The metric system never caught on in America because the English language is based on the SI unit which would make much of our language meaningless.
What fun is it if a girl's skirt can no longer inch up on its own?
There would be no more pussyfootin around.
No more inchworm.
Spouses who haven't quite made up their mind, still on the cusp will have to go through with marriage anyway now, since cold feet would no longer be possible.
Without SI how can one ever learn to tie his shoes, no longer able to put a foot in a shoe?
Children would become unruly, parents no longer able to put a foot in an ass.
If you're fatally sick in the metric system you can no longer fight for your life, when you have just one foot in the grave.
White people usually find that they are much better dancers if they convert to metric, no longer busting a move with two left feet.
Again, in a war, metric sucks. Without SI, where would that leave . . .
The thrill of victory and the agony of the feet.
The metric system would kill the NFL. No more 4th down goal to goal and inches.
Poetry and music screws 'em all up.
FootDefinition:
No toes, no shoes, no soles. In literary circles, this term refers to the most basic unit of a poem's meter.
A foot is a combination of stressed and unstressed syllables. There are all kinds of feet in poetry, and they all sound different, so we'll give you a handy list. If you want to be the nerdiest nerd in the nerd herd, you should memorize it:
- Iamb: daDUM
- Trochee: DUMda
- Spondee: DUMDUM
- Anapest: dadaDUM
- Dactyl: DUMdada
- Amphibrach: daDUMda
- Pyrrhic: dada
A combination of feet makes up a line of meter. So, for example, the most common meter in English poetry is iambic pentameter, which contains five (that's where that "pent-" comes from) iambs, all in a row.
Finding your feet can be as tricky as learning the Viennese waltz, but that's the main task of scansion, a fancy term for analyzing a poem's meter. Just remember the list above, and read aloud, read read aloud.