Tag: language

Wrong: a modest trumpposal

Something occurred to me late in the 2016 presidential race.1 Everybody was like “this guy lies and never faces consequences,” but was going about it in pretty much the least effective way possible.

I’m sure folks who hold this opinion were well-meaning, but they seemed to be coming from a time where being caught lying is the worst thing a public official can do. Slimy politicians are supposed to, what, recoil with shame, mumble an apology and exit the spotlight?

That’s obviously not the playbook now, and it should have been clear to anyone even a little awake in 2016. So can I just propose some slick new language for describing a case where a public statement doesn’t quite match up with reality?

You don’t call it “inaccurate” or “unfactual.” We’re all very impressed that you went to college.

You don’t call it “lying” because that’s what 4D-chess-playing businessmen do when they negotiate, I guess.

The word you’re looking for is “wrong.” They’re wrong, you say they’re wrong.

Wrong helps keep a record. It classifies the statement into a clear category, helping reinforce objective reality in a time where it’s needed.

Wrong is, at the same time, a little soft and assumes the best intentions. Swing and a miss. Good hustle out there, little buddy—you can’t hit ’em all. 

Wrong is, most importantly, universal. You could be a middle school dropout and remember the feeling from, I don’t know, multiplication tables or something. Being wrong isn’t game-over, but each wrong stings a little.

At some point, if anyone’s actually keeping score, consistent wrongness writ large in headlines for years on end makes a case for malpractice. And who the fuck would tie up their identity supporting somebody who’s just so loudly and consistently wrong, in public, all the time?

  1. I know, I’m sorry I kept this to myself.[↩]

Derechos, am I right(s)?

Spanish is a language I’ve studied on and off throughout my life, but never hard enough, it seems. Seeing a pamphlet recently, titled Declaración de los derechos, made me feel that way. The actual meaning (“declaration of rights”) was easy enough for me to figure out, but I was surprised when I realized that the Spanish word for “rights” is derechos.

Whether or not you understand Spanish, you may be wondering why I found this so strange.

Well, a word in Spanish I certainly know is derecha (which means “right”… as in, the direction that isn’t “left”) — it’s one of the first words anyone learns in Spanish. And despite that word and derechos having different genders, it can’t be a coincidence that the two words are almost the same in both English and Spanish.

What’s so weird about that? Why shouldn’t these English homophones be similar in Spanish?

I’d explain it like this: I mostly feel this way because of how it works with another pair of Spanish words — in English, the word free has different meanings that each translate differently. Most of the time we probably think of it in the “costing zero dollars” sense… but there’s also the arguably higher-minded definition “existing without restriction.” In Spanish, they’re two very different words, the former being gratis and the latter being libre.

In the English-speaking world, I see the difference between the two “frees” most often come up in the Free Software1 community. When discussing Free Software philosophy, people will wax eloquent about the different meanings of free, using phrases like “free as in beer” and “free as in freedom” to help contrast the two. They’ll also occasionally veer into explanations of Spanish vocabulary to highlight the difference, pointing out that gratis and libre are more precise ways to describe two kinds of software, both of which are “free,” but in significantly different senses of the word.

With my mind steeped in this software salon culture of the back-alley forums of the Internet, I became so keenly aware of the extra meaning words can pick up when translated into other languages.

And that’s why I find it so hard to believe that, en Español, “rights” are simply derechos. The translation should be something more abstract… more libre-like. I wouldn’t have guessed that when translated, my rights become “not lefts.”

  1. You may also know this as “Open Source,” although there are folks who will tell you that they’re not the same thing. These folks have beards.[↩]

Can we just drop this?

If you’re not a rapper promoting your new album — and especially if you’re a non-rapper who works in marketing — can you do us a favor and not use “drop” to mean “the date on which [my thing] is set to be released”?

I’m sorry you’ve chosen e-mail spam or whatever the fuck you do for a living, but talking about the day your new campaign or whatever “drops” doesn’t make you sound hip or hard or whatever.

There is one acceptable use outside the rap game: are you a pregnant woman discussing the date your kid is due to be born? Then that’s… actually totally cool.

“Lil’ shorty drops November 7th. Yeah.”
–Expectant mother

Toolbogged

Oh, hey guys — I just invented a new word.

toolbogged /ˈtulˌbɒgged/
(v. intr; past participle of toolbog)

To become so consumed by the process of researching and selecting gear (often software) for a given task that one never actually completes the task itself

I’ve been completely toolbogged trying to automate fixing the date and time on hundreds of RAW files from vacation last fall… that I never even sorted the pics themselves!1

  1. Based on a true story, sadly.[↩]

This is cool. Slash get off my lawn.

Slash: Not Just a Punctuation Mark Anymore

Two weeks ago, one student brought up the word slash as an example of new slang, and it quickly became clear to me that many students are using slash in ways unfamiliar to me.

(…)

6. I need to go home and write my essay slash take a nap.

(…)

12. JUST SAW ALEX! Slash I just chubbed on oatmeal raisin cookies at north quad and i miss you

via BoingBoing