While I have, for now near-forgotten reasons, entitled this site something to do with grammar, I have refrained from worrying too much about the grammar (or spelling, or punctuation, or style) of anyone who comments here. I take no joy in telling people to use capital letters occasionally, or not to insert tildes between their sentences. Rather, I try improve my own writing and enjoy your (mostly lovely and hilarious) comments. And yet, a trend of asshattery seems to have begun. Certain of you seem to be scouring my posts for "errors" with the enthusiasm of a college sophomore who has just passed his first journalism class. With a B-. (Which is to say, both cocky and wrong: an unpleasant combination.)
Frankly, I don’t have a problem defending my diction and syntax when I think I’m right, which I usually do. Referring y’all to yet another word-usage note, however, bores me to tears. No one wants to read that. Faced with the possibility of having to issue a smackdown in the comments section, I find I would rather blind myself with a dull grapefruit spoon. So, with that in mind, before any pedestrian pantywaist out there decides to "correct" my writing again, please check first to make sure I have actually erred. Hint: not all long sentences are run-on sentences. And I like sentence fragments. A lot. Which is fine. And we have been beginning sentences with "and" and "but" since the tenth century, so, you know, good luck with that one.
Once you’ve given it some thought, checked dictionary.com, The O.E.D., The Elements of Style, or Garner’s Modern American Usage (hey, whatever’s your bag), and you still really think your particular brand of pedantry would be a valuable contribution, go for it. I’m sure I will be impressed by both your superior knowledge and your brazen nonchalance in face of the possibility that you might seem a tiresome dullard–let’s face it; no one cares about grammar. On the other hand, though, I ain’t wanna write bad.
Yee-es! All rulez are out o’ da winda now! Its almost like, ya know, math, or sumthin’ like dat. Or something. And that’s pretty cool…at least where I come from. Really. It is. Man.
Dunno. I think this Davidfosterwallacean sentence-fragment slash literal-transcription-of-really-fairly-annoying-
when-you-think-about-it-speech-habits thing, it’s a bit trendy. Is all. And in a few years we’ll all be, like, looking at stuff we like, wrote? And going, OH. MAH. GAH. Like when you find old pictures of yourself wearing clothing that you now know to be really uncool. And realizing that by the time that stuff looks cool again, you’ll be middle aged.
1. And but and so anyway, what I mean to say, is, that, not so much that you, Vague, are overdoing it, but that you[2] can. Overdo it. Is the thing.
2. “You” as in the first-person-plural sense, of “you”. “One”, so to speak.
Is all, really, I’m saying.
AB– Well, that wasn’t exactly what I meant, but, fine, I guess. Maybe.
NW– Although I do not admit to having worn uncool clothes at any time ever, I see your point. But are you withholding your name from me or the other (ten) readers? Because anyone counting DFW references or noticing syntax knows. I think.
Well obviously, you can’t say those things without a lot of comas. Commas. Commas. Okay, either.
Er. Wait, are you saying you actually know who I am (doesn’t it say where I’m from, with the IP address? I assumed it did), or are you guessing?
Syntax? No, I don’t have that.
Syntax fever–catch it!
(And I mean I know, but why the cloak of mystery?)
So I could use commas.
I didn’t mean it to be mysterious.
Can I still sass you? Maybe just via SMS?? I will block my number and use lots of commas, if that will help… Then you will have NO IDEA who I am. Really!!
NW–Got it (sometimes you have to tell me something twice, it seems)!
SC–You have a “get out of sass free card.” Those are hard to get.
Vague: Maybe??!!? What do you mean? Surely you know that, as a practitioner of the empirical arts, my sworn enemy is the proper execution of grammatikal rules!
I mean, if anyone hates grammar here it’s me. And I mean it. Yes. I do. Really.
Syntax Fever, Ted Nugent’s lesser known follow-up to “Cat Scratch Fever.”
I AM YOUR FAAAHTHER, LUKE.