Did you ever wonder who makes up all those definitions in your slang dictionaries? Bet you thought it was some pencil-necked geek with terminal carpal-tunnel syndrome, didn't you? That's not the case, linguistically challenged one.
Our vocabulary is reinvented on a daily basis but not by wordmongers wearing pocket protectors, not even by (and this will surprise you to no end) The State Press opinion columnists.
It's the bureaucrats and politicians, actually. For instance, Tempe bureaucrats almost slipped one by us recently. Discussing the drought and steps that the city will be taking to conserve water, Tom Gallier, the Tempe water utilities manager, noted that there would be no cuts to the billion-gallon lake because it would harm the ecosystem. It took a few minutes to realize that "ecosystem" has a new meaning: "economic system."
Think about it. Tempe's upscale mayor has pinned the town's economic future on long-term maintenance of a lake in a desert environment. That must be the new definition of "common sense," don't you think? Of course, they're not the only ones stretching the "E" word out of shape.
Dubya and his logging cronies regularly talk about harvesting timber as "preserving the ecosystem." That would be the "eco" that they take all the way to the bank. That would be the "compassionate conservative" who set a record for executions per minute as governor of Texas.
Don't think for a minute, though, that the fine art of "redefinition" is confined to people already in office. Just think about what you've already heard on the campaign trail (and dread what you're going to hear in the next few weeks).
Did you have the mistaken idea that Republican gubernatorial candidate Matt Salmon is a lobbyist? Just because he's raking in thousands of dollars a month for doing all the things lobbyists do? You big silly, you. Matt's not a lobbyist, he's a "consultant." Just ask him.
You probably thought that eliminating loopholes in the tax codes was, well, eliminating loopholes. Matt tells it like it is: It's not closing loopholes for big business, it's "raising taxes." Something he, of course, vows never to do. "Never," of course, translates as, "until I've been in office long enough to realize that's the only way to balance the budget."
Matt's not the only one inventing new meanings for old words. Janet Napolitano, for instance, has become the latest politician who "experimented" with pot during her university days. Don't know who the first was to use that term, but he/she sure found a new way to define, "lived in a smoky haze for four years."
All this reminds me of the baking industry's use of "enriched." They say that they have enriched bread with 27 vitamins and minerals. What they don't tell us is that they first remove about 50 elements from the wheat. Now, I don't know about you, but if somebody sticks a gun in my ribs and takes $50 and then feels sorry for me and gives me $27 back, I'm not running down the street hollering, "Eureka, I've been enriched!"
But then, I've never wanted to run for public office. That takes someone who's a hell of a lot more certain than I am that they have all the answers to all of society's problems.
I'm just trying to get through this smoky haze phase with the least amount of harm done and the greatest amount of help given.
Whatever that means.
Terry Moore is an English grad student. Reach him at: limerick@asu.edu.
