The Brexit vote in the UK set off a global panic. In part, because we assumed that people in England, if not the rest of the United Kingdom, would always think about a decision and be sensible. They would never vote without knowing what the implications of that issue might be. Apparently, we’ve been wrong.
The first problem is the word “Brexit.” It’s a combination word, and I think that is why Europe is coming apart. We are not using enough words now. Words were a way, in the olden times, like the 1990s, to actually describe something in detail and debate it. Think of the most powerful places to communicate now—non-existent “platforms” named, ironically, “Twitter,” “Instagram,” “Facebook” and “YouTube.” Four major media with only 27 letters total between them. We don’t use enough letters and words anymore.
The Brexit, we are told, has great impact for the POTUS election and thereby SCOTUS appointments. And I don’t really know what I just said.
Because we now use pictures instead of words—after all a picture is worth a thousand, so 20 pix is 20K, right? The core problem is the flopendemic of Slurrds (for old people, this means, “a flood and epidemic of slurring words together.” Get with it, Geriatrics). Brexit is the chief example. Brexit sounds like a breakfast cereal. When I went to England years ago, there was a cereal called, “Wheatabix.” I am sure confused many voters. “Exit from cereal? Sure.”
Because according to a story I read recently, cereal consumption has declined 30% in fifteen years, mostly due to millennials, who, according to the story, dislike it because you have to use a bowl and then clean it. It’s inconvenient. I mean rinsing out a bowl and putting it in the dishwasher uses up, what? 15-20 seconds. You might miss a tweet or a cat picture, I guess.
This speeding up of life is sending us to a cliff. “Nukes for everybody? Well, I guess. No time to think. I mean, if you have to get to a flob (flash mob) you can’t use up a lot of time voting, reading, and going to the bathroom. Those astronaut diapers are just the beginning.
This is how we came up with so many durds (double words). All of our celebrities are in Siamese pairs now. Brangelina, Benlo, as though they had been spliced in that machine in “The Fly.” Used to be you only saw slurrds on supermarket newsstands, when you only had 6 seconds to read while the baby is grabbing GooGoo clusters from the rack and the guy in front of you finishes buying 9 bags of cheetos, a diet Coke and a bottle of Maalox.
Now our “news” outlets, vying for our shrinking attention spans, have resorted to Slurrds in an effort to keep us from flipping the remote (come to think of it, “remote” is a scary word. I mean, remote also means, “far, far away.”).
Poor words have been warped and crammed into inadequate space. They can’t keep up. So we might vote with images in the future. So I return to BREXIT. It’s confusing. It sounds so focused and efficient. “Let’s BREXIT.” Not like the EU. Terrible Slurrd. When someone does something gross in our country we sometimes say, “EEEEEEEEYYYYOOOOOOOUUUUU! Gross!” So you’ve got a nice, efficient short little slurrd BREXIT or something associated with bad odors. Which would you choose?
So choose your slurrds carefully. A badozen slurrd could unexpesult in unanticiquences. And please, for the future of humanity, take time to pour yourself a bowl of cereal in the morning. It can wait.
2 thoughts on “BREXIT and the Flopidemic of Slurrds”
You made me laugh soooo hard.. Should that be hardly? You hardly made me laugh?
Hard or hardly, Mary Jo, the laugh’s the thing. We might as well laugh at the absurdity of this moment, hadn’t we? Thanks!
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