If you can bother...

I decided I'd try out something...

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See for yourelf...

To swear or not to swear?

The language and the words we favor, put to use to speak our mind, have always flavours to them - some are quite acceptable, whereas some others are unkind. To swear or not to swear is up to choice, and those of us who bear in mind some social skill can dodge the ill that can emerge when people nonchalantly voice themselves. Behind the issue is the fact, that in the art of self-expression lies a gap. We simply lack a common ground, some words that are unbound to filthy meanings, yet express the anger, pain and stress.

Four-letter words are known to be used for more than just insults in fights and commotions. In the New York Times Pareles (2011) suggested, that pop artists use these words for promotion, and added that they help develop an image that grants success on the market. Yet, this strategy also creates an impression or mark, met with grudging. And many a fan can be lost by wrongly judging the limit of inappropriateness the public can handle, thus hampering the artist’s futher success.

It is a widely spread belief that cursing taints society and dims our lore, however, through the use of cursing - quietly - the language suffers even more. First of all, foul language rarely strays from its restricted path, and amidst its many ways of being hardly more than vague, it has detached all accuracy and turned but meaningless, full changeability. Inducing change, interpreting a word at random - quite like metaphores are used - the fouler words obstruct communication, being ineffective, often loose. To send a clearer message and express oneself efficiently, the use of colorful and descriptive words can be suggested, which cannot simply be outdone or bested with profanity.

Secondly, regarding language, simply choosing words can influence our prowess and our skilfulness. Due to less imagination used to convey our thoughts, the carefully constructed structure of a language suffers worst. Repeating swearing exclamations, using them in ways that contradict in many a case all logical and accepted language structures, leads to the use of even more abuse of language, alternatives and sentence fractions.

Even though the use of stronger words has been proven to relieve real pain - and so there is a mental reason that, when sullen or in anger, people curse - they do so in vain. For example Gray (2000) pointed out, that cursing as a mental medicine, like any other, looses in effectivness when used too much, and also that some other words could carry similar effects. And when one’s social status does demand respect to proper use of words, there is no other way but avoiding saying, out aloud, a curse. Holding that in mind I’d like to also draw attention to the fact, that in the mentioned work by Gray he says some languages lack the concept of a ’swearing word’, in fact, among some cultures even, no such words exist.

The gist of this review does not insist that swear words should be exiled, but applied to interaction only after careful thought. The social awkwardness and offence swearing can create could be avoided if we were to use some sought-for neutral utterances. Swearers could just try reverting to some humorous expressions, for a skilled and canny joker can express the same emotion without harm but istead please the crowd to get praise and ovation.

References

Gray, Andrew. 2000. Swearing in English. Available at

http://www.andrewgray.com/essays/swearing.htm, accessed 5 April 2011.

Pareles, Jon. 2011. From Cee Lo Green to Pink, Speaking the Unspeakable. Available at

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/16/arts/music/from-cee-lo-green-to-pink-speaking-the-unspeakable.html, accessed 5 April 2011.

Some news and a sidenote...

Although I really didn't promise anything - I apologise for delaying JC again. Even I will have to face the fact that attending university actually requires work. Philology might very well be one of the easiest subjects, yet it isn't free of effort.

A sidenote... The short phrases in italics at the beginning of each part are actually a poem-ish thing. However, they are not in the correct order.

A post of casual-minded utterances...

I am a bit disappointed for I hoped I would write something big, of more value today. Yet, beyond my means of changing fate, I coped - but should - with no such thing... Too late! Away, afar, astray and an Antelope... these are just some of the words that begin with and "A" and also describe how I feel about life or my fate or the state of my mind today. Oh, fiddlesticks, never mind - the antelope was just uncalled for, wasn't it? For it doesn't fit the context in any way, shape or form... In scorn, the wants-to-be-poetical-figure now laughs at himself, for his mindless rant just quite doesn't cut it. Well stop it! Just stop it, like that? Like that, please do, and start anew...

I've received a bit too much praise lately.
Some justified, some unintentional, some just uncalled for.
Well, at the very least, we ripped the theatre apart with our overwhelming talent, didn't we?
No, actually not, the others were just way more horrible.

I hoped this post would actually describe an academic person's view on my essay. Sad thing is - our discussion wasn't that interesting, so there's nothing much to tell. I think I made to comma mistakes somewhere. I will see to those. Some repetition was marked with red, yet later found not unsuitable at all. Main thing is - one shouldn't give the audience a fright, or rather - one shouldn't talk about necrophilia in the second sentence, when writing an admission essay. Likable and lovable, however, is the fact, that the stress was on "the second sentence". Which then again means that - as long as do not fail to I support all my bold and cynical statements - I am good to go!

Linguistics is fun, isn't it?

Here, have a bite!
*bites*

I will try to take some time over the weekend and continue Johnstown.

An Essay

Even though the Age of Exploration is long past and even though there are probably no melodies we have not heard by now, there are still plenty of stirring ideas left untouched to this day. For example, it can be said that most people would never consider implementing concepts like death, sacrilege or necrophilia into any context, regardless of their various possible implications. However, I believe that every concept and every idea bears beauty within and that this beauty can be uncovered and harvested to inspire revelry and delight much like cherry blossom does. Because I am obsessed with beauty I can broaden my horizon without restraints and never will I deem a manner of thought unwieldy for everything is yet another source of inspiration for me.

It is a rather frequent occurrence that an idea or product that lacks marketability on its own can still be subject to great renown by the way it is presented. In 2009 a teacher of mine had me compete in a speech contest for high school students, while also offering help with editing and cleansing my drafts of unsuitable content. That time my efforts did not bear fruit, however, and the nice little speech I had prepared failed to impress the jury and the audience. That setback led me to discovering the true potential of individuality and the importance of knowing where the lines are drawn. If one knows which lines should never be crossed then that someone also knows how fascinating it is for others to observe how one can walk the line and step on it in the process. The following year I entered the contest again and I had a great time bending and playing around with one of the given topics. That time I delivered a unique and charismatic performance that won me the first place.

Beauty is generally considered to be a vague and broad concept and I do not disagree. After all, it is highly dependent on personal preference and taste. That is why I am so extraordinarily interested in discovering what people cherish most and even more in what they do not cherish at all. I like broadening the ways by which beauty is perceived and looked upon. I like decorating myself by wearing trendy scarfs or glasses, even though my eyesight is just fine, and people notice my efforts. Even though vast amounts of decisions and conclusions should be and are expected to be made by logic and reason only, there is still much room left for subconscious influence and emotions. Learning of other people’s interest has thus provided me with what I consider to be invaluable knowledge and acceptance towards all ideas and their potential power.

The market and the media are separate worlds on their own much like the world that was explored thoroughly by the 17^th century but still has secrets. I believe that there is many a wondrous and valuable sentiment hidden in those worlds and that I possess the courage to seek those out difficulties notwithstanding. I feel commitment towards my ideals and I strive for their realisation in a day by day basis. For I believe in the beauty of new ideas – exploration is my motivation.

Johnstown Castle - part 13

“...I find myself unworthy of thy sight...”

Rain had begun its humble whispering outside while we, still fixed, in wait of something, gazed at one another. Would she speak, I didn’t know and she didn’t seem to want to. Someway in a state of drowse I helped myself to blunting the awkwardness of the situation and felt at ease.
“Today...” Loretta spoke quietly as if she wanted to meld her voice into the soft sound of rain. The shy mimosa, if you touch its leaves...
“Today, what you... and I”
So she reminded me of the vibrant and flickering lights, the dusty air and the golden sun, which had arisen from the grey morn and disappeared in a sea of red in the evening. But Loretta just kept on looking and so my mind couldn’t help but wander. I thought that if I had died right there on the spot, never to see another day again, that day would have been the most luminous day of my life. Why, I didn’t know. If I had died right then and there all would have been perfect. I knew it, even though I didn’t understand everything - so much had happened. But, no, I didn’t want to die. I was interested. I wanted to know and see more of everything.
Loretta had taken hold of my hand without me noticing it, my mind was so astray. Her eyes demanded an answer and god knows I ought to have given her one. Yet I did not, for I simply didn’t want to close what was open. I needed time to think and I actually wished she hadn’t come. Not then at least, but another day maybe. She deserved better, didn’t she? Where had all my sympathy gone?
“Good night, Loretta.”
I closed my eyes and relaxed. Even though sleep didn’t come to me, my eyes were relieved and my mind as well. I would deal with everything in due time, she understood that. We’d talk about everything tomorrow, wouldn’t we? Perhaps we wouldn’t after all? Loretta didn’t leave right away, which was comforting, but stayed for a while and left quietly a little later. The door closed behind her thus sealing the day, putting, as far as I was concerned, an end to a story with a conclusion.
I was wrong, however, for the day was far from over. Perhaps I shouldn’t have opened my eyes again?

To be continued...

Johnstown Castle - part 12

“...thus men will speak of us no ill...”

“Hello…”
I could hear someone’s voice close to where I was and I also a felt fresh breeze of air and a shimmer of light on my eyelids.
“Hello, would you open your god damn eyes already?”
So I did and what I saw was somewhat surprising - a familiar face looking at me from my right hand side surrounded by a halo of light. Even his voice was familiar. As my vision progressively cleared I could make out it was Mr Grogan leaning towards me in my bedroom.
“There you go little fellow! I told you he’d be fine”
It was Mr Grogan speaking, but to whom? Just a few steps back from where he was standing, a man in a white coat stood up and headed to my side.
“How are you feeling,” he asked me.
That very instant I started feeling a pain in my head and also the same suffocating feeling I had felt, well, in my coffin. I pulled my hand out from beneath a pile of heavy blankets that had been layered on top of me and felt for my head. Well it was there all right, but it hurt like hell and as I also discovered – covered in bandaging.
“What happened?”
“Ha-ha…Well I asked the very same question right when I had returned from Ferns, being greeted by two hysterical maids. But I think that Loretta can tell… or maybe not. She didn’t handle it that well.”
I was puzzled enough to mix up everything at that point. Had I done something to Loretta or not, had I been in a coffin? I had no idea, whatsoever. I started saying something, but My Grogan continued abruptly.
“She told me you were looking sick in the morning and while she was cleaning your room you decided it’d be best to fall over and assault some furniture with your head.”
Well, wasn’t he the funny one today? I noticed he was pointing towards a wooden spike in the corner of my bed where a figurine had been standing before. Just Like the one that was still present in the other corner.
“Don’t worry, I know an excellent craftsman who can take care of that.”
So maybe I hadn’t done anything to Loretta after all. Cornelius was quite chatty and didn’t seem at all concerned. But then the doctor spoke.
“You know, you have lost much blood. It is best you lay down and try not to move your head to much.”
His voice sounded spiteful to me, yet his face was completely emotionless. At least he was old - grey hair - I couldn’t really trust too young of a doctor usually.
“I also think we should remove some of these blankets. They said you were shivering but that is ridiculous overcompensation. I guess that is why you started screaming in the first place.”
“Yes,” was the only thing I managed to tell him and they proceeded to lift some of that weight away. As far as my reasoning was concerned, I had done everything I remembered doing and, after losing consciousness, I had dreamed of being buried while I was in my bed in reality.
“Alright,” said the doctor in his spiteful voice, “now get some rest.”
He and Cornelius then left the room and I was finally alone. I let my eyes wander the room while my mind started chewing through what I had heard. I looked at the balcony and noticed the sky was red of colour - the sun was setting. That means I had missed not more than half a day.
I closed my eyes and when I opened them again it was dark outside. Loretta had just entered the room with a silver waiter and a candle. I looked at her in an ambiguous manner as she stepped lightly towards my bedside and placed the waiter on the table.
“How are you feeling now?”
I noticed she didn’t follow it up with a “, Mr” that time. That rolling r sound was still there, however. Loretta was looking genuinely concerned of me and I managed to reply.
“I’ve been better.”
The back of my head was still hurting but it had been much worse before. My throat was dried up and my back hurt as well from all that lying.
“Do you want something to drink?”
She knows everything, does she not? I tried to nod but discovered it would be much less painful to say “Yes.”
She managed to pour water into my mouth slowly and I didn’t have to move as much as a muscle - I felt better instantly. Loretta put down the glass and kept on looking at me. I kept on looking back yet couldn’t help but start blinking furiously. That dim candlelight wasn’t helping matters.
Loretta’s hair was undone - I didn’t notice it before but, there she was, sitting on my bed in a light dress, with her hair flowing down from her shoulders, glistening in the candlelight.
She was beautiful…

To be continued…

Johnstown Castle - part 11

“...you are but a shadow of your former self, yet still a light...”

Unnerving and horrible, more so than all ill I’d ever felt, was the burden of fear when regained consciousness and opened my eyes. My head was aching still and the heat combined with absolute darkness, which rendered my sightless, felt unbelievably smothering - I could only hardly breathe. I gasped for air instantly but to no avail, there was not much left. I tried to move my arms yet found them obstructed by solid wood which suggested I had been enclosed in something. Where I had been placed was unclear to me and I was close to panicking.
“Hello, is there anybody?”
The first thing I could think of was that I had been placed in a coffin for my container was just of the appropriate size and even more because I feared it could be the only explanation.
“Is there anyone, please?”
As I heard no response I figured I would have to get out on my own. I tried to force the lid open with my hands and knees but achieved nothing – it wouldn’t even budge.
“Help me!”
I was screaming at the top of my lungs but even then I only hurt my own ears and completely failed to reach any others willing to respond and save me. Would only death deliver me from this? Slowly but consistently I started losing my consciousness again yet probably for the last time. There would be no more decisions to do, no mistakes to make. Was I in this situation because of a mistake? Was I being punished, did someone kill me or leave me to die? I had been buried alive and my death was imminent. I had betrayed my future wife, committed adultery – I was a cruel person. So I would disappear then and no one would know of my fate. I’d call it getting what I deserve.

To be continued...