The weather has been miserably hot. Miserably humid. I’ve maybe been whining about it
without ceasing a bit.
But all that weird weather has been making for some stunning skies and amazing evenings at the beach this last week. I. Can’t. Even.
So, can I make a confession? I get kinda judgy about words. And I get kinda really judgy about “grownups” adopting kids’ trendy verbiage. And I’m all like, I get really REALLY, like, I-Can’t-Even judgy about my peers sprinkling their conversations liberally with “likes”. It literally makes me crazy. (see what I did there? and even inside these parentheses?) Judgy isn’t pretty and I’m not making a case for my-way-or-the-highway. I’m just confessing. And linking – for the first and likely last time ever – to Slate, who’s making a pretty solid case for defending the usage of I-Can’t-Even. The author equates this silly phrase with the ancient Greek rhetorical device of “aposiopesis”, which is a “figure of speech wherein a sentence is deliberately broken off and left unfinished, the ending to be supplied by the imagination, giving an impression of unwillingness or inability to continue.” (definition source: Wikipedia) The Slate author shows how this particular rhetorical device has been brilliantly used by Virgil in the Aeneid, Shakespeare in King Lear, and even more [relatively] recently by … the Three Stooges. I really like arguments that use the Ancients’ wisdom to justify and educate. In her conclusion, the author asks & answers the question: “So are Americans suffering from a profound lack of ability to process their emotions? Maybe. Are they suffering from a profound lack of communication skills? Definitely not. They're simply doing more with less.” But. Much though I appreciate ancient wisdom and smart wordsmiths like Virgil and Shakespeare, I completely disagree with this journalist’s conclusion. I think people today just want to sound trendy.
And so, I-Can’t-Even has become the newest mock-worthy phrase in Kellerville.