Write an 'entertaining article' about which words you think might disappear within the next 100 years

There is never any ballyhoo when words in our language disappear.

Spot the odd one out. As great as it would be if ‘ballyhoo’ was used in our language today, it has disappeared so much to the extent that it took several ‘Googles’ to completely define its full meaning. There’s another one - ‘Google’. If we slipped it into a conversation 50 years ago, no matter who we were talking to, the guaranteed response would be a blank face. This word is so common now that the majority of people around the world understand it, yet it has only existed for a short time. But how do these words shift so much without us realizing? There wasn’t a set date when people decided to remove ‘ballyhoo’ from circulation, yet there must have been a reason that it was changed for more contemporary vocabulary such ‘commotion’ and, more recently, ‘hype’.

It’s strange to think that, in perhaps as soon as 50 years’ time, we will have a new range of words to get to grips with, and some of our words that we use every day might be forgotten or replaced, but which ones have sticking power?

Clearly with the invention of the mobile phone and internet (of which most of us confidently declare “I caaaaan’t live without it!”) there is a whole new dictionary of words that have become second-nature to the English language. When phones first developed the texting function, the dual-function keyboard meant that it took a while to type out a standard message, hence the invention of shortened words using acronyms, initialism and contractions such as ‘LOL’, ‘G2G’ and ‘coz’ (which are, like, totes uncool now). With the further improvements in this technology (such as the touch-screen), typing on mobile phones is merely a matter of *tap tap tap* before a long essay is synchronically sent to the recipient who awaits an almost immediate reply. In theory, this means that these words will disappear as there is no potential for them. Moreover, now that they are so widely used, they have an effect much like when your mum starts to listen to ‘Daft Punk’ or ‘Eminem’; they lose a lot of credit and the average age of their user-ship spikes.

Which words will disappear? From trends we have seen in the past, our swearword vocabulary is surely to, not so much disappear, but change in terms of what will become acceptable to use. The context of our future suggests that perhaps the casual use of racist terms such as ‘n*gger’, or sexist terms such as ‘c*nt’ – which are often referred to as ‘the worst’ swear words – are likely to become diluted with their over-use and the modernising society, much like religious terms such as ‘damn’ have become more acceptable to use since the decrease in the church’s influence. Having said this, it is likely to take a long time for older generations to accept this semantic shift – using the intensifier ‘bloody’ at the dinner table on Sunday afternoon is likely to go unnoticed by everyone except granny, sitting in the corner and choking on a roast potato as she declares, ‘if I said that in my day, I would have got a slap on the wrist’.

It’s hard to tell what words we will still be using in the future, but they are likely to be ones that are used by all ages, because they are less prone to becoming unfashionable with a currently wide and varied usage. Words such as ‘cool’ and ‘bloke’ are an example of this because, unlikely the travesties which are the words ‘twerk’ and ‘yolo’, they are already used by older generations, and people have thus accepted them as mainstream. Whereas the younger generation are likely to feel incredibly uncomfortably if their mum starts to shout ‘yolo’ or tries to twerk, because the words were implemented by young and credible figures, therefore they were never meant for the oldies.

Pressure.

I stared at the keypad, trying to remember the correct code that had been drummed into me over and over again. “Twist the dial, type ‘2-0’, flick the sw— no wait,” what was it?

I felt the pressure. The pressure from my peers and everybody around me, dependent on my next move. But more importantly, the pressure from myself. I had to do it. I had a lot of energy at my care, but how was I going to control it? What was that code? I knew that one wrong step would deplete my chances, and a careless action would make the whole contents in that small box, which held no prisoners, explode and burn to a crisp. What a waste that would be.

C’mon! Think! I could drive a tank, operate a gun, navigate across the harsh Afghanistan desert, yet when my comrades needed me most; my mind had hit a wall. “Twist the dial, type ‘2-0’, flick the sw—“

‘YOU JUST TRIED THAT!’ one of my companions yelled, the stress and panic leaking out of his voice like water from a tap. ‘We haven’t got much time left’. In immense dread, I touched one of the buttons and, unbeknown to me, it bleeped and the whole box sprang into action, leaping and whirring as it eventually lit up. My last sense to realise what had happened was my touch. But I soon felt the immense heat radiating through my bones, like a wave of water drenching a sandy beach, seeping into every nook and cranny available and making me aware of it, as if it was just tapping me on the shoulder. Everybody around my flinched in anticipation as a harsh countdown started and I knew this was it.

10, 9, 8—“EVERYBODY GET READY”, 7, 6, 5, 4, —“IT’S GONNA EXPLODE!”, 3, 2, 1

*ping*

The popcorn was ready

The introduction to my autobiography...

I hate to say it but that fringe has only recently gone. I should've ditched it sooner

Now that I think about it, it’s actually really difficult to introduce my autobiography. I mean, how am I supposed to start - “Thanks for wanting to read about my life, but bear in mind it’s not very interesting”? I thought about starting it like one of those soppy videos, ‘a message to my 16 year old self’ and proceed from there, but bearing in mind I am only just 17, my advice would be less along the lines of ‘follow your heart’ and more along the lines of ‘don’t forget to take your toothbrush on holiday when you go to Turkey’. So here goes – I was born on a battlefield on the South of the Serbian border, whilst the enemy was shooting from both sides and my father was recovering from a nasty blow to the head; my birth was truly a miracle. Nah, just kidding. To be honest, my birth was pretty normal I think. When my mum went into labour with my older sister, Eleanor, my dad was late to the hospital because he had just scored 100 runs in an important cricket game. I don’t have an interesting story like that. I think that was the closest that Eleanor and I had ever been to succeeding in sport, much to our father’s dismay. The rise and fall of my football career came when, in year 5, I tried to impress a boy on the playground by kicking a runaway ball back to him, but it ended up plummeting straight for a wall and bouncing right back to me. Anyway, all my mum has really ever told me about when I was born was that the midwife on call was ‘fat, sweaty and grumpy’ and my timing meant that mum missed ‘Coronation Street’. It doesn’t get much more interesting; the majority of my childhood was spent sitting, alone, in our spare bedroom, waiting for somebody to come and buy a stamp from my makeshift post office. Nobody ever did. In fact, the biggest profit I made from it was when we sold it for £2 at a car boot sale last year. 

School homework - 'Write an introduction to a novel'

“It’s gonna be okay”. But it’s not going to be okay is it? People always say that, but how do they even know?

My friend Tara always says it, and then chuckles as I snarl, “you don’t know it will be okay”.  “God Georgia, you’re so pessimistic for a 15 year old! Lighten up a little,” she says it with a grin, but I know that when she uses my full name instead of ‘Gee’, she’s being serious. I understand where she’s coming from but it’s so difficult to lighten up when everything in my life is so dark. Nothing’s going to be okay for me; even Tara, my best friend, doesn’t understand this.

I don’t try to be miserable, misery just has a way of finding its way to me and making sure that I know nothing is ever alright. It snakes its way through even my happiest memories, tinting them with the doubt that relentlessly whispers to me ‘why should you have this happy memory?’ So when Tara naively tries to cheer me up, it is thrown back in her face as I remember why nothing will ever be okay again.

My thoughts are constantly flickering, like the sound on an old CD which jumps and stalls, but unlike track 6 on Take That’s first album, or the last track on ‘Now That’s What I Call Music! 24’, my thoughts always go back to the same place. I used to be a bright and happy child. Normal, I guess, but everything changed when I was 7…


Where do you think this story is going? Write the next part in the comments for me!

A piece of creative writing which includes certain given phrases

NOTE: The phrases which I had to include are in bold

As my pace quickened, my surroundings slowed. Every step, fuelled by the relentless rhythm of my heartbeat, seemed like an eternity. The silence was overpowering yet I could tell someone was there. The shadow of the trees? From the corner of my eyes they were creepy figures. The flap of a bird’s wings? These quickly became the pounce of the enemy. The darkness of the sky? I knew this was the spotlight in which my murder would occur.

Lost, scared and alone, I became two people. A shell and a consciousness. The frightened shell of a girl began to cry but I ignored her tears. Tears smell of vulnerability and vulnerability smells of danger.

Stay confident.

Stay brave.

Stay alive.

People say we only have 5 senses, but at that moment I had 6. He was there, I knew it and I guess, deep down, I knew my fate. I smelt the faint stench of his coffee-tainted breath, and his staccato pant was not even drowned out by the unforgiving harsh Autumn winds. The snap of a branch behind me could not be passed off as an innocent four legged animal, it could only be the aggressive stomp of his heavy boots.

My consciousness knew what to do; it took the fear and twisted it. Reshaped it. Used it. Fear became adrenaline which spurred on my legs to run faster. I whispered for my legs to help me, to speed on, to sense the danger. They had to rise to the challenge; it was their time to be heroes. I needed my legs to get me out of the forest, which would be quickly transformed into a taped-off murder scene by the morning. But they wouldn’t believe me, they didn’t sense the urgency. My adrenaline wasn’t enough for me to rapidly carry myself out of the forest. I tripped at every opportunity, each tumble bringing me closer to the inevitable.

I fought, begged and pleaded. Not only on that night, but on the lead up to it. “Don’t”, “Stop it”, “Go away”, “Leave me alone”. How many times can you say the same thing? I cried … again. Not from the pain, the pain came later on, but from the fact that he had, once more, succeeded. The most painful part was the sound of his laughter; it was the first time I had heard him laugh and this was when both me and him realized, as I lay tripped on the ground, that he had won. I wonder if he laughs at all of his victims.

I’m not sure where I was but I saw it all. I was now separated from my shell, who lay, waiting to be found. My memory appears in flashes.

The dog walker, not knowing that this would change her life forever. How can you forget the image of what lay in front of her in a muddy ditch?

The police, breezing over their emotions as they, naively, tried to piece together what had happened as if they had a chance. He’s done it before and he’ll do it again, don’t get involved. I should know. I got involved.

My father, having to make that transition from the anger over my overstepped curfew to the … well he doesn’t know what he feels. Perhaps he is still angry. Maybe he is just sad. I hope he stays strong.

My mother, crumpled in a heap as she receives the news, and later, (much later) arrives at the harsh reality that I’m never coming home.

…and Him. With no thought other than “so who’s next?”

In around 500 words, write either the beginning, 'magic moment' or endto a romance style novel. Include a variety of euphemisms and cliches

As the rain pattered against the rattling taxi window, she realised what she was losing. She didn’t know his second name, his favourite colour, how many siblings he had. She had not met his parents or been on holiday with him. She did not know him in a way that she knew her best friend or her parents, but in that second as he closed the car door and walked up to the train station, she knew one thing. She wanted to be with him. She loved him.

It did not take her long to realise what she had to. After forcing the driver to grind to a halt, she had never moved quicker, dodging past anonymous figures on the platform and fighting, begging and pleading with destiny to stop him getting onto the train. Raindrops splattered down, merely adding to the tears which tricked down her delicate cheeks whilst her panic built up.

“John! John! Stop!” she cried with sheer determination as onlookers jumped in confusion. He was an oblivious target in the distance, but somehow the only image that was focused in her eyes; he mattered and suddenly the argument didn’t.

Heart in mouth, she stumbled through the mob of people. It didn’t matter that she bumped into an elderly gentlemen, or barged through a couple, deep in conversation. They all loved people, they would understand her desperation if only they knew.

The train pulled in and people moved to get on. She was now desperate; her length of opportunity was being harshly monitored by the speed at which passengers boarded the train, which was impatiently waiting to depart. As hoards of people moved towards the train, she lost sight of John. The train left. And the crowd of people who had got off the train and spectators who had been saying goodbye to people began to disband. She never even got to say goodbye.

Heart in mouth, she stumbled to a wall and leant against it, suddenly letting the tears flow. She couldn’t support herself and collapsed onto the ground, not even caring that she was drenched from the puddle underneath her. The minute she had realised how much he was worth was the minute that she lost him. She sat there, head in hands and shivering from both the cold and the loneliness she felt. What was she to do now?

Suddenly she felt a warmth on her shoulder, with all of her hope based on this one sense, she looked up but her disappointment was reimbursed merely with a uniformed platform attendant telling her to move on.

As she stood up, wondering what to do next, she looked ahead of her, and that’s when she saw him. John. Sat on a bench watching her.

“I couldn’t do it,” he exclaimed, “I couldn’t leave you”.

A (very long) The Trueman Show (for a piece of school work)

We all felt a bit paranoid after watching The Truman Show. What is real life? As Truman Burbank (Jim Carrey- Bruce Almighty) suddenly realises all is not what it seems in Sea Haven, we play along with the game; desperate for Truman to see what his life really is- a TV show. Ed Harris plays the determined and controlling Christof, owner of the controversial ‘fish-tank-like’ programme following the life of Truman, a television idol since birth. As we see the audience glued to their screens watching Truman’s every move, we realise how much power the media has in our modern world; this was the principal moral of the movie. Peter Weir is the real director of the film and he makes us feel that we are the audience watching the show, with occasional imperfect camera angles, discreet clues about the real world and special effects to add feeling to each scene but still keep the star of the show ignorant to his fame. Without much information on the storyline, only knowing that it was a sci-fi drama based around a TV show, my expectations were quite modest and it completely exceeded my predicaments, due to the clever methods of filming the show and the originality of the storyline.

Truman’s apparent normal life is suddenly thrown into confusion when he pieces together the small aspects that don’t seem to add up in his world. We watch him trying to overcome the discreet manipulation that the TV producers use to turn his ignorance into a high-rated show. I found the film very interesting and gripping, despite being borderline predictable and having a slow start. The climax was exciting and kept me on the edge of my seat, pleading for Truman to be granted justice and the ability to get out of Seahaven.

Jim Carrey does a fantastic job convincing the real audience that Truman is clueless about the show. He plays the character well, using good actions and facial expressions to portray the idea that Truman is suspicious and paranoid about his life. We sympathise with him because we see how innocent and genuine he really is, and how he has been controlled throughout his life. Laura Linney plays Truman’s wife, Meryl- she does a brilliant job in portraying her character as a bad actress, making a few slip-ups in keeping the secret quiet from Truman. Her facial expressions are unconvincing, forever reminding us that she is acting as Truman’s wife, tactfully edging away from him and remaining professional around him, never looking very comfortable. She didn’t gain any sympathy as it was her decision to trick Truman for her own benefit; she manipulated him and never took him seriously. Ed Harris (Christof)’s character is ambiguous to Truman; at the beginning, he plays a God-like figure to him, creator of his world. However at the end, we see that he has watched Truman’s whole life and feels protective and paternal over him. In the end scene, when Christof reveals everything, we realise he is upset to see him leave, his voice becomes softer and his words to Truman are fatherly. We can understand how Christof felt, wanting to keep Truman in Seahaven for longer, but I don’t sympathise with him. He might feel a love for Truman now, but originally he did it for entertainment purposes. In an interview, the interviewer says ‘Thanks for giving up so much of your precious time to talk to us’, Christof acts like this is a generous thing for him to do, but Truman has given his whole life up and Christof doesn’t realise how differently Truman could have lived without being on the show.

The scenes are shot in a very natural and interesting way. The settings are beautifully lit, always very bright and colourful with plenty of detail. The cameras are cleverly positioned; many are from specifically low or high angles, giving the feeling that Truman is being watched. It singles him out and makes him look alone, the only one who doesn’t know the truth behind his life. Sometimes the angles make him look smaller and more vulnerable. Many cameras are hidden in the costumes and sets. To show this, some edges are blacked out, giving the effect of a button or desk camera. Sometimes, with these angles, the cameras are very jolty and have more noticeable zooms. This portrays people purposely watching him. During Truman’s life, the technology improves. We see him as a baby staring at a mobile above his cot with a camera hanging off; as Truman grows, the cameras get more discreetly hidden and the shots less ‘perfectly’ placed and captured. In the last scene, as Truman steps out into the real world, we only see darkness, symbolising that he has been watched his whole life and now he should be free.

The soundtrack to the film is very subtle and natural. It means that Truman is always in the spotlight. Watching the film, I didn’t really notice much backing music, but when I did notice some, it added emotion and atmosphere to the feeling of the scene. It draws people in and the simplicity and sincerity of the melody added to the innocence of Truman.

This film is topical in our age of reality TV shows and celebrity personalities- it is often compared to George Orwell’s ‘1984’, which is similarly about being watched and lack of freedom. As somebody who enjoys watching reality TV and often reads Hello magazine, I completely understand how Truman was manipulated into a celebrity-shaped TV star for the public’s enjoyment. The last scene really links to real life, where the audience (previously gripped to their screens throughout Truman’s last shows) switch to another channel and have nothing else to say about the show’s dramatic finish. It portrays that fame isn’t forever and media is always forgotten. It shows that the audience only wanted entertainment, and didn’t care for the effect it had on Truman. I would recommend this film to anybody older than 12, who enjoy reading about celebrities and reality-life, because it gave me a great insight into how a celebrity must feel, being watched everyday; however I don’t think anybody younger would understand the concept, or notice the film’s subtle details.

The Truman Show was extremely cleverly written, and the storyline was enjoyable to watch. I would rate it an 8/10, because I haven’t ever seen a film like it and I thought the extra effort taken to see the film from interesting camera angles improved it lots; it lost out on 2 points because sometimes, it was quite slow moving and confusing.

Teenage Swearing

When I say ‘damn’, you hear ‘suffer eternal punishment in hell’
As a 16 year old, I am more than confident in expressing my opinions or merely thoughts using numerous swear words, sometimes over excessively. As with many of my friends, we find ourselves saying phrases such as ‘fuck off’ or ‘that was shit’ and this is widely recognised by most people as, not only an insult, but a way of emphasising a point. However in the literal sense, these phrases sound ridiculously childish and don’t even make sense. According to the British dictionary, when my sister grabs the remote and switches channels, I tell her to ‘sexual intercourse off’ and after seeing the fourth Twilight film, I retorted ‘that was faeces’. Well clearly it wasn’t but the use of this language has developed in a way that one should take offence to these phrases. Furthermore, words like these are used so commonly that many people, mostly peers to my age group, have grown immune to them and calling your best friend a ‘whore’ is now seen as more of a sign of close friendship.

Having said this, people in the older generation do not react to the words in the same way. They are neither immune to the words, nor viewing them in the literal ‘Oxford dictionary’ sense. After telling my dad ‘this pasta tastes like crap’ and remarking to my mum that ‘my teacher is a bitch’ I was sent to my room and the wifi was turned off. Please note, when the wifi is turned off in my house, it is a big deal. In fairness, I do not think that my parents are naïve enough to believe that I don’t swear at all, I think that with teenage swearing, the parents first experience shock that their child finally knows these words and is choosing to use them, losing their innocence. Most parents do not teach their children these words, so it comes as a surprise when they pop up in conversation – how did she learn these? Naturally, the parents make it very clear that these words are unacceptable but as with anything, if one is told not to do something, ‘caution hot surface’, they will probably try to do it, ‘shit that’s hot’.

The parent’s despair comes from when they realise they cannot stop their children from learning these words. The frustration of taking time to monitor their teenager’s television viewing and reading to ensure these profanities are not taught to them, and then realising that someone at school has filled them in with the latest curses must be overwhelming. It is somewhat worse as the parent does not even know which words are in their vocabulary, and so every mother’s worst nightmare is their child spontaneously quoting Ron Weasley at Sunday dinner with the grandparents by exclaiming ‘that was bloody brilliant’. Perhaps the child does not even realise that this can be seen as offensive for people who were brought up to understand the word as blasphemous, and so when granny starts choking on her roast potato after this comment, the child is none the wiser, they have merely complimented her cooking.

Teenagers are forever trying to overstep the boundaries; I personally know that swearing will make my parents go ballistic at me during an argument, which is my exact aim. However similarly, I realise that my parents use the words too, just not as often and general. This means that even they realise it would be hypocritical of them to take offence at me using these words so the need for punishment comes when they are used unnecessarily or to purposely cause offence. I believe that people think teenage swearing is an issue not because nobody else knows these words, but because they are taught them by other people so they come as a shock, even though most of the time one is not trying to offend. The universal definition for swear words has been naturally changed so generations have different ideas on one’s intention after saying these words. 

A monologue from the point of view of one of the four seasons

I hate him. He just does it to spite me. I have my time and he has his. He just chose to do things differently. (shrug) I try my very best to brighten up the country, I don’t hide away the sun, I know how she hates that, (whisper) she’s sensitive. He, of course, loves to cause trouble and routinely hides her away, gets his colony of clouds to stand in front of her and spoil the elegant atmosphere she has helped me to create.

It was Mother Nature who elected me for the summer holidays, best time of the year because everybody can enjoy the goodness I spread. Well, he hated this! But, I mean, its not like he just got half term like Autumn, (sniggers) he was given the Christmas holidays. Though if you ask me he has ruined them- I could do a much better job! What’s the fun in sprinkling a hint of snow and making the public expect more? Getting their hopes up, only for them to receive a weeks worth of splattering raindrops replacing the delicate snowflakes they were expecting. He’s selfish. He saves it all for himself.

Look at him! (points) All high and mighty sitting on a chair of snow over there, who does he think he is? And then to steal the leaves off the trees…well that is pure evil, how would he feel if I went over there and stole his earmuffs?

When Mother Nature briefed us about our jobs, me, Spring and Autumn all understood. But as soon as she leaves us to control her children, those monstrous little tornados, all hell breaks loose and Winter decides to freeze the whole place. Now why would you do that?!

He’ll get what’s coming to him. Take Spring for example, she is always late, leaving Winter to conduct even more gloominess around the UK but, boy did she suffer from that! Mother Nature was furious when she realised how late Spring always was. She banished Spring to under the ground and now all she can do is push flowers up from under the soil. Not a good life if you ask me!

Now if you’ll excuse me, I am needed to go and persuade the sun to heat up the country. Ha! That will get on Winters nerves!