There is no doubt that we live in an incredible age. It is an era of information and technological innovation. Where once we only had letters for correspondence, we can now video chat from our iPhones with people halfway across the world.
We are the Facebook generation — the generation of texts, tweets and e-mail. In recent years, there has been a grand migration in communication from the telephone calls of yesteryear to these new frontiers of electronic social mediums.
Following this trend, corporations and companies have provided unlimited messaging plans, QWERTY keyboard phones and other advances to sate the growing desire for textual innovation. The number of new conceptions for messaging within the last four years is nothing short of impressive.
It is in light of all of these innovations and creations, however, that I find a singular fault in the system. Despite the vast popularity of both texting and e-mail and the infectious spread of social networks, there has yet to be an effective textual demarcation for sarcasm.
How many times has a joke fallen on deaf ears because it lacked proper emphasis? How many fights were started because one party was unable to denote and explain they were just kidding?
We have all had experiences in our lives in which a singular spurt of texting sarcasm has sapped all the momentum from what seemed to be a bit of friendly banter.
Sarcasm is part of our society. You can flip on the television and watch any show on any network, and there will be at least one example of a conversation held tongue-in-cheek. Just eavesdrop on a nearby dialogue or phone call and you should hear an ironic comment or two.
So, with sarcasm and texting now so ingrained in our everyday lives, why do we still lack some identification for facetiousness? Emoticons are cute but fall short. Caps lock adds strong emphasis while lacking true explanation.
Therefore, I propose until the time when a unique differentiation can be appropriated to identify only sarcasm, two slashes be placed on either side of the statement as an interim notation. That way, you put slants by your words when you’re putting a slant on your words.
Sure, that does mean four of your 160 characters are wasted on identification, but isn’t it worth the lack of grief? I know I’d rather risk sending two messages than face yet another awkward text exchange.
This is undeniably not a perfect solution. I understand that. Maybe slashes aren’t the answer. Nevertheless, until there is an accepted demarcation, we continue to run the risk of sarcasm being lost in translation.
E-mail: smech@indiana.edu
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