Pull those Weeds!
/It’s spring. You’re probably one of those people who love to go out and prepare the soil, buy the plants for flower and vegetable gardens, and pull the weeds already rearing their heads. You love that stuff, right? Good for you; I don’t. I spend as little time tending to my yard and flower beds as is legally possible. That said, I’ve got some “weeds” I’d like to tend to this spring. Will you join me?
The “weeds” I have in mind that are invading my spring “garden” are, as you’ve probably already guessed, word weeds! Geez! What an overgrown mess of lousy word choice this spring! But I’m going to be strategic – I promise to direct my “poison” to just a few of the most egregious offenders, the ones that are growing and spreading and threatening to choke out our useful American English. I’ve got my trowel poised, and here’s what I’d like to dig out and squelch forever:
The tiniest, most relentless weed
The incorrect pronunciation of the smallest word in our language: “a.” It is always, in all circumstances, to be pronounced “uh.” There is no sentence or phrase in American English that ever, ever requires that word to be pronounced “ay,” yet you and I can name well-known TV reporters and commentators who just cannot (or willnot) pronounce the word as “uh.” I suspect they don’t know it’s a weed. They think it’s a big, beautiful flower, and they’ll sound so smart and “professional” if they strain to give that little word some undue attention.
It’s an article, folks – a word that never, ever stands on its own. Correctly pronounced “uh,” it’s a beautiful little gem that moves your sentence along. Incorrectly pronounced “ay,” it is, to my ears, a pretentious weed intended to make the speaker sound smart and important. It doesn’t work. Pull the weed! Read more at the most popular post ever offered in this Speakeasy, The Word is ‘Uh,’ not ‘Ay.’
Just use the trowel, for heaven’s sake!
Now, mister or madam gardener, please use your trowel to dig out this next weed. Or perhaps you will usesome type of weed killer. I don’t care what you use, as long as you don’t tell me what you plan to utilize! Here we go again with the pretentiousness, the ostentation, the supposition that one will sound smarter, more professional, more important if he or she is to “utilize” something instead of simply using it. Baloney! Or, rather, weed! Kudzu! Chickweed! Noxious!
In nearly every row of your garden, in nearly every sentence you say or write, all you need is the humble little word, “use.” Do you know what “utilize” actually means? It isn’t a fancy, more “correct” version of “use.” To utilize something means to use it for a purpose for which it was not intended or to use it for monetary gain. It’s seldom called for, yet it’s taking over your garden. Kill it – quick! Oh, I’ve prescribed poisons for this. Read about them in the Speakeasy: I Guess it’s Just USELESS! or Utilize This! Note that, by allowing “utilize” to take the place of “use,” we lose a functional word from our language (“use”), diminishing the nuance and clarity we seek in our communication.
Based on your word choice...
... I’d have to say you might not know a weed when you see one. But this critter is taking over our garden of intelligent speech, and it’s gotta go: “based off.” Can you not immediately see the absurdity here? Anything on a base is, well, on a base. When you place a birdbath in that garden, you set the bowl of water on its base. You never set it off its base. Anything resting on a base is – do I really have to say it? – on a base: based on. For example, the decision is based on the report, not based off the report. So, based on your word choice, I can determine whether you know a weed from a flower.
Same thing with this foolishness about an organization being based “out of my home town.” No, dear – that’s a rank, unruly weed, just like “based off.” Let’s separate the flowers from the weeds: The correct phrase is “based on” or “based in.” Yes, there are some lovely flowers you can plant using the concept “off,” and they’ll do your garden proud: spin off, take off... But never based off. It’s a crummy weed. The lovely flower is based on.
Stick to the basics: the roots
Thank heavens we don’t have any more elections coming up in Wisconsin this year; maybe this weed will die on its own. It sure did take up a lot of space in the past few years though: the mispronunciation of “electoral” as in “electoral college” or “electoral process.” Gardeners, it grows from it strong, honest root: elect. Do you have any problem pronouncing that word? Heck no. This is a plain, healthy plant that could grow to be a positive staple in your garden, if only you’d stick to the root: elect – accent on the second syllable.
Where did anyone get the crazy idea that, if you add a suffix like “-oral” the accent switches to the suffix? You’re making a weird, annoying hybrid out of a plain, humble little plant. It’s e-lec-tor-al, not e-lec-tor-al. Think about it: Isn’t it an e- lec- tion? It’s not an e-lec-tion. Are people elected by an e-lec-tor-ate? Heck no. It’s the e-lec-tor-ate that casts the votes. Keep the “elect” in these words; put the accent on the second syllable every time. Don’t let a good word morph into an annoying weed.
A weed that’s hard to recognize
The day we English teachers were told to stop teaching kids how to diagram sentences is the day our beautiful garden of English language started its gradual transformation to a bed of uncontrollable weeds. Why? It’s hard to teach any concept if you’re not allowed to draw a diagram for the learner. And so an irksome, idiotic weed reared its head in our American English, and it’s now thriving even in the most prestigious gardens: the misuse of the word “of” where it doesn’t belong. Here are some examples of this noxious weed:
It is just too big of a problem.
That is too complicated of a game.
His directive is too confusing of a plan.
No! You’ve got that nasty weed, “of,” sneaking into your bed of flowers. Let me explain:
What is it? It is a problem. It’s a big problem. How big? Doggone it – too big. As you lay out your garden and eliminate nasty weeds, let me draw you a diagram:
There’s no logical place for the word “of” in that sentence. Poison it and send it on its way.
If you need a few more tools in your gardening toolbox, you might want to check out my fairly recent post called Blah, Blah, Blah. It actually covers three of the above weeds! I’m sure you’ll encounter a lot more weeds as you grow your spring garden, but I promised to be strategic. So I’ve focused on five invasive weeds that are, as I see it, ruining the beautiful garden of our American English language. I urge you to be vigilant and cut these suckers out every chance you get.