As I write this article, I’m awaiting marks for the thesis I spent all of this year writing about the…
Author: Nicola Brayan
Being averse to first person writing is not just a silly thing that I have a personal gripe with; it informs how academics, students, and the public engage with academia.
“Bamboozle”, “momther”, “hooman”, “hungery”. I have never understood this odd dialectal pattern: I don’t find it funny, and I don’t think it adds all that much to content which I think is already pretty excellent. Why, then, is it so wide-spread?
In an age of TikToks edited with Subway Surfer gameplay beneath them to retain attention and YouTube Shorts being pushed as the future of video, these long videos are, seemingly, out of place.
For many white people, it is very easy not to identify with this type of fragility. It’s tempting to think of Karens and old white guys as a unique brand of white people.
We don’t bat an eye when men say they hate their wives, and in fact, we sometimes expect them to do so. How are these roles – the nagging wife and hen-pecked husband – so ingrained in our culture? And why do we find them funny?
Time is an abstract and nebulous concept – it’s not something we can see, and its nature is difficult to physically determine. Because of this, much of the language we use to describe time relies on metaphor. While these metaphors are typically consistent within a language, they tend to differ cross-linguistically.
Most of the terms we consider “Gen Z slang” come from Black culture, from both African American English and Ballroom Speak.
Although it may not be the subject of many films, there is actually a lot to explore when looking at how language is represented onscreen, especially in the realm of translation.
Every comma I added, split infinitive I repaired, hung preposition I cushioned in noun phrases was proof that I was articulate. Articulate was the last few marks on my English assignments, the judge’s feedback from the debates I won, the glowing words printed on my report card. To be articulate was to be intelligent. To be worth listening to.
