It’s not an actual word, but if I’m only going to live once, the last thing I want is a reminder of my mortality via acronym from a beer-guzzling frat bro. If the goal is to live every day like it’s my last, I’m not taking cues from that guy.
It’s the new douchebag, which is to say it’s the newest form of insecurity for the person who hurls the word like a slur. Mainstream rejection now seems to provoke a vengeful response: Hey, you don’t dress like me and my friends, and you don’t like my music, so you must be a jerk. But in calling out the guy with the curled mustache drinking artisanal beer as trying too hard, it’s the detractor with the peculiar preoccupations who comes across as self-conscious. The insult, per usual, is less about its mark than its wounded messenger.
Like a piece of cheap jewelry, this piece of marketing jargon has been the descriptor du jour to make something seem more flashy and important than it really is. That’s not a “brand activation,” it’s a sign. It’s not a “nightlife activation,” it’s a club. Unless you’re making a boardroom presentation, you’re not fooling anyone.
Hate-(insert verb here)
Sorry, but saying that you watch (or listen to, or read) something just because you hate it is a total cop-out: You love it, and you know it. Time to just start owning up. Last time we checked, people actively avoid things they hate, because, well ... you know.
Merriam-Webster defines it as “a crash in which two or more things or people hit each other,” so that surprising chat with the person you happened to bump into at your neighborhood coffee shop isn’t a collision—it’s a conversation.