Express Lane of Pain

Dear Seventh Grade English Teacher,

(Names have been omitted to protect the guilty)

Do you remember that one time when we learned about grammar rules? It was after we learned about coordinating conjunctions but before we learned what interjections are? Perhaps you don’t so I will refresh your memory. During a sentence correction designed to make you look like the all-powerful grammar god and the rest of us sniveling little twelve year-olds look like fools.

The sentence was something like this: “After I had bought my favorite cereal, I went to the 10 items or less checkout lane.”

Our objective was to find out what grammatical tragedy had taken place in the aforementioned sentence. Trouble was that between watching Schoolhouse Rock and learning about interjections no one had taught us the “less vs. fewer rule.”

Thankfully you were there with your supernatural abilities to rescue young minds that were un-punctuated with your pathetic passion for technical writing and taught us that the word “less” is reserved for talking about non-numbered or non-countable things. “Fewer” then was reserved for any item that could be counted.

As I marveled at your wisdom, (and pondered at how your nose could keep up such thick horn-rimmed glasses) I felt in the presence of the Eighth Wonder of the World. Time heals most wound, right? Unfortunately this is not one of them.

Let’s say that I am standing in line at the express lane and I have ten of your favorite boxes of cereal but to be cruel I remove one. Do I have one fewer item in my cart? Well, do I Mr. Grammar god?

No, I don’t. I have one less item in my cart. I didn’t intend to be a “meanie,” but I do hope that hurt or at least knocked your pride down one less level. “Less” applies to singular things like money, knowledge, arrogance, etc. It even applies to units of measurement like 4 or less ounces of cereal.

The word “fewer” applies to plural things like fewer friends, fewer social engagements, fewer successful students, etc. So when you are talking about one item the grammatically correct choice is “less” as in, “You have one less item in your cart.”

Hopefully this letter finds you in the middle of purchasing your favorite cereal once more yet this time as you stroll towards the express lane and read “ten items or less” I hope you cringe – at the fact that you are wrong about “less than and fewer than.” Maybe you should give up the grammar god gig up to someone more deserving. Clean up on aisle five, and one less grammar god in the world.

The Semicolon: The Ninja of Punctuation

A semicolon is not a part of a digestive organ, no more than a comma is a state of being deeply unconscious. What’s with all this confusion about how to use the semicolon? And why do writers avoid it like the plague? Is it because it’s old-fashioned, optional, or middle-class? No. The main reason why the semicolon is so carefully avoided is because it’s considered dangerous.

The semicolon is the ninja of punctuation – not just because it’s dressed in black, but because it performs sneaky, almost invisible feats, and people are afraid of it. They know it is useful, but it’s so easy to use incorrectly that it might just come back and stab you in the back.

Lynne Truss states that a semicolon functions as a hint to the reader that “the elements of a sentence, although grammatically distinct, are actually elements of a single notion” (124). They also break up comma fights, and keep those tricky sentence adverbs where they belong: in their own sentence.

An important thing to remember is to never use a semicolon where you could not use a period. There is never a dull moment in the world of punctuation, and those semicolon-ninjas prove it. Although useful, they can’t just be thrown in anywhere.

A semicolon may seem scary, but it’s really just a lonely dot-slash that needs to be accepted and loved. So love your semicolon-ninja and make use of it; it’s not as dangerous as it looks. It’s capable of many extraordinary, yet inconspicuous, things.

The Black Hole of the Punctuation Universe...

An ellipsis is not when the moon moves in front of the sun. Nor is it the third installment in a very popular recent series about sparkling vampires. Those would be considered eclipses. What I’m talking about consists of those three little dots that seem to plague any form of writing these days. You might recognize it. It looks something like this…

Lynne Truss calls the ellipsis “the black hole of the punctuation universe” (165). This probably has something to do with its two word-sucking functions:

1) To indicate words missing from a quote
2) To trail off in an intriguing manner

These are the proper usages of the ellipsis…It does not show connection between sentences…or thought flow…That would be annoying…As you can see…

If the ellipsis is still confusing to you, perhaps this passage that Truss provides will help. If not, then at least it’s entertaining. It’s from BBC2’s Not Only But Also (1966), featuring dialogue between Pete and Dud:

DUD: What happened after that, Pete?
PETE: Well, the bronzed pilot goes up to her and they walk away, and the chapter ends in
three dots.
DUD: What do those three dots mean, Pete?
PETE: Well, in Shute’s hand, three dots can mean anything.
DUD: How’s your father, perhaps?
PETE: When Shute uses three dots it means, “Use your own imagination. Conjure the scene up for yourself.” (Pause) Whenever I see three dots I feel all funny.

Who do they think they are anyway?

When you see someone wearing a t-shirt like this, do you want to be her friend? Nope. I wouldn’t either. In fact, I’d probably make a wide berth around her, just to avoid making eye contact. And it wouldn’t be because this person would just know that I was thinking “Whom in the world would care so much about grammar to wear a t-shirt telling the world?” rather than “Who in the world…?”

The sad thing is, I actually care about grammar, and I still can’t stand people who continually look for opportunities to correct it. These are June Casagrande’s so-called “grammar snobs.” They’re a hyper-breed of stuck-up know-it-alls, including that English teacher you had in the 7th grade who would not allow you to go to the bathroom until you phrased the question “May I?” rather than “Can I?”

Cassagrande describes these people as ones who “can turn on you in an instant, transforming from Jekyll-like, playful nerds into bloodthirsty Hydes” (2). It’s true. We’ve all seen it happen. One minute you’re minding your own business, happily misconjugating verbs and utilizing dangling participles, and the next you’re backed into a corner behind the wagging finger of an enraged psycho. The tirade goes something like this: “Did you seriously just say ‘whom’ instead of ‘who?’ It’s taking the place of a subject, therefore it must be ‘who.’ Where were you educated? Aren’t you in college?”

Well excuse me. I’ll try to keep my misusage of pronouns to myself next time.

I wonder if this is why I gain so much pleasure from Casagrande’s assurance that these grammar snobs don’t know as much as we, or they, might think.

June Casagrande boils this whole mess down into one thought-provoking (albeit sarcastic) philosophy: “The rules of language function like one big conspiracy to make most of us feel stupid” (xxi). Oh, it all makes sense now. I’m just going to have to do the best I can to get a firm grasp on verb tenses and pronoun usage. But if I mispunctuate something here or there, then it’s going to be okay. The world will not be prematurely rushed into the Apocalypse.

Punctuation-Inspired Poetry

Dear Dash - And Sometimes Hyphen

Dear dash I do not know your name

Or from whence you came

Nor did I know of how you thrive

Common folks hardly kept you alive.

Alas you fought with semi-colons, commas, and periods

To stand between the age-old standards of pristine punctuation.

It must be painful to watch the semi-colon move into your place

With ease and grace it erases all trace of where you should be seen

Yet, as it does this evil trick it emphatically harbors you right in its midst.

Dear dash I do now know you well

It’s as though you merely fell

Into grammarian business for the sake of pauses

Yet every time I see you holding onto independent clauses

Or occasionally dining amongst compound modifiers, questions and answers,

Spelling out words, and stuttering ever so sweetly, you do not make a sound.

Were you called by any other name – it would not matter.

For I would love you still as much as the first time we met

When I was in pre-school at 4 years-old and a grammar-obsessed, blonde-haired little smarty-pants.

Original poem written by Ms. Domanico

(This poem channels the emotions of Lynne Truss as expressed in June Casagrande’s, Grammar Snobs are Great Big Meanies.)

Parenthesis: A useful (and delicious) form of punctuation

Does it matter whether you number lists like this:

1) Mix your dry ingredients together.

2) Add eggs. Beat well with a whisk.

3) Slowly add softened butter.

Or like this:

1.) Mix your dry ingredients together.

2.) Add eggs. Beat well with a whisk.

3.) Slowly add softened butter.

Or like this?

1. Mix your dry ingredients together.

2. Add eggs. Beat well with a whisk.

3. Slowly add softened butter.

Apparently so. Is this extraordinarily picky? Yes. However, apparently parentheses have one specific use: according to Webster's Dictionary, for adding "parenthetical" information.

Now, whether it is fair to eager grammar students to use the word one is defining within the definition for that word (i.e., using the word "parenthetical" to define "parentheses") is a conversation for another time. However, Casagrande essentially tells us that parentheses are only to be used for side comments (so numbering like 1.) or 1) is basically a no-go).

As for the matter of brackets ([ ]), Casagrande tells us that they are to be used as parentheses within parentheses -- or, in other words, as a side comment on a side comment. She notes that this practice is ridiculously confusing and impractical, but just think of all the fun you could have making your writing as cryptic as humanly possible!

• Parentheses are rounded brackets (also called lunulae [but this was back in the day] by some grammarians) and are used to include parenthetical information (otherwise known as an aside [which is often referred to as a side comment] by the author).

While Casagrande's rant about the uselessness of brackets is undeniably funny, she fails to address many of the incredibly useful ways that authors use brackets (as outlined by Truss), such as:

• Altering a quote with ambiguous pronouns so that it makes sense to the reader (changing "It caused a stir at the convention" to "[Casagrande's statement] caused quite a stir at the [grammar] convention").
• Indicating an original misspelling with the enclosed phrase sic (She asked for "a packet of Starbust [sic]").
• Enclosing ellipsis when words are left out of a quote ("Finally looking this up for the first time, I see that [...] the words 'ellipsis' and 'ellipses' are not interchangeable" [Casagrande 75]).

What is the (undeniably) useful lesson? When unsure about punctuation, check multiple (trustworthy) sources.

The Burning Question

Why do I need to read about question marks? Isn't its use very straightforward? Who the heck is using it incorrectly?

Perhaps you are asking yourself these questions. However, consider the following sentences:

• On your worksheet, write down who is the main character in The Odyssey?
• I asked if she enjoyed the book?

Is this wrong? If you're unsure, read on. It has come to the attention of many grammarians that everything these days seems to be a question. Anytime our voice goes up at the end of a sentence, we think we need a question mark? Especially teenagers? Well stop it, already! Let's write with a little confidence, people.

Question marks should only be used when a question is being directly asked. Contrary to the popular belief of so many teachers, commands on a quiz that request students to write an answer do not require a question mark! The sentences above should read:

• On your worksheet, write down the name of the main character in the Odyssey.
• I asked if she enjoyed the book.

Or, if you just can't stand not using the lovely punctuation with its "elegant seahorse profile," as Truss lovingly writes, rephrase it as follows:

• Who is the main character in the Odyssey?
• I asked her, "Did you enjoy the book?".

How on earth are you to figure this out on your own? A good rule of thumb is to read the sentence with a dramatic "up" in tone at the end of the sentence anywhere you write a question mark. If it sounds funny, fix it, for heaven's sake.