Gossip is in the Ear of the Beholder.
Gossip is in the Ear of the Beholder.
Friends, Romans, Countrymen-do not lend me your ears.
I come to bury gossip, not to praise it. For the quality of slander is not restrained. It is twice cursed. Gossip curseth him that gives and him that takes.
Since the beginning of time people have talked about each other. I am certain in caveman times they sat around rubbing sticks together: “When is Ug ever going to evolve and get his paws off the ground? ”
However, the word gossip didn’t surface in our language until Old English. The word godsib originally referred to a close female friend present at the birth of a child, for whom she would assume the role of a godparent. This woman was the confidante to the new mother. She would say things like “ There, there. Stop your blatting. That stomach will go down eventually.”
Then the term evolved to describe intimate sharing of personal information. And the godsib would say things “I had a baby whose head was squished like that but I made a joke about it. “Bus driver, bus driver please open the door.”
It further expanded to the current use of evaluative talk about a third party in his or her absence. “ Doesn’t my god-child look at lot like the parish vicar?”
Out of this, the town gossip became a staple in the community. This was someone who elevated gossip beyond a mere pastime,
He arbitrarily appointed himself the neighborhood watch. He sat outside a store and talked about everybody and everything going on around him, whether it was true or not. My neighbourhood gossip circulated a rumour that I was diagnosed with a fatal illness. Apparently, I am not expected to live. Gosh, I hope I make it.
There needs to be a quota of gossipmongers in each strata of society. However if they cluster in one location, it’s called parliament. Or the foreign press.
From the onset, it was discovered that tittle-tattle could quickly undermine a person’s reputation. Hark back to Elizabethan times. A malicious gossip started a rumour about the village bookkeeper. In a matter of days this woman had the whole town chanting, “Drown the son of a bitch from accounting”. Or maybe they were saying: “Drown the funny witch from the county.” Who knows? You can never understand a madding crowd when they don’t have their wooden teeth in. Besides gossip is like the telephone game. It gets more ridiculous as it gets passed down the line. During WW-2 a military commander ordered his officers; “It’s time to advance.” By the time it was parleyed to the troops, they thought he had said, “Let’s go to the dance.” We’re lucky we’re not goose-stepping right now.
The key distinction is between good and bad gossip. Good gossip is when you’re talking about other people. Bad gossip is when they’re talking about you.
In fact, psychiatrists claim at work, gossip is the number one cause of employee absenteeism and excess alcohol consumption.
Okay, my psychiatrist said that!
I was having hearing issues from keeping my ear to the ground. I had to get into work early in the morning, and stay until everybody left, to ensure no one was talking about me. It was exhausting. You don’t get over time for being the office busy body and gossip doesn’t improve people’s behavior. They don’t stop eating donuts after they just got back from their Weight Watchers meeting. People with bad haircuts still go out and get their ugly Aerosmith mullets. And, Janet and Glenn from marketing do not stop texting each other porn on their Blackberrys.
In fact, a text message can malign a person’s reputation in seconds. Like that email about me and a certain intern sent around after the Kingston City Hall Xmas party. Let me say this once and for all, I did NOT SLEEP WITH THAT MAN. A second time.
That incident brought home to roost, the mighty sway of gossip’s scepter. I said to myself, Deb you get enough gossip, on TV and reading the National Enquirer in the grocery store check out. I quit cold turkey. I stopped gathering round the water cooler, started carrying a water bottle. I got myself a patch. The Be Quiet and Mind Your Own Beeswax Patch. Every time I had a craving to be nosy, I slapped that sucker on and now I am like a converted smoker, I think gossip should be banned at work. City council should pass a by-law that says no rumours or innuendos allowed within 15 meters of the office building. If you have to talk trash you can go outside in the cold and at least then we’d know who was at the helm of the rumour machine.
In fact, aren’t gossip and smoking very much alike? When people exhale you get their second-hand truth all over you. And its toxic waste sticks to you long after they’ve left. It’s a lot like when someone comes up to you and says,” Oh, are you not feeling well?” Up until that moment, you were feeling perfectly fine but once those words land on you, you start getting feverish and cold and it’s the same with gossip. It creates doubt and fear. I had a friend. The office gossip came up to her and asked if the boss had talked to her about her recent report? An innocent remark but still my friend thought she was in trouble so she went to the boss and out of guilt started confessing to taking pencils, fudging her expense reports and having inappropriate dreams about him wearing a tool belt. In the end, the boss fired her.
Okay that last story was a lie. Or an urban myth. But it underlines the point. You can’t trust a word, a gossip says.
So I say lets not be soft on verbal terrorism. Let’s not pretend you don’t know a gossip when you hear one. She says things like: “Don’t say you heard it from me”, or “A little bird told me”. I say if someone is quoting birds perhaps she isn’t trustworthy. Perhaps she is the messenger and you can shoot her. Or at least adjust her medication.
Gossips should be made to pay. They should be dragged out at the next staff meeting and made to confess: “I’m a dirty little tattletale. I’m an inside-traitor. My words create weapons of mass repercussion. I’m exactly like Andrew Morton and his unauthorized biographies.” (Not that there is anything wrong with Andrew Morton, he’s no Linda Tripp or Kitty Kelly. Oops. See once you get started you can’t stop.)
I do admit there may be a few bugs to work out in my zero tolerance policy. In order to punish the gossiper, we would have to have report the gossiper for gossiping, which would mean they were indeed gossiping so like Shylock, it might be a bit difficult to extract the pound of flesh. Until then, I can keep reciting bad Shakespeare and commit to being a merchant of venom no more.
Gossip is in the Ear of the Beholder - To learn more about this author, visit Deborah Kimmett's Website.
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GOSSIP IS IN THE EAR OF THE BEHOLDER
Friends, Romans, Countrymen-do not lend me your ears.
I come to bury gossip, not to praise it. For the quality of slander is not restrained. It is twice cursed. Gossip curseth him that gives and him that takes.
Since the beginning of time people have talked about each other. I am certain in caveman times they sat around rubbing sticks together: “When is Ug ever going to evolve and get his paws off the ground? ”
However, the word gossip didn’t surface in our language until Old English. The word godsib originally referred to a close female friend present at the birth of a child, for whom she would assume the role of a godparent. This woman was the confidante to the new mother. She would say things like “ There, there. Stop your blatting. That stomach will go down eventually.”
Then the term evolved to describe intimate sharing of personal information. And the godsib would say things “I had a baby whose head was squished like that but I made a joke about it. “Bus driver, bus driver please open the door.”
It further expanded to the current use of evaluative talk about a third party in his or her absence. “ Doesn’t my god-child look at lot like the parish vicar?”
Out of this, the town gossip became a staple in the community. This was someone who elevated gossip beyond a mere pastime,
He arbitrarily appointed himself the neighborhood watch. He sat outside a store and talked about everybody and everything going on around him, whether it was true or not. My neighbourhood gossip circulated a rumour that I was diagnosed with a fatal illness. Apparently, I am not expected to live. Gosh, I hope I make it.
There needs to be a quota of gossipmongers in each strata of society. However if they cluster in one location, it’s called parliament. Or the foreign press.
From the onset, it was discovered that tittle-tattle could quickly undermine a person’s reputation. Hark back to Elizabethan times. A malicious gossip started a rumour about the village bookkeeper. In a matter of days this woman had the whole town chanting, “Drown the son of a bitch from accounting”. Or maybe they were saying: “Drown the funny witch from the county.” Who knows? You can never understand a madding crowd when they don’t have their wooden teeth in. Besides gossip is like the telephone game. It gets more ridiculous as it gets passed down the line. During WW-2 a military commander ordered his officers; “It’s time to advance.” By the time it was parleyed to the troops, they thought he had said, “Let’s go to the dance.” We’re lucky we’re not goose-stepping right now.
The key distinction is between good and bad gossip. Good gossip is when you’re talking about other people. Bad gossip is when they’re talking about you.
In fact, psychiatrists claim at work, gossip is the number one cause of employee absenteeism and excess alcohol consumption.
Okay, my psychiatrist said that!
I was having hearing issues from keeping my ear to the ground. I had to get into work early in the morning, and stay until everybody left, to ensure no one was talking about me. It was exhausting. You don’t get over time for being the office busy body and gossip doesn’t improve people’s behavior. They don’t stop eating donuts after they just got back from their Weight Watchers meeting. People with bad haircuts still go out and get their ugly Aerosmith mullets. And, Janet and Glenn from marketing do not stop texting each other porn on their Blackberrys.
In fact, a text message can malign a person’s reputation in seconds. Like that email about me and a certain intern sent around after the Kingston City Hall Xmas party. Let me say this once and for all, I did NOT SLEEP WITH THAT MAN. A second time.
That incident brought home to roost, the mighty sway of gossip’s scepter. I said to myself, Deb you get enough gossip, on TV and reading the National Enquirer in the grocery store check out. I quit cold turkey. I stopped gathering round the water cooler, started carrying a water bottle. I got myself a patch. The Be Quiet and Mind Your Own Beeswax Patch. Every time I had a craving to be nosy, I slapped that sucker on and now I am like a converted smoker, I think gossip should be banned at work. City council should pass a by-law that says no rumours or innuendos allowed within 15 meters of the office building. If you have to talk trash you can go outside in the cold and at least then we’d know who was at the helm of the rumour machine.
In fact, aren’t gossip and smoking very much alike? When people exhale you get their second-hand truth all over you. And its toxic waste sticks to you long after they’ve left. It’s a lot like when someone comes up to you and says,” Oh, are you not feeling well?” Up until that moment, you were feeling perfectly fine but once those words land on you, you start getting feverish and cold and it’s the same with gossip. It creates doubt and fear. I had a friend. The office gossip came up to her and asked if the boss had talked to her about her recent report? An innocent remark but still my friend thought she was in trouble so she went to the boss and out of guilt started confessing to taking pencils, fudging her expense reports and having inappropriate dreams about him wearing a tool belt. In the end, the boss fired her.
Okay that last story was a lie. Or an urban myth. But it underlines the point. You can’t trust a word, a gossip says.
So I say lets not be soft on verbal terrorism. Let’s not pretend you don’t know a gossip when you hear one. She says things like: “Don’t say you heard it from me”, or “A little bird told me”. I say if someone is quoting birds perhaps she isn’t trustworthy. Perhaps she is the messenger and you can shoot her. Or at least adjust her medication.
Gossips should be made to pay. They should be dragged out at the next staff meeting and made to confess: “I’m a dirty little tattletale. I’m an inside-traitor. My words create weapons of mass repercussion. I’m exactly like Andrew Morton and his unauthorized biographies.” (Not that there is anything wrong with Andrew Morton, he’s no Linda Tripp or Kitty Kelly. Oops. See once you get started you can’t stop.)
I do admit there may be a few bugs to work out in my zero tolerance policy. In order to punish the gossiper, we would have to have report the gossiper for gossiping, which would mean they were indeed gossiping so like Shylock, it might be a bit difficult to extract the pound of flesh. Until then, I can keep reciting bad Shakespeare and commit to being a merchant of venom no more.
Gossip is in the Ear of the Beholder - To learn more about this author, visit Deborah Kimmett's Website.
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