Agreeance

Whaaaaaa? Someone just said he was in agreeance with me. Not a word! See? That entry clearly says BASTARDIZATION. As in if you use it, you're kind of a bastard.

Barking up the wrong flag pole

Nothing tickles me quite like a cliche blunder does. You'll often hear them from people who think they're pretty savvy. But these witty metaphormers typically lack critical thinking skills and assemble their utterances based only on the sounds of past cliches without regard to the meaning of the parts. And without the mental accuity required to understand the meaning behind oft-used metaphors, the result is strings of uncoordinated words, sloppily sutured together to produce mistakes that are as entertaining as they are indicative of the speaker's internal head-mess. Let's have a look at some particularly charming goofs:

Let's throw it against the wall and see what shakes out. In an interesting reversal, we don't give a crap about what sticks to the wall. We're want the solutions that fall off when we shake the wall. Fascinating.

He's not the sharpest bulb in the box. That's probably good, because sharp bulbs could be dangerous.

It's time to read between the writing on the wall. This one is actually pretty efficient. There's writing on the wall that should be obvious to us, and now we need to read between it to discern the less obvious meaning. Though I don't know how to read between writing...

We'll come out smelling like a rose by any other name. And that would be sweet, right? Can't we just smell like a normal rose that's called a rose? Like calling a spade a spade? Or calling it like we see it? You know, it takes a rose to know a rose.

She needs to air the skeletons in her closet. Yeah, because if skeletons don't get enough air, they may start acting up and urinating in inappropriate places.

The cat is out of the bag and coming home to roost. That's the good thing about cats . . . they always know their way home, even when they've been kept in a bag for extended periods.

There's a squwa brewing. Ewww.

It's hot enough to fry something. Hmmm . . . I can fry things anytime I want because I have a stove. Do they not have stoves where you come from?

Let's get this party rolling down the road. Oooh! RV party!

Those are the only ones I can remember for now. I'll keep collecting, though.

This year, I resolve:

To fix the most off-putting linguistic faux pas in my verbal communication. I am ashamed to admit, I use "alls". As in, "Alls you need to do is turn up the stove."

I know. Egregious.

I'm not sure if it is my Midwestern upbringing, shoddy public education, or simple laziness, but I need to fix it. It bothers me. It makes me feel inadequate, as though I'm missing several teeth and wearing a feed-corn hat (no offense intended, some of my dearest relatives wear feed-corn hats).

My current game plan is to stop my sentence whenever I catch myself committing the offense, and then restart the sentence focusing on the correction. Does anyone have any other recommendations or ideas on how to reign victorious over this annoying verbal tic?

A question that needs answered.

We VERBOSITEE folks are based in Nebraska. I am not a Nebraska native, but have noticed one interesting linguistic trend that I've never seen anywhere else. Here are some examples:

This lightbulb needs changed.

Your bedroom needs cleaned.

Can you edit this letter? I think it needs looked at.

I have a new project that needs worked on.

It just snowed, so the driveway needs scooped.*

So what gives? Normally, when using need+verb, one would use "to be" (needs to be cleaned) or an -ing verb (needs cleaning). This phenomenon is pervasive here and it kind of bothers me . . . mainly because I have no idea where it came from or why people do it. Anyone have any insight into this regional peculiarity?

*Notice the OTHER freaky Nebraska verbal quirk: scoop. We scoop the driveway when it snows, instead of clearing or shoveling it.

Happy New Year's . . . let's butcher some punctuation!

Now that the "Happy Holiday's" and "Seasons Greetings" have finally (and mercifully) passed us by, I thought I'd move on to some more punctuation blunders that remind us why the public education crisis is, in fact, a crisis. Indeed, the year's final holiday will bring us a classic screwup:

HAPPY NEW YEAR'S!

Why the apostrophe after "new year"? Why the "s"? They're really not necessary. The apostrophe s is appropriate when talking about "New Year's Eve" or "New Year's Day." Both of these days are proper nouns in which the eve or day respectively belongs to the new year, thereby warranting an apostrophe to indicate the possessive status. When you're just talking about the new year, just say "new year." Happy new year. Not a proper noun. Not possessive. Not needing an apostrophe. If you have any more questions about this, you should probably find a new blog to read. But if you're still confused, you're probably not much of a reader, huh?

A lament for Deadwood

I just (finally) finished watching season 3 of Deadwood. Now that it's over, I don't know where I'm going to get my genius dialogue fix. I'm still in awe that any TV show could capture my word-nerd fancy the way Deadwood dialogue did. Imaginative turns of phrase, near-Shakespearian construction, pitch-perfect delivery...it was rich enough to make me ignore vulgarity that I would normally consider off-putting.

So here are some of my favorite sound bites from Deadwood. Oh, how I will miss it!

"Without a day’s education, medical or otherwise, I vouchsafe this f$%&ing truth: Those as don’t eat without exception fail to survive." –Calamity Jane

"When I say “F$%&" yourself, Sheriff,” will you put that down to drunkenness or a high estimate of your athleticism?" -Hearst

"Ambition, and the blessed simplicities of action don't always quarter in comfort" -Jack Langrishe

"We come to know the truth of our actions only in the protractions of time." -A.W. Merrick

"Would you not have, too, your brother Charlie resurrected? Would you stipulate your envy of him being purged? Surely, you insist that Charlie retain certain defects -- his ineffable self-deceptions, for example, which were your joy in life to rebuke, and purpose, so far as you had one. I suppose you would see removed those qualities which caused you to love him, and the obliviousness to danger which allowed you to shed his blood." -Francis Wolcott

"The bald contempt of it. Why not come out five abreast, cavorting and taunting 'E.B. was left out. E.B. was left out.'" -E.B. Farnum

"Whatever lurks ahead, whatever grievous abominations and discord, you and me walk into it together, like always." -Al Swearingen

"Do you only feign simplicity while plotting ways to torment me?" -E.B. Farnum

"Being loyal, he can forego loyalty's display." -Al Swearingen

The nounjective

One verbal trend that I'm a huge fan of is the nounjective.* I just made that term up, but I think it describes this new usage pretty well. Basically, it's when a speaker or writer uses an adjective as a noun.

You're full of smart.

What I lack in brains I make up for in loud.

That idea has a lot of awesome.

So why do I like the nounjective so much? Truthfully, I don't know. It's a complete bastardization of form, so I should be shuddering everytime I hear it. But I can't help myself . . . it's like Britney's new song. I know I should hate it. I know there's nothing right or good about it. But I can't change the effing channel. I love the way it sounds.

And, God help me, I love the sound of a good nounjective. Just using one creates a whole new kind of emphasis on what the speaker/writer is describing. Right now, the nounjective tends to be more common in speaking than writing, but I forsee that changing over the next year or two.

*I'm seriously thinking about trademarking the term nounjective. It's mine, people. All mine.

Way of the Apple

We found these beauties at the same shopping center within about 100 feet of each other.

There was this apple, and it had a way. This store decided to commemorate the way of this apple on its door.

This time, a bunch of apples got together and invented a way of their own. The way belonged to all the apples. The developer of the shopping center decided to commemorate their way by putting it on this sign.

The city built a street and decided it was cool enough to be more than an ordinary street . . . it's a way. The way belongs to the city. And the city has strong feelings about apples in general, so it named the way after them. Apples are a tasty fruit, so they deserve to have a way named after them.

Your salad is smart and pretty.

Homophones are funny things. And those who don't get them are even funnier. Take "Complement" vs. "Compliment" . . . they sound the same, right? Well if you're reading this right now, it means you're literate. And as a literate being, you understand that these are two different words.

COMPLIMENT
n. an expression of esteem, respect, affection, or admiration; especially : an admiring remark.
v. to express such a remark.

COMPLEMENT
n. something that fills up, completes, or makes perfect.
v. to be complementary.

OK, Mr./Ms. Literate Human, it's pretty easy to see the difference, I think. But there are plenty of geniuses out there who don't even know that the "e" version exists. What makes it really funny is that if you're seeing the "i" version where the "e" version belongs, chances are you're looking at some snooty menu or spa brochure, where the author is trying to sound extra classy.

A savory parmesan crisp compliments your salad. Oh it does? Does it think my salad has a nice personality, or does it appreciate my salad's sense of style? Perhaps the parmesan crisp just respects my salad for its candor when confronting uncomfortable issues. Either way, my salad is very flattered.

Enjoy this deep cleansing facial, complimented by an alpha-hydroxy peel.
Peel: "Hey, facial."
Facial: "Oh, hi."
Peel: "I just wanted to say . . . um, I think you're really special."
Facial: "Wow, thanks."
Peel: "Yeah, I just think you're, like, wicked good at your job."
Facial: "Heh, heh. That's really nice, Peel."
Peel: "Um, sure. You're also smokin' hot."
Facial: "OK, I'm gonna go now."

All swanky restaurant owners and spendy spa proprietors please take note: The word you're looking for is "complement." Please start using it lest you look like an ass.

Word of the Year

So every year Merriam-Webster selects a word of the year to represent where we are as a society. This year, it's w00t (that's with zeros). While plenty of word purists out there are enraged over leetspeak's continued encroachment on the American lexicon, I'm all for it. Leetspeak in general represents an evolution that's been really fun to watch. I know the breakdown of form probably doesn't bode well for the future of writing, but I can't help but be entertained. And w00t is no n00b word . . . it's been around for a few years and has leaked out of its gaming niche and into the lives of the less obese and undatable.

So while I can tolerate this year's M-W induction, I cannot tolerate the fact that the NYT used "than" when they should have used "then" in the second-to-last paragraph when covering it (now fixed online, bless Mike Nizza's heart). It's too bad, really. It was nice to have such a clear illustration of the difference between an evolving language and a lazy copyeditor.

And now, a word from our authors.

Hoyden \ˈhoi-d^ən\ n. 1. A girl or woman of saucy, boisterous, or carefree behavior. 2. A tomboy.

I’ve been called unnaturally competitive and I’m pretty sure that a mordantly witty retort trumps a well-reasoned argument any day. A lover of innovative usage and made-up-on-the-spot words, I cannot abide business jargon, motivational clichés, or anyone who starts sentences with, “Well, I’ll tell you what.” Oh really? What will you tell me?

Fizgig \fĭz"gĭg\ n. Frivolous or coquettish girl.

Who am I? A 40-something female with a lifelong penchant for words. Contrary to what my name suggests, I can get quite serious at times, especially when it comes to ferreting out grammatical beauty and blunder.

Scaramouch \skar-ə-müsh\ n. A cowardly buffoon

Brash, foolhardy, and usually wrong, I tend to make up for inaccuracy with loud. There is nothing off-limits, nothing out-of-bounds, and nothing left unsaid. You either love me or hate me. Either way, I’m cool with it. And no, I will not do the fandango.

Oniomaniac \oh-nee-uh-mey-nee-ak\ n. Someone with an uncontrollable desire to buy things.

That definition pretty much says it all. The only thing I love more than a respectable Scrabble opponent is a killer shoe sale. Fabulous footwear aside, I’m a lean, mean, writing machine who loves to cut through the fluff and tell it like it is. I do have one question for the general masses, though—where have all the commas gone?

Scholiast \skō-′lē-ast′\ n. one who writes marginal notes and comments; esp., an ancient interpreter and annotator of the classics

I’m a language lifer, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. I find joy in the weaving of words, the structure of sentences, and the grace of grammar. I take pride in a keen eye for detail and wield my red pen like a saber. The rules are there for a reason, people. You must learn them before you can break them.

Verbositee is born.

Ad agencies are the breeding grounds for people who have a love of language, strong opinions, clever wits, big ideas, and, yes, somewhat enlarged egos. So, when the creative department at a mid-size agency in the Midwest sought to make a splash at the annual Christmas party, VERBOSITEE.com was born. The big idea was to print little-known words on T-shirts to confuse, astound, and elucidate our coworkers. If they inquired, they would be directed to this website to learn the definitions of the words, and a little something about their fellow employees.

And so begins our blog.