Archive for January, 2009
January 30th, 2009
Let’s get back to problems with “as.” When making comparisons with phrases involving “as,” sometimes the second “as” gets dropped. Here are two examples of this:
“Research said only half as many children were vaccinated than was claimed in agency reports.”
“The vice president has been at odds with President Smith as often, if not more often, than Smith’s nemesis, the speaker of the House.”
The first type is simpler. The proper phrase is “as many as,” but in the above example it has become “as many than.” Replace “than” with “as.”
When too many words intrude in the middle of the phrase, it’s easy to get distracted. Always check a sentence with an “as” in it to see if another is needed. They often work in pairs.
The second example is another case in point, but with a different issue. It makes two comparisons, one saying things are equal, the other saying they’re not. Once again the second “as,” which would complete “as often as,” is missing. There are several solutions.
You could put “as” where it belongs and move a comma, but the sentence gets unwieldy: “The vice president has been at odds with President Smith as often as, if not more often than, Smith’s nemesis, the speaker of the House.”
A second option: Move the second part to the end: “The vice president has been at odds with President Smith as often as Smith’s nemesis, the speaker of the House, if not more often.”
Even cleaner: “The vice president has been at odds with President Smith at least as often as has Smith’s nemesis, the speaker of the House.” The phrase “at least as often as” covers both scenarios.
January 29th, 2009
We interrupt our regularly scheduled blogging to bring you this language bulletin:
A new comment on an old entry asks “Is it ‘low-laying island’ or ‘low-lying island’? Why?”
Rather than just respond to the old one, I’m making a new one.
First, the correct phrase is “low-lying island.” The island is in a low horizontal position: That’s “lying.”
“Laying” requires an object: The island would have to be putting something else in a low position.
At the risk of adding to the confusion, I feel obligated to mention that “lay low” and “lie low” are established idiomatic phrases, but they have specific meanings.
To “lay low” is “to cause to fall by hitting” or “to overcome or kill.” It can be used figuratively for making someone feel low, in the same way that a “low blow” doesn’t have to be physical.
To “lie low” is “to keep oneself hidden or inconspicuous” or “to wait patiently for an opportunity.” For example, “Let’s lie low until this thing blows over.”
The second is fairly common. Unfortunately, there’s a better than even chance that when you encounter it, it is misused as “lay low.”
To “lay” is to put or place something. Unless that’s the intended meaning, the correct word is probably “lie.”
January 28th, 2009
Here’s another “as” issue that tends to divide the experts.
The simplest point of view is that “as if” and “as though” are interchangeable: Choose the one that sounds better for each occasion.
There, wasn’t that easy? And all you have to do is accept the argument of Theodore M. Bernstein in “The Careful Writer.”
Calling the justification “uncomplicated and ancient,” he writes: “An old meaning of ‘though’ is ‘if,’ which is now obsolete except in the expression ‘as though.’ ”
As long as you think of “as though” as an idiomatic unit, it’s the same as “as if.”
Those who insist the two are different focus on the individual words “if” and “though.” The former is an adverbial conjunction of condition, the latter an adverbial conjunction of concession. When breaking it down this way, they say, “as though” loses out because it “doesn’t make sense.”
The Associated Press Stylebook simply says “as if” is “the preferred form, but ‘as though’ is acceptable.” After more than 35 years in the newspaper business, I suspect the key here is “as if” is shorter. Newspapers are always looking to save space.
The safest option is to go with “as if” unless you have a compelling reason for “as though.”
January 27th, 2009
The longer you study this crazy language of ours, the more you’ll find areas of disagreement among the experts. This probably explains why I tend to be less pedantic than when I was younger: I’m less sure that I know it all now.
As an example, you find a lot of hairsplittting over choosing between “like” and “such as” before examples. Mark Davidson, in “Right, Wrong, and Risky,” has a simple explanation of the distinction drawn by some: “like” is “for showing resemblance” and “such as” is “for introducing examples.” His illustration using both: “Brilliant educators like Sally exhibit qualities such as dedication and diligence.”
In “Lapsing Into a Comma,” Bill Walsh adds this bit of fine-tuning: “The phrase ‘players like Borg, Connors and McEnroe’ can be read as excluding the very players it mentions. If the meaning is ‘Borg, Connors, McEnroe and players like them,’ you could phrase it just like that, or you could write ‘players such as Borg, Connors and McEnroe.’ ”
I’m going to side with the more permissive commentators on this one. In “Woe Is I,” while acknowledging there can be exceptions, Patricia T. O’Conner writes: “It’s a matter of taste — either is acceptable. To my ear, ‘like’ sounds better; ’such as’ has a more formal air.”
I’m not a big fan of formality: It may come from those wool dress pants when I was a boy. Besides, I prefer to put my ‘don’t do that!’ energy into other usage problems. Some of those also feature “as,” which I’ll address in upcoming entries.
January 24th, 2009
When something occurs every year, it’s called “annual.”
For something that occurs twice a year, we have two terms, which seems appropriate on some level: “biannual” and “semiannual.”
Most other such words use “-ennial” for the “year” part.
“Biennial” is every other year. To distinguish it from “biannual,” it helps to think of it as “once every two years” to match other members of the family: “quadrennial,” once every four years (as in U.S. presidential elections); “centennial,” once in 100 years; “sesquicentennial,” 150 years; and “bicentennial,” 200 years.
Slightly straying from this parade of logic, an annual plant is one that lasts only one year (or season). A plant that makes an annual comeback is a “perennial.”
January 22nd, 2009
Amid all the inauguration coverage was a description of the economy as appearing to be “more foreboding” than any at the start of an administration since FDR’s in 1933.
A “foreboding” is a “prediction, portent or presentiment, especially of something bad or harmful.”
We chose to substitute “forbidding” — “looking dangerous, threatening or disagreeable: repellent.” The difference is in acknowledging that while things certainly might get worse, they already look plenty bad.
“Forbidding” also is not the same as “forbidden,” which is “not permitted; prohibited.”
In Eden, according to the Bible, there was the “forbidden fruit.” Unfortunately for Adam and Eve, and some say for the rest of us as well, the fruit was much more tempting than forbidding. One of them should have had a foreboding.
January 21st, 2009
The word for the day — yesterday, that is — was “inauguration.” To inaugurate is “to start,” “to dedicate” or “to induct (an official) into office with a formal ceremony.”
Tuesday’s inauguration of the 44th president of the United States was a combination of those three: the formal induction of Barack Obama, the start of his administration and a dedication to public service.
Interestingly, that “augur” in the middle of “inauguration” is about the future. “Inaugurate” comes from the Latin verb “inaugurare,” meaning “to practice augury; to consecrate (a person in office) by augury.” In ancient Rome, an augur was an official who interpreted omens concerning the prospects for success of a particular endeavor.
Generally, an “augur” is “a fortuneteller; prophet; soothsayer,” and an “augury” is “an omen; portent; indication.”
An inaugural seems an entirely appropriate place, then, for a president to lay out his vision for the future.
January 20th, 2009
The gallbladder is a sac connected to the liver to hold its excess “gall,” also known as “bile.” This fluid is secreted by the liver to aid in digestion, particularly of fats.
In ancient physiology, two biles were identified: black, thought to cause melancholy, and yellow, considered the source of anger and irritability. From the latter association, “bile” is sometimes used to mean “bitterness; anger.”
“Gall” also has its general applications. It can mean “something that is bitter or distasteful,” “bitter feeling; rancor” or “rude boldness; impudence; audacity.”
To say someone has gall, then, is not really the same as calling that person courageous. In fact, it’s actually saying that person is showing “unmitigated insolence.” It’s not a compliment, for instance, to say Americans had the gall to elect Barack Obama.
So, you might well ask, what’s “gall” doing hanging out with “audacity” in that definition? Didn’t Obama himself call one of his books “The Audacity of Hope”?
This is true. And as Webster’s says of “audacity,” it “suggests either great presumption or defiance of social conventions, morals, etc.” That second part has advocating change written all over it.
Fortunately for “audacity,” it didn’t start out as “bile,” so its principal association has remained “bold courage; daring.” This is true to its pedigree, beginning with the Latin verb “audere,” for “to dare, be bold.”
To be audacious is generally considered a good thing; to have gall is not — except after eating.
January 17th, 2009
Verbs often pair up with prepositions to form idiomatic phrases. When they’ve been around long enough, they often merge to become adjectives and nouns.
For example, the verb phrase “kick off” is two words: “Organizers will kick off the campaign Friday.”
The adjective and noun forms are one word: “The kickoff luncheon has been postponed.” “He ran the opening kickoff back for a touchdown.”
They don’t always follow this evolutionary path, but it’s the most common one. Other “off” combos that conform to this pattern include “castoff,” “cutoff,” “layoff,” “liftoff” and “takeoff.”
As always, the best policy is to look it up. But if you like to gamble, bet on two words for a verb-preposition pair and one word for the adjective or noun.Â
January 16th, 2009
Single-syllable words that rhyme with the pronoun “us” and are spelled with just one “s” are rare. I can think of only four, other than proper names and abbreviations: “bus,” “plus,” “thus” and “pus.”
When forming plurals for the first two — or other verbs forms for “bus” — the preferred option is to NOT double the “s”:
“I ride the bus to work. The city has a fleet of 20 buses.”
“She said she considers that a plus. Let’s weigh the pluses and minuses of the plan.”
Another factor in this preference: There is such a word as “buss,” meaning “kiss,” although it’s now considered chiefly dialectical.
Notice the difference between “He buses 45 students every school day” and “He busses 45 students every school day.” The former is a busy driver; the latter is a lawsuit waiting to happen.
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