interrobanging?!

 

For years I've been telling students you only get one mark of punctuation at the end of a sentence. Decide if you want it to be a question mark or an exclamation mark. You don't get two. The students might, of course, use the interrobang. It's a punctuation mark invented by Martin K. Spekter in 1962. The name comes from a combination of the question mark (interrogaton point) and the exclamation mark, called a bang in printer's jargon. The American Heritage Dictionary accepts the spelling interabang as well. The OED has no entry under either spelling. It's availabble in Wingdings 2 in Word. Merriam-Webster says interrobang rhymes with oragutan, but it's a slant rhyme at best. Here's a great article about the interrobang from Shady Characters: the secret life of punctuation.

usage and abusage

 

This ad was placed in Popular Science in 1926 by the Sherwin Cody School of English in Rochester, NY. The rest of the ad was an offer for his home-study course in English. From Wikipedia: The Sherwin Cody 100% Self-correcting Course in English Language arrived in 25 weekly booklets, each divided into five sections. Composition was on Mondays, spelling on Tuesdays, punctuation on Wednesdays, grammar on Thursdays, and conversation and literature on Fridays. The daily lessons were tied to other reference books published by Cody including his Nutshell Library, a collection of pocket books excerpting the works of great writers, supplemented the literary studies. You can read his The Art of Writing and Speaking the English Language here. You can buy the course itself here.

word of the day

 

Cheftestant: which I've also seen spelled chef'testant and chef-testant. The Urban Dictionary defines the term: Competitor on a cooking show. Coined by recapper Keckler on televisionwithoutpity.com, it is the combination of the words "chef" and "contestant." Inspired by Bravo channel's "Top Chef." [The TV show should, of course, be italicized, not in quotes.] 

disguise

 

"Every story is about an achievement, otherwise there's no story. The poor use every kind of ruse but no disguise. The rich are usually disguised until they die. One of their most common disguises is Success."

-- John Berger, Bento's Sketchbook

virginia tech reading

 
 

I understand some folks are unable to see the poster above, so here's the info: I'm reading at 7:30 on Friday February 3 in VBI 145 at Virginia Tech. Beth in Roanoke made a poster and sent it along. Thanks, Beth, see you in Blacksburg.

 

where not to eat in boca*

Another excrutiating dining experience in Boca Raton. Matteo's doesn't take reservations for parties of fewer than six people. So the five of us waited over an hour for a table, being told all the while, "Ten more minutes," by the smiling hostess, who would be the last pleasant person we'd encounter at Matteo's. Finally we get seated. We hadn't opened the menus when our waiter asked us if we had decided on our meals. He explained that with the restaurant so busy best to order food first and drinks second. He brought water; we ordered. He forgot to come back for the drink order. We were about to head for the bar when he returned and told us his name "Bucci with a B." Cindy ordered a Brazilian cosmo martini. He said, "How do you make it?" "I don't know; it's on your menu." "We don't have a drink menu." But, of course, they do: here! And shouldn't the drink be the bartender's job? So she orders a cosmo. I order Sam Adams. They don't have it. Bucci begins to tell me the beer list. The second beer is Peroni, I say, "Peroni," but he keeps going through the list and I keep saying Peroni after each beer, and when he finishes he waits for me to say Peroni again. The salad arrives in due time, family style, but Bucci is in such a hurry to serve it into our plates that he tosses salad in my lap--he apologizes. We wait for over an hour before the food arrives, being told several times that the serving was imminent. (It's pasta, folks!) We did get bread and three pats of butter--"It's all we have right now." Two choices with the bread: the stale white Italian or the toasted white Italian which his rock hard and undigestible (or indigestible, if you prefer). It's my brother-in-law Roger's birthday, but we've already decided we aren't having dessert. Bucci knows this delay is intolerable, so he brings Cindy a complimentary drink. Just Cindy, no one else. The food arrives at last. The Italian sausage is dry as dust. The marinara sauce just ordinary at best, like something out of a jar. The penne, way beyond al dente. At some point Bucci, who has been studiously avoiding us, shares with us that there are items you can order that are not on the menu, but you have to know about them. What a great idea! He names something called Chicken Irving (I'm not making that up) as an example. It's Chicken Francais with chili on top. He's had it; it's one of the best things they make, but, as he said, it's not on the menu. You just have to know. 

* Or Hallandale, Jupiter, Orlando, or any of the New York locations

nobble writing

Here's my friend Phoebe up early working on her nobble in her snug little office. The nobble's about horses and children. Phoebe also named my Scion Horseyville and Cindy's VW Penny. Phoebe will be at the Rosemary Beach writers conference this May. Will you?

the old masters

 

 

Musee des Beaux Arts

W. H. Auden

About suffering they were never wrong,
The old Masters: how well they understood
Its human position: how it takes place
While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along;
How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting
For the miraculous birth, there always must be
Children who did not specially want it to happen, skating
On a pond at the edge of the wood:
They never forgot
That even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course
Anyhow in a corner, some untidy spot
Where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer's horse
Scratches its innocent behind on a tree. 

In Breughel's Icarus, for instance: how everything turns away
Quite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman may
Have heard the splash, the forsaken cry,
But for him it was not an important failure; the sun shone
As it had to on the white legs disappearing into the green
Water, and the expensive delicate ship that must have seen
Something amazing, a boy falling out of the sky,
Had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.

copy test


 This ad ran in the New York Times. The contact person, you'll note, was Jim Patterson, who left the firm to become James Patterson, writer, or rather publisher/creative director, given that he operates with a stable of writers all publishing under his brand.