On Grammar and Spelling Nazis

Anyone who has been on the internet for longer than a few seconds, has heard of the Grammar and Spelling Nazis.  I am one of them and, hypocritically, you wouldn't take my grammar back to meet your parents.  However there is, I feel, a line that needs to be drawn between "making an effort" and "evidently raised in Missouri".


To me, one of the funniest insults I have ever seen is the classic, "your retarded".  Using the wrong contraction when calling someone else retarded is viciously amusing to me.  "Your retarded".  Are you looking for my retarded?  He might be behind the couch.


The problem that we have, is the backlash we receive after we correct somebody.  Apparently it's not important to spell correctly or be coherent.  Evidently, as long as somebody understands what you mean, all that spelling and structure isn't needed.

Unfortunately, bad sentences are like concentration camps.  


I'm sorry, did that offend you?  Well it doesn't matter, the fact is, is that if we point out a sentence is an abomination of the English language, we are instantly compared to a bunch of genocidal warmongers.  If you're going to compare us to those Hitler-loving dickheads, I am going to compare your sentences to the devilry they committed on mankind.


So, once we've made our corrections, and we've been outed as a "fucking grammar Nazi", the obvious next step is to ask why we do it.  Why do we have to belittle the poster who can't be bothered to proof-read their single-line comment on why Sarah Palin is so awesome?  The answer is simple.  To save mankind.  Or "humankind", if you want to be an asshole.


Imagine, for a moment, that you are applying for a position at a company.  You type up your horrendous Resume. Microsoft Word warns you of the 58 spelling crimes you've committed. You dutifully fix them using the suggestions, oblivious to the fact that "I am a good thyme keeper" won't help your employment chances.  Unless of course the company in question is concerned with your ability to be attentive to spices.


Microsoft Word might also underline some sentences and suggest your grammar just mated with something unsavory.  Once again, you dutifully accept its suggestions. Unbeknown to you, Microsoft Word doesn't know what the fuck it's talking about, and wouldn't know grammar if it dropped its pants and said "Take me".


Happy that you've bested the other 58 mongoloid applicants, you send it out.  You don't get hired.  Wait, what was that?  You didn't get hired?  Why?  You didn't get hired because the person reading your resume had an aneurysm.  Now, you may be think that there is a difference between watching your English in a forum post, and giving a company your resume.  Here's a tip:  There isn't.

Every time you write, you are training your brain.  The more you write, the better you get at it.  So even just an innocuous forum post supporting the republicans, needs to be well thought-out.  Also, the effort that you put in to something is a direct reflection on other areas in your life.  When I read posts where the English language has been brutally abused, it tells me that the person behind that post is taking up too much of our precious oxygen.


So how are we saving mankind?  If we let our standards slip, some years from now we're going to be struggling to open milk cartons.  Science will have long ago died because nobody had the basic skills needed to read Chemistry 101, and formulate an opinion.


So join me.  There are grammatical errors all over this blog post.  Do me, and the rest of mankind, a favor and report them to me.

On Red and Green Men

In the United Kingdom and Australia, we have the concept of red/green man crossings.  The United States is more verbose and have settled with walk/don't walk, (though that may have fatal implications for 32 million Americans).  

During my time here in Sydney, I have noticed a worrying trend.  The Red man should not be disobeyed.  He is to be feared as a bogeyman, or the cold, dark and frozen soul of an in-law.

Time and time again, I have approached crossings with a Red Man showing, and people of both sexes on both sides; not crossing, even if it is perfectly safe to do so.  They eye each other as if to say "Go on, cross.  Then we can all look upon thee with distain".  See, I can understand that parents with children want to teach their offspring the safe way to cross without them being mangled within the axles of bus.  But when one sees adults linger when it is perfectly safe to go, one wonders if common-sense has lost a drinking-game to overt self-preservation.

This is the country where the inhabitants co-exist with some seriously fucked-up critters.  Surfers deal with sharks and jelly-fish and the landlubbers rub shoulders with spiders, snakes and crocodiles.  And yet, they fear crossing a road that is void of traffic, lest they incur the wrath of the Red Man and he comes for their first-borns during the night.

When I do not have my son with me, I make sure I cross the road when the Red Man is on duty and I feel that I can do so without being smeared over the windscreen of a Holden Commodore.  I feel the gaze on me from the Red Man worshippers, as if I had celebrated Hanukkah with a pork and bacon roll.  I relish this feeling, as I reach the other side.  The gazes now feel somewhat jealous in nature, as if to suggest "Damn, he didn't wipe".

There is hope, though.  On several of these occasions, a nervous member of the Red Man congregation has seen me go, and decided to make a break for it.  Just a few seconds after I have made my move, they follow.  I always wonder if they are feeling the same sense of elation that a former member of the Church of Scientology feels when they realize it's a crock of shit.

There is also cause for concern.  On two occasions I have seen a Sydneysider not cross when the kind and benevolent Green Man is on his watch.  I presume there is a special place in the after-life for these people.  I call this the "Zone reserved for unbelievable pussies".