Lust, Caution: Not-Ang Lee's Take on Not-Film as Clint Eastwood Looks On

I am currently listening to a dumb bitch speak. "Speak" is a pretty generous word, but I'm feeling pretty damn generous. Her words are more intelligible than someone who's just been mouth-punched by a koala (don't steal their leaves), thus I'm noticing a definite trend. Like. Like. Like. All like. He was like. I'm like . . .

Now, I realize that "like" has become a regular part of most everyone's speak-times. Sure, we can avoid it when we write, but when we're talking that "like" just slips its way in like a frat guy telling a freshman he has real feelings for her. I admit, "like" does have benefits. It is second only to swearing in its ability to make stories that much better. Allow me to elaborate . . . all over your face. Nah, I'll just type some more. Like I was saying, "like" is a story enhancer:

"So I was talking to this douche. He was like 7 feet tall and like 300 pounds. It was all, like, muscle. So I flipped him off and was like, 'Fuck off, asshole!'"

Aside from the absolutely scintillating nature of this short piece of dialogue, there are some "likes" that need explanation. The first two "likes" make this guy seem, like, a hell of a lot bigger than he actually is/was ("was" is the word to use if you kill the douche): story enhancing method number one. The third "like" could possibly be bundled with the first two as simple exaggeration, but I see it as a concession to the audience. No one is 300 pounds of pure muscle. The vast majority of humans have things like bones, hearts, even genitals. So this third "like" is admitting that a certain amount of artistic license is being utilized.

The last "like" is the most ambiguous, thus the most problematic. That type of "like" is occasionally used to simultaneously express what the speaker intended to say and what was actually said. More often than not, however, this type of "like" is used to express the discrepancy between what one would say were one in possession of a handgun and what one truly said sans a .44 Magnum ("the most powerful handgun in the world").

Your response to this final type of "like" should be this: "You actually said that?" In most cases, the story-teller will say something akin to, "No, but I thought it!" or "Fuck no! That dude was, like, 300 pounds! But I almost said it!" Your response can be either applause--what quick wit your friend possesses!--or applause--not a typo; I mean pretend your buddy's face is your other hand.

This final "like" is the most disturbing; without a clarifying question, you're letting your friend get away with unwarranted badassitude. We mustn't allow that. It's unfair to the actual badasses out there, the ones who not only have the wit necessary to tell people off but also the .44 Magnum (which "could blow your head clean off") with which to back up said wit.

This diatribe may lead to the belief that I don't use "like" in most every conversation. Nothing could be further from the truth. There's nothing like a good "like" to make me sound like something other than a gibbering idiot--a tough person, perhaps. "You actually said that?" "I said I was like, (insert clever retort). How much clearer can I be?"

On a related but not entirely untangential (yes, it's a real word; no, don't look it up) note , I would like to propose an alternative to the rather stale "like": Lust. Hear me out (I first typed "here me out," correct were I a caveman commenting on being outside and the particular place is, in fact, "here"). We live in a Madison Avenue society in which sex sells. You, like a cigarette-smoking, bald ad executive trying to convince older women that douching with a particular brand will guarantee the procurement of multiple muscular sexual partners, are trying to sell your story. Your experiences are, in all likelihood, shit, without a touch of embellishment. Like I mentioned before, "like" can help you provide that extra glitter. But, since Uncle Freud insists that you are either thinking with your mouth, genitals or anus, adding a bit of sexuality--lust-- to your stories should help your audience accept them as literal truth. Example:

"So I was talking to this douche. He was lust 7 feet tall and lust 300 pounds. It was all, lust, muscle. So I flipped him off and was lust, 'Fuck off, asshole!'"

Now that's believable. And sexy. What an amazing combination. "Lust" is simply a more powerful version of "like," so this example is simply a more powerful version of the previous quote (for the sake of my ego, let's pretend that "like" cannot be used to compare things; only one definition of "like" suits my argument, so, lust, let's stick to it).

To wrap things up, just remember that if you've ever forgotten your handgun--and you asked yourself, "Do I feel lucky?" and came up a little short in the courage department--but want to pretend as though you've said something of consequence, just use "lust" as you relate the story to your ugly, overweight, blotchy-faced, hermaphroditic friends.