COLUMN: Expanding your collegiate vocab
Before I begin to ooze my frustrations over to you, general public, I need to preface something important. I love my job. Honestly. All things considered, it’s a pretty rocking gig. Few people get to do what I do and I’d like to think, as Will Smith once versed, “I make this look good.”
However, in the columnists’ flowing field of chocolate strawberries, there happens to be a small handful of sour grapes. I say this understanding there are much worse occupations in the world that face painstaking issues. To this I say, “Yeah, but…” and sigh heavily.
Most being-a-columnist-is-a-tough-life related irritants I can generally deal with, but there is one of late that irks me passed my irking capacity to the point of becoming quite an irk-tastrophie.
It generally goes like this. I meet a bystander, exchange pleasantries, make some verbal note about being a columnist and then, fatefully, to my longing demise I hear, “Oh, you’re a writer – can you help me with my English paper?”
Believe it or not, free-voting world, we journalists hate writing papers just as much as you. The worlds of publication style and professional style writing are akin to comparing a fry cook with a hummus merchant – just about as much alike as they are different. Try if you must, but chances are anyone outside of Lisa Simpson doesn’t get all up in jollies simply because words are being put on paper.
That being said, I consider myself a generous man, and I understand that you, like me, have never once said, “You know what would be much more fun than a ‘Family Matters’ marathon? Citing things scholarly!” So perhaps I will be helping a fellow comrade in the process.
I may not have all the ins and outs on research papers and because there is nothing I can do about the fact that you will be docked a large percentage because your English professor disagrees with your personal stance on veganism anyway – what can I say? Teachers love their lettuce. The least I can do is help you with your research-paper vocabulary.
The following are a list of words that I feel will make your paper a deadlock whether or not you or your professor know what they mean.
“Furthermore” – Use of this godsend tool, the act of which I call “dropping the f-more” is fascinating in that it makes everything you just said credible. You can go on about how the Beagles from “Ducktales” were the most entertaining super villains in children’s television history – which is false as they fall very short to Shredder, don’t mess – but a stern follow up of “Furthermore, we see how that correlates television to the believers of a more Keynesian economy,” will credit you as a literary genius with ease.
“Notwithstanding” – Need a word or phrase to help you say “all kinds of jelly except for marmalade” in a way that will give you status as a culinary soothsayer? You just found it.
“Foster” – Come on, readers, no overly-educated person ever “embraces” something, and only a select few will ever “implement” something, but you better believe all of the green tongues you’ve contracted from a Reptar Bar that any smarty-pants will be sure to “foster” anything you throw at them. Trust me – as far as cause and effect is concerned, they will eat this word up.
“Couscous” – Every writing professor loves a good metaphor, and while you are laying such out you might as well make them hungry. Make sure you make the food as obscure as possible as a professor has most likely never heard of macaroni. Good fallbacks: couscous, tapenade and anything soaked in au jus.
“Wherewithal” – This is simply a gold mine. If you have the wherewithal you’ll see what I mean.
Finally: Anything p
receded by “i.e.” – The power and authority of those two ambitious letters is nearly impenetrable. They seem to accomplish just about everything you would ever look to attain in your authorship travels. Need to form examples in an effort to look like you know what you are talking about? Check. Looking to incorporate words without having to define them? Done. Need a literary habanero to spice up that ill-positioned parenthesis? It doesn’t get hotter than the i.e. If you look to do anything to build your paper to preeminence, heed this council and you will go from zero to paid research assistant in record time.
With that, voila, a stalwart vernacular sure to imbue to Mr. Feeny in all of us. You’re welcome.
And no, I don’t know how to use a semicolon. Stop asking.
– steve.schwartzman@aggiemail.usu.edu