Is it OK to use semi-colloquial phrases and sayings in professional writing now? If so, color me happy as a clam, because my ship just came in.
I was reading some of Roger Ebert's recent reviews on his website at 2:00 AM this morning, which in and of itself could be the subject of a depressing, soul-searching blotry, focusing on why my life is so empty that I can while away hours reading what a 63 year old fat man thinks of Nacho Libre, while at the same time being terrified of going to sleep, knowing that the next day will only bring more hollow sorrow and torment. But I won't write that blotry. I think I pretty much covered it with that last sentence, actually. Instead, I'll direct your attention to aforementioned Nacho Libre review, in particular the first sentence of the last paragraph, which begins and ends thusly: "I dunno." That's it. I dunno.
Think about that for a minute and I will too.
I dunno. I've used that phrase so many times in AIM conversations that I've lost count, or I would have lost count by now if at some point more than, say, a week ago I had decided to keep a count, which I never have.
But what's so galling about it is that it doesn't mean anything. I dunno. It's just an empty phrase designed to fill dead space. As the great Conan O'Brien once said, to paraphrase, "nobody was saying anything, and someone needed to say something, so I just started saying words." That's I dunno's function. It's just words. They don't really mean anything, but they're designed to comfort, to express uncertainty, doubt, or soften a hard statement. "I think we're seeing too much of each other. We're moving too fast. I dunno." "It's not that I don't want_1_7/103-8465812-5427860?s=books&v=glance&n=283155"target="_blank">Madagascar.
Merci Leno.
I was reading some of Roger Ebert's recent reviews on his website at 2:00 AM this morning, which in and of itself could be the subject of a depressing, soul-searching blotry, focusing on why my life is so empty that I can while away hours reading what a 63 year old fat man thinks of Nacho Libre, while at the same time being terrified of going to sleep, knowing that the next day will only bring more hollow sorrow and torment. But I won't write that blotry. I think I pretty much covered it with that last sentence, actually. Instead, I'll direct your attention to aforementioned Nacho Libre review, in particular the first sentence of the last paragraph, which begins and ends thusly: "I dunno." That's it. I dunno.
Think about that for a minute and I will too.
I dunno. I've used that phrase so many times in AIM conversations that I've lost count, or I would have lost count by now if at some point more than, say, a week ago I had decided to keep a count, which I never have.
But what's so galling about it is that it doesn't mean anything. I dunno. It's just an empty phrase designed to fill dead space. As the great Conan O'Brien once said, to paraphrase, "nobody was saying anything, and someone needed to say something, so I just started saying words." That's I dunno's function. It's just words. They don't really mean anything, but they're designed to comfort, to express uncertainty, doubt, or soften a hard statement. "I think we're seeing too much of each other. We're moving too fast. I dunno." "It's not that I don't want_1_7/103-8465812-5427860?s=books&v=glance&n=283155"target="_blank">Madagascar.
Merci Leno.
posted by Michael at 11:00 AM
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