LOL! This abbreviation has become a common punctuation at the end of text messages, emails, chat texts, and even in conversational sentences. Personally, I find its usage uncomfortable because it implies the act of laughing out loudly (LOL), which I think is crazy if one is alone. More precisely, the usage of the ?word? in phone text messages, email, chat and other personalized communication channels, except during conversations is outright insane because in these circumstances users are generally withdrawn from influence of a second or third party. In fact, in my entire conscious life, I have not seen a person laugh out loudly at a phone or computer. Of course, I do not deny the possibility that these actions are done in the safe confines of one?s private room. But even in these places laughing out loudly to yourself may only be justified by an unchecked, carefree attitude commonly adopted in one’s “own space.” Otherwise, it is rather peculiar to break into hysterical laughter when alone. Having argued thus, I must confess that I have found myself laughing uncontrollably and loudly alone in my room at something funny I saw in a movie, on the internet or something I heard on the radio. I have found some articles on the daily paper so tickling that I just had to break into spasmodic loud laughs. However, during these times I never grabbed my phone to text my friends that I was LOL. I just did not see how in my frenzied state I could punch the right letters to send my friends a text message saying that I was LOL. Only when I calmed down did my vision cleared enough to see the right numbers to dial. So, how do I account for the commonplace use of the word in text messages and other forms of succinct communications? First, I exclude myself from the world. I excise myself because, obviously, if I assume many other people are, like me, unable to simultaneously text their friends and maintain energetic loud laughs, then I confront a huge wall called common sense knowledge. Secondly, I must credit language learners and progressive creators of creoles. LOL is a native word of the Dutch meaning ?fun,? and thus conveys the same implied meaning of laughter. I must assume that a significant majority has learned Dutch, or are native speakers who, desiring to add variety to the English language imported the Dutch vocabulary and incorporated it in communications in the latter language. The usage of the word, of course, would have to be detached from the more formal mainstream long hand messaging. Colloquializing its usage would foster its appreciation in short hand quick texts in emails, IMs, Chats, etc. In order to do this, language learners turned to the Welsh, where LOL means “nonsense.” Thus, LOL was born (a Creole) and advanced through constant usage in between-friends communication channels such as text messages. I was privileged to have been a terminal in this advancement of a new Creole. Unfortunately, I haven’t passed on the signal, yet. Nonetheless, the usage of LOL at present is so ubiquitous that dictionaries have included it as a proper word in English. One database (computerhope.com) has two definitions for LOL: 1. Shorthand for Laughing out Loud or Laugh out Loud, LOL is the most commonly used chat expressions to illustrate you are laughing during a text conversation or that you found something funny. LOL is also less commonly short for Lots of Laughter and Laughing on Line and is also often substituted by LAL, LAWL (Laughing a Whole Lot), and LOLZ. Although already an abbreviation LOL is also sometimes abbreviated even more as LL. Finally, LAWL is also used as a slang term that phonetically spells out ‘lol’. This is often said in the real life or over VoIP by someone who may type in lol a lot in chat. 2. Although not as common as the above definition of LOL, this term can also mean Lots of Love and may be something added at the end of an e-mail, letter, or other correspondence. As observed in 2, above, LOL is short for Lots of Love. It can also mean Lots of Luck. However, these usages are rarely seen in short hand text messaging, and even in their own realm of usage in letters and emails, it is uncommon to sign off a letter with the abbreviation. In fact, its usage is less common than the dated TLC (tender loving care). Inasmuch as I have discussed my point of view regarding the usage of LOL, I must add that it isn?t the only word (or abbreviation) that has set my ?what?s that?? radar off. When I was in high school there was a common vocabulary that had been created a little while earlier but whose usage was unproportionally overarching. Before I enrolled in high school I was already aware of the word “monolisation” and its meaning did elicit a certain degree of fear of high school life. Basically, monolisation is a verb for the practice of bullying incoming freshmen in high schools in Kenya. The practice was very common in Kenyan high schools in the 1990s but it has died out recently. I joined high school when the practice was in its deathbed, and when I graduated in 2004, monolisation was ebbing out its last iota of life. The birth of the vocabulary was akin to the birth of any other Creole. According to rumors, it took a little understanding of Greek and English verbs to create the word. Freshmen in Kenya are popularly referred to as Form Ones, and the Greek word for one (single) is mono. The creators at the time, armed rudimental understanding of the nuances of the English language, transformed mono into monolise (verb), and subjected the verb to existing mechanism of the English language to create monolisation. Needless to say, the usage of the new word had to duly demonstrate its potency to bear its intended meaning – bullying. Therefore, its usage was inevitably accompanied by brutal aggression toward freshmen and new students. When I joined high school, monolisation had percolated the administrative systems, and its practice was subtle but active. Although at the time the practice was decried by the public for its role in disturbing students? progress in schools, at St. Patrick’s monolisation was not only necessary but it was an indispensable tradition. It was a welcome ritual for freshmen, and an important initiation into high school life. Freshmen who avoided actual physical monolisation by the more expressive upper classmen were bookmarked for a less violent, but significantly harsher form of psychological monolisation. These ?lucky? ones were referred to a mysterious group of hardcore experts of monolisation. A painting of this group often depicted tall, unkempt fellows who reeked of flat beer and cigarette smoke. There were other rumors that one could easily catch a faint scent of the foul-smelling pit latrines (where they often smoked) shrouded in their heavily perfumed bodies. Still, others, painting even more gruesome pictures of these hardcore bullies hinted that they could devour their prey just by staring down at them. I did not see anyone fitting such description. Nevertheless, I, too, was subject to physical monolisation. This took many forms and was served in installments spread over the entire year. However, heavier installments were slotted for the first trimester and the load was reduced proportionally as the year progressed. It was not uncommon to find graduates of monolisation in the last trimester who had began their training as future heirs to the tradition. My dose of monolisation included an unconditional surrender of my free time in absolute dedication to doing laundry and other household chores for an upperclassman that netted me by aggressive persuasion. I was also required to assure that my caretaker remained well fed and comfortable – which meant sacrificing the only free slice of bread the school provided on Sunday morning. Occasionally I would be summoned to appear before a group of caretakers to amuse them with my clumsiness and obvious nervousness. I must state here, for fairness? sake, that there were upperclassmen that adorned the mask of bullies in order to appear to conform to tradition but in their own way were knights of justice that rescued helpless freshmen from certain depression. I know of one particular freshman who benefited greatly from such service. My experience with monolisation was mild compared to experiences narrated to me by my peers. I recall that there was a widely circulated story about a freshman whose bed was soaked in cold water and had to spend the night without linen. Luckily, he had developed bonds with a friend who provided him space and linen for the night. Many more horrid rumors were circulated but they were largely exaggerated to reflect the menacing threat implied by monolisation. Monolisation is, of course, uniquely a Kenyan vocabulary. Nonetheless, my high school life was colorful. I spent my sophomore year learning to monolise, and my junior year learning how to participate in extra curricular, while my senior year was spent serving the student administration and thinking ideas for the science club. However, with regards to monolisation I never really got to exercise it because the school administration succumbed to pressure from the Board of Governors to ban the practice. Hence, monolisation transformed, yet again, into an underground ritual. Those that underwent the ritual without much complaint became real men, while those that ran crying to the head teacher at the first hints of monolisation were forever shamed to live as cowards and sycophants. Believe you me, as much as kissing up to teachers was hailed as an effective means to get good grades and recommendation letters, it was deplorable to show obvious crybaby attitude. I didn?t want to appear leaning toward either side, so I never actively participated in monolisation schemes. In the long run, I never questioned the legitimacy of the usage of the word “monolisation” in English. But I realized one thing: the vocabulary doesn’t matter as long as the implied meaning is clear and popular with majority of people with common ties. LOL!