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I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America. And to the republic of Richard Stands.
One nation, under god, with liver tea and justice for all.
So, who exactly is this Richard Stands dude and is he the sicko who invented liver tea?
Don’t you hate it when people mix words and bloodgeon the English languish like that?
When all is set and done, I have the upmost respect for grammar and find it expotentially annoying when the misuse of words reels its ugly head.
Welcome to the wacky world of acorns. That is, eggcorns. An eggcorn is “an idiosyncratic substitution of a word or phrase for a word or words that sound similar or identical in the speaker’s dialect.”
Whoa is me! That definition is diarrhetic to stay the least! It’s a far gone conclusion that one has to take these things with a grain assault.
OK, language is bad enough without having to listen to people use it. But eggcorns do not represent our inability to say what I’m trying to write, nor to write what I’m trying to say. In fact, eggcorns reflect how we think, and as such they sometimes reveal amazing creativity.
Does Holland day sauce wet your appetite? Do you curve your hunger with cold slaw? Are you a social leopard or a coal hearted typo?
After day tripping through a list of popular tree eggcorns, I realized that this is how it must sound to my math students when I ramble through a cacoughany of strange sounding words and intimidating Greek letters. After spending the last ten years of their lives learning that pi is 3.1415, I unveil the Unit Circle, full of radians and degrees, and announce that pi equals 180.
This is wreckless teaching with an alterior motive, a half-hazard way of making trigonometry look like a biproduct of math and floorless logic.
But eggcorns are not fullproof and you shouldn’t get your dandruff up over them. Even our country’s leaders have used them in the spurt of the moment.
For example, President Bush said, “We cannot let terrorists and rogue nations hold this nation hostile or hold our allies hostile.”
The statement upset the apple tart for many people.
Dan Quayle quipped, “Republicans understand the importance of bondage between a mother and child.”
Ah yes, Dan was truly a vast suppository of information.
And Gib Lewis, Texas Speaker of the House, added, “This is unparalyzed in the state’s history.”
He certainly had egg corn soup on his face for that one.
Those political mouthfuls of wisdom (more accurately teaspoonfuls) are what we call malapropisms. Much like circumventing the globe or awaiting with baited breath, a malapropism is the misuse of words with similar sounds, but different and unconnected meanings, creating confusion and amusement.
Man, I really do miss listening to President Bush. His wisdom put a whole new leash on life.
And with this being an Senatorial electrical year, it’s a far-gone conclusion that we’ll be treated to more foot in mouth disease over the coming months.
Take for example Paul Ryan (a leading contender for the 2016 Presidential race?) saying that “poverty is caused by generations of men with no values or culture for work.”
He quickly disavowed the comment, claiming it was taken out of context. What he meant to say was, “poverty is caused by generations of black men with no values or culture for work.”
You really can’t hold it against someone for messing up one word, can you?
All tolled, I’m looking forward to an entertaining summer of listening to youthamisms by Bachmann, riding on the back of a dinosaur as she debates evolution and works to strum up support against global warming by pointing out that rainy weather can be hard on the sciences.
Look, I have nothing against murdering the English language. But like math, one shouldn’t feel proud taking stupidity to the limit.
When Sarah Palin argued, “I just hope the lamestream media won’t twist my words by repeating them verbatim!” I suppose she expects us to chuck it up to not having brain engaged before putting mouth in gear.