Archive for the ‘English language’ Category

Friday Goulash: 11-20-09

November 21, 2009

The Onion strikes again…no, wait! This isn’t The Onion!

Once upon the 1980’s, a divorced working mother in the midwest performed the same ritual every Friday: she would collect all the dinner leftovers of the week and toss them in a pot with some elbow macaroni, Clamato, and a mysterious thickening agent.  She would refer to this concoction as  “Goulash.” “Friday Goulash” is a tribute to this woman and her smelly potful of weariness. It’s in her spirit that I serve up a week’s worth of tidbits slow-cooked to dry-yet-strangely-sticky perfection.  It goes great with Kool-Aid! (more…)

Requiem for the English Language, Part Three: Picture It!

August 2, 2009
Hurts, don't it?

Hurts, don’t it?

Before laying the torch upon my dictionary and kicking its skiff downriver, let’s take a moment to consider the finer moments of the English language.  Or you can just read Shakespeare’s collected works, but who’s got that kind of time?  No, I’d rather tack up a random scatter of snapshots culled from its life, midwestern funeral home style. (more…)

Requiem for the English Language, Part Two: Let Them Eat Cake

July 31, 2009
Nobody doesn't like Mr. Baughman, but everybody hates Ms. Hellraisin.

Nobody doesn’t like Mr. Baughman, but everybody hates Ms. Hellraisin.

I blame myself for the death of the English language.  That’s an egotistical thing to say, since obviously I’m just one, one hundred and some-odd pound parcel of moving meat and noise.  What the hell do I know, let alone what the hell could I do about anything anyway, but my ego makes me feel important.  This feeling of importance is a cracker-jack survival mechanism that allows this and all parcels of meat to continue moving and making noise and, in my particular case, taking the rap for the death of  the English language.

Several career crises ago, I was an English teacher at a glorified trade school in Iowa.   (more…)

Requiem for the English Language, Part One: You Can’t Outrun The Long Arm Of The LAW

July 29, 2009
Imagine what a quick read The Bible will be when the texters take over.

Imagine what a quick read The Bible will be when the texters take over.

I’m giving my dictionary a Viking funeral today.  The English language is dead, taken out Caesar-style, by a rabid mob comprised of pop stars, chickenshit English teachers, the communication zeigeist known as texting, and a certain unstoppable three-headed monster that I’ll get to later.  Truth be told, I probably should have administered services a long time ago.  But I guess in that way I’m like one of those old people who, deranged by denial, cohabitate with the mummified remains of their moms, and collect her Social Security checks until the cops come a-knocking.  (If you think about it enough, everyone has something in common.)  The English language has sort of rotted into a book-shaped crater in its little death bed, and it’s time to admit all the Glade Plugins in the free world aren’t going to hide the gut-wrenching funk of its demise any more. (more…)