shit like this. Blew my mind. Ironically, right after that, I was going to see the film "Gran Torino" which underscores so especially poignantly the race/ethnicity/ immigration issue in this country. It was hard to watch, but such a beautifully rendered message. What an interesting day for me to have during this historic week in which we inaugurated the first African-American president and some of the wounds of the past seem to have a chance at healing.
I really don't get it; why can't we all just get along?

Just warming up...

From my house on any given evening I can hear the roaring ocean, barking sea lions, the buoy and foghorn, shrieking hawks, frogs, owls, crickets, the neighbor's dogs yipping and howling, cars and trucks speeding by out on the road and the far off sound of traffic clacketting along the uneven pavement of the quavering bridge. That's any old night around here; a soothing aural elixir. It can become more cacophonous, dramatic, sometimes unsettling- depending on the weather, wildlife migration patterns, and the level of domestic drama taking place in nearby homes- but I try to never forget how lucky I am to be in this rural paradise. Except, on those winter nights when I lie stiffly awake, saucer-eyed and insomniac with fear that the house will collapse in the next howling gust of wind.
Tonight is oddly warm; quiet except the few tentative crickets shocked out of their winter slumber...
Goodnight giant moon...

Wait, must clean up dog vomit.

Livin' the dream!