Archive for July, 2008
July 15th, 2008
In general, other than in science- and math-related fields, simple, Americanized (or Anglicized) plurals of adopted “foreign” words are best. In most other instances, then, use “indexes” instead of “indices,” “appendixes” instead of “appendices,” “formulas” (not “formulae”), “spectrums” (not “spectra”), “funguses” (not “fungi”), “cactuses” (not “cacti”) and “octopuses” (not “octopi”).
Some additional considerations, mostly inspired by (or lifted from) “Garner’s Modern American Usage” by Bryan A. Garner:
The word “indices” is considered “permissible in the sense ‘indicators.’ ” Why not just use “indicators,” then?
Webster’s gives either “fungi” or “funguses” for the plural, implying that they’re equally acceptable. Again, I vote for the consistency of “funguses,” if for no other reason than not having to decide how to pronounce “fungi.”
The dictionary also offers both “cactuses” and “cacti,” but unless you’re a botanist, stay with “cactuses.”
As for “octopi,” Garner says that’s not even correct in its language of origin. He says the proper Greek plural is “octopodes.”
As I’ve said before, once English “borrows” a word, it often gets customized. In this case, “octopuses” grabs me, “octopi” doesn’t.
July 10th, 2008
The word “crumb” comes from the Old English “cruma,” literally, “scraping from bread crust.” It is related to similar Dutch and German words.
It also can apply to “any bit or scrap” (Webster’s uses “crumbs of knowledge”). In slang, a crumb is “a worthless, disgusting, or despicable person,” also known as a “crumbum.”
The notion that something that crumbles easily when it shouldn’t is substandard gives us the related slang adjective “crummy.” Note that in this preferred spelling, the silent “b” has also become invisible, replaced by another “m.” I suppose this removes any temptation to pronounce the “b.”
“Crummy” means “dirty, cheap, shabby, disgusting, etc.” or “inferior, worthless, contemptible, etc.”
The verb “crumble,” for “to disintegrate” or go to pieces, should not be confused with “crumple,” which is “to crush together into creases or wrinkles” or “to cause to collapse.”
You can crumple a piece of paper in an instant. It might take years for it to crumble.
July 9th, 2008
Is there a difference in meaning between “I understand how you feel” and “I know how you feel”? I look at it as the difference between “sympathy” and “empathy.”
The first one, sympathy, is more intellectual: I can imagine what you must be going through, and I share your grief. It works on many levels. That’s why we have sympathy cards instead of empathy cards.
The second, empathy, means I’ve been there, so I know what it’s like. From this perspective, I don’t think males can be empathetic when it comes to childbirth. We should be overflowing with sympathy, though.Â
These are not necessarily accepted distinctions. It’s just the way I look at it. Here are some other takes on the two:
From “Garner’s Modern American Usage” by Bryan A. Garner: ” ‘Empathy’ is the ability to imagine oneself in another person’s position and to experience all the sensations connected with it. ‘Sympathy’ is compassion for or commiseration with another.”
From “Words on Words” by John B. Bremner: ” ‘Empathy’ is stronger and more personal than ’sympathy.’ ‘Empathy’ involves vicarious identification and extends beyond feelings of pity or commiseration to an understanding of the very soul of another.”
From “Right, Wrong, and Risky” by Mark Davidson: “Use ‘empathy’ for the ability to identify with the feelings or thoughts of someone else. Use ’sympathy’ for the spontaneous reaction of pity.”
The dictionary says “empathy” is “the projection of one’s own personality into the personality of another in order to understand the person better” or “ability to share in another’s emotions, thoughts, or feelings.” For “sympathy” it has several definitions, one of them sounding a lot like “empathy”: “an entering into, or the ability to enter into, another person’s mental state, feelings, emotions, etc.”
Still trying to sort them out? I sympathize. Or maybe I empathize. Anyway, I feel your pain.
July 8th, 2008
When “goer” is attached to a word to add the meaning “one that attends regularly or frequents,” it usually doesn’t need a hyphen.
Among those that can be found in the dictionary are “churchgoer,” “concertgoer,” “filmgoer” or “moviegoer,” and “theatergoer.”
As with most things, it’s possible to go too far. For example, when faced with how to handle “Oktoberfest goer,” I would go with two words, for two reasons.
First, “goer” is a legitimate word all by itself.
Second, using it as one word, “Oktoberfestgoer,” is, as Mel Brooks might say, too German. Sure, it’s the appropriate cultural connection, but we don’t want to get into the habit of creating these unwieldy monsters.
Remember: We have to be able to say them, too.
Of course, another option is to recast a sentence so you don’t need any goers. Make the goers gone.
July 3rd, 2008
One of the standards of good writing is maintaining what is called parallel construction. The idea basically boils down to keeping things logical and balanced.
A common area where a sentence can get out of whack is in a series of items. Here’s a typical example:
“Nearly 40.5 million people are expected on the roads, rails and skies this weekend.”
It’s a nice, concise way to cover three modes of transportation — too concise.
It’s OK until we get to flying. People are going to be on the roads and on the rails, but they won’t be on the skies. They will be “in” the skies.
Many readers will skip over this lapse in logic and understand what is meant, but writers shouldn’t take that for granted. An easy fix, although it doesn’t flow quite as well:
“Nearly 40.5 million people are expected on the roads and rails and in the skies this weekend.”
We lost a comma, added three words and preserved logic. It’s a good trade.
July 2nd, 2008
I’ve noticed a tendency to hyphenate the adjective “newfound,” but no hyphen is needed. The way I remember it is the Canadian province “Newfoundland”: If that doesn’t need a hyphen, why should “newfound”?
Other Webster’s preferences on “new” words (proper names not included):
One word: newborn, newcomer, newlywed and, my favorite, newfangled.
Two words: new blood, new moon, new wave, new year and new math, which isn’t new anymore.
Hyphenated: new-mown (for describing freshly cut hay or grass) and new-fashioned.
The latter is the opposite of “old-fashioned,” which, when capitalized, is a cocktail containing whiskey, bitters, sweetening and a touch of water with a garnish of fruit. I haven’t heard of a drink called a “new-fashioned,” probably because the recipe would have to keep changing.
Cheers!
July 1st, 2008
I received an inquiry on whether “streetscape” is a legitimate word. Yes, it is, but you have to look hard to find it.
I tracked it down in the Addenda section of the unabridged Webster’s Third New International, which means it undoubtedly will be a mainstream entry by the next edition.
The combining form “-scape,” in this sense meaning “a (specified) kind of view or scene,” has so far attached itself to “land,” “city,” “sea” and “water,” to name a few.
It’s not the same one used in “scapegoat” and “escape,” however.
And continuing my tradition of groaner plays on words, an “escape” is also something Superman wears.
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