Don’t embarass yourself in writing!
MARTHA BROCKENBROUGH
46 WAYS TO EMBARRASS YOURSELF IN WRITING by Martha Brockenbrough
One of my favorite scenes in the movie “The Princess Bride” is set atop the Cliffs of Insanity. In this cinematic fairy tale — a romantic swashbuckling comedy directed by Rob Reiner — a trio of kidnappers has just hoisted the abducted Princess Buttercup to the top of the cliffs. The lead thug, Vizzini, thinks there’s no way that her rescuer will be able to follow them. “Inconceivable,” says Vizzini, who has thus far peppered the entire journey with this word. Another henchman replies, “You keep saying that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”
In honor of Vizzini, the Society for the Promotion of Good Grammar (SPOGG) has given his name to frequently misused words. These often sound alike — they’re, there and their, for example. But that’s not always the case. Take “incontinence” and “inconvenience,” or “moot” and “mute.” They don’t sound the same, and people still screw them up. I call these types of gaffes “Vizzinis.” Here’s an example I read online recently in a writers’ newsgroup. People were talking about typos, how bad they make you look, and whether you should offer up corrections when you see them. In the midst of this discussion, one of the members unintentionally contributed the following unfortunate lines (to keep things simple, I’ve edited out all the goofs but the Vizzinis): “If you happen to notice a coworker’s zipper is down … do you discretely let him know so he can save face? Or do you go for the juggler and tell everybody in the board room?”
The writer meant “discreetly” and “jugular,” not “discretely” and “juggler.” Discreet with the double e means tactful or subtle. When a t separates the e’s, discrete means completely separate. The poor juggler, though. What did he do wrong? Most likely, the writer meant to type “jugular,” which is a big vein in your neck that carries blood from your head to your heart. (Learn more about it here. And, for the record, if a coworker has left the barn door open, just instant-message him: XYZPDQ. This shorthand for “examine your zipper, pretty darn quick!” always worked in elementary school, and with IM, you won’t have to see each other blush.)
Even writers with copy editors sometimes stub their fingers on Vizzinis. The Associated Press carried a sad story about a boy killed in a hit-and-run accident; the reporter said the child was “slowly peddling” his bike. I’m pretty sure the child wasn’t selling it in slow motion. Rather, he was “pedaling.” Another reporter there recently wrote about Jerry Seinfeld’s “flare” for language. True, Seinfeld did light up the comedy scene in the 1990s, but the word here should have been “flair.” Meanwhile, the Marble Slab Creamery advertises that its customers can enjoy their ice cream with “freshly pealed banana.” Unless they’ve found some way to ring fruit, though, the sign should have said “freshly peeled.”
Even the vaunted New York Times contains goofs. An online item about an antibiotic-resistant staph (not staff) infection said “It often resembles a pimple, boil or spider bite, but it quickly worsens into an abscess or puss-filled blister or sore.” I’m not a doctor, nor do I play one on TV, but I hardly think the sores are filled with cats. Rather, the writer meant to type “pus.”
Later in the same story, the writer called staph a “hearty” infection. A thick stew is a “hearty” meal. I don’t think pus (or puss) qualifies. The writer should have typed “hardy,” which means robust. At least he didn’t screw up the spelling of staph with its soundalike. A staff infection would be every manager’s nightmare. My own personal nightmare, though, would be witnessing this scene I found on MSNBC: “It was the Princess and the Pee … when Paris Hilton stepped in a puddle of sewer water after exciting an exclusive nightclub.”
Just how did she “excite” the nightclub? I can only imagine. Most likely, though, the MSNBC editors meant to type “exiting,” which means departing. Another comedic error was spotted in an office building with broken water pipes. The building manager wrote, “We appreciate your understanding to this emergency and apologize for any incontinence this may cause.” Incontinence? Yeesh. Let’s hope he was apologizing for the “inconvenience.”
The funniest error of late, though, might be about Angelina Jolie’s nude scenes in “Beowulf.” She told a reporter they embarrassed her. They did something else for the reporter, apparently. He called the scenes, um, “stimulated.” I think he meant to say “simulated.” On his behalf, I blush. But I can assure you, however embarrassing this is — I’m still not going to go for the juggler.
Martha Brockenbrough is the author of “Things That Make Us [Sic],” a guide to funny bad grammar. She is also the founder of SPOGG, the Society for the Promotion of Good Grammar.
To see a video on improving writing skills, click the play arrow.
July 2nd, 2009 at 8:50 am
Martha you’re a smarty pants…don’t toss insults because we all can’t write like you. You’re a professional journalist so you have the necessary training to put the correct sentence structure together, in addition to proper spelling. Keep that in mind