I don't understand why I'm constantly called onto the carpet for caring about language. I've spent ten years as a writer, a professional writer and editor. It's my JOB to make sure that things are correct. So, if I nitpick it elsewhere, that's just natural. Does anybody complain when the guy who designs a bridge is too much of a stickler? What about your surgeon? What if your surgeon was loosey-goosey about her profession? Would you expect a surgeon to use, as her doctor, someone who graduated from "Bobz Krazy Skool of Kuttin' Folks"? Would you understand if an engineer pointed out that a building was structurally unsound? More realistically, what about a chef? Do you expect a professional chef to eat at McDonald's and pretend to like it? Would you expect a professional musician to listen to Kenny G? Would you expect a professional stylist to admire Al Sharpton's hairdo?
It's simply this. I have a natural love and affinity for language. When used well, it has the capacity to exalt, incise, and inform. When used improperly, it has the capacity to degrade, misinform, and confuse. Many of the most beautiful and uplifting thoughts from throughout history are immortalized in the English language. Seeing it all fall apart does not please me. Shakespeare would never have said ROFLMAO, even if it had been invented, or even if he was ACTUALLY lying on the floor laughing his ass off. He knew where the hell to place an apostrophe, as did every 4th grader not so long ago. The poetry is being lost. So many people seem to think it's uncool to even TRY. Caring about this does not indicate a neurosis.
I don't think that people who frequently misspell or misplace an apostrophe are stupid. But I do find it jarring to read what they write. And often, I think it's sad when a brilliant thought is expressed with incorrect language. Because it will drag the whole thing down.
When I'm writing on my blog, I liberally maul the language. I use sentence fragments all the time. All the time. Often, I won't go back and fix my typos, because I'm done working for the day. I use too many commas, and I won't use a semicolon, even if it's the right thing to do. Further, I don't even consider myself that good a writer. Workmanlike, I'd say. I'm in awe of the few authors who turn a truly elegant phrase. I wish I could do that. My career has been as a technical writer, and it is an exacting, if uncreative, job. As an Aquarian, it is not even in my nature to be so detailed, but it is in my training.
It just so happens that I also care about good table manners, and don't want to eat with somebody who constantly shows me what's in his mouth. Does that make me snobby? I like to see men behave like gentlemen and women like ladies. Not because I'm prudish, but because I prefer people with enough self-respect to respect others by using good behavior. The definition of grace, in my opinion, is how comfortable you make others feel. I don't use foul or even racy language in front of my mother because I know she does not like it, but I will gleefully develop a sailor mouth in the right company.
Since when does self-respect and good behavior make you a neurotic prude? Is it just when others find it inconvenient? I just don't understand.
Finally, when that surgeon, from before, gets a new piece of equipment designed to keep you alive, she'll need a manual to learn how to use it. I hope, for your sake, that the technical writer of
that manual was as much of a prudish, priggish, pain-in-the-ass as I am. In that case, the misplaced comma could be the difference between life and death.
And here endeth my final rant about language.
