So maybe I’m on campus two hours early. And I had planned to buy books, because my order from Amazon is taking years. I was going to buy them then return them when the shipment arrived. I have a feeling this is a very common problem with Amazon. They might be getting angry letters from college students all over the universe.
As if college students know how to write letters.
Oh, but they do.
Just ask some of them.
Do it.
DO IT!!!
I’M SO DANG EXCITED ABOUT TODAY AND I HAVE STUPID CRUSHES ON BOYS WHICH IS TOTALLY RIDICULOUS WHICH IF YOU WANT TO KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT YOU’LL HAVE TO ASK ME IN PERSON OR IF YOU LIVE FAR AWAY OR EVEN IF YOU’RE CLOSE BY YOU CAN CHAT ME OR CALL AND I’M LOOKING AT CLASS SYLLABUSESESESES AND ALL THE LEARNING AND IT ALL LOOKS REALLY COOL AND I CHECKED MY BLOG SPAM TODAY AND WAS COMPLETELY AMUSED AT ONE OF THE MESSAGES AND HERE IT IS SO THAT IS ALL AND EVERYONE HAVE A LOVELY AND WONDERFUL DAY AND I LOVE YOU AND I JUST LOVE YOU.
The whiplash is mostly gone, but new and weird pain has shown up in my knees. And my scabs are starting to itch, which in some ways, is so much worse than the pain.
–
After we came out at the end of the trail on Saturday, we loaded our bikes onto the doctor’s truck, and we headed back up to the trailhead where the other car was parked. People started transferring bikes from the car to the SUV. It was barely a 10-minute ride and I thought it was funny how we spent three hours on a trail for such a short return. It was definitely worth it.
People were chatting, and all of a sudden I felt dizzy. And the back of my head tingled. And everything was washed out in white light. And I thought, [bleep], I’m about to pass out.
I didn’t faint, though, but instead squatted where I stood and lowered my head and closed my eyes. I began to wonder if this was a result of the fall, if hitting my head had to do with the dizziness. It scared me a bit.
People kept on chatting, and I stayed seated. Then someone might have looked at me–he must have–and then he asked if I was okay. And I told him that I was dizzy. And the other stuff I was feeling. And he said that I had altitude sickness and that I should take two aspirin and drink a lot of water. That the aspirin would thin my blood and allow oxygen to travel more easily through my body blah blah blah fishcakes.
Someone gave me two ibuprofen and said it would do the same thing as aspirin. I dropped the pills from my palm into my mouth and drew some water from my Camelbak.
We boarded the white SUV and the driver blasted the air conditioning and I positioned the vent next to me to blow on my head. Someone told me how to recline my seat, so I leaned back and closed my eyes for a bit.
Within the first five minutes of the drive back to Duck Creek Village, some nausea sneaked up on me. I began to think how I would tell the people in the car how I was going to throw up at any second: could we pull over please, I’m about to vomit. Or that I’d just roll down the window and blow chunks and hope not to ruin the paint on the car. But, I continued to lay back and focus on the conversation around me, and soon the nausea subsided.
The sensation of the entire experience came back only one more time, and I worried that I would have to drive for four hours to Provo in this condition. Yet, my body adjusted to the altitude, and once I drank more water and had something to eat, it wasn’t so bad.
The drive to Provo was great. Thunderstorms booming and tumbleweed rolling across the interstate. Playlists and Radiolab podcasts. Mountain biking that morning and 8 hours of hiking the day before worked me hard, but maybe adrenaline kept me alert. And pain rode with me the whole time. Soreness had begun to settle into my joints and muscles. Mostly my shoulders.
–
I didn’t interact with very many people today. Maybe a total of two lines in Google Chat, and one response in facebook. All this morning.
–
I began rereading Atlas Shrugged. When I opened to the first page of Ms. Rand’s tome this morning, a familiar-weird-bad taste returned to my mouth. I was 18 or 19 when I read it the first time. I was only 17 when I read the Fountainhead. It’ll be interesting to see if my opinions have changed over the years. Writing: fine. Story: fine. Propaganda: whatever. I mean, it’s hard for me to understand how this woman could hate women so much; how her philosophy was JUST SO COOL once upon a time. If I take everything she says with a grain of salt, then I will also need a good prescription for high blood pressure. Or I won’t have to wonder why I’m retaining so much water.
I had heard of Justin Bieber over a year ago. I’d seen pictures, listened to soundbytes. I’m not one to predict the staying power of any 21st century artist or musician, especially if his testosterone switch hasn’t flipped on yet, but am I EVER SO GLAD to be living in the era of this phenomenon, the “fever.” How can you not love him, his angelic voice, his wispy hair? His smooth dance moves? All before puberty, ladies and gentlemen. Can you imagine what kind of magic will unleash once thicker fuzz appears on his face? Until nearly two months ago in Africa, I did not know the power of this man-boy until a throng of fellow female college students started singing his songs. What a mighty blessing that was. Now, I will never forget him.
One of his timeless classics is “Baby” featuring Ludacris. It is one of the most enigmatic, soul-transforming chef-d’oeuvres that has ever been created. EVER.
First, this song is sad. BUT LISTEN TO THE SONG! It has a fast beat and the melodic phrases go up a short scale then back down the scale. It intends to stimulate brain activity, like Mozart. Think of the beginning of “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik” as the notes ascend then descend. The remarkable thing here is that Justin is not performing as a string section of a chamber orchestra. He’s doing everything WITH HIS VOICE, with much aplomb!
You know you love me, I know you care Just shout whenever, and I’ll be there You want my love, you want my heart And we will never ever ever be apart
Can you feel the confidence? I would be beside myself, completely lovestruck, if someone told me what I know and what I want. Why, yes, I DO KNOW that I love you. And it’s great that you know I care, but I wonder if you know what I care ABOUT? YES, YOU. Well, of course I want your love and your heart. I was beginning to think the era of the mindless woman submitting to the domineering man was gone, but fortunately this song is restoring that mentality to full force.
WHENEVER! WHENEVER! WHENEVER!
Um, Justin, where are you? You said you’d come. What am I supposed to think when I call for him and he doesn’t come? How does he distinguish between what I want and what I will get? HE DOESN’T. EVERYTHING IS SO SIMPLE: IT’S THE SAME FOR HIM. Is he setting conditions for eternal togetherness? I want his love and his heart, therefore, we will stay together forever. That’s all it takes. That’s what I’ve done wrong all these years. I should have wanted a beautiful 16-year-old boy’s love to ensure my life’s happiness.
Are we an item? Girl, quit playing We’re just friends, what are you saying? Say there’s another and look right in my eyes My first love broke my heart for the first time And I was like…
Uh, oh. Showing insecurity, are we? VERY INTERESTING PROGRESSION. I love how one can experience such a wide range emotions and experiences in this stanza. IT’S OKAY IF HE DOESN’T REALLY KNOW IF HE’S IN A RELATIONSHIP, BECAUSE NOBODY REALLY “KNOWS” THAT KIND OF THING, ANYWAY. Uncertainty, just-friendship, doubt; shock from finding out there’s another love interest; falling so hard for someone that he becomes the victim of a big-time high-school jilting. This perfectly captures the high-school adventure of crushes and heartache, but I can’t really feel sad, because the tune is so happy, at least within the half-octave range it provides.
Baby, baby, baby oooh Like baby, baby, baby nooo Like baby, baby, baby oooh I thought you’d always be mine (mine)
One of my favorite things in high school was when people called me “baby.” Nothing made me feel more like an adult or more accommodating of my desire to be independent. What I also appreciate here is the anguish I feel in the “oh”s and “no”s, like he’s going through a type of denial–an important part of grieving–in the loss of his very first love that he absolutely truly thought he would love and be together with forever and ever and never mind that he’s dancing like an elf and making weird faces, because THOSE are DEFINITELY NOT reasons to break up with somebody.
Baby, baby, baby oooh Like baby, baby, baby nooo Like baby, baby, baby oooh I thought you’d always be mine (mine)
Apparently, the suffering is so deep, this part of the chorus needs repeating.
Also, not a coincidence this video is shot in a bowling alley. It’s a place where lots of teenagers hang out, and it incorporates the metaphor of the strike. Which either could mean striking out or completely scoring. And whatever kind it means depends on individual situations. Way to integrate relativistic philosophy into a song. IMPRESSIVE.
I ALSO LOVE HOW MODESTLY DRESSED JUSTIN IS IN THIS VIDEO. I know he is sparing my eyes from his rippling muscles and he wants me to focus on his boy-choir voice and that army dog-tag necklace. Because he happens to know how much I respect the military and have a weakness for men in uniform, plus, since he’s engaging my mind with the composition of the song, his conscientious dress only serves to make me smarter. He’s freaking brilliant.
For you I would have done whatever And I just can’t believe we ain’t together And I wanna play it cool, but I’m losin’ you I’ll buy you anything, I’ll buy you any ring And I’m in pieces, baby fix me And just shake me ’til you wake me from this bad dream I’m going down, down, down, down And I just can’t believe my first love won’t be around
May I take this moment to compliment Mr. Bieber’s lip-synching abilities. ALWAYS SO SMILEY!
What is the color of desperation? It’s called Justin Bieber. I LOVE how he encourages emotional awareness, despite his denial. He’s in pieces, and he needs the girl to put him back together. BUT she also wants him to shake him, which you would think defeats the purpose of the Humpty-Dumpty repair, but he’s having one of those falling-down dreams, which means he’s losing control, and he needs the girl to help him gain control. I LOVE how specific he gets with his promises: I can shout WHENEVER, for me he would do WHATEVER. His level of commitment completely blows my mind, especially when he expresses that he wants to buy me anything, ANY RING. I LOVE the idealism he has, and this definitely reveals my ignorance of Canadians, because it seems that they propose or betroth or declare everlasting love well before they graduate from high school. It is because of his idealism that he’s in disbelief. BUT, he’s also really good at being able to tell what his love interest knows and wants. This song is TIGHT.
YET, this song does imply a little bit of optimism with “first” love. There will be others. And you’ll most likely be dumped by them, too. This song prepares people for reality!
And I’m like Baby, baby, baby oooh Like baby, baby, baby nooo Like baby, baby, baby oooh I thought you’d always be mine (mine)
Baby, baby, baby oooh Like baby, baby, baby nooo Like baby, baby, baby oooh I thought you’d always be mine (mine)
Has anyone ever considered the effect of using the word baby for nearly half the words of the refrain? It is a serious jolt to the brain. It establishes a certain expectation in the listener, a point of focus. I now turn my head whenever someone says “baby.” This song is a great conditioning tool if you ever want stop thinking your name is whatever people normally call you.
[Ludacris:]
Luda! When I was 13, I had my first love,
There was nobody that compared to my baby
and nobody came between us or could ever come above
She had me going crazy, oh, I was star-struck,
she woke me up daily, don’t need no Starbucks.
She made my heart pound, it skipped a beat when I see her in the street and
at school on the playground but I really wanna see her on the weekend.
She knows she got me dazing cause she was so amazing
and now my heart is breaking but I just keep on saying…
What I love about rappers’ interludes is how they introduce themselves. This particular section demonstrates the power of girls over boys. And, it’s sort of dirty if you try to connect certain ideas to teenage boys, so I will probably just skip this part. But yes, teenage boys are capable of feeling the drug-like effects that girls have on them. It’s fascinating how boys are really truly the victims throughout this song. Girls should really feel empowered and in not any way degraded by this song at all.
BUT the rapper and Justin Bieber have matching dogtags. Not the least bit ludicrous.
Ooh! Dance-off! These dance circles are universal, and it’s important that all the cool and able dances show off their moves in the center, and it’s especially important that somebody in the circle knows all the words to whatever song is playing at the time. BELIEVE ME: IT DOES HAPPEN. Just ask Africa.
Baby, baby, baby oooh Like baby, baby, baby nooo Like baby, baby, baby oooh I thought you’d always be mine (mine)
Baby, baby, baby oooh Like baby, baby, baby nooo Like baby, baby, baby oooh I thought you’d always be mine (mine)
I’m gone (Yeah Yeah Yeah, Yeah Yeah Yeah) Now I’m all gone (Yeah Yeah Yeah, Yeah Yeah Yeah) Now I’m all gone (Yeah Yeah Yeah, Yeah Yeah Yeah) Now I’m all gone (gone, gone, gone…) I’m gone
One of the last stages of grief is acceptance. Contrast the “no” with the “yeah”s at the very end of the song. Compare the agony of Justin Bieber in this song to that of T.S. Eliot’s in a couple of lines from the Waste Land:
No: “I will show you fear in a handful of dust” and Yeah: “these fragments I have shored against my ruins.” SO MUCH ALIKE! I’m pretty sure Justin got most of his inspiration from T.S. Eliot. That’s just one more reason to love this song with all my heart and soul.
Tragic. Awe-inspiring. All in such a happy little tune. I WANT TO FEEL SAD IN A DANCE-OFF ALL THE TIME AND GO BOWLING AND THROW STRIKES AS MANY TIMES AS POSSIBLE TO SCORE AND REEK OF DESPERATION WITH A SMILE–A FADING SMILE–UNTIL I AM GONE, GONE, GONE.
WHAT A SUPER-DUPER SONG! SMARTER NOW! May’s rating scale:
Sharing cultures is a wonderful experience, n’est-ce pas? Yeah, we’re Americans. We found various ways to not assimilate. And most of the time, it was fun. And sometimes it felt like home. And doesn’t everything American make the world a better place? Couldn’t Americans also find ways to be better through other cultures? I may add to these lists later, but here’s a start.
1.
-Napoleon, donne-moi tes tots!
-Cherche les tiens!
-Non. Je meurs de faim!
So, we were on our way to class one morning, and very randomly, after Sarah and I stepped off the school bus, we started quoting Napoleon Dynamite in French. It got me through that two-or-so-hour lecture in a dark classroom. By golly, if I couldn’t talk about geopolitics in French, I can certainly quote a dorky American movie. A+ for me.
2.
“And I was like baby, baby, baby, oh
Like baby, baby, baby, no…”
NON. NO. NO. No. Please stop singing that song. Stop sounding so cheery when you sing it. Stop sounding exactly like Justin Bieber when he sings it. Why are so many of the women who are returned missionaries singing this? Why does Justin Bieber sound like a woman? And how do they know so many of his songs? I sealed my lips and clenched my jaw. And I brushed my hair on behalf of Justin Bieber.
3.
“Hey, Macarena…”
They taught. The village kids. The Macarena. There has got to be a better way to westernize and/or modernize old cultures. Or maybe in some aspects we should leave them alone. Maybe they’re better off knowing one of the worst line dances ever (the absolute worst being the Cha-Cha Slide). But to be fair, both parties benefited from dancing and laughing together. I was glad they schooled us (4-1?) in a soccer match.
4.
Coke, Sprite, Fanta, Pringles
We personally didn’t bring these over, but they found their way ahead of us in order to comfort us. BECAUSE WE NEEDED COMFORT. These were familiar tastes, and they kept us calm. And less nauseous. But I don’t think I’ve ever drunk so much soda in all my life.
5.
“Toubab!”
We probably helped Senegal set a record for how many times the people used the word Toubab. Sort of like Gringo. With me, they had different guesses: Japonaise (4), Chinoise (2), Corée (1). So, that was fun.
So, what temporal influences did Senegal have on us?
1. Brushing our teeth with bottled water
2. Baguettes. I will be just fine if I don’t see another baguette for a long time. (Though I do miss taking the sacrament with baguette bread. Which is probably wrong to say, but it’s true.)
3. Akon. Yes, kids. He’s from Senegal.
4. Yassa poulet. A chicken dish with rice. I probably ate it at least four times and may never eat it again.
5. Vendors. They were seriously traumatizing. The harpies on Gorée were the worst. Then maybe the guys who led us into a sweatshop warehouse. All true stories.
It was Friday, March 25, 2011. I was reading at the BYU English Symposium, and a good friend of mine came to hear the presentation. It was already raining that morning, and by the time my panel was over, it was pouring even harder, and threatening to snow. On our walk from the Jesse Knight Building to the Marriott Center, my friend heard a girl singing a song to the friend she was walking with. My friend remarked that that was the second time she overheard someone singing that song. I asked, “What song is this?” Then she started describing it, and I had never heard of it. But, if people on campus had caught the earworm, then I figured I would hear it eventually.
Eventually came very soon. That night I was at a friend’s apartment. We had just returned from a BYU men’s volleyball game, and it was getting late, and we started looking up videos on YouTube. We looked up everything from the Kermit the Frog singing Johnny Cash to Flight of the Conchords. And then somebody had to bring up a song called “Friday” by Rebecca Black. The group of us watched this video a few times, commenting on the musicality and songwriting. I must admit I was taken aback. Why hadn’t I heard of this earlier? How did this phenomenon arise? And, how fortunate was I to have heard this song on a Friday?
Since that fated Friday, I hear the song all the time, everywhere. Here’s the song, for your reference, to accompany my following comments:
The more I listen to the song, the more hypnotizing it becomes. In addition to the catchy autotuned singing, which so skillfully cloaks Ms. Black’s pubescent voice, the lyrics are profound and showcase the marvelous acrobatics of the English language in a neglected circus sideshow. Words, music, video – everything about the song begs further analysis:
From the beginning, this song exudes positivity. Where some songs begin with “No-oooo” or even simply, “la la la la,” the “Yeah” inherently invites acceptance. Yeah, of course I will like this song. Yeah, I will keep singing this song all day because, yeah, it makes me so happy. Yeah, even when it’s not Friday. But real-life Fridays make me smile very big. Yeah.
Also, what about the beautiful message of the Ark? The story of Noah’s Ark expresses new beginnings and exclusion of the wicked. What does this have to do with Friday? The righteous party hard on Friday, but not on Sunday. Rainbows come on Sunday.
What do you think of the flipbook animation here? I wish I were as skillful at creating cartoon effects as other people.
Seven a.m., waking up in the morning Gotta be fresh, gotta go downstairs Gotta have my bowl, gotta have cereal Seein’ everything, the time is goin’ Tickin’ on and on, everybody’s rushin’ Gotta get down to the bus stop Gotta catch my bus, I see my friends (My friends)
The first thing I think of when I read this verse isn’t exactly positive: if she’s rushing in the morning, why doesn’t she set her alarm clock to go off earlier? I do appreciate Rebecca’s fastidiousness, though, especially her hygiene and the importance of breakfast.
I LOVE the forced rhyme of bowl and cereal. It further emphasizes the value of breakfast: if you make those words rhyme, then you can make yourself eat breakfast in the morning. Also, by the end of the week, by Friday, one’s energy is all but spent, and if she’s going to party that night, she needs all the energy that she can get.
The dilemma of having to choose between riding the bus and riding in the cool car with friends is so, so real!
Kickin’ in the front seat Sittin’ in the back seat Gotta make my mind up Which seat can I take?
I LOVE how Rebecca thinks safety first! Which seat can she take? Instead of taking either side in the back, she takes the middle! She wants to be alive for the big party that night!
It’s Friday, Friday Gotta get down on Friday Everybody’s lookin’ forward to the weekend, weekend Friday, Friday Gettin’ down on Friday Everybody’s lookin’ forward to the weekend
I LOVE the English language! I had no idea that forward could be pronounced “forWARD”! I love having the choice of pronouncing words differently than their standard, universally accepted pronunciations! I’m going to pronounce forward in as many ways as I can! I LOVE the free spirit of this song!
Partyin’, partyin’ (Yeah) Partyin’, partyin’ (Yeah) Fun, fun, fun, fun Lookin’ forward to the weekend
7:45, we’re drivin’ on the highway Cruisin’ so fast, I want time to fly Fun, fun, think about fun You know what it is I got this, you got this My friend is by my right, ay I got this, you got this Now you know it
I LOVE how Rebecca throws caution to the wind and safety doesn’t matter anymore! She’s not sitting deep in the seat but on the back of seat in that ultra-cool convertible. But she’s with her friends on a Friday night, and that’s what’s important! I LOVE the city skyline and the full moon in the background. I was a little worried teenagers were going to start morphing into vampires and wolves, but THAT DOES NOT HAPPEN! I LOVE THAT!
I LOVE how the friends on both sides of her have braces! What a brilliant plug for dental maintenance and self-conscious imperfections!
Kickin’ in the front seat Sittin’ in the back seat Gotta make my mind up Which seat can I take?
It’s obvious now which seat is her Friday seat. But I LOVE to hear it again anyway.
It’s Friday, Friday Gotta get down on Friday Everybody’s lookin’ forward to the weekend, weekend Friday, Friday Gettin’ down on Friday Everybody’s lookin’ forward to the weekend
Partyin’, partyin’ (Yeah) Partyin’, partyin’ (Yeah) Fun, fun, fun, fun Lookin’ forward to the weekend
Yesterday was Thursday, Thursday Today i-is Friday, Friday (Partyin’) We-we-we so excited We so excited We gonna have a ball today
Did you know that one of my favorite poets, Gerard Manley Hopkins, left out small words in his poetry to purify it and extract its essence? I believe Rebecca caught the pulse of Mr. Hopkins with this part of the song. “We so excited” carries just as much meaning as “We are so excited.” The important words: We = togetherness and bonding. So = describes how excited. Excited = excited!
Tomorrow is Saturday And Sunday comes after … wards I don’t want this weekend to end
The sequence of weekend days often confuses me. This is a wonderful reminder. This segment hearkens back to the beginning with the flipbook animation. The continuity (and cost consciousness!) of this video is really impressive.
R-B, Rebecca Black So chillin’ in the front seat (In the front seat) In the back seat (In the back seat) I’m drivin’, cruisin’ (Yeah, yeah) Fast lanes, switchin’ lanes Wit’ a car up on my side (Woo!) (C’mon) Passin’ by is a school bus in front of me Makes tick tock, tick tock, wanna scream Check my time, it’s Friday, it’s a weekend We gonna have fun, c’mon, c’mon, y’all
Did you know that R.B. are the initials for Rebecca Black?
Did you know that Gertrude Stein often strung words together in a seemingly nonsensical way, but she used words similarly to how artists use different materials to build and layer and texture their work? Not only does Rebecca add variety to the song by including a rapper, she adds dimension to the song by adding other lyrics that also do not seem to make sense. It’s a diversion, much like Fridays are supposed to be.
In terms of continuity and diversity, the rapper-driver is reckless driving, swerving between lanes, passing a school bus full of children-victims of the public school system. Caution has clearly caught the jetstream. I appreciate the understated environmental message. Pure genius.
It’s Friday, Friday Gotta get down on Friday Everybody’s lookin’ forward to the weekend, weekend Friday, Friday Gettin’ down on Friday Everybody’s lookin’ forward to the weekend
Partyin’, partyin’ (Yeah) Partyin’, partyin’ (Yeah) Fun, fun, fun, fun Lookin’ forward to the weekend
It’s Friday, Friday Gotta get down on Friday Everybody’s lookin’ forward to the weekend, weekend Friday, Friday Gettin’ down on Friday Everybody’s lookin’ forward to the weekend
More about the lyrical brilliance of this song. How do you fill a measure of music? Four beats? Not with “la la la la” or even with “yeah yeah yeah yeah” but with “Fun fun fun fun!” I love the challenge of memorizing this song with all the quirky shifts in the words – the words themselves, as well as the pronunciations. So, so deep.
If I were going to sing a song about the weekend to my friends, I would sing it beside a tree. I would also include cuts to me singing autotuned high notes in a studio with colored lights and stage smoke. I would also make the audience clap for me and my groovy moves. The song ends with the same positivity as it begins. But, the song also ends with a word that ends in end: weekend. Who else would have thought of that?
This song deserves higher than a “SUPER DUPER” rating, but I can’t possibly make an exception in the scale I designed, even as powerful as Fridays are.
Is it okay if I don’t post any real content that will definitely not display my writing skills? I’m so burnt out from this semester, and I didn’t even do anything. Well, I listened to some new music.
I think I like the Retribution Gospel Choir. If “Mormon” is supposed to have a sound, I don’t think this is it. I was pleased.
Oh, speaking of retribution, here’s a song about war by PJ Harvey. It’s darkness tricked into peppiness; it’s a pretty catchy song, and it sort of reminds me of what Woodstock might have felt like. DISCLAIMER – I didn’t see the whole video because I was working on a paper at the same time, so I didn’t see the scanty claddenness until later. I apologize. I changed the video to a recording of the song. Your eyes should be able to heal now.
Remember how tomorrow is the last day of class? Remember how next Tuesday is my last final for the semester? I keep telling myself this hoping I’ll eventually care. I need to try something else.
Oh, awesome. The person to my right in this computer lab is reading a fanfic site forum, and the guy to my left is playing one of those shooting games as well as watching 30 Seconds to Mars videos. Look who else isn’t caring about school!
I was scanning the Ad Board on campus this morning while waiting on the bus to work. When I saw this photo, I thought of Hemingway, but I also thought of the bloke who doesn’t get to wear the ring. Similarly, my heart broke.
“Are there normalforms for the pronounciation [sic] of words?”
Then I said under my breath, but loud enough for the person sitting in front of me, “Like the word pronounciation?”
Then the person in front of me turned her head and whispered, “That word is so ironic.”
When I was in third grade, my young brain was just starting to make associations between words. I knew the word pronounce, and I figured its noun derivative describing the act of pronouncing would be pronounciation. When I heard my third grade teacher, Mrs. Hamlin, say – or, pronounce – it, I thought she said it incorrectly. You see, Mrs. Hamlin got me into watching Jeopardy!, which came on right after Wheel of Fortune. This was especially fun, because it lengthened the TV lineup on Tuesdays, which included Who’s the Boss? (with Growing Pains and Perfect Strangers the next year) and on Fridays, which aired Webster and Mr. Belvedere.
Anyway, I couldn’t imagine my teacher being wrong, because Jeopardy! is awesome with all their smart people, so I made a mental note that it was pronounced “pronunciation.” Just like how it’s spelled. No O for a blended vowel sound. My tender, eight-year-old brain absorbed that. My classmate was right to imply how people mispronounce a word describing how words are uttered. And it seems that the person who posed the question holds to what I consider my third-grade association. And when I look up the pronunciations of the word in a current dictionary, two are correct, one of them being the wrong one.
And that’s because everyone else got stuck in the third-grade place in their brains, and somebody got tired of correcting everyone else, so some grand arbiter of the dictionary allowed the faulty pronunciation. I can make some concessions in the evolution of our language, but man, I feel so sorry for English.
So, yes, classmate. My normalform for the pronunciation of pronunciation also happens to be the only true pronunciation in my mind. All others are corrupt and incorrect. Which is what normalform means.
