Wheysucks! We are being crushed by hyperbole, emojis and social distance.
Wheysucks is a word, ancient admittedly, but it’s marvellous. It means “alas” and I have been trying to use it for months. So long I can’t find the Word of the Day mail it came in. Or on the net. But I promise I wrote it down when it dropped.
Words are amazing! Incredible! Awesome! Stunning! But they are losing their power and we are losing a human superpower: being able to choose from a vast universe of words to express ourselves and communicate.
Even damn autocorrect keeps putting words we don’t mean in our speech bubbles, often only spotted after hitting the send button and leaving us mortified.
Emojis are so much faster and easier. Mea culpa.
An example: try to guess the part of a famous soliloquy “translated” into emojis.
Give up? It’s the first few lines of Shakespeare’s Hamlet conundrum. It’s so much more powerful and beautiful:
To be, or not to be? That is the question –
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And, by opposing, end them? To die, to sleep…
Bad eyes made me believe the horse one was a fighting/jousting knight opposing the sea of troubles. Oops.
Regularly used superlatives are amazing! Incredible! Awesome! Stunning!
But what happens when something is actually amazing! incredible! awesome! stunning? What words do we keep in reserve for those occasions when we have praised lesser happenings as being amazing! incredible! awesome! stunning!
Most people converse, in person or online, and the choice of words becomes a habit, an expression that is mutually acceptable and understood. Slang is part of this social agreement and, in its place, is a wonderfully expressive tool. A common short, sharp, funny or rude shorthand that shows we are part of a group who knows what it means. Slang is lekker in the right place.
But a huge portion of our natural communication is body language and expression. If someone tells you something in person, part of your response is in your face. For good news you can say “well done” or “that’s great” with a look of wonderment on your face; you can smile, laugh or chuckle at a witty quip but the action is on your fizzog, and without it, your reaction is lost unless you put in seven ROFLMAO emojis.
It takes much longer to write “that was a job really well done and it’s appreciated. Thank you” than it takes to emoji a few thumbs ups.
For disappointing news, we wallow in facefulls of tears; green vomiting pictures express disgust and anger is a glaring red orb.
Does it matter? Probably not. It is so widespread it fulfils its role ‒ we communicate and understand one another.
But, wheysucks, I miss well-chosen words.