<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509441467790544667</id><updated>2012-02-16T18:00:42.515-08:00</updated><category term='civility'/><category term='pm forni'/><category term='narcissism'/><category term='english language usage linguistics'/><title type='text'>tongue on wry</title><subtitle type='html'>a blog about English language usage and digressions therefrom</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tongueonwry.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/509441467790544667/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tongueonwry.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>kitty literate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00631606022575100129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>7</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509441467790544667.post-8970917945374388168</id><published>2008-07-04T18:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T18:11:16.666-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hung Like a Horse</title><content type='html'>(originally posted 9 June 08 and modified 4 July 08)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I have your attention, I’m sorry to disappoint you.  This posting will not feature photos of men with large genitalia.  Nor, however, does my title to refer to the bizarre and little-known punishment, confined it seems to Mel Brooks’ vision of the old American West, of hanging a horse for being a man thief.  For that, you see, the phrase would be “hanged like a horse,” which is, my friends, the point of this posting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feeling a bit hazy?  Don’t worry—you’re in good company.  It seems that even the most literate of us kitties has trouble remembering that when a human being (or, presumably, another animal subjected to capital punishment or accidental death) is the object of “hang,” the proper past tense form of the verb is “hanged.”  When is the last time you heard someone say, “He hanged himself”?  Assuming you don’t work at a suicide crisis center, probably a while.   But I bet you’ve heard “he hung himself” a time or three lately, nicht wahr?   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps you feel this distinction is too trivial to merit mention.  I admit that I do not have my usual reaction of gagging followed by a discrete spewing of projectile vomit when the humans of my acquaintance or in the media or both fail to make it.  Yet I must fight against the slippery slope, that muddy slide that has brought us such indignities as “infer” for “imply,” “nutritional” for “nutritious,” and “paternalistic” for “paternal.”  I mean, it’s bad enough to be accused of expending your energy reading another person’s mind when you are in fact using that precious commodity to convey, tacitly, some unpalatable fact or opinion.   Perhaps Martin Buber’s formulation will help:  I imply; thou infers.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, it’s far worse to be told that a particular food is merely “nutritional,” i.e. that it is food, when it is in fact packed with vitamins, minerals, meat, vegetables, and flavonoids.  Ditto for “paternalistic”:  “Paternal” is a beautiful word with a beautiful meaning; the –istic suffix is there to turn it into a distortion.  Please let’s not lose that rather large distinction between fatherly and chauvinistically authoritarian.  (Funny how you never hear “maternalistic.”  Hmmm…  I’ll let the feminists chew on that one.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of chewing, it’s time for my dinner.  Meowlicious AND nutritious!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/509441467790544667-8970917945374388168?l=tongueonwry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tongueonwry.blogspot.com/feeds/8970917945374388168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=509441467790544667&amp;postID=8970917945374388168' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/509441467790544667/posts/default/8970917945374388168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/509441467790544667/posts/default/8970917945374388168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tongueonwry.blogspot.com/2008/07/hung-like-horse.html' title='Hung Like a Horse'/><author><name>kitty literate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00631606022575100129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509441467790544667.post-4147057791447840517</id><published>2008-06-19T17:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T17:05:36.626-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pm forni'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='narcissism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='civility'/><title type='text'>con ammirazione, Professore</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Miss Kitty Literate purrs with pleasure at many things:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;among them elegant use of language, a song well sung, prolonged massages, and the commentary of Pier Massimo Forni, professor of Romance Languages at &lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;st1:placename&gt;Johns&lt;/st1:PlaceName&gt;  &lt;st1:placename&gt;Hopkins&lt;/st1:PlaceName&gt; &lt;st1:placetype&gt;University&lt;/st1:PlaceType&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Besides being Italian and thus a superior life form, Professor Forni directs The Civility Initiative at &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Hopkins&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; (&lt;a href="http://web.jhu.edu/civility"&gt;http://web.jhu.edu/civility&lt;/a&gt;).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;His latest book, &lt;u&gt;The Civility Solution:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;What to do When People are Rude, &lt;/u&gt;continues to develop his theme of the connections among civility, ethics, and quality of life, with a bit of psychoneuroimmunology added for good measure.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Last week, as I listened to the admirable Dr. Forni discuss his book with Diane Riehm, I was delighted to hear him cite “oversized portions of self-esteem” as one reason for the current crop of astonishingly rude people inhabiting every corner of society.&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;And, as I pondered the linguistic implications of our cultural overemphasis on self-esteem at the expense of humility, and on entitlement rather than earned self-confidence, a cockroach of a sentence skittered across my consciousness: &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;“Are you okay with that?”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sounds harmless, doesn’t it?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But listen and look again.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Look at the subject. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Remember when the standard question was “Is that okay with you?”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There is a world of difference in the reversal of subject and prepositional object, my friends.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In the former case, the emphasis is on whatever you are asking the person to comment upon—a plan, a choice of restaurant, a wedding date, maybe even a situation requiring acceptance of a bitter reality.&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;In the latter, you (or I) become the center of attention.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The sentence morphs into an extension of “are you okay?”, an inquiry into a person’s state of being, not his or her opinion or reaction.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Thus, with a simple switch of parts of speech, we have fallen into Narcissus’s pond, where nothing really matters but one’s own reflection.&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;Such a construction is not only narcissistic, it also gives off the nostril-curling odor of victimization. &lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Hmmm… narcissism and victimization—is it any wonder that such pervasive values turn up in the seemingly most innocuous turns of phrase?&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So, please, dear readers, do yourselves a favor and return to the older construction, the one that puts you at a prepositional remove from the matter at hand.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Not only does it sound better, it will make you feel better, for wouldn’t you rather toss off a jaunty or pointed “It’s (not) okay with me” than a cringing or wingeing, “I’m (not) okay with that”?&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And if you think I’m picking the fly shit out of the pepper, then please feel free to express yourself, as the exquisitely polite Professor Forni puts it, through the art of finger puppetry.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/509441467790544667-4147057791447840517?l=tongueonwry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tongueonwry.blogspot.com/feeds/4147057791447840517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=509441467790544667&amp;postID=4147057791447840517' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/509441467790544667/posts/default/4147057791447840517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/509441467790544667/posts/default/4147057791447840517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tongueonwry.blogspot.com/2008/06/con-ammirazione-professore.html' title='con ammirazione, Professore'/><author><name>kitty literate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00631606022575100129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509441467790544667.post-6919444674883140772</id><published>2008-05-19T16:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T16:32:08.256-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Say No</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I live in &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Baltimore&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; so seeing people on the street talking to themselves is no big deal.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;About five years ago, however, I began to notice that an increasing number of these chatty, gesticulating individuals were not the familiar ambulatory schizophrenics of my home town.  They were actually talking on cell phones through their Blue Tooth ear appurtenances.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I don’t know why, but discovering this freaked me out way more than if I had overheard them receiving direct instructions from God or Mr. Scratch to do something that would not redound to the public good.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;Of course today I’m quite used to it, except for the occasional double-take to make sure that I hadn’t just brushed by a member of the Borg Collective.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;(In some cases, I’m still not sure.)&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The point is, I have adapted to this sea change in social behavior. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;Ah, yes.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Adapt or perish.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Acceptance brings peace.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But you know what?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There are some things in the linguistic arena that Miss Kitty Literate will never adapt to or accept.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Among them:&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;Customer as “guest.” &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;“Will one of our sales associates please assist this guest with his/her concern before he/she shoots up all the plate glass in the store?”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Even better, replacing “patient” with guest”:&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;“Please enjoy the complimentary sepsis that comes with your post-op recovery.”&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;Impact&lt;/b&gt; as a verb was bad enough, but now it’s become an adjective.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;An impactful event!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Besides bringing to mind excruciating dental or proctologic pain, this one is on the short list for ugliest word ever.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;Skill set&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;“Mommy, did you throw away my skill set with my blankie?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After I finish processing what you did, I’m sure I’ll hate you.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;No doubt one of my &lt;b style=""&gt;core competencies*&lt;/b&gt; when I grow up will be around misogyny.”&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;Process/Grow&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This is quite a pair. Remember when food, data, and hair were the main things processed?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Now that it refers to sentient beings digesting, reflecting upon, breaking down, working out, and all those other near-obsolete descriptive phrases, I guess we’re simply living out all those visions of the future in which humans grow more robotic.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Wait, did I just use “grow” in connection with the natural world?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;What with everyone running around growing their businesses, their social networks, and their skill sets, what’s left for poor old hair and food, not to mention height and gardens?&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;(Okay, I’ll make an exception for crystals.)&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;I won’t even discuss &lt;b style=""&gt;disinterested&lt;/b&gt; and &lt;b style=""&gt;less v. fewer.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s too painful.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;And so here I am:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;a lone voice purring in the wilderness.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If you ever hear me use any of the examples above, skin me.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Alive.&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;*&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Credit for this one goes to my friend and recovering communication consultant Geary Cogsnest.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/509441467790544667-6919444674883140772?l=tongueonwry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tongueonwry.blogspot.com/feeds/6919444674883140772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=509441467790544667&amp;postID=6919444674883140772' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/509441467790544667/posts/default/6919444674883140772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/509441467790544667/posts/default/6919444674883140772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tongueonwry.blogspot.com/2008/05/just-say-no.html' title='Just Say No'/><author><name>kitty literate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00631606022575100129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509441467790544667.post-8079780642882683290</id><published>2008-05-14T09:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T09:38:18.902-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Around the Bend</title><content type='html'>&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Lately as I listen to the daily babble I am put in mind of the Fats Waller song “Don’t Get Around Much Anymore.”  Well, it seems that now we’re getting around way too much.  “Around,” which started life as a perfectly respectable preposition and then for some reason known only to “educators” and social workers began to engulf and devour “about,” now threatens to obliterate an entire lexical population.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;    &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;In just the past few days, I have heard or had reported to me the following.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Dave’s point seems to be around governance.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“There was an analysis done around this.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“&lt;st1:place&gt;Bali&lt;/st1:place&gt; will customize an exercise plan around your goals.”&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;As they say in the military, Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Okay, let’s take them one at a time:&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;1. Around governance.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This is the classic case, a substitution of around for about.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The dictionary does say that among its many meanings, “around” can be equated to “about.”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So you could just chalk this up to linguistic drift, the tendency of idioms to shift slightly over time.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Even if you find the substitution ugly to the ear, as I do, you might just have to, well, work around it.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;2.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Analysis done around this.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;No, no, no!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s one thing to substitute one word for another while preserving the meaning.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s quite another to use that same word to fog up the windshield.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Exactly how do you do an analysis “around” something?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Do you put the thing in the center of the room and then have a group of analysts do the hora?&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;I have but one little word for you my friends, “Of.”&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;3.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Plan around your goals.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This is my favorite.&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;Don’t plan to reach your goals, plan around them!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Then you’ll never have to reach them, and as we (including Bali Total Fitness?) know, when it comes to exercise, most of us never do.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;To continue that thought, are we just talking laziness here?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Does it take too much energy to come up with prepositional phrases that actually describe what you’re talking about?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Or is it a contagion?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I don’t know.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’ll have to think around it.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/509441467790544667-8079780642882683290?l=tongueonwry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tongueonwry.blogspot.com/feeds/8079780642882683290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=509441467790544667&amp;postID=8079780642882683290' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/509441467790544667/posts/default/8079780642882683290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/509441467790544667/posts/default/8079780642882683290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tongueonwry.blogspot.com/2008/05/around-bend.html' title='Around the Bend'/><author><name>kitty literate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00631606022575100129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509441467790544667.post-7214643469610519444</id><published>2008-05-09T12:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-09T12:38:24.729-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Brother Rat</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;A total digression:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Today on Radio Lab, a science show on my public radio station, they profiled a researcher who discovered that rats laugh when they play and when they are tickled by humans.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Incredulity on the part of the hosts ran through the piece.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Why?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Why are human animals so stupid about other animals?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Of course rats laugh!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Why wouldn’t they?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;(Though lab rats don’t have a whole lot to laugh about, which does make it kind of incredible that they still do.)&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Sorry, Aristotle and all other dominionists, we are no closer to the angels than any given mirthful rodent.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/509441467790544667-7214643469610519444?l=tongueonwry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tongueonwry.blogspot.com/feeds/7214643469610519444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=509441467790544667&amp;postID=7214643469610519444' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/509441467790544667/posts/default/7214643469610519444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/509441467790544667/posts/default/7214643469610519444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tongueonwry.blogspot.com/2008/05/brother-rat.html' title='Brother Rat'/><author><name>kitty literate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00631606022575100129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509441467790544667.post-7689113818712022557</id><published>2008-04-28T19:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T19:56:47.178-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It Started with Cigarettes, Take Two</title><content type='html'>Hi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you read the first blog you'll see a reference at the end to "hold your tongue," which was the old name of the blog.  It turns out that someone else has a blog of the same name; hence the change.  So the title goes, but the sentiment stays the same.   Sorry for the confusion!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/509441467790544667-7689113818712022557?l=tongueonwry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tongueonwry.blogspot.com/feeds/7689113818712022557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=509441467790544667&amp;postID=7689113818712022557' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/509441467790544667/posts/default/7689113818712022557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/509441467790544667/posts/default/7689113818712022557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tongueonwry.blogspot.com/2008/04/it-started-with-cigarettes-take-two.html' title='It Started with Cigarettes, Take Two'/><author><name>kitty literate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00631606022575100129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509441467790544667.post-8878360230852740145</id><published>2008-04-28T19:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T19:41:40.958-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='english language usage linguistics'/><title type='text'>It Started with Cigarettes</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Hi.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m Kitty Literate and I have a language problem.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;It all started, as most problems do, in my childhood.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was watching the old black-and-white and enjoying the cigarette and liquor commercials when I noticed something wrong with a particular slogan: “Winston Tastes Good Like a Cigarette Should.”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Something felt not…quite…right.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Was it some highly precocious, and as yet unconscious, understanding of the Surgeon General’s 1964 conclusions on the dangers of smoking?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;No.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Was the jingle musically offensive?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;No more than any other.&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;Wait… I know!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s the “like.”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Shouldn’t it be “Winston Tastes Good AS A Cigarette Should”?&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;According to my fifth-grade English teacher, I. M. Shirley Wright, it certainly should be.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;And yet, dear readers, I questioned.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Does it really make any difference?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Doesn’t “like” sound better than “as” in this particular case?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I don’t remember how I resolved this particular conundrum in my own mind, but I do know that it marked the beginning of a life-long fascination with English usage.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;Fast forward a few decades.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Here we are in the Information Age, when everything you ever wanted to know is a mouse click away.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You would think that now would be time when language—the medium of information—would be revered.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Instead, it’s being stomped on, its&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;precision continually dulled and rich lexicon oafishly impoverished by bad usage.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We are way beyond the Winston era, when a minor infringement of a syntactic rule caught the attention of a nine-year-old girl; we are into a dark time when NPR reporters say things on the air like “ad campaigns around customers’ mindsets,” and there are no problems anymore, only “issues.”&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;If you’ve read this far and you really don’t care about such things, then goodbye and good luck.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But if you do, please stay tuned as I explore what is happening to our beloved native tongue.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Oh, and all you nonjudgmental students of linguistics out there, I know language changes, and I’m all for it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But I believe we are into something here that is damaging, not just transformational, and, by golly, I want it on the record!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Please do not think of this blog as a prescriptive grammar book or me as a stuffy schoolmarm shaking her finger at you every time you say “who” instead of “whom.”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s about style, in all senses of the word, and about taking care of your tools.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I chose “hold your tongue” for its double meaning:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;one, watch what you say (and I don’t mean censor cussing or slang or other wonderful, creative aspects of language); and two, hold your language dear.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;This is Kitty Literate, signing off.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Until next time.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/509441467790544667-8878360230852740145?l=tongueonwry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tongueonwry.blogspot.com/feeds/8878360230852740145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=509441467790544667&amp;postID=8878360230852740145' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/509441467790544667/posts/default/8878360230852740145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/509441467790544667/posts/default/8878360230852740145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tongueonwry.blogspot.com/2008/04/it-started-with-cigarettes.html' title='It Started with Cigarettes'/><author><name>kitty literate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00631606022575100129</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
