“This time, it’s serial serious.”

A very long while ago, I began what was intended to be an ongoing series in tribute to something many studies conducted at prestigious universities have proven to the highest standards of scientific scrutiny: the fact that people love awesome. Sadly, as is often the case in life, I lost my way. But as the prodigal son, I have returned to the father’s home of blogging and even as I type he is killing the fatted calf of this blog post for me — and for you, dear reader — to feast upon. So come, allow him to place the signet ring of stretched metaphor on your finger and help yourself to a heaping portion of blog meat.

If you haven’t read the first post in the series yet. Read it here. It’s a good’ne. Which brings me to our first awesome item:

1) Antiquated British contractions

I’m a self-confessed Anglophile. I don’t know why. Perhaps I feel an affinity with the Mother Country because of shared heritage — namely pastiness, freckles and bitter, self-deprecating humour. Oh, and the way I spell humour. That too. Of the many things I love about England, their propensity for mashing the unlikeliest of words into a cumbersome contraction is very high on the list. Observe the following:

Ha’penny – Pronounced haypny, this is a contraction of half penny, which only sort of sounds similar. How they got there, I don’t know. Why anyone needs half a penny, I’m even less sure of. But the byzantine monetary system of the UK is an awesome thing for another post. As for the word byzantine, that’s already been covered here.

Ne’er/e’er/heav’n – These words are often (of’n?) featured in love poems and songs, apparently written by someone in a big hurry. Like the txtspk of the Elizabethan era, it’s how moody teenagers in Shakespeare’s day expressed things like ttyl and rotfl.

’twasn’t/’tweren’t – The fabled double contractions have baffled and intrigued linguists for generations. A curiosity to modern English speakers, I consider double contractions a challenge. How many apostrophes can I fit into one contraction? Ha’b'thday as a contraction of half birthday, for example. ‘twon’te’erbe for “It won’t ever be.” Or how about I’mno’sos’rethat’sag’d'dea for “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

It might sound stupid. It might, rather than making communication easier, make it more difficult; but that’s the beauty of English. Our forebears wove absurdity into the very fabric of our language. And that’s awesome. ‘Strewth.

2) Microwave Ovens

The Future has, in many ways, been disappointing so far. Sure, in many ways we’ve far exceeded the hopes and expectations of past generations. The ability and popularity of mobile devices is largely an unforeseen phenomenon, for example. But in many more ways, we’ve been unable to live up to the Utopian dreams of yesteryear, when the silver screen was aglow with images of flying cars, floating cities, robots and spaceships. There is one item, however, that I feel has entirely lived up to the hype of the Future and even exceeded it: the microwave oven.

Microwave ovens might not make food well, but the manner in which they make it is very futuristic. If we traveled back in time and told people that one day, not too far from now, we’ll be able to place uncooked food in a metal box, press a button and, harnessing the power of invisible waves, be able to cook an entire meal in minutes; they’d never believe us. I hardly believe us. Even the fact that microwaves give off that otherworldly glow and emit a droning sci fi hum as they cook feels too futuristic to be true. And that’s awesome.

Still not convinced? Try calling microwave ovens “Photon Ovens” or “Instant Food Preparation Units” for a week and see how you feel then.

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I was hoping to have more time to finish this post, but alas! ‘Twill’vet’wait (It will have to wait)! Hopefully there will be more awesome to come. Soon. Until then, in the words of Ulrich Zwingli, “Peace out!”