Editor’s Note: Mr. Paquet has taken this week off. According to the note left near the open window of his room on a dark and stormy night, he has been called away on short notice to visit a distant relative, Baron Mikhail von Pokkeht, who lives in eastern Romania.
Subbing for Paquet is Adjunct Professor of Creative Language Robert Dawkins, who will be teaching several elective language courses this upcoming fall. Mr. Dawkins has been teaching English for the last thirty years, although it was only after being struck by lightning in 2004 that he took up what he calls “the psychedelic egg” of Creative Language, the value of which, he explains, lies in “the fact that the Establishment is freakin’ out over it, man.”
Today we be talking linguistics, yo, and I’m down with it. I’m buying what you’re selling, I’m grooving to the feeling, I can woot with the best of them and it’s out of sight, my man.
Lemme break it down for ya.
There was this dude and his name was Noah Webster, see, and he was all like “Dawg, I gotta get the language in my hand, man,” and I’m like, “Poppin’,” but the problem was that once people had all the words in a book with meanings and shit, suddenly the Man says we ain’t allowed to talk like we want, that there are RULES, and I think that’s totally bogus, bro.
Language is for the People to groove on, and if my peeps be saying textspeak is the cat’s meow, than I’m saying it’s the ginchiest too, ‘cause solidarity is where it’s at.
So my idea is to, like, gut the System from the inside out - ‘cuz I’m a teacher, mon; I been learnin’ students like a slave since Jimmeh Cahtah was the prez, but I’m like past all that now, G. So it’s time to fight back, and the Man is like, “No, Mr. Dawkins, you can’t do this to me,” and I’m like, “Via con dios, bitch. Fongool!”
But keep it on the down low, because when you tell the Man to get bent, he doesn’t take it lying down. I want you guys to put up a beachhead on Wikipedia while I round up enough clams to get my word ops up an’ running. See, I picked up a used bus cheap, and I’m gonna take it on the road once I get an engine for it. I’m calling it the Wurd Wagun, and we be taking the language back from the teachaz with the plan.
Ques que sais ‘plan’? Oh, it’s simple, dude, so simple it will BLOW YOUR MIND. My most excellent of plans is to tell everybody to start talking just like how they want. Once folks know they don’t need to conform, everybody can just chill, and we can go to Bush and be all like, “Seriously, dude, what is up with this war?” and he’ll be like “Thank goodness, I couldn’t understand what any of those papers people were showing me meant! We’re at war in IRAQ?” and then we can all just mellow and work on the national deficit, fo’ shizzle.
Because I grok your scene, man; I’m hep, hip, wise, on top, daddio; I’m where it’s at, I’m all over it, the Man is pwned, and it’s gravy from here on out. Bam! Kick it up a notch!
Word.