This is Why English is Frustrating

Let's Face It. English Is a Stupid Language.

There is no egg in the eggplant,
No ham in the hamburger
And neither pine nor apple in the pineapple.
English muffins were not invented in England,
French fries were not invented in France.

We sometimes take English for granted, but if we examine its paradoxes we find that:
Quicksand takes you down slowly,
Boxing rings are square,
And a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.

If writers write, how come fingers don't fing?
If the plural of tooth is teeth,
Shouldn't the plural of phone booth be phone beeth?
If the teacher taught,
Why hasn't the preacher praught?

If a vegetarian eats vegetables,
What the heck does a humanitarian eat?
Why do people recite at a play,
Yet play at a recital?
Park on driveways and
Drive on parkways?
How can the weather be as hot as hell on one day
And as cold as hell on another?

You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language where a house can burn up as it burns down,
And in which you fill in a form
By filling it out
And a bell is only heard once it goes!

English was invented by people, not computers,
And it reflects the creativity of the human race
(Which of course isn't a race at all.)

That is why:
When the stars are out they are visible,
But when the lights are out they are invisible.
And why it is that when I wind up my watch
It starts,
But when I wind up this poem
It ends.

-- someone that isn't me (again)

Moar Grammar

My father and I were sitting peacefully at breakfast the other day when I got a text that simply read, "What's the difference between 'which' and 'that'?" Now, my dad doesn't like when his offspring text in front of him, so I usually try to include a disclaimer when I do it so he doesn't clear his throat and give me one of those looks. I started scribbling sentences onto a napkin.

"Someone wants to know the difference between 'which' and 'that,'" I clarified, alternately texting and jotting. "How do I explain that?"

Something you should understand about this particular parental unit of mine is that he's not exactly...a words person. He's not the first person you would go to if you wanted the definition of an antecedent, or even to figure out what the subject of a sentence is. So the fact that this conversation even started is pretty strange all by itself. My quick answer was this:

"Um...you use a comma before which?"

But the real answer is slightly more complex. Thus began an amusing back and forth between my dad and me on how to explain the difference between 'which' and 'that.'

"It's like...describing a coat," I said, writing two sentences on the napkin. "'I bought a coat that was red' and 'I bought a coat, which was red.' One is necessary; one isn't. You see, when you use an appositive..." I think I lost my dad at that point. So for his benefit and yours, here's a crash course on "which" vs. "that."

As it turns out, the appositive doesn't actually come into play. But we are dealing with what are called essential and nonessential clauses. They mean pretty much what they sound like. The nonessential clause is a further description of the subject of the sentence. These clauses are always set off by commas: "The artist, an Irish man with a beret, liked to paint cats." (You can't tell but those commas are italicized too.)

An Irish man with a beret describes "the artist," which is the subject of the sentence. The phrase an Irish man with a beret is the nonessential clause in this situation.

There are also essential clauses. These are similar to nonessential but they differ in that they are actually needed to make the sentence clear. For example, "The lady dancing naked in the street is my old babysitter."

The difference between the two examples is this: There could be many ladies around in the second example, but the speaker is interested only in the one dancing naked in the street. If the speaker said only that "the lady is my old babysitter," the listener could be confused as to which lady was being referred to. In the first example there's really no question about the identity of the artist. The speaker is simply offering some additional detail about the man who likes to paint cats.

This idea of essential and nonessential information carries over when we use words like "which" and "that." These are what I call describing words, and you use them to add more information to your sentences. They're pretty simple to differentiate; use "that" with essential clauses, and "which" with nonessential clauses.

I like to ride yaks, which are big and hairy.

I like to ride yaks that are big and hairy.

You can see the difference. In the first example which are big and hairy is a nonessential clause. You don't need to know that yaks are big and hairy to figure out what the speaker is talking about; it's just a nice bit of information so you can better visualize the yak. In the second example that are big and hairy is essential to the sentences. The speaker is clarifying that he or she prefers to ride the big and hairy yaks instead of the ones that are small and hairless.

My father has his own method for remembering the different situations in which to use "which" and "that." He said to me, "So...if you have a catalogue, and you need to describe to your customers essential information like the color of the coat, you would use 'that.' Because your customers need to know what the products look like." I didn't really get where he was going with that, but if that helps you to remember it better, by all means use that example instead and ignore all above pictures and explanations.

However Much Fun You're Having Right Now, This Post Is Better

As you might have noticed several days ago, I promised a post about the correct (better more awesomer) way to use the word "however." It's a common misconception that it's a really good idea to use it in place of words like "but" ("Mice love peanut butter; however, they hate cheese," is pretty much the same as saying, "Mice love peanut butter, but they hate cheese.").

People think it makes them sound really smart and sophisticated to use "however" instead of "but" because it's a longer word and has more syllables. I'm guilty of this myself. A lot, actually; I mean, it's really simple and safe and sounds alright. However, you shouldn't really ever start sentences this way. (See what I did there?)

Unfortunately for fans of this use of the word "however" who are also readers of my humble blog, a professor I had several times throughout college and for whom I have a great respect is completely against the "however, they hate cheese" camp. Professor Eric Hayot of the Comparative Literature department of Penn State thinks (I assume) that this is usage is too common and ordinary and, ultimately, uninteresting (also, all the cool grammarians tell us that you shouldn't start sentences this way -- see above). He suggests a less regular but more interesting and fun usage: "However much I wanted to dance, my level of inebriation would not allow it."

An alternative example: "However I tried, I couldn't lift the elephant."

As you can see, this use of the word allows for greater mobility of language and sentences that are great fun.

If you MUST write a sentence in which you are offering contention of a previous point ("Lions are cool; however, aardvarks are cooler") try to use something a little more sophisticated, such as "nevertheless" or "even so."

And don't ever try to compare lions and aardvarks. Aardvarks will win every time.

The Egg

I didn't write this; I wish I had.

The Egg

By: Andy Weir

You were on your way home when you died.

It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.

And that’s when you met me.

“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”

“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.

“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”

“Yup,” I said.

“I… I died?”

“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.

You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”

“More or less,” I said.

“Are you god?” You asked.

“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”

“My kids… my wife,” you said.

“What about them?”

“Will they be all right?”

“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”

You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”

“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”

“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”

“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”

“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”

You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”

“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”

“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”

“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”

I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.

“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”

“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”

“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”

“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”

“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”

“Where you come from?” You said.

“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”

“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”

“So what’s the point of it all?”

“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”

“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.

I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”

“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”

“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”

“Just me? What about everyone else?”

“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”

You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”

“All you. Different incarnations of you.”

“Wait. I’m everyone!?”

“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.

“I’m every human being who ever lived?”

“Or who will ever live, yes.”

“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”

“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.

“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.

“And you’re the millions he killed.”

“I’m Jesus?”

“And you’re everyone who followed him.”

You fell silent.

“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”

You thought for a long time.

“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”

“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”

“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”

“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”

“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”

“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”

And I sent you on your way.

It (Sometimes) Gets Better

Not to be "ordinary"...but people need to know about this. Why? I have no idea. I think so that we can stop things like this from happening, but hate crimes can't be prevented solely through the knowledge of previously-committed hate crimes. So...spread awareness, folks, and help me think of a way to stop this shit:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/39438381/ns/us_news-crime_and_courts/

http://www.time.com/time/classroom/laramie/back_scarecrow.html

The Laramie incident happened over ten years ago, but it seems to have become relevant again as the suicide of Tyler Clementi becomes big news. These are just snippets I found; if you want to know more, just Google it.

A Letter

This is something I wrote on September 20, 2010, while sitting in class after reading the newspaper. Joe Dado was a student at Penn State who died last year on campus after a mostly alcohol-related incident. It was also mostly an accident. Mike Simpson was a resident in my building last year and a dear friend of mine who died this summer in a car crash. I don't think it was alcohol related, but it was definitely an accident. It was also not on campus. Hence the discrepancy in media attention the two events got from the campus newspaper (at least I've been telling myself that's the reason that one event made the front page everyday for almost two weeks and the other barely got one day). This is what I was thinking about that day.

Dear Mike,

Today is the one year anniversary of Joe Dado's death; he made the front page again. The entire front page. Plus a bit on the local page inside too. I couldn't help rolling my eyes. I'm not trying to minimize his death, I'm really not, but in the past year he's made the front page like 12 times! I guess I just don't think it's...fair?

It said in the paper that when Joe Dado died, Penn State lost someone extraordinary. But you know what? When you were in that car wreck, we all lost someone extraordinary too. And all you got was a little snippet on the side on the first day of Summer classes in June.

I'm not saying that you want all that attention. Hell, I'm not saying Dado wants all this attention either. So what's the difference? Is it because his death happened here, during the school year, and you were out of town over the summer? What about the kids that were with you? I dunno, Mike, I guess it just doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me.

Joe, maybe you're up there with Mike right now, the two of you standing side-by-side, looking down on us this day. Maybe not. I have to chuckle thinking about that. I wonder what that conversation would look like.

Joe, I wonder what you think about all this. Mike was a great person too. He was your age, had an accident as well. No alcohol involved either (was there?). Why do you get so much more attention?

No offense or anything.

I don't know what kind of point I'm trying to make here, if any. I'm not trying to insult anyone. But why do some bad things get so much more attention than others? This happens all over the country, every day. A comment on the media, I guess. Joe, you managed to change the way things are done around here in a big way. First year buildings are dry now because of you (another chuckle). Frats have to have lists, and bouncers! Well, bouncer...things. Grahamy's really cracking down. But more than that, you touched the lives of the people you knew with your humor and leadership. I know you did, because I read it on the front page of the paper almost every day for a couple weeks last year. But Mike, you touched so many people too. I know that you made my job fun -- and sometimes hard -- because of the person that you were. I know that you made people laugh and feel good and know that they had a great friend, because you were a great person.

So what am I getting at? I have no idea. I really don't. I was just thinking. Maybe you should have gotten more press time, Mike. Maybe Joe should have gotten less. Maybe it doesn't even matter. I just know that within the last year Penn State has lost two wonderful students; probably more than that. But we don't know; the Collegian hasn't said anything about them.

I hope you're keeping each other company up there.

Parents and Families

Hi, Mom and Dad. Did you know that I was thinking about you tonight? I've been thinking about you all day. This weekend is Parents and Families Weekend and well...you're my parents. I called home and talked for a little, but sometimes it's still kind of awkward to act like I actually care, seeing as I was such a horrible daughter for most of high school. And kind of before and after that too, actually. But anyway, I was thinking about you today, seeing everyone with their parents and brothers and sisters, walking around campus and taking tours of the library and the HUB and downtown and stuff. I figure it's kind of pointless for you to come to Parents and Families Weekend at this point since it's my last semester and all, and anything you want to know about Penn State you can just ask me. And you're down here a lot anyway since it's not far away and Marcy's family lives here and such.

Well anyway, I was thinking about you and I hope everything's going well at home and Victoria's ok and the dogs are doing well -- and Aiko too I guess. And I love you. And, um, I'll see you next week I guess.