Language Rules

I haven’t heard this myself, but my friend Celeste has and it’s so hilarious it deserves a blog entry.

Apparently Celeste has heard people say, “It’s a mute point.”

That’s “mute” pronounced “mee-yoot” as in remaining silent.

The correct term is “moot point” and the correct first word, its spelling, and pronunciation is “moot.” Like adding T to the end of what a cow would say.

And what is meant by “moot point”? A moot point is one that need not be decided, due to a change of circumstances. Very interesting, because the word “moot” by itself means “debatable, or subject to discussion,” the opposite of its use in the legal context. The shift in usage is slowly happening, starting here in the United States.

But what’s this about a “mute point”? As Celeste reports to me, some people say this thinking it means, “Let’s put the mute button on and cease any discussion on this.”

Wouldn’t it be funny if the term evolves this way to become correct? After all, with the ubiquity of remote controls and mute buttons, a “mute point” may make more sense than a “moot point” to someone who’s not a lawyer.

For today, however, it’s wrong. Say “moot point” and try not to stick a “y” sound in there.

Here’s a nifty online quiz you can take to see how you stack up in the areas of grammar and word choice. It covers all the sorts of things that this blog talks about, and it makes crystal clear, yet again, the fact that English is a nightmare sort of language.

If you want to know how I did the quiz, you’ll have to go to the next page so I don’t give away any answers.

Read the rest of this entry »

Your ex has just posted a way snarky comment about you on MySpace. “Hah!” you type madly on your profile, “I could care less!”

You could? If you could care less, then that means you do care, because you are capable of caring less than you do now. After reading your response, your ex is undoubtedly smiling in that self-satisfied way that you despise.

If, however, you fire off a comment proclaiming “Listen, loser, I couldn’t care less,” then you’ve expressed your true feelings. You are incapable of caring less. The matter means nothing to you; you don’t care about it at all. Let’s just see if the one-who-must-not-be-named cares about that.

I came across a few great pieces on grammar this weekend. The first (thanks Director Spence) is an item from Wikipedia here on a very strange sentence, indeed: “Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo.” Amazing.

The second is an entire site, really, devoted to correcting grammar one topic at a time and comprised of consisting of a both a weblog and a podcast. It’s done by the talented Grammar Girl Mignon Fogarty, currently a science writer and formerly a mad scientist. Check it.

The third is an article by Bill Poser over at Lanuage Log on prescriptivism in grammar, the concept of telling people what grammar is right and what is wrong, a sort of anti-laissez-faire affair, which this weblog wholly and unfortunately propagates at times.

Why is [prescriptivism] bad? In part, it is bad because it falsely assumes the existence of a uniform and unchanging standard and thereby fails to recognize the naturalness of linguistic variation and change. Another reason it is bad is because it is frequently, though not always, based on bad descriptive linguistics. That is, the standard to which it appeals is frequently unreal. The putative standard may be an incorrect description of some previous stage of the language or even a mere figment of the imagination of the pundit, who has evidently not given much thought to the matter. Frequently, but again not always, prescriptive claims are based on unfounded claims for the superiority of the standard usage, e.g. that only the standard usage is “logical”.

Word. Bill continues:

Perhaps the worst thing about prescriptivism is that it is frequently a device for demonstrating the superiority of the pundit and his or her favorite class of people over everyone else. It feeds discrimination, particularly classism. The standards to which pundits appeal are invariably those of a socioeconomic elite. The standard tends to combine their natural speech with details that one can only acquire by means of extensive education.

Again, word. But, I’d like to take this opportunity to stress again, like we’ve done over in our About page, that we’re (mostly) no expert on grammar, and we certainly aren’t doing this to promote ourselves or our knowledge. Instead, we hope that this can be a helpful resource for those who are simply interested in or confused about common grammar rules and how to use them.

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Close proximity isn’t an oxymoron because it isn’t composed of incongruous elements. It isn’t a double-negative because, well, that’s obvious. Proximity means close, so it’s like saying something is close close to something else. Likewise, it would be like saying something is close adjacent to something else. In other words, close proximity is redundant; it’s an example of a superfluous statement.

This team is huddled together.

What are some other common adjectival redundancies in the English language?

• advance planning
• end product, result
• first priority
• general rule
• hot-water heater
• integral part
• major breakthrough
• new beginning
• past history
• root cause
• separate entities
• temporary reprieve
• total annihilation, destruction

Nouns can also be redundant too:

• doctorate degree
• undergraduate student
• weather conditions (We’d better have a talk with those weather reporters!)

In addition, prepositions or adverbs used as part of verbs can be redundant also:

• gather up
• hurry up
• join together
• made out of

And, finally, the following are some common phrases that are superfluous:

• appear to be
• as to whether
• as yet
• commute to and from
• dates back from
• eliminate altogether
• every now and then
• frown, smile on her face
• last of all
• over and done with
• shuttle back and forth

Man, this is embarrassing! These examples are so commonly used. I know I’ve used some of them regularly. Alas. Oh well.

First, let’s look at the verb form of these two terms:

Affect: transitive verb
to influence, pretend, feign,

Effect: transitive verb
to accomplish, complete, bring about, to cause to come into being, to achieve a final result

You affect indifference, and I get really peeved. Here, you are pretending you don’t care (very irritating indeed).

My new boss hopes to effect a peace settlement among my rivaling colleagues. She will do everything she can to bring about peace in the office.

And now the noun form of both words:

Affect: noun (uncommon)
feeling, affection

Effect: noun (common)
intent, appearance, accomplishment, something that follows an antecedent (as a cause or agent); also: goods

Lindsay’s flat affect is not surprising when you take into account her PTSD. Lindsay is feeling numb after witnessing the armed robbery.

The effect of Jeff’s feigned indifference was that Ellyn withdrew. The result of Jeff’s acting like he didn’t care was that Ellyn withdrew.

The police officer returned her personal effects (goods) to her once the charges were dropped.

Also consider these other uses of effect:

The couple decided to in effect (in substance, virtually) drop all arguments over custody for the sake of their daughter.

The new law takes effect (goes into operation) immediately.

The pyrotechnics of Thunder Over Louisville are a fabulous example of special effects (something designed to produce a distinctive or desired impression — usually used in plural).

I received a glossy full-color advertisement in the mail a couple of days ago proclaiming something to the effect that “our researchers have poured over millions of pages to bring you this incredible find.”

Really? What did they pour over the pages? Maple syrup, maybe, or transmission fluid, or shampoo?

The researchers didn’t pour: They pored. But wait, you say. A pore is a little bitty hole in something, like the pores in your skin that pour out sweat when you play tennis. Surely the researchers weren’t poking holes in their books, so that can’t be right.

Yes, it is. The verb form of pore means “to scrutinize,” or “to read or study intently.” It’s always used with the word over. So:

“Pinky poured fuel oil and fertilizer into the giant bomb while the Brain pored over the final adjustments to the timing mechanism.”

“As Scarlett poured herself into her red dress and Rhett poured champagne, they silently pored over their very different visions of the future.”

Here’s a tricky one: In the possessive form, when do you put the apostrophe before the “s,” when do you put it after the “s,” and when do you not put it anywhere? (Okay, the third one is a trick question. You always need an apostrophe to show the possessive form.)

The apostrophe comes before the “s” if the possessor to which you are referring is singular. Thus, “my girlfriend’s parents’ dogs” refers to the two or more dogs belonging to the two or more parents of my one girlfriend. Had I said “my girlfriends’ parent’s dogs,” I would of course be referring to the two or more dogs belonging to the singular parent of my multiple girlfriends, who must in this case be sisters (sweet(!), but likely very tricky to pull off) and the daughters of a single parent.

The precise numerical status of the possession of which the possessor is in possession does not matter in the least. Put as if I were writing like a normal person speaking English more simply, the fact that the “dogs” in this case are more than one doesn’t matter. If I were referring only to one dog, “girlfriend’s” and “parents’” and their associated apostrophe positioning would stay exactly the same. To give a few more examples,

Holly’s computer refers to the one computer of Holly
Holly’s computers refers to the two or more computers of Holly
The apostrophe here stays exactly the same because Holly is still just one person.

my cat’s toy refers to the one toy belonging to my one cat
my cat’s toys refers to the two or more toys belonging to my one cat
my cats’ toy refers to the one toy that my two or more cats share
my cats’ toys refers to the two or more toys that my two or more cats share
Notice here that number of toys belonging to my cat(s) doesn’t affect where the apostrophe is placed; only the number of cats I have, whether it’s one or more than one, affects the position of the apostrophe.

If I see one more ad for “Pats Pizza” or “Shoe’s On Sale!” or “Come See Our Price’s!” I think I’m gonna hurl.

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Okay, I’ll give this one a go…

Who/whoever and whom/whomever correspond to he and him.

If you’re wondering whether to send his friend Al or him, you would write,

“Whom shall I send?” (“Whom” is the object of the verb “send.”) You can remember this example because if you were talking about Al, you would say, “I shall send him.”

Likewise, if you’re not sure who you want to send, you would write,

“Whoever is interested in going,” just like you would write, “He is interested in going.”

Another way to look at this quandary is this (as described in the third edition of Words Into Type): “Whom” is often misused for “who” because we don’t realize that “whom” (the relative pronoun) is the subject of the verb that follows it, not the object of the preceding preposition or verb. Therefore,

She gave her opinion to whoever asked for it. (subject of the verb “asked”)

However, the following is also correct:

“To whom are you referring?” (object of the preposition “to”)

Finally,

“Who is going to finish first?” is correct because “who” is the subject of the sentence.

The AP Stylebook is even clearer in its description of who versus whom. ‘Who” is the subject—never the object—of a sentence, clause, or phrase. “Whom” is the object of a verb or preposition.

Make sense?

I’m going to keep this short and sweet. “Alot” is simply not a word. In fact, it is two words errantly joined together by a space that is missing and sorely needed.

A lot. Say it with me. “A lot.” There is absolutely no situation in which the “word” “alot” should be used, regardless of the context. It is never, ever correct, and it is always, always wrong a typo. “A lot” can mean many, many things, but in every single instance, it should be written as two separate words.

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I have a favorite childhood memory where I don’t remember the details, but I’ve always recalled the lesson. My dad and I were standing in front of the movie theater box office. I couldn’t have been more than 10 years old. My sisters and my mom were at the parking lot across the street. I raised my voice and waved to them so they could see us in the crowd.

“Go here!” I said.

My dad said to me, “That’s not right. It’s ‘come here.’ They’re over there and they have to come here. Or you go there.”

I was embarrassed that I had shouted some bad grammar for people around to hear.

“Come here!” I called out. (I must’ve always liked to edit myself.)

And from that simple exchange, somehow my dad burned in my mind that the point of reference for using these two verbs is yourself. Others come toward you, whether they cross a physical distance or decide to join you or your group. Conversely, you go to them.

Are you coming with us as we go to the movie?

People are often confused by whether to use “fewer” versus “less” when trying to describe the relative amounts or degrees of things. Here’s a brief explanation.

“Fewer” should be used when the things you are describing are able to be counted. “Less” is used when is describes an adjective or when it is referring to something that is not countable; it is used to describe abstract or imprecise things like time, speed, quality, etc. For example,

Harry’s bike’s top speed is less than Meredith’s bike’s top speed.
Harry’s bike has fewer speeds than Meredith’s bike has.
Speed, when not quantified, is not a countable thing. Speeds, however, as in the gears on a bike, are able to be counted, so “fewer” is appropriate in the second sentence.

When Elizabeth complained that she had less candy than Frank had, he gave her some of his.
When Elizabeth complained that she had fewer jelly beans than Frank had, he gave her some of his.
Candy, as an isolated object, it not countable; jelly beans are.

I bet I slept for less time than you did last night.
I bet I slept fewer hours than you did last night.
I bet you woke up fewer times last night than I did.
Time is an abstract thing here, similar to the example of speed above, whereas times, as in events or episodes, are not abstract things. Hours, too, are distinct, countable units.

John is less outgoing than Jim.
John has fewer sociable characteristics than Jim.
“Less” is used in the first sentence here because it is describing an adjective, “outgoing,” and because one’s degree of outgoingness cannot be counted. Characteristics, on the other hand, are certainly countable.

A good rule of thumb, while certainly not hard and fast, is to look at what you’re referring to; if it’s singular, use “less;” if it’s plural, use “fewer.”

Blogged with Flock

Last week I decided to clean out one corner of the basement by giving away about 200 excess cookbooks I’ve accumulated from auction purchases over the years. Toward that end, I sent a message out to the local Freecycle group, offering cookbooks to all interested parties. Several of the messages I received in reply were written along these lines:

“i’d like 2 have some of ur books, tx 4 the offer, i cn b by 2 pick thm up 2day”

I have a teenage daughter, so I’m fully acquainted with IM-speak, which is meant to be typed quickly and to look cool as well as to communicate. And, as a sender of cell-phone text messages, I can appreciate the need to abbreviate on occasion.

But my tolerance wanes when we’re talking about e-mail messages — particularly those intended to transact personal business or communicate about work issues. Maybe it’s just me, and I’m showing my 40-somethingness, but I didn’t feel that the above sorts of responses were appropriate to the situation. Perhaps it was the fact that these answers didn’t match the tone in which I made my offer. Had my message said

“hey, freecyclers, i’ve got 2 many kool cookbooks & want 2 share with u”

then sure, I’d expect something similar from respondents. But my message didn’t resemble that in the slightest.

I’m concerned that young people may be so immersed in IM-speak that they’re letting it color the style they use for other communication. Like it or not, at some point, they’ll need to write serious, formal letters and/or e-mail messages to coworkers, potential employers, and others, and I’m afraid they won’t know how.

Just for the heck of it, I wrote the following pretend letter:

Dear Alphonse:

I’m writing to express my pleasure at seeing you recently. Our conversation was most enjoyable, and I hope we’ll be able to get together for lunch some day soon. You can reach me by e-mail or phone. Please give my best to Prudence.

Sincerely,

Tiffany

Then, I asked my daughter to translate it (with a certain amount of license) into IM-speak. Here’s her version:

hey a – that waz kool I got 2 meet u ur kool 2 talk 2 n mby we can go 2 the moviez some time. u should call me to msg me. who r u friends w/on myspace? send me a friend request, k? tell Prudy I said hey. ttyl lyl <3 TiFfANy

She assures me that she knows the difference between “correct” writing and the sort of writing that’s appropriate for informal situations, and I believe she does. But she gets almost no practice with formal letters — especially those written on paper and sent by snail mail. Many kids never have these kinds of conversations with their parents and may never receive any instruction in the finely tuned variations of written interpersonal communication.

When today’s teenagers become tomorrow’s employees, and they dash off a quick e-mail to the boss without enough thought or respond to a job interview with an inappropriately casual note, will they understand why the response is negative? I don’t think so. But at least they cn IM thr frnds & tlk about how OMG the boss iz a lzer.

We live in a fast-paced world, and sometimes it seems that our speech cannot quite keep up – with words pronounced in the easiest way rather than articulated thoughtfully.  There is a distinct difference between nuclear and nucular, and yet we understand when we hear.  What do we think of the person uttering the second, though?  I know just what I think of Homer Simpson, and I won’t debase our fine blog with those thoughts, although those who put the words into his mouth may have their finger right on the pulse. 

And sometimes I think if someone with enough “je ne sais quoi” (… social status, is that the phrase?) says something in a particular way, we all want to copy, be just the same, just as trendy or just as powerful. 

Is that why so many people seem to be saying “intregal” rather than “integral”?

I’m not sure if I can explain this well, but I’ll give it a shot. “Between” and “among” are used in specific situations. “Between” is correctly used when there are only two things referenced. For example,

I can’t decide between the flavors.
The above implies there are only two ice cream flavors to choose from.

I can’t decide among the flavors.
This means there are more than two flavors available.

Here’s a way to remember which word to use. Remember the phrase “just between you and me.” There are only two people involved so you use the word “between.” You can also look at the letters “tw” in the middle as a reminder that the word “two” starts with “tw” as well.

If you’re talking about more than two subjects or objects, use the word “among.”

You know the joke, “Just between you and me and the lamppost”? It’s trying to make a humorous point that the secret will remain secret. If you know the difference between “between” and “among,” you can get the linguistic level of the joke, too.

This is a big one. I see this mistake all the time, way more than would typically be expected from typos alone.

“To” is one of the more widely used words in the English language and has eight million several different definitions and parts of speech. In its most common contexts, it is used as part of infinitive verb phrases, such as in “to eat” or “to go,” and as a preposition with widespread connotations, such as in “Let’s go to the store,” “Give it to me,” “The Cubs are down 84 to 11 to the Pirates,” or “To this day, I hate mushrooms.” Think of it as the default of the two.

“Too,” on the other hand, is different. It can mean “in addition,” as in “I want to go, too!” or “You two hate to eat mushrooms and onions, too,” or can refer to excess or degree, as in “You are too funny!” “I drank too much last night,” or “Tom wasn’t too amused by Hannah’s theatrics.”

“Two” is simply the number 2, exclusively. (On a related note, in formal writing, numbers between 0-10 (some say 0-9, but it’s a typically a matter of preference) should be written out, as in “I have two siblings,” “There is zero doubt in my mind,” or “I was ten-and-a-half when the younger of the two was born,” while larger numbers are typically written in numerical format, as in “There are 8,459 other things I should be doing right now,” or “Dude, I like totally drank like 12 beers last weekend.”)

When in doubt, use “to,” but remember that if you’re meaning to say “in addition” or “to an excessive degree,” use “too.” If you’re referring to a numerical amount, use “two.”

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I came across this witty and thoughtful essay by an professor in language and linguistics, the author of several such works on the English language and its nature in American society, at my former institution of higher education regarding perspectives on language of varying dialects, origins, and, shall we say, “prescriptive correctness.” His view, like many others’, including even mine, is that grammar that seems improper, and language that seems incorrect, are forms of grammar and of language nonetheless and should be seen as acceptable, not as an indication that the knowledge of language has diminished to any discernable degree. He further refutes any opinions to the contrary:

“The use of non-standard English is often incorrectly linked to a decline in intellectual standards. Unbending supporters of standard English insist that without enforced measures of correctness, language will decay, communication will break down, and civilization as we know it will disappear. Literacy, already imperiled, will deteriorate even further. And scores on standardized tests will plummet.

“But, although warnings that linguistic diversity will produce cultural decay have been bandied about for centuries now, variety in language is a sign of health rather than disease. Language dies not when it is misused, but when it is silenced. It is more likely that English will meet its end through the inappropriate splitting of atoms, not infinitives; through international discord, not subject-verb disagreements.”

Touché. What annoys me, though, and what probably similarly annoys most other folks who remotely care about these sorts of things, is not in the least linguistic diversity but precisely decaying language. To me, there needs to be a distinction between variance in usage of English for purposeful reasons versus accidental reasons. I don’t think anyone would argue that the author of an essay riddled with grammatical and orthographic mistakes is simply expressing his or her linguistic diversity; rather, the argument would likely be that he or she doesn’t know the guidelines of the language very well.

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I know this is a blog about language and words and grammar and all that stuff, and that Roman numerals are, well, numerical, but this is just too pathetic to pass on passing on.

Proofreaders at the University of Florida appear to have failed the Pepsi challenge.

UF has called off a massive giveaway of Gator T-shirts, paid for by Pepsi, upon realizing that Roman numerals intended to denote the year”2006″ on the shirts actually translated into “26″ in standard Arabic numerals.

“The giveaway was halted,” said Mike Hill, UF’s associate athletics director for external affairs. “We identified the problem on the first day of distribution and the giveaway was halted.”

The T-shirts, distributed to about 4,000 students picking up football tickets Tuesday, were also scrutinized by Pepsi proofreaders before distribution. Neither party noticed the problem initially, but staff distributing the shirts and the students who received them discovered the error Tuesday, Hill said.

To denote the year 2006, the shirts should have featured the numerals “MMVI,” not “XXVI.”

[Thanks Dr. Free-Ride.]

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Do you brush your teeth everyday? No, you don’t; you brush them every day. (At least, I hope you do.)

Everyday (compound word with no space) is an adjective meaning “commonplace” or “ordinary.”

Every day (space between the words) is an adverbial phrase meaning “each day without exception.”

So:

“Anika wore her everyday fishnets to the concert, because there would be no mosh pit.”

“Every day, when Tommy fed his Venus flytraps, he had to catch a new supply of insects.”

I must admit it; I am an idiot!

A fellow editor pointed out to me that I had misused the words “a lot,” mistakenly writing them as one word, “alot.”

To help you save face, just know that “alot” is not even a word! “A lot,” (two words) means “many.” For example:

When her divorce was final, she came into a lot of money.

You can add an adjective to it, as in “a sizeable lot of money.”

“Allot” is something completely different. According to Merriam-Webster OnLine, allot is a transitive verb meaning:

1 : to assign as a share or portion
2 : to distribute by or as if by lot

So, you would say

To nip any arguments between her children in the bud, she allotted each exactly $2.00 to spend at the movies.

and

To accommodate as many fans as possible, the University of Louisville allotted only a handful of seats to the press for the big UofL vs. UK football game Sunday night.

I have written a lot and now must allot some time for my studies. :)