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October 30, 2018 - Image 4

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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

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