Woroni TV wants to hear the best zingers you’ve been subjected to when on the dating scene for an upcoming video ‘Weird Sh*t People Say on Dates’! If you’ve heard anything great, hella cute, random or one-liners which you think would make students gag enter it below ??????????????????????
Comments Off on Plant Care Each Day Keeps the Millennial Doubt Away
It seems, these days, that there is a new kind of interior accessory taking over student rooms. It is neither an Ikea faux sheepskin rug strewn artfully over a desk chair, nor clear acrylic stationery. Rather, the latest room addition, sought out by both green thumbs and plant murderers alike, is the humble indoor plant.
From succulents to ferns and everything in between, these green bundles of joy are a common sight in many a dilapidated student dorm or proudly rented first-time share house.
But why do we young folk seek so earnestly to bring elements of the outside world in? Why allow nature to infiltrate our blanket-insulated, scented-candle-permeated, Netflix-saturated abodes? Just as there is a plethora of foliage out there for purchase, there is a vast array of reasons for acquiring one. For those who have already abandoned all hope of decisiveness for the academic year, here follows a plant matching guide…
For the Loner – Orchids
Are you finding that plant owning is merely an attempt to channel your suppressed desire for human affection into caring for an inanimate object that won’t reciprocate your tender loving care? Try not to or-kid (haha) yourself – that special someone may be a long way off.
At least your financial investment into this relationship will pay off, with orchids living longer than any measly Tinder fling. For the price of a dinner for two, and with only minimal watering, you can have your own fragrant companion – who needs pheromones anyway?
For the Pessimist – Peace Lily
Are you completely overwhelmed by the state of the world and feeling utterly powerless to combat it? Have no fear, for the perfect plant alternative is here.
Hopefully, by caring for this small arbiter of tranquillity, you too can locate some kind of inner peace. Just maybe, even, it could help to quell that constant nihilist interior monologue. In addition, as you are someone who just has so much to give, this plant will appreciate your regular overwatering, being partial to continual saturation.
For the Broke – The Chinese Money Tree
Are you struggling to stay afloat between Centrelink payments and wincing at every automatic rent deduction from your transfers account? Rumoured to bring prosperity in Chinese Feng Shui tradition, these leafy friends can ward off future unexpected expenses and act as a constant warning against frivolous spending.
Furthermore, this plant’s need for sunlight will force you to open your windows and let in some rays, thereby not requiring artificial lighting – you’re practically saving money on your electricity bill!
For the Flake – The African Violet
Are you finding yourself overstretched, undernourished and unenthused? Like your wavering commitment to friendships, your attention to your plants may be similarly poor.
Have no fear, however, as this trooper is known to survive weeks without watering over the summer break. Unlike the demanding gal pal, this beauty will be very forgiving and bounce back from a lack of maintenance in no time! Perfect for those who have resolved to do the absolute bare minimum in as many activities as possible.
For the Vanilla – Chilli Plant
Are you battling through an extended dry spell or finding that your sex life is less than exciting? With a little added ~spice~ from this dangerous yet enlivening friend, you too could find yourself in need of a good fanning down.
Instead of a fifty-shades style pleasure room, these plants prefer a different kind of heated space, with sunny windowsills and greenhouses working best to support growth. Be sure, however, to keep the compost moist rather than soaking wet – it is possible to have too much of a good thing.
For the Standoffish – The Succulent
Are you sick of people judging you for your prickly exterior before they get to know your soft interior? These tenacious little guys are known to bring a smile to even the most rigid of resting bitch faces.
With their preference for soil as dry as your sense of humour, the humble cactus makes the perfect desktop accessory and assignment companion. Its sharp edges can also be used as a defence mechanism against unwanted social interaction. Bonus points for picking one up that’s haphazardly planted in a food can from a hipster market stall.
For the Wannabe Artisan – Herb Garden
Are you growing tired of consuming the same few carb-heavy meals on repeat? With a windowsill herb garden, the options for customising your key staples are endless.
To easily incorporate a dash of ‘le cosmopolitain’ into your tap water, add a sprig of mint. Same goes for parsley in your eggs and basil in your salads. Best leave coriander off the menu, though, as that plant is just way too divisive. Better to mildly impress your friends with something more mainstream than to leave them with the taste of soap in their mouths.
As you can see, it is certainly worth having nature infiltrate our blanket-insulated, scented-candle-permeated, Netflix-saturated abodes. Hopefully one of the above suggestions will inspire you to become one of the many plant guardians flourishing on and around this campus. After all, who doesn’t enjoy a good trip to Bunnings…
Comments Off on How to Identify a Gay or Lesbian Person
Before you begin your Freudian psychoanalysis, make sure to mention that you have a ‘gay-dar’, and don’t forget to detail how accurate it is and has always been. Frame it as an insurmountable achievement of yours. After all, it is much more prestigious than being awarded a Rhodes Scholarship. There’s no need to think about the reliability or accuracy of your data collection because you don’t have any, so just launch straight in.
Not everybody can be a gay or lesbian. There is a specific skill to identifying those of us who are. Here are some tell-tale signs that someone is a gay or lesbian:
The first thing to take note of when deciding someone’s sexuality on their behalf, namely whether a man is gay or not, is to observe how high-pitched their voice is. The more high-pitched their usual speaking voice is, the more likely it is that you are talking to a gay person. This is because the pitch of your voice has nothing to do with biology: it’s actually determined by your sexuality. Forget what scientists say – they’re all just conspiracy theorists, really.
The second hint to take note of is if they use excessive hand gestures, then they must be gay. The key to this one is that if you’re a man who is attracted to another man, you’ll tend to move your hands around more than the average person when speaking. This is evidenced by how the branches of trees tend to move around more outside in the wind than indoors. It’s the same logic as why witches, like Connie Booth, will weigh as much as a duck does. These species of human beings also tend to be well-groomed, wear strong cologne and enjoy going to gay bars. Just look at Christian Stovitz. How wrong can you be when the suspect is exactly like the gay man in Clueless? The answer is: not very. Hollywood is basically the comprehensive encyclopedia to understanding the diversity of minority communities within our society.
As for spotting lesbians, they will more likely than not have short hair, refuse to shave and wear bras, as well as be a part of the feminist movement. They also enjoy declaring their distaste for penises every five minutes of any conversation about politics, the economy or quantum physics. They graze in small herds and tend to be too busy reading The Vagina Monologues and braiding their underarm hair to care that you don’t think the patriarchy exists. Lesbians also commonly have tattoos and piercings on every ten square centimetres of skin surface area. She’s got a tongue piercing ? Definitely a lesbian. This is a flawless application of modus ponens logic; you should be proud, you’re halfway to a hypothetical syllogism.
Remember: brainwashing is a good thing. You’ve got to give it a good scrub. But don’t forget to dab it dry afterwards, or it won’t make that squeaky-clean sound when you rub your endless knowledge into it. If others are sounding convinced, be impressed with yourself, it’s not easy to be a human and a washing machine at the same time.
Now, continuing with your analysis: if they’re not white, then they’re probably not gay or lesbian. Just take a look at Legally Blonde, Modern Family, Glee, Orange is the New Black, Girls, Easy A, and the list of films and tv shows with homosexual side characters go on. All the gay and lesbian characters are white. So, if you’re someone of colour, how can you possibly be gay or lesbian? Don’t be too caught up in diversity; remember that every characteristic of a person is an obvious hint to the mystery of squeezing them into a category of gender, ethnicity or sexuality.
The last rule to successfully identifying a gay or lesbian is if they don’t have hair dyed in the colours of the rainbow and have a ‘marriage equality’ sign permanently stapled to the palm of their hand, then they’re probably not gay or lesbian. They may be bi, pan or queer*, but not homosexual. If Hollywood says that sexuality is a gay man or a lesbian woman’s defining characteristic, then it is.
Unlike their heterosexual peers who come from diverse backgrounds and have a plethora of personal interests intricately woven into the fabric of their lives, the life of a homosexual will revolve around their sexuality. According to Hollywood, it will run something like this – you’ll spend the first several years of your life struggling to realise that you’re not straight, and then the next few years coming out and waiting for people to accept your ‘new’ identity (that was never really new). Then, you’ll spend the rest of your life doing something that revolves around being a homosexual. Because, god forbid that, homosexuality is not the only aspect of your vibrant identity as a gay or lesbian. So, if you know someone whose life sounds a little like this, then they’re probably gay or lesbian.
You know you can be sure that someone’s a homosexual when they fit all of these descriptions. It’s not like any three-dimensional person could fit into your one-dimensional description of a gay or lesbian. After all, they are a minority, so it’s pretty uncommon to see one around. The only reasonable thing to do is to assume everyone is straight until they perfectly fit this description. Don’t acknowledge that people can have other qualities and interests outside of your understanding of them. It’s too much for the brain to handle on top of having to figure out what you’re going to do with the rest of your life after university.
When you are concluding your final analysis, be sure to present yourself as a hero. Without your wisdom, how would the rest of us be able to identify those of us who are gay and lesbian from those who are not, end world poverty, eradicate all human rights abuses and prevent our globally warming planet from descending into chaos? The rest of the world is thanking you for your insightful analysis, so don’t be afraid to show it off to the next person you meet.
Think your name would look good in print? Woroni is always open for submissions from ANU students. Email email@example.com with a pitch or draft. You can find more info on submitting here.
I’m not one to idolise the Hollywood world, but Natalie Portman is an exception. At Harvard University, she co-authored two research articles as a student of psychology. As an artist, she won an Academy Award for her acting efforts, and recently wrote, directed and starred in a Hebrew-language film. She is also an animal rights activist and a mother. It’s inspiring to look at someone who has accomplished so much, but more so, I respect any celebrity who manages to maintain a degree of privacy for themselves and their family. I look up to Ms Portman as a feminist, and a testament to feminine strength, audacity, composure and excellence.
My idol is my dad. Losing his mother at the age of two and coming from a very low socioeconomic situation, Dad has had harder times than most. Playing in the Victorian Football League for teams such as Fitzroy and North Melbourne, he has skill and determination. Heading up a division of over 100 people at CBA he notably cared for their prospects. Yet, through all his adversity and accomplishments, he has remained humble, hilarious and loving. He sees the world with a level head, without gender binaries, and with respect for all people. The youngest of four – just as am I – he has shown me the littlest can roar. How lucky am I.
My icon is Leandra Medine. To me, Leandra Medine, the founder of Man Repeller, represents smart, forward thinking businesswomen, who in every respect have maintained their femininity under their own pretence. I first came across Medine in an article discussing why she didn’t wear makeup. It is not to make a statement, or to “act like the most extreme, hyper-literal and violent version of a man repeller”, but simply because she is too lazy, too busy, and most importantly, does not feel the need. She is comfortable in her own skin and capabilities. To me this is iconic, and is just one example of how she is a role model for young women who want to make their mark on the world, but are afraid of losing themselves in the process.
The Samsung scream emoji, as a visual representation of the world we live in, speaks more truth than any politician, activist or even artist would dare to. Let’s be clear, I’m talking about the one with the ghost coming out of their mouth (unique to the Samsung keyboards) here. Don’t bother me with that crass iOS shit. For me, this emoji is both a symbol of resistance to those who might oppress us, and an acknowledgement that sometimes these enemies will get the better of us. It is strength in weakness. In a world full of problematic faves, I am proud to call the Samsung scream emoji my least problematic.
Invite ten of the richest living musicians for dinner, and I’d shove aside my plate to share one pipe with Ludwig van Beethoven. In person, Beethoven was rude, unpredictable and strangely reserved. He was also a gifted composer robbed of his own hearing, a radical political idealist disillusioned by Napoleon, and a private romantic whose longings were constantly tortured by class differences. The famous “miracle” of the Ninth Symphony is that a deaf man composed it. I think the real miracle is that a character so downtrodden by the final years of his life would craft something so divine, beautiful and overflowing with love and promise for humankind. Beethoven will long outlive Napoleon, but I’m sure he knows that.
Excluding family, the icon which has had the greatest influence in my life would have to be David Pocock. He has utilised his status as an Australian sporting great to promote positive social change. He has redefined the boundaries within which sporting icons can promote change with their popularity.
My icon is Stanley the Sausage Dog.* The only thing I ever have on my mind, is why doesn’t Stanley have a show on cartoon network. In this imaginative world, Stanley would live and interact with a number of characters in the house – like the pet fish, the plants, other miscellaneous inanimate objects, but none of the humans in the house will ever acknowledge their sentience. So Stanley the Sausage would deal with all manner of moral dilemmas.
*Editor’s Note: follow Stanley on Instagram @stanley.thesausage
There are two people from history who are my icons. The first has no name, but was a 9th century Irish monk who copied Bibles in a beautiful hand. He demonstrated skill, dexterity and some knowledge of Latin. However, in the margins, he wrote in his native language of Ogham, ‘hung-over’. The second was Hegelochus, the original Orestes in a Euripides play. Before the time of social media he mispronounced his Attic Greek and said ‘weasel’ instead of ‘calm’. He never lived it down, comedic playwrights made fun of him years after. These two men are my icons, as they are remembered for being so very human.
I’m not very good at picking idols. Every so often, I fall in love with a public figure, only to shortly fall violently out. Humans seem to have an almost artful knack of completely fucking up the good impressions you have of them. I loved Anthony Kiedis until it became clear that his taste for girlfriends between the ages of 17 and 23 wasn’t limited to an acceptable period during his youth. I appreciated Lena Dunham’s work until it was impossible to overlook her perpetual ignorance of racial and class issues. David Bowie? Again with the underage girlfriend problems. Beyonce? For all her girls-running-the-world ideations, her Ivy Park garments are made by sweatshop workers who definitely aren’t feeling those vibes. It seems impossible to find a powerful figure who doesn’t have an equally powerful dark side. Which is why, these days, I lean away from pedestals. As Roxane Gay says, “People who are placed on pedestals are expected to pose, perfectly”, and the truth is that pretty much nobody does. Instead, I look for the values I’ve idolised in people in the past in my friends. I admire radical honesty in one close friend, wild creativity in another; the impressive getting-shit-done aura of several powerful women I know; the resilience and grace of my best friend since childhood; and the insight and wit of my partner. Rather than imagining that there are flawless people out there to idolise, I’m starting to feel like it’s more powerful to celebrate the qualities of ourselves and the other flawed people we know.
Photo credit: Nozomi Morgan
Comments Off on Violence and the Sacred: Reflections on Afghanistan and Syria
My doctoral research looks at sacred places in Afghanistan, and how places become iconic, blessed, or meaningful for those who inhabit them. I get to study some intriguing things: a mulberry tree with goat skulls attached to its branches, and thousands of nails hammered into its trunk; the resting place of a famous hashish smoker; the grave of a princess, which people secretly visit to write graffiti to loved ones.I also study the opposite, places we might consider “cursed”: the ruins of a Buddhist monastery; the shells of houses destroyed in war, with collapsed roofs and walls riddled with bullet holes; a grave where a jinn, a mythical being made out of fire, is buried; a desert which blooms with wild tulips in the spring, but whose sands are sometimes blown away to reveal mass graves.I was recently talking to a friend in Afghanistan about my research interests. “People are dying of starvation over here,” she said, “and you’re wasting your time studying shrines?” I had no answer for her, and had to go away and think about it, rationalising it to myself. How could I justify such a niche research interest, with no immediate way to relieve social injustice, when such terrible things are occurring in the world?But there is a strange relationship between suffering, violence, conflict, and sacred places. Places of worship are often targets for attack: they’re often symbolic of an old order, and taking control of them can symbolise taking power over an entire region. They are prone to attack by one’s enemies, and often defiled and desecrated. Think of the Bamiyan Buddhas, or the Assyrian artefacts of Nineveh. But they’re rarely forgotten. After conflict, they’re often built over, layer by layer, like the Temple Mount in Jerusalem, or the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul.I visited Syria in early 2011, before the war. The Syria that I saw was beautiful, vibrant, and peaceful. I remember storytellers captivating listeners at coffee shops, and shoppers bargaining over clothes in Ottoman-era bazaars. I saw archaeologists dust away ancient bones and sherds of pottery on hilltop ruins, and religious students tiptoe barefoot through the spotless courtyards of medieval mosques. I sat drinking pomegranate juice in the morning sun at my favourite café in the shade of the walls of Damascus’ old city.I’ve always been drawn to these kind of places. Perhaps one of my favourite memories of Syria was a day spent walking through the majestic ruins of Palmyra (which had flourished in the third century). I imagined caravans of camels and traders making their way through the desert, and embassies visiting from far-off lands. I was oblivious to the fact that, barely a few kilometres from where I walked, political prisoners languished in one of Assad’s most notorious prisons. I was equally oblivious to the future of these ruins – that they’d be destroyed once again, that the impressive temples beneath where I walked would be reduced to dust.It’s difficult to imagine the devastation of war from watching the news. You have to see its effects, and to talk to people who survived it, to really appreciate how tragic it is. I haven’t revisited Syria since the war began, but I have been to Afghanistan several times post-war, and have often found it difficult to believe my own eyes: walls scarred by bullet holes; rusted ammunition casings; razor wire; entire villages turned to dust; graveyards that continue endlessly through the landscape, dotted with green flags to mark the burial place of a martyr. War doesn’t end when people put their guns down. The poverty in Afghanistan is surreal, and has to be seen to be believed. When I first landed in Kabul I was shocked to see widows on the street, with sunburned children laying over cardboard in front of them; little girls begging for money in the middle of chaotic and polluted intersections; teenagers with hollow faces and empty eyes, as if they had been robbed of their soul, collecting cans from the gutter to buy heroin. This is painful to watch, and painful to be around. It is painful to feel powerless to change it.This poverty and suffering will, unfortunately, be the fate of Syria that I’ll confront if I’m able to visit again. I’ll walk into an Aleppo lying in ashes. Many former residents will return, confronted by the ruins of war and sites of violence. They’ll rebuild broken homes and shattered businesses. Those old enough to remember will have a tough time reconciling this reality with the paradisiacal Syria in which they grew up. They’ll tell stories and dream of better times.When this happens, how will they confront the places of their past they once considered blessed and sacred? Medieval mosques, mountaintop monasteries, and Sufi shrines have been reduced to crumbling brick and rubble. Their walls are riddled with bullets and partisan graffiti. Unspeakable atrocities have been committed in these places of prayer. I don’t think they’ll be forgotten. Like in Afghanistan, they’ll probably be rebuilt. Martyrs from the recent war will become part of the sacred landscape, and stories of violence will be remembered and passed on to the next generation. And if possible, I’ll be there to make pilgrimage to the places I love so much.
Photo credit: IBT
Sidney Nolan’s Ned Kelly Series – on display at the National Gallery here in Canberra – is about as Australian as you can get. Of the 25 large paintings in the series, the most iconic is of Ned Kelly statuesquely positioned on his horse, with the great Australian outback in the background.
The word ‘icon’ traditionally has two meanings: the religious icons that used to be sold in shops, pictures of religious martyrs and little statues of saints that were pedaled for entry into the other promised worlds; and the tall statues of victorious, muscly Greek gods.
Nolan’s ‘Ned Kelly’ (1946) features the notorious hero sitting, helmeted, high on horseback. The painting represents a symbol of Australian martyrdom, as Kelly was executed by hanging for his crimes, and also depicts a powerful god-like being, towering over his environment. Perhaps this does not exactly reflect the more traditional icons, but Kelly’s status is iconic just the same.
Walking through the collection at the gallery is a little like walking reverently around the interior of a Catholic church, stopping before each station of the cross. Each stop depicts a scene from the dramatic end of Kelly’s career as a bushranger, as he railed against injustice and the wrong doings that the petty English bureaucracy inflicted on the poor Irish of the time. With one graphic scene after another – from the police shooting at Stringybark Creek and the slimy pitiful police officer making a pass at Kelly’s sister, to the siege at Jerilderie and the final courtroom scene where Kelly curses the judge – each strengthens Kelly’s mythological status, as well as solidifying the iconic status of the artwork.
Kelly has long been an icon. He was the subject of the world’s first motion feature film – ‘The Story of the Kelly Gang, made in Australia 1906 – and two classic Australian novels: Robert Drewe’s ‘Our sunshine’, and Peter Carey’s ‘The True history of the Kelly Gang’. Sidney Nolan painted his series in 1946, nearly a century after Ned Kelly’s death, and though there are countless Kelly inspired documentaries, biographies, re-enactments and even bumper stickers in existence, when Australians reference Ned Kelly, it is largely Nolan’s iconography that comes to mind.
If Kelly, high on his horse, has become our icon, then Nolan’s work elevates this status by creating a mythological figure by creating a painting equivalent the immense statues of Christ or Buddha that tower over people around the world. We look up at Kelly. His figure dominates the canvas. His black metal helmet with the rectangle slot shows his strength and vision – though significantly we do not see Kelly’s eyes looking back at us, but rather, but the bushland beyond, making him part of the landscape and its timelessness.
On the day I visited the Kelly exhibition I was filled with awe and excitement – it was the first time I had seen the paintings in person. There seemed to be more paintings than 25, as they were displayed in a circular row – a 360-degree panorama – of narrative art. I was filled with curiosity. How do other people view the works? The Kelly story is controversial, so is it right to see a convicted, police-murdering thief as a hero? Is he a cultural icon for everyone? How relevant are these paintings to us today?
I watched as people moved around the works in a reverent, orderly fashion. Beside each painting was a plaque, hosting pieces of text from the 1881 Royal Commission into the police conduct during the hunt for Kelly and his band of outlaws. Each visitor paused at each plaque, absorbing the information before moving on to the next. There was a dynamism of movement. It was like a lively dance.
But our idea of Kelly is fiction. Even Nolan, painting seventy years or so after Kelly’s death, knew that he was bringing to life the stories that fed the myth. So why did Australians’ embrace the Kelly story so readily from the beginning?
Kelly’s story grew out of the early dispossession of land. He represents; the infighting of the blended invading nations under the banner of the British Empire; the tensions between the poor Irish and the ruling class, as well as the rich and the poor more generally, especially to the final years of the gold rush; and, the vulnerability of single parent families, and even the strength of women as single parents and their mistreatment at the hands of predatory police. In our imagination he is positioned solidly in the country, instead of the city, or in our own reality. Kelly symbolises the ability for the ordinary person to break through and fight back. Perhaps we choose Kelly again and again because it allows us to stand up for our own aspirations, and to rise above those suppressing us.
This makes me think about our icons. Somewhere under all of our perceptions, all of our own interpretations, is the real person – but the icon we revere is far, far from this person. The iconic work in the gallery uses Kelly’s myth to draw a long bow and shoot our imagination through to a different reality. That’s the role of the artist.
Our need for icons perhaps replaces traditionally orthodox religious needs, for more modern secular ones. We have always needed a hero. One who does not to come from the ruling class, but who was an underdog, who was one of ‘us’.
Emojis: the icons of our generation. They express the complex emotions (winky face), concepts (suggestive eggplant), and situations (dancing red-dress lady) that written words alone simply cannot convey. What writing lacks in the way of hand gestures and facial expressions, the emoji goes a long way in making up for – so much so, in fact, that the “Face with Tears of Joy” emoji was the “Oxford Dictionaries Word of the Year 2015”.
However, there is more to these adorable little pictographs than meets the eye.
Given that emojis are so tied up with written language, it is perhaps unsurprising that they’ve developed their own grammatical patterns. Linguist Tyler Schnoebelen wrote an entire chapter on emoji grammar for his Stanford University doctoral thesis back in 2012. What he found is that people tend to use emojis in similar ways, despite the fact that there’s technically nothing stopping anyone from using them however they want to.
Firstly, emojis tend to supplement written text, rather than replace it, and come at the end of thoughts rather than in the middle. Thus we have “hey cutie ;)” not “hey ? cutie” and “I love you <3” not “I love <3 you”. Secondly, angry tweets and tweets with the phrase “f*ck you” tend to be emoji-less, indicating that something about emojis is incompatible with genuine rage. Thirdly, feeling or “stance” emojis come before other emojis – people weep and then have broken hearts, rather than having broken hearts and then weeping.
So with all these grammar rules, can emojis take on a linguistic life of their own?
According to Professor Vyv Evans at Bangor University, emojis are the “fastest growing form of language in history.” However, linguist Neil Cohl of the University of California argues that it’s unlikely that emojis have the flexibility required to become a genuine language. The ambiguity of the symbols works both for and against them on this front. On the one hand, the ambiguous characters are able to express almost anything you want them to. Are the hands pressed together clapping or praying? Answer – whatever you want! This poses problems, however, if you want to tell an emoji story wherein which you are both clapping and praying.
On the other hand, adding more and more precise emojis – like Apple is currently doing – makes the process too unwieldy. Emoji users are no longer able to recall the emojis from memory, but instead have to spend precious seconds scrolling through the list to see what is available. The fact that users also have no control over the creation of new emojis is a big drawback. It seems that, for the time being at least, emojis are restricted to supplementing written language.
What is clear, however, is that emojis aren’t going away anytime soon. Though emojis can’t quite do the job of a face-to-face conversation, they go a long way to bridging the gap between written word and speech, and with so much of our daily interactions taking place online, this bridge is indispensable. The suggestive eggplant and the dancing red-dress lady are here to stay.