Conversion, solidification, and externalization

A recent discussion on ADS-L combined three themes of enduring interest on this blog: conversion of N to V and vice versa; the alternation in spelling between separated, hyphenated, and solid spelling of compounds (see recent discussion by Mark Liberman on Language Log about the V + Prt compounds build out, build-out, and buildout); and the inclination to externalize inflection in compounds that have come to be viewed as unitary lexical items (see a collection of V/N = V + Prt examples here).

The ADS-L discussion was about mouse over / mouse-over / mouseover, which I’ll refer to as MO in what follows.

Punctuation marks

From Jonathan Lundell, a pointer to a posting on the Canadian Design Resource site yesterday:

According to The Week [of October 8th], in 1992 a patent was filed here in Canada for these two alt punctuation marks: the “Exclamation Comma” and “Question Comma”. Presumably, each mark would express enthusiasm or inquiry respectively at a time when the user was not yet prepared to end the sentence.

The comma-swatter

Today’s Rhymes With Orange:

Oh my. Arnold the fussy grammarian. (Arnold is an intrinsically funny name, it seems.)

But that should be garmmrian, not grammarian.

 

From South America

(About plants, with linguistic digressions.)

Two notable plants of the season in my neighborhood: the tree jacaranda and the perennial flower alstroemeria. Both gorgeous, and both originally from South America.

(A jacaranda tree in South Pasadena CA, and a florist’s assortment of alstroemerias in various colors.)

The perils of commas

From Michael Quinion’s World Wide Words #785, today:

Ted Brooks saw a New York Times report of 25 April about the parents of Madeleine McCann: “Since their daughter’s disappearance they have traveled to the Vatican for an audience with Pope Benedict XVI, who blessed a photograph of Madeleine, published a book and even appeared on The Oprah Winfrey Show.”

The unfortunate ambiguity here arises from the multiple functions of the comma — in this case, the function of setting off parentheticals and the function of separating the conjuncts in coordination.

Edward I as Oliver Cromwell

From Michael Quinion’s World Wide Words #778 of 3/17/12:

Miles Irving found this in an article on Dalhousie Castle in the Scotsman on 14 March: “The castle was visited by England’s King Edward I, also known as Longshanks, the Hammer of the Scots, and Oliver Cromwell.”

Three contributions to the problem: (a) the combination of a parenthetical or appositive construction with coordination, both of which use commas, but in two different ways; (b) the possible use of asyndetic coordination (lacking an explicit coordinator) in Longshanks, the Hammer of the Scots – it helps to know that these are two epithets for Edward I — though perhaps the writer’s intention was that the Hammer of the Scots is to be understood as in apposition to Longshanks, inside the parenthetical introduced by also known as (one parenthetical inside another is a potentially confusing configuration); and (c) the choice between using the serial, or Oxford, comma or avoiding it. The result is that even if you know that Oliver Cromwell is not an epithet of Edward I, but the name of an entirely different person, you are likely to get hung up on that absurd interpretation.

Some comments on this particular example, then an inventory of LLog and AZBlog postings on the Oxford / serial comma.

bedbug / bed bug

In the midst of the NYC Bedbug Panic of 2010 — see Tara Parker-Pope, “The Curious World of Bedbug Research” in the Health section of the NYT blog 8/30/10 and the full story, “They Crawl, They Bite, They Baffle Scientists”, by Donald G. McNeil Jr. in  Science Times — came two comments in the blog on spelling:

[comment #19] I understand that entymologists refer to them as bed bugs (2 words) not bedbugs, as the author of this article uses. Apparently if the animal is an actual bug, it should be 2 words. Dragonfly is an example of an insect that is not really a fly, so they merge it into one word.

FROM TPP — Yes we have heard about this from a few readers. The Webster’s New World College Dictionary, which is our definitive source when something’s not specifically addressed by the NYT stylebook, spells it as one word. So for now, it’s bedbugs in the New York Times. But I agree the argument for bedbugs as two words is compelling. [AMZ: there is no argument here, only assertion.]

(Larry Horn on ADS-L waggishly suggested that entymologists constituted an instance of folk entomology. Certainly, some confusion between entomology and etymology is common, common enough to merit an entry in Brians. The orthographic combo entymology is also reasonably common, as you can see from a Google search — apparently as an error for entomology.)

[comment #74] Bed bugs is TWO words – not one. The general rule for writing out common names of insects is as follows. If the insect name is a misnomer (e.g., the dragonfly is NOT a fly and neither is a damselfly), then the whole name is written as one word. If it is not a misnomer, then it is written as two words (e.g., house fly, which is a real fly). The bed bug is a “true” bug and therefore is two words.

The power of intonation

Yesterday’s Bizarro:

This is really about the power of intonation; punctuation comes into it only insofar as it can be recruited to convey the intonation of these two utterances. The first has the intonation of a declarative, the second the intonation of a type of interrogative (with a final rise) — in fact, a type of reclamatory question, used to seek a repetition of something you haven’t understood or an explanation of something you understood but can’t accept.

The exclamation point (!) is used to indicate emphasis (associated with greater intensity and/or higher pitch), the interrobang (?!) to indicate a combination of interrogativity (rising final) and emphasis.

Style sheet tyranny

Every so often I take a shot at the New York Times for adhering to some point of mechanical style, no matter what — for instance, its periodophilia in initialistic abbreviations (most recently, here), where it’s happy to disregard the ordinary practices of people and institutions who use the periodless versions of these abbreviations (even in public documents) in favor of its absurd instance on periods in things like the N.A.A.C.P., the A.F.L.-C.I.O., and L.G.B.T.

And then there’s the serial comma, where the paper is dead set against it (Omit Needless Punctuation; yes, I know, this runs counter to its periodophilia, but rules are rules), even where it might be useful.

So yesterday (July 29), we get, in the story “In Baring Facts of Train Crash, Blogs Erode China Censorship”, after a reference to the astounding number of messages on China’s microblogs about the tragedy:

The messages are a potent amalgam of contempt for railway authorities, suspicion of government explanations and shoe-leather journalism by citizens and professionals alike.

I was struggling with the startling idea that people were suspicious of government explanations and shoe-leather journalism, when the sentence came to an end and I realized that shoe-leather journalism … was intended to be a third conjunct, parallel to contempt for railway authorities and suspicion of government authorities. A comma, doctor, a comma!

I generally use the serial comma myself (and am sometimes accused of illiteracy for doing so — how silly is that?), but I’m not doctrinaire on the matter. Still, an editor yoked to a style sheet that abjures the serial comma might have the common sense to see that there are times when that final comma could be useful.

Our apostrophized holidays

Presidents, Mothers, Fathers. All arouse punctuational angst, and much variation. To take the next of these occasions to come upon us in the U.S.: is May 8, 2011, a day for mothers (Npl + N compound), a day that’s your mother’s (Nsgposs + N compound), or a day that’s our mothers’ (Nplposs + N compound)? This is a case where I tend to recommend jettisoning the apostrophe on the grounds of simplicity, since the meaning distinctions are so subtle, but I have to admit that my own usage varies.

Still, there are times when the placement of that apostrophe is significant, and William Haefeli has hit on one in the latest (May 2) issue of the New Yorker:

A while back, I assembled an inventory of postings on apostrophes on Language Log — the work of some hours, alas — but haven’t added things from this blog, or (omigod) annotated the inventory to make it really useful, so it’s not ready for unveiling to the world. But one thing I discovered in my searches through LLog was that the comments on all sorts of postings having to do with usage branched off into peeving, or even rage, about “apostrophe misuse” as an example of something the writer absolutely couldn’t abide. Apostrophes missing in various places where they are prescribed, apostrophes used in places where they are proscribed.

Now, it’s not hard to concoct examples where apostrophe misuse can lead to ambiguity, out of context, for an uncooperative reader, but in fact most of the examples people collect or construct are easily interpretable in context by a cooperative reader (one who’s willing to try to divine the writer’s intent); they violate the (sometimes complex and tricky) conventions of standard written English, but they don’t produce uninterpretable gibberish. Mis-steps, but small ones, and not something to get in a froth about.

Still, sometimes where you put that apostrophe makes a subtle but important distinction, as for Heather in Haefeli’s cartoon, with her two mommies.

[Notice that the teacher could still object that the name of the holiday (a proper noun) is Mother's Day and that the holiday isn't about Heather personally, so Heather has no right to adjust the form of the expression to suit her own condition -- an argument for WF (well-formedness according to some convention) over Faith (faithfulness, in this case fitting the expression to the context); on Faith vs. WF, see here. (Let me remind you that neither Faith nor WF is "right"; they are two equally valid, but often conflicting, general principles, in constant tension, resolved in different ways in different contexts, by different people.)

I'm with Heather in this case. But she might have a hard time working against a teacher committed to WF on holiday names, especially a teacher who finds the whole two-mommies business distasteful.]