I

t’s a word you have read a 
million times, it’s a word 
you have used a million 
times, but you have no idea 
what it actually means. An 
initial reaction would be to 
say that “lol” isn’t actually a 
word, it’s an acronym. While 
it is true that in 1989, when it 
is believed that “lol” was first 
used, “lol” did literally mean 
“laugh out loud,” but it is hard 
to argue that is still the case.
Just quickly looking at my 
recent text messages “lol” has 
been used in the following 
ways: 
“Lol 
it’s 
nothing,” 
“Excellent lol,” “Maybe it’s 
not better for u lol?,” “I have 
never heard of him lol,” “lol 
no worries it’s on the second 
floor next to the reference 
room.” While all these texts 
are 
stripped 
from 
their 
context it is pretty clear that 
in none of these conversations 
“lol” was used to mean laugh 
out loud. So what does “lol” 
actually mean? And what role 
does it play in our language?
In a 2008 paper studying 
teen usage of acronyms and 
instant messaging language, 
researchers Sali Tagliamonte 
and Derek Denis find that 
“lol” is used “in the flow of 
conversation as a signal of 
interlocutor involvement, just 
as one might say mm-hm in 
the course of a conversation.” 
This understanding of “lol” is 
certainly useful and describes 
some of the ways “lol” is used. 
If a friend is in the middle 
of sending a series of texts 
telling a story, I often drop 
“lol” in the middle just to let 
them know that I am reading 
and keeping up with what they 
are saying. Tagliamonte’s and 
Denis’s definition, however, 
fails to describe how “lol” 
is being used in most of the 
sample 
texts. 
In 
“I 
have 

never heard of him lol,” the 
“lol” was not at all necessary 
to maintain the flow of the 
conversation, nor did it imply 
the idea of mm-hmm.
John 
McWhorter, 
a 
linguist 
at 
Columbia 
University, 
believes 
that 
“lol” 
“no 
longer 
‘means’ 
anything. Rather, it ‘does 
something’ — conveying an 
attitude — just as the ending 
‘-ed’ doesn’t ‘mean’ anything, 
but conveys past tense. “Lol” 
is, of all things, grammar.” 

McWhorter’s understanding 
of “lol” does a much better job 
of describing the wide variety 
of ways that “lol” is used. In 
all of the sample texts, “lol” 
was used as a way of implying 
a certain tone or adding a 
feeling to the text message.
McWhorter’s 
intuition, 
that “lol” is an attitudinal 
expression 
seems 
correct, 
but his theory can be further 
specified. 
What 
actually 
constitutes grammar is a 
highly theoretical and loaded 
discussion 
that 
linguists 
debate endlessly. “Lol,” in my 
view, should be understood as 
a “symbol” just like commas, 
colons 
and 
exclamation 
points. 
The 
purpose 
of 
symbols within our language 

is to help convey emotion 
and attitude of the delivery 
of words. For example, an 
exclamation point marks that 
something has been said with 
a special amount of vigor and 
emphasis. By adding “lol” 
to the end of “I have never 
heard of him,” I signaled 
to my friend that I had a 
slight bit of embarrassment 
about my ignorance. In the 
example of “Lol it’s nothing,” 
“lol” helped signal that my 
friend wanted to casually 
move on in the conversation. 
If the text read simply as 
“It’s nothing,” the level of 
seriousness and the overall 
mood of the conversation 
would have been a lot more 
unclear to me. 
As texting has become 
a more ubiquitous part of 
society, so has the new forms 
of language that texting has 
brought along with it. If 
my theory is correct — that 
“lol,” more than anything 
else, is used a symbol to help 
express emotion — what does 
the mean for the future of 
“lol?” Will “lol” escape the 
realm of digital messaging 
and seep its way into other 
linguistic contexts? Part of 
my intuitions leans towards 
yes — “lol” is often uttered 
in face-to-face conversation 
without hesitation. Another 
part of me, however, has a 
very hard time imagining a 
world where “lol” is used as 
a grammatical symbol in a 
novel or an article. If “lol” 
shows us one thing, it’s that 
language 
is 
flexible 
and 
unpredictable which means 
predicting 
the 
future 
of 
“lol” is a nearly impossible 
project.

Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4 — Tuesday, October 30, 2018

Emma Chang
Ben Charlson
Joel Danilewitz
Samantha Goldstein
Emily Huhman

Tara Jayaram
Jeremy Kaplan
Lucas Maiman
Magdalena Mihaylova
Ellery Rosenzweig
Jason Rowland

Anu Roy-Chaudhury
Alex Satola
Ali Safawi
Ashley Zhang
Sam Weinberger

DAYTON HARE
Managing Editor

420 Maynard St. 
Ann Arbor, MI 48109
 tothedaily@michigandaily.com

Edited and managed by students at the University of Michigan since 1890.

ALEXA ST. JOHN
Editor in Chief
 ANU ROY-CHAUDHURY AND 
ASHLEY ZHANG
Editorial Page Editors

Unsigned editorials reflect the official position of the Daily’s Editorial Board. 
All other signed articles and illustrations represent solely the views of their authors.

EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS

ERIN WHITE | COLUMN

Nostalgia’s place in popular culture
C

ertain 
senses, 
and 
certain media, can put 
you in the past. A rerun 
of “Tom and Jerry” takes me 
back to 5 years old, 
sitting on my long-
gone 
fabric 
couch, 
eating a peanut butter 
sandwich 
with 
my 
dad before afternoon 
kindergarten. 
This 
bittersweet 
feeling 
of 
nostalgia 
can 
be 
incited 
by 
the 
simplest 
of 
senses 
and can make you 
smile about a past 
memory while also longing for 
those good times. But scientists 
have explored the feeling and 
determined that nostalgia is 
an overall positive experience 
— not holding you in the past 
but rather lifting your spirits. 
Nostalgia 
provides 
a 
sense 
of continuity in your life and 
personality, which is something 
that can bring people peace with 
themselves. And because of this 
emotional pull of nostalgia, it’s 
no surprise that marketing 
officials and personal brands 
have been increasingly pulling 
on these feelings in exchange 
for profits.
One of the most prominent 
examples of this is the new 
wave 
of 
Disney 
live-action 
remakes, beginning with “Alice 
in Wonderland” in 2010, which 
was later joined by “The Jungle 
Book,” “Beauty and the Beast,” 
“Cinderella” and “Christopher 
Robin.” The films did quite 
well overall in the box office, 
with “Beauty and the Beast” 
hitting a record-breaking $170 
million in its opening weekend. 
These films, based on Disney 
cartoons, pull the attention of 
those who grew up watching 
the originals, a media-favorite 
from the childhood of both 
millennials and Gen Z. Due to 
their unprecedented success, 
Disney plans on producing 
at least five more live-action 
versions through 2020.
The use of nostalgia is not 
limited to media conglomerates 
like Disney. This marketing 
tool has been extended into 
the world of personal brands 

and online influencers. On 
social media accounts with 
large followings, “influencers” 
can be making well into six 
figures, and this is 
often dependent on 
viewership. 
Josh 
Peck, an actor best 
known for his role 
as 
Josh 
Nichols 
on 
the 
popular 
Nickelodeon 
show 
“Drake & Josh,” has 
moved his career 
in 
the 
direction 
of 
social 
media, 
becoming active on 
platforms like Instagram and 
YouTube. Peck has also created 
a close association with fellow 
influencer David Dobrik, who 
recently reunited Peck with his 
“Drake & Josh” costar Miranda 
Cosgrove. The resulting video 
got over 9.6 million views, is 
nearly double the average views 
for Dobrik’s content.
The use of nostalgia in an 

attempt to generate viewership 
and excite audiences has its 
place, but if taken too far can 
feel disingenuous. Disney, one 
of the six most influential 
media conglomerates in the 
United States, is consistently 
producing original content, 
however, a large portion of 
their current work stays based 
in these recreations. While 
the reboots are well done, it’s 
difficult not to see the trend of 
remakes increasing alongside 
box office sales. They know 
that nostalgia sells tickets. 
The authenticity of a reunion 
between childhood stars who 
have not seen each other for 

years can be questioned in the 
same way. But nostalgia gets 
clicks.
As a sentimental person, 
I enjoy these nostalgic media 
moments, and more often than 
not, they do draw me to certain 
content. The enjoyment of 
nostalgia is a natural response, 
which is why it remains an 
effective 
tactic 
despite 
its 
prominence 
in 
our 
media. 
And 
the 
content 
certainly 
can be artistic, thought out 
and strong. Not all nostalgic 
media is bad content, but it’s 
important that as consumers 
we 
acknowledge 
nostalgia’s 
new 
role 
as 
a 
marketing 
strategy in popular culture. 
At what point does nostalgic 
media stop being a worthwhile 
extension 
of 
the 
original 
content and instead begin to 
stifle authenticity?
Each 
use 
of 
nostalgia 
can be examined with these 
criteria, and it’s up to the 
consumer to determine the 
worthiness of these projects 
and whether or not they 
stand as strong pieces of 
content, outside the realm 
of the original. We have all 
seen a bad sequel or remake 
— the cult classic “Scream” 
did 
get 
three 
sequels 
— 
and those are the types of 
projects that simply try to 
profit off of the extension of 
a successful original. Media 
content is a blend of art 
and entertainment, but its 
greatest purpose has become 
making money. We live in an 
attention economy where the 
media is constantly vying for 
our viewership, and it’s no 
surprise that nostalgia has 
become so central in doing 
this. We need to become more 
active in our media decisions. 
Consumers should be more 
aware of their choices and 
understand the intentions of 
brands before they passively 
accept the recycled content 
coming across their screens — 
separating exciting nostalgia 
from lazy recreation.

LOL: Learning other languages

Everybody wants to be famous

ELLERY ROSENZWEIG | COLUMN
L

ying on the couch side 
by side, my sister and 
I shoved potato chips 
into our mouths as we spent 
our 
Sunday 
afternoon 
watching 
a 
marathon of E! 
True Hollywood 
Story. During one 
of the episodes 
about the artist 
P!nk, her closest 
friends 
shared 
their memories of 
P!nk as a teenager 
and how she was 
given her iconic name. My 
sister paused the show and 
passed me the bag of potato 
chips, asking, “Who do you 
think would be interviewed 
about 
you 
in 
your 
True 
Hollywood Story?” Without 
any 
hesitation, 
I 
begin 
drafting out loud which family 
members, friends and teachers 
would 
tell 
stories 
about 
me because I had already 
fantasized about becoming a 
famous star.
When I was younger, I 
always thought I would grow 
up to be famous for some 
reason. I wasn’t sure exactly 
for what, but my dream was 
to be as a famous singer. I 
thought I would be discovered 
through all my beautifully 
awkward solos in choir or by 
a stranger finding my covers 
of songs on YouTube, just like 
Justin Bieber. However, here I 
am, somewhat grown up and 
not famous or well known for 
any of my spectacular talents. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Last week, when I was 
hanging out with a group of 
friends, one of them asked 
all of us what we would want 
to be famous for. We all had 
different answers, from visual 
arts, to music, writing and 
sports. Yet we still all have 
this dream to be known for 
our passions, crafts and skills. 
This 
piqued 
my 
interest, 
because how is it that we all 
established the same mindset 
that one day we would be 
famous for our work? Where 
did we get this idea or is it 
human nature to want to be 
well known and have a legacy?
Looking back at the media 
I consumed as a preteen, many 
of my favorite shows and 
movies were about normal kids 
who become famous for their 
different talents. For instance, 
Hannah Montana, the Jonas 
Brothers, the Naked Brothers 
Band and the Cheetah Girls 
all were about normal teens 
who also doubled as famous 
singers 
and 
musicians. 
In 
“iCarly,” three friends become 
well known on the internet for 
their web show. Seeing these 
storylines repeated over and 
over again has impacted the 
way I think about fame today.
Additionally, we grew up 

and are still living in the era 
of social media. There are 
famous people on varying 
applications such as YouTube, 
Vine, Instagram and 
Twitter 
accounts 
that people subscribe 
to 
and 
follow 
for 
updates. 
With 
all 
of 
these 
different 
platforms, 
there 
is 
this new culture of 
following, 
creating 
and posting content 
for others to see. But 
even everyday people 
are 
treating 
their 
normal accounts as if they 
maintain 
great 
viewership. 
For example, in the recent 
film “Eighth Grade,” main 
character Kayla has a YouTube 

channel where she has themed 
videos with advice and talks 
to the camera like she has a 
large following. We later find 
out she only has a small circle 
of friends.
Our 
commonly 
used 
applications 
have 
been 
updating so there is more 
audience user communication 
and interaction. For instance, 
the new “ask question” sticker 
available 
on 
Instagram 
stories allows people to ask 
you questions and you can 
post the responses or the 
ability to respond to stories 
by sliding into the direct 
message section. Also, normal 
people are being sponsored 
by different companies and 
posting about products for 
their 
followers. 
Accounts 
by everyday people changed 
from just for your friends 
into platforms or “influencer” 
pages 
for 
audiences 
of 
strangers or potential bosses 
to explore.
For most of us, we don’t 
have a big following and we 
only have our friends and 
family members interacting 
with our content. But we are 
still treating and preparing 
our accounts like they are 
made for a general audience. 
When I was younger, I was 
always nervous about posting 
things to Instagram and would 
spend large amounts of time 
going through my pictures 
to post the best one with 
the most creatively crafted 
caption — but in retrospect, 
there was no reason for me 
and my friends to spend so 

much time on one picture that 
someone is just going to scroll 
through in a second.
Reflecting 
on 
this 
occurrence, it reminded me 
of a theory that I learned in 
my developmental psychology 
class 
called 
“adolescent 
egocentrism.” 
During 
adolescence, 
teens 
feel 
as 
if they are the center of the 
world. 
During 
this 
stage, 
adolescents can experience 
a feeling of an imaginary 
audience, where they feel like 
everyone is paying attention 
to their appearance, actions 
and 
behaviors. 
Also, 
they 
may experience the personal 
fable, where they think their 
experience 
is 
incredibly 
unique and no one is having a 
similar experience.
These 
theories 
explain 
why my friends and I spent 
so much time and energy 
thinking about how others 
would perceive our posts and 
the content we were posting 
online. But the truth is that 
you are probably the only 
one spending time on your 
page and others are not even 
thinking about your content 
for that long. Our culture right 
now seems to highlight those 
with the most likes and views, 
but not everyone is going to 
have a large following. So 
instead of spending time and 
energy crafting content for 
others, you might as well post 
your content for yourself.
As 
I 
am 
writing 
this 
column, 
I 
have 
the 
song 
“Everybody 
Wants 
To 
Be 
Famous” 
by 
the 
band 
Superorganism repeating in 
my head. It is really catchy 
and highlights the point that 
everyone does want to be 
famous and have their name 
well-known — but what is 
the cost? We spend so much 
time thinking about how to 
make ourselves well-known 
and 
remembered. 
I 
find 
myself dropping my handle 
(cough cough, @elleswag) and 
writing my name all over the 
place when I have the chance. 
I think this is just the hope 
that the things we create 
and impact we make in our 
field, community and world is 
recognized and used because 
then all of our efforts would 
be worthless.
So, instead of spending 
our time and energy creating 
and doing things for others to 
enjoy and consume, consider 
thinking about sharing your 
talents 
and 
skills 
because 
you love doing them. You 
may become well-known and 
famous from this, but it is 
probably better for your own 
motivation, 
well-being 
and 
time.

Reed Rosenbacher can be reached 

at rrosenb@umich.edu.

Ellery Rosenzweig can be reached at 

erosenz@umich.edu.

How is it that we 

all established the 

same mindset that 

we would one day be 

famous for our work?

REED ROSENBACHER | COLUMN

Will ‘lol’ escape 
the realm of digital 
messaging and 
seep its way into 
other linguistic 
contexts?

ERIN
WHITE

Erin White can be reached at 

ekwhite@umich.edu.

ELLERY

ROSENZWEIG

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Nostalgia 
provides a sense 
of continuity 
in your life and 
personality

