Is ‘booyakasha’ the new ‘cowabunga’ for the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?

© dragan85 - Fotolia.comThe ’10s have become the decade of 80s remakes, from The Karate Kid to Footloose to The A-Team. (Rumor has it there’s a Dirty Dancing remake in the works… blasphemy!) So it comes as no surprise that 80s comic book, TV series and 1990 hit movie Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles has been retooled for Nickelodeon.

The series is already being heralded a success as TMNT merchandise flies off the shelves (better get your hands on some TMNT gear now — it’s the hot item this holiday season.) There’s even a new movie in the works from Michael Bay, due out in 2014.  Turns out these ass-kicking, pizza-loving turtles still have major shell-ing power. (Yes, I went there.)

But diehard fans think the remakes are, well, totally bogus. Aside from the fact that the TV show features slick computer animation and the movie will have a new origin story (the turtles will come from another planet, rather than a puddle of radioactive ooze), there’s also a new catch phrase on the block.

Fans went ballistic when the classic ‘cowabunga’ was seemingly kicked to the curb in favor of ‘booyakasha.’ So what gives?  Well, the show’s executive producer explained it like this to Entertainment Weekly:  “There was a lot of talk about what the new ‘cowabunga’ was, or whether it should even remain ‘cowabunga’.” They hadn’t actually thought of a word to replace it yet, but the actor who voices Michelangelo started riffing — and ‘booyakasha’ just sort of stuck.

The show’s execs claim that ‘cowabunga’ could still make its way back into the turtles’ vocabulary — but should it? The word ‘cowabunga’ actually dates back to the 1950s, when it was popularized by The Howdy Doody Show. It evolved into a surfing catchphrase and rose to prominence in the late 1980s, when California surfing culture pervaded national pop culture and regularly spawned new catchphrase. ‘Booyakasha’ is decidedly a word of the 2000s with notably different roots (it’s often associated with Ali G).

As a child of the 80s, I’m not crazy about all the remakes — I’d rather see new stories being told. And why replace Patrick Swayze or Kevin Bacon when they danced their asses off so perfectly in some of the biggest hits of the 80s? But my feeling is, if you’re going to remake a movie, don’t just take the exact same script and plunk fresh faces into the leads — really remake it. Modernize it, find a new angle, set it in a different era, and yes, even play with language to translate it into something that meshes with contemporary culture. After all, we do it with Shakespeare — so why not with nunchuk-wielding reptiles?

4 gourd puns to put you in an autumnal mood

May the gourds be with youWhen Starbucks adds pumpkin syrup to their lattes and Safeway sells inedible gourds, you know… autumn is nigh.

At least, those are the only signs of fall here in San Francisco. This marks my first year living in a city without a noticeable fall, my favorite season of all. Whenever I start to wax nostalgic for my pumpkin picking, leaf-raking days of yore, I go out and buy something (anything) autumnal. Turns out, most pumpkin spice treats don’t actually taste like pumpkin. And if I buy another decorative gourd, I’m going to turn into the dude in this McSweeney’s piece.

So, to preserve myself from my expensive gourd habit or another sickeningly sweet pumpkin spice something, I present you with four gourd puns that get me in the fall spirit.

1. May the gourds be with you.
What do I love as much as gourds? Yoda … and Yaddle, of course (look her up).

2. Don’t let your gourd down.
Because there’s nothing worse than a disappointed squash.

3. In gourd we trust.
This one’s only funny if you say “god” with a Jersey accent. Oh. My. Gourd.

4. Ithaca is gourd-geous.
Bam! Double pun for those of you who know what an “Ithaca is gorges” t-shirt is…

Puns about gourds aren’t your thing? Well, what can I say? Don’t hate me because I’m gourd-geous. Happy autumn!

Litquake kicks off in SF, ushering in the most literary season of all

https://i0.wp.com/litquake.org/wp-content/gallery/logos/lqbadge-1.jpgAutumn, in my mind, is the most literary season of all. Something about pumpkins, red-orange leaves, and apple cider makes me want to read a little Washington Irving, Edgar Allan Poe, or other eerie 19th century writers who were slightly out of their gourds.

Why fall? Maybe it’s because there’s something poetic yet ghastly about a season where nature is at its most beautiful right before it all shrivels up and dies for winter. Or maybe it’s just because as a New Jerseyan by birth, I associate fall nights with being too chilly to spend outside, making autumn a season of reading.  Whatever the reason, I’m out of my gourd with excitement for Litquake 2012.

Litquake, San Francisco’s literary festival, kicked off this weekend and runs through October 13th. As a fairly new San Franciscan, I’m still getting used to the idea that fall isn’t really a season here. But the origins of this festival sound positively autumnal to me:

Originally hatched over beers at the Edinburgh Castle pub in 1999, Litstock debuted as a free one-day reading series in a fog-bound Golden Gate Park.

Thirteen years later, the festival now runs for nine days and features a variety of free or affordable events like public writing sessions, a literary quiz night, and a chance to see creative minds like Daniel Clowes and Dave Eggers in conversation.

But the event I’m most excited for is LitCrawl on October 13th– the “wildest, most wanton literary night of the year” featuring free readings that move across 85 venues including bookstores, bars, cafes, and more. (It allegedly stemmed from a USA Today report that “San Franciscans spend twice the nation’s average on books and booze.”)

It’s such a brilliant idea that the event has caught on in a handful of cities across the U.S. So look for a LitCrawl in a city near you. And if there isn’t a LitCrawl near you, never fear. From Indonesia to Canada to England, this is one of the most popular times of year for literary festivals the world over. Or, you can just curl up with a good book and your favorite libation and celebrate the spirit of fall. After all, there’s no better season for getting lit — literary that is.

A simple method for combatting writer’s block

© klikk - fotoliaWriter’s block is so pernicious, it once prompted Ernest Hemingway (a war correspondent, mind you) to say that the scariest thing he ever encountered was “a blank piece of paper.”

From Mark Twain to Maya Angelou to Stephen King, writer’s block seems to afflict even our greatest literary minds. In Hollywood, Barry Michels has had an extremely successful career as a therapist for blocked screenwriters. He’s considered an open secret in the industry.

But let’s say you can’t afford to hire a Jungian analyst to help you through your latest block. What’s a frustrated writer to do?

“The easiest thing to do on earth is not write.” — William Goldman
Undoubtedly, starting is the hardest part when it comes to writing, with finishing coming in a close second.  I’ve found that to be painfully true — but I’ve also found a method that helps me stop thinking (What should I write about? What if it isn’t any good?) and start writing when I’ve got a deadline to meet or I’m staring at a blank screen.

It’s a fairly well-known method called the Pomodoro Technique. Despite the commercialization of the name, the technique is free and it doesn’t require you to read any self-help books. Here’s the premise: You break down your work into 25-minute blocks. During that 25 minutes, you can’t answer your phone, check email, raid the kitchen for a snack, run out to grab a cup of coffee or play Words With Friends. (Yeah, I’m really good at procrastinating).

“Writing about writer’s block is better than not writing at all.” — Charles Bukowski
The deal is, you have to use your 25 minutes to write something — anything. Write about having writer’s block, if you have to. I often treat my first 25-minute block like a free-write or brainstorm session where I can throw away whatever I write. If I’m starting work on a piece, sometimes I cover my monitor for 25 minutes so I can’t edit myself or worry about making it perfect when I’m trying to get momentum.

Set a timer so you know when 25 minutes is up. I use a timer app that I keep open while I’m typing because for me, seeing the minutes count down spurs me into action (you can hide it, if you prefer).  It works for me because it’s “just 25 minutes” — it’s not a novel, a screenplay, an article, or a dissertation. After 25 minutes, your timer app will ding and then it’s time to take a quick break, typically for 5 minutes. Get away from your computer — walk around your apartment or make a cup of tea. Repeat until you’ve done a string of these (take longer breaks as needed), and you’ll be surprised by how much you get done.

“I only write when I am inspired. Fortunately I am inspired at 9 o’clock every morning.” — William Faulkner
Critics say that this technique prevents us from developing the ability to focus over long periods of time when necessary — who’s going to hire a lawyer who takes breaks in the courtroom every 25 minutes? Personally, I think this criticism misses the point. The Pomodoro Technique isn’t supposed to apply to all aspects of life. But if you’re having trouble starting a project that you’ve always wanted to do (or HAVE to do), it can help you establish a sustainable routine to get it done. For example, “Today I’ll do 10 pomodoros.”

The sad reality is, doing a single task for 25 minutes without any distraction is actually a lot longer than most people are likely or able to focus nowadays. (If you want more detail on why that is, you should read “The Shallows” by Nicholas Carr.) I’ve found that establishing the habit of working in a series of 25-minute blocks without interruption has actually been a great way to train my brain to focus for longer periods of time — and understand the importance of taking breaks and getting some perspective before you can truly finish major projects, whether they take hours, weeks or years.

Hey, if taking breaks ultimately helped Mark Twain finish “Tom Sawyer,” then the method’s good enough for me.

Why words like lolz, ridic and mwahahaha make it into the Oxford English Dictionary

© artenot - Fotolia.comLast month, the Oxford English Dictionary revealed its latest buzz-inducing list of new words to enter the revered reference guide. This time, words like lolz, hackathon, ridic, and group hug made the cut (see the full list at Oxford Dictionaries Online).

Every time this happens (which is four times a year, FYI), there’s a slew of articles, blog posts and quippy TV pieces that express a mixture of outcry, bafflement and sheer amusement at the latest additions. How could mwahahaha become a real word… in the dictionary?! We tend to think of dictionaries as the end-all and be-all of language. If it’s not in the dictionary, then it’s not a real word… right?

Well, it turns out dictionaries — like language itself — are dynamic and very much alive.  Rather than being rigid and prescriptive texts, they’re a reflection of humans’ relationship with language.  As some words fall out of favor (so long, growlery), others make their way into daily usage (hello, sexting).

In previous years, OMG-worthy entries have included jiggy, bling, woot and <3. We get bent out of shape because we feel these words haven’t yet proven their staying power to enter something as venerated as a dictionary. But nothing compared to the uproar caused last year when cassette tape was ruthlessly slashed to make room for words like retweet. Did this mean that the cassette tape was effectively being erased from our language — and our history?!

Well, no. Casette tape actually got removed from the Concise OED — this is a mini version of the full OED that’s meant to represent the current vocabulary of the English-speaking world.The full Oxford English Dictionary continues to be one of the most respected, comprehensive, and expensive guides to pretty much every word in our language. There, words like casette tape and video jockey continue to live on (and of course, the ’80s continue to live on in our hearts)…

You can also still find these words in the Oxford Dictionaries Online, what TIME Magazine called “the hipper and more adaptable young cousin of the venerable OED.” Its role is actually tracking language trends and adding words as they reach a tipping point of daily usage. There are even different editions for U.S. English vs. British & World English. If you’re interested in how words make the cut, you can see the ODO’s infographic explaining the process. A word doesn’t actually enter the “real” OED until after it’s proven itself worthy over a long period of time.

The OED has long been considered the premier dictionary of our language. And while some of the new entries to the online edition seem silly (personally, I don’t think “getting voted off the island” deserves an entry) I respect that they continue to stay on the cutting edge of language. To be fair, other dictionaries like Merriam-Webster also regularly update their word lists (this year they added f-bomb and mash-up, for example). But for word nerds like me, the OED remains the ultimate. For a better understanding of why, I highly recommend Simon Winchester’s book, The Meaning of Everything: The Story of the Oxford English Dictionary. Turns out you have to be a little loopy to want to create a record of, well, the meaning and history of every word in the English language… ever.

So, if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em — the Oxford Dictionaries Online is sponsoring a contest for the best 50-word story inspired by the most recent additions (you could win an iPod Touch). That’s right, an iPod. Because while Walkman may have entered the OED in 1986, it got the Concise OED kibosh long ago. Who knew a dictionary could make you feel so old?