I am unbelievably slammed. You'll hear from me again when I can come up for air. Hopefully this will be soon.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Monday, March 21, 2011
Taking Pride In My Whiteness
I bet that title caught your attention, didn't it? It's not what you think.
This weekend was spring-like and sunny, and we had some company come into town. So, as we often do when people visit, we spent time walking on the National Mall. It was just a few hours in the sun, but at the end of the day, looking at the mirror, I found a reddish Lt. staring back at me.
I've not always been so sensitive to the sun, but combine living in D.C. (not exactly a tropical paradise) with an intense day job in an office (long hours) with it being winter (short days) with us not having taken a vacation to somewhere warm and sunny since...yeah, and the result is a skin tone two shades south of corpse.
I used to hate and even ridicule those poor pale office drones I'd see around town, but a strange transformation has been occurring. I went to a conference downtown about a month ago and as I approached the hotel some extremely pale guy in a suit was walking in the opposite direction.
I started in my usual internal monologue, "Geez, check out that guy! He probably hasn't seen the sun since 1986! What a los..."
Dude needs to get out. (Dude also needs a shave and a haircut...and less lipstick)
Then I looked down at my hands and realized they were about the same shade. I reconsidered. That guy: I bet he works hard, works long, does important stuff, is dedicated to his job. Yeah. I bet he's a go-getter, a do-gooder, a serious workhorse powerhouse. Totes.
And I found myself wanting to raise a fist. "Hail, brother! We, of the poorly-lit offices where we toil 50+ hours a week. Our complexions are a badge of honor. I salute you!"
This weekend was spring-like and sunny, and we had some company come into town. So, as we often do when people visit, we spent time walking on the National Mall. It was just a few hours in the sun, but at the end of the day, looking at the mirror, I found a reddish Lt. staring back at me.
I've not always been so sensitive to the sun, but combine living in D.C. (not exactly a tropical paradise) with an intense day job in an office (long hours) with it being winter (short days) with us not having taken a vacation to somewhere warm and sunny since...yeah, and the result is a skin tone two shades south of corpse.
I used to hate and even ridicule those poor pale office drones I'd see around town, but a strange transformation has been occurring. I went to a conference downtown about a month ago and as I approached the hotel some extremely pale guy in a suit was walking in the opposite direction.
I started in my usual internal monologue, "Geez, check out that guy! He probably hasn't seen the sun since 1986! What a los..."
Dude needs to get out. (Dude also needs a shave and a haircut...and less lipstick)Then I looked down at my hands and realized they were about the same shade. I reconsidered. That guy: I bet he works hard, works long, does important stuff, is dedicated to his job. Yeah. I bet he's a go-getter, a do-gooder, a serious workhorse powerhouse. Totes.
And I found myself wanting to raise a fist. "Hail, brother! We, of the poorly-lit offices where we toil 50+ hours a week. Our complexions are a badge of honor. I salute you!"
Friday, March 18, 2011
Is Media Coverage A Reward?
My post on Monday showed data supporting the hypothesis that any media coverage is good coverage if you are a relative unknown and looking to make a name. I've been thinking about this a bit more, and once again Amy Chua comes to mind. I've given my own perspective on her book before, but the media storm around it is a great example of misleading (whether intentional or not) marketing and (mostly) negative attention doing wonders for a book's saleability.
Let's move beyond books to consider this in a wider context. I'm thinking specifically of the Facebook status meme going around comparing the ridiculous coverage of Charlie Sheen's meltdown (I have to admit I have not been following this and am not all that interested - I couldn't name a single movie or TV show with Sheen, though if you reminded me of some I might know them) to lack of coverage of some of the soldiers who recently lost their lives in Afghanistan. The tone was outrage that the media should focus on a celebrity's debauchery while ignoring the brave young men and women who are fighting and dying for us. It is a noble sentiment, and one I partially - but only partially - agree with.
This gets to the title of my post. Is attention from the media (and, by proxy, from society as a whole) a reward? And is the injustice here that people who don't "deserve" the attention (Sheen) are getting it (because it sells) while those who do (our soldiers) are not (because who wants to read about regular folks getting killed?).
In my considering this, btw, I'm leaving aside cases where the media hound the hell out of people, or their families, who are accused of wrong-doing, since there's attention people would certainly rather not have.
The degree to which I share the outrage is the degree to which the focus on Sheen (and Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, etc, ad nauseum) allows the public to stick their heads in the sand, ignore or remain ignorant of real problems, or allows the media to compress coverage of those other issues into so narrow a space/timeslot that they cannot possibly be seriously considered.
I used to subscribe to a magazine called World Press Review, which would compile stories from newspapers all over the world into a monthly digest, and the difference between what was being covered in the U.S. press versus most of the rest of the world was remarkable.
Of course there is a whole lot more than Charlie Sheen standing between the media and serious, sober examination of the issues. One can spend the whole day watching cable news discussions of politics and current events without seeing anything that doesn't make the coverage of celebrity gossip seem harmless (or at least intelligent) by comparison.
But beyond this basic function of bringing awareness to issues, I have to admit the argument loses me. Why should we know biographical details of the soldiers who die in Afghanistan (beyond what it takes to hammer home that this is a real war, with real Americans being killed)? More to the point, why do soldiers "deserve" stories about them when they're dead, but not while they're alive and serving? Are news stories a "reward" for sacrificing their lives? (If so, what a pathetic recompense.)
If you read periodicals like The New Republic, you'll find a lot of stories about political figures that also give you details of their pasts, their personalities, their hobbies and interests, even their families. I can guarantee you that those political figures treat the press with wariness. It's a mixed bag, capable of either good or harm, and must be steered toward the advantage of the figure in question. This is much more like Charlie Sheen than like a private who died thanks to a roadside bomb.
The answer to the question seems to be that media coverage can be a reward, but only for those who can use it to their advantage. For our troops, the media should have an obligation to keep the American public informed about the war (even if much of the public has no appetite for it), but to compare Sheen to our soldiers? It's just not fair to the soldiers, and sets up the false premise that media attention is always good, and a reward.
Let's move beyond books to consider this in a wider context. I'm thinking specifically of the Facebook status meme going around comparing the ridiculous coverage of Charlie Sheen's meltdown (I have to admit I have not been following this and am not all that interested - I couldn't name a single movie or TV show with Sheen, though if you reminded me of some I might know them) to lack of coverage of some of the soldiers who recently lost their lives in Afghanistan. The tone was outrage that the media should focus on a celebrity's debauchery while ignoring the brave young men and women who are fighting and dying for us. It is a noble sentiment, and one I partially - but only partially - agree with.
This gets to the title of my post. Is attention from the media (and, by proxy, from society as a whole) a reward? And is the injustice here that people who don't "deserve" the attention (Sheen) are getting it (because it sells) while those who do (our soldiers) are not (because who wants to read about regular folks getting killed?).
In my considering this, btw, I'm leaving aside cases where the media hound the hell out of people, or their families, who are accused of wrong-doing, since there's attention people would certainly rather not have.
The degree to which I share the outrage is the degree to which the focus on Sheen (and Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, etc, ad nauseum) allows the public to stick their heads in the sand, ignore or remain ignorant of real problems, or allows the media to compress coverage of those other issues into so narrow a space/timeslot that they cannot possibly be seriously considered.
I used to subscribe to a magazine called World Press Review, which would compile stories from newspapers all over the world into a monthly digest, and the difference between what was being covered in the U.S. press versus most of the rest of the world was remarkable.
Of course there is a whole lot more than Charlie Sheen standing between the media and serious, sober examination of the issues. One can spend the whole day watching cable news discussions of politics and current events without seeing anything that doesn't make the coverage of celebrity gossip seem harmless (or at least intelligent) by comparison.
But beyond this basic function of bringing awareness to issues, I have to admit the argument loses me. Why should we know biographical details of the soldiers who die in Afghanistan (beyond what it takes to hammer home that this is a real war, with real Americans being killed)? More to the point, why do soldiers "deserve" stories about them when they're dead, but not while they're alive and serving? Are news stories a "reward" for sacrificing their lives? (If so, what a pathetic recompense.)
If you read periodicals like The New Republic, you'll find a lot of stories about political figures that also give you details of their pasts, their personalities, their hobbies and interests, even their families. I can guarantee you that those political figures treat the press with wariness. It's a mixed bag, capable of either good or harm, and must be steered toward the advantage of the figure in question. This is much more like Charlie Sheen than like a private who died thanks to a roadside bomb.
The answer to the question seems to be that media coverage can be a reward, but only for those who can use it to their advantage. For our troops, the media should have an obligation to keep the American public informed about the war (even if much of the public has no appetite for it), but to compare Sheen to our soldiers? It's just not fair to the soldiers, and sets up the false premise that media attention is always good, and a reward.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
The Karma Of Lost And Found
I pride myself on being a modern, rational person. I'm not religious or spiritual (I don't look down on and actually envy a bit people who are, but I am not and it's just not something I can will myself to be) and definitely not superstitious. I don't throw salt over my shoulder, knock on wood, or freak out if a cat crosses my path or I walk under a ladder. I have few rituals in my life that explicitly deal with luck (though I have noted a tendency toward OCD on occasions, especially when I'm stressed, it's really not the same thing).
There is an older woman who lives down the block from us, and many mornings on my way to work I will see her walking to church. Sometimes she walks past me and says hello, but most of the time she will randomly veer off the sidewalk, walk around cars, and essentially pick a strange and circuitous route like a child might do. My wife and I sometimes joke that she is compelled to do these weird things to ward off the return of Cthulhu, but the truth is that she's probably just a little nutty, in addition to very superstitious.
Despite liking to think of myself as completely materialist and rational, I find that I possess a very strong internal sense of karma when it comes to finding and losing things.
It's not just a sense of trying to be an honest person, though there's an element of that as well. It really seems more about justice, about golden-ruleness, about wanting to do everything I can to increase the likelihood that if I lose something important - say, my SmartTrip card (I found one in my building last week, and if you're not familiar with D.C. you may not know that those things can have hundreds of dollars on them, plus be monthly rechargeable) or my glasses (my wife found a pair last week) or my driver's license (I've both lost mine and found others' on more than one occasion) - that people will take the same pains to get it back to me, or at least not steal it for themselves.
If I found $50,000 in cash in a paper bag, would I turn it in? I really don't know but I'd be strongly tempted to keep it, and if I did, karma would not be among my concerns. If I found a wad of bills totaling $1,000 on the street, I'd probably keep it and chalk it up to plain old (absolutely fucking awesome) luck. But if I found a wallet with some kind of ID that had $1,000 in it, I would absolutely return it - probably by trying to get in touch directly with the person who lost it - and I wouldn't be one of those people to first take the money out and then say I'd found it empty. Nor would I expect a reward.
What it really comes down to - for me, at least - is a social compact, but one that - I notice - has me as a big part of it. I don't actually believe that were I to keep the SmartTrip card, throw out the glasses, or even strip the money out of that wallet - that it would bring bad things on me or even increase the likelihood of my losing something in the future.
That would imply some supernatural external power directing things and keeping score. And yet I can't deny that "doing the right thing" in those instances makes me feel better, even if I never know whether the person who lost the card or the glasses comes to claim them. Intuitively, even if not rationally, I embrace the concept of karma.
There is an older woman who lives down the block from us, and many mornings on my way to work I will see her walking to church. Sometimes she walks past me and says hello, but most of the time she will randomly veer off the sidewalk, walk around cars, and essentially pick a strange and circuitous route like a child might do. My wife and I sometimes joke that she is compelled to do these weird things to ward off the return of Cthulhu, but the truth is that she's probably just a little nutty, in addition to very superstitious.
Despite liking to think of myself as completely materialist and rational, I find that I possess a very strong internal sense of karma when it comes to finding and losing things.
It's not just a sense of trying to be an honest person, though there's an element of that as well. It really seems more about justice, about golden-ruleness, about wanting to do everything I can to increase the likelihood that if I lose something important - say, my SmartTrip card (I found one in my building last week, and if you're not familiar with D.C. you may not know that those things can have hundreds of dollars on them, plus be monthly rechargeable) or my glasses (my wife found a pair last week) or my driver's license (I've both lost mine and found others' on more than one occasion) - that people will take the same pains to get it back to me, or at least not steal it for themselves.
If I found $50,000 in cash in a paper bag, would I turn it in? I really don't know but I'd be strongly tempted to keep it, and if I did, karma would not be among my concerns. If I found a wad of bills totaling $1,000 on the street, I'd probably keep it and chalk it up to plain old (absolutely fucking awesome) luck. But if I found a wallet with some kind of ID that had $1,000 in it, I would absolutely return it - probably by trying to get in touch directly with the person who lost it - and I wouldn't be one of those people to first take the money out and then say I'd found it empty. Nor would I expect a reward.
What it really comes down to - for me, at least - is a social compact, but one that - I notice - has me as a big part of it. I don't actually believe that were I to keep the SmartTrip card, throw out the glasses, or even strip the money out of that wallet - that it would bring bad things on me or even increase the likelihood of my losing something in the future.
That would imply some supernatural external power directing things and keeping score. And yet I can't deny that "doing the right thing" in those instances makes me feel better, even if I never know whether the person who lost the card or the glasses comes to claim them. Intuitively, even if not rationally, I embrace the concept of karma.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Bad Reviews And Book Sales
Most of you - like me - probably don't have to worry about this just yet, but have you ever wondered how good and bad reviews affect book sales? Certainly, recent flare-ups over issues like gender equity on the pages of the New York Times book section contain an implicit assumption that more attention to books by reviewers is a good thing, regardless of whether the reviews are good or bad.
(As a brief digression, it is not difficult to imagine that if complete gender parity, or at least proportionate representation, were achieved on the review pages, the next step would be to check how good vs. bad reviews varied by gender. I find one has to be very careful going down this path. There's a line to be walked between pointing out important discriminatory trends and simply harping on things that may be random, variable, or simply not significant - statistically or otherwise.)
I found a mention of this study, which looks at the effects of good and bad reviews in the New York Times on book sales. The authors did not look at gender, but perhaps unsurprisingly they found that the most important factor was not whether the review was good or bad, but instead how well-known the author was (using previous books published as a proxy).
If you're wondering, as I did, whether you can really attribute sales fluctuations to reviews, check out the study because they've got a good discussion of this issue and others involved in trying to be careful about understanding the relationship between reviews and sales.
The study authors found that positive reviews always increased sales, quite a bit (around 30% to 50%). But there was a distinction in negative reviews: these decreased the sales of well-known authors' books (by around 15%) but actually increased sales of lesser-known authors' books (by 45%)!
The take-home message for new writers: pull out all the stops to get your book reviewed by the New York Times. Even if they trash you, it gets your name out there and more people will buy your book! Much rather they trash you than ignore you. (At later stages of your writing career, it may be better to be ignored.)
(As a brief digression, it is not difficult to imagine that if complete gender parity, or at least proportionate representation, were achieved on the review pages, the next step would be to check how good vs. bad reviews varied by gender. I find one has to be very careful going down this path. There's a line to be walked between pointing out important discriminatory trends and simply harping on things that may be random, variable, or simply not significant - statistically or otherwise.)
I found a mention of this study, which looks at the effects of good and bad reviews in the New York Times on book sales. The authors did not look at gender, but perhaps unsurprisingly they found that the most important factor was not whether the review was good or bad, but instead how well-known the author was (using previous books published as a proxy).
If you're wondering, as I did, whether you can really attribute sales fluctuations to reviews, check out the study because they've got a good discussion of this issue and others involved in trying to be careful about understanding the relationship between reviews and sales.
The study authors found that positive reviews always increased sales, quite a bit (around 30% to 50%). But there was a distinction in negative reviews: these decreased the sales of well-known authors' books (by around 15%) but actually increased sales of lesser-known authors' books (by 45%)!
The take-home message for new writers: pull out all the stops to get your book reviewed by the New York Times. Even if they trash you, it gets your name out there and more people will buy your book! Much rather they trash you than ignore you. (At later stages of your writing career, it may be better to be ignored.)
Monday, March 7, 2011
How Can We Develop Good Characters If We Don't Understand Ourselves?
I'm traveling for work today and don't have much time to post, but I wanted to bring to your attention this incredible article I saw in Slate about brain injuries and behavior.
It makes for some disturbing reading, and by the end you'll see it raises questions about assumptions in the way we apply the law, as well as about more abstract philosophical topics (such as free will) that nonetheless can affect the way we see ourselves, others, and the world. We could talk about the many subjects it raises for days, from many different angles. But because it really gets to the core of what makes us who we are, I thought it also raised some interesting - if less societally pressing - questions about literature and characters.
What if you had a character like one of the injured people in the article? Someone whose behavior changed in undesirable ways as the result of a trauma? Someone for whom the changed behaviors were not a choice, not a failure of willpower, not even tied to emotional turmoil that others couldn't clearly see...but linked up with a physical injury to the brain?
How would you convey what was going on in that person's head? Do you think readers could develop sympathy for such characters even if they engaged in totally antisocial behaviors? If so, would the characters deserve it? (I have vague memories of reading about murderers in thrillers and horror stories who are being tormented by a brain tumor...but you're still not supposed to feel bad for them. And the mentally-ill serial killer is a cliche.)
We all know what works in creating good characters - not that it's easy to do (not at all) - but at least as readers we know it when we see it. But what if our impressions are based on flaws, founded on larger flaws in the way we see ourselves? Then would a true character perhaps be more fickle, more robotic, more the slave of physiological urges (and physical traumas) than a good character?
So much to say, so little time right now. I leave it to you. Of course it's easier simply to ignore all this. But play with it in your mind for a second, and let me know what you think.
It makes for some disturbing reading, and by the end you'll see it raises questions about assumptions in the way we apply the law, as well as about more abstract philosophical topics (such as free will) that nonetheless can affect the way we see ourselves, others, and the world. We could talk about the many subjects it raises for days, from many different angles. But because it really gets to the core of what makes us who we are, I thought it also raised some interesting - if less societally pressing - questions about literature and characters.
What if you had a character like one of the injured people in the article? Someone whose behavior changed in undesirable ways as the result of a trauma? Someone for whom the changed behaviors were not a choice, not a failure of willpower, not even tied to emotional turmoil that others couldn't clearly see...but linked up with a physical injury to the brain?
How would you convey what was going on in that person's head? Do you think readers could develop sympathy for such characters even if they engaged in totally antisocial behaviors? If so, would the characters deserve it? (I have vague memories of reading about murderers in thrillers and horror stories who are being tormented by a brain tumor...but you're still not supposed to feel bad for them. And the mentally-ill serial killer is a cliche.)
We all know what works in creating good characters - not that it's easy to do (not at all) - but at least as readers we know it when we see it. But what if our impressions are based on flaws, founded on larger flaws in the way we see ourselves? Then would a true character perhaps be more fickle, more robotic, more the slave of physiological urges (and physical traumas) than a good character?
So much to say, so little time right now. I leave it to you. Of course it's easier simply to ignore all this. But play with it in your mind for a second, and let me know what you think.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Gratuitious Alliteration Pisses Me Off
Let's wrap up "whine about words" week with why alliteration can be so wretched.
Oh, shit.
It's not literary alliteration that irks me so much as the way alliteration passes for cleverness in real life, even when it requires sacrificing an enormous amount of precision. Yes, I know, no one ever got hurt because of Taco Tuesday, and I like Happy Hour as much as the next guy (well, more), but much alliteration is simply egregious. (And I know the title of my last post was alliterative. But it was also precise, and "unmatched synonyms" or "improper synonyms" wouldn't have been any better.)
Have any of you ever been invited to a "chat and chew"? Beyond being two things that really shouldn't go together, and beyond my personal loathing for the word "chat," I can think of very little that sounds as unappetizing (it conjures an image of cows in a pasture for some reason)...except perhaps for a "brown bag," which I guess is supposed to conjure images of school lunches, but of course school lunches are not what pops into my mind when I'm hungry. If I ever swallow poison and need to promptly vomit it up, however, that'd be a fairly good thing to think about. (And while "potluck" is not alliterative, it's perhaps one of the only work/social get-together ideas worse than the "chat and chew" and the "brown bag," and I don't especially understand what the "luck" part is supposed to be, either.)
Some people seem to think that any seminar, lecture, or discussion held between the hours of 11 and 2 is automatically a "brown bag." I cannot think of the last time I saw a brown bag in a room where a "brown bag" was going on, even if the whole crowd brought their lunch. And I tend to not like to bring mine to things like that. My attitude is: listen, don't imply I should be bringing my lunch to shit, man. I'll eat when I want, and most likely alone in my office afterward at my own leisure, thank you very much.
Journalistic alliteration is genuinely clever perhaps 2% of the time, and the rest of the time it drives me crazy, both because it sacrifices precision and because it is intended to be so damn cutesy. (You notice serious stories are hardly ever treated to alliteration: ever hear anyone call September 11 "terrorist Tuesday," or refer to "hijackers' hijinks"?)
What irks me is when you know there are better words, but the journalist chose the one he or she did solely because of the first letter. So the pop star Rihanna is a "Bahamian beauty," Bernie Madoff is a "fraudulent financier," what's going on in Wisconsin is "Madison mayhem," our Hill correspondent brings you "Senate shenanigans" and "House happenings." (I won't even bother with traffic and weather.) Yes, I think it's safe to say that alliteration is often present when newspapers engage in "purple prose" and some of those words hardly ever get used unless paired in some kind of ridiculous alliteration. (I personally find it impossible to take the word "shenanigans" seriously, regardless of how it is used.)
Oh, fuck.
Even when not alliterative, this obligation to be cutesy can backfire, leading to nonsense. My favorite example that makes me want to throw things comes from the Express, the Monday through Friday D.C. newspaper whose prime purpose seems to be serving as floor covering on most Metro cars. Each day they feature the so-called "Blog Log" with short quotes from various blogs. But since "blog" is short for "weblog," "blog log" is on par with "ATM machine" in terms of needless redundancy.
There are lots of reasons I'm glad I never pursued journalism as a career, but this cutesy alliteration shit would make me hang my head and shrug in shame over such lousy language.
Crap.
Oh, shit.
It's not literary alliteration that irks me so much as the way alliteration passes for cleverness in real life, even when it requires sacrificing an enormous amount of precision. Yes, I know, no one ever got hurt because of Taco Tuesday, and I like Happy Hour as much as the next guy (well, more), but much alliteration is simply egregious. (And I know the title of my last post was alliterative. But it was also precise, and "unmatched synonyms" or "improper synonyms" wouldn't have been any better.)
Have any of you ever been invited to a "chat and chew"? Beyond being two things that really shouldn't go together, and beyond my personal loathing for the word "chat," I can think of very little that sounds as unappetizing (it conjures an image of cows in a pasture for some reason)...except perhaps for a "brown bag," which I guess is supposed to conjure images of school lunches, but of course school lunches are not what pops into my mind when I'm hungry. If I ever swallow poison and need to promptly vomit it up, however, that'd be a fairly good thing to think about. (And while "potluck" is not alliterative, it's perhaps one of the only work/social get-together ideas worse than the "chat and chew" and the "brown bag," and I don't especially understand what the "luck" part is supposed to be, either.)
Some people seem to think that any seminar, lecture, or discussion held between the hours of 11 and 2 is automatically a "brown bag." I cannot think of the last time I saw a brown bag in a room where a "brown bag" was going on, even if the whole crowd brought their lunch. And I tend to not like to bring mine to things like that. My attitude is: listen, don't imply I should be bringing my lunch to shit, man. I'll eat when I want, and most likely alone in my office afterward at my own leisure, thank you very much.
Journalistic alliteration is genuinely clever perhaps 2% of the time, and the rest of the time it drives me crazy, both because it sacrifices precision and because it is intended to be so damn cutesy. (You notice serious stories are hardly ever treated to alliteration: ever hear anyone call September 11 "terrorist Tuesday," or refer to "hijackers' hijinks"?)
What irks me is when you know there are better words, but the journalist chose the one he or she did solely because of the first letter. So the pop star Rihanna is a "Bahamian beauty," Bernie Madoff is a "fraudulent financier," what's going on in Wisconsin is "Madison mayhem," our Hill correspondent brings you "Senate shenanigans" and "House happenings." (I won't even bother with traffic and weather.) Yes, I think it's safe to say that alliteration is often present when newspapers engage in "purple prose" and some of those words hardly ever get used unless paired in some kind of ridiculous alliteration. (I personally find it impossible to take the word "shenanigans" seriously, regardless of how it is used.)
Oh, fuck.
Even when not alliterative, this obligation to be cutesy can backfire, leading to nonsense. My favorite example that makes me want to throw things comes from the Express, the Monday through Friday D.C. newspaper whose prime purpose seems to be serving as floor covering on most Metro cars. Each day they feature the so-called "Blog Log" with short quotes from various blogs. But since "blog" is short for "weblog," "blog log" is on par with "ATM machine" in terms of needless redundancy.
There are lots of reasons I'm glad I never pursued journalism as a career, but this cutesy alliteration shit would make me hang my head and shrug in shame over such lousy language.
Crap.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Sloppy Synonyms
Last time I questioned whether "scrumptious" and "delectable" were really synonyms. I think the jury is still out. Regardless, there are other examples of words that are used as synonyms when they most definitely are not. And the worst culprit with these, I have found, are journalists, though misuse is quite common.
Here's an example: is the nation currently facing a "fiscal" crisis or a "financial" crisis? Or both? They are not the same, but you'd never know it from reading the newspaper, where the words are used synonymously. (The way policymakers talk about it doesn't help.)
There are many money words that are frequently used as sloppy synonyms, and with no background in economics I've been guilty of this myself on occasion (though at least I try). For example, what's the difference between "equity" and "capital"? (Not so straightforward, it seems, though they are not the same.)
Here's another: "science" and "engineering." Not the same, news reporters of the world. Scientists are not engineers and engineers are not scientists. I won't even get into "accuracy" vs. "precision."
And also, if I'm a scientist and I go through peer-review to publish the results of my research, I have not published an "article" in a "magazine." I have published a "paper" in a "journal." The Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences is not a magazine like Vogue or Maxim. And there's a big difference between "A supposedly fun thing I'll never do again" or - God forbid - "Ten ways to drive your guy wild in bed" and "Metabolic cross-talk allows labeling of O-linked β-N-acetylglucosamine-modified proteins via the N-acetylgalactosamine salvage pathway."
But here are the two that I hate hate hate cannot abide!
1) Prison and jail. No, no, no, people are not sentenced to 30 years in jail. Nor, for that matter, three months in prison. If you know the difference between a misdemeanor and a felony (and no one uses those synonymously), then you know the difference between a prison and a jail.
2) Monkey and ape. This one drives me, pardon the phrase, apeshit. Humans are apes, as are chimpanzees, orangutans, gorillas, and gibbons. But apes are not monkeys and monkeys are not apes. Among a host of other differences, monkeys have tails.
Look, I don't walk around expecting people to know their prosimians (even though they are primates too), or to be able to elucidate the differences between perissodactyls and artiodactyls (or even sarcopterygians and actinopterygians), but considering how close to us on the evolutionary tree monkeys and other apes are, I think it is reasonable to feel the strong urge to go bananas (yes, that is deliberate) when people say that chimps are monkeys. You know a whale isn't a fish, you ought to know a baboon isn't an ape.
And when creationists say "I didn't descend from any monkey" I want to laugh and say "you are absolutely right!"
Then again, even a stopped clock is right twice a day.
Here's an example: is the nation currently facing a "fiscal" crisis or a "financial" crisis? Or both? They are not the same, but you'd never know it from reading the newspaper, where the words are used synonymously. (The way policymakers talk about it doesn't help.)
There are many money words that are frequently used as sloppy synonyms, and with no background in economics I've been guilty of this myself on occasion (though at least I try). For example, what's the difference between "equity" and "capital"? (Not so straightforward, it seems, though they are not the same.)
Here's another: "science" and "engineering." Not the same, news reporters of the world. Scientists are not engineers and engineers are not scientists. I won't even get into "accuracy" vs. "precision."
And also, if I'm a scientist and I go through peer-review to publish the results of my research, I have not published an "article" in a "magazine." I have published a "paper" in a "journal." The Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences is not a magazine like Vogue or Maxim. And there's a big difference between "A supposedly fun thing I'll never do again" or - God forbid - "Ten ways to drive your guy wild in bed" and "Metabolic cross-talk allows labeling of O-linked β-N-acetylglucosamine-modified proteins via the N-acetylgalactosamine salvage pathway."
But here are the two that I hate hate hate cannot abide!
1) Prison and jail. No, no, no, people are not sentenced to 30 years in jail. Nor, for that matter, three months in prison. If you know the difference between a misdemeanor and a felony (and no one uses those synonymously), then you know the difference between a prison and a jail.
2) Monkey and ape. This one drives me, pardon the phrase, apeshit. Humans are apes, as are chimpanzees, orangutans, gorillas, and gibbons. But apes are not monkeys and monkeys are not apes. Among a host of other differences, monkeys have tails.
Look, I don't walk around expecting people to know their prosimians (even though they are primates too), or to be able to elucidate the differences between perissodactyls and artiodactyls (or even sarcopterygians and actinopterygians), but considering how close to us on the evolutionary tree monkeys and other apes are, I think it is reasonable to feel the strong urge to go bananas (yes, that is deliberate) when people say that chimps are monkeys. You know a whale isn't a fish, you ought to know a baboon isn't an ape.
And when creationists say "I didn't descend from any monkey" I want to laugh and say "you are absolutely right!"
Then again, even a stopped clock is right twice a day.
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