I'm an 'anomolly'
That's what Wendy just labellled me on MSN Instant Messenger. I asked her if that was her way of calling me an effeminate anomaly, my typically gentle way of pointing out her awful spelling. She said yes, because she's probably too drunk by this time of the evening to think of a comeback.
Some people who don't understand what's important in life protest that I am overly fixated on spelling and grammar. Spelling is strongly correlated with intelligence, so I can understand how this subject causes impatience and agitation. I was chastized last weekend for pointing out to a waiter that a menu contained two completely unacceptable apostrophes, placed before the final letters of 'entrees' and 'pastas'. My very reasonable suggestion that we go somewhere else was refused. I mean, if they can't get the punctuation right, what hope was there for the food?
Language fascinates me. I am in awe of truly good writing. It is almost a spiritual experience, the same kind of transcendence I derive from top quality singing, usually by women. My reverence for a shapely phrase no doubt explains my horror at its opposite. I can feel a mini-stroke coming on whenever I hear a double negative or a malapropism, like last weekend when an acquaintance used the word 'destitute' repeatedly when he meant 'desperate'. It's the same reaction I have to really bad singing, which is why I avoid karaoke at almost any cost.
I have studied several other languages, some more seriously than others, and I have spent more hours than I care to admit comparing words and their etymologies. I actually own a small book that charts hundreds of words in several Frisian dialects and provides their English, Dutch and German counterparts. I feel this psychologically bizarre loneliness on behalf of English that our tongue has no truly close relatives. When I hear a word in a foreign language, I can't help thinking about its roots and the evolution of its English translation. So when I hear a word misused and/or abused, it's like someone is insulting the entire Indo-European linguistic family.
There are those who say that they choose their words very carefully when they write to me. I believe they're trying to tell me that I should ease up because it makes them anxious or even paranoid. But why would I change my ways when I'm clearly having a positive effect on their communication skills? I'm an altruist, after all, and it pains me not to help others.
Wendy's asked me to wrap this up while she opens up another winebox. See? I always do my best to make everyone happy.
Some people who don't understand what's important in life protest that I am overly fixated on spelling and grammar. Spelling is strongly correlated with intelligence, so I can understand how this subject causes impatience and agitation. I was chastized last weekend for pointing out to a waiter that a menu contained two completely unacceptable apostrophes, placed before the final letters of 'entrees' and 'pastas'. My very reasonable suggestion that we go somewhere else was refused. I mean, if they can't get the punctuation right, what hope was there for the food?
Language fascinates me. I am in awe of truly good writing. It is almost a spiritual experience, the same kind of transcendence I derive from top quality singing, usually by women. My reverence for a shapely phrase no doubt explains my horror at its opposite. I can feel a mini-stroke coming on whenever I hear a double negative or a malapropism, like last weekend when an acquaintance used the word 'destitute' repeatedly when he meant 'desperate'. It's the same reaction I have to really bad singing, which is why I avoid karaoke at almost any cost.
I have studied several other languages, some more seriously than others, and I have spent more hours than I care to admit comparing words and their etymologies. I actually own a small book that charts hundreds of words in several Frisian dialects and provides their English, Dutch and German counterparts. I feel this psychologically bizarre loneliness on behalf of English that our tongue has no truly close relatives. When I hear a word in a foreign language, I can't help thinking about its roots and the evolution of its English translation. So when I hear a word misused and/or abused, it's like someone is insulting the entire Indo-European linguistic family.
There are those who say that they choose their words very carefully when they write to me. I believe they're trying to tell me that I should ease up because it makes them anxious or even paranoid. But why would I change my ways when I'm clearly having a positive effect on their communication skills? I'm an altruist, after all, and it pains me not to help others.
Wendy's asked me to wrap this up while she opens up another winebox. See? I always do my best to make everyone happy.
posted by Exile | 6:06 PM
13 Comments:
The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon,The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon,The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon,The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon,The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon,The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon,The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon,The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon,The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon,The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon,The Yukon, The Yukon, The Yukon.
You get the picture...
OK, abuse of the definite article is a HUGE sign of alcohol-induced dementia, Wendy. I'm scheduling an intervention for you.
Or, put another way, you are a pedantic obsessive compulsive.
Do you realize that you came across as a complete nerd in this blog?
u sownd liche u dont goght no liph. mi deer boi, i gots 2 gett u owtta teh Grhahmer prisun un whitch u liv.
Wow. This post made you really popular with your friends...
LOL Corina!
Doug, I know I've had a positive influence on you.
Phoenix, don't worry. One day you'll learn how to express yourself too. *smooch*
Corina, you are very, very funny. And thank you for showing me pics of that hot guy again tonight. Can't wait to meet him.
Wendy, I wouldn't be a true friend if I didn't point out certain things.
Id like to way in on this and says that I think good grammer and speling is the mostest important things cause they shows your kooth and stuff like that there. Forgive me!! I've lost myself in a world of teenagers this week. It's like I mean like it's hard to like talk good like all the time but its like so important so like people like understand real clear the like things your saying (like). Imagine a world in which people actually spoke clearly and others understood the meaning and intent???!!!! Like wow, what a rush!!!
Misorganized, you cringe as much as I do when someone does those terrible things. Oh, and the 'like' fetish is truly unbearable, I agree. Violence-inspiring, even. I don't know why the law protects them from physical correction.
I'm VERY afraid to reply to this article, for fear of making a mistake.
I will never ever write to Barry!
Daniel
Daniel, you need not worry. My contempt is reserved for people who speak English as a first language yet still cannot write a decent sentence.
I definitely understand your pain, Barry. Poor grammar and misused words (more than spelling) make me flinch, every time. But I have an excuse - I was once an editor, trained specifically to spot and correct such mistakes. I like to believe that with a different background I would be as tolerant as the day is long.
Oops - forgot to sign that - it's Patty
I've worked as an editor on and off for years too, Patty, but even before that I reacted badly to poor language skills. However, I can usually be bought off with pumpkin pie, which explains a lot about my weight. ;-)
Post a Comment
<< Home