Slang in General
I might as well just come out and admit that I hate slang. All slang. I have no use for slang. Its very short shelf-life marks it as being of low quality. Anything that steadily depreciates from the minute you drive it off the lot is obviously a piece of mass-produced junk. Slang is that way. The minute it loses that new-car smell, it’s kitchy.
This does not stop people from using it, however. They keep using it. But now they smirk when they use it. I hate the smirk too.
I recently undertook a project that I am being rather secretive about so as not to jinx myself or alert any possible competitors. My friend Peter, who knows about it, asked me “Is it still on the DL?”
For the longest moment, I stared at him thinking “What fresh hell is this?” because I know that smirk. I like Peter, so I didn’t snarl “Oh, just speak English for God’s sake!” I processed it for a minute and finally remembered that when something is on the DL it means it’s on the down-low which was the cool way to say secret about six months ago.
You know, like “Most people party, just keep it on the down-low.” In LA, this means “Don’t snort coke in the living room. Do it in the bathroom where it can’t be seen from the front door.” All of this makes me shudder, from the lifestyle to the slang it creates.
In reaction, I retreat in despair, once again, to the finest book I’ve ever read, House of Mirth by Edith Wharton. I now know what I should have said to Peter:
“If you take pleasure in annoying me by mysterious insinuations,” I should have said coldly, “you might at least have chosen a more suitable time than just as I am recovering from the strain of a very large dinner.”
