You're Amenable!

     Greetings, Salutations, and a big old howdy to you all, and welcome to the previously promised post, from St. John the Amenable, patron saint of I wish you wouldn't do that. We're going to start with something easy, something that's been pointed out to us all before, be it by some picky friend (hello!) or any competent English teacher. I do not intend to take up too much of your time with it, as I'm sure you're busy, as the peasants were in the days of yore.
     In fact, it's already done, and if you paid attention, you're already aware, so congratulations to you and yours. Yore.
     There it was again.
     Okay, moving on to the latest in what is admittedly a long line of phrases that you're using and I wish you wouldn't. I think it's time we let "on the down low" leave our collective vocabulary, and let it cross the linguistic river Styx, say a few words to mourn it's passing, and move on to something that doesn't sound vaguely like a bedroom activity of some kind.
     And who should say these aforementioned mournful passing words? Well, since no one else is volunteering, and I'm the one writing this thing, I suppose I should. And so I shall.
     We gather here to memorialize the passing of "on the down low," a phrase used by many (but not me), in it's life, to emphasize the necessary confidentiality of juicy gossip, surprise parties, secrets kept from significant others that could do untold damage to relationships, and so on. This proud phrase rose from the murky depths of not being a thing, to eventually appear in movies, television, and even in our daily lives, spreading the word to not spread the word. Our dear friend's entire existence was dedicated to keeping secrets, like so many of our greatest legends, including J. Edgar Hoover, Richard M. Nixon, and James Bond. It's use prevented the possible proliferation of passwords, private pronouncements, and even profusely pecksniffian prognostications (that right there, that's called alliteration. Try it at home. It's a blast. Don't overuse it in your writing though, that's kind of my thing.)
     But let us not mourn it's passing, my friends and neighbors. Let us instead rejoice that it was here for a time, and rejoice again that it is gone, because it was kind of stupid. And I beseech you all, and command a certain few of you, to let it go gracefully, and not to keep your emotions from the world, but instead to acknowledge, share, and yes even celebrate them.
     Do not say you're keeping you're emotions 'up high.' People will not be grateful.
     So, now that we have covered yet another dearly departed (mostly just departed) phrase that people will probably keep bandying about even though it's morbid to throw dead things, I think it's time we moved on to something much more exciting:
     Bringing dead words back to life!
     Twist! Baahahahahaaaa!
     Yes, yes, I know, some of you are welling up in anger and frustration  at the hypocrisy you see here. I just finished making a point about letting things die when they should, and here I am trying to pump life back into these other things, mostly just because I hate that phrase and like these better. "Charlatan!" you cry, and "For shame!", and "Flimflammery of the lowest sort!", and so on.
     Well hey there, Patron Saint of Not a Single Solitary Thing, maybe shut up. It'll be fun.
     First, that word I used earlier, 'pecksniffian.' Look it up, it's real. You should use it, because it's gangbusters, and people will give you some really interesting looks.
     Also, I never hear anyone use the word 'gangbusters' anymore. What is that about? Come on, people, it's not like we haven't worn 'awesome' out, you know? Spread your word wings and fly!
    Wait, don't do that. It sounds pretty stupid.
    I would also like to know why I never hear anything referred to as a harbinger of doom anymore? Check out the news, people, doom is all over this place. Surely, there are harbingers. How come no one points them out? It could help.
    This one I just discovered today: Knocked in to a cocked hat. Can you even stand the glory in that phrase? I don't see how any human could. This is perhaps why it means beaten severely. It hits your ears, and you're immediately beaten with it's glory. Like in yore.
     Finally, I will leave you with a phrase I heard in a movie recently. Next time you and a group of people find yourselves wondering what to do, and you have an idea, say this: "I'll tell you what let's do!"
     Go on, say it aloud to yourself, but fair warning, a southern accent matters here.
     Fun, right? And talk about getting reactions from people. Brother, you ain't seen nothing yet.
     And what's the point of language, if not to get a reaction?
     Your,You're, and yore. They're different, was my point.
-St. John

Giant Burgers, Short Hair, Teachers and Students, What Else?

   

     You know what we haven't done in a while, friends and neighbors? Besides, you know, this at all. We haven't taken a look at the news to see what joy can be found in the world! Yes indeed, it's time once again to peruse our electronic periodicals (or whatever, websites, I guess), and see what little yet supremely important and surprising things we can find together. Except I already did that, so check these out:
     Here's the first one, which I saw just today. Headline:
     "Cameron Diaz cries over drastic haircut."
     Can you believe it? Turns out, some friend of hers cut Ms. Diazs' hair, and it's shorter than she wanted! She cried! Her hair cutting friend cried! Then, apparently some other people cried! It was horrible! Thankfully, this story was reported quickly, and with such compassion, that the actress has received enough support from her fans, and will recover.
     Oh, wait, hang on. This story, written today, is actually about a haircut that happened in December 2011, and no one, anywhere, cares about it today. In fact, it was so unimportant, the half page article ended up quoting her about how great aging is, and how Google has made grandparents obsolete.
     Brilliance.
     The next headline I have for you reads thus:
     "Another 'Heart Attack Grill' customer collapses while eating 'bypass burger'."
     It gets better. Apparently, this customer was eating a "double bypass burger," while drinking a margarita and smoking a cigarette. Then, she collapsed into unconsciousness.
     Speaking for all people, I can say, "No. Doy."
     Speaking for myself, I can add, "I want one of those burgers. With bacon on it."
     What I really like about this headline is that it starts with the word 'another,' which makes it seems like this happens all the time. Which, maybe, it does. This poor woman, who was just out for a leisurely gluttonous lunch to go with her cigarette and alcohol, was the second customer to fall at the feet of this mighty burger establishment in just over two months. the first guy was eating a "Quadruple Bypass Burger" (and I want one of those, too.) Personally, I hold the burger joint responsible. I mean come on, if you present someone with the opportunity to eat something called a "Double Bypass Burger" how can they resist? Especially if it comes with a "Butterfat Milkshake," (which I do not want) and "Flatliner Fries (. . . maybe)?" Come on, what are we supposed to do, realize that this places' 600 pound spokes-model died last year at twenty nine, and Not eat there?
     Oh, wait a minute.
     Anyway, here's our final entry for the day:
    "Should teachers and students be Facebook friends?"
     The long answer is this article, which discusses how some schools have approved social media policies with regard to teachers and students, and then proceeds to talk about one male teacher who makes friends with female students, and then comments about how their pictures are sexy. Then they talk about how one teacher sent out a mass message concerning some internship, and a student applied and got said internship.
Then some guy, a lawyer you don't care about, compared the whole thing to cursing at students, and said that happens. Cursing, I mean. I assume his point is that students aren't as innocent as people think, so being a creepy Facebook stalker teacher isn't a big deal. Some other guy also calls email a dinosaur. These are grown-ups, not the students.
     The short answer is no, stupid. Talk to your students when they're in your classroom, and if they can't be bothered to write that stuff down, or check their dinosaur email, then maybe they're not responsible enough for an internship. Stupid.
    And that's your news! Be sure to come back next week, when St. John the Amenable returns for another round of fun with language!
    "What's that? Next week?"
     Yes, next week.
     "No way, you never do this two weeks in a row, because you're a lazy person."
     I am not. Shut up.
     "Yeah-huh, you are. You're too lazy to even have a decent closer, so you just made up some stupid fake dialogue!"
     Hey, how about you get out of here and let me finish this thing?
     "Yeah, whatever, sure, see you "next week."
     I said GET OUT!!
-John