It’s a deep down feeling. It’s the sort of thing that is irreducible. I found myself looking around, confused. Looking for the source of this consternation I became overwhelmed when I found it. I realized I had seen it the first time but was so dazed that I put myself into a state of vertigo just to avoid looking at it. But there it was I couldn’t deny it.
With all of the sick voyeuristic tendencies that I have from years of internet trolling I still wasn’t prepared to review the facebook profiles of everyone who I went to high school with. It was just so bloody unnecessary.
With no one else to blame I find my mind reeling from the terror of two paragraphs in which every sentence ends with an exclamation point! I remember this person being particularly peppy but seriously no one is that excited about everything they have to say.
There is a saying in go “If you want to become strong study joseki, if you want to become weak memorize it.” Now I’m assuming that pretty much everybody reading this doesn’t know what that means so let me rephrase it for the poetry crowd; if you want to understand language play with it, if you want to become incomprehensible learn big words.
I used to rail against people who didn’t submit themselves to standard written English. I put them in the same category as people who think kittens aren’t cute and pedophiles. Then one day I had a realization. Language, whether written or vocalized, is for communication. As with all communication each message is meant for a particular person or persons. The method/mode must reflect the audience. In short, you can’t talk to everybody the same because everybody is different. In sociology this is referred to as code switching and it happens in all cultures.
It’s OK for me to use lots of slang and vulgar terms with my friends but I wouldn’t talk that way to my grandmother, that’s code switching.
In light of all this. In light of knowing that everybody communicates differently. In light of knowing that as long as the message received is the message was received that success has been achieved. I still can’t fathom the message of 20 exclamation points. No one is that excited except infomercial hosts, crank addicts, and very young children in the presence of adults in fuzzy outfits.




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