Hyperbola and double speak....
are now an accepted form of speaking English. Things were never simple in the English language. You've got to be a genius just to able to spell the words.
But, now, at the journalistic and political levels, we hear all kinds of dumb shit.
President Musharraf of Pakistan said today that he rejected the accusation that his country is allowing insurgents to cross its borders 200 hundred percent! Yes, rejected not 100 percent but 200 percent. Now that's a lot of rejection. I been rejected by hundreds of women but not one of them ever dared reject me 200 percent. Could we see a pie chart of that Mr. President?
A financial analyst said on TV that she was keeping a 'very close eye' on the situation. Not just keeping an eye on it, not even a close eye would suffice for this monster deal but, a VERY CLOSE EYE was a necessity.
Exaggeration is now the norm. Simply saying a thing will get one no attention. A thing must be said with élan, hyperbola and mystical claptrap if one expects to be heard these days.
A reporter for CNN Internal News claimed: "Being a foreign correspondent is more than just being a foreign correspondent". What? If there's more to being a foreign correspondent than just being a foreign correspondent how does one ever become a foreign correspondent? Apparently, when you are a foreign correspondent you're not because there's more to it.
A forensic doctor, when introducing his program announces, with an air of authority that: "A pistol shot does not sound like gun fire" WTF! If it's a pistol shot then that must be what gun fire sounds like or are we to believe a pistol shot disguises itself into sounding like a popcorn fart?
In the past one might say 'I got a deal' and listeners would nod knowingly. later one had to emphasize that it was a 'good' deal (like one would be telling of the 'bad' deal he just lucked into). Then came the 'very good deal' and today, it's not worth mentioning unless one got a 'blockbuster' deal. Shortly, no one will pay you any mind unless you found a 'goddamn, atomic, bazooka deal!'.
While language is fluid and always in a state of
flux this current explosion of adjectives and over kill has become a super-duper pain in the ass.
QUOTE OF THE DAY:
Blah, blah, blah. Pretend that was something profound and that I said it. (unk.)
MEXICO (as I see it):
Our Mexican household is fairly Representative of most in Mexico.
Homes here are filled with amulets, icons, crucifixes, religious paintings and so on.
For example Leti has placed two, small, plastic sheep at the base of the front door to our quarters. I've forgotten what they do for us but I know they are necessary. Once, while doing a bit of work on the door I moved them some distance across the room and left them on a shelf.
I thought she would not notice or even remember the plastic sheep were ever there. After cleaning up my mess and putting tools back in the workshop I return to admire my work and there, at the base of the door, were the two plastic sheep.
We have candles of several colors. They're not for lighting but to keep us supplied with intangibles like love, health, harmony and to ward off the bad guys. There's even a money candle. It has yet to produce one thin dime.
There is in our refrigerator a small piece of dough resembling a croissant. It is wrapped in clear plastic wrap and is as hard as a hammer. It's been there for more than a year. I have asked that it be thrown out a number of times but the answer is: ¡que no!
I'm informed that said dough has been blessed by a priest and is to protect us against famine. I hope it never comes down to that but if it did we couldn't eat the thing anyway; too hard.
Many Mexicans will not sit in the path of a fan. They claim the blowing air is bad for them. No matter how hot and stuffy a room may get the fan is not considered an option.
It is curious to watch them shrink from the breeze, forming a semi-circle on the periphery of the air's wake while I sit, spread eagled, directly in front my fan.
Many insects strike fear in the heart Mexicans. The centipede is considered particularly sinister. If the creature is found on the property it must be killed immediately. After which, its carcass is burned at the entrance of the home. They tell me this smell will repel any other centipedes that might be thinking of paying a visit.
Logical? Who knows? I do know that if I smelled burning human flesh I would not be anxious to knock of the door and ask to borrow a cup of sugar.
Oh well, as they say in Mexico: Cada cabeza es un mundo.
(Every mind is another world.)
But, now, at the journalistic and political levels, we hear all kinds of dumb shit.
President Musharraf of Pakistan said today that he rejected the accusation that his country is allowing insurgents to cross its borders 200 hundred percent! Yes, rejected not 100 percent but 200 percent. Now that's a lot of rejection. I been rejected by hundreds of women but not one of them ever dared reject me 200 percent. Could we see a pie chart of that Mr. President?
A financial analyst said on TV that she was keeping a 'very close eye' on the situation. Not just keeping an eye on it, not even a close eye would suffice for this monster deal but, a VERY CLOSE EYE was a necessity.
Exaggeration is now the norm. Simply saying a thing will get one no attention. A thing must be said with élan, hyperbola and mystical claptrap if one expects to be heard these days.
A reporter for CNN Internal News claimed: "Being a foreign correspondent is more than just being a foreign correspondent". What? If there's more to being a foreign correspondent than just being a foreign correspondent how does one ever become a foreign correspondent? Apparently, when you are a foreign correspondent you're not because there's more to it.
A forensic doctor, when introducing his program announces, with an air of authority that: "A pistol shot does not sound like gun fire" WTF! If it's a pistol shot then that must be what gun fire sounds like or are we to believe a pistol shot disguises itself into sounding like a popcorn fart?
In the past one might say 'I got a deal' and listeners would nod knowingly. later one had to emphasize that it was a 'good' deal (like one would be telling of the 'bad' deal he just lucked into). Then came the 'very good deal' and today, it's not worth mentioning unless one got a 'blockbuster' deal. Shortly, no one will pay you any mind unless you found a 'goddamn, atomic, bazooka deal!'.
While language is fluid and always in a state of
flux this current explosion of adjectives and over kill has become a super-duper pain in the ass.
QUOTE OF THE DAY:
Blah, blah, blah. Pretend that was something profound and that I said it. (unk.)
MEXICO (as I see it):
Our Mexican household is fairly Representative of most in Mexico.
Homes here are filled with amulets, icons, crucifixes, religious paintings and so on.
For example Leti has placed two, small, plastic sheep at the base of the front door to our quarters. I've forgotten what they do for us but I know they are necessary. Once, while doing a bit of work on the door I moved them some distance across the room and left them on a shelf.
I thought she would not notice or even remember the plastic sheep were ever there. After cleaning up my mess and putting tools back in the workshop I return to admire my work and there, at the base of the door, were the two plastic sheep.
We have candles of several colors. They're not for lighting but to keep us supplied with intangibles like love, health, harmony and to ward off the bad guys. There's even a money candle. It has yet to produce one thin dime.
There is in our refrigerator a small piece of dough resembling a croissant. It is wrapped in clear plastic wrap and is as hard as a hammer. It's been there for more than a year. I have asked that it be thrown out a number of times but the answer is: ¡que no!
I'm informed that said dough has been blessed by a priest and is to protect us against famine. I hope it never comes down to that but if it did we couldn't eat the thing anyway; too hard.
Many Mexicans will not sit in the path of a fan. They claim the blowing air is bad for them. No matter how hot and stuffy a room may get the fan is not considered an option.
It is curious to watch them shrink from the breeze, forming a semi-circle on the periphery of the air's wake while I sit, spread eagled, directly in front my fan.
Many insects strike fear in the heart Mexicans. The centipede is considered particularly sinister. If the creature is found on the property it must be killed immediately. After which, its carcass is burned at the entrance of the home. They tell me this smell will repel any other centipedes that might be thinking of paying a visit.
Logical? Who knows? I do know that if I smelled burning human flesh I would not be anxious to knock of the door and ask to borrow a cup of sugar.
Oh well, as they say in Mexico: Cada cabeza es un mundo.
(Every mind is another world.)
posted by bbuckman | 4:40 PM
5 Comments:
Dad-I loved this post. Especially the Mexico part. Makes me miss Leti and you.
I agree with Gandhi 200%. This is the best post I have ever read. And I also miss you and Leti.
I love journalist speak. If we ever meet in Mexico with a bottle of tequilla, I suggest we play a drinking game--every time the reporter says "war-torn," "Controversial," "embattled," or "Back to you" we'll drink.
(I put "Back to you" in there, just in case--I mean, we'll want to be good and drunk before we get to the stories about the crisis in war-torn whatever. And they always do the stupid biggest pig in the world stories before they tell us how fucked we are.)
Back to you, BB.
TS
ps. I have to admit, though, I could listen to Hugo Chavez call Bush El Diablo all fucking day!
pps. Every mind is another world!
Totally awesome.
toasty- you are so fun. I wish you could come with me the next time I go down to mexi to visit my dad.
Daddy, where for art thou?
Post a Comment
<< Home