Call me strong, don’t call me resilient. (Or do.)

Standing or caving?

‘Resilient’ is an important and strong and wonderful word, but I have to admit I’m weary of it. 

 

Widows and widowers, traumatized children, oppressed communities of color, survivors of cancer and war and natural catastrophe—and on and on and on—are all called resilient. When we say someone or a group or someones are resilient, are we saying anything more than that people keep putting one foot in front of the other and taking the next breath instead of lying down, giving up, and dying? Sometimes, in spite of my admiration for strength and perseverance, I want to say, Can’t we just realize that life is resilient and move on?

 

Really, though, my annoyance with that word is simply what I see as its overuse, and I’m being petty. It’s an important word and not at all offensive. It’s important to celebrate strength. Yeah. Forget I said anything. ‘Resilience’ is a good word. Let’s keep it going.

 

Ah, but what about ‘hack’ used as a noun? I am really sick of hearing any helpful tip or shortcut referred to as a hack, and overuse is not the only problem here. Let’s remember that hacking started out as a kind of virtual breaking and entering. Not a good thing. In fact, criminal. So when we offer an easy way to open a pomegranate and call it a hack, we’re erasing an important distinction. I have a similar gripe with anything beautiful being called ‘porn,’ as in bookshelf porn—God forbid! Whose bad idea was it to start calling helpful or beautiful ideas or things by ugly names, as if there’s no difference between good and bad?

 

Then there’s the business of referring to something bad or ugly with a neutral term or one that can even sound (if you don’t look too closely) positive? The worst such phrase in my book (I’ve written about this before) is ‘ethnic cleansing.’ Think about it. It’s good to be clean. Genocidal policies and practices, therefore, when called ethnic cleansing, are put forth as something good for a particular country, and it’s easy to see why a dictator or any other oppressive government would want to cloak its sins in clean-sounding language, but why do journalists around the world allow themselves to be led around by their noses, parroting this term in print, online, and on the airwaves? Trampling on human rights, deporting people because of their religion or ethnic background, putting their very lives at risk, sometimes taking their lives—there’s nothing clean about using euphemisms to refer to cruel and ugly actions and policies. 

 

Before I started writing this post, the words I first thought of were simply annoying. Words that elicited in me a peevish response. Modern locutions like ‘monetize,’ ‘privatize,’ incentivize,’ etc. Then came ‘hack,’ and I had a sudden insight as to why it strikes me as so offensive, and my post turned serious. I could never make a living as a nightclub comedian. Guess I’ll stick to bookselling. 

Random Thoughts: Buying or Judging?

Photo by Harris & Ewing, "between 1905 and 1935." http://hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/hec.16410

A thought that came to me recently concerns the phrase “marketplace of ideas," not only as it occurs in everyday speech but specifically as I read it in a positive and pithy little book by Dan Rather & Elliot Kirschner entitled What Unites Us: Reflections on Patriotism. 

In the chapter on dissent (which also, coincidentally, mentions Eugene V. Debs as “the famous socialist labor leader” who ran for the presidency from prison, where he was incarcerated on a federal charge of sedition), the authors cite the case of Abrams v. the United States (1919), in which two justices dissented from the majority on a question of free speech. The Court had twice previously been unanimous in supporting limits to free speech during World War I, but Justice Holmes was convinced by friends that the court had gone too far in suppressing speech, so in Abrams he dissented from the majority, Justice Brandeis concurring in the dissent. 

Holmes wrote in his dissent, “The best test of truth is the power of the thought to get itself accepted in the competition of the market….” Hmmm....

We are so accustomed to hearing and reading and using the phrase that I wonder how many of us ever think much about it. A marketplace, whether physical or virtual, is a scene for buying and selling, and while we commonly say “I don’t buy that” to indicate disagreement or at least lack of interest, do we want to think of our own dearly held beliefs and firmly held convictions as something to “sell” other people? Are ideas and beliefs and convictions and principles nothing more than virtual products to be advertised and promoted for--personal gain? to "win"?

But how else, you may ask, should we speak about ideas competing for our allegiance? I like “court of public opinion” a little better, because it implies judgment. While in a market I may make an impulse purchase and have little to regret (if the price is low enough), serving on a jury I would be asked to deliberate more carefully, weighing all the evidence presented and not voting solely on the basis of which attorney was the better salesperson.

What do you think of when you hear "marketplace of ideas"? 

Hearts Are Breaking All Around

Cloudy with slingshots

 I’m old enough to remember (though I was certainly not of voting age) the presidential race that pitted John Kennedy against Richard Nixon. Then as always, Americans on both sides of the political fence had strong feelings about their candidate and their candidate’s opponent. Remarks about opponents were not always generous or kind. There were some bad jokes and cartoons. But never in that time did I see signs in front yards that would, if featured in a movie today, have brought an “R” rating for language. 

 

Now, almost a year past the 2020 campaign, remaining signs and flags have become only more vile in their wording. What is it like, I ask myself, for young parents whose children have begun to read and ask the meaning of some of those loathsome words and proclamations?

 

Politics is never only politics, and the nastier it gets, the wider the ramifications. A neighbor and I can differ on fiscal policy or foreign policy or even what constitutes strong education, but when I drive past a house (none in my immediate neighborhood this nasty, thank heaven!) and meet with language that is like a middle finger raised in my face, my pleasure in beautiful natural surroundings is given a slap in the face.

 

Community. Neighborliness. Goodwill. Fair play. Graceful, gracious losing. How many of us have had our faith in those notions undermined in the past six years or more? What message are schoolchildren receiving when their parents protest against masks and at the same time scream that the answer to violence is more guns?

 

When death came to Thunder Rolling in the Mountains, or Chief Joseph, of the Nez Perce, in 1904, after the death of all his family and the loss of their homeland, the Colville Reservation physician reported that he had died of a broken heart. 

 

Philosopher Henri Bergson died on January 4, 1941, during the Nazi Occupation of much of France, including Paris, his health already poor, but you will never convince me that his death was due to anything other than a broken heart. 

 

These days Americans of all races and religions and political affiliations are going around with breaking hearts. Will there be an end to this in my lifetime?

Our Vocabulary Today

What else would you add to this list?

alone together 

asymptomatic 

at-risk populations 

case fatality rate

“Chinese” virus (Trump)

clinical trial

community spread

confirmed positive

contagion

coronavirus

COVID-19

Covidiot

crisis 

DYI antiseptic wipes

DYI masks

dying for the Dow

essential/nonessential businesses 

essential/nonessential travel
"face time"

“flatten the curve”

herd immunity

“hunker down”

immunity

lockdown

mask 

N95 masks

pandemic

PPE

press conference

quarantine 

reaching out

respirator
'rona

screening

self-isolation

self-quarantine

sheltering in place

social distancing 

“Stay home and save lives.”

stay-at-home order

symptomatic

vaccine

ventilator

vulnerable populations

virus

walking at a distance 

“We’re all in this together.”

working from home

Zoom

Nature Owes Us One

After the leaves have turned beautiful colors, and after the first hard frost, we are supposed to get a stretch of mild, shirtsleeve weather. We expect it as our due. But what to call that late grace period that didn’t come (yet?) this year? 

The term “Indian summer” gets mixed reviews these days. Not all Native Americans find it offensive, but since it falls into a general kettle of questionable phrases, what else might we substitute?

As decades go by in my life (with increasing speed), the meaning of “old woman’s summer” becomes clearer and clearer to me. Old people want to be warm! Not all old people want to be called old, though. Anyway, old woman's or old wives' summer is European terminology. In England and also in Europe the welcome warm spell following frost is sometimes called St. Martin’s or St. Luke’s summer, but we are not in England, and those names have no familiar connotations for us.

“Last chance summer” works for me. In wintry northern Michigan, it sounds a especially poignant tone. Though "halcyon days" is awfully nice, too.

Please, Mother Nature, please give us one last chance! Even if we have no intention of raking leaves until spring, it would be good to get that lawn furniture put away!

Go With the Flow! Or, Why So Stuffy, Old Lady?

Something I’ve noticed in American discourse in recent years, from statements by scientists to speeches by politicians and penetrating news media and commercial messages, is a decided shift away from formality, not only with reference to the citizens of the United States but also with reference to residents and citizens of countries world-wide. In statements by scientists (and reports of same to the public), “humans” or “human beings” have become “people.” A certain substance, for example, may be “toxic to both domestic pets and people.” Formerly, we would have been told the substance was “toxic to humans.” Does “people” sound more immediate, more personal?

At the same time, in other contexts, “people” have morphed into “folks.” We are still “the American people,” but when the national adjective is dropped, and especially when reference is made to groups of citizens, we become “folks.” A more casual, folksier term? Does “Folks are hurting” bring the pain into sharper focus than “People are hurting”?

What do you think? 

(The increasing informality in public utterances was preceded by a long trend toward familiarity in other situations. Bank tellers and receptionists in medical offices have been addressing customers and patients by first names, regardless of age, for quite a while now, although I’ve noticed that the more wealthy depositors sometimes escape familiarity. As for the disrespect some of us feel in our doctors’ offices (in general, doctors still expect to be called “Doctor”), that is often explained away by confidentiality requirements — supposedly, calling us by our first names protects our privacy in the waiting room better than if we were addressed more formally — but which came first, HIPAA or first-name-calling? And how would our privacy be threatened if we are called Mr. or Mrs. in the examining room? Waiters and waitresses don’t usually know the first names of diners, unless they are regulars, and in restaurants it is staff, not customers, who are reduced to their first names. “I’m Wendy, and I’ll be your server.” Are we still kings and queens, with personal servants, when we go out to eat? Is that how we’re supposed to feel?)

Does the general trend in public statements signal some underlying intent? If so, what could it be? 

Are we supposed to feel that science and government are not distant powers but groups of “people”/“folks" close to us, wanting to work with us? Is the newer language an attempt to bridge a gap in trust? 

Or, on a darker interpretation, are we being talked down to, made smaller, when we are called “folks”? Is an attempt being made to control us better?  

— Or is neither of these conclusions correct? Do both read too much into simple changes in language?

Whatever the original intent, if original intent there was (and how would we ever know?), I suspect the spread of the new usages is a simple matter of human beings/people/folks following trend leaders. We hear the new way of speaking over and over and gradually, without reflection, adopt it in our own speech. 

What do you think? Have you noticed the trend? Do you read anything at all into it? 

The Word 'Wash'

After two winters spent in the high desert, the word immediately conjures up for me not an image of wet laundry on a clothesline but a dusty, river-shaped opening through scratchy mesquite. The dry wash. Arroyo. “There were mule deer down in the wash this morning.” On some maps, washes (each, like a river, with its own name) are called ‘canyons,’ but that word to me still means something larger and much grander. 

I do hang my washed clothing and table linens and towels out on a line in the backyard, and sometimes I recall years when I only  dreamed of being at home to do such a thing, but I did not then imagine doing it before the sun came up, as I must often do these busy days. I did imagine chickens pecking around in the grass at my feet, and those chickens’ presence I still have to imagine.

‘Wash’ makes me think also of watercolor, an art medium I will never attempt, content (and sufficiently challenged) as I am with pen or pencil. I am happy, though, that others dare the mystery and chance effects of a watercolor wash.

“Wash that man right outta my….” How I loved singing and acting out that “South Pacific” musical number! 

Dishwasher. I have never had one. Instead, I am one. On good days, washing dishes is a meditative activity, something my hands do while my mind is free to roam. 

‘Washed-up’ is not a good way to be, but treasures may be washed up on shore by the waves.

The sun washes over a field of green wheat, waves of grain rippling dark and light in the spring breeze.

Laver. Se laver. Lavar. Lavarse. Je me lave les mains. And in Spanish? It does not come as quickly, and I wonder if it ever will.

Washed away, carried away, swept away — gone from here but gone altogether or simply deposited somewhere else? Edith Piaf with her new love, sweeping (rather than washing) away the old. In another French song, however, waves wash away footprints in the sand: La mer efface sur la sable….  

Washable. Temporary. Evanescent. Mysterious.

Let's Tell It Like It REALLY Is

This year’s Republican candidate for the office of President of the United States is admired by his supporters for “telling it like it is.” Yesterday on the radio I heard a young college woman say that “our country is in crisis and we can’t afford ‘political correctness.’”

I saw red. 

The term ‘political correctness’ gets my goat. People say ‘politically correct’ when they suspect some truth is being covered over, and they say ‘politically incorrect,’ with a smirk, when taking pride in being offensive. At the risk of offending, let me say that the phrase makes me want to puke, whoever uses it, in whatever context.

What was the American language like before this nasty little term came into common usage?

We spoke of civil discourse, and we tried to be civil in our speech. We attempted to remain polite when provoked, and when anger got the better of us, we were ashamed afterward. We expected more of ourselves and one another – at least when sober. Of course, we fell from grace now and then -- we are human -- but drunken ravings were not the standard for public speech.

Manners and decency were respected in national life, as in smaller groups and communities across the country. Abusive name-calling intended to humiliate or belittle occurred, but most of us recognized it for what it was, because we were taught, by parents and teachers, to avoid hurting other people’s feelings. In turn, we taught our children the same lessons.

This country has seen crisis before. The United States began with a Revolution, survived wars, and struggled through crushing economic hardship during the Great Depression. We have been divided as a nation more than once in our past. Political campaigns have at times been ugly, and political cartoons have stooped to cruel caricature. But when has a candidate for the highest office in the land made public statements insulting women, minorities, people with disabilities, and military veterans?

And what is there in such statements that does anything to resolve crisis?

Cruelly inflicting pain is not courage. Spewing abuse is not honesty. Thoughtlessness is not any kind of moral standard, and preying on fear and encouraging hatred is not “doing what needs to be done.” Neither is any of that some kind of trivial, just slightly naughty “political incorrectness.” Rude, boorish, cruel, hateful, hurtful, and inflammatory statements need to be called what they are.

Speech is behavior, and inflammatory speech does not heal a nation.

“We don’t have time for political correctness,” the young college girl said. We’re in crisis, she believes. Given the reality of crisis, I would ask the following questions:

·      Do we have time for name-calling and scapegoating?

·      Do we have time to escalate fear and deepen divisions in our country, driving people further apart?

·      Do we have time to alienate sincere lovers of America on either side of the aisle – or out in the vestibule?

·      And if national leaders don’t model for young Americans minimum standards of decency, will we have time to start over, or will it be too late?

Another Word For It

Said around the dinner table on Saturday by one of our guests (actually, my son): “I took debate in high school, and that is not debate.” So true, we all agreed. I’ve been saying the same thing for I don’t know how many election cycles, and it’s never been truer than this year, and whenever the subject cannot be avoided, I have resorted to “so-called ‘debate’” as my verbal reference. But the modification of the noun was still unsatisfying.

There must be something else we could call it, I kept thinking. But what?

Confrontation? Yelling match? Reality TV? All seemed at least partially appropriate but, again, unsatisfying, failing to get at the tragic heart of the disappointment. It is, after all, American democracy and perhaps the future of political freedom in the world that are at stake.

During the Monday morning early radio news, the word came to me: debacle. I said it aloud, trying it out.

“What? What are you referring to?”

“Instead of ‘debate,’ you know. What to call it. I’m going to call it ‘debacle.’”

The de- prefix makes the substitution particularly appropriate and calls up adjectives such as debased, degraded, and demeaned. Like debased and debate, it also contains the voiced bilabial plosive, with which a speaker can vent emotions such as disgust and disdain – Bah! -- while the hard C shading into a final L hints at spectacle, calling up sound and fury and barkers and circuses. And, of course the dictionary meaning....

When political satisfaction fails, there is some satisfaction to be found in the right word.

Late in the afternoon, glancing at Facebook, I saw that one of my friends had used the phrase “debacle of a debate.” Yes, Linda! You, too? But can we trim away the official designation we all agree does not pertain and be content with a single word to sum up what took place?

Debacle: “a stunning, ruinous collapse or failure, often ludicrously calamitous.” (New World Dictionary, 4^th meaning)

Calamity inviting laughter? Joking at the approach to the gallows? Debacle!

Again, Is This Just Me?

When you hear the phrase "to think outside the box," doesn't it sound to you as if the speaker is still inside the box? I mean, it's hardly an innovative phrase, is it?

Humans Lie; Hens Lay Eggs

The subject is not mendacity but “getting—or putting--horizontal.” The distinction is confusing in English, because the past tense of one verb is the present tense of the other. What a pickle!

“I think I’ll lie down for a while.” [Correct]

“Just lay the book over there on the table.” [Correct]

Two points need to be made about the simple sentences above. First, it isn’t a matter of humans versus the whole rest of the world (books and hens and such) but a matter of intransitive versus transitive verbs. (I heard those groans!) Unless there’s an object, you want the intransitive verb, in this case, to lie. That takes us to the second point, which is that dogs, when relaxing in front of the fire, are lying there, not laying, and the correct wording of the training command is “Lie down,” not “Lay down.” When, on the other hand, there’s an object following the verb, an egg or a book or whatever, you want the transitive verb, the one that can carry or transport its object.

It wouldn’t be so bad if that were the end of the story—but then along comes the pesky past tense.

“I lay down to rest and fell asleep for an hour.” [Correct}

“He laid the book carefully on the table, as if it were an egg.” [Correct: The addition of the egg was just to see if you were paying attention.]

Suddenly the spelling and sound of lay is correct for a human but only because it is the past tense of to lie, not to lay, the past tense of the latter being laid! We could take lie and lay into deeper waters, but why bother? Something tells me the distinction may vanish in my own lifetime.

Often, quite honestly, I almost wish I didn’t know the rules for using these verbs correctly, because the knowledge makes it so annoying to hear the incorrect usage. Embarrass my fellow human beings with public correction, I will not.

Okay, what about “Now I lay me down to sleep,” some of you are asking. Could it be that the confusion in English arises from this very source, the childhood prayer? It’s a tricky question, but note that ‘me’ in there. The speaker of this sentence takes himself or herself not only as subject (“I”) but also as object (“me”). Strictly speaking, it would be more proper to use a reflexive pronoun, i.e., “I lay myself down to sleep,” but of course the rhythm would then be entirely lost. Poetic license! Whether for rhythm or for rhyme, verse and song often depart from strict grammar, and there it’s just fine.

Homonym of the Day

Rain falls from the sky.

To rein in a horse--or, by extension, one's enthusiasm--means to hold it back. Giving "free rein," on the other hand, means letting it go.

Monarchs reign from thrones.

These words are homonyms. They sound the same but have very different meanings. Since horses are no longer part of everyday life for most English speakers, there is great confusion over rein and reign. Here's another case where Matthew's recommended study of Latin would help out a lot. Journalists, take note.

[This was originally and mistakenly posted on Books in Northport. I meant to post it here.]