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.
Friday, November 25, 2005
Friday, February 11, 2005
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
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.
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.
Tuesday, August 17, 2004
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.
Friday, June 11, 2004
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
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?
* Everyone knows that the best death scene in a movie is Paul Reubens' character in Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1992).
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._ _
( \/ )
\ /
\/
* Everyone knows that the best death scene in a movie is Paul Reubens' character in Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1992).
Monday, May 03, 2004
ADVANTAGE: SPELLCHECK
Awkshun Serchs
Some lonely eBay sellers, long puzzled by the lack of online enthusiasm for their goods, are now the favored folks for a growing cult of bargain hunters who search the auction site for those who simply, well, can't spell. Yes, a staunch group of eBay hunters are finding some serious bargains by ferreting out such products as labtop computers, Art Deko vases, camras, saffires, comferters, antiks, and dimonds (spellings all found in a recent eBay search). The New York Times reports a growing number of eBayistas search specifically for misspellings, knowing there is likely a frustrated seller on the other end who will accept a lowball bid just to get rid of the item(s). Often these buyers will then turn around and sell the item all over again on eBay for a much higher price simply because they spelled the item's name correctly.
This was from the News Track section of Communications of the ACM, April 2004. There are two things I love about it.
First, the bad spellers are being punished. I may harangue and rant here about all the injustices in language, but it doesn't really accomplish anything, apart from let off a little steam. I can admit that. Never did I think that it was possible for the transgressors to be punished. Note that this is different than someone punishing them because of the transgression, as a teacher might give a low grade to a paper with atrocious word-use*; the eBay misspellers are punished by way of their very mistake.
Yes, you can argue that the original sellers aren't being punished, since they do still accept the lowballed price offered. But you must take into account the reseller's return when they auction off the same item at a reasonable profit. It's that differential in profits that makes up the punishment, because if it wasn't for a simple, correctable mistake, the original seller could have realized that profit themselves.
The second highlight to this piece is the resellers. They're making a profit with hardly any effort (I've never bought or sold on eBay, so I'm only guessing that it's not that hard). These people have found a way to make money by buying and selling items. This is nothing new. Finding markets where an item is cheaply available and selling them in a different market probably has an economic term that I promptly forgot after getting a D in Econ 201. But these people found this new market. I leave the attribution of creation to those lacking a dictionary.
I sat for a few moments after reading the article, trying to decide if I'd ever have come up with this idea. If I was one that trolled eBay in search of deals, I'd certainly notice the plethora of mistakes to be found in such a melting pot, and might even post about them here. But to decide that poor spelling really can harm you? Probably not. And then to take it one step further and realize that someone else's spelling error could benefit you, to realize that those mistakes could lead to opportunity? Definitely not.
This isn't to say that I don't understand the relationship between text search engines and bad spelling. I'm a computer programmer who's worked for one of the biggest search engine companies around. I'm also a websurfer who has on many occasions seen a website and wondered how anyone would find it with a search engine, since such-and-such word -- usually the subject or theme of the webpage -- is spelled incorrectly. But to realize the benefit from this? To see an opportunity for gain? Utter genius. My hat off to you, "eBayistas." You may have found the real way to get through to people. Their wallet.
I'll end with this with the emotion that the article stirred within me, one of my favorite words in this or any other language.
schadenfreude (shād'n-froi'də)
n.
Pleasure derived from the misfortunes of others.
*Yes, yes, the students are to blame for their low grades, not the teachers, but you get my point.
Wednesday, March 31, 2004
MAKING FEWER MISTAKES
I've been listening to more news radio than music on my drive to and from work, mainly because the music station DJs annoy me. The drawback to this, of course, is that with less music you get more speech, which just makes me realize many more mistakes than usual.
Less music.
More speech.
Many more mistakes.
Seems fine, does it not? I certainly didn't write "fewer music" or "much more mistakes", did I? Then why would people say it that way? How do people not realize their mistake as soon as they make it?
The "fewer/less" problem has been on my list of peeves for a while. I know, it's hard to believe. In the past, it would crop up every so often, and I'd shudder slightly and let it pass. But now I'm hearing it more and more, and I don't think it's a renewed sensitivity to it -- I think the problem is spreading.
If you're looking for an explanation about the usage of these words, I'll give you my quick version. Some things can be counted. Some cannot. People can be counted, while water cannot. That's right, you can have glasses of water, pools of water, molecules of water, and they're all countable, but water is not. The use of "less" versus "fewer" depends on whether the object is countable or not.
So, you can have less water, but you can't have fewer water. This, I should hope, makes complete sense. Fewer water? And to be honest, I don't think this mistake is made often. But this is becoming all too common: "Less people showed up today than yesterday." To me, this is obviously wrong, glaringly so.
So, why does this happen? My guess is that, with the decline of language and people's vocabulary, they just see "less" and "fewer" as synonyms, and "less" is more common, so it's used all the time. And that's fine.
Well, no, I don't really believe it's fine, but I can accept it, as I know I have to accept all the other errors that are becoming «correct» in today's use. But what I would like to see and hear are professionals, at least, knowing the correct way to write and speak.
And perhaps that's my real issue. More and more, especially on the radio, I'm hearing such poor English. Those same music station DJs that I'm avoiding for their generally annoying morning banter make mistakes all the time. And, I should like to think, they're professionals in the field of public broadcast. Someone has deemed them qualified to speak to an audience.
Sure, live radio should be given some leeway. After all, the majority of it is ad-libbed, so their thought processes might change halfway through saying something, and thus come out incorrect. And I can accept that. But what excuse do the advertisements have? These are pre-recorded. These are, I assume, edited. Edited by editors, who I again assume, are professionals. Is this not their job? Their ONLY job?? Should they not be held accountable, especially to the youth who are going to hear and propagate the mistakes?
Perhaps I just need to make less assumptions.
Less music.
More speech.
Many more mistakes.
Seems fine, does it not? I certainly didn't write "fewer music" or "much more mistakes", did I? Then why would people say it that way? How do people not realize their mistake as soon as they make it?
The "fewer/less" problem has been on my list of peeves for a while. I know, it's hard to believe. In the past, it would crop up every so often, and I'd shudder slightly and let it pass. But now I'm hearing it more and more, and I don't think it's a renewed sensitivity to it -- I think the problem is spreading.
If you're looking for an explanation about the usage of these words, I'll give you my quick version. Some things can be counted. Some cannot. People can be counted, while water cannot. That's right, you can have glasses of water, pools of water, molecules of water, and they're all countable, but water is not. The use of "less" versus "fewer" depends on whether the object is countable or not.
So, you can have less water, but you can't have fewer water. This, I should hope, makes complete sense. Fewer water? And to be honest, I don't think this mistake is made often. But this is becoming all too common: "Less people showed up today than yesterday." To me, this is obviously wrong, glaringly so.
So, why does this happen? My guess is that, with the decline of language and people's vocabulary, they just see "less" and "fewer" as synonyms, and "less" is more common, so it's used all the time. And that's fine.
Well, no, I don't really believe it's fine, but I can accept it, as I know I have to accept all the other errors that are becoming «correct» in today's use. But what I would like to see and hear are professionals, at least, knowing the correct way to write and speak.
And perhaps that's my real issue. More and more, especially on the radio, I'm hearing such poor English. Those same music station DJs that I'm avoiding for their generally annoying morning banter make mistakes all the time. And, I should like to think, they're professionals in the field of public broadcast. Someone has deemed them qualified to speak to an audience.
Sure, live radio should be given some leeway. After all, the majority of it is ad-libbed, so their thought processes might change halfway through saying something, and thus come out incorrect. And I can accept that. But what excuse do the advertisements have? These are pre-recorded. These are, I assume, edited. Edited by editors, who I again assume, are professionals. Is this not their job? Their ONLY job?? Should they not be held accountable, especially to the youth who are going to hear and propagate the mistakes?
Perhaps I just need to make less assumptions.
Thursday, March 18, 2004
SOUNDS LIKE STUPIDITY
It has definitely been a while since I've ranted, but not for any lack of material. I find that these things hit me when I'm nowhere near a computer, so I have no way to record my thoughts, and my memory being what it is, they're soon lost. What a shame.
Here's a short one I had pointed out from a friend. It's from a post on a web board, which is a treasure-trove when you are looking for the mistakes of today's youth. At least, I hope it's our youth.
The context isn't important, I believe, so I'll just snip out the really relevant parts.
Nats is confused and melon calling and self-degrading and self-pittying....this is not "evil",
"Evil" would vomit at all the wishy washyness of Nats and Aribeth.
And Aribeth is Psycho in addition to confused and melon calling and self-degrading and self-pitying, and not "evil".
Hopefully your brain paused momentarily, if not longer, on the "melon calling".
Now, working with the context, that all the other terms are adjectives and not verbs (Nats and Aribeth aren't calling out to melons), then what could the author possibly mean? Is melon a misspelled word? Is this slang, with "melon" meaning "head", so "melon calling" is ... insulting someone's head? No no, we ruled out a verb.
Melon calling. Melon calling. It rolls off your tongue, doesn't it? Try it. I promise it'll help. Melon calling. Are you melon calling?
If you haven't gotten it yet - I read it many times before I figured it out - I won't spoil it for you. But this is an extreme example of what I've talked about before, where people are hearing words but never seeing them, and thus are «mapping» them into words that they do know. They get a sense of the meaning of the «word» they've learned, and don't give any thought to how their interpretation could possibly make any sense. Melon calling? Why? Why would you ever believe that that's right? The whole "should of"/"could of"/"would of" issue can be glossed over in print and most readers don't notice it. That doesn't make it right, but at least communication hasn't broken down. But "melon calling"?
I like to think of myself as "hep" and "able", so I can keep up with today's argot. But this? It took me way too long. And the other posters on the message board didn't bat an eye. Was it because they glossed over the unknown and just took in what they could understand? Or was I the only reader on that board that didn't automatically know what the poster meant? Am I that out of touch? Have I fallen behind?
Now I'm feeling a little melon calling myself.
Here's a short one I had pointed out from a friend. It's from a post on a web board, which is a treasure-trove when you are looking for the mistakes of today's youth. At least, I hope it's our youth.
The context isn't important, I believe, so I'll just snip out the really relevant parts.
Nats is confused and melon calling and self-degrading and self-pittying....this is not "evil",
"Evil" would vomit at all the wishy washyness of Nats and Aribeth.
And Aribeth is Psycho in addition to confused and melon calling and self-degrading and self-pitying, and not "evil".
Hopefully your brain paused momentarily, if not longer, on the "melon calling".
Now, working with the context, that all the other terms are adjectives and not verbs (Nats and Aribeth aren't calling out to melons), then what could the author possibly mean? Is melon a misspelled word? Is this slang, with "melon" meaning "head", so "melon calling" is ... insulting someone's head? No no, we ruled out a verb.
Melon calling. Melon calling. It rolls off your tongue, doesn't it? Try it. I promise it'll help. Melon calling. Are you melon calling?
If you haven't gotten it yet - I read it many times before I figured it out - I won't spoil it for you. But this is an extreme example of what I've talked about before, where people are hearing words but never seeing them, and thus are «mapping» them into words that they do know. They get a sense of the meaning of the «word» they've learned, and don't give any thought to how their interpretation could possibly make any sense. Melon calling? Why? Why would you ever believe that that's right? The whole "should of"/"could of"/"would of" issue can be glossed over in print and most readers don't notice it. That doesn't make it right, but at least communication hasn't broken down. But "melon calling"?
I like to think of myself as "hep" and "able", so I can keep up with today's argot. But this? It took me way too long. And the other posters on the message board didn't bat an eye. Was it because they glossed over the unknown and just took in what they could understand? Or was I the only reader on that board that didn't automatically know what the poster meant? Am I that out of touch? Have I fallen behind?
Now I'm feeling a little melon calling myself.
Tuesday, September 09, 2003
SHOULD'VE, COULD OF, WOULDA
DW has opined that it is in fact the smart people in the world that are to blame for the decline of the English language. His theory is that the common folk hear the intelligent people (mis)using certain words, and are following suit. At first I thought this was ridiculous...
Now I'm not so sure. In my distaste for the overactive evolution of this language, I do find myself using these neologisms on purpose.* In the right company, I will force myself to say "prolly" instead of "probably", or "should of" instead of "should have" -- both with obvious emphasis -- to mock the direction of today's vernacular.
It must be said that these two are among my greatest peeves. The latter, "should of", with its cousins "could of" and "would of", are, a little surprisingly, the ones that I can more easily excuse. For the children that use it, I can only assume that they read so little that they've never seen contractions in use. They hear others use them in speech, translate it to the words they do know how to spell, and voila, new English.
Does this excuse it, though, from appearing in a television commercial (if memory serves, for Bud Light)? Or does it excuse the 95,700 webpages that Google finds with "should of"? Even if we allow for the few pages that are discussing the incorrectness of the «word», that's a whole lot of web pages being designed by illiterates. Ouch.
And "prolly". What is that? I can understand "probly" and "probally", as the spoken word has that predominant B sound in there. If it wasn't formed from a simple misspelling, then, is it meant to be a time-saver in writing (or, let's be honest, when typing)? Maybe. But is that the reason Judge Reinhold's character in Fast Times at Ridgemont High says it -- because the scriptwriter was trying to save some time? 1982 sure predates all Instant Messaging systems, and most bulletin boards as well.
So who's to blame? The computing industry for making people lazy? The intelligensia who are unknowingly mis-educating the masses by example? Or do we point the finger once again at the media, with the doctrine that if it's on T.V. it must be true?
But if it's about people learning things incorrectly, and not being taught the correct words and language, is it not the education system at fault? When degree-holders confuse simple homonyms and cannot recognize that a word is obviously misspelled, should we not question the efficacy of the institution and the value of the degree?
Or is it the workplace that's to blame, allowing unqualified people to write publicly -- whether it's a corporate webpage or a cafe's sandwich board?
I work at an educational institution, so am I one of those to blame for allowing graduates with just basic English skills? No. What about when I don't speak up when there are publicly-posted webpages here replete with errors, here at work? Maybe. Or, is it truly my personal, purposeful misuse of the language, spreading to all who care to listen?
Prolly.
* Have I just assumed to place myself amongst the "smart people" to which I refer? Yup. Take it or leave it.
Now I'm not so sure. In my distaste for the overactive evolution of this language, I do find myself using these neologisms on purpose.* In the right company, I will force myself to say "prolly" instead of "probably", or "should of" instead of "should have" -- both with obvious emphasis -- to mock the direction of today's vernacular.
It must be said that these two are among my greatest peeves. The latter, "should of", with its cousins "could of" and "would of", are, a little surprisingly, the ones that I can more easily excuse. For the children that use it, I can only assume that they read so little that they've never seen contractions in use. They hear others use them in speech, translate it to the words they do know how to spell, and voila, new English.
Does this excuse it, though, from appearing in a television commercial (if memory serves, for Bud Light)? Or does it excuse the 95,700 webpages that Google finds with "should of"? Even if we allow for the few pages that are discussing the incorrectness of the «word», that's a whole lot of web pages being designed by illiterates. Ouch.
And "prolly". What is that? I can understand "probly" and "probally", as the spoken word has that predominant B sound in there. If it wasn't formed from a simple misspelling, then, is it meant to be a time-saver in writing (or, let's be honest, when typing)? Maybe. But is that the reason Judge Reinhold's character in Fast Times at Ridgemont High says it -- because the scriptwriter was trying to save some time? 1982 sure predates all Instant Messaging systems, and most bulletin boards as well.
So who's to blame? The computing industry for making people lazy? The intelligensia who are unknowingly mis-educating the masses by example? Or do we point the finger once again at the media, with the doctrine that if it's on T.V. it must be true?
But if it's about people learning things incorrectly, and not being taught the correct words and language, is it not the education system at fault? When degree-holders confuse simple homonyms and cannot recognize that a word is obviously misspelled, should we not question the efficacy of the institution and the value of the degree?
Or is it the workplace that's to blame, allowing unqualified people to write publicly -- whether it's a corporate webpage or a cafe's sandwich board?
I work at an educational institution, so am I one of those to blame for allowing graduates with just basic English skills? No. What about when I don't speak up when there are publicly-posted webpages here replete with errors, here at work? Maybe. Or, is it truly my personal, purposeful misuse of the language, spreading to all who care to listen?
Prolly.
* Have I just assumed to place myself amongst the "smart people" to which I refer? Yup. Take it or leave it.
Tuesday, August 19, 2003
INSTITUTIONS CRUMBLING
As someone who rants about the abuse of English as often as I take a breath, I was sure that I had a long diatribe coming when I was told about an article relating the latest changes to the Merriam-Webster dictionary.
Alas, I was wrong; the author of the article not only did the job for me, but with a little more conviction than I might have done.
The article, for those too busy to look, discusses the slang being added, the errors being standardized, and the words being "kicked out" of the dictionary.
The addition of slang is probably the area where I disagree most with the article. The author, Robert Hartwell Fiske, mentions the ephemeral nature of slang, and suggests that it's life-cycle rarely spans one edition of a dictionary. While this might be the case, I question whether a dictionary should only cover words in standard use, or whether it can also be used as a reference when reading older works. The term "dis" is still in use, unfortunately, and I myself have been asked more than once as to its origin. Even if the «word»'s usage dies out, media of today might need translation in the future. We do, for instance, have many entries that are noted as archaic -- or are those words the very ones removed to add the new ones? Of these archaic words, it's true that some people might use them, but others have been relegated to the rank of obscure crossword references and Scrabble®.
As for words that are dropped from the dictionary, I agree with Fiske that a book containing these words would be interesting. More interesting than the list, however, would be the rationale behind their removal.
The biggest issue I have with the additions mentioned in the article, and again where I agree with Fiske, is the addition of words that are just plain wrong.
Reading the article, I learned two new terms, "descriptivist" and "prescriptivist", of which I am certainly the latter. While I can accept that language needs to change, I think it should be from necessity and not fallacy. I used to be worse, nitpicking about every misuse -- sometimes incorrectly -- until I realized that even fellow prescriptivists relax their standards at times. Now I just silently take pride in my correct usage while rolling my eyes at others' speech and writing.
Still, this doesn't excuse misuse and misspellings. The examples cited in the article are poignant: "accidently" is an absurd addition. I can't say I've ever heard this word pronounced this way, though I can see people misspelling "accidentally" in such a way. It does not make it right. "Conversate". I suppose we should give a little credit to those who attempt to apply grammatical rules to further their vocabulary, but not all back-formation should be considered valid, just because it's become popular.
My own peccadillo, not mentioned in the article, is "supposably" versus "supposedly". I think what irks me the most is that most people don't know the real meaning of "supposably"; I think it's fairly obvious that they're taking affixes that they hear every day and, having not seen the word in print, assume that "supposedly" is spelled similarly.
And this, I think, is the crux of the issue. What I can't decide, though, is whether people are reading less -- to be blamed on television and videogames I'm sure -- or if people are reading more, now that they have access to email and the Internet, but that this increased influx of text is unedited and teaching incorrect uses to those who could otherwise benefit from all this extra reading.
But the question being asked, regarding these additions to the dictionaries, is whether the dictionaries' roles are exactly that -- to note the way language is used, and not necessarily the way it should be used. I'm of the opinion that separate dictionaries should exist to differentiate between the two, or at the very least it should be well-noted in an all-in-one dictionary that words are incorrect or fleeting as they are slang, dialectal or archaic now. Or, are we just going to allow a handful of companies to declare what is and is not considered «correct»?
Supposably.
Alas, I was wrong; the author of the article not only did the job for me, but with a little more conviction than I might have done.
The article, for those too busy to look, discusses the slang being added, the errors being standardized, and the words being "kicked out" of the dictionary.
The addition of slang is probably the area where I disagree most with the article. The author, Robert Hartwell Fiske, mentions the ephemeral nature of slang, and suggests that it's life-cycle rarely spans one edition of a dictionary. While this might be the case, I question whether a dictionary should only cover words in standard use, or whether it can also be used as a reference when reading older works. The term "dis" is still in use, unfortunately, and I myself have been asked more than once as to its origin. Even if the «word»'s usage dies out, media of today might need translation in the future. We do, for instance, have many entries that are noted as archaic -- or are those words the very ones removed to add the new ones? Of these archaic words, it's true that some people might use them, but others have been relegated to the rank of obscure crossword references and Scrabble®.
As for words that are dropped from the dictionary, I agree with Fiske that a book containing these words would be interesting. More interesting than the list, however, would be the rationale behind their removal.
The biggest issue I have with the additions mentioned in the article, and again where I agree with Fiske, is the addition of words that are just plain wrong.
Reading the article, I learned two new terms, "descriptivist" and "prescriptivist", of which I am certainly the latter. While I can accept that language needs to change, I think it should be from necessity and not fallacy. I used to be worse, nitpicking about every misuse -- sometimes incorrectly -- until I realized that even fellow prescriptivists relax their standards at times. Now I just silently take pride in my correct usage while rolling my eyes at others' speech and writing.
Still, this doesn't excuse misuse and misspellings. The examples cited in the article are poignant: "accidently" is an absurd addition. I can't say I've ever heard this word pronounced this way, though I can see people misspelling "accidentally" in such a way. It does not make it right. "Conversate". I suppose we should give a little credit to those who attempt to apply grammatical rules to further their vocabulary, but not all back-formation should be considered valid, just because it's become popular.
My own peccadillo, not mentioned in the article, is "supposably" versus "supposedly". I think what irks me the most is that most people don't know the real meaning of "supposably"; I think it's fairly obvious that they're taking affixes that they hear every day and, having not seen the word in print, assume that "supposedly" is spelled similarly.
And this, I think, is the crux of the issue. What I can't decide, though, is whether people are reading less -- to be blamed on television and videogames I'm sure -- or if people are reading more, now that they have access to email and the Internet, but that this increased influx of text is unedited and teaching incorrect uses to those who could otherwise benefit from all this extra reading.
But the question being asked, regarding these additions to the dictionaries, is whether the dictionaries' roles are exactly that -- to note the way language is used, and not necessarily the way it should be used. I'm of the opinion that separate dictionaries should exist to differentiate between the two, or at the very least it should be well-noted in an all-in-one dictionary that words are incorrect or fleeting as they are slang, dialectal or archaic now. Or, are we just going to allow a handful of companies to declare what is and is not considered «correct»?
Supposably.
Monday, August 04, 2003
NE BODY OUT THERE?
Thanks for stopping by The Ruckus Room. We've saved the La-Z-Boy* just for you, so take a load off. That's what we're here for.
You've likely stumbled upon us because you clicked some link that you really should not have; or your 'bot turned up our byte-based basement retreat and how could you resist the possibility of virtual shag carpeting; or like us, your one of those people who possess an overwhelming urge, nay, biological imperative to correct others when they misuse a word, mis-spell a word, or basically butcher the English language so horribly as to make it incomprehensible. The Ruckus Room is the place to get that sort of thing off your chest.
That's not to say we're perfect. No sir. Not at all. But we're trying. And if we all tried just a little every day, dumbass additions to the language, like _ne_ included in the title above, wouldn't exist to infuriate us to the point of apoplexy -- although, I do admit that a little incoherent rage matched with splotchy fits of red covering the face and arms can be amusing. Sometimes.
For those of you not in the know, _ne_ is the phonetic representation of _any_. For those of you who do know what it is, and worse yet use it, shame on you. I get the cultural significance of pluralizing with a _z_ or mixing numbers with letters to form words (of a sort) like _l3wt_ and _l33t_ to keep the 5-0 guessing about your mad hackzor skills, er, skillz. But _ne_? You save just one letter when you're typing. Are you lazy? Is it cool? Probably, on both counts. You know who I feel for in all this, beside my doctor who has the unfortunate job of telling me my blood pressure is too high and that I need to relax, teachers. Imagine the state of English papers throughout the education systems, clogged with this new lexicon. Sigh
Thanks again for coming by. We're sure glad you did. Next time we'll break out the margarita mix.
* Don't worry, we'll get to this sort of thing and the marketers who breed it soon enough.
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