Every day I dip into the sea of computer speak and come up dripping.
I was thinking about this the other morning while accessing my e-mail, at the same time downloading the contents of the new Black Eyed Peas CD to my hard drive, so that I could burn it onto a blank disk using iTunes. I do a little podcasting before the taking of toast and tea, meaning that I use collaborative software (iTunes) to play music on my iPod and other MP3 players (from MPEG-1 Audio Layer 3, a digital-encoding format invented at the University of Hanover, Germany, in 1991). I then can share it with my daughter, who actually likes Peas.
Most of the highlighted words above have become part of our language. We’ve known for a good while that a “hard drive” is not just a lengthy car trip to grandmother’s house with a backseat of brats, and that we “download” things to our computers (and “upload” when we send things out). Recently we’ve learned that to “burn” something is to copy its data to a CD or to a DVD, an optical disk storage device similar to a CD, but of higher density, with a built-in file system. Unlike CD (compact disk), DVD doesn’t stand for anything, though some refer to it as a “digital video disc” (a limited definition since it also holds nonvideo data). It was a compromise acronym decided on by the consortium of giant electronics companies that agreed on its format in 1995. They were hoping to avoid the kind of format struggles that plagued Betamax and VHS (which, btw, officially stands for Video Home System but originally stood for Vertical Helical Scan, after the head-tape technique it used).
Many techno terms are examples of what the online resource Wikipedia calls portmanteaux: words that carry or blend the meanings of two words, like cell phone or podcasting, a combination of “iPod” and “broadcasting” that means to distribute audio and video programs via the Internet. Wikipedia itself is a portmanteau of “wiki,” a collection of material visited online using collaborative software, and the dead-tree word “encyclopedia.” (“Dead tree” refers to print media, like that which you hold in your hands.)
Some techno words become uniquely punchy verbs. You fisk someone online by offering a detailed rebuttal of what they’ve written or said, a process named for Robert Fisk, Middle East correspondent for the British newspaper The Independent. People in the MSM (mainstream media) don’t like it that their articles and programs can be instantly fisked online. (Ask Dan Rather and Martha Mapes.)
There are definite trends in technological language. For instance, in the 1990s, the letter “e” (for “electronic”) was a popular prefix, as in “e-mail,” “eBay,” “eTrade,” and other Internet-related enterprises. Eventually, the “e” brands became diluted, lost their zip. In our new century, the It brands are “i” brands.
Apple Computer has very successfully marketed iPod, a compact digital music player. In referring to this device, the company never uses the definite article. This is intentional. While builders of condominiums insist on giving their luxury shrines names like The
Tennyson, The Royal Sheridan, etc., the Apple people want iPod to be kind of mythic, sui generis, in the clipped, cryptic techno way. Thus, no “the.” The “i” coinages began with the introduction of the iMac, a version of the Macintosh computer that was Internet-ready, hence the “i.” Apple has since created any number of “i” products: iSight, iChat, iTunes, iDVD, iBook. There are also various non-Apple knockoffs, like iHome, a clock radio for docking your iPod, and iPal, a radio with an outlet for your iPod, and so on. There is even talk, or cyberchat, about an iGeneration, presumably of multitasking, technologically superliterate young people perpetually nodding along to their earbuds (the tiny earphones for
iPods). But as numerous companies try to take advantage of the halo effect cast by the iPod, even the lowercase “i” is now in danger of dilution.
The makers of a fancy DVR (digital video recorder) for satellite TV didn’t take any chances naming their new device. They went straight to a branding agency. They wanted something friendly, not technical, but related to TV. Hence, TiVo (pronounced TEE-vo), cute-sounding but with the core message headlined in uppercase letters, clearly a concept dreamed up by Madison Avenue types, not geeks.
The most fascinating techno language of all, really, is the day-to-day language of the Web itself, the astounding, salty, cerebral language of the posters and the blogs (a portmanteau of “web” and “log”). It’s fast, glib, and abbreviated, like stenography: lol (laugh out loud), bbl (be back later), omg (oh my god), imho (in my humble opinion), prolly (for “probably,” a verbal shorthand that predates the Internet) and, of course, the ubiquitous btw (by the way).
Finally, there are those little face pictures that you view sideways (:=) known as emoticons (a portmanteau of “emotion” and “icon”). They are all over the net, especially on threads, the running commentary in chat rooms and political opinion sites, which can make you happy 🙂 or annoyed 🙁 depending on your affiliation. You can use emoticons to wave hello (o/), but be careful to strike the right slash or you will be giving the Nazi salute (
o).
There is quite a lot of truly off-color material online, so it is not surprising that there are emoticons for, well-type an “8,” and a “D” and some equal signs in between, then use your imagination. One could have quite an orgy using just the keys on your computer keyboard. Then again, when it comes to modern technospeak, I have only a menu-level grasp. Which is why it might be best at this point to shut up (:-x .
