Archives for the month of: January, 2011

It’s the sheer unrelenting uninventiveness of jargon that gets me.

The way a new word or phrase sweeps through society like a tsunami or, to use an example, “goes viral.”

A closer examination of these bits of jargon reveals metaphors that are born one day and, like flies, die that same day, as dead metaphors, though they live on and are used.

So, then, “going viral.”

A YouTube post can go viral when everyone clicks on the Internet site.

A phrase itself, like “going viral,” can go viral when everyone, suddenly, starts seeing it in print. (Do we read print anymore? Print not produced by texting?)

Yes, the metaphor, originally striking and original, dies almost immediately, becomes a dead metaphor, for few people recognize it any more as a metaphor, a simile or comparison. It’s just words, dead words, dead flies, detritus that piles up and connects us to each other in a kind of disease or diseased network.

If a bit of language, or a video, goes viral, isn’t it by definition virulent? Doesn’t it, like a virus, have the power to spread rapidly — but also to infect?

If we are infected by this virus, then aren’t we too sick?

And if we use the phrase or video, aren’t we spreading the disease?

We don’t have to be high priests of language, purists, “gloomy grammarian in …  golden gowns” (thanks, Wallace Stevens), to realize that unconscious use of language makes us susceptible to all sorts of diseases. We spread the germs. We don’t realize we’re ailing. We don’t realize we’re being overtaken by these germs, even as we do their bidding, willy-nilly, the way an HIV-positive person may succumb to the virus.

If we must go viral, can we develop some consciousness of our predicament?

So that we don’t spread the jargon, the cliches, the disease indiscriminately?

(For a good example of viral hype, see BuzzFeed, the kind of contemptible tripe we’re all too used to in the infotainment sphere. For a quick consideration of how jargon corrupts, see “What Is Your Gibberish Component?”)

No, I don’t mean plastic as in plastic injection moldings.

I mean plastic as in flexible, formable, changeable, for sure.

If we led our lives according to the dictates of Big Brother, as in George Orwell’s 1984, there would be just one word for every idea. No synonyms, no nuances, no near-hits and near-misses. There would be “faith” for faith, “hope” for hope, and “charity” for charity.

There would be no

  • Loyalty, creed, credence, belief, longing
  • Desire, expectation, trust, confidence, reliance, assurance, security, or bright blue sky
  • Benevolence, God’s love and grace, good will, philanthropy, disinterestedness, loving-kindness, benignity, brotherly love, humanity, or tenderness
Gabrielle Giffords

Language is plastic, and yet if violence is done then language may not be possible at all

You get the drift.

Our language is plastic. It changes. It mutates. It accommodates many meanings, shades of meanings.

And if we mean to master it, or master our thoughts and emotions, we must be capable of finer discernments than are often found in commercial or in public discourse.

This may be a lead-in to a discussion about political discourse at a time of national soul-searching. What is the role of political discourse, both by politicians and by citizens? What is the proper function of tone in discourse?

You may think it’s a long stretch from commercial appeals to political. But I’m not sure. How many commercial appeals (advertising, P.R.) are so much malarkey?

And how much political talk is hatefulness, pure and simple?

Without being puritanical about it, we can begin to clarify who we are and where we stand — without shouting, screaming, shooting.

Jargon has always seemed to me a pernicious habit. Yes, it establishes people in a language club, where they can talk, and think, alike. And where they enjoy a certain common comfort.

But you see, right away, what the problem is.

If everybody is talking the same way, and thinking the same way, no one is saying, or thinking, anything different. They will have an awful hard time establishing differences when that’s necessary.

Rain Clouds

It's never a sunny day when "cloud-based solutions" and other jargon darken the sky!

If you have a product or service you’re trying to differentiate, you can’t do so by using jargon — mobtalk and gobbledygook.

Like you, I receive lots of unsolicited emails, and I look at some of them. One recent message, offering Search Engine Optimization for my web site, suggested the vendor offered “cloud-based solutions.”

I inquired if that meant they made rain?

They answered, politely, that “cloud-based solutions” meant that “all scanning and data processing is performed on our servers, i.e., Internet-based computing.”

Now that the explanation was made, I felt we had come down from the clouds and established our feet once more on solid ground. Whew! I was beginning to feel dizzy — and worry that I had lost my grip on the earth.

I may not be exactly the technical audience they had in mind, these good SEO people, when they tried to impress me with “cloud-based solutions.” But I’ve been around the block a few times and heard all I want to hear of “solutions” (let’s give solids and gases, not to mention peace, a chance, shall we?).

If the reader doesn’t understand your jargon, he certainly won’t be responding to it the way you might want him to!