A typical Rube Goldberg invention
Today, Ms. Picky would like to discuss inventions. No, not tablet computers, cloud computing, or 3D TV. The subject today is the invention of words and phrases. One might think of them as verbal “Rube Goldbergs.”
Rube Goldberg, born in San Francisco, in 1883, was best known for his cartoons that showed complex devices designed to perform simple tasks—tasks like sharpening a pencil or putting toothpaste on a toothbrush—in convoluted ways. People delighted in his cartoons, and, even today, this type of invention is referred to as a “Rube Goldberg.” (The popular children’s board game “Mousetrap” is based on a kind of “Rube Goldberg.”)
Our discussion today is about misspellings, mispronunciations, and preposterous constructions that neither evolved over hundreds of years nor came from another language. They are words or phrases that are like verbal Rube Goldberg inventions—needlessly complicated, when a simpler existing idea or construction will serve better.
Ms. Picky has often discussed words that are confused because they sound the same, or words that are confused because they mean something similar. This type of confusion is sometimes understandable.
There are other words, however—that are perfectly straightforward—that people nevertheless choose to replace with invented words, either omitting letters or syllables, or pulling letters or syllables out of thin air and inserting them. They are the verbal Rube Goldbergs.
There are other words, however—that are perfectly straightforward—that people nevertheless choose to replace with invented words, either omitting letters or syllables, or pulling letters or syllables out of thin air and inserting them. They are the verbal Rube Goldbergs.
Some of the more egregious examples are:
realtor [REE-al-tore]: (mispronounced as REAL-ih-tore)
nuclear [NEW-klee-ure]: (mispronounced as NUKE-you-lar)
mischievous [MISS-chev-us]: (mispronounced as mis-CHEEV-ee-us)
February [FEB-ru-ur-ee]: (mispronounced as FEB-u-ur-ee)
irrelevant [ir-REL-eh-vant]: (mispronounced as ir-REV-el-ent)
foliage [FOLE-ee-ij]: (mispronounced as FOIL-ij)
lackadaisical [lack-uh-DAYS-ih-cull]: (mispronounced as LAX-uh-days-ih-cull)
prerogative [preh-ROG-uh-tov]: (mispronounced and misspelled as per-OG-uh-tov)
masonry [MAY-son-ree]: (mispronounced MAY-son-err-ee)
pronunciation [pro-nun-see-AY-shun]: (mispronounced pro-NOUN-see-ay-shun)
card sharp [pronounced as written]: (mispronounced, misused, and misspelled as “card shark”)
spit and image [pronounced as written]: (mispronounced, misused, and misspelled as “spitting image”)
Next we come to a few situations with words that people pronounce as they should, but that they become creative about spelling—spelling in a way that has no possible meaning in English or any other language. The formations are: should’ve, would’ve, or could’ve—which one has some limited license to pronounce as contractions in spoken English, but which license is abused when, in written English, the contractions are spelled “should of,” “would of,” or “could of.” What could such a construction possibly mean?
All right, maybe you just can’t help yourself—you’re just a cool, casual, laid-back kind of person, and you like to elide.* Well, elide away—but, for heaven’s sake, spell your elisions in a way that at least alludes to the words they were created from—“should have,” “would have,” and “could have”—and use an apostrophe and a ve to indicate the “ha” that has, in each case, been left out!
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*“To elide” is to omit a vowel, consonant, or syllable of a word; to “skip over” a letter or part of a word, either for ease in pronunciation, or as a kind of verbal shorthand.
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Bulletin Board
To N.C.: Ms. Picky regrets to inform you that your dictionary is indeed correct: A “coronet” is a small crown. A “cornet” is a musical instrument, a kind of horn. This is a particularly important distinction if you have in mind to marry into nobility, where an unfortunate verbal juxtaposition could have a most awkward effect on your dinner costume.
To P.A.: If you were to have several martinis before dinner, perhaps you might be considered to be “wetting your appetite.” (Sorry, that usage is absolutely incorrect; forgive Ms. Picky her little puns.) When you have an “appetizer” before dinner, you’re supposed to be “whetting your appetite.” To whet your appetite”—whether the “appetite” in question is your appetite for food or any of your other appetites—is to sharpen it, to make it more intense, to provoke it, to wake it up. It has absolutely nothing to do with anything wet or with any liquid (alcoholic or otherwise). Think of a whetstone, one of those dark-gray rectangular stones used to sharpen a knife.
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