blog
tyblography

categories

architecture (28)
on location (21)
random thoughts (1,255)
staff (25)
the design life (283)
the writing life (410)
blog archive




“And the earth was without form, and void…”

Many, many, many times I’ve been told to not begin sentences with “and.” Or any other conjunction, for that matter. It’s one of two rules people remember from high school English class (the other being never to end your sentences with a preposition).

Both are nonsense.

Winston Churchill famously disabused us of the latter with “This is the sort of English up with which I will not put.” As for the former, I’ll let the late William F. Buckley, Jr. clear things up a bit.

To a correspondent who wrote in to say “Don’t start a sentence with ‘and,'” and then wondered “just how good (or bad) your high school was,” Buckley shot back a terse reminder that “verses 2-26 and 28-31, Chapter I, Genesis, all begin with ‘And.’ The King James scholars went to pretty good high schools.”

Touché.

What’s more important than scoring a cheap debating point, however, is to consider how Buckley explained his position to a subsequent correspondent:

“But my point wasn’t that the King James scholars correctly translated from the original, rather that they were the most influential writers in English history. The general rule is not to begin a sentence with “and”; the particular rule is that writers with a good ear know when to break the general rule.”

So here’s a rule worth remembering: Let your ear be your guide.

And don’t, warns Paul Brians, Emeritus Professor of English at WSU, confine English usage in a logical straitjacket.

Quote of the Day

From Thomas Merton comes this, the sort of statement that would make for a fine mantra—if I believed in the efficacy of mantras:

“If a writer is so cautious that he never writes anything that cannot be criticized, he will never write anything that can be read.”

Mmm…Books

Google tells us that there exist 129,864,880 different books in the world. It’s a bit daunting for the dwindling number of us who still read.

A more useful exercise might be to count how many books there are that are actually worth reading. The first step should be to remove from contention all memoirs by celebrities, athletes, and politicians. Then, we ought to cull the ridiculously overrated stuff—like Catcher in the Rye, for instance, and All the President’s Men. Finally, anything by L. Ron Hubbard.

There now. That makes our list a little more manageable, doesn’t it?

Summer Reading Notes

I’m in the midst of Patrick Leigh Fermor’s A Time of Gifts, an account of the author’s walk across Europe in the mid-1930s. He was in Germany, in fact, just as Hitler came to power—a time when the flames of political rhetoric were, one would think, much more easily fanned than they are today.

Yet Fermor, as he was making his way through Bavaria just months before the Night of the Long Knives, wrote that “it was still possible for people to know each other fairly well without the dimmest idea of their opinions.”

What a magnificent time that must have been.

Branding Xs and Os

Pac-10 commissioner Larry Scott is on a mission to raise awareness for his expanding athletic conference. In a recent edition of Sports Illustrated, he makes it clear that if the Pac-10 wants to increase its earning power—say, to the same level as the Big Ten and the SEC—then rebranding is in order.

Scott’s idea was sparked by another Sports Illustrated article that ran last year. Under the headline “SEC Football” read “Nobody Does It Better: The Nation’s Toughest Conference.” Ouch! Seems this particular story touched a nerve with the new commish, who promptly sent copies of the article to folks around the Pac-10 while telling them “if you don’t think conferences are brands, pay attention to this.”

I’ve never met Larry Scott, but I like him already. The recently unveiled Pac-10 logo (in the near future the “10” will be replaced with a “12”) will be seen on uniforms, playing surfaces, and school merchandise. Even conference TV spots will be revamped. But perhaps what I’m most impressed by is Mr. Scott’s understanding of identity and that a new logo, albeit important, won’t solve all their problems. He knows that a new Pac-10 identity can only be defined by the conference schools, athletes, and staff, wisely stating that “a logo is just a logo, unless you back it up with actions.”

I don’t advocate betting on college athletics, but I’m willing to wager that the Pac-10’s brand refresh will help improve their bottom line.

I’m Persua-dead

With the dog days* of summer upon us, one could do worse than find relief from the heat in the music of the Grateful Dead. It’s a seasonal thing for me: their live stuff goes on heavy rotation around May or June; by September they’re back in the ‘G’ section in my CD library.

I know what some of you are thinking. How can you—so suave and sophisticated, with your Mahler and Schönberg and Beethoven and Janáček—listen to those smelly hippies?

Glad you asked. Rather than discourse on the merits of the music itself, however, I’ll simply point you to a rather lovely treatment of “Ripple” from the 2000 album Might as Well: The Persuasions Sing the Grateful Dead.

We’re all hippies now.

*We can thank the Romans for this phrase. They called the hottest weeks of the summer caniculares dies, their theory being that the Dog Star, rising with the sun, added to its heat, and that the dog days (roughly July 3 to August 11) bore the combined heat of both.

Quote of the Day

In an article in the 01/2010 issue of Audi Magazine, Richard Koshalek, director of the Smithsonian’s Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden, had this to say about creative folks:

“Across the United States, to a large extent, there’s been a fear of the creative individual, of artists, that they’re going to do something unpredictable. We have to get over that fear. We have to see them as colleagues. I believe the future may be unknowable, but it’s not unthinkable. If this country would listen to creative people, things would be much better.”

America in Color, 1939–43

 

Because it’s not always about words, here’s an amazing collection of color images taken by photographers of the Farm Security Administration/Office of War Information.

Some Light Verse

While I’m not so much of a cotton-headed ninny-muggins as to suggest that all we need is to give peace a chance, I do believe that a good poem goes a long way toward healing the ills of our existence. With that in mind, readers of the last word will occasionally be treated to a hunk of verse hand-selected by AMD’s very own Poet Laureate. (That would be me.)

Today’s selection comes from William Plomer:

In the vegetarian guesthouse
All was frolic, feast, and fun;
Eager voices were enquiring,
“Are the nettle cutlets done?”
Peals of vegetarian laughter,
Husky, wholesome, wholemeal bread;
Will the evening finish with a
Rush of cocoa to the head?

Prepare to Be Grammared

The Boston Globe‘s Erin McKean seems to think that the practice of “verbing”—perhaps the worst thing to happen to the English language since Allen Ginsberg—is a conscientious effort to streamline communication. And a good thing, at that.

Regular readers of the last word won’t be surprised to learn that, when it comes to the use of “status,” “reference,” “transition,” et al. as verbs, I’m firmly in this camp. As should be all those who care about good writing.

Leaving a Bad Taste

Now I know the fine folks at Latah Creek Winery really do care what we all think of their new Monarch Red bottle labels, but do they really need to ask the general public? It would seem so, since they’re asking for your help in selecting from among five different label designs, each featuring the same local artist’s work. And while the label painting is fine, the thought of turning over the final design decision to the public makes me want to not swallow my Pinot Gris.

“If I’d asked my customers what they wanted,” Henry Ford famously observed, “they’d have said a faster horse.” This has been quoted—often—by none other than Apple Computer’s focus-group-averse CEO Steve Jobs, who, by the way, isn’t a fan of letting the public decide anything. And strangely enough, this strategy seems to be working pretty well for him. While none of this is to say that public perceptions should be ignored, it’s a shame when packaging design is reduced to a popularity contest.

But maybe I’m missing the point. Latah Creek will gain PR value from having someone select the actual label design. (I know I prefer to drink from the labels that we’ve designed.) Or it could be they really can’t decide among the five labels which is going to “attract your attention the most on a store shelf.” Worse yet, they might actually believe the general public does have a clue as to what makes for good consumer packaging.

We all like hearing what people think because, well…it makes us feel better. “Honey, does this color look good on me?” Or, “Does this wine label make my bottle look too big?” So go here if you want to say you helped decide the future of Latah’s new premium red wine. I would, but I doubt you’re allowed to vote to take the label design in a slightly different direction.

The Best Show in Town

My wife and I attended the Harold Balazs art exhibit opening this past Saturday at the MAC. It was a real treat, and I highly recommend seeing this exhibit.

When we arrived, Harold was just introduced and began to make a few remarks. Apparently, the microphone wasn’t working, and we did our best to hear his words of wisdom. A fixture in Spokane’s art community, Harold is one of the most renowned artists of the Pacific Northwest. He always seems to be humbled by the fact that so many people enjoy the “stuff” he makes (he prefers not to call his work “art”). Harold is always honest, funny, and smart. He’s the guy you want to have around your campfire.

In the early 1960s he came up with his signature phrase “transcend the bullshit.”  It may well describe his philosophy about life. Every time I see a piece created by Harold, a single word always comes to mind: whimsy. Thanks, Harold, for making serious art so approachable and fun.

“Human Feeding Can Cause Overcrowding”

So the missus and I were enjoying a picnic in Cannon Hill Park last night when, as I was about to throw a hunk of sourdough bread to a pitiful-looking duck, she pointed to the sign:

I hate to be a grammar snob (really I do), but c’mon. “Human feeding”? The unnecessary—and rather Germanic—capitalization of “pond”? Worst of all is the comma splice, an indicator that the writer in question quit paying attention in English class around the seventh grade or so.

What’s a comma splice? Glad you asked. It’s when two independent clauses are joined by a comma. It’s also called a run-on sentence. (No, a long sentence is not, in and of itself, a run-on sentence.)

Anyway, in this case, “Ducks on this Pond are wild” is the first clause; “please help us keep them that way” is the second. There are three ways to address this. The first is to add a conjunction, like “so” (an inelegant solution at best).

Ducks on this Pond are wild, so please help us keep them that way.

The second is to use a semicolon instead of the comma.

Ducks on this Pond are wild; please help us keep them that way.

Finally, we could just write two sentences.

Ducks on this Pond are wild. Please help us keep them that way.

Here’s a quick test: if the parts of your sentence can stand on their own, don’t make the mistake of using only a comma to separate them.

And hey, Spokane Parks and Recreation? I’m available to proofread on a per-sign basis. Just call AMD corporate headquarters and we’ll have a contract drawn up.

Behold the Gender Genie!

Following up on yesterday’s post (scroll down), here’s an application that uses a super-secret algorithm to determine, from a writing sample, whether you’re male or female.

I tried to stump it, but to no avail. The Gender Genie correctly guessed “male” with every sample I entered. Clearly, then, I’m all man. It’s scientific.

Hmmm…

I write like
Stephen King

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

Well then. Not at all what I expected. This nifty little application analyzes your writing—with a “statistical analysis tool,” no less—and tells you what famous author it most resembles.

So I had a short story scrutinized, followed by a handful of articles and feature stories, then some random long-form stuff I’ve done here at AMD. Apart from the occasional anomaly (H.P. Lovecraft, George Orwell), the overwhelming consensus seems to be that I write like Stephen King.

That’s a pretty strong case for a raise, I’m thinking.

back to top    |     1 124 125 126 127 128 130     |    archive >