I’ve previously established that I’m a terrible diction student. Not because I lack the ability to speak well, but rather due to the ridiculous poses I’m forced to perform in the class I’m taking (yoga/diction). I imagine the only time anyone would ever assume these positions in normal life would be during a visit to a gynecologist or while getting a “Brazilian wax.”
To make matters worse, the silly exercises don’t end with these yoga-inspired poses.
This was my assignment for today’s class: Pretend you are running for election in the kingdom of Omnia (where everyone speaks Omnish, a language that’s basically gibberish). Speaking in the native language, stand before the class and, a) open your speech with a joke, b) discredit the slanderous remarks your opponent has made about you, c) offer a rousing tribute to the current King, d) state your platform objectives, and, e) close with a big finish.
I decided to have fun and just let myself run with it—as there was seemingly no escape other than to drop the course. This was the perfect opportunity to display my disdain for the exercises we’d been doing. Because I’d be speaking mumbo-jumbo, I could pretty much say ANYTHING I wanted. Often our instructor makes us recite such intelligent phrases as “buttigah guttibah tuggibah.” It’s like an Omnish tongue-twister, I suppose. Because I can’t ever seem to get the syllables in the right order, this makes me crazy. So I made the punch line to my joke be “buttigah!” Then I did my tribute to the almighty king of Omnia (the instructor) and bent over and mooned the class (only I kept my pants up). This was SO therapeutic!
My closing remarks and stance paid homage to Richard Nixon’s era. It seemed the victory sign was in order. I’m sure glad this class isn’t COMPLETELY like elementary school. You know I’d hate to fail citizenship.