How to Ruin My Day

I went to the bank today and the teller greeted me by asking "How are you?" Without thinking, I gave my standard reply: "Okay." That's when another teller asked, "Just okay?"

This isn't the first time I've had someone challenge my answer to that question and every time it pisses me off. First, there's an inherent condescension, implying that my first answer wasn't good enough. And second, it ignores the point of the question. "How are you?" and the like are salutations similar to "hello." Any reply I give that's even moderately positive is simply me acknowledging the greeting.

When I was challenged, I replied "It's better than being [expletive deleted]." The teller who had rejected my first response laughed, apparently not noticing the tone in my voice. I was annoyed, but I tried to ignore it and just take care of my business.

When I was finishing up, the teller who challenged me said that she hoped my day would get better. I had tried to ignore her, but she brought it up back up. I asked her why she challenged me and she seemed legitimately taken aback. "I just always say I'm doing wonderful," she said.

"Not everyone has to say that," I said, pointedly, "and that should be fine. You kind of ruined my day." Then I walked out, noting that she didn't even offer an apology.

I made it back to the office in a sour mood, but I welcomed the distraction. Then, about thirty minutes before closing, the branch manager called me, asking me how my earlier visit had been. I've never gotten a courtesy call before, so I'm guessing she heard about the exchange. I told her what happened, making sure to point out that the teller who actually helped me had been quite pleasant, and explain why I had been so offended. The manager promised that she would address the matter and thanked me for my candor.

I try to avoid conflict, but today it seemed unavoidable.

I Cost Too Much

The other day at work, I was talking to my manager, Magda, about how I was having trouble with the copyediting work I was doing.  In the instance in question, I was having to argue my case for the edits I made to two separate managers who are not native English-speakers.  This wasn't simply a matter of using a dashes instead of parentheses, but of using the wrong word.

The document I was proofing was explaining how some new packaging would secure the product better during transit and kept referring to the bottom layer as the "lower wedge."  I can see why that word was picked since wedges are sometimes used to secure things (like a door stop), but there were no triangular shapes to be found anywhere in any of the diagrams or photographs of the packaging.  I finally quoted a dictionary and highlighted why the word didn't fit.  Finally, the product manager saw the light and we compromised with "pack bottom."

When I related the story to Magda, she pulled up an email that she thought was similar.  In it, one of the people from product information (the group that I met with back in October) was dealing with a similar back-and-forth over several emails and finally got fed up.  "I cost too much to be spending so much time on this project," he wrote.  Magda made it clear that his choice of words was too strong, but she agreed with the sentiment.  My time is valuable and if people are arguing with me over something, I need to let them know that they're wasting the company's money, albeit gently.

I must say, I really enjoy having a boss who clearly has my back, almost as much as I do knowing that I'm a valuable commodity for my company.

Scrambled Eggs

Have you ever had the feeling like you're moving through pudding every time you take a step?  Like someone cracked your head open like an egg and scrambled your brains?  Like you're wearing a heavy pair of invisible oven mitts?  Like your vision is constantly clouded, like looking through a wall of steam?

Maybe my analogies are specific to me, but I know we've all been sick.  This one is just surprising because other than being sluggish and exhausted, I don't really have other symptoms.  Maybe I'm stressed or I over-exerted myself when I shoveled snow on Sunday and I just need to recuperate.  Maybe I caught a bug and I'll be puking my guts out and wishing I was dead in a few days.  For now, I'm experiencing life in a way that makes me think of kitchen-related similes.

Tuesdays with Media: OED's Word of the Year, 2015

A little over a year ago, I wrote about the odd choices the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) made with new the entries they were adding for the first time.  This time around, I'll simply be focusing on the word the OED declared as the word of the year for 2015.  The word is .  For my readers that don't know, that little picture is called an emoji, and it's mostly used in text messaging.  Even when it shows up in other places, it only appears in text-based communication since it can't be spoken.

This year's word choice (excuse me, "word choice") is stupid.  According to the OED, they chose it because it "best reflect the ethos, mood, and preoccupations of 2015," but it's still really dumb.  I accept that emoji are a part of life nowadays, but that doesn't make them words.  I think of words as a form of communication that is used verbally and can be represented on page or screen with text -- that is to say, words are verbal first and visual second.  According to the OED's definition, a word can be either spoken or written, so I suppose by their standard it fits, but it doesn't make it any less stupid.

And it's especially frustrating because one of the words that made it to the shortlist was "they" to refer to an individual of unspecified gender.  I've been arguing for years that this definition should be recognized because as a culture we've been using for as long as I can remember.  "They" is not only a real word, it's been in use for much longer -- emoji were first available English speakers (adopted from the Japanese) in 2000, but only really became popular in the last few years.

As with last year, this year's recognition feels like a bunch of lexicographers that are trying hard to be relevant in word that increasingly doesn't care about them ... and it's actually working.  I just wrote an entire blog post ranting about how stupid their decision was, but would I have done so if they had chosen "they" like I wanted?  Maybe, but I'm an English nerd.  I'm betting that this year's word got a lot of people talking, though I'd guess most of it was negative.  If the OED was going by the mantra "there's no such thing as bad publicity," then I guess they accomplished their goal.

But it's still stupid.

Nicer Than I Have to Be

Last week I went to my local pharmacy to pick up my anti-epilepsy medication refill (early this time!) when I was told by the cashier that there was no prescription with my name ready to be picked up.  I had spelled my name for her, as I do with everyone, to ensure that she was looking for my name, yet she said there nothing that matched.  I asked her politely to look up my prescription to see when it would be ready -- I figured that since I was physically there, I might as well find out when I should come back.  She must be new because she leaned over the to the back to talk to the assistant pharmacist to ask the question rather than use the computer.  The assistant pharmacist recognized me and assured the girl working the counter that it was ready because she (the assist. pharm.) had filled it herself.

During this whole exchange, I could see a bag sitting on one of the "filled" shelves with the letters LAR written across the front of it.  I even suggested that it could be mine (again, spelling out LAR for Larsen), but I was assured that it was not for me.  Finally, the assistant pharmacist walked around to the front counter and pulled out the bag I had ask about and told the cashier that it was for me.  The cashier's response was: "Larsen?  I thought you said Lawson."  She never apologized, she never admitted fault, she just rang me up.  When the transaction was done, I said some words I wasn't expecting:

"Thank you."

I realized as I was walking away that it wasn't that long ago that I would have chewed this girl out for refusing to listen to me -- because you can't simply mishear someone three separate times unless you're actively not listening.  And while she would have deserved it, I took the better path and just let it go.  I don't mean for this to come off as me patting myself on the back.  Rather, I want to illustrate that being nice to people, even those who don't deserve it, really is the better for everyone.  I didn't riled up unnecessarily and she was able to more quickly help the next customer in line.

I don't know why I've struggled with being nice to strangers, but I'm glad I'm seeing a positive difference.

Danglish

Since I work for a Danish company, a lot of the documents that I'm asked to edit are written in what the people in my office playfully refer to as "Danglish."  For the most part, Danglish is just poorly written English, though I have notice one characteristic: missing definite articles.

I found it strange that definite articles would be dropped, but indefinite articles would mostly appear in their proper places.  Curious, I looked up Danish grammar on Wikipedia.  Interestingly, indefinite articles are separate words from their nouns, but most definite articles are simply suffixes attached at the end of their noun.  With this in mind, it makes sense that native Danish-speakers would forget to add a definite article when one is warranted, because in Danish, most definite articles don't exist.

With what I learned by reading the crowd-sourced article, I'm actually toying with the idea of convincing my next manager to get Danfoss to pay for Danish lessons for me, so I can better anticipate the mistakes that will be made and, more importantly, be better able to describe to Danish speakers why my edits are necessary.  Plus, it'll make pronouncing tough Danish words easier, or at least less humorous.

Missing The

One fun thing about my job is that I get random proofreading assignments that were written by non-native English-speakers.  Yes, I am aware of how incredibly nerdy I am for describing "proofreading" as "fun."

I don't speak Danish, but I'm guessing that articles aren't used a lot, particularly definite articles.  If I'm proofing something written by a Dane (which is most of the time when it wasn't written by someone in my office), there are more dropped the's than ... I don't know where I was going with that comparison, but you get the idea -- the's get no love.

Also, Danish appears to have some syntax similarities to Spanish with overly complex (for English) sentences that have "of" in an awkward place.  Instead of saying "make sure the bolts are secure," they'll use something like "ensure the security of [the] bolts."  Not grammatically wrong, just awkward.

I don't get these sorts of assignments very often, but I enjoy the break from routine when they come.

The Great Word Judge

Despite the fact that I was hired to as an expert in the written word, I keep getting surprised when people at my company come to me for my expert opinion.  For example, I received an email last week from a high-level manager in Denmark asking if the company should use the word "part" or "component" when referring to the products we make.  Being me, I couldn't just give her a quick answer, so explained the advantages and disadvantages in either choice, though I agreed that one word should be picked as the standard.  All in all, I wrote over 500 words on the topic.

I never shared my opinion, though I preferred "parts" for several reasons, one of which was that it's a more common word.  Perhaps my opinion came through, because earlier this week, a company-wide email was sent out telling everyone to use the word "parts" from now on.  My name was never cited as a reason for the decision, but I don't need credit to feel a swelling of pride.

I'm not sure why it feels a little weird to be seen as an expert in my field (maybe because the people at my last couple of jobs didn't really respect me?), but it mostly feels great and I hope it keeps happening.

Social Outcasts: Defined

In yesterday's post I used three different terms: nerd, geek, and dork.  While it may have seemed that I used these words interchangeably, they each have distinct meanings, at least to me.

Nerd.  Someone who is interested in academic pursuits, has extensive knowledge in their field of study, and is motivated by the pure enjoyment of the subject.  For example, because I have an English degree and work as a technical writer, I qualify as an English expert, but because I like reading, writing, and having grammar-based discussions, I'm an English nerd.  (Original meaning: Nerd first appeared in the Dr. Seuss book If I Ran the Zoo as a fictional type of animal.)

Geek.  Someone who has strong interests in their hobbies, usually involving forms of entertainment, sometimes to an obsessive degree.  For example, because I have extensive knowledge about comic book characters, particularly Superman, I'm a comics geek -- or at least a recovering one.  (Original meaning: Geek was a slang term for "freak" or "fool" and at one point "geek shows" were attractions at carnivals wherein a person would eat the heads off of live chickens.)

Both of these terms involve the labeled person spending much of their time with their particular interests.  That often means that they don't develop their social skills to the same extent as their peers.  While they usually aren't socially savvy, nerds and geeks don't have to be social outcasts, unlike the next entry.

Dork.  Someone who is socially inept and easily embarrasses either themselves or their more socially adept friends.  For example, because I sometime times laugh extremely loudly at inappropriate times, I can be a bit of a dork.  (Original meaning:  Archaically, a dork referred to a whale's penis.)

As you can see, while these three words do have some overlap, they each have a specific meaning.  And the fact that I laid it all out so explicitly probably makes me a bit of a dweeb.

Played Like a Fiddle

Last week, Ian and I were making plans to meet up so that we could visit with our sisters, Margot and Paige (don't worry, I'll post about that later on).  As we were corresponding through email, I asked Ian if I should bring a lunch, or just eat ahead of time. This was his response:

just eat a head of time.

Seeing the typo, I shot back with this:

Time comes in clusters called "heads" and they're edible? Where does one procure a head of time and what is the proper manner in which to prepare it for consumption?

I made it clear that this was meant as harmless teasing and closed the email.  After we met up, he referenced my joke about time coming in "heads."  I told him that I meant no harm in it, just that I couldn't resist pointing out his typo.  This is when Ian revealed that it was an intentional typo that he included to entice me to correct it.  It was bait and I swallowed it.

Here I was thinking that I was playing a joke on my brother when in reality, he was playing a joke on me.  Well played, sir.  Well played.

Beautiful Words

Pardon me while I indulge myself on a favorite topic of mine.

I was thinking recently about how amazing it is that we have written language.  With written language, not only do we have a way to communicate with someone who isn't right in front of us, we also can lock words into place.  Our memories are unreliable and it is easy to, not only forget things, but to remember things that didn't happen.  For example, I remember seeing the traffic crosswalk sign show the symbol for "walk" when I was hit by the bus, but according to all other testimonies, that's incorrect.  When we write things down, we have a permanent record of what actually happened.  There have been multiple times when I've gone back through a journal or this blog and reread entries and been reminded of events that I had long since forgotten.

Not only does this mean that we can communicate to ourselves in the future, but we can relay information to people who haven't even been born yet.  In 1 Nephi, the Lord expresses the importance of the scriptures to Nephi, to the point of commanding him to slay Laban in order to obtain the Plates of Brass (though, yes, according to the law at the time, Nephi had every right to slay Laban for stealing his property).  The word of the Lord existed because His prophets had written down revelations they had received.  The scriptures could not exist today without written language.

Since we know that Adam and Eve had written language, that means that written language was created by God.  And with it, what an amazing tool we have!

I'm sure that it's not terribly surprising I would contemplate something we all take for granted (myself included) since I've dedicated my life to the written word, but it's still nice to take time and appreciate what a beautiful thing that we have with writing.

Roommates Say the Darnedest Things

I came in from a run yesterday and Samuel, attempting to be friendly, asked me a question:

"You go for walkies?"

Perhaps we need to have a talk about idioms.

Words to Retire

Are there any words or phrases that you hear or read and just wish they would go away?  Maybe they're overused, maybe they don't really work for you, or maybe you're just tired of them.  I have some that I'll share.  If there are some that you want to add, please, share them in the comments.

Awesome.  Wow is this word overused.  I'm fine that people get excited about stuff, but the frequency with which this word is used feels like hyperbole that got out of control.  Awesome can still be used, but lets pare it down a bit and mix in some "greats" and "cools."

Homophobic.  This is a stupid word.  I'm fine that gay people want a word to represent "negative attitudes and feelings toward homosexuality," like the word racist refers to people with similar attitudes and feelings towards people of another race, but "phobia" means "fear," not "hatred."  Why not "homosexist?"  That's much more clear in its meaning and it's just as easy to say since it has the same number of syllables.

It is what it is.  Why are you talking?  What have you conveyed?  No information, no emotion, nothing was expressed with this.  Kindly shut your noise hole.

Misuse of literally and ironic.  Most people misuse the former in a hyperbolic way, but I honestly don't know if schools are teaching people how to use ironic.  Rarely does a week go by that I don't hear someone say "ironic" when they really mean "appropriate," which makes my English degree feel itchy.

Binge-watch.  This refers to watching several episodes from a TV show in one sitting, maybe even going through an entire season in one go.  But we already have a much less offensive word for this: marathoning.  With whole seasons of TV shows released on DVD or online, networks having marathons of TV shows have gone the way of the Dodo, but I remember as a kid trying to stay up late to catch episodes of The Twilight Zone or The Rocky & Bullwinkle Show because when else would I be able to watch those shows for hours on end?  I appreciate that the new word has an air of self-loathing to it ("I know I shouldn't sit here for six hours watching Seinfeld, but I am already in my sweatpants"), but the word "binge" is too emotionally-charged for me.

Millennial.  I've already shared my thoughts on why I don't like this term, but I also don't think it applies to me.  I think I'm too old to be part of that crowd.  I'm in my thirties and most of the time "millennial" is applied to people in their early to mid-twenties.  Isaac is a millennial, but I'm a generation Y-er.

Those are some words and a phrase that I would happily see removed, repurposed, or at least have their usage reduced.  What words would you add?

How Others See You

This last weekend was Stake Conference.  The prevalent theme during the Saturday session was missionary work, both with sharing the gospel with non-members and with doing genealogy and temple work for the dead.  The meeting began with two youth speakers, one young man and one young woman, followed by two converts, one recent and one who's been a member for about twenty years.  All of them said a variation of the same thing: members of the Church are happy.

As this phrase came up time and time again, I started getting annoyed, maybe even a little angry.  I would not describe myself as "happy."  Content, perhaps, and even jovial at times, but I don't consider myself a happy person.  Yet here were four different individuals that keep using the same language.  Is it just a quirk of Maryland?  Maybe, but I think there is more at work here.

Part of my issue with "happy" is that I consider it to be descriptive of moments, not states of being.  For example, when I landed my new jobs, I was happy (though that's putting it mildly: I was ecstatic).  While I will remain appreciative and satisfied to be employed, I don't think "happy" will be appropriate anymore.

Another problem with "happy" is that, to put it bluntly, I have too broad a vocabulary for "happy" to be satisfying.  Just as an experienced painter will think of colors in more specific shades ("What a lovely azure flower"), I tend to think of descriptors that are specific and narrowly defined.  "Happy" is too broad.

Even with that in mind, I struggled with the idea that members of the Church are recognized by outsiders as being "happy" because I didn't think that that applied to me.  Then I thought about the past year and how much I've changed.  For example, I used to regularly scowl whenever I went grocery shopping - I'd worked enough retail jobs that I would automatically be in a bad mood by simply entering a retail establishment.  I would never be rude to anyone, but I would be as impolite as possible.  Now, however, I am very polite when interacting with other customers and the store's staff.  I even smile at people.

I think the problem I have with identifying myself as "happy" is that my current disposition is so new, that I haven't internalized it yet.  It's like when you lose or gain weight: you put on or lose pounds pretty slowly, but you don't notice it until one day your pants fit differently.  I've lost some emotional weight, but I've only just realized it.  Even so, I doubt I'll accept "happy" while there are so many other adjectives I can use.

Peace ... through Vegetarianism?

I recently wrote about a bumper stick that I've seen quite a bit.  Today, I want to write about a bumper sticker that I've only seen once. I wish I could remember the exact wording of the sticker, or at least find a copy of it online, but I only remember the gist of it.  It was something along the lines of "I'm doing my part for world peace by being a vegetarian."  When I read that, I laughed out loud.

I'm no stranger to people with left-wing agendas (or right-wing ones, for that matter) proudly stating their outrageous claims via bumper stickers, but this one was still pretty outlandish.  From my understanding, the owner of the vehicle was claiming that meat-eaters are more violent than vegetarians because violence to animals leads to violence to humans.  Just like people argue that violent music, violent movies, and violent video games lead to violent behavior, even though a connection between them has never been proven.  I am not advocating partaking in violent media, but one does not automatically lead to the other.

That's also forgetting that one of the most evil people in history, the one person that everyone can get behind as being a bad dude, was a confirmed vegetarian.  Yes, I'm talking about Adolf Hitler.  A man who committed countless atrocities against his fellow human beings stopped eating animals for the final years of his life.

My point to all of this is that extremism tends to lead to bizarre arguments.  If someone wants to be a vegetarian, fine, good for them, but don't claim that not eating a hamburger makes you superior to me.  I see animals as resources to be used wisely.  I usually only eat meat once a day and, when compared to the average American, I eat a high amount of whole grains and fresh produce.  I also believe that animals should be cared for in humane conditions and killed in a fast, painless way.  I choose to eat food that is good for me, not because it puts me on some moral high-ground.

ADDENDUM:
While preparing for this post, I looked online for the bumper sticker that I saw and, even though I couldn't find the one I was looking for, I found one that was also silly.  It compared eating livestock to eating pets. I think that's silly because I would totally eat cat meat if given the opportunity.  Why is it that eating a cow is okay, but eating a horse is not?  I've heard, as an argument against eating them, that pigs are about as smart as dogs, but why can't we eat dogs?  Squirrels and groundhogs can be pretty cute, but I've eaten them.  And deer are beautiful, majestic creatures that can be quite tasty.  This isn't a "Modest Proposal" type satire, I'm honestly curious.  Leave a comment with your thoughts.

Coexist

You've probably seen the above image before, usually as a bumper sticker on the back of a car.  Isn't it a nice message?  We can all live together in peace.

I hate it.

I want to be clear, I do not use the word hate lightly.  I may dislike a lot of things, but I hate very little.  I hate this image and the message associated with it.  The message isn't "We can move past our differences and live together," rather it's "If you think about it, we're really all the same" or at the very least "So many problems arise from different ideas; let's stop fighting over who has the best god."  Obviously, I feel strongly about my beliefs because I actually decided for myself what I believe rather than just going along with what other people were doing.  I earned my faith.

I mostly blame two things for the prominence this image has gotten: ignorance and social pressure.  Ignorance because people see that image and don't bother thinking about it past the most superficial message on the surface and social pressure because people see the bumper sticker and a) think it looks "neat" and b) don't want to look like a douchebag.  I emphasize "look" because who cares what kind of person you actually are, as long as look like a caring person?

This all seems like a new way of saying the message that was at the heart of John Lennon's "Imagine," only more succinct for our shorter attention spans.  As you might have guessed, "Imagine" is a song that I really despise.  It has a beautiful melody that's simple, yet haunting.  Again, if you only half-listen, it has nice message of "stop fighting."  But if you pay even the smallest amount of attention you'll hear that the true message is "we fight because of our differences, so if we got rid of the things that make us different, we won't fight anymore" (which is one of the main philosophies of the Amish).  That's rubbish.  We accept each others differences and choose to not fight.

In the end, it's probably best not to adopt world views based on bumper stickers or songs.

Generation Y

My generation has two labels that are often used interchangeably: Generation Y and the Millennial Generation.  For reasons I don't fully understand, I don't mind Generation Y and I despise the term Millennial.

The term Generation Y originated as the logical follow up to Generation X.  This makes sense to me.  Plus, I like the potential for "Generation Why?" as a play on words.  Millennial sounds much more like it was created as a marketing tool.  "Millennial" sounds "hip" and "cool" and kids will "dig" that "noise."  [Vomits.]  Sorry, that just doesn't open quote jive close quote with me.

Maybe part of the reason I don't like Millennial is because I'm at the beginning of my generation.  Depending on who you ask, Generation Y begins around 1982 (though possibly as early as 1979 or as late as 1983) and ends around 2000, though it's hard for me to think that a thirteen-year-old and I are in the same generation.  The term Generation Y appeared first, back in 1993, and I was exposed to it first.  The term Millennial appeared in, you guessed it, 2000.  I feel that the older term fits better, but it seems to have fallen out of favor.  Being an older member of Generation Y, I think I may be set in my ways.  Millennial sounds too new.  I'm in my thirties and I don't think too many new things apply to me.  Personally, I feel that the generation should be split and Generation Y covers the first half (including me) and the Millennial Generation covers the second half.

Either way, we're not the best group of people.  Based on my readings, Generation Y-ers or Millennials tend to be more narcissistic than previous generations.  We tend to be more tolerant and accepting of others.  We tend not to have strong philosophical views or to be very religious.  Entitlement is a major issue with my compatriots as is procrastination.  We tend to delay both getting married or starting careers when compared to past generations.  We also tend to put a very high value on entertainment.  Anxiety in some form is more prevalent than with previous generations.

Ultimately, I think I like Generation Y better because I adopted the term when I heard it and I feel that Millennial was thrust upon me.  And, as is common among my generation, I don't like being forced into anything.

Ms. Larsen

At work this week, I was contacted by another engineering firm through email, with the letter addressed to "Ms. Larsen."  This was not the first time that something like this has happened, but it was the most recent (I never corrected the writer of the email, by the way).  It made me think about my name and, unfortunately, even with the inclusion of my middle name, there's no clear indication of my gender.

This is not the fault of my parents.  Jordan is a traditionally masculine name.  In fact, it was around the early eighties when I was born that the trend of naming girls Jordan began.  During most of my childhood, I never met a female Jordan, though I did encounter a few male ones.  It wasn't until high school that I became aware that girls being named Jordan was even an option.  It seemed odd to me, like naming a girl Robert or Steven.  Since then, while I do encounter the occasional male Jordan (there was one that works at the restaurant I tried working at), if I meet a Jordan, it usually is a girl: while I was working at IHOP during college, I encountered at least a dozen female Jordans.  But, and this is important, they were all younger than me.

Girl names go through trends that boy names don't.  You always have at least one Michael in a classroom and usually a few Davids and Juans and Joshuas, but while I attended middle school with lots of Heathers and Megans and Ashleys [or is it Ashleies?], I'm betting that you'll find a lot more Mackenzies and Addisons and Madisons these days.  Anyway, girls' names change a lot, but that also means, for some reason, taking surnames and making given girl names.  Personally, I think this is remarkably idiotic.  "I have a cute baby girl.  I should name her Papadopoulos!"  I really don't get it.

Anyway, if the trend continues, and I have no reason to think that it shouldn't, by the time I'm an old man, I'll have a girl's name.  I can see it now: "Back in my day, Jordan was the manliest name around..."

Pilcrow

As a writer, I pay close attention to the formatting of a piece of writing.  Spacing, kerning, font choices, and more all jump out to me when I look at the page.  Engineers, however, don't pay the same attention that I do.  That's fine since if they did, I wouldn't have a job.  But, when I'm editing something (heck, even when I drafting a something for the first time), I like a little extra help.  For that, I turn to my friend the pilcrow or paragraph mark (¶).

Pilcrows are useful since I don't have to guess at how many times the author hit "Enter," I can see it.  What's frustrating is that apparently I am the only person in my entire office that uses them.  Every time I've asked for a hand with something I'm writing, I have to turn off the pilcrows (or at least, make them invisible) or my coworker will be confused about what's wrong with my screen.  I've just gotten in the habit of hitting Ctrl+* (the shortcut in MS Word) before calling anyone over to my computer.

If you're like, though, you may wonder why we use a stylized, backwards P to represent paragraphs.  It's not a stylized P, but rather a C.  Originally, when punctuation was first being experimented with in English, a lot of Latin was still in use.  The C was short for capitulum, Latin for "chapter."  (Incidentally, the word paragraph comes from the Greek word paragraphos, which means anything other than the main text.  Think marginal notes or asides to the audience.)  As time went on, vertical lines were added to the C and the void space of the C was filled in.  Eventually, the ¶ or pilcrow was born.  The name may be from the symbol looking like a "plucked crow" or a corrupted form of the French pelagraphe which means "paragraph."

Whatever you call it, I encourage you to make pilcrows your friend.  Think of it this way: even if you don't see them, you still use them.  Wouldn't you rather see what's already there anyway?

Possible 27th Letter

[What's this?  Two posts in one day?!  Make sure you scroll down and read both!]

Have you heard about the Aussie that wants to introduce a 27th letter to the English alphabet?  A restauranteur named Paul Mathis has come up with something that will save us all valuable time: Ћ.  That symbol represents the word "the" and will save everyone time because "the" is the most frequently used word in English.  It also won't be adopted.

You see, the problem is that it isn't a letter, it's a word.  Because English uses the Roman alphabet (with the addition of J and W), not everything fits perfectly, but the idea is that each letter represents a sound or phoneme that we produce when we speak.  For example, the word "arm" has three distinct sounds that are represented by the letters.  We fake it for some phonemes by combining letters (the "oo" in "foot" is one phoneme represented by two letters), but the basic idea is well established.  Ћ is a symbol for a word, not a symbol for a sound.

However, it's not the first time a symbol for a word has been seen as a letter.  That's right folks, I'm talking about the ampersand.  For many generations, school children would finish reciting their alphabet by adding "and, per se, and" to the end (& was originally called "per se, and;" ampersand is simply a corrupted form of the original name).  And while the ampersand is still used regularly today and is even standard on computer keyboards, it is no longer considered a letter, but rather a form of punctuation.  Now if Mister Mathis wants us to consider Ћ as a new punctuation mark, I'm certainly willing to consider it.  Having an abbreviated way to write "the" as an option could certainly be attractive, especially with social media sites that often limit the number of characters allowed in a post.

But at the end of the day, I just can't see the new symbol being adopted as a letter.  At least not in America.