"Impostor Syndrome"? WTF?

Lingo, Slang, & Jargon

Aug 07, 2026

No matter what generation, no matter what language, I imagine there’s always a cauldron of pop language in every contemporary culture.

Slang, baby.

I did a little AI research into American slang of the early 20th century - just for fun:

1920s: “Bee’s knees”: outstanding person or thing. “Blotto”: extremely drunk. “Cat’s meow”: splendid or stylish. “Dapper”: very stylish in dress. “Doll”: an attractive woman. “Ducky”: charming or delightful. “Gams”: legs, especially a woman’s. “Giggle water”: alcoholic beverage. “Heebie-jeebies”: anxiety or fear. “Scram”: get lost. “Speakeasy”: illicit bar or nightclub selling alcoholic beverages during Prohibition. “Whoopee”: have a good time or celebrate boisterously. Or better yet, Ray Charles’ “Making Whoopee”: take a guess.

1930s: “All wet”: completely wrong. “Big House”: prison. “Cat”: cool person, often a jazz enthusiast. “Crumb”: a despicable person. “Dish”: attractive woman. “G-man”: FBI agent. “Hard-boiled”: tough or unemotional. “Hooey”: nonsense. “Moxie”: courage or nerve. “Patsy”: scapegoat or someone who is easily duped. “Ritzy”: elegant or fancy. “Socko”: Impressive or powerful. “Broke”: having no money or being completely out of cash.

1940s: “A-1”: excellent or first-class. “Big cheese”: important person. “Blockbuster”: a huge success, originally a large bomb used in the war. “Bombshell”: extremely attractive woman. “Bum rap”: false accusation. “Chicken”: cowardly. “Crummy”: bad, of poor quality. “Ducky”: great or fine. “Flip your wig”: lose control. “Gobbledygook”: meaningless or hard to understand. “Jive”: Popular slang or talk related to jazz culture. “Killer-diller”: excellent or impressive. “Lush”: habitual consumer of alcohol. “Pad”: a place to live. “Peepers”: eyes. “Slick”: smooth or impressive. “GI Joe”: American soldier in WW2.

1950s & 60s: “Backseat bingo”: making out in a car. “Cruisin’ for a bruisin’”: looking for trouble. “Daddy-O”: term of address, similar to “man” or “dude”. “Decked out”: dressed up. “Dig”: understand or appreciate with zest. “Hip”: cool or stylish. “Knuckle sandwich”: punch in the face. “Necking”: kissing and making out. “Threads”: clothes. “Rock ‘n roll”: the new music.

“Bogart”: To hog something, usually a joint. “Bread”: money. “Far out”: amazing or cool. “Pigs” or “Fuzz”: the police. “Groovy”: cool or fantastic. “Hang loose”: relax and take it easy. “Hippie”: person of the counterculture, embracing peace and love. “Lay it on me”: tell me or give me the details. “Mellow”: relaxed and calm. “Outta sight”: excellent or impressive. “Peace out”: goodbye. “Righteous”: excellent or genuine. “Split”: to leave. “Trip”: drug-induced experience or a strange situation.

I could keep going, but you get the point, si?

Then of course, there is the hippest slang word of every generation. Just plain:

Cool.

I dig slang.

Pop language. Contempo-speak.

But… what I definitely don’t dig is… pop psychology “jargon”.

As in:

“Hysteria”: an old diagnosis for wild emotional behavior, dropped in the 1950s and split into other conditions. “Manic-depressive”: the older 1950s term for what we now call bipolar disorder. “Conditioning”: popularized by behaviorists studying how rewards and punishments shape action. “Cognitive dissonance”: introduced in 1957 to describe the stress of holding two opposite thoughts at once. “Bipolar disorder”: replaced manic-depressive illness in official manuals by 1980. “Chemical imbalance”: a popular way to explain depression using brain chemistry. “ADHD/Autism spectrum”: broader, refined diagnostic labels that replaced older generalized terms. “Evidence-based”: a shift toward treatments proven by strict scientific tests. “Gaslighting”: a clinical term for manipulation that has become common internet jargon. “Trauma”: now often used broadly for any bad event, extreme physical or mental shock. “Boundaries”: a rule-setting term now used widely in daily social life. “Toxic”: said to describe unhealthy traits in people, jobs, or environments.

I’m sure you have your own favorites or… most hated.

Me? Who knows?

Maybe it’s because I was a clinical psych major in college before I “turned on, tuned in, and dropped out”.

But these pop psychology phrases, these lingo-jingo-jango “terms that have become common internet jargon”… just… press my buttons.

They seem so… un-coooool!

So… clinical. So generalized. So… facile if not false. So politically correct. So news report-worthy. So… convenient - to describe - the imperfect and contradictory human condition, rather than the wonder and complexity of the ineffable human spirit.

They make me close my eyes and ears, and retreat into my own navel-gazing burrow.

My current phrase of rage is “impostor syndrome”.

Everybody’s doing it. Talking about it. Avoiding it.

I’m an impostor. A fake. Not who I seem to be. If anyone digs deep enough, if I reveal enough of myself, if the truth be known… I’m a goddam… impostor!

WTF?

Am I not/was I not, a university professor in LA for more than 30 years? A modern dancer? A professional clown?

Do I not have such and such in my bank account? Was I not married for 24 years? Aren’t I still Dad after 11?

Was I not born in Queens Hospital, grow up in Levittown and Westbury, Long Island? Did I not go to college in Buffalo, New York for four interminable years, live in Om Zig loft on the Bowery and Kenmare in the Big Apple’s Skid Row in 1970?

Did I not dance in Shirley Mordine’s “Dance Troupe” from 1970-74, co-found and co-direct MoMing until 1977, move back to NYC and live in the Hotel Woodward on 55th & Broadway, run for Mayor of NYC as a clown in 1977, found NYC’s Resident Clown Troupe, and own a loft on 23rd and Park Avenue South for four years?

Did I “impost” any or all of these things?

No, I don’t think so.

In fact, I’m pretty sure that I, in fact, did every damn one of them.

Why should I call myself or think of myself as “an impostor”?

I just don’t get it.

Am I not worthy of my name? Of my reputation? Of my deeds, my actions, my crimes, misdemeanors, accomplishments, failures, and successes?

Then again…

If you could live and dream my dreams…

You would surely find yourself on the left side of that crumbling cliff above.

Almost always… reliving my mistakes, my departures, my lack of courage… to put it Clint’s way… my “unforgivens”.

Sure, some of you say,

You’re living life large. You’re seeing the world. I’m so envious.

And ok, I see what you see.

But that doesn’t make the inner Trules any braver, any more confident, any less forgiving of his past.

Yet…. it also doesn’t make me - inauthentic.

An “impostor”.

It might make me narcissistic. Self-absorbed. Mediocre. A legend only in my own mind.

Who’s to say?

My dreams are dark. My days are light.

I shouldn’t complain.

No one likes a complainer.

Nor do I.

So…. I’ll leave it at that.

Although…… if ever I could name an impostor…

Do you know who it would be?

I’m sure you do.

Yep!

Our orange-skinned, malignant Narcissist-in-Chief. The man who will lie, cheat, and deceive himself right into the lowest level of Hades itself. (Haha, I just saw “The Odyssey”.)

I need not mention his name.

Because the man has, indeed, no “syndrome” at all.

He’s the real deal!

An actual…

Impostor.

Until next time…

Trules, awake

PS. Here’s the link to a Guest Post I wrote on my friend, Arthur Hoyle’s, Substack, “Off the Cuff”. It’s called A View of America from a Traveling U.S. Expat. Let me know what you think.

Eric Trules' Substack

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