I probably end statements with "so" more frequently than you do, so.
There’s a strange linguistic crutch that’s sweeping the nation. It’s an epidemic of epidemic proportions. I see it on TV, I hear it on the street and I even catch myself mindlessly stumbling into its clutches. I try to stop myself, but it’s kinda addictive, so.
So what? So I should duct-tape my mouth shut until I can complete a thought? Yes, probably I should. But everyone else is doing it, so.
What began as a way of abandoning a thought, letting one’s muse trail off into the realm of infinite possibility, has become a declarative statement. There is no longer an ellipsis after the “so,” as there is when Kristen Wiig’s pathologically lying Saturday Night Live character uses it to one-up somebody. “So” is now a closer: “I’m busy tonight, so.” (So get the hell out of my face.) Most of the time, “so” now stands in for, “So that’s all I have to say on this matter.”
This is actually the second turn for “so” on the pop-culture merry-go-round. The last time was so not cool—don’t worry, I’m so kidding. It so was. The forcibly included-extra-so was popular around the era of the dangling “with,” as in, “I’m so getting in my Hummer H2 and cranking some Destiny’s Child. You want to come with?” I know, so 2004.
I’m curious how these mutations begin. Did someone actually say, “You know, I’m going to start saying ‘same difference’ and see if that catches on”? I want to start some new trends, along the lines of pig Latin or whatever you call the way Snoop Dogg talks. Bascially, you can make up any silly thing and people will latch onto it, because we’re all so bored with talking.
For instance, I’d love to bring back the Prohibition-era gangster “see”. So I’m going to start ending sentences with “see.” And you’re gonna start using it, see? Or I’m gonna get mad, see. Note: you may also have to speak with an exaggerated nasally voice, because humans didn’t develop voices of our current timbre until 1975.
How about this? We all stop using the word “the” and we end our sentences with the word “monkey.” Let’s try: “I’ve got tickets to Celtics game, monkey.” I think I hit nail on head with this idea, monkey!
And people better get on board, because there’s nothing more embarrassing than trying to start a crazy fad and having nobody go along with it. Like when Kris Kross started dressing totally crossed out, expecting that their hit single “Warm it Up Kris” would prompt kids across the nation to go to school with their clothes on backwards. Except nobody did that, because wearing your clothes backwards is stupid. Plus it’s uncomfortable, especially the shoes.
While “so” is the fashionable verbal tic of the masses, every individual has his or her own stable of abused verbiage. I have a friend who’s latched onto the word “literally.” In fact, he’s invented a new spin for “literally” abuse. Normally, someone will test my Language Police self-restraint by saying, “I literally sweat my ass off when I run,” or some other statement that is hopefully not literal. But this fellow injects “literally” into situations that are in fact literal, but just unremarkable. We were driving in his car, and he said, “I literally drove up this road yesterday.” Really? You mean to say you didn’t figuratively drive up this road yesterday? You actually did that? Because without the “literally,” I would’ve assumed you were constructing some sort of allegory, wherein “the road” is the French Revolution and “driving” represents the inherent conflict between the concepts of fate and free will. But I guess you just mean you drove your car here yesterday.
Everybody uses pointless verbal embellishments. Some people say “in other words” before there are any other words. Some people devalue “by the way,” by adding its conspiratorial wink to the most straightforward and mundane statements. Obama invented a new one, the Obama Pause, wherein you prevent yourself from chattering by stressing certain syllables, pausing and dragging out particular words. Annnnnnnddddd that’s how you avoid sounding like Heidi Montag when you’re disCUSSING… matters of national importance.
I’m not above critique, either. I’ve caught myself saying “clearly” a lot. And there’s clearly no way to inject “clearly” into your everyday conversations without sounding like a pompous douche. I also say, “like I might’ve told you,” way too often, because I can never remember what I already discussed with a particular person. Like I might’ve told you, I’ve clearly got some work to do myself. And that’s my column, so.