Pens and Swords

Waterboarding: a curious word, which unfortunately, we have all become too familiar with. Imagine though, if you’d never heard the word before, if your first encounter with the word “waterboarding” was now. The word, you are told, refers to either, an “enhanced interrogation technique”, which involves the simulation of drowning; or, a new surfing related extreme sport.

Which meaning would you assume to be correct?

For me, the adoption of a seemingly innocent term as a moniker for an act of extreme violence is indeed curious; but it is no accident.

The flippant, almost playful, relationship between the term “waterboarding” and the horrific act which it describes is just one example of a new and sinister form of euphemism which has entered public discourse. These euphemisms, many of which were born in the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan, (“the war on terror”) function to conceal the reality they profess to describe.

Take for instance, George W Bush’s recent procedural description of “waterboarding” as an “enhanced interrogation technique”, as opposed to say, the more concise and popularly used term: “torture”. To even categorise this phraseology as a euphemism, is in itself a euphemistic act, given that the term “lie” would be somewhat more accurate.

In the views of some, such nitpicking over the semantics of these words may seem inconsequential, especially considering the seriousness of the actions to which they refer. However, though it may be accepted that actions speak louder than words; that is not to say that words carry no action.

The ongoing conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan, or “the war on terror”, as they are often collectively described, have produced many new words and phrases, which seek to project a particular worldview. Consider for instance the differing ideological connotations in the expression “regime change” as opposed to “coup d’état”; or “torture” versus “enhanced interrogation technique”.

Whatever your views are on these evocative and contemporary subjects, they are likely to manifest themselves in the language one uses to describe them. The much overused axiom of cultural and political relativism: “one man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter”, does not just reveal how people see the world differently, but how people champion their particular world view in language. Language is many things, but rarely neutral.

Sick vs [sic]: A regurgitation

Which is more annoying: The colloquial adjective “sick”, used predominantly by sections of the urban youth to convey approval; or the academic (read pretentious) “[sic]”, meaning “thus”, predominantly used by those wishing themselves to appear urbane, often in ‘correcting’ the language of aforementioned youths?

Frankly, I find both vomit inducing, but one slightly more tolerable than the other.

Take for example the great William Blake; an extract from his preface to Milton’s Paradise Lost was reproduced by AN Wilson in The Daily Telegraph as:

"Shakspeare [sic] & [sic] Milton were both curb'd [sic] by the general malady & [sic] infection from the silly Greek & [sic] Latin slaves of the Sword".

Admittedly, Blake should have been able to spell Shakespeare’s name, but whereas today such typos, (well not exactly, but you catch my drift), would be corrected by a keen eyed sub-editor, or, better still, Microsoft Word’s spell-check, now they are preserved only to be flaunted by critics in the literary equivalent of a blooper reel: “Oh look at me; I’ve spotted some spelling errors in the works of the great romantic poet and visionary William Blake.” You know, that kind of thing.

And that’s not even the worst of it. Consider the reproductions of texts, emails, Facebook messages or any manner of privately written correspondences that find there way into the newspaper:

Earlier this year, The Daily Mail reported the story of a British sailor who fell into difficulties off the Caribbean cost and was rescued after sending the following text message to his father:

“I'm between Puerto Rico and Dominican Republic, the steering gear is shot and operating (just) on the emergency tiller but only for short periods at a time… My best shot is the US Coastguard as Dominican services non-existant (sic). Position: N 19.22.143, W069.08.921 can you call someone”

Personally, I think the correct spelling of the word “existant” is probably pretty far down the list of priorities of a man seriously contemplating drowning. On the one hand he’s being praised for the quick thinking that most likely saved his life, whilst simultaneously being exposed for the terrible speller that he is. And are we to believe he took the time to correctly capitalise “Puerto Rico” and “Dominican Republic”? The journalist should have either corrected the spelling or reproduced the text verbatim complete with any inaccuracies. I think we’d have managed to figure out the mistake, dreadful as it was, wasn’t his.

Contrast this to the commonly used “sick” in casual speech. As in “What a sick goal!”, or “This tune is sick”. Yes that is so annoying it makes my skin crawl and yes if I ever found the word subconsciously creeping into my vernacular I’d cut off my tongue to prevent it happened again, but it is at least expressive as opposed to malicious.

Obsessively searching for words to sicify [sic] is the worst kind of pedantry, it smacks of pettiness, and is often employed with the intention to belittle. For all it grates, (at least on my ears), to hear “sick” used complimentarily, this change of usage is creative. Admittedly, it can be problematic endorsing or even commenting on the slang terms du jour, especially when doing so in pseudo-academic and occasionally outright pompous language, (du jour, seriously?!).

But a serious point lies at the root of this, I hope. Language which some perceive to be incorrect, colloquial, even vulgar, can serve the purpose of renewing and revitalising our collective vocabularies. If those who seek to enforce some entirely subjective and prohibitive rules pertaining to what is correct and what isn’t, the richness and vitality of our lexicon would suffer. Language needs these colloquial forays into the domain of improper usage and those that feel otherwise would do well to remember that a language that doesn’t evolve, dies.

An open letter to the staff of Alexandra Palace

Dear Sir/Madam,

I attended last night’s Hot Chip/LCD Soundsystem concert, looking forward to a great evening’s music after paying no small amount of money for my ticket.
Unfortunately, and I know I’m not alone; my viewing pleasure was damaged by what I can only describe as terrible event management. Despite arriving in the queue in plenty of time we were delayed considerably getting in, missing a good half an hour of Hot Chip’s performance.

And queuing seemed to be the theme of the night; for the toilets, for bar tokens and for the bar itself.

To be honest, I’d struggle to design a more ineffective bar system if I tried. One person behind a solitary bar pouring drinks for hundreds of queuing people all of whom have conveniently bought tokens ignorant to the fact that there’s more chance of being struck by lightning than being able to exchange them for drinks.

Indeed, it does seem strange to have such an effective, well manned and competent token queuing system, only to be complemented by a piss poor bar system were staff are conspicuous only by their absence and the service of drinks is rarer than rocking horse shit.

Miraculously I did make it to the front to one of the two bars in the entire venue, only to be told this bar was now closing and if I wanted a drink I had to join the queue at the other bar, which at that time was comparable to the population of Liechtenstein. I won’t go into detail but suffice to say I was a tad frustrated at this announcement.

You seem to have concerts quite regularly at Alexandra Palace; I wonder is last night’s level of chaos the norm or was this just a one off monumental fuck up?

Oh and don’t even get me started on the cloakroom.

Yours sincerely,

Disgruntled, Finsbury Park.