- by Owen Morton
I like shouting, as most people might have deduced from the above title. However, if you know me (which I suspect most people reading this website do), I believe you will know that I in fact do not like shouting, that in true actuality I am one of the quietest and sweetest people you could ever come across. The notion of shouting does not come readily to my nature, and consequently I do not really like shouting.
The fact remains, however, that for a client I have been asked to write a little treatise on the subject of my enjoyment of shouting as an occupation. Therefore, to keep the wolf from the door (this is a metaphor) I now find myself in the unenviable position of having to write a document about my enjoyment of shouting when in fact I derive not the slightest enjoyment from this abhorrent behaviour.
So, how do I begin? Well, I suppose the best thing would be to discuss the many benefits to be gained by shouting. Of course, this will depend on what manner of shouting you are indulging in. Personally, I like shouting at people (I don’t really, I just have to say this so I’ll get paid by my client), because I consider that solitary shouting is just that little bit too far down the road to insanity. But if you like solitary shouting, then that’s really up to you, I’d say.
The benefits of solitary shouting are not many. I read a Star Trek book once many years ago where there was a character called Russ who went off into the woods every few weeks and “shouted himself hoarse”, as I believe the book put it. The implication in the book was that this was a good thing (for many reasons, which I can remember but it’s honestly not worth going into, believe me), but I remember thinking that Russ was a right loony. If I were walking through the woods and was suddenly accosted by a stupid man who shouted himself hoarse, I’d run a mile and call the police.
I don’t know what Russ thought he was achieving by his solitary shouting. Shouting at people is so much more productive. I was walking across campus today when I saw two girls standing next to each other. They were clearly in the middle of a conversation when I came into earshot, since one said, “You went again? But I wanted to go!” and the other instantly – without much provocation as far as I could see – shouted, “Fuck off, I’m not your boyfriend!” You see what that achieved? Because I don’t. But it’s still a bit more intelligent than solitary shouting, wouldn’t you agree?
Some people think that if you shout at people, you make them do things. This is true in certain circumstances, but not in others. For example, if you shout at a child when it’s misbehaved in school, it’s relatively likely that it won’t do whatever it was again. On the other hand, if I were to stand up now and shout at the people in the computer room, ordering them to do my essay about Froissart, then chances are nothing would be achieved, except possibly my removal from the computer room on the basis that I’m a bit of a nutcase.
All the same, shouting does have some vague benefits. The problem is, I don’t know them and moreover, I can’t be bothered to try and find out. So I will leave you now with this picture of a shouting hippopotamus.