I think that literally may be my favourite word. Literally. Or figuratively. Or literally. I’m not exactly sure.

I’m not a big fan of the word literally. By which I don’t mean that I’m literally not a big fan, just I’m not fond of using the word. It doesn’t come out of my mouth much. I don’t feel as though it serves much of a purpose. It doesn’t feel nice in my mouth. It doesn’t have a particularly good sound.

But the word is beautiful for two reasons.

First, it is an excellent example of the evolution of the human language — a word that is taking a step in its evolution of meaning through my very own generation; where people my age cling vigorously to the old meaning, even as the new meaning becomes more common amongst other people my own age.

Second, bloggers go on hilarious rants.

You’re using the word wrong, these rants say. You said “my head literally exploded”, but it didn’t explode. That’s not what literally means.

That’s what they say. And I laugh. And laugh. And laugh.

Why? Because literally literally means written down, as in, that’s the original (literal) meaning of the word. So when our imaginary blogger says that “my head literally exploded” requires that a head has exploded, they are using the word literal figuratively, and complaining about a further figurative jump in the use of literal by others.

That the meaning of literal that we are most used to is a figurative literal is a nice little mind maze. I like it.

But it gets funnier.

Because by writing down the words “my head exploded”, it means that the person’s head literally exploded. Because it’s written down – that’s the literal literal, not the figurative literal, of course. So really, your angry blogger who thinks that the person using the figurative literal in error actually redeems the sentence through the act of typing, making it a valid figuratively literal use of the word literal in a non-figurative (ie, figuratively literal) manner.

And then, beyond all this, your angry blogger is simply missing that this is one of the most common evolutions in language — the increased emphasis. Once you have an expression like “my head exploded”, it’s hard to go up, make it bigger. But then something happens that needs more emphasis than the last thing. What do you do? What do you say?

You need to modify your sentence.

While some of us might reinforce the sentence by saying “my head exploded like it was scenery in Wrath of the Titans”, others might suggest that such sentences simply don’t roll off the tongue.

But what can one say to make the sentence hold more impact?

How about take a word, whose meaning is the opposite of figurative, and use it in a figurative manner. So they take our figurative literal and make it into a figurative figurative literal.

Is it any wonder?

I love this word. Literally.

Some of you may be familiar with Salvador Dalek (above), a knit Dalek created by my friend Sarah for Maggie.

Maggie loves Salvador, and so do I. In fact, if you take away the thank fuck, this is keeping her entertained and thank fuck, this is helping her to fall asleep properties of some of her other toys, Salvador comes out way on top, in my estimation. It really is the ultimate toy:

• Geeky in origin
• Based on something I love
• Made by a friend
• Amazing craftsmanship

Hard to beat, yes?

Yes. But not impossible. There is now a new generation of knit Dalek, looking to push out the old. EXTERMIKNIT!

Top photo is by me, and available in other sizes on Flickr.
Bottom photo is from Feather and Fan.

While I absolutely love and adore my Kindle, there is an associated moment of dread.

OK, it’s a moment of annoyance.

It’s that moment when, prior to takeoff, a flight attendant taps me on the shoulder and asks me to turn the thing off. Not just the wireless, but the whole damn device, as though it’s going to bring down the airplane if left on. The claim always seems ridiculous — the amount of power being used by a Kindle is miniscule; there’s no way it creates enough interference to cause any problems on the airplane.

Or so I believe. Lacking any of that stuff that we call proof, all I can do is meekly turn the thing off and stare sadly out the window.

Until now. Tests have been carried out, and there is no way my Kindle could cause the airplane to malfunction. In fact, it is even less dangerous than devices that are allowed. (Those devices are allowed because they are not dangerous at all).

So, next time I am asked to turn off my Kindle, prior to meekly turning it off, I will ask why. And jot down the answer, and plot the letter I will later write while staring sadly out the window.

Never cross a flight attendant on an airplane. That’s just bad news.

Photo of Corsair fighter firing on Okinawa, from Wikipedia. By U.S. Marine Corps, 1945.
Webcomic is Scenes From a Multiverse, by Jonathan Rosenberg.

Welcoming our Robot Overlords just became a bit easier, as Swiss scientists have demonstrated that robots can evolve to become altruistic. Of course, there is no guarantee that said altruism will extend to their meat-sack-slaves, but we can always hope.

Photo is of Orson Welles. Taken in 1964 by Nicolas Tikhomiroff on the set of Chimes at Midnight. Found at Bloomsbury Auctions.
Webcomic is Diesel Sweeties, by R. Stevens.