Extreme Meaninglessness

Note: This is my "End Of The Line" column for the April issue of State College Magazine

There was a time, and I don’t think it was all that long ago, when words meant something. A single word could describe a feeling, an object, or an action. I have always been fascinated with words because I realized a long time ago that words are symbols of things, and not the things themselves. The complexity of human thought and emotion is enormous, and all we have to communicate those thoughts and emotions to one another is words, both written and spoken. And most of the time, words bear the heavy burden we have placed upon them quite nicely.

In recent years, language standards even among professionals have eroded considerably. In the three or so decades in which I have been involved in media, vocabulary, pronunciation and grammar used by broadcasters and other communicators have taken a decided turn for the worse. I was, however, relatively confidant that words still meant something. Until the other day, that is. I was pushing a cart through the aisle at Giant, when I saw something that made me realize that words can now mean anything anyone wants them to mean. There on the shelf was a box of something called “Extreme Pudding Sticks.” They were made by Jell-o, if memory serves.

If that doesn’t at least raise an eyebrow, think about this: If you had asked your parents to bring home some Extreme Pudding Sticks the next time they went shopping, they would have given you one of those concerned looks, and later you may have found the telltale signs of parental snooping through your dresser drawers.

Very dangerous sports performed by crazy people apparently gave rise to the current usage of the word “extreme.” Sports such as skiing down the side of a tall building and jumping out of an airplane while strapped to a rabid pit bull. And “extreme” used in this context is apt: it describes the danger level (and apparently the adrenaline rush) which is inherent in these stunts, as well as the level of mental deterioration displayed by the young knuckleheads who engage in such activities. Advertisers realize, of course, that “extreme sports” are considered cool by those who will be our leaders in a few short years. And hoping to cash in on the cachet, they make sure that “extreme” takes on a whole new meaning which, unfortunately, renders it meaningless. What is less extreme than pudding? And since when did something as floppy as pudding come in a solid form like a stick? So if pudding is a stick, that means “pudding” doesn’t mean what it used to, and it seems likely that “stick” doesn’t either. Hence the entire phrase “Extreme Pudding Sticks” doesn’t seem to mean anything at all.

Remember “awesome”? There’s a word that, in my mind at least, used to conjure images of the Grand Canyon, and choirs of angels, and those beams of light coming through the clouds that used to appear on the covers of gospel music albums. But not long ago, I did a very minor favor for a young colleague, and in a subsequent thank you email, she said that it had been “awesome” of me. No choir of angels there. She also said that I “rock.” Which is a compliment, I realize. I almost emailed back and told her that in point of fact, I had been rocking since long before she was born, but that seemed unnecessarily curmudgeon-like.

Another word which has just about lost its meaning is “literally.” Most people now use it when what they actually want to use is its opposite, which is “figuratively.” I once heard a news reporter during election night coverage say, “Here at headquarters, the candidate is so excited he’s literally bouncing off the walls.” Sounded painful to me. And there goes another perfectly good word, now casually flung onto the meaningless pile. How extremely awesome.