The Skyline Newspaper

Cartoon: Created and Designed by Jonathan Smith, Sul Ross Senior

1984 reezns y netspeak iz ++ungud...lol, Big Bro

By David Johnson
Skyline Contributor

If you don't understand the title, in Standard English that says, "1984 reasons why netspeak is doubleplusungood", and if you don't understand what that means, you should brush up on your mid-20th century British literature.

Although Orwellian allusions have now become common to the point of cliché, this one is not intended as an exaggeration in any way. Netspeak is quite possibly the worst development in the history of human language because it isn't just a new slang that makes you appear stupid, it's a language that makes you stupid.

Netspeak is Newspeak.

In his classic dystopian novel "1984," George Orwell warned of a very scary future for us all, albeit a future now nearly a quarter century behind us. For all of the descriptions of endless war, complete government awareness and control of every aspect of human life, and nightmarish torture chambers punishing "unorthodoxy," what might be most frightening is Orwell's invention of "Newspeak," a language developed by the Party to decrease English vocabulary by removing all shades and overlappings of meaning, supposedly to make it more simple and less wasteful.

For example, what use is "good" and "bad" when one is just the opposite of the other? "Ungood" works just as well. Why "excellent" when "plusgood" conveys the same thing?

In actual fact, however, Newspeak is meant to reduce language to such a basic level that no subversive thought is even possible, or if it were, it couldn't be expressed to another person.

In the beginning, writing was a way for rulers to keep track of how many sheep and sheaves of wheat their subjects paid them in taxes. It was a system so complex, only scribes could learn it, and it took them years of intense study to learn how to say essentially nothing at all. It was the Phoenician merchants who gave us our familiar script and made it useful and Guttenberg's printing press which made reading and writing practical to the common person.

Gift above all gifts, we have the ability to read and write almost anything anywhere. So naturally we no longer care.

Think of letters from your grandparents or especially those History Channel documentaries where they have someone read Civil War soldiers' correspondence with their families. It's damn near poetry. The effort each person gave to composing his or her thoughts for a person who probably wouldn't read it for weeks is astounding.

Yet now what do we do? Many myspace users don't care about the difference between "you're" and "your" and likely even "ur," no matter how much of an idiot it makes them seem (and it does). How much time would it have taken for the extra two letters; how much time to copy & paste into Microsoft Word and run a spellcheck? By investing no time in writing it, they prove no one else should invest time to read or think about it.

You might instant message or talk in chatrooms, most likely text message, too. And you use shorthand because obviously it's easier and faster than saying the whole thing ("idk my bff jill"). This is understandable.

But there's still no concern for precision, no time taken for precision, in fact nothing worthwhile at all being expressed. Because nothing worthwhile can be expressed.

"luv ya".

If we translated that back into Standard English, it would be, "I love you," but that's not actually what it means. A text message saying, "luv ya," could come from anyone who had positive feelings toward you, not necessarily love. Even from a spouse or family member, it is empty, signifying nothing.

If so basic a concept is destroyed by netspeak, what of more complex things? How would you express disapproval with U.S. foreign policy in netspeak? Something like, "i h8 teh gvmt bush sux cuz hes stupud lol," probably.

I'm not saying netspeak will bring about the apocalypse. What I am saying is that it is further lowering the quality of discourse in our generation and eventually our country because the people coming behind us are going to be worse than we are.

If we don't even spend time to compose words in a forum post, an e-mail, or a personal profile—lasting things!—how much more won't they say when their generation reaches maturity?

War iz pees
frdm iz slavry
ignorance iz strength
…lol

Grousing and Chousing Over Housing Mousing

Steve Lang
News and Publications

I hate meeces to pieces!" - Tomcat Jinx from the "Pixie and Dixie" cartoon show

Four cats, a dog and a big old guy with a hammer chased one mouse through the garage and into a screen porch one Sunday evening.

"Why don't you just shoot the little #%@*%&$?" I was asked.

Because, I patiently explained, a round or two from a .38 or 12-gauge would accomplish the following things:

• Full-scale law enforcement response;
• An immediate audiology decline from near-deafness to Helen Keller land;
• Citations issued after inadequate explanations;
• More holes in the wall, and;
• A mouse somewhere out of view, holding its sides and laughing hysterically.

Besides, with four cats in the house, gunplay should be unnecessary.

However, anyone who has watched the movie "Mouse Hunt" probably experienced any or all of the futile efforts to trap the little #%@*%&$.

Those who viewed "The Green Mile" found equal validation: the little #%@*%&$s do live indefinitely, long after we mortals sink below room temperature.

Thus, after spinning the cylinder and checking the pump slide on two of my firearms, I boarded up two conspicuous holes after stuffing them with D-con.

Given my disdain for snap traps, I may also resort to the stick-'em pads.

"Not unless you want to snip the pad off one of the cat's feet," I was told, then learned of a past episode where the price of curiosity for a Blue Persian kitten was an unexpected haircut.

I heard another hint of alarm during a staff meeting, when I described the chase scene and suggested solutions in response to the question, "What made you mad this week?"

"You don't want to have them drag the pad off whimpering and die a slow death, do you?"

Well, yes, I said. The entire vermin population of an abandoned warehouse is welcome to party, dance or hold a Renaissance Festival on a neighboring yard, as long as they stay away from my house.

Yes, I am aware that "humane" includes "u" and "me," but in terms of conciliatory feelings toward mice, count "me" out.

As for shooting mice, I only need to consider an episode of my youth to exercise restraint.

A friend and I shared a lake cabin in central Minnesota. One Saturday night, when lack of funds, transportation or sheer exhaustion found both of us home for the evening, we blinked in disbelief as a mouse dashed in front of the fireplace.

"Must have been a delayed image of the TV program," we decided.

Moments later, the vision reappeared, dashing back across the living room floor to a hole on the other side of the fireplace.

On the third sprint, we were ready, but a size-12 boot and a size-11 tennis shoe both missed the target. So did a barrage of aluminum cans on the fourth jaunt, and three plastic glasses, a metal paperweight and possibly a desk guide of treatment of common diseases for hedgehogs on the fifth.

Although chemistry was not our long suit, Ivan hatched a plan.

"He lives under the floor," he whispered. "Let's shoot him."

Ivan took my cross-eyed glance of astonishment as an assent. He extracted a 12-gauge shotgun shell from a box in the hallway, then reached for his Remington.

"Even if you hit it, how would you know?" I asked. "I don't think the Pope County Sheriff's Office has a forensics department."

"Watch this," he said, uttering what I would later learn were the most frightening two words in the redneck vocabulary.

He took out a jack knife, poked the blade in the bottom of the shell, pulled out the crimped plastic straight and poured the number-six lead pellets into my palm.

Ivan closed the crimping, loaded the shell into the chamber, and we crept toward the hole by the fireplace.

Ivan poked the barrel into the hole, flicked off the safety and pulled the trigger.

The "whoomp!" of the report was not soon followed by a white flag of surrender, nor a tiny rodent racing out of the hole, front paws covering its ears.

Instead, a thin trickle of smoke expanded into a bright yellow flame, as the sparked gunpowder ignited the mouse's mattress and other home furnishings.

Three quarts of water later, the minor blaze was extinguished, but two nights later, the mouse took revenge by crawling inside Ivan's brother's sleeping bag.

When Dean kicked in surprise, he was rewarded with a bite below his knee.

One evening later, my sister and brother-in-law visited. After hearing the mouse tales, Roger calmly rummaged in a kitchen drawer, extracted a trap and set it.

A resounding "snap" a few hours later ended the scenario and probably saved the dwelling from further over-zealous intentions.

Therefore, that's why I don't shoot the little #%@*%&$...

...of course, I haven't gotten a clear shot yet, either.

Steve Lang wonders why no Disney characters were cats.

Fiscal Health Pays Off

Nurse John Hughes
Guest Columnist

Decision making skills improve with a better understanding of risk.

Wellness discussions attempt to highlight the down side of engaging in unhealthy behaviors. But even with fitness gurus there is no guarantee of staying healthy.

Regardless of who people are or what they do, there is a very real risk of fiscal turmoil any time serious injury and disease come calling.

The impact of health costs on limited resources should be considered when developing a personal financial portfolio. After all, unexpected afflictions could delete years of savings and/or potential income.

The insurance market offers loads of products to help manage potential health related risks threatening the checkbook. Keep in mind, however, that insurance is only as good as its usability.

In other words, don't purchase something that does not serve your needs.

The first consideration is to make sure your health plan pays the bill. Indemnity policies are obligated to do this regardless of where services are rendered. Determine if the health care provider accepts the scheduled customary fees, as any charges above these amounts are the insured person's responsibility.

Next, look carefully at a policy's limitations and exclusions. Having insurance does not mean every situation is covered. For example, sports injuries, pregnancies, dental problems and ambulance transport may require additional coverage.

Most insurers want your business and will be happy to explain their policy provisions.

And, don't forget the price tag. Health insurance is not cheap. So shop carefully.

The more deductible a person is willing to assume the lower the premium. A group plan also helps with keeping cost down while providing adequate benefits. Some college campuses and student organizations sponsor affordable group plans because they have a large pool of participants to help share the risk.

SRSU's health services web page offers help navigating the uncertain waters of health insurance.However, the final decision is yours. How well do you understand the risk?

Letter to the Editor:
The World Is So Cold

I consider myself a "warm" person. Not necessarily in a poetic way but more in a literal way, I am comfortable in warm environments and appreciate a healthy high core body temperature. I also really like winter--sound odd?

Well, the reason is the basis of one of my biggest complaints about institutions, the temperature settings.

In winter, there is an obligation to keep buildings warm; the temperatures are set high and our clothing serves to keep us warm from the cold elements. Society is making a valiant effort to keep everything warm, and this is what I appreciate.

Unfortunately, my complaint is being made too late in the year as the cold season is descending upon us, but I was only reminded this morning when I woke up, curled like a pill bug in an apartment in which my roommate insists on turning the air conditioner on every night; and it's October - Oc-freakin-tober. However, my occasional murderous tendencies toward my roommate are not the issue here so much as is the fact that I live in a world where everyone insists on keeping the buildings freezing cold for the sake of institution.

I'll elaborate on my use of "institution": while acknowledging a necessary reason for cold buildings, an institution necessarily must keep a cool temperature to maintain a degree of institution; coldness reflects the nature of law, and logic, cold, inflexible and untouched by warmth and emotions.

Work can still continue if somehow the thermostat system is on the fritz in winter: everyone can simply wear the
jackets they brought, but, oh, heaven forbid the air conditioner breaks down in summer: the doors are left open, the lights turned off and the office is closed for the day.

Of course, no complaint is useful without a proposal for solution. I am not a complainer by nature; I'm a doer.

But, unfortunately, my attempt this morning to push the earth to a more desirable position facing the sun did not work as I'd expected, so until I gain the ability to alter physics, (which I suspect is any day now), I can only suggest that the cold temperature has been pushed further and further down throughout history without a major dissension; people all around me actually complain about it often. My only suggestion therefore is to consider the cold temperature doesn't have to be so exaggerated and that humans are more resilient than the institution gives them credit for.

Angel Navarette