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clarenecessities · 3 years

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4/15/21

most days i can tamp down on the combined instincts of my alphabet soup brain, but today was like.... not that day

i had a small epiphany yesterday about eternia/etheria in that the ether is “space” and eternity is obviously time, so they’re like. you see? they’re spacetime. but spacetime is merely the stage upon which physics dance so i went on a very light retread of relativity, briefly detoured into time dilation/the planet of the apes movies, and in the process brushed up against apeiron

i’ve come across it before but had never investigated its origins, but it seemed like, you know, a cool word, and i’ve been doing a lot of research to pick an overarching name for the feline humanoids in my she-ra graph, right, because D’riluth iii is a stupid fucking name and I don’t want catra to be a subspecies of “““Driluthian”““ so i was like hey. is there a way to make this look less like ‘ape’

so it turns out kind of yes and no? the doric version of apeiros is transliterated as epeiros, which is also the spelling of ‘mainland’ (whence Epirus). of course, that led to epeirid, an adjectival form of Epeira.

“well, okay,” i said to myself, “is it like infinite, or like mainland? what does either have to do with spiders?” but of course wiktionary had no etymology listed. rather than using my brain and googling “epeira etymology” which would have taken me directly to the merriam-webster (heh. web) definition, i just googled epeira and found the fucking uh. wikipedia article for Araneus, because Epeira was the genus name for all of ten years. and like, okay. in my defense. the root they’ve listed is wrong. we’ll come back to that later.

so this french bitch had written a treatise on them in 1805, right? describing the members of the genus? so i was like fine. fuck it. whatever. maybe he explained why he picked it. so i looked up the fucking Tableau des aranéides ou caractères essentiels des tribus, genres, familles et races que renferme le genre Aranea de Linné, avec la désignation des espèces comprises dans chacune de ces divisions. because if the french know one thing, it’s brevity.

“it’s fine,” i said, “i’ll just ctrl+f Epeira and get to the good shit,” i said. of course the only version online was on a spider website that you needed an account for. i was like you know what? fine. whatever. i made an account for the spider website. i gained access to the pdf of the 1805 french spider report. the 1805 spider report did not have searchable text.

this was around the point that i realized i was being deranged.

i read the fucking spider report. could have skimmed it! should have, probably! but i was so convinced i was going to skip over the explanation that i read the whole damn intro, right up until he starts describing the little bastards. considering my french is kindergarten level i owe most of it to the cognate power of science words. thank you, historical nerds, for being weaboos for greco-roman shit. you nailed it this time.

about 50 pages into the old timey spider pamphlet, i found a spelling en francaise. épéire. okay, sweet. googled that. it’s a modern french word, with one fewer accent, épeire--garden spider. etymologie just called back to Epeira. i returned to the spamphlet. i found another spelling, épéïre. this one yielded the french wikipedia article for Epeira.

“okay, fine,” i said, “fuck it, i’m 60 pages into a fucking spider report from 1805, i can read wikipedia.“

eureka. french wikipedia yielded the answer to my prayers. ἐπί (epí, “upon, on”) + εἴρω (eírō, “weave, string”). i updated wiktionary immediately, after a brief but ferocious battle to understand how the fuck their coding works.

my dudes, the euphoria was off the charts. never have i felt so accomplished. i hunted that motherfucker down like a dog. i dispersed this information to the masses, to save some hapless future nerd the trouble. i am never going to die.

oh also merriam-webster has it listed as “New Latin, from epi- + -eira (from Greek eirein to fasten in rows, string together)“ but like not only does it neglect to show greek letters, it’s not from eira. eirein isn’t even a god damn word! i can only assume they mean εἰρήνη (eirḗnē), because it means ‘to tie together’ literally, but in practice it means peace! and it’s still derived from eírō, not the other way around! i don’t even know where the -a comes from, unless they’re suggesting it’s in the fucking aorist. this is why it’s important to include the greek spelling. transliteration is fucking dumb.

i digress. the point is, sometimes being a nerd is a gateway to insane levels of dopamine, and i’m drunk on etymology

#daily clare #long posts #clare does research sometimes #oh also i got my vaccine today #huzzah

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easyreaderediting · 5 years

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Anachronisms: Timing Is Everything

Fiction writers create worlds we can immerse ourselves in. They often create entire universes that are nothing like the known world, allowing us to imagine "what if?" as we read.

There’s Always a “But”

But fiction that's set in our own world—current-day, ancient history, or somewhere between—needs to make sense within the boundaries of that world. We would no sooner give Cleopatra a can of Coca-Cola than we would have Columbus crossing the seas on an ocean liner.

Some items are a little more subtle, though, and that's where it pays to do your research. A book I read years ago was set in medieval times, but the little children were amusing themselves by making parchment paper airplanes. I read another where the main character slammed her cell phone shut in anger—too bad it had already been mentioned that she had a smart phone, which was (even then) a far cry from the early flip phones . . . and with nothing to shut.

This type of slip-up is called an anachronism, "an error in chronology," according to Merriam-Webster's dictionary—something that's out of place because it's out of time.

At best, goof-ups like this will cause readers to leave scathing remarks in their reviews. It's frustrating to be pulled from the fictional world by typos, bad grammar, and the like. It's even more frustrating when the created world that's surrounding you is ripped away like cardboard walls on a theater set.

It Only Takes a Moment to Fact-Check

At worst, though, lack of research on the writer's part just might make the decision for an acquisitions editor as to whether a manuscript gets a deeper look or the slush pile. I recently read a post from someone who evaluates self-published books for an industry publication to determine whether they will be considered for review. He said one book looked promising and had a nice cover, so he read the preview on Amazon, hoping to give the book a good shot at a helpful industry review. However, in the first three pages of the book, there was a scene in which a character screamed for someone to get an epi-pen. The scene was set in 1979, and the evaluator took about 30 seconds of Googling to determine that epi-pens did not come to the market until 1987. He said the way the scene played out, there was no epi-pen available anyway (in the story world), so the scene could have functioned just fine without that line. The result? Trash can for that book. The evaluator mentioned what a waste it was for that writer to sabotage their own sales, due to sloppiness.

I once edited a manuscript set in the present day in which a centuries-old character used a particular apparatus (and had, since medieval days) that wasn't invented until the early 1800s. I made sure to mention it to the author, because these things are important to the readers. Just because a world is being created doesn't mean real-life things can just appear wherever the author thinks they're cool. Even fiction needs to make sense, and simple fact-checking can make or break whether people will continue to read to the end of your book. Granted, there will always be those readers who don’t notice a thing, but the people who can propel your book to the next level will always notice because it’s their job to notice.

The Buck Stops Where?

Ultimately, research for accuracy falls to the author. After all, it’s their book and their responsibility to think through such things as what type of armor was used in the Middle Ages, the shooting distance of various handguns, clothing material most common in Ancient Egypt, food and cooking trends in the 1960s, and much more.

The editor has a responsibility as well. Yes, the author is first and last in this, but a decent editor does a lot of fact-checking along the way through a manuscript. During a recent memoir edit, I did so much looking up of places and names that my style sheet ended up with hundreds of entries on a multi-page spreadsheet. It was well worth the time, though, because I was reminded of something I learned in a copyediting class last year: just because it’s not a typo doesn’t mean it’s accurate. The memoir featured the first and last names of hundreds of people in the entertainment industry, both in the US and South Africa. And the internet is only as accurate as those who enter its data. Even some of the bigger names were spelled differently from website to journal article to social media page. Thank goodness, the author was still in contact with many of the people whose name spellings I needed to verify, and he happily provided anything I couldn’t find on my own. The best thing about it was that he was genuinely appreciative and impressed that I’d gone to so much trouble to get it right.

Don’t Stress—Just Do the Research

Movies are famous for having anachronisms that moviegoers revel in catching: the kilts worn in Braveheart, for example, that weren’t in use in Scotland until well after William Wallace’s time. Sometimes they’re used for cinematic effect, and other times, they’re not intentional at all.

In the literary world, even famous writers screw up now and then. William Shakespeare had quite a few anachronisms in his plays, including referring to a clock in Julius Caesar. Clocks were certainly not around in 44 AD—not clocks as we know them, anyway, capable of striking the hour in the manner that Cassius mentions in Act 2, scene 1 (“The clock has stricken three”). He didn’t have editors in the modern sense, but I don’t think his audience noticed or cared about his oopses anyway, since most of them were unable to read and most likely didn’t notice the errors when spoken in a live performance.

That’s not to say that today’s writers can use Shakespeare as their own “Get Out of Jail Free” card. We’re still responsible for publishing content that won’t make people put the book down in frustration.

The Obvious

Sometimes, anachronisms are so easy to spot that we can’t imagine how a writer or editor missed them. The parchment paper airplanes I mentioned earlier, for example. A book set in the early days of black & white television that refers to the onscreen vibrant colors on an actress’s evening gown. A reference to a bit of technology in a setting before it was actually invented.

Not So Obvious

Other times, the out-of-place-ness (yes, I just made that up, but I like it so I’m keeping it) can be a lot more subtle. Words and phrases in our everyday usage have morphed as the language has adapted. Using the word “fantastic” in a current-day novel would most likely imply that something is excellent or superlative, e.g. “That was a fantastic vacation spot!” But if your novel is set in, perhaps, the 1700s, a character who used the word would imply that something was unbelievable, not real, based on fantasy: a “fantastic” device or invention, such as those in Jules Verne’s 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. Improper usage of a word is as bad as having a character say a word that isn’t in use until decades after the novel’s setting.

Readers are particularly harsh with authors who place weapons in the wrong time period. Some are eagle-eyed enough to catch that certain clothing is “off” by decades. I once read a book that was set in the current day, but the anachronisms were more season-specific, such as football practice at the high school only a month or two before graduation in the spring, or harvesting particular fruits out of season for the region.

At its best, it’s irritating enough to pull the reader out of a story. At worst, it’s lazy writing, and no writer wants to be known for carelessness. If you can’t be bothered to put the effort into your book, why should the reader keep reading?

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gethealthy18-blog · 5 years

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Dear Moms, Let’s Simplify Christmas (& Enjoy It) This Year!

New Post has been published on http://healingawerness.com/news/dear-moms-lets-simplify-christmas-enjoy-it-this-year/

Dear Moms, Let’s Simplify Christmas (& Enjoy It) This Year!

Let’s face it, while the movies portray images of happy families laughing around the kitchen table or in front of the fireplace during the Christmas season, often moms end up more stressed out and busier than ever. I know I fall into the trap, and each year I have to try again to stay focused on what matters and simplify Christmas.

We want this time of year to be filled with warm memories for our families and friends, and it is so easy to get wrapped up (pun intended) in the business of the season. It’s easy to want to be present and enjoy the moment, but there is often so much to do that this is difficult to accomplish.

There must be a better way!

Can We Simplify Christmas?

Over the years, our family (like many) has searched for ways to simplify Christmas while still giving our kids the traditions and memories that bring joy and happy memories.

I’ve written about some of the things that have worked for us, like prioritizing experiences over material gifts, limiting the number of presents per person, and focusing on a spirit of giving instead of receiving.

All that aside, it’s tough to recognize all of the outside forces that act on us despite our best intentions … and we wonder why we are again in Target on Christmas Eve at 10 P.M., when we really were going to be so intentional and simple this year!

Rejecting the Christmas Crisis

The ads, Facebook posts, and store displays seem to begin earlier every year exclaiming (I saw a store with a Christmas display in early October this year!): “There’s X number of days left until Christmas!”

Translation: “Hurry up! Only a few shopping days left!”

We all know this isn’t what the holidays should be about. It’s not what any of us wants for ourselves or our families. But somehow it just creeps in. The sense that we’re not giving enough … or doing the right things …

It’s time to take back Christmas! And yes, this may not be the year when you magically transform into the living embodiment of a Real Simple magazine article. (Wouldn’t we all love it if it was actually that easy?)

This may not be the year when you Konmari your house to perfection before placing carefully chosen (and of course eco-friendly) presents under the tree.

But this can be the year when you create enough space for you and your family to continue to shape and enjoy your traditions. The year when your picture of “the perfect Christmas” becomes a little clearer and a little more real.

And chances are it won’t take much!

Minimalism … Can It Go with Christmas?

Merriam Webster defines “minimalism” as “a style or technique that is characterized by extreme spareness and simplicity.” This buzzword has enjoyed a lot of popularity in recent years, especially since the bestselling book The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up came around.

I can buy simplicity, but “spareness”? Does this really go along with our idea of Christmas?

I have to believe there’s a way to be mindful and peaceful about Christmas without going to extremes. Maybe it’s more about a shift of mindset than going bare bones. About asking yourself — and your family — what is really important and crossing the rest off the list.

Our family tries to give only one material present per person. That may seem extreme to some. But over the years we’ve realized that experiences mean more to us (and our kids) than material presents, and we’ve moved toward a kind of Christmas that emphasizes quality over quantity.

That feels like the right kind of “minimalism” for us … but what is right for you? Here are a few ideas to try if you feel like you need to hit the pause button this holiday season.

Simplify Christmas by Finding Your Sweet Spot

These are the things I’ve found most helpful in simplifying Christmas. I try to hold on to these to help me focus on my family and not everything that needs to “get done” this year.

Evaluate Your Favorite Christmas Traditions

Think back on Christmases past. What are your most cherished memories? What should Christmas really be about? These could be from when you were a child or from times with your own children.

Chances are your best memories aren’t about stuff, but about time spent with others.

Take note of everything that stands out to you as a tradition you want to recreate. Write it down. Talk to the family about it.

Schedule the Essentials

Make a list of “must-dos” using the list of favorite Christmas memories for inspiration. Keep this list short — three or maybe five items at most. Pare it down to what really matters the most (spareness and simplicity!).

These must-do traditions will of course change over the years as a family grows. That’s the beauty of it.

You may have a special circumstance to navigate (a new baby, travel plans, a sick relative, a tight budget). Reevaluate and adjust, limiting yourself to what will give the most joy this year.

Maybe cooking is really important to your family. Maybe the annual shopping trip with your sisters gives the most joy. Maybe it’s time to try a new tradition like a family Christmas movie marathon, or singing in the choir at Midnight Mass.

Give priority to traditions that help you connect with friends and family. Put them on the calendar now and schedule the downtime to do them.

Bottom line, Konmari-style, say “yes” to what brings you joy.

And that means saying “no” to what doesn’t!

Review Christmases Past for Pitfalls That Stress You Out

We all have our little habits that rob us of our joy.

It could be overspending, overeating, or overdoing. It could be online shopping in the dead of night when we can’t sleep. It could be that urge to rush out two days before Christmas and buy just a little bit more.

All this leads to additional stress. More to store, more to return, more to clean up, and more post-holiday bills to pay.

Don’t get me wrong. I am not against giving gifts. I love the feeling of giving and receiving a well-chosen gift on Christmas. But I had to learn the hard way that I needed to simplify Christmas in order to preserve the meaning of the season.

If we can identify just one or two or three things that stress us out each year and eliminate it, that seems like a good kind of minimalism. Decide what you will say “no” to this year (and tell someone to keep you accountable). Maybe ask your spouse to do this with you!

Which goes with the next step …

Set a Budget and Number of Gifts

This is pretty generic advice, I know. But I can think back to plenty of years when I didn’t do it, or at least never committed to more than a vague idea of how much was “too much.”

Gift-giving gives joy and is a worthy tradition. Just look at the Three Kings who traveled so far to give their gifts to the Christ Child. But they could only carry so much with them.

It’s a rather shocking statistic that in the U.S., only 1% of the goods we buy are still in use 6 months later. Yes… only 1%! And it makes sense, doesn’t it? New things thrill us only for a little while.

“One of the enemies of happiness is adaptation,” says Dr. Thomas Gilovich, a psychology professor at Cornell University who has been studying the question of money and happiness for over two decades. “We buy things to make us happy, and we succeed. But only for a while. New things are exciting to us at first, but then we adapt to them.”

In fact we are more likely to remember and cherish experiences rather than material things. These become the stories we tell and relive.

Setting a budget and being choosy about the kinds of gifts we give helps us learn when to say “just right.”

Designate a “Give Back” Day or Week

Making room for what we receive often pains kids especially. Mention you’re about to get rid of something, and suddenly that thing is their “favorite.”

Am I right?

Designating a “Give Back” day (or even a week if you need it) gives everyone a chance to get in the right mindset and know the expectations. Read a book or watch a movie about the generosity of St. Nicholas to set the mood. This article has some helpful tips too for helping kids get on board.

Although we can certainly give back any time of year, I find it’s best to do this before Christmas so it doesn’t get forgotten.

Take a Picture of Each Gift to Review (Before Buying Anything Else)

It’s so easy to simply lose track of what we intend to give and what we already bought when it’s hidden away in the back of the closet!

Keep a digital record by snapping a pic and keeping an album in a secure spot. You can use apps like Evernote, Remember the Milk, or a Dropbox or Google Keep folder. Keep track of even small items like stocking stuffers. You can even screenshot a website to keep track of experience gifts.

Before you buy, take a look at the album and give yourself a cooling-off period to decide if it’s the right choice.

You can even move images to a new album or folder to keep track of returns or presents that didn’t make the cut but you might consider for next year.

When Things Go Wrong, Make An Act of Gratitude

G. K. Chesterton wrote, “I would maintain that thanks is the highest form of thought.” When things don’t go according to plan, control what you can: your thoughts.

Christmas traditions develop little by little, year by year, and sometimes with no advance planning. By learning to let go and let the memories happen we make room for shared experiences with the ones we love the most.

Show gratitude for what you have and give your kids and yourself the greatest gift of all this Christmas — a contented and present parent.

How do you stay grounded during the holidays? What are the traditions you want to make room for?

Source: https://wellnessmama.com/130653/simplify-christmas/

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literatelobstersareliterate · 6 years

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A Lexicographer’s Guide to Real Words | harm·less drudg·ery

A Lexicographer’s Guide to Real Words

One of the occupational hazards of being a lexicographer on social media is that you are often subjected to arguments about whether something is a word or not. Lexicographers see these complaints and swiftly scroll right on by them, though we do sometimes indulge in a judicious (and perfectly justified) subtweet. We’ve learned that arguing with people about whether something (usually “irregardless“) is a “real word” is a Sisyphean exercise in futility, and lexicographers get enough of that at work.

But that doesn’t help you, the person being hollered at on Twitter that “mines” isn’t a real word. Who better to tell you what a word actually is? So in the interest of settling all those arguments, forever (amen and amen), here is a short (senses 1 and 2) lexicographer’s guide to “real words.”

I think [insert reviled word here] isn’t a real word.

Let’s back up. Why do you think it’s not a real word? Because by a linguist’s definition, if it communicates meaning to an audience, then it’s “a real word.”

That’s ridiculously broad.

Oh gurl:

How do you communicate thoughts to an audience? You might communicate by uttering a string of phonetic sounds, making signs in a manual language, or writing a series of characters. Meaningful units of these sounds, signs, or written characters are often what we would consider to be words.

In short: if it’s part of a language system and communicates meaning, linguists consider it to be “a real word.”

But it’s illogical/ugly/stupid.

Just because you don’t like it doesn’t make it somehow “not real.” This is one of the more absurd notions that people have about language: that the mere dislike of a word invalidates its very existence. You’d never see that logic deployed effectively anywhere else in the real world. [Ed. note: The White House is not the real world.] I hate heat, for instance, and think temperatures above a very dry 80F can just nope right on out of here–but summer arrives every year, like clockwork, just to piss me off. Should my personal feelings about the power of the sun ruin everyone else’s beach vacation?

Besides, “illogical” and “stupid” rely on your knowledge base, and lemme tell ya, that’s smaller than you think. You may think that “inflammable” to mean “flammable” is illogical, because “in-” means “not,” but you would be wrong. “Inflammable” comes from the Latin inflammare, which means “to inflame” or “to burst into flame.” The “not” “in-” has nothing to do with it. “Inflammable” meant “flammable” before “flammable” meant “flammable”!

And even if a word is illogical or stupid, so what? You know how many completely unremarkable words arose from a stupid misreading? You use “cherry” and “apron” just fine, even though “cherry” came about because some 14th-century doofus thought the Anglo-French “cherise” was plural (it wasn’t), and “apron” came about because court clerk read “a napron” as “an apron” and rendered it as such, and then future readers thought, “Oh, man, the clerk to Edward III says it’s ‘apron,’ I better get in line,” even though that same clerk used “napron” later in the Household Ordinances, and here we are.

Language is not math. Language is people, and people are a mess. Yes, you too.

But this word is jargon, and jargon is meaningless, so it’s not a real word. Use words that actually mean something!

Jargon is, properly, the technical language of a particular group or activity. It can also refer to obscure and often pretentious language marked by circumlocutions–a definition that is pretty damned jargony. But not all jargon (sense 1) is jargon (sense 2). Hell–not all jargon (sense 1) is even all that technical! If you like a sport, have a job, go to school, have a hobby, or watch TV, then you know and use jargon. You can stream the Royal Wedding online while cabling an Aran sweater, checking the box scores for last night’s game and helping your kid figure out their math homework using manipulatives when the commercial breaks are on. Your whole life is marked by jargon of one sort or another, so stop getting your knickers in a knot over it.

But this supposedly real word isn’t in your/a/any dictionary!

It’s a common misconception that dictionaries enter every word in a language. This is a misconception started by dictionary companies who were desperate to outdo one another in sales and so made some dubious claims about how their dictionaries were “the sum of all human knowledge” and how, in dropping some bucks on one, you could “hold the English language in your two hands.”

There are many, many, many more words that do not make it into dictionaries than do, and this is the nature of the dictionary. If English is a swift moving river, then a dictionary is a cup of water scooped from that river: static, small, hopefully a good representative sample of that river, but not the river.

There are lots of reasons why a word might not be entered into a dictionary. First, what do we consider discrete words? Is the noun “compact” a different word than the verb “compact”? Are the different meanings of the noun “compact” different words? What if the different “compacts” come from different etymological sources? Is every inflection of a word a different word than the root? What about compound words like “slingshot”? Is that a different word from “sling” and “shot”? What about potential compound words, or potential inflections that we might not have now but we could at some point in the future (“mouses”), or potential affixal uses (“unfriend”)? What about words that no longer exist? What about initialisms and abbreviations? Are these all discrete words?

Incidentally, this goat rodeo is also why people who tell you that English has however many hundred-thousands words in it are full of bullshit (which can be one word or two words, depending on how you reckon).

Every professionally edited dictionary has criteria for entry–generally speaking, widespread use in printed prose for a sustained period of time–and many words never meet that criteria. Even good words! “Prepone,” a brilliant verb which means “to reschedule to an earlier time than originally scheduled” and is based on “postpone,” doesn’t yet meet the criteria for entry at Merriam-Webster, and it’s not only a clever coinage, but so frickin’ handy! Does away with the dumb confusion caused by “move back” and “move up” (“We’re moving the 10am meeting back to noon.” “So you’re moving it up to noon?” “No, we’re moving it back to noon.” “Was it originally at noon?” and then everyone sounds like a pathetic mashup of The Confederacy of the Dunces and “Who’s On First”). Everyone should use “prepone” in print, but not enough people do, and so it languishes in the database, noticed but not defined.

And there’s another sticking point. For a word to get into a dictionary, it needs to be found and tracked by lexicographers–and, to be frank, lexicographers are experiencing job creep as the industry shrinks. Gone are the halcyon days when a lexicographer had an hour or two daily to read and look for new words: now we’re busy writing and copyediting articles for the website, answering correspondence, running social media feeds, moderating comments on those feeds, brainstorming new products, doing media, writing editorial reports, proofing sales reports, coding for the database, troubleshooting the outdated data in the database…oh, and defining. Your sparkling, wonderful coinage, which you use constantly on Twitter and have, as I told you to do, used in letters to the editor or in editorials your town paper has printed…sorry I missed it. I was busy justifying my corporate existence with a click-positive article on the phrase “three sheets to the wind” in conjunction with an ad campaign we’re running with Budweiser.

The whole dictionary racket ignores the flashpoint where language is actually made: speech (or signing). Words are rarely born in print, but that’s all the lexicographers track. That means that all those words you use only in family conversations, or new words that are coined for one in-person interaction and never used again–those very real words–are lost to us. Until we hack Alexa to record everything you say and send it to our offices, that is. (j/k, lol)

Steve Kleinedler puts it best: “the English language changes too quickly and is too vast to be completely catalogued.”

Okay, let’s try this: how do I know when a word isn’t real?

Not to get all ontological and shit, but if it is a signifier of meaning used in the course of communication between people, it’s real. Even if it’s unintelligible to you! I don’t speak Polish, but I’m not going to say that Polish words aren’t real just because I don’t understand them.

You’re making me sound like a massive prick.

What’s the point, really, of declaring that a word isn’t real? It’s ultimately a show of power or superiority over someone else, and so, in that sense, it is the marker of an absolute unit of shittiness. I’ve made my feelings about correcting people’s speech known before, and this is just another variant of it. It centers someone else’s language in your own experience, and it’s ridiculous to think that yours is the default experience for everyone. Language is bigger than just one person! That’s a feature, not a bug!

So what am I supposed to do when I see a word that I think isn’t a real word but which you, a so-called professional, tells me is?

Ask about it! And if you can’t ask the person who uses it, ask a linguist, because they love it when people ask questions about things that they can actually research, instead of dumb questions like, “Oh, you’re a linguist, how many languages do you speak?”

Why do people use “mines”? There is a dictionary that will explain why–and it will also tell you about “hern” and “theirn” while it’s at it. Has someone used a jargony word, like “logomark,” that you think is redundant? Do a quick search online for how a logomark differs from a logo, and consider that perhaps, though jargon, it is a word that serves a purpose that neither “logo” nor “trademark” completely serves. Did someone utter “irregardless” in your hearing? Buy fifteen copies of this book and read the fourth chapter repeatedly. Revel in a language that is always growing and lives well beyond your grasp!

And stop tagging lexicographers on Twitter. We’re really only there for the dog pictures, man.

(via A Lexicographer’s Guide to Real Words | harm·less drudg·ery)

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