Monday, 10 May 2010

Americanisms.

The ones that make no sense and which make me cringe whenever I read them.

Language is important. Thinking about language is even more important. If you use a word without knowing what it means, you have a high probability of being ousted for attempting to embellish the expanse of your vocabulary by the use of oddities of verbosity.

Text-speak, it has been claimed, uses an altogether different part of the brain from the one devoted to language and communication: it cuts out that part of our brain which is designed to think, carefully, about whether we are using words appropriately, aptly and correctly. Instead of thinking how to express an idea in 140 characters using full words and sentences, text-speak is a convenient circumnavigation past the necessity of considering and weighing up each word. The counter-argument is that considering and weighing each word could take longer than just writing in a sentence composed of half-words, and that text-speak is used for its expediency, which makes it appropriate to the medium of communication in which it is deployed -- text messages themselves designed to be a quick way of telling something to someone.

This argument falls apart, however, when one considers the simple adage, "Practice makes perfect." The same argument is applied to using text-speak on-line: it is claimed that the fractions of seconds saved by missing out characters can make all the difference on, to take a WoW example, a message typed in the middle of a boss-fight, where time is at a premium for communication owing to being completely disabled while typing. But consider this: what if one actually practises typing full words from the start? They'll type quicker as they learn the positions of the keys. Text-speak is a whole other language with its own alphabet -- pseudo-Oriental in its use of certain characters to represent whole words (compare Japanese or Chinese Kanji with "4" as a substitute for the combination of phonics producing the sound "for").
To become fluent in any language, you have to think in that language. That's what fluency means: you spend no time at all consciously thinking about what you want to say -- the words enter your speech centres directly from your subconscious and go straight out; and, conversely, words of others in the same language flow into your brain and are immediately understood. A scholar of Latin could stare at a complex sentence for many minutes to work out its full meaning; show it to a Roman and he'll react to it instantly.
Where typing is concerned, the same logic applies, but rather than your brain being the key motivator, it is a combination of your brain and muscles. Muscle memory is used to remember the position of the keys. Assuming one has one's hands anchored at the same location on the keyboard, one's muscles learn exactly how far to move in order to press down on a particular key. Combine that with fluency in the language, and you have the phenomenon touch-typing.
So, learning fluency in English, rather than in text-speak, means that the two are apples and oranges. Those who claim that the amount of time saved by cutting out characters make such a claim from the position of typing proper English really slowly. I would type text-speak as slowly as they would type English.

This is a large diversion from the point I want to make, which is the following: once you are fluent in a language, you can devote more time to analysing it instead of spending time making sure that what you are saying it grammatically accurate. You can analyse the differences in meaning between "drenched" and "damp"; both mean "wet" but have differing levels of wetness associated with them. This varying scale can be applied to other, more subtle examples: Greed vs. Gluttony, Tautology vs. Redundancy. By such analysis, one starts to use more precise language; one becomes more efficient, in a way that text-speak, by its very nature as an invention of convenience thought up in but a moment compared to the millennial evolution of English, cannot hope to achieve. In that previous sentence, I could have said "the evolution of English over thousands of years"; but "millennial" is more succint and conveys the exact same meaning.

So. Americanisms. Why am I annoyed at their use of language today? Well, it isn't the spelling, for once. At least, not really. Instead, my problem is that some of our English idioms have been corrupted by our Free cousins, in ways that do not make sense; ways that show, clearly, a disregard for actual thought: text-speak evolutions, done in haste, mistranslation or for convenience.

Some examples for you:

Correct idiom: "I couldn't care less." Meaning of idiom: "I don't care." Americanised idiom: "I could care less."
Why the Americanism is wrong: Just think about it for a moment. If you use a conditional sentence indicating that you could care less about something, you are saying that the current reality is that you do care to an extent -- that it would be possible for you in another circumstance to care to a lesser extent than you currently do. But the meaning is supposed to be "I do not care one little bit. It is impossible for my care level to be lower: My level of care is 0 on the scale from 0 to infinity. I could not care less."

Correct idiom "There is still a way to go." Meaning of idiom: "Progress is still to be made before we can consider this deed accomplished." Americanism: "There is still a ways to go."
Why the Americanism is wrong: a way. A: singular, impersonal pronoun. Singular. It is a singular, non-collective noun. Change it for any similar word: "We have been travelling on this path for a mile, but we are only half way along it. There is still a mile to go." Not "A miles", "a mile".

Now, by the sounds of things, I am late to the party on this one, because Webster has prepared a defence: it insists that idioms are not defined by their grammatical structure, and that, by their nature, require foundational knowledge of the culture in which they are used if they are to be understood. I do not consider this argument remotely adequate: There is no cultural difference between "A way to go" and "A ways to go". They convey the exact same thing. The only difference is that one of them is wrong. Furthermore, "I could/couldn't care less" is not the same as the difference between, for instance, "He kicked the bucket," in English and ,"He broke his pipe," in French -- in the latter idiomatic construct, and others of its kind, the thought being conveyed is completely based in imagery and metaphor. "I couldn't care less", however, is entirely linguistic. Calling these literal expressions "Idioms" is therefore something of a misnomer: They are commonly used expressions specific to a particular language, and they are expressed as self-contained units in the same way that individual words are, but their grammar should nevertheless be correct. There is no reason why someone from another culture should not be able to understand the meaning expressed by "I couldn't care less" simply by reading the sentence.

I will come up with more examples and lengthen this treatise, but I should really do the heroic daily and stuff.

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