Saturday, September 4: Mississippi Mud
IF YOU DON’T KNOW YOUR BURRO FROM A BURROW
by John M. Floyd
Two guys are sitting in a tavern, sipping their beers. One says to the other, “See that girl at the end of the bar? I think I’ll ask her for a date.”
The second guy takes a look, then says, “Forget it. She won’t be interested.”
“How do you know?”
“Because she’s a lesbian.”
“So?” the first guy says. “That won’t matter. Watch this.”
He stands, struts over to the young lady, leans on the bar, and says, “Hi darlin’. How are things in Beirut?”
Yes, I know, it’s an old joke — but it illustrates a point: most of us just don’t have very good vocabularies.
With the assistance of several of my favorite books and articles on the subject, here are a few “word-choice” and style mistakes we as writers often make — and ways to avoid them. (Among my references are Lapsing Into a Comma and The Elephants of Style, Bill Walsh; “Words That Wound,” Byline Magazine; and Woe Is I, Patricia T. O’Conner.)
NOTE: Some of the following are firm rules; others are informed opinions. (I have friends who insist that “T-shirts” should be “tee shirts.”) But, as I said in a comment to Steve’s who/whom column last week, I think it’s always fun to hear others’ thoughts on the subject of word usage. I aren’t no grammarian, but I’m glad I know people who is.
Convince/persuade — “Convince” involves thought; “persuade” involves action. She convinced him she was right. He persuaded her to drive him home.
T-shirt/tee shirt — “T-shirt” is correct. Hint: when spread out, it looks like the letter T.
Continuous/continual — “Continuous” means without interruption. “Continual” means frequently or often repeated. The entire film was made up of one continuous scene. The bill died after continual objections.
Hone in/home in — You can hone your knife or your skills, but you can’t “hone in” on something. The investigator homed in on the fact that Judy was absent the night of the murder.
Till — The word “till” is an informal version of “until,” not a contraction (’til), and is perfectly acceptable. We’ll stay here till you get back.
Alright — This one, like “alot,” is not acceptable. Alright is never all right.
Minuscule — Spelling hint: when something’s minuscule, it’s minus (lacking) size.
May/might — Sometimes they mean the same thing. Often, though, “may” involves permission and “might” involves possibility. Jimmy may go to the movies (his mom’s allowing him to). Jimmy might go to the movies (he hasn’t decided).
When choosing whether to use “a” or “an,” pronunciation of the following word — not spelling — is what matters most. An hour and a half. A European vacation. Always include an SASE.
Data and media — These are collective nouns, and should be treated as singular. The data is conclusive. The media has arrived. Bill Walsh of The Washington Post says writers who use them as plurals are educated but misguided, and Patricia O’Conner notes that “data” seems to have gone the way of agenda, opera, and insignia — technically plural words that have become singular nouns.
Hung/hanged — Unless capital punishment is involved, “hung” is the correct past tense of “hang.” Anyone who thinks otherwise should be hanged.
Fellowship and dialogue — These are among those nouns that shouldn’t be used as verbs. “It’s been suggested that we meet and fellowship at seven p.m. Should we dialogue about that?” No!
Nauseated/nauseous – Nauseated means sick; nauseous means sickening. “I’m nauseated” is a statement; “I’m nauseous,” is an admission.
Accommodate — Spelling hint: it’s big enough to accommodate two c’s and two m’s.
Imply/infer — A speaker implies; an audience infers.
Momentarily — It doesn’t mean “soon”; it means “for a moment.” When I was confronted, I hesitated momentarily. But if the skipper says, “We’ll be afloat momentarily,” you might want to get the hell off his boat.
Articles, prepositions, and conjunctions used in titles of books and movies are usually capitalized if they contain four or more letters. Gone With the Wind.
Between/among — We all know the rule here; but “between” is also used for multiples when talking about physical relationships. Sand gets between your toes, not among them (even if you have more than two toes).
Straitjacket and straitlaced — There’s no “gh” in either one; I’m being straight with you, here. “Strait” comes from the Latin “strictus,” which means constricted or tight. Think Bering Strait.
Ingenious/ingenuous — “Ingenious” means “brilliant” (it has the pronunciation of “genius” built in). “Ingenuous” means “candid” or “innocently open” (“ingenue” is a word for an inexperienced girl).
If you’re adding -ed or -ing or -er to a verb, double a single final consonant only if the accent is on the final syllable. Canceled, traveled, controlled, patrolled. Words like transferred and kidnapped are exceptions because (I assume) they might otherwise be mispronounced.
Some words, like irregardless, utilize, orientate, preregister, and preventative, shouldn’t be used at all. And I love this quote from The Elephants of Style regarding the phrase “per se”:
“It means ‘in itself.’ But beware: Even when used correctly, it identifies the speaker or writer as a geeky, pretentious high-school student.”
I’ll close with a note from the The UPI Stylebook: “A burro is an ass. A burrow is a hole in the ground. As a writer you are expected to know the difference.”
Great stuff, John. Invaluable for non-native speakers of English. Let me ask a few questions and make a comment or two:
On reflection, that seems absolutely correct. Now I always thought “persuade”, in contradistinction to “convince”, had a connotation of being not entirely sincere—i.e., you can only convince a person of something you yourself believe, but you can persuade someone to carry out the most sinister schemes. Is that so?
I was taught British English in school, and the word I learned was “till”. According to my teachers, “until” is an illogical perversity…
And sometimes “may” means epistemic possibility, whereas “might” indicates counterfactual possibility, as in: “Where did Jimmy go?”–“He may have gone to the movies.” (=It is consistent with all I know that Jimmy actually went to the movies.) “Did Jimmy go to the movies?”–“Ah, you know him well. He might have gone to the movies, but in fact he went grocery shopping.” (=There is a possible alternative course of events in which Jimmy went to the movies, but it’s not the actual course of events.)
Sorry, but even though I’m not a native speaker, I have to object to these atrocities. Data, media, insignia, and criteria are all plurals in their original languages and should remain so in English, especially since their singular forms are also used in English: datum, medium, insignium, criterion. Opera entered English from the Italian, where it is singular (though of course ultimately derived from Latin opus). The singular use of agenda is excusable because an agendum is just one item on the agenda, so it increases the expressiveness of English to have a separate word for the entire list of agenda items.
Perfectly correct. I might add that an implier needn’t be a person, e.g. the premises of an argument (if it is valid) imply its conclusion. In that case, one may infer the conclusion from the premises.
Or dire straits?
I think this is an American thing. Again, I was taught to always double the final single consonant in these cases: cancelled, travelled.
Thanks for the column, John. I’m sure you can tell how much I enjoyed it.
My first thought upon seeing this article: I hope that poor burro isn’t actually stuck in that hole!
“T-shirt” is correct. Hint: when spread out, it looks like the letter T.
This one made me laugh. Of course, now I know why I always write T-shirt! Also, let me just say at this point, it’s not “catsup,” it’s “ketchup”!
Momentarily — It doesn’t mean “soon”; it means “for a moment.”
Isn’t this a American English-British English thing? I am pretty sure “momentarily” can also mean “in a moment” or “very soon” in American English, though never or rarely in British English.
However, it’s the other way around with the word “presently.” In American English, it means (or can mean) “at the moment”; in British English, I’ve found, it means “in a moment” or “pretty soon” more often than not.
Alright — This one, like “alot,” is not acceptable.
Okay, I never write “alright” or “alot” (except maybe in dialogue or when I write too fast), but what about “awhile” versus “a while”? Some say there is a subtle difference in meaning between these two, but I am not sure I’ve figured it out yet. Can anyone explain it to me?
Minuscule — Spelling hint: when something’s minuscule, it’s minus (lacking) size.
This reminds me, for a long time I thought you pronounced “minute” (meaning tiny) the same way you pronounce “minute” (unit of time) . . . unless someone corrected me, and made me look like a fool. LOL.
This is a great article, John!
until someone corrected me*
Hamilton, I agree that “persuade” sometimes seems to imply sneaky means. And I must admit that until seeing this explanation someplace, I always used “convince” and “persuade” without worrying about all this — and I don’t spend too much time worrying about it now. The idea of “thought” vs. “action” is intriguing to me, though.
I tend to agree with you, on “till,” although I hadn’t heard it put that way before.
JLW has a great discussion of “may vs. might” that he might want to share with you. As for data and media, he and I have argued often about this one. I certainly understand that “data” is plural, but as an old computer guy, using it as singular just sounds so much more right, to me. As I told JLW, “The data are conclusive” should only be spoken by college professors.
As Josh said, I suspect that a lot of this stuff is an American-English/British-English matter. (Especially the business about adding an extra “l” to traveling, etc.)
As for “awhile,” I use it all the time. I imagine there will always be disagreement with any of these kinds of so-called rules. But ain’t they fun??
Love this post, John.
Re convince/persuade: I had learned in grad school that you persuade others but only you can be convinced. Your thought/action information nicely fleshes out the reasoning here.
Re nauseated/nauseous: Yes. Exactly right. If you’re nauseated, you feel like you’re going to throw up. If your nauseous, you make other people want to throw up.
Let me add one of my own: Currently/presently: They do NOT mean the same thing. Currently means happening right now. Presently means is about to happen. Currently I am typing. Presently I will submit this comment.
And I’m not sure if I agree not to use “preventative.” Seems like a good adjective that sprung (did it?) from a verb.
Oh, and per se is also used by geeky law students and lawyers. I say it now and then. Sigh.
Here’s what I wrote to John about “may/might”:
“Might” was originally the past tense of “may”, e.g.:
(A) Q: Why are you looking so thoughtful?
A: I’m thinking that I may enlist in the Navy.
(B) Q: Why were you looking so thoughtful?
A: I was thinking that I might enlist in the Navy.
In English, the use of a past tense affects subjunctives by making them more remote (i.e., less likely to be true), e.g., the were-subjunctive v. the be-subjunctive:
“If the truth were told” (more remote)
v.
“If the truth be told” (less remote)
Other examples following this rule are can/could, will/would, and shall/should.
So while John’s rule is correct, it’s not because “may” and “might” are two different words with different meanings. It’s because the latter is the past tense of the former.
I agree with Hamilton completely that data and media should always be treated as plurals. The data are conclusive. And I don’t care if that makes me sound like a college professor. John also defended this abomination on the grounds that I.T. guys, who would seem to have a vested interest, always use these words as singulars, to which I made the objection that the state of English diction should not be entrusted to I.T. guys, most of whom have trouble speaking English in the first place. Besides, they’re even more geeky than the college professors.
Barb, preventative is not a word. It certainly did not spring from a verb. You don’t say “to preventate”, do you? The correct adjectival form of to prevent is preventive.
I use per se when it is called for, too, and it’s been many years since I was in high school.
My standby on this one is the Penguin Dictionary of Confusibles, by Adrian Room.
It helps when you puzzle over flaunt/vaunt/flout, or perceptive/percipient/perspicacious/perspicious.
By the way, Hamilton, insignium is not a word. The singular form of insignia is insigne.
Also, regarding the etymology of opera meaning a play with music: while you are correct that opera is the plural of opus, in fact it had another meaning in Latin which meant work in a generic sense, and that is the actually the source of its use as a singular noun.
An opus is a piece of work, the result of labor. But opera is work itself, as in, “I’m looking for work.” That’s where the theatrical sense actually derives, although through the French rather than Italian.
John: Yes, I think most Americans write “traveled” and “modeling” whereas most Brits prefer writing “travelled” and “modelling.” What I noticed–and what always amuses me–is that Stephen King, who writes American English in every other aspect, usually adopts the British way of spelling when it comes to this rule of doubling the “l.” I know you are a Stephen King fan too, so . . . have you ever noticed that? I wonder why he does that!
Josh, you’re right, I love ANYthing by Stephen King. As for his frequent doubling of those single final consonants, I have indeed noticed that. We could be overanalyzing here (SK might not give a moment’s thought to doing it one way over another), but one reason he might do it occurred to me when I read Hamilton’s comment: always doubling it is always safe; otherwise there are words that (like the aforementioned kidnapped, transferred, etc.) would be flat wrong if you DIDN’T.
Many thanks, Barb, for pointing out the difference between currently and presently. Wish I had included that one. As for nauseous/nauseated, I remember hearing a guy at work one day tell another, “We won’t be at the party tonight — my wife is nauseous.” The other guy solemnly replied, “I know.”
James wrote:
I stand corrected. Thanks, I’ve learned something! (My old Latin teacher must have turned in his grave…)
Thanks, also, for your explanations regarding opera. I’m neither persuaded nor convinced, however, that its origin is French rather than Italian.
John, I agree with you about almost everything, plus a couple things I never thought about and will take your word for. The one thing I disagree about is (or do I mean the two things I disagree about are?) data and media. They are plurals and should be treated as such. On a related matter of British vs. American usage, I admit to being besotted with the British way of treating plural nouns without an s on the end as plural. (e.g., The jury disagree.) When referencing two basketball teams that are made up of several individuals, it is totally illogical to say “The Lakers are playing the Jazz” but “The Jazz is playing the Lakers.” Any British sportscaster would say, “The Jazz are playing the Lakers” and quite rightly, too. It’s interesting that in British English publishers are always plural (“Macmillan are my publishers”), but in American English they are always singular (“Simon and Schuster is my publisher”).
JLW, thanks for setting me straight on preventive versus preventative. You hear something so often, you don’t even notice that it’s wrong.
And John, you wrote: As for nauseous/nauseated, I remember hearing a guy at work one day tell another, “We won’t be at the party tonight — my wife is nauseous.” The other guy solemnly replied, “I know.”
This is the funniest thing I’ve heard all day.
Oh, wait, one more from me: The word “including” means that the following list is incomplete. It therefore is redundant to say “including, but not limited to.”
Example:
Correct: A rainbow has several colors in it, including red and blue.
Incorrect: A rainbow has several colors in it, including, but not limited to, red and blue.
REDUNDANT! Yet I see it all the time. GRRR.
Oh, John, you have gotten me started!
John: Yes, of course, maybe. Although… on second thought, I doubt that’s the real reason. Stephen King is one of the very, very best and a master of the English language. Somehow I can’t imagine him saying to himself, “All right, I’ll just put two l’s here, there, and everywhere, so I don’t end up making a mistake later on… ” Besides, he must have a capable editor. Maybe King does that because virtually nobody else does it (it’s either American or British English, and very rarely a mixture of both), and he wants to appeal to readers of both sides of the Atlantic! Or maybe he does it because he wants his writings to be… well, unique. Not that they aren’t, anyway.
Jon, I’d have to go with the sportscasters who say “The Jazz are playing the Lakers” — that sounds exactly right to me — and I actually agree with making most things plural that should be. As for “data,” I realize it’s plural, but I swear I just cannot bring myself to use it that way, in speech or writing. I choose to use it (improper or not) as a collective singular noun, and on that the data is conclusive. As for media, I go back and forth on that one, depending on how it sounds in a sentence. (I can’t tell you what a feeling of power it gives me, intentionally misusing words like this . . .)
Thanks, also, for your explanations regarding opera. I’m neither persuaded nor convinced, however, that its origin is French rather than Italian.
Oops. You are right, I was wrong. I misread the etymological notes on it in the OED: it says plainly that the word is Italian and only directs the reader to compare it with the similar French opéra. The earliest listing for its use in England clearly illustrates its Italian origin:
“It is the work of Bernini, . . . who, a little before my coming to the citty [Rome], gave a publiq Opera (for so they call shews of that kind) wherein he painted the scenes . . . ” —John Evelyn’s Diary, 1644
Besides, he must have a capable editor.
Josh, you are assuming a fact not in evidence. Editors of best-selling authors are infamous for indulging their writers’ idiosyncracies rather than exercising the red pen.
Barb wrote:
Couldn’t agree with you more, Barb. Here’s a shocker, though: I served on a committee not too long ago where people would routinely describe their accomplishments by saying things like, “I performed at several international venues, including A, B, and C,” when in fact A, B, and C were the only international venues they’d ever been to. Clearly the intention was to mislead reviewers into believing they had provided an incomplete list after “including”. Nobody else on the committee seemed to be bothered by this practice. Of course, once one lets this abuse of “include” pass, the abomination “including but not limited to” actually becomes non-redundant…
I feel so excluded, Hamilton!
Jon and Yoshinori, I agree about liking double LLs for travelling and so on, although I force myself to write the Americanised version. As I mentioned not long ago, this language foible really bugged us at IBM.
However, Jon, the British exceptions to plurals drove me mad (in the English sense). I argued ‘team’ is a single unit, but they make horrid exceptions for sports. I suspect they make the exceptions for sports fans who may be no more capable of grammar than I am of playing rugby.
John, I smugly stepped through your list only to be brought up short when it came to straitjacket and straitlaced. I had never noticed and I’d written straightjacket mere hours earlier. To be sure, both my computer dictionary and MS Word accept ‘straightjacket’ as a variant, but still, how embarrassing. (Curious note: Whereas MS Word accepted the variant, my Mac just now flagged it as an error!)
To the great list, I’d suggest less/fewer for, er, including.
Josh, you are assuming a fact not in evidence. Editors of best-selling authors are infamous for indulging their writers’ idiosyncracies rather than exercising the red pen.
Hmmmm, well, I meant “I assume he must have a capable editor.” And even if King doesn’t, the editor must be blind not to catch the double l’s. Yes, I think it’s one of King’s idiosyncrasies, one that’s a bit noteworthy and surprising, but in the end it doesn’t really detract from the enjoyment of his stories–which is, I guess, why it’s no big deal.