I submitted some of my WtF rants as writing samples to Coilhouse Magazine. (Yes. You should totally hold your breath waiting for my name to pop up in there.) But, re-reading some of those old posts got me itching to do another installment. So, without further ado, I give you...
WtF: 1Nt3rN3t sp33k
It seems as though the craze for iDioTic cApiTaliZatioNs has died a death we can only hope was riddled with pain and phlegm. Likewise, I've seen less and less l33t speak. That's not to say the internet has become a bastion of sensibility and punctuation, and the Queen's English can once again roam the byways of the interwebs without worrying about being bludgeoned, dragged into a dark corner, and repeatedly violated in the most horrifying of manners. We *all* know that ain't true.
No, it's just as with most obnoxious, pointless trends, the twitchy caps lock use and numerology speak have gone the way of Avril Lavigne. The only folks I see still using these early incarnations of "individualistic" (read: idiotic) interpretations of remedial typing skills are do doubt over-weight, middle-aged, and trying desperately to convince the people on the other end of the computer screen that they are, in fact, 13 year old girls.
As the oLd has fallen out of favor and "lulz" has become a word people now say *out fucking loud*, new, equally annoying counterparts have taken their places. Maybe I'm just a touch over-reactionary, but this shit is like bamboo shoots under my fingernails. Forget waterboarding. If the US Government ever wanted to get information out of me using "extreme interrogation techniques," they'd wire my eyes open, Clockwork Orange style, and send me to a Jonas Brothers forum.
I don't have a problem with "fail" when it's used with the unwritten pronoun "you." Fat guy on a little moped trying to look cool? (You) Fail. However, hearing someone in *Real Life* say, "Zoh my gawd! That shirt is fail," made me want to spend years studying human pain receptors just so I could find new and interesting ways to HURT THAT GIRL. No. The shirt is not "fail." It is a *failure*. Do you see the difference there? Do you see that little "-ure" on the end? That's what turns "fail" the VERB into "failure" the NOUN. If you can't be trusted to use the English language properly, we're going to take it away from you (by cauterizing the speech centers of your brain with a laser).
"First. / First comment. / Oh PLEASE god, let someone notice me."
Remember when you were a kid in summer, and the ice cream man would come rattling down the street, and you would run screaming to your parents for change, so that you could get a cool, frosty treat? Do you remember that one sweaty, farts-smelling kid who would rush the ice cream truck *before* he had any damn money just so he could be the first in line, and you would have to stand there behind his stinky, cabbage-smelling ass while his little brother ran to the house to try to wrangle together some dimes? Remember him? Didn't you want to smash his face into the pavement? People that race to hit the "comment" button just so that they can post "FIRST" are the internet equivalents of that kid. They all deserve curbies, without exception.
Firstly, let's just ignore that fact that "this" isn't a sentence. It's not even the skeleton of a sentence. I know it's hard, but we can ignore that glaring, irritating fact and move on to the next point. ::ahem:: Secondly, if "this" is your idea of a reward for an intelligent, well-written post, then you're a fucking moron. It's the even less erudite cousin of the dreaded "me too!" What the imbecilic offender is *really* saying is "Wow. That was a thoughtful response, and I agree with its content. However, rather than expand upon your thoughts, or continue the conversation in any real way, I'm just going to quote your post and use a demonstrative pronoun in a nonsensical way. Why have depth when I can just ride the coattails of the more verbally gifted?" Or, they would be saying that if they could stop loading up their hard drive with hardcore Pokemon yaoi for long enough to string a series of words together coherently.
Now, I know that because I'm a 32 year old woman, the fact that I've blogged about these expressions will guarantee that they will whither and die and be used by pedophiles in a matter of days. (You can thank me later.) Tragically, my irritation will not be wrapped in plastic and dumped in a Wal*Mard parking lot along with these linguistic abortions. Like some screaming insufferable hydra, yet another, more exasperating expression, will rise from the gelatinous, undulating body of the internet, shake its scaly head free of afterbirth, and proceed to aggravate the ever livin' balls out of me in less time then it will take me to figure out how to (finally) upload blog posts directly to my website.
::sigh:: Say it with me, kids. What the fuck?