O O Ø O O O O
Clay Pidgins
Everyone likes a cunning linguist.
Linguistically speaking, why can’t the leaders of today be more like their predecessors? You know who I mean: the Winston Churchills; the Abraham Lincolns; the Martin Luther Kings; that guy from Independence Day. People who could really speak. Leaders who could inspire their people to take up arms, or put them down merely by talking. What happened to those people?
The fact is, the leaders of today are simply not good speakers. Now, perhaps I have been watching too much daytime TV. Perhaps I’ve gone soft and materialistic. Perhaps I’m badly misunderestimating our leaders’ linguistic gifts. Perhaps it’s just that our leaders speak so much, that the law of averages says they will say something dumb from time to time. After all, didn’t Dan Quayle teach us that verbosity leads to unclear, inarticulate things?
Like, four score and seven years ago our fathers like brought forth on this continent a like, totally new nation, conceived in like, liberty and stuff and dedicated to the proposition that like, all guys are the same, you know?
Perhaps, but I don’t buy it. Even with the best speech writers in the business, many of these guys are terrible communicators.
I’m not picking on Dubya here. After all, the Great White North has a leader who is incapable of communicating in either official language. The problem is widespread. We’re desperately short on cunning linguists, and the problem is only getting worser.
One camping trip, not too long ago, I found myself embroiled in a debate on the importance of grammar (and spelling) with a teacher-in-training. I was arguing that grammar was important. The teacher was arguing otherwise. His counter-argument ran something along these lines: The computer can catch any mistakes you make. The teaching time is much better spent in other areas.
I know I came up with some brilliant arguments at the time. I don’t recall any of them any more. (It was a camping trip, so I was necessarily three sheets to the wind.) When I awoke the next morning, I had only a vague recollection of anger associated with the semi-colon. As a result, I’m forced to come up with newer, and more brilliant arguments to support my point.
Knock at the bleedin’ Dorothy Lamour Bobby Moore and God in Heaven Donkey’s Ears ago our fathers brought forf on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated ter de bloomin’ proposition that aw men ’re created equal.
Intuitively, grammar and spelling have a purpose. I received a letter in the mail recently, from a man purporting to be a professional. The letter itself was typed entirely in uppercase, and contained, on average, two spelling or grammar errors per sentence. Ironically, the intent of the letter was to attack the credibility and professionalism of an organisation that chose not to renew his contract. For obvious reasons, the letter was ignored, the man was dismissed as an idiot, and life resumed its natural course. Grammar and spelling are important, yes, but they are not an end unto themselves. The ability to communicate clearly and effectively is the ultimate goal.
Of course, communication without the constrictions imposed by grammar and spelling is possible. In fact, this type of communication occurs all the time. We call it slang.
4sc0r n7 yzgo R fdrz brt 4th 1 nu n8shn ddc8td 2 lbty n pr0psn tht * ppl R =
Slang is a kind of pidgin. It’s a form of lowest-common denominator communication usually adopted by those of varied linguistic backgrounds who come together in a group. If we ignore the desert island scenarios for a minute, slang is a constantly evolving means of communication which, among other things, delineates various social structures. If you don’t speak the lingo, you’re not part of the group. Slang is what separates us from our parents, and those people we hated through high school.
But if slang exists, and it works, why insist on an arbitrary set of rules like grammar and spelling?
Simply put, pidgins don’t generalize. Just because language has meaning for you and your peer group doesn’t mean that it means anything to an outsider. Ever overhear a group of Glaswegians in the pub? Ever receive email from a 15-year old IM-crazed niece? What’s worse, pidgins (or slang) sound ridiculous coming from someone outside a particular demographic. Picture your mother walking up to a group of your friends and saying: “How is it hanging, homies?” First, she’s probably going to get the jargon wrong. And second, it just plain sounds ridiculous.
Four-hundred — uh, forty — a while ago, my dad and his prececessors made on this hemisphere this America, which includes Texas, conceived in the freedom the Almighty God has given us, and dedicated to the idea that we should hunt down, one by one, all those who hate these freedoms.
Clear communication requires rules. Grammar and spelling help define those rules. There is no question that language evolves. Its evolution, however, is slow. This makes a certain amount of sense, as any change to, say, the English language, will require quite a bit of time to be adopted by the a majority of English-speakers.
Grammar and spelling do change over time. So do the rules of hockey. When playing a pickup game at a foreign rink, however, you slip back into the canonical rules of play. If you’re not sure whether contact is allowed, you assume it isn’t. You don’t hog the puck. You don’t ever touch the goalie. It doesn’t matter how you and the boys back home play the game. Playing in your home rink style could earn you a beatin’.
Language is exactly the same. When you’re being professional; when you’re communicating outside of your peer group; when you’re speaking to a wide audience, it is important know the rules of communication. Grammar and spelling are the basis of these rules. Failure to grasp (or accept) them means that you may not communicate your point clearly. You could well be misunderstood, or mocked.
Or worst of all: misunderestimated.
Where’s Churchill when you need him?
Tuesday, March 11, 2003
PD DXC