‘The Death of the Dictionary’

As an A-level English Language student, I find myself in equal amounts dismayed yet intrigued at the latest addition to the Oxford English Dictionary: the modernism ‘LOL’, now characterised as an actual lexical term (and totally credible in a game of Scrabble).

Intrigue? Yes, partly as to the direction the English language is going in (an eternal downwards spiral?), but more in relation to the way the generations appear to be blending. Anyone over 25 might once have been belligerent at the very mention of the fabled acronym, but it appears this distinction between the generations is fading. Graeme Diamond, the OED's principal editor for new words, explains the choice to include ‘LOL’ in the latest edition of the dictionary: "The word is common, widespread, and people understand it.” If it is so widespread, then perhaps the older members of our community are indeed embracing the young, hip, text speak that so defines our younger generation’s vocabulary?

So yes, this intrigues me. I myself know a few adults inclined to use it in written speak; mainly texts or emails, but am yet to hear anyone beyond my age group actually utter the phrase aloud. This might not be so remarkable were two variations of the acronym not featured in the OED: both a capitalised version, so as to the pronunciation of all three letters, and a lowercase version, by which ‘lol’ is uttered as a word. While the first is conceded by the OED as “used chiefly in electronic communications”, the second is more often said aloud. Based on my own perceptions and experiences of the older generations, the second variant is debatable as to its widespread use. Even within the social boundaries of the younger age groups, I very rarely hear ‘lol’ said aloud, much less all three letters in its capitalised form ‘LOL’. If it is spoken, in most cases it carries much irony – so whilst it is understood, it is understood for different connotations (and thus perhaps Oxford’s definition of ‘to express amusement’ needs revising somewhat). Either way, I am not yet ready to believe ‘LOL’ is so widespread and commonly understood so as to deserve a place in the OED.

Dismay comes in my purist lexical side, derived from my English language studies but also comfortably within my mindset prior to sixth form classes – long have I detested the use of the word said aloud; I cannot argue that even I tend to use it in casual written lexis (texts or even Facebook comments), nor do I particularly dispute the disparaging means by which one of my colleagues uses it in place of full stops in most of his informal written contexts. But I do find myself dismayed at any soul who wishes to convey vocally an acronym of the type that ‘LOL’ has become; be it ‘OMG’, ‘CBA’ or ‘TBH’. All simply serve to reflect the laziness and lexical deterioration of the 21st Century generation – I have heard reports of teachers being handed GCSE English essays written almost entirely in text speak. While a little extreme, I feel that example alone serves to highlight my dismay and concern: I’m all for a little ‘lolling’, but not at the cost of the very language we speak.

Of course, I am not against change whatsoever: as Graeme Diamond argues, “There will always be a minority who want the English language to remain as a frozen beast, that doesn't admit changes. But language is a vibrant, evolving animal." In an albeit roundabout sort of way, Diamond has it – of course, language change is vital for the evolution of language in the context of everyday life, else we’d not have a faintest clue what an adverb is or the realms of possibility offered through ‘borrowed words’ (i.e. those brought from other languages).

But that’s not to say we should include every Tom, Dick and Harry acronym that rolls our way.

MacKenzie’s gone and made a right Clegg of himself

Kelvin MacKenzie has launched a scathing attack on modern journalism; dismissing university courses in the field as a waste of time, he calls for the closure of all journalism schools. But with what reason?

An interview first undertaken by City University student Harriet Thurley - check out her Twitter profile here - was yesterday picked up on by The Independent (which initially printed it without citation), and caused quite a stir amongst the media folk. Most dismissed MacKenzie’s dated ramblings; I read a particularly insightful comment from one Independent reader - “It sounds like Kelvin is still in an eighties time-warp. Eighteen-Eighties that is.” And it’s not just this, MacKenzie’s horribly out-of-sync frame of mind, but the fact he’s seemingly gone and done a Clegg.

You might have read recently about Deputy Prime Minister Nick Clegg’s intentions to make work experience fairer with the abolition of internships, but this comes from the man who got where he is today through precisely such ‘who you know’ methodology. MacKenzie’s own rant mirrors Clegg’s situation impeccably: while Kelvin feels that 18-year-olds nowadays should simply “try and achieve three decent A-levels, go to a local paper, then to a regional, and then head out on to nationals or magazines by 21-22”, things have changed in the past few decades. This just isn’t possible anymore; no local paper will give you a second look without some kind of qualification. MacKenzie’s argument of ‘learning on the job’ is equally ignorant, as most local papers are horribly understaffed - nobody has the time to train a new reporter from scratch.

Kelvin claims there is no merit in going to university if you want to be a print journalist. University is about finding yourself; indeed, under a journalism course, finding your writing style, your knack for the subject (should it exist) - the bitter ramblings of MacKenzie, who had no opportunity to attend such courses himself, might sing a different tune had he had the chance to do so - “not only did I not sit A-levels I only got one 0-level despite taking 15 of them over two different examination boards.” So, dear readers: if Kelvin can’t go, none of us can.

Allow me to refer you to City University professor George Brock for further deconstruction of MacKenzie’s inane, misguided prose. I’m sure it will shed some light on the subject from a more neutral viewpoint than I - Professor Brock rightly concedes journalists can be successful without having “ever been anywhere near a journalism course.”

But that doesn’t make them irrelevant.