Planet Utah

A year of no cliches

If you've been reading me long enough, you know that I loathe lazy, stale, shopworn phrases and cliches, particularly in story headlines. (Seriously, the next time I read an "It's the ______, Stupid" headline, or, "Mr. _____ Goes to Washington," I will stick a fondue fork in someone's nads.)

I don't just hate them because they're stale. I hate them because the person using them either knows they're stale, in which case said person might as well say, "You're not worth my coming up with something fresher," or, even worse, the person does NOT know the thing is stale, but instead thinks it's a shiny nugget of rhetorical gold that he or she has just plucked from the river. In that case, the staleness is compounded by an almost complete lack of cultural- and self-awareness. The combination of the two is enough to make me want to smack wannabe showers of money ("Show me the money!") and round-trippers ("I'll be back") in the ear with a meat tenderizer.

What am I prepared to do about this? Lead by example: Effective immediately, and through March 6, 2013, it will be the policy of this blog to avoid tired cliches, weather-beaten phrases, overused tropes, flaccid figures of speech, hidebound analogies, stale sayings, etc.

So, just to give you a few examples of things I will no longer be able to say here:

• lead by example (yup, said it above);
• even a broken clock is right twice a day;
• even a blind squirrel finds an acorn once in a while;
• spoiler alert;
• the apple doesn't fall far from the tree;
• if I had a nickel for every time...;
• "Interesting choice of weapon, Dr. Quest";
• down the rabbit hole;
• I swear, this has never happened to me before;
• it's a dry heat;
• he's like Sisyphus pushing the rock up the hill;
• it's not the crime, it's the cover-up;
• if this were Japan, he would have killed himself already;
• it depends on what the meaning of the word "is," is;
• I was for it before I was against it;
• to each his own;
• better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick;
• I'm tired, but it's a good kinda tired;
• so you're telling me there's a chance...;
• I make a comfortable living;
• you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink;*
• kick the can down the road;
• Doh!
• tough row to hoe;
• toe the party line; and
• deficits as far as the eye can see.

That's it. This exercise starts now.

*I could, however, say, "You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink. Water, I mean." Also acceptable: "You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink water."

Footnote: This challenge does NOT apply to my Twitter account.

Jeff Flake commits an increasingly common sin

A grammatical sin, I mean. I'm sure he's otherwise as innocent as Mickey Mouse's dreams.

Here's what he said (speaking of Gabby Giffords): "Gabby's courage, strength, and optimism is able to cut through the partisanship and bring out the best in Congress."

You see the problem? It's subject-verb disagreement; instead of "courage, strength, and optimism is...", it should be, "courage, strength, and optimism are..." (After all, you wouldn't say, "Rome, Florence, and Venice is all affordable this time of year.")

Because I spend a lot of my day editing, I see the Flake mistake fairly often. I can sort of understand it, too. I mean, look at this sentence: "Her strength and courage is an inspiration to all." Now, again, it should be, "Her strength and courage ARE an inspiration to all," but I know that in their heads, people are sometimes thinking of "strength and courage" collectively. So, just as you would say, "Spaghetti and meatballs is so yummy!", because you're thinking of spaghetti and meatballs as a single, yummy unit, people also may be thinking of "strength and courage" as a single unit of goodness, and Jeff Flake may have been thinking that "courage, strength, and optimism" constitute a single unit of admirable qualities.

But they don't...at least, that interpretation is not yet accepted among people who do the accepting of such interpretations. So for now, remember that plural subjects take plural verb forms (and that Jeff Flake should not graduate to the Senate until he learns how to speak).

Try to read this out loud without passing out

I found this sentence online in what is, ostensibly, a professionally written review of the new Mission Impossible movie:

Anyone worried that his gifts might not transfer from animation to live-action can breathe easy because "Ghost Protocol" contains some of the very best action scenes to hit movie screens this year and what is especially refreshing about them is that, with the exception of the knockout explosion at the Kremlin early on, the scenes rely less on over-the-top pyrotechnics and an obvious over-reliance on CGI trickery and more on pure filmmaking skill and a genuine sense of jaw-dropping spectacle that has become all too rare at a time when virtually any imaginable sight can be conjured up with a battery of computers.

"Begs the question" 101

I'm a political conservative, but I'm a conservative when it comes to language, too. I think words and phrases have meanings, and grammar and spelling have rules, and I don't like to see those meanings and rules worn down through ignorance and laziness. (If "between she and I" ever becomes generally accepted, I'm going to spend about a week throwing rotten eggs at 13-year-old girls.)

That brings me to the phrase, "begs the question." I don't think I've ever used this phrase in normal conversation. I've heard it used a million times, though, as a way of saying, "That raises the question..." Example: "That begs the question: Ten years from now, will anyone be willing to buy U.S. debt?"

That's becoming an acceptable usage...but not in my home. In my home, if you beg the question, you engage in circular reasoning. To be more specific, you assume a point you are trying to prove...that is, you use the point as evidence in support of the case you are making on behalf of the point itself.

Here's an example (which I stole from the Web but put into my own words as an exclusive service to Planet Utah readers):

You: "I believe in the existence of God."

Me: "Why?"

You: "Because the Bible says that God exists."

Me: "But why do you believe what the Bible says?"

You: "Because it was written by God."

Me: "Okay, but that begs the question of whether God exists in the first place."

Are we clear? Good! Now get out there and beg some questions.

Footnote: One of my grad school profs thought that begging the question meant putting the question aside. So, if someone would ask a question that risked derailing the discussion, he would say, "Let's beg that question for now; we'll come back to it later."

That begs the question of how my prof got his doctorate in the first place, don't you think? (No, you don't. At least you better not.)

That's a crappy definition of "insanity"

Every couple of weeks, I come across this rotten old chestnut: "The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."

Yeah? In whose dictionary?

A friend and loyal reader pointed out that it would probably be more accurate to say this: "The definition of persistence is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."

Let me give you an example. Let's say I walk up to 50 people and ask for $20. All 50 turn me down. Then I say, "Well, I guess I'll just have to keep asking." So, I ask another 49 people and get nowhere...but then, on person #100, I get lucky. A kindly older gentleman smiles at me and says, "It's your lucky day, kid. Here's $20. No questions asked."

So, in that scenario, I did the same thing over and over again, expected different results, AND GOT THEM. Who's insane now?

(This works with girls, too...it's a fine line between harassing a girl and wearing her down with persistence, but it's one I've become quite adept at walking.)

I'll give you another take on the same point: You might, in fact, be insane if you did the same thing over and over again and expected different results...but one would hardly consider that behavior the very definition of insanity. I mean, that behavior might--or might not--be a particular manifestation of insanity, but it's hardly the sine qua non of insanity.

The takeaway: It's time to give this particular definition of insanity a gold watch, wish it well, and show it the door. (As for the rest of you, back to work!)

Footnote: Mom, do you want to weigh in on this? (My mom is a psychologist.) Be warned that any disagreement will get you banned from the comment box, frozen out at family gatherings, and so on. 

The love that dare not speak its name

I came across that phrase again recently, and I responded as I normally do: "What the hell does that mean?" 

I've always understood it to be a reference to homosexuality, so I know what it means in that sense. I'm thinking more in the grammatical sense.

Let's start by turning the phrase into a full sentence: "Homosexuality is the love that dare not speak its name." I'm okay with everything up to and including "that." I mean, you could write a perfectly good sentence using the first five words as a starting point: "Homosexuality is the love that occurs between two men (or two women, but we usually refer to that as lesbianism, even though it's still homosexuality, strictly speaking). And we're talking about romantic love here, not a father-son sort of thing." 

If I saw that, I'd say, "Okay, sure, I get it." 

I'd also get this: "Homosexuality is the love that freaks people out. Heterosexuality is the love that people are more comfortable with. So, if you're involved in a homosexual relationship, you probably should keep it to yourself."  (Remember, the line was written in the 1800s, when homosexuality was not as accepted/acceptable as it is today.) Or, if you wanted to keep it poetic, I'd be fine with this: "Homosexuality is the love of which lovers dare not speak." 

But to say, "homosexuality is the love that dare not speak its name"--I mean, who thought that was a good way of communicating the idea that homosexuality is (or was, back in the 1800s) considered sinful, scandalous, even criminal? Had that come across my desk, I would have scribbled a little editor's note as follows: "Please clarify. First, do you mean its own name? Second, I'm having a hard time with the concept of a feeling or emotion speaking its (own) name. Would you say this: 'Heterosexuality has no problem speaking its name.'? I hope not. If so, though, I'd ask you what you meant by that, too. Please revise/resubmit."

Now THIS is humbling: UPDATED

I was listening to some Suns/Spurs post-game chat tonight, and the San Antonio guy said that the four-game sweep was "humbling" for the Spurs. You got that? Humbling. 

Now remember, Barack Obama used that same adjective--"humbling"--to describe the feeling of winning the presidential election in 2008, and then the Nobel Peace Prize in early 2009. (Kidding! It was early 2010.)

So here's what you want to ask yourself: Do you think that on those two occasions Barack Obama was feeling the same way the Spurs are feeling tonight? Me either. That's because Obama and legions of others misuse the word when they invoke it to describe the feeling of receiving a great honor.

Footnote: Don't expect this misuse to slow down any time soon, though. I mean, when a president as bright and articulate as Barack Obama--yeah, I know we're not supposed to say that about a black man because it's "racist," but get over yourself; it's only suspect when you act surprised that a black man is bright and articulate, or when you imply that a bright/articulate black man is an exception to the rule, sort of like when Bill O'Reilly said he couldn't believe that the black patrons at Sylvia's restaurant in Harlem weren't dealing crack right at their tables and paying their tabs with stolen welfare checks before driving off in their pimped-out purple Cadillacs--misuses a word in this fashion, a lot of people are going to assume that it's NOT being misused. (Reminds me of a Senate hearing years ago in which one dim bulb senator repeatedly said "cowwoborate" rather than "corroborate," and all of the other senators started following suit, saying "cowwoborate," figuring that must be the way you were supposed to say it. And who, you ask, was the dim bulb senator who got the whole thing started? Joe Biden. Dumber than Dan Quayle but more fun at parties.)

UPDATE: And now, of course, Elena Kagan declares herself "humbled" to be nominated to the Supreme Court. 

Does anyone read this blog any more?

Fun with semantics

Some of the people (most of the people?) who work at the offices of my primary client think that I'm a bit of a tight-ass. That's okay. I am a bit of a tight-ass. But something funny happened this morning that made me seem like more of a tight-ass than I really am.

I am supposed to review a set of documents, and I was asked whether I wanted them as they became available or all at once. I said all at once.

Well, one of them has been delayed, which means that all of them have been delayed. In an effort to communicate this domino effect, one person who works for my client told another person who works for my client that there was still one document outstanding, and that I "wanted all of the documents sent to (me) at once."

Does that make me sound like a Roman emperor (with a British accent, of course)? "Have all of the documents sent to me at once!"

That's just one step away from this: "Bathe her, and have her brought to me."

The word "webinar" makes me vomit poisonous spiders

That's how much I hate it. Why? Because "web" doesn't sound anything like "sem." This makes "webinar" an offense to the ear, and to my tummy. It's the worst neologism since "Bushnomics."

Footnote: No, "Bushonomics" is not acceptable either.

Anklenote: Check this out; it's a veritable medina for those interested in neologisms.

Can we retire "on the backs of"?

I am so, so, SO sick of the intellectually flaccid and utterly meaningless pseudo-rejoinder, "There you go!" (Here's an example. Statement: "I need some time off; I'm going to see if I can find some kind of deal to Cancun at lastminutetravel.com." Well-meaning but intellectually flaccid and utterly meaningless pseudo-rejoinder: "There you go!") The only thing diffusing my angry obsession with this phrase is the sudden proliferation in Arizona political circles of another phrase--a more meaningful one, but one that has already reached maximum accetable concentrations in political discourse: "on the backs of."  Here's an example: "Arizona policymakers should not balance the state's budget on the backs of children and the elderly."

Duly noted. I'm sure lots of people share the sentiment, too. But just because you share the sentiment doesn't mean you have to use the exact same words when you communicate it. For example, you might want to try something along these lines: "The budget cuts being discussed by legislative leaders these days would be a boot to the throat of children and the elderly." Wow! I mean, seriously, SO much better than "...on the backs of children and the elderly."

Footnote: In New York, where they're proposing a "fat tax," I wonder if anyone has said, "The governor should not balance the state's budget on the asses of fat people."

Anklenote: I'm also tiring of "stole my thunder." This is a staple of talk radio: "Well, the guy who just called kinda stole my thunder, but..." I like the idea that "stole my thunder" communicates in three words what otherwise might take as many as many as seven ("said what I was going to say"). But I'm getting sick of hearing those three words in particular. So, as with subtituting "medina" for "mecca," I encourage Planet Utah readers to substitute "bleached my eye teeth" for "stole my thunder."