Wednesday, November 13, 2002

Egregious misuse of the English language is so pervasive that it's probably not worth documenting.  The Yawp, however, rushes in where Edwin Newman fears to tread. The disease is so insidious that it often infects those of us who person the ramparts.  The Raven was recently rude enough to chastise me (gently) for using the term medicine person when referring to those of the Native American persuasion who practice the art of healing.  I just hate it when he's right. Today's news regurgitated an unusual abundance of truly Olympian obfuscatory verbiage.  To wit: KING -TV in Seattle reported on a 37-year-old woman who had fallen to her death while hiking along the cliffs overlooking Deception Pass.  One Capt. John Aydelotte was flagged down by a bystander.  "I boarded him from the locks there and we went to the area where it was reported and discovered her on the water's edge, where she had fallen approximately 200 yards down the cliffside," said Aydelotte. If Capt. Aydelotte ever tries to board me from the locks, he'd better be wearing a steel jock strap. You might think that our colleagues in the Old Country would try to set an example for the wogs here in the Colonies.  Not so. British Airways has been trying to address what they refer to as "ground rage."  They stole a page from the book used by soccer referees and have been handing out "yellow cards" to unruly passengers.  The card reads like something that was written by the mad Samurai who creates instruction manuals for Japanese electronics. "Please now calm down and act in a sensible manner so that our staff can deal with your problem.  We have given you this notice to make sure that you understand clearly: the gravity of your current situation; and the possible consequences; and the need to moderate your conduct immediately." I think I'm coming down with semicolon cancer. As I may have mentioned once or twice before, this blog is intended to stimulate interactivity.  Did I just coin a new word?  Never mind.  Scour the media for more examples of verbal misprision and post them here at the Yawp. Mrs. Malaprop and I will select the winners. 11:57:12 PM    comment [] I was chowing down on an oyster poorboy at Boss Tweed's today when a very important question suddenly appeared on my inner CRT.  What ever happened to Neil Bush? You remember Neil.  He's the president's other bro who was up to his beady little eyes in the Savings and Loan debacle a few years back.  He walked, of course.  That's what happens to members of our classless society's ruling class when they get their tails caught in a crack. From date rape and binge drinking in the frat house to killing a staff member by driving off a bridge, people like the Bushes and Kennedys are rarely held accountable.  That's why they feel like they can thumb their noses at the rest of us when we're gullible enough to elect them to public office.  There's another screed in that, but I'll save it for later. Has anybody else noticed how completely Neil Bush vanished off the radar screen once his bro got sworn in?  He was certainly a political liability, but the whole Bush clan exudes an aroma of corruption.  Why disappear good old Neil? Disappear he did as though he was pushed out of an airplane by some goonish minion of a South American dictator.  He's, like, gone. Perhaps he's in Ambrose Bierceville or Judge Cratertown or Jimmy Hoffaland.  I wonder if we'll ever know. Meantime, I'd like to create a new category of urban legend here on salon.com.  Let's start a catalogue of Neil Bush sightings, just like the National Enquirer collects Elvis sightings.  The more bizarre, the better. I'll start.  Neil Bush was sighted sneaking out of Hillary Clinton's hotel room at 3:00 AM.  He was wearing nothing but boxer shorts with the Forbes magazine logo rampant. I've got some more, but this is supposed to be an interactive medium.  Bring it on, Yawpaholics! 9:43:43 PM    comment []

© Copyright 2002 Christopher Key. Last update: 12/16/2002; 12:47:41 AM.