Punctuation Sticklers
Unite
By Erik Deckers
Punctuation miscreants, beware. There's a new punctuation book in town, called
Eats Shoots and Leaves by British punctuation stickler Lynn Truss. She
condemns the illiterate, stupid, and greengrocers of the world, who misuse and
abuse proper punctuation.
You know the ones. These are the people who put apostrophes in things like
"DVD's," "1970's," or "it's" for the possessive of "it." They misplace commas,
and are never sure if they mean "woman, without her, man is helpless" or "woman,
without her man, is helpless."
Truss rails against them and urges the grammar mavens of the world to rise up in
protest against the slow tortuous death of the English language.
"Sticklers unite, you have nothing to lose but your sense of proportion, and
arguably you didn't have a lot of that to begin with," she admonishes us.
Maybe she's right. We don't have a sense of proportion. It's not a big deal if
people write things like "i'ts" or "your on fire," right? I mean, there are more
important things in life to worry about, and this is just a teeny-tiny little
problem that is hardly worth our attention.
So why is it like fingernails on a chalkboard to some of us? What is it about a
misplaced apostrophe, a missing hyphen, or those people who refer to this-- . .
. -- as "dot dot dot" instead of "ellipsis" that sets our teeth on edge?
Self-satisfaction is part of it. We feel good about ourselves. There's just
something gratifying about feeling smarter than other people.
Oh, I know. Were not supposed to feel that way. Everyone is equal and no one is
better than everyone else, right? Then why did you feel a smug little spark of
victory when you discovered I missed the apostrophe in "we're" in the second
sentence of this paragraph?
See what I mean?
We also feel a sense of belonging. We're in a special club. A club made up of
people who know things that others don't, like the true name of "dot dot dot,"
or what an Oxford comma is. (It's the last comma before "and," as in "gold,
silver, and bronze.")
I, for one, love the Oxford comma. I have lived and died by that little comma
for years. Most journalists ignore it, some editors have been known to draw and
quarter writers for using it, but I have stuck to my guns. I even got into a
heated argument with my college newspaper editor about it. Just knowing that
this particular comma has a name makes it even more special. And it makes me a
charter member of the know-it-all club.
Of course, there are some people who look down on us punctuation sticklers as
dorks in dire need of better sense of proportion.
"Get a life," they hiss at us. "God, who cares?" they ask mockingly.
I saw a t-shirt with "your retarded" written on the front. When someone would
comment on the error -- it should say "you're retarded" -- the slack-jawed,
mouth-breathing wearer could then point out that the other person was the
retarded one, because he didn't get the joke.
Personally, I think it was a mistake by the dunderheaded moron who wrote the
t-shirt, but didn't realize his gaffe until it was too late.
"Hey, I know," he said to himself, between bites of Ramen noodles, as he watched
professional wrestling on TV, "I'll say it's a joke and make the smart people
feel dumb." He then nearly choked to death on a Ramen noodle, because he was
breathing through his mouth and chewing at the same time.
Oftentimes, punctuation sticklers are hurt and confused by other people's
unwillingness to learn basic punctuation rules. "We're only trying to make you a
better person!" we wail.
These anti-punctuation snobs are just jealous. They're jealous of our rapier
punctuation wit and our ease at spotting errata they otherwise missed. At least
that's what my mom would say. She often said things like this when I was a young
boy, which was particularly helpful at times, like when mean kids made fun of my
pants.
Unfortunately, our efforts are often unappreciated or wasted, which is a shame,
because the scoffer only ends up looking like more of a moron than he already
did.
I remember several years ago, driving past a local printing company whose
billboard advertised for a press operator position. "Experience nesessary," the
sign said. I called them and pointed out the error. After all, a printing
company should be able to spell correctly, right?
"You need a 'c' in necessary," I told the woman on the other end. She thanked me
rather snottily, and said someone would fix it. I could hear the "get a life"
undertone in her voice.
Given all the stories I had heard about this particular company, I wasn't too
surprised the next day when I saw the correction they had made.
"Experience nessecary."
Now who's the dork?
Erik Deckers has been a humor columnist for more than
ten years, but a punctuation stickler for only five. He is also an award-winning
radio theater and stage playwright, business writer, and public speaker. Oh, and
he has a day job in there somewhere, too. You can find his work at
www.humorcolumnists.com.
