New Year's Resolutions

I resolve to no longer cringe (outwardly) at the misuse of "there's".

It is a lost cause; "there's" is now defined as "there exists one or more". "There are" is still a valid construction, of course, but will soon be marked as "archaic".

I resolve to no longer correct "John and me" in the nominative case, or "John and I" in the accusative or dative cases.

It's too hard to remember "I" versus "me", so we'll just allow either, whichever sounds "better" at the time. I will, however, continue to rally against "me and John", because etiquette dictates you name the other party first. And if I ever hear "I and John", well, I cannot be held responsible for my actions.

I resolve to blog more often.

No matter what excuse I might give, there's really no excuse to not point out the obvious failings of others (hey, I didn't resolve to be nice this year), so I shall strive to post more often. I'm already ahead of 2008, where I didn't post a single thing...

Happy 2009, readers!

A (n)ever-changing language?

I haven't blogged for a while... does that mean that the language has stopped annoying me? No, I'd rather that be the case, but the reason is really a mix of lack-of-time and that the old standby issues with the language are still there, working their way into accepted usage.

Still in the top four:

There's versus there are. This is so prevalent these days, it won't be long before "there's" becomes its own word, correctly used in either instance. An oft-played commercial has a little girl saying "there's peas in my cake" or something to that effect. Sure, the error might be there to keep the illusion that the child is speaking naturally, but I'm inclined to believe that the writer probably wrote it that way without knowing better.

less versus fewer. This is gaining ground, soon to surpass the "there's" issue, I'm sure. I've become so tuned to the sound of either of these words that I cringe every time I hear either of them, audibly sighing in relief when it turns out it was used correctly. As expected, I don't sigh that much.

should of versus should've. Either I've become dulled to this one, or people are smartening up. Since we then agree that I've become dulled to it, it needs to get nipped in the bud, along with it's cousins "could of" and "would of". The worst case is the negative, "shouldn't of": nothing but ignorance can explain that one away.

loan versus lend. Until the OED lists "lend" as an archaic word, I am going to dispute the use of "loan" as a verb.


There's a new one out there, though, that seems to be gaining ground. It's all in the pronunciaton here, no misheard words or inappropriate usage. It started in what is horridly called AAVE, or African-American Vernacular English, in the linguistics community, but perhaps more commonly Ebonics. The first case I noticed was with the word "didn't".

Put on your best black woman attitude, with the head rocking side to side, and say "Oh no you didn't!" If you got what I was talking about, you said "Oh no you dih-int". That middle "d" got lost, and an extra "i" got inserted. This has been around for years, and allowing for "vernacular English", I've got no problem with it, just like I don't have a problem with "ax me a question", also in AAVE, or "youse guys" out East in Canada. They're regional differences.

But when the pronunciation "escapes" its demographic, I have a problem. This isn't just a case of some teen trying to emulate their rapper idol's speech, this is a real change in the way this word is being pronounced. Not convinced? The more recent word to go through this change is what really got me going. From numerous speakers lately, I've heard the word "important" pronounced "impore-int". Again, that sound in the middle is being dropped. If you try saying "impore-int", you're probably not quite getting the right sound, because in both "dih-int" and "impore-int", there's what's known as a glottal stop, a consonant-like sound that helps separate the two vowels that have been left. This glottal stop has replaced the middle "d" in "didn't" and the middle "t" in "important".

But why? I know that a lot of sound changes happen in language to make pronunciation simpler, but I don't see the difficulty in either of these words. Yes, people have been slurring "important" for years as "importnt", with what's known as a "syllablic n", and perhaps it is this form that has now become difficult to say, and has been changed to "impor?nt" (the question mark is similar to the IPA symbol for the glottal stop).

I'd like to stress that every instance of "impor?nt" I've heard has come from someone that you would not classify into a different "vernacular English". So why have they changed these words? Are others soon to come? Will we get our accoun?nt to do our taxes? Will the comba?nts in Iraq use bla?nt tactics again the resis?nt rebels? Will I feel repen?nt for the pollu?nts I've released in the atmosphere?

When I go camping, will I pitch my ?nt ?

Distractional things

djw and I have discussed the tendency for people to keep talking -- that is, to never stop making noise while their brain tries to catch up to their mouths, or while they're still deciding if they have anything else to say.

"Uh" and "uhm" are the most common cases of this, something that you can hear almost anywhere, if you listen for it. I would say that you have to listen for it now, because we're so used to people saying it. I'm sure that, even though I'm conscious of the practice (and thus this blog entry), I probably don't «hear» them from day-to-day people. Professional speakers, however, are another matter. The traffic helicopter guy on the local radio station is bad for it. The funny-looking kid on the cable technology channel is even worse. As I've ranted before, I think professionals (whatever that means these days, as everyone can be in media) should have a better grasp of their language.

But these aren't the only ones. The younger generation has, like, their own words that they, like, use to fill in their sentences. And, you know, they do seem to grow out of them, but like, I still hear university students, you know, still use them.

I'd almost say that everyone has their quirks, their little expressions that have no place in their sentences, but seem to end up at the start, or at the end, of somewhere nestled in the middle. They have no purpose, in my opinion, but to make people sound like they have a lot more to say.

djw and I came up with a term for words and phrases like this: distractionals. A distractional's purpose is to distract you from the fact that the person didn't have anything to say for that moment, or that they don't know how to start or end a sentence correctly.

A few more examples, if I may:

The earliest case I can recall is my grade 10 Social Studies teacher, who liked to tack on "roughly speaking" to the end of nearly any statement made. It got to the point where a few of us kept tallies on our desks of the number of times in a single period he would say it. By the end of the semester, we had that whole desk covered, roughly speaking.



When discussing or debating a topic, my wife will, when looking to introduce her own point-of-view, will open with "You know what? My thing is..." For instance: "You know what? My thing is is that I don't think that squirrels should be able to vote before their eighteen." But usually not so silly.



People who repeat the question as the start of their answer are using distractionals. Granted, this is an expected and accepted action when writing an essay, or perhaps in formal writing, but doesn't belong in everyday speech. For example:

"Do you have your Air Miles card?"
"Do I have my Air Miles card? Yes, I do."

That commercial drives me crazy. Okay, okay, you could argue that we had just returned from a flashback in the woman's head about all the luxuries of the Air Miles card, and that we had to be reminded about the original question. But it's not an isolated incident. Even cases where the question is not directly repeated are common:

"What's your favorite lunch at McDonald's?"
"My favorite lunch at McDonald's is a Big Mac."

The answerer could have said simply, "A Big Mac."



Repetition. It can certainly be used for effect, to hammer in a point:

"Daily exercise makes you feel better. Daily exercise helps to increase muscles. Daily exercise helps to burn off calories. Daily exercise makes you look great!"

The above could have been said or written as a list ("Daily exercise makes you feel better, helps to increase muscles, helps to burn off calories, and makes you look great!") but the repetition is useful to hammer home the point of daily exercise. And I have no problem with that.

It's when people repeat the same start to subsequent sentences where the repeated part is not the point at all. It's unfortunate I can't remember the example, which is in a commercial by Kevin Trudeau, promoting his book (some self-help book I believe), on the same cable channel with the uhm-kid. During his spiel, he repeats the same seven or eight words at the start of every sentence, but they're not the important ones, and it just makes him look like he's trying to fill a one-hour talk with ten minutes of content.



In two different cases in a week, I hear people use "kinda thing" or "sorta thing". I can see the use of such a phrase in some instances ("he did a Sean Connery kinda thing", "I saw a robot sorta thing"), and that's fine. Here, the speaker or writer is casually saying that something is sorta-kinda like another.

But the way I'm hearing it lately doesn't fit into that reasoning.

"Then I backed into the parking spot sorta thing."
"She asked me yesterday for my driver's license kinda thing."

There's no "sorta" or "kinda" -- it's exactly what the speaker is saying! What's worse is that after I started noticing it (on radio, on T.V., from passers-by), I noticed that a friend of ours does it all the time. I'm not sure if this is a new phrase, picked up from today's media, or something I've missed all this time.

---

I don't think everyone uses distractionals (except perhaps the occasional "uhm"), but it's becoming more obvious from those that do. When I explain the concept of distractionals to people, they invariably ask whether they have one, and I believe that they really don't realize they're using them. I don't know that they're necessarily bad, unless it gets to the point where your listener is so aware of them that they can count them (and look forward to it!) as with my Social teacher.

I think that's enough for now. I meant to also go on about the use of "thing" in every context, as a replacement word for any noun out there -- something that probably drives djw crazier than it does me.

I shall leave it for another time sorta thing.

Can't a-Ford an editor?

I've mentioned it before, and I've mentioned it again. Last time, it was the spoken word, on the radio, that set me off. Fine: you're speaking on-the-fly, and your brain can't construct grammatically correct sentences all the time. I can accept that. (Not really.)

But the written word? As one's job? Put in print?


Unlike the competition's mild hybrids, which always require power from the gasoline engine, full hybrids - like the new Ford Escape Hybrid - have the ability to drive in electric-only mode at certain speeds.

That means less trips to the gas station.

-Wired Magazine 13.01, p.71

Less trips.

How does this happen? The writer of this ad, I would assume, has an English degree. Or a writing degree. Or high-school to some degree.

He or she also has an editor, I should think. How about the customer, who might fancy a look at the advertisement they're paying for, before it goes to print? And no one noticed this?

At first I thought that the writer might be using nice, simple words for the reader, that somehow "fewer" was too «difficult» or obscure. Then I read the next line.


61% fewer smog-forming pollutants.


Okay, perhaps the writer (or editor) didn't like the word "fewer" twice in a row? Perhaps they were taught to avoid repetition by pulling out their handy thesaurus? But in this case, repetition is useful, as it drives the point home: fewer gas station stops, fewer emissions, etc.

Perhaps most likely (ruling out simple incompetence) is that the copy had changed from something like


That means less gas/fuel (used/consumed).


and someone didn't like the wording. Or they wanted not to emphasize the cost savings so much as the convenience of not having to stop as often? A few words get shuffled around, and no one re-reads the result?

Excuses all, and bad ones. I've come to expect it on live radio and in internet chatrooms. Even in amateur writing, such as the sandwich board for your local deli. But a writer for a big firm such as you'd expect Ford to hire?

But why waste my online breath? I'm probably the only one to have noticed. Still, if I can educate even one reader, or shame another into correctness, then my job is done. I take the stance that is, ironically, summarized in the last sentence of this ad:


On the road to a better future, some are born to lead the way.

Fresh humble pie - would you like some?

I never thought I'd do this. I pride myself on how adept I am with this language, yet in the past week I've come upon two things. Two errors. On my part.

Read the following aloud: Sue read from her English primer.

How did you pronounce that last word? Long I or short? "pry-mer". Me too. But did you know that it's pronounced "prim-mer"? Yeah, me either. I was watching the Microsoft .NET Show (in case you had any doubt that I was a geek), and the host mentions the show will be a "primmer" about blahblahblah. The blahblahblah was what he continued to talk about as my mind grabbed 'hold of the word and started laughing at him. "It's 'pry-mer', you fool!" my mind said. But, just in case there was a regional pronunciation of the word, I looked it up. Apparently the region is Earth.

To comfort you all, I assure you that there is a word pronounced "pry-mer", which has the meaning for explosives and paint, and apparently genetics.


Two days later: pronounce the word "victuals". Even if you don't know what it means, pronounce it. Don't go look it up -- I want you to say it the way I always have. Actually, I'm not sure I've ever actually said it, but the way my mind's voice says it when I read it.

You've possibly heard of the cat food brand Tender Vittles. Vittles. I think we've all heard the word, and if you're like me (you lucky soul), you probably assumed it was a pseudo-word used to mean food. Like «eats».

Nope; "victuals" is vittles. That's how it's pronounced. Ugh.


I've mentioned before that I don't care for people who write words that they've heard, but -- we can hope -- have never seen in print. Intensive purposes. Melon calling.

In my defense, my error is the other way around. I've seen the words in print and have obviously made assumptions on the pronunciation (reasonable ones, in my opinion). At least I could spell them correctly. Or could I? If someone said to me, "spell 'prim-mer'" or "spell 'vittles'". I'd have given them (after a strange look for 'prim-mer') "primmer" and "vittles".

The things you loin everyday. That's right, "loin". From the Latin lumbus, to Old French numbles, as in umbles, or "umble pie". Also known as "humble pie", my title for today, and of which I'm having a nice juicy slice. You better enjoy it, because you won't hear me say I was wrong -- twice -- that often.

INTERNET DOWNGRADED

It was a long time coming - not only changing of Internet to the more commonplace-appearing internet, but the completion of this entry for the Ruckus Room (I started it back in August). I know I capitalized the "I" and will likely continue to do so, until I ween myself of the habit, but accroding to Wired, the status of the word has changed from formal to everyday. I'll be honest, I found a certain satisfaction in correcting people: "It's a capital, actually." Looks like I'll have to find another lingual peccadillo by which to be affronted and then correct. Suggestions are welcome.

As for the rest of the changes to to the Wired copy standards, they don't mean that much to me. To be frank, I never afforded web the same respect. And regardless of where I work, "web site" will always be two words. Thank you.

RENDERED USELESS

I was listening to the radio once again, which, as I've mentioned before, can lead to problems for me, not only from pop music and its liberalizing of language, but from the «professional» public speakers known as DJs.

Our morning pair was talking about a recent poll in Britain regarding the best death scene in a movie.* They mentioned Psycho as number one and Bambi was number six. One DJ asked the other about Old Yeller.

Other DJ: That's a good one, it was very heart-rendering.
First DJ: Yes, heart-rendering.

Heart-rendering. *sigh* Let's see what The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language has to say.


ren·der·ing
n.
1. A depiction or interpretation, as in painting or music.


While I've never seen Old Yeller, I'm pretty sure it's about a dog and not a painting of a heart or a musical score. Perhaps the movie itself is a metaphor for the heart?


2. A drawing in perspective of a proposed structure.


The movie's about a boy and a farm and a dog, from what I've heard. I don't think the father was an architect. Maybe a heart surgeon, and the "drawing...of a proposed structure" was of an artificial heart?


3. A translation: a rendering of Cicero's treatises into English.


Perhaps "Old Yeller" is English for "Cicero"? Or "treatise"?


4. A coat of plaster or cement applied to a masonry surface.


This must be it. The death scene in Old Yeller must have put a coat of plaster over viewers' hearts. How poetic.

For you who still don't know what's wrong with "heart-rendering", it's "heartrending", or "heart wrenching". This doesn't stop over 8000 webpages found by Google from using "heart rendering". Luckily, one of them discusses it instead of "uses" it:

Bartleby.com

Kenneth G. Wilson (1923–). The Columbia Guide to Standard American English. 1993.

heartrending, heart-rendering (adjs.)

The real adjective is heartrending, meaning "heart-tearing" or "heartbreaking" and hence "grief-causing." Heart-rendering is a nonce word, possibly a malapropism, but more likely a deliberate jocularity.

I'd really, really like to believe that the DJs did it on purpose, with "deliberate jocularity", but I cannot. While I can understand (but not excuse) the commonfolk for this misuse (after all, "rend" isn't a word in many people's vocabularies, but "render" might be), it's the «professionals» who should be held responsible. But what would I write about then?

heartrendering  n.

1._  _

 ( \/ )

  \  /  

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* Everyone knows that the best death scene in a movie is Paul Reubens' character in Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1992).