English is a spiteful, hateful bitch. She'll text you romantic things one day and then change her locks on you the next. I know there are a lot of ridiculous languages out there (French, I'm talking to you. Just change your damn spelling already, or start pronouncing those superfluous vowels. I'm warning you.), but I'm pretty sure English is the only one that even native speakers don't know how the hell to use. Like, what's the past perfect tense of drink? "I had drank? drunk? dranken? drunken?!" Don't feel bad, no one knows. I'm a linguist, and I just don't use the past perfect. I suggest you do the same.
Linguists are a funny group of people because they can spend 10 years arguing about the construction of a simple sentence, and still not reach a conclusion. (Pro tip: if you have to go to a party full of them, stay away from the theoretical linguists. Don't say you weren't warned.) During one of my many hours of downtime at work, after a twitter debate about stranding prepositions (I'm a loser, okay, get over it), I found a fantastic wikipedia article about all the disputes in the English language. Here's my favorites, with my completely unbiased and 100% official decisions on how you should deal with them.
Preposition stranding. Fun fact: someone who hated humanity decided this was wrong. Every linguist says it's okay. Sentences like this should hold all the proof you need: This is the sort of English up with which I will not put. Winston Churchill said that. Do you think you're smarter than Winston Churchill? He and I agree you should just say This is the sort of English I will not put up with. Yeah, sounds like a sentence now doesn't it?
Double negatives. I just like how wikipedia's example is "I don't want no scrubs." Take that, TLC.
Double modals. This is phrases like "You might could use it." It's clearly ridiculous, but I think anything people say with a Southern accent is cute, so carry on. Also, interestingly, wikipedia points out that phrases like "I might be able to" which are more commonly considered grammatically correct, are secret double modals (be able to functions as a modal here, since it means the same thing as could). So there.
Dangling modifiers. That's what she said.
Usage of hopefully. I find the concept of a feud over a single adverb a little ridiculous, but this was one of my favorite examples in college. In English, in a sentence like "Hopefully, the train will arrive on time" the adverb is generally used to describe the speaker's state of mind. However, it's actually a disjunct (meaning, since you're not the subject of the sentence, it's not syntactically connected to you), and if you look at the construction of the sentence the only thing it can logically modify is the manner in which the train will arrive. So you're really talking about a hopeful little train peeking around the corner, and linguists don't like this problem. But they do like talking about it.
Who vs Whom. You guys, it's really easy. Do you know when to use he vs him? It's EXACTLY THE SAME. "I'm fond of him" = "Of whom are you fond?" "He's my friend" = "Who is your friend?" "He is in charge" = "Who ever is in charge?" "I'm going to marry him" = "Whomever will you marry?" Okay? Stop arguing about it.
OH BY THE WAY I had too much coffee this morning and when that happens apparently I lecture people about linguistics. Consider yourself DOUBLY warned.
Showing posts with label life lessons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life lessons. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Monday, April 6, 2009
Unusual Deaths
I worry about dying, a lot. But not from something lame like a serial killer or lung cancer. I only worry about things that are unlikely to happen to me. I figure with my luck, I'll be the one person to have a plane land exactly on my face (none of the passengers will be harmed). Since most of you maybe aren't crazy (or SMART) enough to bother researching the danger of unlikely events, I've compiled this convenient chronological list of The Best of Wikipedia's List of Unusual Deaths. I've also included a helpful number, on a scale of 1-10, of how concerned you should be about each one, and how to avoid these situations if applicable.
892 (AD): Sigurd the Mighty of Orkney strapped the head of a defeated foe to his leg, the tooth of which grazed against him as he rode his horse, causing the infection which killed him.
Level of concern? 0. We have a little something called Neosporin 1200 years in the future. Enjoy all the necrophilic activities you'd like with your defeated enemies. Also I know I said the scale was from 1-10. It was a test. You passed!
1410: Martin I of Aragon died from a lethal combination of indigestion and uncontrollable laughing.
Level of concern? 8. Holy crap, I worry about this one all the time. I don't know how much indigestion played into his death (that's another thing about me: I don't perform very diligent research), but uncontrollable laughter can be terrifying. Did you hear about that girl who died because she couldn't stop hiccuping, or sneezing or something? It's like that.
1601: Tycho Brahe, according to legend, died of complications resulting from a strained bladder at a banquet. It would have been extremely bad etiquette to leave the table before the meal was finished, so he stayed until he became fatally ill.
Level of concern? 10. Okay, maybe we don't have banquets anymore (or... none that I'm invited to), but this issue should really be your foremost thought the next time you don't want to get up from your window seat to go to the bathroom on a plane. Or when you think you can get just one more thing done at work before you go. Or when you REALLY don't want to miss 7 Lost plot twists by leaving for 30 seconds.
1814: In the London Beer Flood, 9 people were killed when 323,000 imperial gallons of beer in the Meux and Company Brewery burst out of their vats and gushed into the streets.
Level of concern? 2. Although drowning is never fun, I'd say this is probably the ideal way to go, horrible accident-wise (okay, it's a tie with the Boston Molasses Disaster).
1927: Isadora Duncan, dancer, died of a broken neck when one of the long scarves she was known for caught on the wheel of a car in which she was a passenger.
Level of concern? 9. It didn't help that every time I left the house with a scarf on my mother told me this story. Note the past tense. I don't wear scarves.
1979: Robert Williams, a worker at a Ford Motor Co. plant, was the first known human to be killed by a robot, after the arm of a one-ton factory robot hit him in the head.
Level of concern? Malicious robots: Non-existent. Design them with an OFF BUTTON, duh. Robot accidents: 7. They're just as prone to malfunction as we are! Watch your back.
1994: Gloria Ramirez was admitted to Riverside General Hospital for complications of advanced cervical cancer. Before she died, her body mysteriously emitted toxic fumes that made several emergency room workers very ill.
Level of concern? 4. Being toxic could be kind of awesome, or it could be related to your cervical cancer and make everyone around you sick in one final fuck-you to the world before you die. Which would be kind of awesome.
1998: Every player on the visiting soccer team at a game in the Democratic Republic of the Congo was struck by a fork bolt of lightning, killing them all instantly.
Level of concern? 1. It's not like it's gonna happen twice... OR IS IT?
2003: Dr. Hitoshi Nikaidoh, a surgical doctor, in Houston,Texas, was decapitated as he stepped on to an elevator and the elevator malfunctioned, pinning his shoulders. His head was severed when the elevator car moved upward.
Level of concern? OH MY GOD 11. Take the damn stairs.
892 (AD): Sigurd the Mighty of Orkney strapped the head of a defeated foe to his leg, the tooth of which grazed against him as he rode his horse, causing the infection which killed him.
Level of concern? 0. We have a little something called Neosporin 1200 years in the future. Enjoy all the necrophilic activities you'd like with your defeated enemies. Also I know I said the scale was from 1-10. It was a test. You passed!
1410: Martin I of Aragon died from a lethal combination of indigestion and uncontrollable laughing.
Level of concern? 8. Holy crap, I worry about this one all the time. I don't know how much indigestion played into his death (that's another thing about me: I don't perform very diligent research), but uncontrollable laughter can be terrifying. Did you hear about that girl who died because she couldn't stop hiccuping, or sneezing or something? It's like that.
1601: Tycho Brahe, according to legend, died of complications resulting from a strained bladder at a banquet. It would have been extremely bad etiquette to leave the table before the meal was finished, so he stayed until he became fatally ill.
Level of concern? 10. Okay, maybe we don't have banquets anymore (or... none that I'm invited to), but this issue should really be your foremost thought the next time you don't want to get up from your window seat to go to the bathroom on a plane. Or when you think you can get just one more thing done at work before you go. Or when you REALLY don't want to miss 7 Lost plot twists by leaving for 30 seconds.
1814: In the London Beer Flood, 9 people were killed when 323,000 imperial gallons of beer in the Meux and Company Brewery burst out of their vats and gushed into the streets.
Level of concern? 2. Although drowning is never fun, I'd say this is probably the ideal way to go, horrible accident-wise (okay, it's a tie with the Boston Molasses Disaster).
1927: Isadora Duncan, dancer, died of a broken neck when one of the long scarves she was known for caught on the wheel of a car in which she was a passenger.
Level of concern? 9. It didn't help that every time I left the house with a scarf on my mother told me this story. Note the past tense. I don't wear scarves.
1979: Robert Williams, a worker at a Ford Motor Co. plant, was the first known human to be killed by a robot, after the arm of a one-ton factory robot hit him in the head.
Level of concern? Malicious robots: Non-existent. Design them with an OFF BUTTON, duh. Robot accidents: 7. They're just as prone to malfunction as we are! Watch your back.
1994: Gloria Ramirez was admitted to Riverside General Hospital for complications of advanced cervical cancer. Before she died, her body mysteriously emitted toxic fumes that made several emergency room workers very ill.
Level of concern? 4. Being toxic could be kind of awesome, or it could be related to your cervical cancer and make everyone around you sick in one final fuck-you to the world before you die. Which would be kind of awesome.
1998: Every player on the visiting soccer team at a game in the Democratic Republic of the Congo was struck by a fork bolt of lightning, killing them all instantly.
Level of concern? 1. It's not like it's gonna happen twice... OR IS IT?
2003: Dr. Hitoshi Nikaidoh, a surgical doctor, in Houston,Texas, was decapitated as he stepped on to an elevator and the elevator malfunctioned, pinning his shoulders. His head was severed when the elevator car moved upward.
Level of concern? OH MY GOD 11. Take the damn stairs.
Friday, March 27, 2009
I'm like the Mr Rogers of Mortification
How to Turn Perfectly Neutral Events into Situations Which Are Embarrassing Because You're a Temp So No One Wants to be Your Friend at Work
(Sidenote: step one is obviously to have debilitating social anxieties.)
Get to the fancy cafeteria. Order your fancy food. Go to grab a napkin - the guy in front of you has just taken the last one. "Oh, do you need this?" he asks with an almost imperceptible sneer (but you're crazy, so you catch it). "Oh no," you laugh, "I'm not a messy eater." Too much information, you scream at yourself, now you look like you're trying to be his friend. Quickly break eye contact, worry you look too bitchy, resign yourself to sitting alone and reading a book AGAIN. Lift the fork with your first bite of delicious tortellini - oh, it's on your pants. And there's no napkins. Proceed to surreptitiously remove the pasta from your lap, put it back on the plate, and attempt to clean the sauce from your pants with your fingers. Fail. Finish your pasta, realize you ate the one that fell. Worry that everyone in the cafeteria noticed for some reason.
Notice your chapstick is missing. Must have fallen out of my pocket. Ugh. That shit costs like $4. Fuck it, I have another one at home. Not worth staying late to look for it. Get your stuff, go out to sit (alone) on the company shuttle. Before it can leave, someone climbs in with your chapstick in her hand. "Someone lost their Burt's Bees!" she exclaims, as if she's just saved a box full of kittens from a burning elementary school. Don't say anything because you've already resigned yourself to having lost it. Everyone on the bus proceeds to check their purses and pockets, announcing one by one that they all have theirs. You panic inwardly. It's been too long now to say something, and you don't feel like going through the ruse of checking your pockets. You also don't want to say anything, because you're hoping no one has noticed you exist, let alone that you're sitting on their bus like a criminal. One woman says "Oh! I think it's mine!" She goes up, opens it, crinkles her nose and says "Nevermind, mine was new. Look, this one's used." She throws it in the garbage, and you have a 25 minute bus ride to deride yourself for being so blue-collar as to actually use your $4 chapstick. Which is now in the garbage.
Smash your finger in a drawer. "Oh my god, are you okay?" asks your (probably faking it)concerned coworker. Pretend like it didn't hurt; kick yourself for grimacing when you should be producing a convincing smile. Gradually realize that the pain is getting worse, not better, and that you may have broken your finger. Shit, it's bent. Did it always look like that? Do I need to go to the ER? Glance at your coworker; she hasn't noticed the tears welling up in your eyes. Announce too loudly that you need to run to the restroom. Hide there, running cold water on your finger, until you can convince yourself it was always slightly bent and that if your future husband really loves you he won't mind. Worry that you've been in the restroom too long and that someone will assume you're up to something. Consider faking puke noises to further your bulimia charade; decide against it in case the CEO overhears. Sneak back to your desk; announce too loudly that you stopped by the kitchen for some water.
TO BE CONTINUED.
(Sidenote: step one is obviously to have debilitating social anxieties.)
Get to the fancy cafeteria. Order your fancy food. Go to grab a napkin - the guy in front of you has just taken the last one. "Oh, do you need this?" he asks with an almost imperceptible sneer (but you're crazy, so you catch it). "Oh no," you laugh, "I'm not a messy eater." Too much information, you scream at yourself, now you look like you're trying to be his friend. Quickly break eye contact, worry you look too bitchy, resign yourself to sitting alone and reading a book AGAIN. Lift the fork with your first bite of delicious tortellini - oh, it's on your pants. And there's no napkins. Proceed to surreptitiously remove the pasta from your lap, put it back on the plate, and attempt to clean the sauce from your pants with your fingers. Fail. Finish your pasta, realize you ate the one that fell. Worry that everyone in the cafeteria noticed for some reason.
Notice your chapstick is missing. Must have fallen out of my pocket. Ugh. That shit costs like $4. Fuck it, I have another one at home. Not worth staying late to look for it. Get your stuff, go out to sit (alone) on the company shuttle. Before it can leave, someone climbs in with your chapstick in her hand. "Someone lost their Burt's Bees!" she exclaims, as if she's just saved a box full of kittens from a burning elementary school. Don't say anything because you've already resigned yourself to having lost it. Everyone on the bus proceeds to check their purses and pockets, announcing one by one that they all have theirs. You panic inwardly. It's been too long now to say something, and you don't feel like going through the ruse of checking your pockets. You also don't want to say anything, because you're hoping no one has noticed you exist, let alone that you're sitting on their bus like a criminal. One woman says "Oh! I think it's mine!" She goes up, opens it, crinkles her nose and says "Nevermind, mine was new. Look, this one's used." She throws it in the garbage, and you have a 25 minute bus ride to deride yourself for being so blue-collar as to actually use your $4 chapstick. Which is now in the garbage.
Smash your finger in a drawer. "Oh my god, are you okay?" asks your (probably faking it)concerned coworker. Pretend like it didn't hurt; kick yourself for grimacing when you should be producing a convincing smile. Gradually realize that the pain is getting worse, not better, and that you may have broken your finger. Shit, it's bent. Did it always look like that? Do I need to go to the ER? Glance at your coworker; she hasn't noticed the tears welling up in your eyes. Announce too loudly that you need to run to the restroom. Hide there, running cold water on your finger, until you can convince yourself it was always slightly bent and that if your future husband really loves you he won't mind. Worry that you've been in the restroom too long and that someone will assume you're up to something. Consider faking puke noises to further your bulimia charade; decide against it in case the CEO overhears. Sneak back to your desk; announce too loudly that you stopped by the kitchen for some water.
TO BE CONTINUED.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Nip/Tuck's Life Lessons
Believe me, it was tough to narrow it down to 10.
1. Plastic surgery can fix anything. Missing an arm? Here you go, and this one shoots lasers. Face burned off? No problem! Penis enlargement? So easy, we'll let this teenager do it. Rosie O'Donnell? Well... they can make her noticeably less obese.
2. Every plastic surgeon will either develop an addiction to nitrous oxide or murder people with it. So uh, don't get plastic surgery.
3. Even though your child is born with a horrendous physical disability (say, crab hands), you can just leave him with the babysitter indefinitely after you're done banging midgets to get through your own emotional turmoil.
4. That HIV-positive lady you hooked up with, unprotected? Don't worry about that, you're going to have bigger problems once you invariably shove her off a roof.
5. Oh, except your crimes don't have any repercussions; you can just self-medicate until everyone else forgets about whoever you murdered/kidnapped/robbed. Be careful though; the same goes for your enemies.
6. On the other hand, anything you do to hurt someone feelings will be brought up EVERY TIME you see them, ever. For the rest of your life. So you should just lie instead.
7. Porn is a very lucrative and classy industry.
8. You never know who might be secretly a man/woman. What you can count on is that everyone is gay.
9. Just accept the fact that you're related to everyone and forget you ever knew the definition of incest. It's okay to keep banging your mom or sister as long as you didn't know who she was the first time. Also, it's not weird that you're the grandfather of your girlfriend's daughter, or that your husband is leaving you for the underage daughter of your ex-mother-in-law's girlfriend. Happens all the time.
10. You never have to feel guilty about being a dick to everyone, as long as you're very handsome. If you're ugly though, you should (and probably will) kill yourself.
What do you think - any other invaluable life lessons I'm missing?
1. Plastic surgery can fix anything. Missing an arm? Here you go, and this one shoots lasers. Face burned off? No problem! Penis enlargement? So easy, we'll let this teenager do it. Rosie O'Donnell? Well... they can make her noticeably less obese.
2. Every plastic surgeon will either develop an addiction to nitrous oxide or murder people with it. So uh, don't get plastic surgery.
3. Even though your child is born with a horrendous physical disability (say, crab hands), you can just leave him with the babysitter indefinitely after you're done banging midgets to get through your own emotional turmoil.
4. That HIV-positive lady you hooked up with, unprotected? Don't worry about that, you're going to have bigger problems once you invariably shove her off a roof.
5. Oh, except your crimes don't have any repercussions; you can just self-medicate until everyone else forgets about whoever you murdered/kidnapped/robbed. Be careful though; the same goes for your enemies.
6. On the other hand, anything you do to hurt someone feelings will be brought up EVERY TIME you see them, ever. For the rest of your life. So you should just lie instead.
7. Porn is a very lucrative and classy industry.
8. You never know who might be secretly a man/woman. What you can count on is that everyone is gay.
9. Just accept the fact that you're related to everyone and forget you ever knew the definition of incest. It's okay to keep banging your mom or sister as long as you didn't know who she was the first time. Also, it's not weird that you're the grandfather of your girlfriend's daughter, or that your husband is leaving you for the underage daughter of your ex-mother-in-law's girlfriend. Happens all the time.
10. You never have to feel guilty about being a dick to everyone, as long as you're very handsome. If you're ugly though, you should (and probably will) kill yourself.
What do you think - any other invaluable life lessons I'm missing?
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