The National Spelling Bee Has Jumped the Shark
Well, it’s that time of year again. It seems the whole nation’s got Spelling Bee fever. Can you feel that, baby? That’s what I’m talking about! Unh!
What is it that makes this annual event so popular? Is it the age-old spirit of competition, the emphasis on brains over brawn, or the chance to match one’s own wits against a seventh-grader? Nope. The reason people love the Spelling Bee is they love to see little kids break down and cry. And this year, it looks like the producers of the Bee have figured that out, and personally, I think they’ve gone too far. They’ve written the example sentences in such a way to wring maximum emotional impact from these fragile little intellects.
Take a look at these actual, genuine example sentences that appeared on this week’s National Spelling Bee. These are real, and I haven’t changed, altered, or made them up in any way whatsoever. These appeared verbatim, on national television. If you don’t believe me, why don’t you come over to my house? I have the whole thing on tape and I’ll show it to you. Then we’ll see who’s the liar, liar. Yeah, that’s what I thought.*
*not really, these are all made up
Key
K = Kid
P = Spelling Bee Word Pronouncer
P: “Bellipotent.”
K: “Could you use it in a sentence?”
P: “I wouldn’t want to miss an easy first-round word like 'bellipotent'; they’d never let me live that one down when I got back to school on Monday.”
P: “Scalar.”
K: “Could you use it in a sentence?”
P: “The girl who misspelled ‘bellipotent’ is much cuter than the girl who’s about to misspell ‘scalar’.”
P: “Noyau.”
K: “Could you use it in a sentence?”
P: “In a viewer survey following the nationally televised spelling bee, the most popular response to the question, ‘What was the highpoint of the broadcast?’ was ‘When the kid misspelled ‘noyau’ and totally spazzed out and lost it.'”
P: “Lixiviate.”
K: “Could you use it in a sentence?”
P: “If you misspell ‘lixiviate’, you’re pretty much ensuring yourself a one-way ticket to running down those stairs on the left side of the stage and spending the rest of the afternoon crying into your mom’s boobs.”
P: “Chechia.”
K: “Could you use it in a sentence?”
P: “I can’t tell if this kid’s about to spell 'chechia' or piss himself.”
P: “Phaechrous.”
K: “Could you use it in a sentence?”
P: “The old man said to his wife, ‘So help me God, Judith, if it ever gets to the point where I can’t spell a simple word like ‘phaechrous’, just go ahead and put me out of my misery.'”
P: “Epopt.”
K: “Could you use it in a sentence?”
P: “When asked to spell ‘epopt,’ the kid replied, ‘Could you use it in a sentence?’ in this totally gay voice.”
What is it that makes this annual event so popular? Is it the age-old spirit of competition, the emphasis on brains over brawn, or the chance to match one’s own wits against a seventh-grader? Nope. The reason people love the Spelling Bee is they love to see little kids break down and cry. And this year, it looks like the producers of the Bee have figured that out, and personally, I think they’ve gone too far. They’ve written the example sentences in such a way to wring maximum emotional impact from these fragile little intellects.
Take a look at these actual, genuine example sentences that appeared on this week’s National Spelling Bee. These are real, and I haven’t changed, altered, or made them up in any way whatsoever. These appeared verbatim, on national television. If you don’t believe me, why don’t you come over to my house? I have the whole thing on tape and I’ll show it to you. Then we’ll see who’s the liar, liar. Yeah, that’s what I thought.*
*not really, these are all made up
Key
K = Kid
P = Spelling Bee Word Pronouncer
P: “Bellipotent.”
K: “Could you use it in a sentence?”
P: “I wouldn’t want to miss an easy first-round word like 'bellipotent'; they’d never let me live that one down when I got back to school on Monday.”
P: “Scalar.”
K: “Could you use it in a sentence?”
P: “The girl who misspelled ‘bellipotent’ is much cuter than the girl who’s about to misspell ‘scalar’.”
P: “Noyau.”
K: “Could you use it in a sentence?”
P: “In a viewer survey following the nationally televised spelling bee, the most popular response to the question, ‘What was the highpoint of the broadcast?’ was ‘When the kid misspelled ‘noyau’ and totally spazzed out and lost it.'”
P: “Lixiviate.”
K: “Could you use it in a sentence?”
P: “If you misspell ‘lixiviate’, you’re pretty much ensuring yourself a one-way ticket to running down those stairs on the left side of the stage and spending the rest of the afternoon crying into your mom’s boobs.”
P: “Chechia.”
K: “Could you use it in a sentence?”
P: “I can’t tell if this kid’s about to spell 'chechia' or piss himself.”
P: “Phaechrous.”
K: “Could you use it in a sentence?”
P: “The old man said to his wife, ‘So help me God, Judith, if it ever gets to the point where I can’t spell a simple word like ‘phaechrous’, just go ahead and put me out of my misery.'”
P: “Epopt.”
K: “Could you use it in a sentence?”
P: “When asked to spell ‘epopt,’ the kid replied, ‘Could you use it in a sentence?’ in this totally gay voice.”
posted by Nathan at 6:39 AM
7 Comments:
Those aren't real words. Are those real words? They can't be real.
Sorry, "scalar" is a real word...
They all are, actually. They always have the kids in the Spelling Bee spell actual words. It sort of levels the playing field when the words existed before the kids were asked to spell them.
No, seriously, I'm terribly sorry, but "scalar" is NOT a real word. It's sort of like negative energy or imaginary numbers; it can be written on paper, but when applied in a tangible manner, it cannot be used. Like the strangeness attribute of certain quantum particles, the word "scalar" is a series of speech sounds that symbolizes and communicates a meaning without being divisible into smaller units capable of independent use. Thus, in this context, non-real words cannot exist. As well, "scalar" is a violation of Kiri-kin-tha's First Law of Metaphysics.
Or it could be defined as - quantity calculated from two vectors.
This guy Lieutenant Colonel Tom Bearden knew a hell of a lot about it.
Of course I'm not lame enough to have known that either. I looked it up. JJ, Your way seemed too difficult and made me want to take a bunch of pills.
My way? What way is that? What method of doing or happening are you refering to?
I'm sorry, JJ. I meant your explanation. I could have accepted your explanation, but it was far too complex. If it were true, I probably would have made up a definition for each of these words so I wouldn't have to think about your response. It's nothing personal.
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