I don’t need no stinking comments.

Written By: admin - Aug• 08•12

My husband and I have a funny story, in that way couples have stories that have become funny through time and retelling. It’s not about us, of course, but a completely hypothetical couple who isn’t us.

At the time our story takes place, one half of the couple — let’s call that half Apple — was in school and writing a lot of papers, including frequent use of fairly specialized terminology. Making a perfectly reasonable decision, Apple decided to turn off the spell-check feature on the word processing program, lest the squiggly red lines take over the screen entirely.

Unbeknownst to Apple, her partner — we’ll call the partner Bacon — was planning a special gift. Not being an intuitive Red Pen Brigade sort of person, Bacon used the word processor to check the spelling of some words to be engraved on Apple’s shiny new item. Not seeing any squiggly red lines, Bacon happily went off and had a typo engraved on the gift (that’s right… the engraver also didn’t catch the mistake).

Obviously, this not-us story is hilarious, which is why when we find ourselves recounting it, for one reason or another, we totally don’t end up having a disagreement about whether unilaterally turning off the spell-check is a good idea. ANYWAY.

I have a point here, and it has to do with this lovely submission from Ernie.

My point is: this sign was typed. On some sort of digital device connected to a printer. In this day and age.

I choose to believe that the sign author’s spouse/partner/office-mate is a scholar majoring in something with a lot of jargon, like neurobiochemistry. (Squiggly red line!) It doesn’t exactly excuse the author’s spelling decisions, but at least it is a perfectly reasonable explanation for why they weren’t fixed.

(Thanks, Ernie!)

A slippery, silly sort of language… still has rules.

Written By: admin - Aug• 06•12

Here, walk through this one with me.

Think about vacations. You know how vacations are. You plan for them, and as you do you get excited.  Maybe, if you’re me, you also start freaking out about packing and your spouse decides to hide under the bed until the suitcases are sealed (which is usually about 45 minutes before you have to be at the airport, regardless of time of day or sleep patterns). But anyway: you get excited.

And then you have the vacation, and it’s fabulous, and you love it, and the only bad thing is that the whole time it’s going on, you know it’s going to end.

And THEN you get to pack (less stressful on the way home, at least!), and leave the nice place, and carry the heavy luggage, and fly with the kid kicking your chair every 20 seconds, and have the stupid really long layover, and realize you have to go to work tomorrow, and since your flight is late probably the dog will have peed on the floor, so the very first thing you get to do when you get home is try not to step in the pee as you feel around for the light switch in the kitchen.

So you know how you’re feeling, right about now?

Now imagine that you see this. (Also, if it isn’t the case, imagine that you speak French.)

It’s times like these that it’s hard not to freak out and wind up on an episode of Airline. I mean, you’re exhausted, and you’re on your way home from a nice vacation and about to step in a puddle of pee… the LAST thing you want is existential musings about delicious pastries!

I don’t know whether this object was, in fact, bread or chocolate. Either way, it was tasty.

(First poster with the source citation gets 10 RPB points.)

Dad Week: Saving the best for last

Written By: admin - Aug• 03•12

Fundamentally, my red-pen-y-ness is about one thing: my love of words. It’s also about my love of order, I guess, or my deep-seated desire to control things that ought to be easy (apostrophes) in a world full of things I can’t control (my sock drawer). But so much of my rage at poor writing comes from the joy I feel when exposed to good writing.

Words are beautiful. For example: Tintinnabulation. I’m sorry that word was ruined for you by your high school English teacher, but try to move past that for a minute: tintinnabulation. It’s a word that means “the ringing or sound of bells,” because we needed a word for that. It was entirely too much effort to say “the ringing or sound of bells” — and also, when you have something as beautiful as the ringing or sound of bells, it deserves its own word, you know?

So anyway, I love words, and when I encounter a word that I’ve never really thought about before I’m a happy camper. And if it’s a niche word that would have to be used in a very specific context to really work, and is being used in that context properly… well then.

So here you go, Dear Readers. Your Friday Moment of Awesome.

*Happy sigh*

Dad Week: Today in #Whut

Written By: admin - Aug• 02•12

Ever wonder how to keep thieves from stealing your stuff? The answer was so simple all the time!

Glad we cleared that up.

Dad Week: Wednesday picker-upper

Written By: admin - Aug• 01•12

Today’s picture is a perfect example of what I mean about language translation leading to whimsy. There’s nothing wrong with this sign. There isn’t any reason why I couldn’t open a bakery right here in my own fair city and name it “Lovely Sweets.” I probably wouldn’t, though, and I can’t even explain why… unless my last name were “Lovely,” which it isn’t.

There’s nothing at all wrong here, and somehow it’s just delightful.

I haven’t gotten to go anywhere exciting in a long time. (No offense, Curaçao! You’re the best!) But when I do travel, I’m a big fan of stopping at places exactly like this one. I’d just go in and eat whatever I could point at. For what it’s worth, this culinary strategy serves me well most of the time!

Dad Week: Reading incomprehension

Written By: admin - Jul• 31•12

There’s nothing at all wrong with the signage here. I’m perfectly able to understand what the author meant. The driver of this car, apparently, had a tougher time.

Dad Week: Existential Education

Written By: admin - Jul• 30•12

You can say many things about this educational facility in Agra, but you cannot deny its existence. It’s irrefutable.

This one puzzles, me, actually. Lots of times you can guess what the author was going for, but I’m at a loss here. Anybody?

New Category, New Week Theme!

Written By: admin - Jul• 30•12

This is my blog. I pay to maintain it, and while it’s not a huge sum of money, it’s probably ridiculous given what I get out of it. So I’m going to experiment a little with what goes on here, because I can, because see previous sentence.

THIS WEEK, I intend to post five of my favorite pictures from my father’s recent trip to India. My dad and I have similar senses of humor, and as I browsed through his eleventy gazillion photos, I giggled several times.

Please note that these are NOT giggle-worthy because I’m mocking people whose first language isn’t English. It’s always tough to explain exactly what I mean when I say that some signs are just fun. Even when their authors are native English speakers, some signs just end up creating a sense of delightful whimsy — or panic — or expressing huge levels of frustration. Whatever it is, the sign communicates more than just information, and I like to stop and look at it.  And it’s true that when one learns a foreign language, one can sometimes create perfectly legitimate, communicative sentences that are nonetheless delightful, whether because they’re unintentionally funny or because of idiomatic usages or, yes, because they’re just so oddly wrong that they’re funny.

So before I start out my week of Delightful Signs From Dad’s Trip, I’m going to get the ball rolling with one of my own. I may have mentioned or even posted this before. I wrote it, but in my own defense it was before I had studied Mandarin, and therefore before I knew anything at all about stroke order or… anything, really. I found myself living in a long-term hotel in Beijing with basically no Chinese language skills at all. My colleagues in the hotel told me they were getting soap daily as part of their room-cleanings, but I hadn’t been. So I decided to set out to ask, as nicely as I could, for soap, from the nice cleaning people who always managed to come when we weren’t around. I’m not even sure this sign is comprehensible. But here you go, it’s below, because I’ll put my money where my mouth is.

Okay: and also because I don’t feel like telling several of the other stories of linguistic mistakes I’ve made!

Speak Mandarin? Feel like telling me what this actually says (if it’s even legible?) Bring it on!

Reporter #1’s new guidebook!

Written By: admin - Jul• 02•12

Okay, this isn’t a done deal, but I’m pitching it here and now. It’ll be irreverent, hip, young — and all about the best typos in Buffalo!

First among the many fine places you must visit in Buffalo is the Buffalo Zoo, where members are only appreciated two nights a year. Or three, or six. It’s tough to tell, but it’s obviously not very many nights.

If you’re sticking around Buffalo for a while and have children, do make sure you check out the summer reading program, focusing on the consumption of writing without being particular about punctuation.

On the other hand, maybe Reporter #1 is limiting herself geographically a bit too soon.

Link, in the vain hope that they’ll see this and FIIIIX IIIIIT.

I’m a huge fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous green rage monster.

Written By: admin - Jun• 29•12

Other than that, there’s not much to say about this one, which appeared on Reporter #1’s Facebook feed.

Eeeeeeeee this one is like fingernails and chalkboards. (Youngsters: chalkboards were the whiteboards of my day, and uphill both ways in the snow.)

Ugh. After a frisson of horror like that, we clearly need a break full of geeky bromance. You’re welcome.

I mean, I want to put a comma before “Losers” there, but in that instance the awesome outweighs the punctuation issues.

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