The Lingering Death of the New York Times

There was a time, maybe, before blogs, even before the Internet, when the New York Times could be held up as a standard, if not the standard, for good grammar. After all, it was one of the most popular papers to write for, so good writers would contribute articles, and good editors would read those articles, so subscribers would have reading material that was not only accurate and true, but wouldn't have any comma splices or dangling participles.

I miss those days.

"Ottawa may have been unfairly branded as boring, but exploring Parliament Hill (Wellington Street; 613-239-5000; www.parl.gc.ca) is anything but." -- 36 Hours Ottawa, NYT, August 26, 2007 (Travel). (My italics.)

But what? Boring? Branded as boring? Unfairly branded as boring? Maybe it's branding all the other places in Ottawa as boring? Or doing so unfairly?

I hear that William Safire is semi-retired. Maybe he has time to scan the Travel articles before they find their way into print.

Definitely a short post.

I don't know why it bugs me so much, but why do so many people misspell "definitely"? (Or "definite", etc.?) Maybe it's because they mispronounce it, too, because they have lazy American speech patterns, like "nukular". Pronounce it "deaf in it lee".

At any rate, the word is definately not spelled "definately". It is definitely "definitely". This is one of those errors that, when you fix it, results in your readers' opinion of your IQ rise about 15 points.

Other than that, today's not been bad so far.

Update: Jamie Spencer, publisher of the fine Austin Criminal Defense Lawyer blog, has politely pointed out that one of my sentences above (now italicized) could be, um, improved. I would have been a lot less polite. I'm too proud to try scanning it and counting the errors; you may amuse yourself with that task if you like. Here's my stab at an edit, though.

This is an error that, when fixed, will result in your readers' estimates of your IQ rising about 15 points.

That's still awkward, but it keeps the meaning of the original sentence. Definately better.

Clarification about the meaning of snobbery

I guess I'm not really much of a snob when it comes to grammar. In my mind, a "snob" is a person with an unreasonable disdain for others who are unlike him in some sense. I don't think my disdain for people who don't know the difference between "it's" and "its" is unreasonable. Now, my disdain for NASCAR fans is, arguably, unreasonable. Well, no, not really. Bad example. How about people who don't like classical music? Maybe, except that I don't have any disdain for them, simply over that.

But it turns out I'm a snob about some things.

Here's what triggered this post. I'm at the office, and I make a phone call to some one in the course of business. The conversation goes something like this.

"Good afternoon, Akin Butz, may I help you?"

"Yes, I'd like to speak to Ima Shyster, please."

"May I ask who's calling?"

[After years of therapy, I've broken my old habit of simply replying "Yes", and instead telling the person who answered the phone my name.]

"Yes, this is Michael Simpson."

"I'm sorry, Mike, it looks like she has stepped out of the office. Would you like her voice mail?"

Last things first. I wouldn't like her voice mail, but I'll settle for it. I'll accept a less favorable alternative, if it's the only one I've got. (Now, see, all you real grammar snobs are rolling your eyes at my use of the word "alternative" instead of "alternate". Just kidding, guys.)

But there was a time, even in the South, when you wouldn't think of referring to a person you just met by his first name. And this clown didn't even do that; he took it upon himself to shorten my name to Mike. Would it kill you to call me Mr. Simpson? No, because the receptionists at the thick-carpet firms on Congress Avenue do it all the time.

But I've never really raised hell about it, until today. I know that if I did, people would think I was a snob. Which I am, in this case, because it is unreasonable, but only a little because I really don't care that much. So grant me this one vice.

I finally get connected to the voice mail, and it opens thusly.

"You've reached Ima Shyster."

No I haven't! I've reached your voicemail, dammit! AAAAAAUGHHH!