Something sort of irritating...

In recent years, by my watch, there has entered into our sort of collective American vocabulary a new sort of phrase that has undoubtedly overstayed its sort of usefulness and moved into the realm of so many interesting terms to what I would consider to be a sort of overuse to the point of sort of meaninglessness. Sort of. Yes, that’s the phrase. One I believe probably began somewhere on an NPR program, where it currently suffers its highest levels of abuse, as a harmless way for someone to give an opinion without appearing so convicted as to seem pretentious, this phrase has developed into a pseudo-intellectual nervous tic equivalent to a slightly more subtle and mature version of a younger generation’s “like”.

“That movie was like, awesome.”

Add an undergraduate degree and a couple years to this phrase and the adult counterpart to this brilliant review sounds like this:

“That movie was this sort of, epic grand spectacle.”

Sure, the description sounds more specific, but still requires some double-clutching axiom to distance the speaker from any responsibility of the words that follow. “Sort of” is a crutch these days, used by people who need to give opinions but don’t have the confidence to commit to them 100%. “Sort of” will apply just enough of a disclaimer when you aren’t completely sure that you are about to use the most appropriate word. And it’s not limited to any one form. Nouns, verbs, names, analogies; anything can be qualified, or rather disqualified by the iron-clad “sort of” clause.

“My ex-boyfriend drove this sort of monster truck and wore cowboy boots. That’s why I broke up with him.”

“I grabbed my pants and sort of ran right through the screen door into the alley.”

“My new boyfriend is tall and has a sort of Tom Brokaw way about him, but with much bigger teeth.”

“My boss has this sort of “rhino in the henhouse” philosophy regarding spreadsheets. That’s why I broke up with him.”

All fairly common phrases, sure, but note how each one becomes slightly more ambiguous and therefore lessens the expectation of the speaker to actually be describing something with any accuracy. And that’s the real perceived value of “sort of”; it’s used in a typically lazy American way to not have to stand behind what you are saying or the implications of your opinions, because in reality you’ve made it clear that you only sort of mean it. Or more to the point, you only sort of know what you are talking about.

A harmless enough phrase in its infancy as a cute little diversion from the always reliable but less refined “um…”, it fell into the same seedy trap that all of this society’s verbal habits ultimately do when reused with any frequency, which is that they lose their integrity, becoming cheap and easy. The suffix “peat” is a sad example. For centuries it was very useful and dignified as a part of the word “repeat”, it now suffers merciless ridicule among the word community for whoring itself out to phrases like “Five-peat”, “Eight-peat”, and “Hanging chad-peat”. Oh, wait, that’s “gate” I’m thinking of. The half of the hotel name “Watergate” that went on to spread for any word needing to change its meaning to include “scandal”. And “sort of” is stepping out onto the streets itself, with slightly overeducated people who are trying to sound thoughtful as its pimps, becoming everything it once pretended not to be.

I want us to all take part in saving this one by letting it go before its life is ruined beyond repair. Let’s do it because we owe to our own language to stop filling the heads of new phrases with the hopes of becoming a respected addition to our culture only to turn them into filthy, unwanted practices we will only ultimately try to rid ourselves of. Remember what a great word “awesome” used to be, before we rode it into the ground and beat it silly? Now we mock and hate that word because of our own lack of self-control, disowning it to be cared for by high-fiving fraternity boys, extreme sports enthusiasts and Bret Michaels. Shame on us.

“Sort of” will be hard for some to give up, I’m sure. But it’s for the best. If you need a substitute while you ride out the withdrawal tremors, allow yourself a few “ummmms” to give yourself the time needed to find the half-baked descriptor or adverb you seek. It’s not as smart sounding, but it’s honest, and it never pretended to mean something it doesn’t.

I’m sure that proponents of the cool new “sort of” vernacular would have an argument that this expression has a usefulness, and that it lends a gentleness to the usual stuttering, stammering or grunting that less civilized people use when stalling to let their brains catch up with their mouths, and if anyone would like to make the case to preserve it, I would be glad to listen. Sort of.