Spelling will not be a political issue

I know you've probably seen this a billion times, but I couldn't resist:



Copyeditor General's ruling: I was hoping for bipartisan agreement on the use of dictionaries. Oh well.

The English will respect English

Point: Ken Smith, a lecturer in Criminology at Bucks New University in England (motto: We've Been a University Since 2007), wrote an op-ed piece for the August 7 Times Higher Education in which he argued that rather than repeatedly correcting students' spelling errors, teachers should accept them as variant spellings.

His reasoning? Most commonly misspelled words are of such ancient provenance that there's no reason for modern audiences to follow blind tradition:

We spell the word "February" the way we do only because it is taken from the Latin word februa, the Roman festival of purification. Similarly, the "correct" spelling of the word "Wednesday" comes from the Old English Wodnes daeg, or Woden's day. But why should we still pay homage today to a pagan god or a Roman festival of purification?

Counterpoint: The same magazine published responses to its annual call for egregious errors made in exams. As reported in The Guardian (oh, the irony!), British students wrote that "control of infectious diseases is very important in case an academic breaks out" and that "flirtation makes water safe to drink."

Copyeditor General's ruling: Sure, I can forgive the occasional typo; I can look the other way when I see uncommon words misspelled. Nobody's perfect, after all.

But when someone who is charged with teaching the next crop of professionals tries to argue that it's okay to half-ass the days of the week or the months of the year--because really, it's not as though you see them in writing very often, is it?--well, then we have a problem.

And if the exam examples are any indication, there's a lot of work to be done.

Newspapers won't confuse reggae singers with politicians' wives

Gotta love The Grauniad and their hey-it's-close-enough style of copyediting. From today's article about Barack Obama's family's appearance at the DNC:



Forgive my political ignorance, but did I miss something? I did a thorough search on the Googles, and this was the only Tippa I found.

Copyeditor General's ruling: Maybe that whole PMRC thing was a coverup for something more sinister ...

Update: Seems someone noticed the error; Tippa is out and Tipper is in. Phew!

T shirt companies will not worry me

After much consideration, I decided that the one thing missing from this blog was merchandise: some way for the Copyeditor General's legions of supporters to demonstrate their love of good grammar. So I started checking out online custom merchmongers to see what was available.

But I only got as far as Spreadshirt. And then I had to stop. Because I was reminded of what's really important.



Um, what? Eisenhower was many things, but fashion designer was not one of his best-known traits. And while there is at least one example of a kid-size campaign shirt, I highly doubt that Ike's win over Adlai Stevenson in 1952 (not '53, Spreadshirt fact-checkers!) came down to little Billy's decision to wear it to the fishin' hole.

Okay, slight distraction. Back to the merch search. What, exactly, is Spreadshirt? Let's check their "About Us" page:

"Spreadshirt makes it possible for private and commercial internet site operators to market their homepages quickly, simply, and independently. Internet site operators can create an online shop with individually created products and connect it with their homepage within minutes."

Internet site operators? When was this written, 1996? And why are we only marketing the homepage? What are all the other pages on my site, electronic chopped liver?

"To operate a Spreadshirt shop, you just need Internet access, your own designs or logo, and to market your shop online."

Don't you love how easy it all sounds? Yep, just log on and use your in-depth knowledge of online marketing! Weren't we all born with that?

Okay, pop quiz: when you think about successful internet businesses, what names come to mind? Google, eBay, DoubleClick? Nay, I say thee! Nay!

"Spreadshirt is one of the most successful internet companies of the past few years."

Two hundred and fifty employees, they have! Look out, Yahoo!

From their mission statement:

"We want to build the best possible online create-buy-experience for everyone from Homer Simpson to Salvador Dalí."

Well, good luck with that. I hate to break it to you, Spreadshirt, but one is a cartoon character and the other left us in 1989. Neither will be ordering from you in the foreseeable future.

"We want to be a fun and inspiring place to work, where integrity, delivery, and innovation reigns."

Which one? If they all reign, they need a plural verb, dears.

"There is no limit to what your imigination can do."

True: there is no limit to what we can imigine.

Copyeditor General's ruling: I have nothing against Germans. Seriously, I don't: I studied the language for five years. I love their Riesling, their Stollen and the fact that The Hoff has somewhere else to go.

But the same goes for them as for the Japanese, Peruvian-Canadians, Texans and Steven Seagal: when your website is the face of your business, you need to make sure your content is flawless. If you're wrong about easily verifiable facts, and you don't check spelling, how well will you do with my order?

Olympians will try to win. Period.

I can't watch the Olympics. I just can't. Sure, I love the running around and the jumping and the splashing. But whenever the announcers start to discuss the essential aim of the participants' actions, I have to turn away. Because eventually they'll use That Verb.

To medal.

I know, I know; it's largely accepted now. It has weasled its way into speech and hooked itself into that particularly creative and forgiving (read: lazy) area of communications we call sports journalism, and now we see it everywhere:

One could clearly make a case for the verb's legitimacy. There's even a linguistic term that describes this kind of thing: anthimeria, or the use of one type of word as if it were another (e.g. a noun used as a verb). Shakespeare and Milton did it all the time.

I should make clear that it's not the practice of word-use substitution that bugs me: it's purely, simply, exquisitely That Verb. It's unnecessary. It's vapid. Again, it's lazy.

And yes, it takes longer to say "he'd like to finish within the top three" or "she hopes to win either gold, silver or bronze" or "he expects to be one of the guys with the flowers and the crying and the national anthem and stuff."

I wonder, though, whether there's a more culturally telling reason for the use and acceptance of this particular word choice: it makes the goal of the action the verb. It turns the symbol of achievement into the entire experience; it makes the destination the journey. It's no longer about participation: it's about winning, period.

And don't even get me started on the use of "winningest."

Copyeditor General's ruling: If this is an acceptable way of referring to aspirations and aquisitions, why limit it to sport? Why not use it in other circumstances?

I haven't had lunch yet, but I expect to sandwich soon.

Our offer was accepted, so it looks like we'll house by the end of the month.

She went into premature labor and surprised everyone by babying this morning.

Both McCain and Obama are hoping to president in November.

Okay, your turn: hit me with your best/worst example of anthimeria!

Eels will not be party animals

Last week we went to the New England Aquarium, whose main attraction is the four-story tropical ocean tank, in which swim turtles, sharks, sting rays and all manner of brightly colored fish.

And also this:



Handsome fella, no? He's a moray, and there are two, or maybe three, in the tank. I'm not quite sure of the exact number because we never saw them together; they seemed to be solitary creatures.

Which is why I was surprised to find this:



and this:



and this:



and this:



All of which lead me to believe that the morays we saw were just spending a little alone time before getting together for a rousing game of bridge.

Copyeditor General's ruling: Another case of those darned confusing homophones, which we've covered here before. My instinct is to blame the blessing/curse of the Internets, where anyone can post anything without going through an editorial gatekeeper.

But not this time. All the above came from books. Actual, real, printed (and allegedly edited and proofread) books. You can see a few dozen more examples here. Shocking!

The word for the rules and social customs of a culture, while pronounced with two syllables, is spelled mores. But:

If you see a big eel
And its face makes you squeal
That's a moray.

(Sorry.)

No one will paint on the roof of my mouth

You may be familiar with my other blog, in which I write about food. I'm also learning, slowly but surely, how to take better photographs of the dishes I create/consume.

But as I recently discovered, it's not enough that I use two forms of creativity to capture my epicurean events. According to a wealth of evidence, I should be painting them as well.















Copyeditor General's ruling: Not only do I need to dig up my ancient paintbox and start blending pigments, I should also allow my color-mixing surface to be pushed, prodded, stretched and generally abused.

This is not a particularly palatable thought; in truth, it leaves rather a sour taste on my palate.

Yogurt will not be duplicitous

One lunchtime last week, my boss Caren came over to my desk, bearing a pot of Greek yogurt.

"I've got one for you!" she said, triumphantly. "Take a look at this."



Yep, looks like yogurt.

"Now read the description."



Copyeditor General's ruling: There's nothing wrong with being a math-averse copywriter; I count myself in that number. But when you're dealing with percentages, it's useful to understand what "0% non fat" means.

Of course, this could just be the world's most unhealthy yogurt.

And congrats to Caren, partly on her upcoming nuptials, but most importantly on being Copyeditor General's Deputy of the Week!

There will be educated people in Harvard Square

When you think Harvard Square, what images come to mind? Okay, probably one of the following:

• Hordes of tourists in matching crimson sweatshirts from the cart in the subway station;
• Suburban a-haaaal-turrrnative teens practicing skateboard moves (oops, sorry, they've moved on to parkour now) in the Pit;
• An inexplicable line of people waiting to get into the decidedly underwhelming Border Cafe;
• Rami Salami

Okay, yes, those are all true. However, the answer we're looking for: Disciplined intellectuals thriving in a world of high educational expectations, with examples of academic excellence and exactitude at every turn.

Right? Harvard, right? Three hundred and fifty years of graduating people like JFK, T.S. Eliot, Benazir Bhutto, Margaret Atwood, W.E.B Du Bois, Robert Benchley? Shouldn't that somehow rub off on the rest of the population?

Maybe the educational vibes just don't make it as far as the offices of harvardsquare.com.







Copyeditor General's ruling:I suppose I shouldn't have such high expectations. After all, some talented and inspiring people may have wandered Harvard Square as students, but so did Antonin Scalia, Alberto Gonzales, Aníbal Acevedo Vilá, Phyllis Schlafly, Bill O'Reilly, Ted Kaczynski ...

Fection will be controlled

Riding the Red Line yesterday, I spotted this ad:



And yes, I learned that it's easier to take photos when the train is not hurtling through a tunnel. Once we reached next station, I was able to get a clearer shot:



How should this have been handled? Take your pick:

• QC Pathfinder is the industry leader in infection control
• QC Pathfinder is the industry leader[comma] infection control
• QC Pathfinder is the industry-leading infection control

And I'm not completely convinced about the last one.

Copyeditor General's ruling: I hope their infection control solution is better than their copyediting. Otherwise it's Outbreak time.

Ingredients will be defined

Ooh, sometimes I feel like such a hypocrite. See, I just finished writing a review of Mochica, a lovely Peruvian restaurant in Montreal. The food is fabulous, the place is cool, the waitstaff are sweet and attentive.

But while I was checking their website, I found this:



and this:



Copyeditor General's ruling: I understand that English is probably a second language here. But this isn't a translation issue as much as a proofreading problem. And if I hadn't already been to Mochica, I'd be likely to take these typos as evidence that the restaurant was not paying attention to detail. And then I'd have missed out on a plate of lovely llama.

Ice cream sites will not give me the chills

Ice cream is one of those summer staples that signifies nostalgia and innocence. Even towns otherwise carpet-bombed into chain-store homogeneity often have a mom-and-pop ice cream stand that opens on Memorial Day and serves up dairy delights throughout the season.

These days, of course, nostalgia needs to be upgraded with a website.

Which just means more tasty treats in the error icebox.

Let's start slowly, to avoid brain-freeze, with a basic typo from Lickety's Ice Cream Truck:



And then we'll ease in with another example from the same site, this time from a page of resources for kids. Or possibly just one specific kid.



Because we know how much kids enjoy fan.

The origins of ice cream are much debated (check out the lovely documentary Gelato: An Endless Passion for an overview). But at least we have some idea of the sacrifices of later creative spirits:



How on earth did he keep his balance?

And the prize for tasty typos goes to the Dairy Kastle in Louisville, Kentucky, where the entrepreneurial spirit is alive and well:



Probably wise to move away from falvors anyway.

Best of all, though, is the same page's conclusion. Forget the stubbornly consistent refusal to accept the apostrophe. Ignore the fact that the second sentence is a fragment. Disregard the your/you're issue.

What, exactly, does the last sentence mean?



Copyeditor General's ruling: Is it wrong to critique the linguistic abilities of these small seasonal businesses? Should we overlook their typos on the grounds that they're not slick corporations with fancy-pants copyeditors and high-powered MarComm professionals?

Or does the fact that they're providing a service to children (who, frankly, need all the grammatical role models they can get) suggest they should be held to a higher standard?

Ah, it's too hot to think about this stuff.

Anyone fancy an ice cream?

Jack Keefe will be a pitcher, not a signwriter

Spotted in the barely functioning gym at the HoJos in Portland, Maine:



Copyeditor General's ruling: Pitcher Jack Keefe first came to prominence as the narrator of Ring Lardner's You Know Me Al. Today he maintains a beautiful baseball blog, written in his inimitable style.

But no matter what happens, he should not be allowed near signwriting equipment ever again.

Best Buy will not suck

There are plenty of examples of Best Buy's poor customer service record. I have nothing to add in that category. But I will take exception to their employment marketing.

Spotted in the window (which explains the dazzling reflection) of the Landmark Center store in Boston:



Copyeditor General's ruling: Let's just hope Best Buy doesn't include English lessons, grammar or proofreading in its list of learning opportunities.

Fro-yo will come in strange new flavors

And a certain corner café not far from Fenway Park will be the epicenter of tastebud-perturbing creativity. Among their current frozen yogurt offerings:



What would you like to try first? A tour of Reese's places? Perhaps a nice scoop of crackling?

Copyeditor General's ruling: Is the mongo fresh? Then I'll take a small mongo, please.

The keepers of words will know how to use them

I've already written about the shameless manner in which libraries promote themselves.

Blame, of course, lies not with librarians themselves, but with those responsible for creating their websites.

At least that's what I tell myself when I find things like this, from Simmons College's Beatley Library site:



Too small? Allow me to enhance (read the small print):





Copyeditor General's ruling: Having worked in a university library, I know the daily challenges librarians face: biblioclasm, psychotic co-workers, ghosts. So I'm not going to add to their misery by demanding they also take time to proof their websites. But in the interests of maintaining credibility, don't you think someone should?

Responses will be sought legitimately

Looky looky: another example of a misheard phrase, the perpetrators evidently never having seen the correct form in writing.

From the District of Columbia's Office of Planning:



From a workshop handout for "experienced educators":



From a junior high school newsletter (!):



From the bio of a college professor (!!):



From (oh, you'll love this) the site of a professional copywriter:



And finally, my favorite, if only because the woman looks as though she has an illicit response in mind:



Copyeditor General's ruling: Homophones can be tricky beasts, it's true. But at the same time, shouldn't context be a clue? The above examples suggest not only that the writers aren't aware of the correct word but also that they don't understand the meaning of "illicit." Or perhaps they do know what it means, but somehow assume it takes on an entirely different meaning in this situation. Either way, they're wrong.

Wrong wrong wrong.

Could I possibly be more explicit?

Sentences will end

As previously noted, I have nothing against The Guardian, even if I do seem to spend a lot of time pointing out their failings. And I don't go searching for errors; I don't have time to proof every word on their site (though I had assumed someone took responsibility for that task).

Which means either the typos only occur in the few stories I read, or they're everwhere and I'm not seeing all of them.

Today's example is a lovely story about the re-emergence of supper clubs, which ends abruptly in the middle of a quote:



Copyeditor General's ruling: If I'm seeing this at 9am, it means it's 2pm in the UK. Someone needs to lay off the liquid lunches, I think.

The basics will be covered

I've written before about discovering grammatical errors I didn't even know existed; it's a little like being an archaeologist, except it's less dusty and involves fewer bones. And while archaeologists look for fossils, I find living, breathing, evolving examples of incorrect language use.

Example: this week I received a work-related email newsletter that included the phrase "covered off on the basics." In context, in passing, it sounded reasonable, sort of. But it was also a new phrase to me. Why had I never encountered it before?

And so to Google, to see how many other sites featured the same phrase. None, it turned out, but a number used a similar one:









Copyeditor General's ruling: I suspect this oddity is the result of people mishearing a more common and correct idiom. Can you tell what it is?

Music moguls will control ingenues, not time

Dragon-boat goddess Ashley, who is seriously in the running to be my full-time deputy, alerted me to the fact that high-powered music industry executives are attempting to control time.

I'm not sure whether this is a scheme to increase the number of weeks a record stays in the Billboard Top 100 (does the Top 100 still exist? Do "records" still exist?) or whether they're trying to prevent the otherwise unstoppable, inexorable progress of mortality. Either way, it seems that, if you're rich and powerful enough, you can make one year last for five.

At least, that's what the BBC News website would lead us to believe, in a story about Mariah Carey's recent nuptials:



Copyeditor General's ruling: In fairness to Mr. Mottola, it's possible he doesn't actually control time; I'm sure one year being married to crazy Mariah Carey just feels five times as long.