Irony is fun – but only when people “get it”.
Herein lies a problem I’d like to address here and now. Trendy articles of language are a fantastic means to foster your ironic style; but if you’re chronically sardonic like myself, then that means you may employ the genre of words-born-on-the-web terminology a good deal. And that means those who don’t know you, can’t literally hear the sludgy sarcasm dripping in all its viscous glory from your tongue in your writings. And they might misinterpret your use of the god-awful catchphrases (like that one that started off as a mental flatulent passed mindlessly on someone’s Vine, and then snowballed its way into our culture as a “thing” once Jenna Marbles had reiterated it in a Latina accent) and think you’re serious.
Unfortunately, “fetch” did happen.
It happened as “fleek”.
It was this randomly constructed, improvised synonym for “on point”. And while I give props to the innovator him/herself for being able to command that much power over other people, the uses of it by said people afterward were akin to that “Brain Games” experiment where about 50 randos stood in line, did the congo, and hopscotched one after the other – all ‘cause they were following one undercover actor doing it. (Although there were variables in that – it was Vegas, they were drunk, and at least some cameras were visibly present which attention whores love). Mhmm…So what’s *your* excuse for playing follow the leader, Ashley? Irony and writing. Being ironic is just a fun way to interact – both in real life and writing. People want an excuse to laugh unless they’re just assholes, so why not lubricate a case of the social awkwards with an icebreaker of ridiculousness? But I generally keep the trend-word use to writing only – unless I see a really good opportunity to induce laughter with it when I’m actually face-to-facing with someone. Much like you wouldn’t read a private love letter out loud, no one wants to hear “IRL” IRL. Would you say “LOL” O-L? No. You’d just chuckle. The irony exception here? That this would make for exemplary irony if issued in monotone after somebody said something un-funny and you just couldn’t bring yourself to issue a consolation chuckle.
So, here’s my diction disclaimer now: All non f’real English words I’ve made up, that others have made up, which I use in writing or reality – including all usages of “bae” in present, past, and future instances – are purely ironic devices that serve the purpose of comical inter-conversational and/or literary flow and connection to my decade younger readers, that they may come to understand these very important
incoherent ramblings life messages I’m destined to convey to them. And if you want to point the finger of blame, please direct it to the likes of our cultural cancer’s vlog gods and their metastasis of tumorous terms.
In fact, I think I see a solution here.
(Always looking for solutions, yes?)
Between Vine and Youtube creating a good deal of these terms viewers accept as word-gospel, I feel like they should make something called the “victionary”. The “v” can stand for “vlog” (or “viral” – whatever you like) and it’ll include all the fiction-diction that’s been said by self-recorded self-proclaimed internet celebs. And then people who non-ironically adhere to this language in everyday life (it’s far more painful on the ears than the eyes), can all read and study this book from inside a compound for the like-minded on exile island. Because I’m kind and generous, they can even ride there on my aircraft I’ve lovingly dubbed Enola Gay. BTDubz, she’ll be back around to make a “supplies” drop off once you’re all present, accounted for and audibly saying things like “BTDubz”.
And random nouns followed by “tho”.
Using this many Webster rejected words in one post makes me kinda wish I were in that house, too.