WHAT’S LIT, PUSSYCAT?
The Pedant Class and Your Stars
WORDS, like babies, are conceived and born in all kinds of places. Some words can trace their ancestry back hundreds of years. Others are of unknown parentage. Some achieve renown; others languish in ignominy.
Just like infants, words have no idea where the fates may lead them. They are at the mercy of human caprice, unable to predict how they will be used or how their meaning might change from day to day.
If you believe in karma, it would seem only fair that a word born into misery eventually gets its turn to enjoy a bit of sweet delight. Take “dank”, for instance. It used to describe something unpleasantly damp, as in “a dank and mouldy cellar”, but has taken on new sparkle as slang for “seriously cool”.
Dank seems to have followed the example of “dope”, which began life as a type of gravy before becoming liquid opium, then marijuana, and then “good”. Dank was similarly appropriated by the dope generation (using dope here in its second-to-last incarnation) as a word to describe green stuff of particular ferocity. From there it became generally cool. Dank is usually found attached to the word “meme” (invented by evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins) but it can also be applied to other dank stuff.
Another word enjoying current favour is “lit”. Once a euphemism for “drunk”, lit is now “awesome”, according to my post-millennial friend. But beware: if you use “lit” to describe a person, you are being undank. Lit is mostly reserved for parties, places and happenings.
A post-millennial, incidentally, is someone born between 1995 and 2012, also known as Generation Z. Those born between 1977 and 1994 are known either as millennials or members of Generation Y.
What will marketing prophets call the next lot of consumers? My money is on Generation C, which stands for Confused. Although that label could equally apply to my lot (Generation X) if you consider how this investigation began. Some months ago, I received an invitation to a “lit fest”. I already knew about the Franschhoek Literary Festival, the Open Book Festival, the Kingsmead Book Fair and various others, but here was a brand-new event for lovers of literature. How awesome, dope and dank, I thought. Further scrutiny, however, revealed this to be a party involving live music but with no mention of authors or readers. My post-millennial friend thinks my confusion is hilarious.
I got my own back by challenging her with the word “woke”. She gave me side eyes as though I were the least dank person ever, but to be fair she is only 12. Woke will arrive in its own time.
Purists might shudder at the use of “woke” as an adjective, but I rather like it. “Woke” was startled out of verbified hibernation in a 2008 song by Erykah Badu, who urged those striving for equality to “stay woke”. It is now a widespread term for enlightened, culturally aware and open-minded. Being woke is pretty dank, in other words.
MTV, that oracle of social matters, declared “woke” top of its list of teen slang for 2016. The previous incumbent was “on fleek”, an expression with no etymological antecedents. “On fleek”, meaning good, cool, dope, dank and exactly right, was immaculately conceived about two years ago by an American teenager called Peaches Monroee, who posted an online video in which she admired her “on fleek” eyebrows.
If dank could come out of the cellar and lit could come out of the bar, there is no reason why on fleek should not come from Peaches. So now you know. Stay woke. LS
It began life as a type of gravy before becoming liquid opium