Makes you, like, wanna SCREAM!!

Roger Rabbits
with Jim Bunny

 Like… what are we doing to the word “like“?
It’s been an extremely useful and versatile little word that has served the English language well for 200 years.
It deserves a little respect.
It’s a preposition, a conjunction – “I feel like I have been run over by a bus” – it’s a noun, an adverb, and adjective – “I shouted back in a like manner.” A busy little work is “like.”
But now it’s being bastardised, mutilated, mangled.
And I wonder why?
Recently I was unwittingly drawn into a two day immersion course on how to drop the word ”like” into a sentence with eye-popping and exasperating regularity.
“Hi, like, welcome to, like, the intensely annoying, like, world of superfluous “likes”.”
You, like, get the picture?
“….like, like…”
My “like” immersion course was held by a couple of young, expert “like” practitioners who stopped at my gaff for a weekend. They laced every sentence  with the word “like” – whether it made sense, whether it added anything to the understanding, and regardless of whether it was necessary or not.
“I, like, woke up this morning and, like, I couldn’t, like, figure where I was. Like it was weird.”
The “like” assault started before my first coffee. And I was so distracted by the spray of “likes” I would miss the thread of a conversation. I couldn’t give them answers to their questions or responses to their comments because I had been kidnapped by “likes”.
The ugliest use of “like” involved recounting conversations. “I was like, how are you? And he was like… OK!” What’s wrong with “I asked how he was?” and “he replied he was OK!” It’s worked pretty well that way for a long time, hasn’t it?
So, in a very short time, the excessive and unnecessary use of “like” became a pet peeve. And this weekend host went from reasonably rational and hospitable to deeply agitated and distressed.
It did my head.
The idiomatic use of the filler word “like” is apparently a global phenomenon, and I, like a lot of people, quickly and wrongly blamed the young and female demographic. However, I am reminded lots of people speak this way. And filler words also have to include the ubiquitous “um” or “ah” – other words or sounds people employ to fill awkward empty spaces.
Young people, and some not so young people, use “like” to clutter up their speech and their sentences, often inoffensively and without thinking. It can be used for anything from filling dead air to deliberately lightening a statement.
“I think we owe, like $10,000”, or “I was out on my bike for, like three hours” or “they’re, like very upset”. Are “like” abusers aware they are actually doing it.
“… like, like, like…”
Perhaps I am being intolerant and judgy.
As you get older it doesn’t take much.
But there are two schools of thought at play here.
At best, dropping too many likes into a sentence sounds clumsy and unprofessional. At worst a bit uneducated, a bit dumb. However there are linguistic studies suggesting people who say “like” may actually be more intelligent than those who don’t.
Really?
Discourse fillers such as “like” are a sign of more considered speech, and a smattering of “likes” helps those people navigate their thoughts. People who use “like” are constantly redrafting their thoughts, so a “like” is a signal from a conscientious person with complex thoughts to process. And I thought it was just lazy speech. I might have to start using “like” a lot more myself.
It’s also interesting that the excessive use of “like” has been likened to another vocal feature… the upward inflection at the end of a sentence, ending every sentence like you’re asking a question.  
“… so, like…”
I quizzed a sharp young colleague about “like” and he went straight on the defensive. “I don’t do it…” Then a quizzical “… do I?”  No, his filler is “um”.
Reckons he had talkative parents and his “ums” were a cue for them to know he had more to say.
Why do we find “um”, which is just another way of expressing doubt or uncertainty, or filling an awkward gap, perfectly acceptable, but not “like”.
Probably because I “um” and stutter and sputter myself. But I never “like”.
If “like” simply buys time while you gather your thoughts, then what’s wrong with silence. Nothing like a powerful, silent, pregnant pause to keep your audience focused.
What about “like” therapy; can we break the habit?
I am told slow the speech. You’re not giving yourself a chance to cull the “likes” when talking fast. Use new more appropriate fillers – “for example”, or “nearly” or “about”.  
Other suggestions include tapping your leg every time you say “like”. Apparently word-actions help us be more aware of how we speak. Or when you feel a “like” coming on, pause and take a breath.
I didn’t take anything away from my full immersion course apart from a full-blown case of onomatophobia – the fear of hearing a certain word. The only known antidote is a strong drink.