Farewell Queen’s English Society: who will care now?

 

H. W. Fowler, William Safire, Strunk & White, Henry Higgins: what associations do these names evoke in our age of texts and tweets, lols and omgs? How many teenagers have even heard of those people, let alone read and relished what they wrote or talked about? (Well, perhaps the fictional one might have filtered through …) Granted, language pedants and advocates don’t generally ooze humor, glamor or sex appeal – although Lynne Truss proved to be a refreshing exception with her funny and accessible book  “Eats, Shoots & Leaves”, which made it to the bestseller lists. Who are the popular standard-bearers and advocates of our language nowadays?

The Queen’s English Society is now defunct. It might have stood its ground if it had changed its name  and branding. Let’s face it: who still speaks what we think of as “the Queen’s English”, other than Her Majesty herself and her Firm? Given that most English-speakers don’t want to talk with proverbial (or literal, in the case of poor Eliza Doolittle) marbles in their mouths, the idea of preserving, promoting or identifying with the voice of the hoity-toities is not just unpopular or ‘un-PC’, but broadcasting companies and casting agencies are apparently using reverse discrimination when it comes to hiring voices, and public figures are ‘dumbing down’ the way they speak (Tony Blair is thought to have done just that during his tenure at No. 10).

But we’re not talking about accents and elocution, getting away with it at Ascot or impressing foreign princes here. It’s more about the clarity and usefulness of our most sophisticated  and highly-developed form of communication, and whether its sheer functionality is being eroded as its policing declines and there’s no-one upholding its laws. The political correctness of the liberal linguists is taking a firm hold, and there are persuasive arguments that the constant evolution and ever-changing usage of our language keeps it limber, pertinent, dynamic and even beautiful. But there’s also a danger that with fewer old-fashioned custodians keeping our tongues, pens and iPhones in check, we’ll not only lose a historic monument of living, breathing art, but more importantly we’ll find it increasingly difficult to communicate with each other at the subtle and complex level that our language – until now – has enabled us to do. The laws of language – grammar, punctuation, and even spelling – are there to prevent ambiguity and ease understanding. Without them, we’ll be left with a lawless, anarchic mess of meaningless words.

Here are two articles – in The Telegraph and The Independent respectively – about the Queen’s English and the Society that struggled to protect it.

 

It is easy to mock the Queen’s English Society – but our language will be poorer without them

By

June 6th, 2012

Now the Queen's English Society is gone, will we see more grocer's apostrophes? (Photo: Geoff Pugh)

Now that the Queen’s English Society is gone, will anybody even care about grocers’ apostrophes? (Photo: Geoff Pugh)

 

The Queen’s English Society is dead. After just 22 people attended their annual meeting, and nobody put themselves forward to become the next chairman, the society was wound up. Liberal linguists will no doubt celebrate with a riot of misplaced apostrophes, misspelt homophones and randomly positioned capital letters.

Read the full article here.

~~~~~~~~~

Bernard Lamb offered an impassioned defence for the upholding of the Queen’s English a couple of years ago in The Independent.

God save the Queen’s English: Our language is under threat from ignorance,

inverted snobbery and deliberate ‘dumbing down’

Far from being outmoded, the correct use of our language is more important than ever, argues Bernard Lamb

Thursday 07 October 2010

The Queen’s English is correct, conventional, standard British English. It is the most authoritative and easily understood form of the language. One finds it in non-fiction and fiction, in textbooks in almost all subjects, in newspapers, in government and business documents, and in public and private correspondence.

Departures from the Queen’s English do get noticed. The head of an online graduate recruitment agency wrote that they reject one third of all job applications from graduates with good degrees from good universities, because errors in English in their CVs and covering letters show ignorance, carelessness and a bad attitude.

The term “the Queen’s English” dates back to 1592, Queen Elizabeth I’s time, but using the Queen’s English is not the prerogative of royalty or any class, group, region or country. The Oxford English Dictionary defines it as: “the English language as regarded as under the guardianship of the Queen; hence, standard or correct English”.

Read the full article here.

********

Henry Hitchings looked at the misuse of apostrophes and other questions about punctuation’s future in the Wall Street Journal in October 2011:

Is This the Future of Punctuation!?

On the misuse of apostrophe’s (did your eye just twitch?) and our increasingly rhetorical language

By Henry Hitchings

Punctuation arouses strong feelings. You have probably come across the pen-wielding vigilantes who skulk around defacing movie posters and amending handwritten signs that advertise “Rest Room’s” or “Puppy’s For Sale.”

People fuss about punctuation not only because it clarifies meaning but also because its neglect appears to reflect wider social decline. And while the big social battles seem intractable, smaller battles over the use of the apostrophe feel like they can be won.

Read the full article here.

 

A sight for sore eyes? For Yanks, yes; for Brits, no – or maybe

Watching the Jubilee flotilla on telly this morning, I was struck by a BBC commentator’s strange choice of words as he described the picturesque and colorful scene of hundreds of ships sailing up the Thames. He declared this picture of British idyll to be “a sight for sore eyes”. I did a double-take. In fact, I grabbed my remote and hit rewind, wondering if I had misheard him. Could he have been referring to an unfortunate downpour of rain? Was he being strangely ironic? His words rang out clear as the sky trying to break through the rainclouds above the grand nautical procession.

Had I really been that mistaken, not taking this poetic compliment at its face value (its logic does suggest a happy sight) but wrongly assuming it had been an insult for all these years? Something told me it must be one of those British-American disconnects, and that the Americans are perhaps more literal in their interpretation of the phrase. Sure enough, two online dictionaries confirmed my suspicions: the Macmillan Dictionary gives two definitions for “a sight for sore eyes”: 1) someone or something that you are very pleased to see; 2) (British) something that is strange or unpleasant to look at; the Longman Dictionary of Contemporary English concurs, also giving two opposite meanings: a) someone or something that you feel very happy to see; b) (British English) someone or something that is very unattractive or very funny to look at.

Yet this morning’s commentator for BBC America spoke with what can only be described as a true-blue BBC British accent, with not a twang or whiff of American behind his home-county vowels. Has the expression lost its curiously illogical British sense through either misuse or misunderstanding? Can anyone explain the origin of the British-English topsy-turvy interpretation of this rather lovely but ambiguous phrase?

 

Schadenfreude and language envy

Thanks to “Avenue Q”, we all know what “Schadenfreude”* means. What a great word it is: it describes something we’ve all felt, and we know exactly what it is. And yet we have no word in the English language to describe that very specific and identifiable experience.

Here below is a list of other words (or phrases) that have no English equivalent. Thank you mental_floss. Trust the Japanese to come up with a simple three words to capture that most poetic sensation upon first meeting someone that the two of you are going to fall in love. And the pragmatic Norwegians have a way of describing any food item that can be put between two slices of bread to create a sandwich. Why didn’t we Brits – masters of the art of the sandwich – think up an English pålegg?

Holes such as these in our vocabulary do suggest that language doesn’t necessarily define or mold thought, as many believe: we don’t always think just within the confines of  the language we speak.  Who doesn’t know that panicky thing you feel just before you have to introduce someone whose name you can’t quite remember? You don’t have to know the Scots’ word ‘tartle’ to know that feeling …

* it’s a German word meaning the feeling of pleasure you get from witnessing someone else’s misfortune

http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/102722

 

Earlier this year, Bill DeMain introduced us to 15 Wonderful Words With No English Equivalent. Now that you’ve integrated those into your vocabulary, here are 14 more.

1. Shemomedjamo (Georgian)
You know when you’re really full, but your meal is just so delicious, you can’t stop eating it? The Georgians feel your pain. This word means, “I accidentally ate the whole thing.”

2. Pelinti (Buli, Ghana)
Your friend bites into a piece of piping hot pizza, then opens his mouth and sort of tilts his head around while making an “aaaarrrahh” noise. The Ghanaians have a word for that. More specifically, it means “to move hot food around in your mouth.”

3. Layogenic (Tagalog)
Remember in Clueless when Cher describes someone as “a full-on Monet…from far away, it’s OK, but up close it’s a big old mess”? That’s exactly what this word means.

4. Rhwe (Tsonga, South Africa)
College kids, relax. There’s actually a word for “to sleep on the floor without a mat, while drunk and naked.”

5. Zeg (Georgian)
It means “the day after tomorrow.” Seriously, why don’t we have a word for that in English?

6. Pålegg (Norweigian)
Sandwich Artists unite! The Norwegians have a non-specific descriptor for anything – ham, cheese, jam, Nutella, mustard, herring, pickles, Doritos, you name it – you might consider putting into a sandwich.

7. Lagom (Swedish)
Maybe Goldilocks was Swedish? This slippery little word is hard to define, but means something like, “Not too much, and not too little, but juuuuust right.”

8. Tartle (Scots)
The nearly onomatopoeic word for that panicky hesitation just before you have to introduce someone whose name you can’t quite remember.

9. Koi No Yokan (Japanese)
The sense upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall into love.

10. Mamihlapinatapai (Yaghan language of Tierra del Fuego)
This word captures that special look shared between two people, when both are wishing that the other would do something that they both want, but neither want to do.

11. Fremdschämen (German); Myötähäpeä (Finnish)
The kindler, gentler cousins of Schadenfreude, both these words mean something akin to “vicarious embarrassment.” Or, in other words, that-feeling-you-get-when-you-watch-Meet the Parents.

12. Cafune (Brazilian Portuguese)
Leave it to the Brazilians to come up with a word for “tenderly running your fingers through your lover’s hair.”

13. Greng-jai (Thai)
That feeling you get when you don’t want someone to do something for you because it would be a pain for them.

14. Kaelling (Danish)
You know that woman who stands on her doorstep (or in line at the supermarket, or at the park, or in a restaurant) cursing at her children? The Danes know her, too.

Read the full text here: http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/102722#ixzz1wYZ7hznP
–brought to you by mental_floss!

Amercia, and Bible-endorsed adultery

“Mistakes happen.  I don’t think any voter cares about a typo at the end of the day,” claimed a spokesman for Mitt Romney after his misspelled app attracted MERCI-less attention from the media.

Well, Mr. Romney, Glossophilia disagrees. If you want America’s vote, you’d better learn how to spell her name. And some of us do care.

Here on Cracked.com is a catalog of some of history’s more consequential (or at least notable) typos. My favorite? The 1631 reprint of the King James Bible, otherwise known as the “Wicked Bible”. Unfortunately a 17th-century proofreader failed to spot a missing word in Exodus 20:14: “Thou shalt commit adultery”.  Or perhaps it was a clever marketing ploy by those clever Stuart publishers hoping for a bestseller …

The 7 Most Disastrous Typos Of All Time

By: May 03, 2010

Email

We’ve all experienced the sting of the typo. Whether it’s spelling your boss Ted’s name with an A and two S’s in a company wide email or listing “jail” as your previous residence on a job application, they can happen to anyone, and often at the most unfortunate times.

Luckily, most of our typos don’t wind up changing world history. Not everyone is so lucky.

#7.
The Source of Spinach’s Power

Popeye the Sailor Man: you gotta love him. He talks like he’s been using his head to hammer nails for the past eight decades, likes his girls anorexic, starts more fights than Joe Biden on a month-long speech bender and sports enormous forearms that Mark McGwire can only whack off to. The source of his powers: spinach.


Back when steroids came in a can.

The Typo:

Unfortunately, it turns out that spinach’s claim to fame can be attributed to a typo from the 19th century, followed by one of the greatest conspiracies in the history of agriculture.

A 1870 German study that served as the basis for Popeye’s spinach-fueled ‘roid rage accidentally printed the decimal place for spinach’s iron content one spot too far to the right. For our non-mathematically inclined readers, that means the report claimed the vegetable had 10 times its actual amount of iron, which ended up equaling out to almost as much as red meat.


“No thanks, I’ll have the compost.”

As a result, entire generations of children, adults and doctors grew up thinking that eating spinach would turn you into freaking Wolverine.

The Result:

Unfortunately, it appears that all the E. Coli scares on the planet won’t erase one 140-year-old typo. You thought we were kidding about the spinach industry having a propaganda wing? To this day, the Kids edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica informs children that spinach is “loaded” with iron in the first sentence of its spinach entry, and the abridged version of the Encyclopedia uses three of its 79 word definition to tell us that “spinach is rich in iron.” Oddly, Britanica’s watermelon entry says nothing about its iron content, even though the fruit has just as much iron as spinach while managing to taste far less like shit.


That is a conspiracy.

#6.
The NASA Mariner 1 Mishap

Let’s face it: When the scale of your scientific failures are so grand that even Arthur C. Clarke starts cracking wise about them, it’s probably time to think seriously about switching to a more fitting career.


“Yeah, I didn’t realize rocket science had so much math.”

Such was the case for NASA in 1962 with the ill-fated launch of America’s first inter-planetary probe Mariner 1. The probe was supposed to fly close enough to Venus to fondle her for a bit.


“Sup?”

But instead it spazzed out due to a software-related guidance system failure not unlike those of video games unceremoniously rushed through production. In short, control of the craft reverted from the dead-accuracy of GoldenEye to the notorious Superman 64 faster than a speeding bullet crashing towards Earth at a thousand miles an hour.


Seriously, fuck this game.

The Typo:

This little bugger:

Some jackass forgot to write either the overbar or the period (or worse, both) over the R, which is apparently a big freaking deal due to rocket science being such a harsh mistress. Treat her right and she’ll send you soaring off to strange new worlds, but screw up once and she’ll slam a car door on your balls until they explode across eight states (in a bad way).


Ms. Rocket Science.

The Result:

Once it became clear that this software error had rendered Mariner 1 little more than an enormous Scud missile, NASA had no choice but to detonate the $80 million craft less than five minutes after launch.


Legend has it that Michael Bay was born at that exact moment.

Arthur C. Clarke famously described the missing overbar as “the most expensive hyphen in history,” which was made all the more costly due to it being $80 million back when a movie ticket cost less than a dollar.

#5.
Mizuho Securities Drops the Ball. Twice.

While suicide may seem a ready prescription in Japan for everything from bad test scores to sheer boredom, this begs the question as to what is considered excessive by Japanese standards. Like, say… what does the average Tokyo businessman do after costing his company almost as much money as it cost to make Titanic? In 24 hours?


Any good gambler knows you don’t quit while you’re losing. You let that bastard ride!

The Typo(s):

“Sorry son of a bitch” just doesn’t come close to describing the financial judgment day Mizuho Securities experienced on December 15, 2005. It all started when they debuted the now hilariously legendary job recruitment company J-Com Co. with the intention of offering it at 610,000 yen per share ($5,041). A typo pegged it significantly below that. At one yen per share.

While this was a disastrous enough move on its own to warrant seppuku, the shit-meter spiked to Battlefield Earth-levels once it was revealed that Mizuho Securities had also offered 41 times the number of J-Com Co. shares actually in existence. It’d be like you selling more than 40 times the number of copies of The Amazing Spider-Man #1 that were printed for less than a penny apiece on eBay… and being forced to back up your offer in yen for any dissatisfied customers.


A thousand nerds just passed out from that analogy.

The Result:

Since do-overs are not allowed in the Tokyo Stock Exchange, Mizuho Securities was forced to watch in horror (and likely with a gun on the table) as their company hemorrhaged millions over what for all we know was just a poorly-placed coffee cup. By the time this 24-hour snuff film was over, these twin typos cost Mizuho Securities $225 million.


Cheer up, guy who lost the new iPhone; it could have been worse.

#4.
The Real Bruce Wayne Sentenced to Death… Due to a Typo

Regardless of what you think about the death penalty, we are probably all in universal agreement that you really need to dot your I’s and cross your T’s when it comes to executions, especially when the dude they’re killing is named Bruce Wayne.


More or less, this happened.

The Typo:

In 1985, an extremely un-Batmanlike Bruce Wayne Morris was convicted of robbing and killing a man with a non-proverbial but deeply ironic stick and stone.

The time came for sentencing, and the jury had to decide between execution, or sticking the guy behind bars forever without any chance of going free. Seems pretty simple.

Well, it was, until the judge issued written instructions to the jury that an imprisoned Bruce Wayne would not have the possibility of making parole… and accidentally left the “not” part out. The jury, now mistakenly thinking that they had to pick between death and letting the dude maybe roam the streets again in a few years, picked death.

The Result:

It took more than 10 years and a freaking federal appeals court to reverse the decision on the grounds that the state of California was on the verge of executing Bruce Wayne due to a typo.


Not cool, California.

Of course, by then the trial had already gobbled up hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of tax-payer dollars that California could have been using to avoid going bankrupt with.

#3.
Bullshit Word Added to the English Language

Because English is a bit of an all-sorts language, you’ll find that it includes words from all sorts of crazy places (such as the now-treasured f-word). However, every now and then you will come across a word in the English dictionary whose etymology is not Greek or Latin, but freaking Typo. “Dord”, introduced to the world in 1931, is one of those words.


dord, n. [Typo.] Example: “Dord!”

The Typo:

This delightful word first surfaced in the Webster’s Third New International Dictionary as a noun in physics and chemistry meaning density. Since then, “dord” enjoyed a happy run throughout the cheerful years known as the 1930s until some editor noticed on February 28, 1939 (yes, we know the exact date) that the word lacked etymology (i.e. a back-story).


Doored.

After an extensive investigation by whom we can only assume were the Grammar Police, it was revealed that “dord” was originally submitted on July 31, 1931 by Austin M. Patterson, Webster’s chemistry editor (yes, we know all this information as well), to read “D or d,” an abbreviated form of density. But if the letters are squeezed a little too close together…

The Result:

For those of you keeping score, you may be surprised by the vast amount of information we have surrounding this typo right down to the day, month and year. How do we know all this? Simple: Do not screw with the Grammar Police, particularly the English ones.


Grammar Police. Coming soon from the makers of Snatch and Masterpiece Theater.

As for the pronunciation, they clearly pulled that out of their ass.

#2.
The Chilean Ex-Change

When the managing director at the Chilean Mint accidentally allowed a misprinted series of coins to enter circulation, it wasn’t something lame nobody would notice, like with the microscopic direction of the corn husks on the flawed Wisconsin state quarter. Similarly, it wasn’t something awesome that anybody would have bought him a beer with, like misprinted paper money .

No. In this case, engraver Pedro Urzua Lizana made a mistake in December of 2008 that slipped under the radar of all his superiors, including boss and head of the Chilean Mint Gregorio Iniguez. Under the approval of Lizana, Iniguez, and “several other employees,” the Chilean Mint misspelled the name of their own freaking country.


And not in the way you might think.

The Typo:


No, that’s not a lowercase L.

The Result:

God only knows how many of these “Chiie” coins were pumped into circulation, since it wasn’t until 10 months later that anybody noticed. The whole cabal was sacked for the humiliating oversight, and the Chilean government had no choice but to keep the coins in circulation.


In Gob We Trust.

However, those responsible may be crying all the way to the bank since the coins have since become sick collector’s items. Also, when you consider that these were 50-peso pieces that got misprinted (roughly 10 cents each), just a sock-full of these slugs on eBay would be worth more than a dump truck full of pennies.


Pictured: a dump truck full of pennies.

#1.
The Wicked Bible

While it’s no secret that the Bible has been subjected to more alterations than Star Wars, one needs look no further than the 1631 reprint of the King James Bible–better known as the Wicked Bible–for all the proof you need that God exists, and that He appears to have a decent sense of humor.

To reprint the King James Bible, royal printers Robert Barker and Martin Lucas had to arrange an exact duplicate of the original book and all its 1,189 chapters, 31,101 verses and 783,137 words like Mahershalalhashbaz just begging to be misspelled.

However, since book printing was on par with individually carving all the parts for an Oldsmobile out of walnut wood, they amazingly eked out only one major typo: a missing word in Exodus 20:14. Unfortunately, that one missing word out of the 783,137 others turned out to be kind of an important one.


“Eh. Close enough.”

The Typo:

Yup. “Thou shalt commit adultery.”

The Result:

Historians have yet to reach a consensus as to whether the typo is the reason for England’s larger than average population of complete bastards. What we do know is that King Charles I ordered the printers be stripped of their business license and fined 300 pounds for their hilarious oversight, or roughly all the money a person back then could make in a freaking lifetime. The King then ordered every existing copy of the offending book to be burned; an order carried out so thoroughly that today only 11 of the books exist.


Making it just slightly rarer than the original, grittier cut of Hop on Pop.

Karma comes around, however, and Charles I eventually became the first sitting king in English history to be put on trial for treason, and subsequently executed. Surprisingly this was not for taking away the country’s blank check to commit adultery.


It’s amazing they didn’t chop his head off three times just for this portrait.
Read more: The 7 Most Disastrous Typos Of All Time | Cracked.com http://www.cracked.com/article_18517_the-7-most-disastrous-typos-all-time_p2.html#ixzz1wTcgvPdY

What do “Pork”, “Mexico” and “Target” have in common?

 

Not a lot, you might think. But Homeland Security believes otherwise: these are just three of several hundred key words the federal government has identified and is using to monitor social and news media feeds and sites to detect possible terrorism, unfolding natural disasters and public health threats. The Huffington Post was one of the first to report on the publication of this Homeland Security manual back in February.

So when you’re next tucking into your hotdog, planning your trip to Cancun, or loading up your shopping basket in that place with the cute dog ads, think twice about Tweeting or posting this news in too much detail, unless you don’t mind being virtually watched (and you don’t feel guilty about sending the Feds on a wild pork chase). Sticks and stones may break our bones, but words are apparently here to protect us.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/02/24/homeland-security-manual_n_1299908.html

Homeland Security Manual Lists Government Key Words For Monitoring Social Media, News

Posted: 02/24/12 07:59 PM ET  |  Updated: 02/25/12 11:59 AM ET

Ever complain on Facebook that you were feeling “sick?” Told your friends to “watch” a certain TV show? Left a comment on a media website about government “pork?”

If you did any of those things, or tweeted about your recent vacation in “Mexico” or a shopping trip to “Target,” the Department of Homeland Security may have noticed.

In the latest revelation of how the federal government is monitoring social media and online news outlets, the Electronic Privacy Information Center has posted online a 2011 Department of Homeland Security manual that includes hundreds of key words (such as those above) and search terms used to detect possible terrorism, unfolding natural disasters and public health threats. The center, a privacy watchdog group, filed a Freedom of Information Act request and then sued to obtain the release of the documents.

The 39-page “Analyst’s Desktop Binder” used by the department’s National Operations Center includes no-brainer words like “”attack,” “epidemic” and “Al Qaeda” (with various spellings). But the list also includes words that can be interpreted as either menacing or innocent depending on the context, such as “exercise,” “drill,” “wave,” “initiative,” “relief” and “organization.”

These terms and others are “broad, vague and ambiguous” and include “vast amounts of First Amendment protected speech that is entirely unrelated to the Department of Homeland Security mission to protect the public against terrorism and disasters,” stated the Electronic Privacy Information Center in letter to the House Homeland Security Subcommittee on Counterterrorism and Intelligence.

The manual was released by the center a week after Homeland Security officials were grilled at a House hearing over other documents obtained through a Freedom of Information Act lawsuit that revealed analysts were scrutinizing online comments that “reflect adversely” on the federal government. Mary Ellen Callahan, the chief privacy officer for the Department of Homeland Security, and Richard Chavez, director for the National Operations Center, testified that the released documents were outdated and that social media was monitored strictly to provide situational awareness and not to police disparaging opinions about the federal government. On Friday, Homeland Security officials stuck by that testimony.

A senior Homeland Security official who spoke to The Huffington Post on Friday on condition of anonymity said the testimony of agency officials last week remains “accurate” and the manual “is a starting point, not the endgame” in maintaining situational awareness of natural and man-made threats. The official denied Electronic Privacy Information Center’s charge that the government is monitoring dissent. The manual’s instruction that analysts should identify “media reports that reflect adversely on DHS and response activities” was not aimed at silencing criticism but at spotting and addressing problems, she added.

Still, the agency agrees that the manual’s language is vague and in need of updating. For instance, under terrorism watchwords, the manual lists “Hamas” and “Hezbollah” but also the “Palestinian Liberation Organization.” The PLO was once considered a terrorist organization by the U.S. government but now that it has a diplomatic mission in Washington and its leader, Mahmoud Abbas, has met with presidents Bush and Obama, the inclusion of this term could be deemed questionable.

“To ensure clarity, as part of … routine compliance review, DHS will review the language contained in all materials to clearly and accurately convey the parameters and intention of the program,” agency spokesman Matthew Chandler told HuffPost.

The Huffington Post was given a sample of the social media nuggets and news reports picked up by Homeland Security analysts by using its watchword list. An internal report circulated by the agency on Feb. 17 to top officials indicated it had collected reports about everything from hotels in Nigeria increasing security as the terrorist group Boko Haram regroups to the arrest of a Bakersfield, Calif., teen in connection with a bomb plot. Other reports covered subjects including a multi-vehicle crash that resulted in the closing of I-85 in North Carolina, a norovirus outbreak at George Washington University, a suspicious package at an Alabama courthouse and an evacuation of a school in New York City’s Bronx boroughas a result of an unknown substance.

Read the Homeland Security manual here:

Analyst Desktop Binder_REDACTED

Watch a video of Rep. Patrick Meehan (R-Pa.), chairing a hearing of the House Homeland Security Subcommittee on Counterterrorism and Intelligence about the Department of Homeland Security’s monitoring of social media.

The Most Comma Mistakes, by Ben Yagoda

A must read …

Posted yesterday on the New York Times Opinionator blog.

http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/05/21/the-most-comma-mistakes/

May 21, 2012, 9:17 pm

The Most Comma Mistakes

By BEN YAGODA

Draft is a series about the art and craft of writing.

As I noted in my earlier article, rules and conventions about when to use and not to use commas are legion. But certain errors keep popping up. Here are a few of them.

Identification Crisis
If I’ve seen it once, I’ve seen it a thousand times. I’m referring to a student’s writing a sentence like:

I went to see the movie, “Midnight in Paris” with my friend, Jessie.

Comma after “movie,” comma after “friend” and, sometimes, comma after “Paris” as well. None is correct — unless “Midnight in Paris” is the only movie in the world and Jessie is the writer’s only friend. Otherwise, the punctuation should be:

I went to see the movie “Midnight in Paris” with my friend Jessie.

If that seems wrong or weird or anything short of clearly right, bear with me a minute and take a look at another correct sentence:

I went to see Woody Allen’s latest movie, “Midnight in Paris,” with my oldest friend, Jessie.

You need a comma after “movie” because this and only this is Mr. Allen’s newest movie in theaters, and after “Jessie” because she and only she is the writer’s oldest friend.

The syntactical situation I’m talking about is identifier-name. The basic idea is that if the name (in the above example, “Jessie”) is the only thing in the world described by the identifier (“my oldest friend”), use a comma before the name (and after it as well, unless you’ve come to the end of the sentence). If not, don’t use any commas.

Grammatically, there are various ways of describing what’s going on. One helpful set of terms is essential vs. nonessential. When the identifier makes sense in the sentence by itself, then the name is nonessential and you use a comma before it. Otherwise, no comma. That explains an exception to the only-thing-in-the-world rule: when the words “a,” “an” or “some,” or a number, come before the description or identification of a name, use a comma.

A Bronx plumber, Stanley Ianella, bought the winning lottery ticket.

When an identifier describes a unique person or thing and is preceded by “the” or a possessive, use a comma:

Baseball’s home run leader, Barry Bonds, will be eligible for the Hall of Fame next year.

My son, John, is awesome. (If you have just one son.)

But withhold the comma if not unique:

My son John is awesome. (If you have more than one son.)

The artist David Hockney is a master of color.

The celebrated British artist David Hockney is a master of color.

And even

The gay, bespectacled, celebrated British artist David Hockney is a master of color.

(Why are there commas after “gay” and “bespectacled” but not “celebrated”? Because “celebrated” and “British” are different sorts of adjectives. The sentence would not work if “and” were placed between them, or if their order were reversed.)

If nothing comes before the identification, don’t use a comma:

The defense team was led by the attorney Harold Cullen.

No one seems to have a problem with the idea that if the identification comes after the name, it should always be surrounded by commas:

Steve Meyerson, a local merchant, gave the keynote address.

However, my students, at least, often wrongly omit a “the” or an “a” in sentences of this type:

Jill Meyers, sophomore, is president of the sorority.

To keep the commas, it needs to be:

Jill Meyers, a sophomore, is president of the sorority.

Peter Arkle

The Case of the Missing Comma
A related issue is the epidemic of missing commas after parenthetical phrases or appositives — that is, self-enclosed material that’s within a sentence, but not essential to its meaning. The following sentences all lack a necessary comma. Can you spot where?

My father, who gave new meaning to the expression “hard working” never took a vacation.

He was born in Des Moines, Iowa in 1964.

Philip Roth, author of “Portnoy’s Complaint” and many other books is a perennial contender for the Nobel Prize.

If you said “working,” “Iowa” and “books,” give yourself full marks. I’m not sure why this particular mistake is so tempting. It may sometimes be because these phrases are so long that by the time we get to the end of them, we’ve forgotten about the first comma. In any case, a strategy to prevent it is to remember the acronym I.C.E. Whenever you find yourself using a comma before an Identification, Characterization or Explanation, remember that there has to be a comma after the I.C.E. as well.

Splice Girls, and Boys
“Comma splice” is a term used for the linking of two independent clauses — that is, grammatical units that contain a subject and a verb and could stand alone as sentences — with a comma. When I started teaching at the University of Delaware some years ago, I was positively gobsmacked by the multitude of comma splices that confronted me. They have not abated.

Here’s an example:

He used to be a moderate, now he’s a card-carrying Tea Partier.

It’s easy to fix in any number of ways:

He used to be a moderate. Now he’s a card-carrying Tea Partier.

He used to be a moderate; now he’s a card-carrying Tea Partier.

He used to be a moderate, but now he’s a card-carrying Tea Partier.

He used to be a moderate — now he’s a card-carrying Tea Partier.

How to choose among them? By reading aloud — always the best single piece of writing advice — and choosing the version that best suits the context, your style and your ear. I would go with the semicolon. How about you?

Two particular situations seem to bring out a lot of comma splices. The first is in quotations:

“The way they’ve been playing, the team will be lucky to survive the first round,” the coach said, “I’m just hoping someone gets a hot hand.”

The comma after “said” has to be replaced with a period.

The other issue is the word “however,” which more and more people seem to want to use as a conjunction, comparable to “but” or “yet.” So they will write something like:

The weather is great today, however it’s supposed to rain tomorrow.

That may be acceptable someday. Today, however, it’s a comma splice. Correct punctuation could be:

The weather is great today, but it’s supposed to rain tomorrow.

Or

The weather is great today. However, it’s supposed to rain tomorrow.

Comma splices can be O.K. when you’re dealing with short clauses where even a semicolon would slow things down too much:

I talked to John, John talked to Lisa.

Samuel Beckett was the poet laureate of the comma splice. He closed his novel “The Unnamable” with a long sentence that ends:

… perhaps it’s done already, perhaps they have said me already, perhaps they have carried me to the threshold of my story, before the door that opens on my story, that would surprise me, if it opens, it will be I, it will be the silence, where I am, I don’t know, I’ll never know, in the silence you don’t know, you must go on, I can’t go on, I’ll go on.

Which goes to show, I suppose, that rules are made to be broken.

Record-breaking words & tongues

Even the most unassuming words can be notable or heroic in their own way. Admit it: you love finding out which words take pride of place in the record books by dint of length or letter order.

And there are some languages, too, that are making their own claims to fame.  Can you guess any of them? (All answers – courtesy Guinness Word Records – are under the picture below.)

1. What is the longest word in the English language with only one vowel?

2. What is the longest English word with letters arranged in alphabetical order?

3.  What is the longest English word with letters arranged in reverse alphabetical order?

4.  What is the longest English word in which each letter occurs at least twice?

5.  What is the longest palindromic word (not necessarily in English)?

6.  What is the shortest word in the English language that contains all five main vowels? (my personal favorite)

7.  What is the most common language?

8.  What is the least common language?

9.  Which country has the most official languages?

10.  Which language has the longest alphabet?

11.  What is the most common language isolate (a spoken language that has no discernable origins or commonality with any other spoken language, either current or extinct)?

And finally, without moving too far away from the subject of words and tongues:

12.  What is the heaviest weight lifted by a human tongue?

 

 

Answers:

1.  strengths

2.  aegilops

3.  spoonfeed

4.  unprosperousness

5.  saippuakivikauppias (Finnish for a dealer in lye (caustic soda)) *

6.  eunoia

7.  The most common first language is Chinese, spoken by more than 1.1 billion people

8.  The Yaghan language is an indigenous language of Tierra del Fuego. The Yaghan are estimated to have numbered between 3,000 and 10,000 before Argentina and Chile began exploring Tierra del Fuego in the late nineteenth century. Disease, relocation and exploitation caused their population to collapse rapidly, to around 70 people in 1930. Today Cristina Calderón (born approximately 1938), is the only remaining native Yaghan speaker.

9.  The country with the most official languages is the Republic of South Africa with 11. These are: English, Afrikaans, isiZulu, isiXhosa, Sesotho, Setswana, Sepedi, Xitsonga, siSwati, isiNdebele and Tshivenda.

10.  The language with the most letters is Khmer (Cambodian), with 74 (including some without any current use).

11.  A language isolate is a spoken language which has no discernable origins or commonality with any other spoken language, either current or extinct. Basque is the most common, spoken by the Basque people of the Basque country, northern Spain/southern France. This language is spoken by around 600,000 people.

12.  The greatest weight lifted with a human tongue is 12.5 kg (27 lb 8.96 oz) by Thomas Blackthorne (UK) who lifted the weight hooked through his tongue on the set of El Show Olímpico, in Mexico City, Mexico, on 1 August 2008.

* Some baptismal fonts in Greece and Turkey bear the circular 25-letter inscription NIYON ANOMHMATA MH MONAN OYIN, meaning wash (my) sins, not only (my) face. This appears at St Marys Church, Nottingham, at St Pauls, Woldingham, Surrey and at other churches.

Tautologous pleonasms

Thanks, Mentalfloss, for this great list of pleonasms.

http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/126901 (see below)

My question is: what’s the difference between a pleonasm and a tautology? Well, a pleonasm is a case of more words being used than necessary; a tautology is using different words to say the same thing. Pleonasm: “a round circle”. Tautology: “he was born on the day of his birth”.

Mr. Jam addresses the tautology epidemic on his hilarious blog:

http://mrjam.typepad.com/diary/2011/02/epidemic-of-tautology-spreads.html

MENTALFLOSS

The word pleonasm describes phrases that use more words than necessary to get across a point. Sometimes a pleonasm is used for effect. Other times it’s just redundant. Here are some examples people use all the time. Add your own in the comments.

Neck image via Shutterstock

1. Nape of the neck. There’s only one nape, and it’s the back of your neck. It’s possible we get confused by the “scruffs” of animals’ necks since there are other scruffs out there. If you’re ever talking about a nape, though, you can drop “of the neck.”

2. False pretense. This is one we all should have known before. Although pretense technically means any “claim or implication,” the vast majority of the time, our usage of “pretense” already implies falsehood. For example: when’s the last time you thought something was both pretentious and genuine?

3. Frozen tundra. “Tundra” comes from the Russian word for Arctic steppes, and tundra is generally characterized by permafrost, frozen subsoil. Technically, there is non-frozen Alpine tundra, so-called from lack of vegetation, not temperature. Still, the vast majority of tundra is frozen. So, whether you’re talking about northern Siberia or poking fun at North Dakotan winters, this phrase is generally redundant.

4. Gnashing of teeth. This one is a symbol of frustration and suffering. But “to gnash” already means “to grind one’s teeth” and has meant that since the fifteenth century. If the only thing you can gnash is teeth, this little turn of phrase is pitch-perfect pleonasm.

5. Head honcho. “Honcho” is a relatively new addition to English, coming to us from Japanese around the time of World War II. In Japanese, hancho means “group leader,” so American servicemen picked the word up in normal conversation. However, since “honcho” (with the anglicized spelling) already means boss or leader, adding the head is just excessive.

6. Bleary-eyed. People wake up bleary-eyed every morning. People get bleary-eyed every day and fuel those 5-Hour Energy commercials. “Bleary” already means dulled or dimmed in vision. No other part of you can be bleary at all. Other things can be bleary, like a foggy mirror, but if you’re bleary, you don’t need to add the part about your eyes.

7. Veer off course. There’s no other place a person can veer. “Veer” means “to change direction” or “to go off course” no matter what. In fact, it’s meant that since at least the 1580s. Because the prepositional phrase is unnecessary, English speakers have probably been overstating their veers for centuries.

8. Safe haven. “Haven” is an old word. And several dictionaries still list its literal meaning first: “harbor” or “port.” But since the 13th century, English speakers have primarily used the figurative meaning: a place of safety and refuge. So, unless you’re telling someone about an especially non-threatening harbor, you can leave off the first part.

9. Ford a river. This one isn’t nearly as common as the others. But from time to time, one hears about fording a river. “Ford” as a verb means “to cross a river or stream” coming from the noun “ford” for a shallow place in the water. In theory, one could ford a lake, but no one ever says that.
* * *
Prepay in advance? Tired cliché? Give us your best pleonasms below.

Read the full text here: http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/126901#ixzz1v7x8nWIB
–brought to you by mental_floss!

 

Guess the contranyms (and the word with many meanings)

 

It’s a wonder that anyone learns English – with all its strange spellings and pronunciations that defy all the rules, and its huge vocabulary of words with multiple and subtle meanings – not to mention some regional accents that can make it almost impossible to decipher. (I’m a Brit, and I can’t understand a Glaswegian talking fast.)

And not helping the cause are those evil identical twins that can trip up even the natives: the confusing contranym. As defined by Wikipedia, this is a word with a homograph  (a word of the same spelling) that is also an antonym (a word with the opposite meaning). Incidentally, even the word contranym has at least three synonyms (“auto-antonym”, “antilogy” and “enantiodrome”), an alternative spelling (“contronym”), and a poetic nickname after a Roman god (“Janus word”); just as the Eskimos need lots of words for snow, so do we English-speakers need many words to name our many words … The only way of determining a contranym’s meaning at any given time is by its context: the more scant or murky the language surrounding it, the more likely it is to cause communication havoc. At least Mandarin gives its synonyms (and contranyms) musical clues (ie. different tones assigned to different meanings) to help move the conversation along; we Brits have to rely on our linguistic prowess to get our point across.

Below are some of the more common examples of contranyms. I thought of a slightly obscure one today that I had never realized before was a contranym (even though I’ve been using both meanings for as long as I can remember). Here’s a clue: the name of this blog …

And I wondered on a recent morning commute whether there’s another contranym coming down the pike: right now the second meaning is in its colloquial infancy, but I wouldn’t be surprised to see this definition getting a dictionary entry in the not-too-distant future. The clue for this word is what I was doing when I started wondering about it …

While we’re on the subject: when you suggest something to your teenager and she tells you she’s “down”, or that your idea is “sick”, rejoice! Contranym slang is the new teen-speak!

And finally, back to the words with many meanings: can you think of an English word that has up to 26 meanings as a verb (two of which are admittedly obsolete) and 29 meanings as a noun?

~~~~~~~~

bound (bound for Chicago, moving); bound (tied up, unable to move)

cleave (to cut apart); cleave (to seal together)

buckle (buckle your pants — to hold together); buckle (knees buckled — to collapse, fall apart)

citation (award for good behavior); citation (penalty for bad behavior)

clip (attach to); clip (cut off from, excerpt)

cut* (get into a line)  cut* (get out of a class)

dust (remove dust); dust (apply dust — fingerprints)

fast (moving rapidly); fast (fixed in position)

handicap (disability, disadvantage); handicap (advantage given to a competitor to equalize chances of winning)

left (remaining); left (having gone)

moot (arguable) ; moot (not worthy of argument, purely academic)

oversight (watchful control) ; oversight (something not noticed)

overlook (ignore, miss, fail to notice); overlook (look down upon, afford a view of)

 

* American usage

We like to like like Tina Charles loves to love

And I’m not, like, talking about kids who, like, can’t get through a sentence without, like, saying like. That scourge is so, like, 20th-century.

No, I’m talking about when the word like is used before a clause (as a conjunction).

The universally accepted and undisputed usage of like is as a preposition (ie. governing nouns and pronouns): “She looks like her daughter.” “He sounds like a bird.”

It’s when like is used as a conjunction (ie. connecting two clauses) that swords are drawn, tempers start to flare, and trans-Atlantic disagreement comes into play.  In the US, the colloquial use of like as a conjunction is now reasonably commonplace and accepted, especially when like simply replaces as (which more appropriately governs phrases and clauses). “We now have brunch every Sunday like we did in Sweden.” Such a sentence generally grates on English ears, which prefer, “We now have brunch every Sunday as we did in Sweden.”

Fowler, in his Modern English Usage, tackled this “most flagrant and easily recognizable misuse of like,” referring to the OED which similarly and roundly condemned the misuse as “vulgar or slovenly”.  The OED colorfully used a sentence written by Darwin (“Unfortunately few have observed like you have done”) to illustrate the abuse.

More egregious – and even more grating to British English speakers – is when like replaces as if or as though, masquerading even more  boldly as a conjunction. Fowler cites this lovely OED example: “The old fellow drank of the brandy like he was used to it.” Nowadays, the Oxford American Dictionary recognizes the “informal” usage of like as a conjunction to replace as; however, it clearly forbids using the word to mean as if or as though.

If you want to delve into the even more complicated arguments about the use and misuse of this overused word that we love to like (especially once we get into ‘disguised conjuntional use’, when there is no subordinate verb), Fowler’s your man.

Meanwhile, Strunk and White summarize the tussle over ‘like’ in their characteristically eloquent fashion, using it as a case study to argue more generally about the evolution of language:

“The use of like for as has its defenders; they argue that any usage that achieves currency becomes valid automatically. This, they say, is the way the language is formed. It is and it isn’t. An expression sometimes merely enjoys a vogue, much as an article of apparel does. Like has long been widely misused by the illiterate; lately it has been taken up by the knowing and the well-informed, who find it catchy, or liberating, and who use it as though they were slumming. If every word or device that achieved currency were immediately authenticated, simply on the ground of popularity, the language would be as chaotic as a ball game with no foul lines. For the student, perhaps the most useful thing to know about like is that most carefully edited publications regard its use before phrases and clauses as simple error.”