Literally

No one ever seems to have a problem when you say you need to "vent."

"You go, girl!" they say (if you're female).  They say venting is a healthy.  They say it's good for your blood pressure and your immune system.

Everybody should vent, they say.

The dictionary definition of "venting" is: To express one's opinions or feelings, especially forcefully.

Odd, because it sounds perilously similar to "complaining," which is defined as: To express feelings of pain, displeasure or resentment.

Nobody likes a complainer, so I will take this moment to be a venter.

Warning: my vents have been known to turn into rants, which is an altogether different animal.

~

Most of you know I am repulsed by WalMart and I frequent the place only in moments of despair.

Yet every time I go there, I end up with awesome writing material; WalMart never fails to deliver the goods -- something that just drives me over the edge.

A recent adventure to my least favorite store was no different.  And it confirmed something I suspected a while ago:  the most misused term in today's American vernacular is the word "literally."

I hear the word desecrated all the time and it makes my skin crawl.

It's not unlike the consistent cross-contamination of "then" and "than."  Or the chronic misspelling of definately.

It's spelled DEFINITELY, with an I.  Not an A.  C'mon, people!  Memorize it.  It's literally that easy.

Anyway... back to my original gripe.

So I was at WalMart pharmacy the other day, looking for Anusol (for a friend), and I overheard the following conversation:

"I love that guy.  He's actually my cousin, but he's literally my brother."

Now, unless you're from Alabama or Wisconsin, it is doubtful the same person is a cousin and a sibling.  (I suppose it's possible, but it doesn't take an advanced degree in genetics to realize the ghastly implications.  I appreciate the fact that the world needs a little more love, but not like that.)

I reckon.

Another overheard conversation by the in-store McDonald's at WalMart (a redneck marriage made in heaven, by the way):

"Oh mah Gawd, I so hun-gary.  I didn't eat me no supper.  I literally starving until death."

(editor's note: judging by the physique of the speaker in the above quote, fewer than two meals had been missed in her entire lifetime)

Perhaps Jabba felt like she was "starving until death," but unless you got between her and a 20-piece Chicken McNuggets with Creamy Ranch dipping sauce, death was not imminent.

Starving until death.

Now, am I being too judgmental here?  Perhaps.  But it's my blog.  Seek out political correctness elsewhere.

Or how about this one, while browsing (for a friend) in the Danica Patrick tee shirt section:

"When Ma farted in the Chevy, I literally died."

Now, if you literally gagged or perhaps had an unpleasant episode of dry-heaves after the above tumultuous event, that would be believable.

But if you literally died after Ma farted in the Chevy, you literally wouldn't be able to tell the story, because dead people literally don't talk.

The truth is, the word "literally" is not only misused, it's misunderstood.  "Literally" means "exactly; without exaggeration."

And these folks were all exaggerating to make their point, which is ironic... (yet another hopelessly misused word, which is ironic in itself).

The word that should be used in each of these scenarios is "figuratively," which means "metaphorical, not literal."    

But "metaphorical" is a big-ass college word.  And I'm guessing we'd better not go there.

~

The most ridiculous part of all of this:  The people who murder the English language are the very knuckleheads who postulate, "If ya can't talk English, git outta 'Murica."

These are the same entitled bunch who think "American" is an actual language, believe owning a $300 smartphone is a constitutional right, and can't understand why they're supposed to take off their Duck Dynasty caps during the National Anthem.

Some people need to be slapped with a shovel.  Twice.  Thrice.  Literally.

Now, I don't want this little diatribe to make me sound holier-than-thou.  There's already enough of that in this country.  But I don't think I'm asking for much.

All I'm asking for is a little mastery of this language for which we supposedly have such reverence.

And so the war beings.  I am going to end this insufferable grammatical epidemic, one person at a time.  Single-handedly if I have to.

Call it a personal crusade for all things good.

This means I'm going back to WalMart.  And amid the duct tape, Axe body spray, ill-fitting dentures and Copenhagen, the next time I overhear somebody say they literally crapped their pants, I will stop them and ask if they are sure that's the word they mean to use.

Do they really need to perform perineal hygiene (which, I'm guessing, is an infrequent occurrence anyway), or are they just speaking figuratively?

After the blank stare I am sure to receive, what's the worst that could happen?

I mean, literally.