Hi, my name is [redacted] and I am a High School student. I want to major in Linguistics. I have always been interested in language, even as a child, and although I have only discovered linguistics recently, I have never had this strong sense of direction. Anyways I was wondering if there was any advice you could give me about studying linguistics.

Well, reader, thanks for sending me an email!

I’m delighted to hear that you’re interested in linguistics. As you point out here, for those for whom linguistics is truly a calling, it’s got quite a strong pull. Once you’ve found it and start looking more closely, it’s very easy to get sucked down the rabbit hole. If you’re anything like me, that pull might carry you through graduate school and beyond, so if you’re feeling that pull, well, hold on tight, you’re in for an awesome ride. Actually, though, that highlights what is the best advice I can give you at this point, both about studying linguistics and about life in general: Follow your passion.

Let’s face it, if you’re interested in studying linguistics, it’s not for money, power, fame, or prestige. It’s because you’re passionate about it, because you love the “work”, and because there’s some part of what it is that we do that appeals to you at a very deep level. My strongest advice is to take that appeal, that passion and harness it, and letting it guide you. As you start wading into the world of linguistics, you’ll realize that there are a great many subfields and areas of questioning, each of which has enough interesting questions for a hundred careers. Some of these fields will likely seem silly or boring to you. Some of them will feel pretty neutral. But sooner or later, you’re going to find a field within linguistics that you’re not only good at, but that you simply love. Although it’s good to know the basics of all the different subfields, and you’ll have to for most degree programs, it never hurts to put some extra time and energy into the fields you’re really passionate about.

So, if you find yourself fascinated by a topic, a sub-field, or even an individual question, take a related class and maybe write a paper about it. If you’re still fascinated by it after that, you may consider writing an honors thesis to explore the topic more deeply. If you’re still fascinated after all that, you’ve got yourself a Master’s Thesis. And if after all that, you’re still fascinated by the issue, well, that’s your dissertation topic right there. If that goes well, that might just be your niche, and maybe your career. All that, just for following your passion.

Pay attention as you’re reading for those questions that leap up and bite you. Pay attention when one particular topic puts you in your happy place. Know where you’re average, where you’re good, and where you’re incredible, and spend as much time as you can where you’re at your best.

People get into linguistics because they have a passion, and it’s vital that they keep a close eye on that passion and ride it for as long as they can. There are popular topics, lucrative topics, and interesting topics, but at the end of the day, you want to be studying something that you’re passionate about, something that keeps you up at night and wakes you up in the morning, and something that you can’t wait to find out more about.

So, reader, go forth, major in Linguistics and follow your passion from there, wherever it may lead you. You may not know where you’ll end up, but at the very least, you’ll know you’ll be enjoying yourself along the way.

However, in one of her recent episodes which discussed punctuating questions, she mentioned something that really mystified me: The Interrobang. I’ll quote her explanation below:

GrammarGirl said:
And finally, when you’re asking a question in surprise such as What? it isn’t appropriate to use multiple question marks or a question mark with an exclamation point. You’re supposed to pick the terminal punctuation mark that is most appropriate and use just one (1). Is your statement more of a question or more of an outburst?

I’ve always found that solution unsatisfactory, so I was thrilled to learn that there’s an obscure punctuation mark that was designed exclusively for asking questions in a surprised manner. It’s called an interrobang, and it looks like an exclamation point superimposed on a question mark.

You shouldn’t use the interrobang in formal writing, but I think it would be great if people started using it on blogs and in other informal communications. If you have the Wingdings 2 font in your word processing program, you can insert an interrobang as a special character, and there are unicode values that you can use to add the interrobang to your web site. I’ve put those in the transcript of this episode.

Although it’s a rather cool looking symbol, I think it’s a rather silly idea, and demonstrates one of the most frustrating aspects of prescriptive grammar.

So, the interrobang exists for a very distinct reason: Sometimes, you want to express that you’re surprised as you ask a given question, but you can’t use two punctuation marks at the end of a sentence.

My first thought when I read that was “How have I never heard of that rule?!”

…wait. Something’s wrong. I just used two punctuation marks at the end of a sentence. And… everything’s OK. The reader understood me, understood that the question carried a note of surprise, and most importantly, the English language didn’t collapse in on itself or explode in a blaze of punctuational pyrotechnics. That must mean that the inability to end a sentence with two punctuation marks isn’t a natural, grammatical rule (like “I have walked” versus “I have walk”), but instead, is an arbitrary, stylistic rule.

So, basically, the Interrobang was created because an arbitrary, stylistic rule has forbidden what most people normally do to indicate a surprised question, the “?!” cluster. They’ve broken the language by disallowing the existing punctuation system, then created this new mark to bandage the wound they created. Am I the only person who sees this whole process as more than a little ridiculous?

Keep in mind, though, I’m not against all attempts at expanding our system of punctuation. I think that the Irony Mark might come in handy from time to time, and a sarcasm mark would be very useful for online communications.

However, the Interrobang strikes me as a cute, interesting, but ultimately unnecessary bit of novel punctuation. The interrobang is only necessary if we accept one particular bit of nitpicky stylistic dogma. When you couple its questionable reason for existence with the relative difficulty of finding and inserting the symbol compared to the simple “?!” cluster, it’s no wonder to me that it hasn’t caught on.

That’s not to say, however, that the interrobang is without it’s fans, who need to be represented as well. After forwarding the article to a friend of mine online, she responded with excitement to the idea:

Make sure you talk about the convenience of only one dot. I know you may be against it, but you must talk about both sides and be fair. A dot may not seem like a lot of time to someone, especially if you are particularly crafty with a pen. BUT think about if you are hyperbole happy. All the time you will save over the years. It’s really staggering.

So, although the interrobang has a future amongst hyperbole-happy minimalists and time-savers, the fact of the matter is that for the majority of people, the interrobang is never going to fly. You’re welcome to interrobang your writing to your heart’s content, but just don’t be surprised when your proofreading friend hands you back your essay with a big red circle around your interrobang, and a small note, scribbled in the margins, reading “What the heck is this?!”.

Speak English, Your In America Now

We, the Legal American workers of the USA, need to stand together NOW, to keep English as our only native language.

Foreigners are saturating the USA & are slowly trying to modify our national language to include Spanish, so it will be easier for them to live & work in this country.

Qualified US citizens who need to support their families are being refused employment in their own country because they don’t speak Spanish. This is happening on a daily basis. The unemployment rate is up and the government offices are making suggestions that we learn Spanish so we can get jobs.

This is wrong & something needs to be done. If we do nothing, in 10 years we will all need to know Spanish and have to push 2 to hear it in English! Please help stop the madness before it goes any farther.

We can not allow any modification of our national language.

We need stronger laws which require resident & citizen applicants to learn English in order to live & work in the USA. If not, than these companies that deal with non speaking English patrons, need to hire an interpreter and pay them what the average interpreter makes. To force the “legal” US citizen to speak a new language is Discrimination based on language.

We need new laws created to protect the English speaking citizens of the USA from any discrimination (like employment, housing, etc.)
Amnesty should only be given if the parties are willing to learn English and help change their family members coming over or who are already here.
Petition to NOT modify our native language to include any foreign language
Petition for stronger laws requiring all residents & citizens to learn & speak English in order to live & work in the USA.
Petition for new laws protecting US citizens who are refused employment in the USA simply because they do nospeak a foreign language.
Petition for new laws protecting the English speaking citizens of the USA from any form of discrimination (employment, housing, etc.).
We would like to thank Verizon Wireless for taking the first steps in realizing that we shouldn’t have to push one for English, it should be a given.

If you agree, take a stand & sign the petition.

Painful grammatical errors

Here at LinguisticMystic, I do my best never to mock people for grammatical mistakes. I’ll certainly comment on them, and when they’re particularly funny, I’ll share a laugh. However, in general, I think that one’s ability to adhere to an arbitrary set of “rules” set out for us by the richest group of language users shouldn’t be a category of judgment.

As many of you likely noticed, the author of this post mixed up the 2nd person possessive (your) and the identical-sounding yet differently spelled contraction of “you are” (you’re). This is often a problem because, as I said, they sound identical when spoken aloud, but in writing, there’s a very large difference between the possessive (“I saw your mom”) and the contraction (“You’re a mom”).

Now, I’m not pointing this out to attack the author as a person, or suggest that she’s uneducated. Instead, I’m pointing it out because this is a wonderful example of one of the few times when having impeccable grammar IS relevant and necessary. In some contexts, a badly placed grammatical error can significantly injure an argument, and the author’s your/you’re mixup here is one of these examples.

This error occurred only two words into a rather lengthy rant about how terrible it is that people aren’t using English and how English is going downhill. This particular error in this particular context is a lot like somebody standing up to give a speech on animal rights while wearing a fur coat. If you’re going to give this speech, you need to prove that you’re a good person to trust on matters of the English language, and this simple little grammatical error threw that all away.

However, this particular error isn’t the only thing of linguistic interest in this rant.

Official English sillyness

I couldn’t help but chuckle a bit when the author said that “in 10 years, we’ll all need to know Spanish and push 2 to hear it in English”. This is unrealistic for a number of reasons, but not the least of which is the assumption that the tide could turn in 10 years, in either direction.

I consider myself to be nearly fluent in Spanish. I suspect that, if dropped in the middle of Mexico City, I could likely survive quite well, albeit with the normal crop of grammatical errors. I’ve never lived abroad, although I’ve traveled to Spanish speaking countries on a few occasions and worked in a number of Spanish speaking environments. I’ve gotten this degree of language mastery the American way, by learning the language in isolation in classrooms from a young age. How long did this take? Roughly 8 years of Spanish through Middle school, High school, and College.

Now, keep in mind, I adore grammar. I love it. I truly enjoyed these classes, and didn’t particularly slack. It’s just that, well, getting good with a language takes time. Sure, it could be shortened with immersion classes and living abroad, but I’d like to think I’ve had a pretty average language education.

For me and my flexible young brain, it took me eight years. Just imagine if a monolingual fifty year old was “forced” to learn Spanish. According to Wikipedia, around 82% of people in the US speak English only at home. Even if an evil Spanish-speaking conspiracy literally forced everybody in the country to learn Spanish, it’d likely be at least 10 or 15 years before most people could use it as a primary language.

However, that’s not going to happen. An 82% majority doesn’t just drop their native language without a gun to their heads, especially when it would require years of expensive and difficult schooling. Not to mention that English is probably the fastest growing language in the world, and it’s a prestige-language for many.

So, I’m quite tempted to say that the author here is appealing to the “defend the fatherland” attack-when-threatened instincts of the masses, rather than to any sort of logic. These fear based arguments are (sadly) pretty common these days, but to a linguist, this one is just plain silly.

When it comes to sillyness, though, there’s one statement that takes the cake.

Enjoy your cooked circles of Freedom-Flour

In her little petition, the author proposes one of the most ridiculous ideas that I’ve heard in a while:

Petition to NOT modify our native language to include any foreign language

Whoa there, Mrs. Official English. This is a bit of a tall order, as forbidding any further borrowing of words from other languages is a bit ridiculous. As I’ve discussed before, English is ripe with borrowings from Spanish, French, Latin, Greek, and even Arabic.

So, to categorically forbid the borrowing of new words into English from other languages would be inconvenient and juvenile. We’d be forced to come up with new words for all the items we might absorb from other cultures. Thus, rather than being able to simply use the word “tortilla” (from Spanish), we’d have to come up with a new word for it. Perhaps we could just use a compound word (“Thin flour-bread”). Maybe we could just make a new, English-sounding word for it. Or, maybe we can take a page from the US House of Representatives’ playbook and come up with a nice, jingoistic name for them. I suggest “cooked circles of Freedom-Flour”.

However, even if we were to start creating English words for everything, it really wouldn’t help what she’s afraid of. As Shakespeare points out, a rose by any other name will smell just as sweet, and no matter what you call a new idea or item from another culture, it’ll still affect our own culture. Sure, you’ll avoid having any foreign words, but if you’re still importing foreign items into our society, I suspect she’d still think our culture was “in danger”.

So, sure, you could try and bind the language (impossible) in such a way that it won’t absorb foreign words (unfortunate), but really, all you’d be doing is halting the progress of English, and weakening the language. Really, if this author succeeded, she’d probably just end up hurting English and making other, less hogtied languages seem more attractive.

Relax, Breathe. Your English is safe

I’ve used this quote several times before, and I’ll use it again: A language user trying to prevent language change is like a gardener trying to prevent continental drift. Every time these official English people stand up and yell, it becomes more apparent that it’s completely futile. English is going to do precisely what it’s going to do, and all the ranting and cute little laws in the world aren’t going to change that.

Even disregarding that futility, the fact remains that English isn’t going anywhere. Sure, more and more, it’ll be beneficial to be bilingual. Barring major wars, though, I don’t think there are any Native English speakers alive right now in the US who will have to completely switch to another language to survive here within their lifetime. Sure, English will change, but it’s not going away any time soon.

So, why do they keep arguing these points? Well, as I’ve said before, when people say nasty things about another language, it’s generally because they want to say nasty things about the people who use it, but are afraid to do so. I suspect that this too is another little bit of anti-immigrant or even racist sentiment that’s been dressed up in a little suit and clip-on tie and paraded around as a linguistic issue. Luckily, there are people who oppose it (notably including Senator John McCain and the Mayor of Nashville), and the proponents of these ideas remain on the fringe.

Next time you hear one of these people pop up yelling about saving English from those mean, nasty other languages, take a second to realize that it’s a really a linguistic non-issue. Make up your own mind on the subject, but just make sure that you rip off the false linguistic premises. Only once you’ve done that will you be completely aware of exactly what this sort of argument and mindset is supporting.

The grand blog continuum

On one end, we have the most personal of blogs. Comprised of random thoughts, stories, goings-on, and pictures, these blogs are primarily designed as a means of social communication with one’s friends and family. You can usually tell these because reading them is boring (if not downright painful) if you’re not intimately acquainted with the author. Perhaps the epitome (best example) of these sorts of blogs are the ones kept by many random people on LiveJournal or MySpace.

On the complete opposite end, we have blogs that are so heavily focused on providing useful content to the world that the authors themselves are largely overlooked. Never will you find a post dedicated simply to the wonderful day that the author had, and seldom will you even find a reference to the author’s personal life. Sometimes, these are even run by several authors collaboratively, and unless you look at the name of the poster, you often can’t even tell who’s writing them. Examples of blogs like this would be Lifehacker, Treehugger, and MacRumors.

It seems that, in terms of readership and popularity, the most successful blogs seem to be the ones putting content before personal information, because they appeal to the widest audience. If you think about it, some of the more well known blogs on the internet tend to be the more pragmatic and content-based blogs which have a very distinct theme and focus. After a while, these sorts of blogs start to build a library of sorts, with lots of content that somebody who has never heard of the author might still be interested in (and find, via google).

That’s not to say that there aren’t popular blogs where the author’s voice is both present and strong. One good example of this is DaringFireball, which has a great deal of content, but is also quite clearly John Gruber’s personal blog. He’s found a good balance between Gruber-trivia and widely relevant information, and his success shows that. What Would Tyler Durden Do? (not work safe) has a different approach to this balance. Although the content is mostly just gossip about celebrities, in addition to the content, the author of the site has a strong and distinctive voice in the posts, and his commentaries on the stories are often downright hilarious. Here, the author is clearly present in the content, but nonetheless, the blog isn’t about him.

So, there’s a grand continuum in the blog world, ranging from the most personal livejournal to the most informative megablog, and everybody fits in somewhere.

Where am I?

The reason I’ve gotten to thinking about all this is that recently, I’ve been asked to participate in a blog-meme that involves sharing information about oneself. Basically, participating bloggers are asked to list eight random facts about themselves, and then to pass the meme onto eight more people, much like the chain emails of old. What’s surprising to me, and the reason for this post, is that I was conflicted as to whether or not to participate.

Obviously, participating in this meme would be very much out of character for a blog like Lifehacker or Gizmodo. It’s a clearly author-centric exercise, and for a site where the author is de-emphasized, it would be awkward at best. However, for a Livejournal sort of blog, this sort of thing is their lifeblood.

That led me to wonder where, exactly, this site falls on the grand continuum. Although there are clearly posts which concentrate on me as a person, I try to make the majority of my posts very content-centered, although they may include my voice and opinions. My primary means of getting the word out about this site is through links from other people and from google, and I do my best to make the posts here relevant to people who don’t even know what linguistics is, let alone who I am.

Finally, I do have the rather obsessive desire to incorporate some discussion of language and linguistics into all of my posts, even the most mundane of site news. This obsession, and the awkwardness of posting simply personal information, makes me think that when all is added up, Notes from a Linguistic Mystic tends to lean more towards the content-centered side of the blogosphere.

Passing on the meme

So, I’ve decided that to just fill in eight random facts would be a bit contrary to the site’s nature. However, I’ve come up with a compromise. Here are my eight facts:

1. The pitch of my voice is usually between 90hz and 120hz, although it got at a bit lower (~70hz) with laryngitis. When the vocal folds are inflamed (the main effect of laryngitis), they vibrate more slowly, and thus, people’s voices sound lower.

2. When I was young and first learning to read, I pronounced the L’s in “walk” and “talk” for a time, even in everyday speech. This is called a “spelling pronunciation”, and they’re not uncommon. Many people will pronounce “caulk” differently from “cock” for this precise reason.

3. For me, the vowels in “caught” and “cot” are pronounced identically. This is the case for many speakers in the US. For more information, visit the Wikipedia page on this merger.

4. I can hear the difference between aspirated, unaspirated and voiced stops, but I have trouble reliably making unaspirated stops.

5. After a fair amount of practice, I can make and hear Ejective stops.

6. Violating a number of sociolinguistic and cultural rules, I referred to my parents only by their first names until first or second grade. The school psychologist had to explain to me that generally, “Mom” and “Dad” is more acceptable in our society, and that it made them sad when I called them by any other name.

7. Because I’ve suffered from a number of ear infections in the past and had a somewhat mysterious hearing impairment through the high school and a part of college, I currently have a tympanostomy tube (ear tube) in my right ear drum. Thus, when I’m on planes or driving in the mountains, my right ear doesn’t pop at all. Strangely enough, this surgery actually improved my hearing significantly, and helped me to distinguish sounds that I previously couldn’t.

8. The name “Linguistic Mystic” arose while working on a project regarding the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis. I was debating the idea with a friend in my group who was dead set against the idea that language affects thought. Frustrated that neither of us were changing the other’s mind, he said something along the lines of “You know what you are? You’re a damned Linguistic Mystic, trying to make language into some secret, mysterious force affecting our world.” I loved the expression then, slowly adopted it, and finally ended up making it the title of this site.

Naming the victims

So, there are my eight facts, modified to include a heavy dose of content and linguistic goodness. According to the Meme, I need to now post the rules and nominate a few other blogs.

These are the rules:

1. We have to post these rules before we give you the facts.
2. Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3. People who are tagged need to write in their own blog about their eight things and include these rules in the post.
4. At the end of your post, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
5. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

Here are the blogs I’ve chosen (I couldn’t find eight), in no particular order:

1. Mother Tongue Annoyances
2. Language Fragments
3. LinguLangu
4. Confessions of a Language Addict
5. Aspiring Polyglot (PS: Congrats on the Bloggers Choice nomination)

So, if you’re interested in participating, fellow bloggers, you’re welcome to. Feel free to put your own spin on things as I’ve done, or feel free to ignore this altogether.

Conclusion

Much like humans grow to have a certain preferred communication style in a given context, it seems that blogs tend to settle out into different styles. Just as it would seem unusual for a normally serious professor to come into class and start discussing a party he attended over the weekend, bloggers seem to have a good idea of what’s “proper” given their particular style, and seldom violate it.

(Unless, of course, a really good chain-letter goes around. Then, we get flexible.)

GREENWOOD VILLAGE – When Carole Altman opened her daughter’s yearbook from Belleview Elementary, she expected to see her message congratulating her daughter on completing the 5th grade. What she did not see is what angered her.

“What has been done here, in my opinion, is un-American,” Altman said.

The Parent-Teacher Community Organization at Belleview Elementary established a yearbook committee. The committee sent a letter to parents asking them to pay $5 to publish a message to congratulate their students. The letter stated the message will include “all of your wonderful words.”

Altman and her husband submitted this message: “So proud of you Remy for achieving fantastic grades, participating in so many wonderful after school activities and surviving so many of the Belleview teachers’ liberal teachings. You are what you believe you can be. Aim high, always. Love, Mom & Dad.”

“What was taken out was surviving the liberal teachings,” Altman said.

She wanted her daughter, years from now, to appreciate how well she did in school even though Altman felt teachers were biased.

“Despite all the liberal teachings and so forth, she’s come out with a good education,” said Altman.

Obligatory rant

First, I’d like to point out that this was in an elementary school yearbook. For those of you unfamiliar with the American education system, that means that the kids involved were probably in the 8-10 years old range.

The main subjects taught here are English, math, music, gym, and the basics, and I sincerely doubt that there’s much room for heavy bias. So, unless there were some seriously strange questions on math quizzes (“Bush leaves a Big Oil lobbyist’s office going 35mph…”), I’d be willing to bet that the parents are a bit hyper-sensitive here.

No matter what the teachers were doing, this seems like an incredibly asinine thing to put in an elementary school yearbook, and I’m more than a little shocked that there are people so politically hostile that they have to take cheap shots at teachers in an elementary school yearbook.

Alright. I feel better now. Sorry about that, now back to the Linguistics…

“No no, I clearly meant something else that nobody understood…”

Now, the Altmans’ cute little jab was removed because, surprise, the yearbook editors felt that the elementary school yearbook was “just not an appropriate forum for political statements.” That seems reasonable to me, but the Altmans just had to keep fighting it, and in doing so, they resorted to one of the most common-yet-reprehensible tricks in the publicist’s book: Redefining the definition.

Altman says it was not political.

“The word liberal means loose. We have to take what the definition of liberal means. I didn’t say Democrats,” she said.

Webster’s Dictionary defines liberal in part as “not orthodox.”

Altman says that is what she meant that teachers were not using established and structured teaching practices in her opinion.

“That’s not political unless the reason why they took it out was they put a political spin on it,” said Altman. “Since when is the word liberal or conservative always to mean political?”

District leaders still believe Altman’s motives were about politics.

So, basically, Altman is arguing that she didn’t mean “politically liberal”, but instead, “loose”, and thus, her statement was politically neutral.

Many meanings, one understanding

There are many words that have more than one meaning, and when talking or reading, we have to pick the right one from context.

Sometimes that’s pretty straightforward. If somebody says “The cock chased the hen around the shed”, nobody’s going to argue that “cock” is an obscenity, because the context makes it fairly explicit that we’re discussing a male chicken. Similarly, if somebody calls a gay man a “faggot”, that person would be hard pressed to argue that he meant that the man was a small bundle of twigs (the original meaning of “faggot”).

There are cases, though, where an argument could conceivably be made for both the controversial meaning and the innocent one. Giving the Altmans the benefit of the doubt, we’ll pretend that “liberal teachings” was actually meant to mean “unorthodox”.

The problem, though, is that when something’s ambiguous, people will tend to assume the worst. Even if a farmer is standing next to a donkey when he says it, “kiss my ass” will likely be seen as insulting. Most importantly, even if the teachings at Belleview were unorthodox and the Altmans were just innocently pointing that out, people will see it as a political statement. There’s still the possibility that somebody could be using the “unorthodox”, politically neutral meaning, but in general, “liberal” is now a political term, and when people specifically mean “unorthodox”, they’ll say that instead.

When a statement is made, the speaker will have an idea about what they meant to say. That’s not really the most important part, though. In order for the communication to work, the listener has to understand as well, and there’s no guarantee that they’ll read the same meanings from the same words. If you’re going to use a common word in an uncommon way, it’s your responsibility to communicate that somehow. If you choose not to, you’ve waived your right to complain when somebody “misunderstands” you. Sorry, Mrs. Altman.

A common deception

Mrs. Altman is not alone in using this pretty transparent defense. Many people will go back to antiquated, obscure or alternate definitions of words when their remarks come back to bite them, claiming their words were innocent and without controversy. One particularly shameless example of this came from Elizabeth Hoffman, the former President of the University of Colorado at Boulder.

During a well-publicized case of sexual discrimination filed by a female ex-member of the school’s football team, Hoffman argued that when a football player told the girl to “get off the field, you f***ing cunt”, “cunt” was being used as a term of endearment. (link) Hoffman attempted to play it off using her background in Medieval studies, claiming that in Chaucer’s days, it wasn’t a negative term. Of course, this enraged a number of faculty members both because of the implications, her defense of the indefensible, and her psuedo-scholarly explanation. She was replaced not long afterwards, and although the football team and coaches never really faced appropriate justice, there’s at least a great deal more sensitivity in campus athletics because of it.

No matter your feelings on her specific case, this is another situation where somebody has tried to disguise their intent by playing off of unusual or old definitions.

It can be innocent, but usually they’re just covering their backs

Sometimes, especially with non-native speakers, mistakes like this can happen innocently. Somebody uses a word without the knowledge of its other connotations, and gets burned by a hyper-sensitive reader, listener, or even worse, the media. In that situation, it’s not only understandable, it’s completely forgivable.

However, when somebody uses a word, knowing full well how it’s usually used, then later hides behind strange, antiquated or unusual definitions to defend themselves, it’s generally just a sleazy and ineffective publicity trick.

So, Mrs. Altman, I might recommend that you look into getting a publicist. If you’re firing off gems like this and your child is still that young, it sounds like you’ll have a lot of controversial comments to distance yourself from in the future. It’s your right to say them, but if you’re going to try and hide from them afterwards, you’re going to need to do better than this.

Barely false advertising

Being the nerd I am, I do my best to stay connected when I’m on the road. I try and pick hotels that have internet available. According to AAA (and all the hotel’s posted information), Best Western Ruby’s Inn offers “High Speed Internet Access” and “Complimentary Wireless Internet”.

Both of these statements are true, technically. Best Western Ruby’s Inn (repeated for Google) does, in fact, have Wireless Internet, and I was able to pick up their signal without any trouble, and at full strength. However, unlike other hotels, the wireless speeds are around 1 kilobyte per second to non-existent (loading my mail took around 5 minutes, and even then was unreliable). Of course, I anticipated less-than-superb speeds if they had to use a satellite connection, seeing as they’re out in the middle of Utah, but still, I expected some degree of usability.

So, I went across the way to the front desk to ask if I was doing something wrong. I explained my problem to the manager, and he informed me that the wireless system is, regrettably, “a bit slow” and that there wasn’t anything he could do. However, he eagerly pointed out that the High Speed Internet terminals in the lobby would have no such connection speed issues. What he failed to mention is that those High Speed Internet terminals (listed simply as “Eight Internet Kiosks” on their site) cost 50 cents per minute to use. (EDIT: According to their manager, the cost is 20 cents per minute. I was misinformed.)

At every other Best Western we visited, “Free Wireless Internet” and “High Speed Internet” refer to one and the same service. However, Best Western Ruby’s Inn has redefined those terms, separating them, so that they can still offer what they’ve promised, but still gouge the guests for 50 cents a minute.

If you bought a car based on an ad saying “Used Car, New Engine”, then they proceeded to hand you a gutted Camry and a factory sealed engine for a lawnmower, you’d likely sue. They’re not lying, per se, but they’re certainly not being honest. By changing the meaning of the hotel catch phrase “Free Wireless and High Speed Internet”, they’re off the hook for false advertising. If it were just the internet situation, I’d be more willing to cut them some slack. However, they don’t stop there with their creative redefinition of usual terms.

We meant REALLY local calls

On the little laminated sheet next to each phone, they discuss the rates for different sorts of calls. It clearly states that long distance calls cost an arm, International costs both arms and a leg. However, it proudly proclaims that local calls are completely free.

When my girlfriend and I realized that we didn’t want to stay the planned three nights (their $16 per person buffet and $9 microwaved mozzarella sticks didn’t thrill us), we decided to try and find another hotel in the area. We called a Best Western (which didn’t have an 800 number) in the same area code and general region and made some reservations, figuring that it was a local call. One call, maybe 4 minutes, total.

The next morning, at checkout, the young lady at the desk informed me that I made $6 worth of phone calls. I explained that they were local calls, and that the charge was made in error. She then informed me that “local” refers to calls made to any room or building at the Best Western Ruby’s Inn complex, not to any outside numbers. Outside numbers are billed at $1.50 a minute, apparently, even to nearby hotels in the same chain, same region, and same area code.

Then, the sheer sleazyness of it hit: They redefined “local” so they could charge us more. Note, this wasn’t on the sheet. There wasn’t a “Ruby’s Inn Rate” and a “Far-Local” rate. Just “Local Calls are complimentary”. This is like a hotel boasting about “nearby parking”, and then explaining to customers that there’s a small plot of land that the hotel owns next to the lot, 10 miles away, so technically, the lot is right near the hotel’s land. Once again, they’ve changed the meaning of a word to hide a rather exorbitant charge.

Dishonest honesty

Unfortunately, there’s not much one can do about this sort of thing. They’re never actually lying to you, they’re just redefining terms in the language so that they can sound like a good, honest, and benevolent hotel, while still operating like a Tourist Trap.

They might not get many return customers this way, but they figure that once you’re there, you’re trapped. By the time you’ve seen through their deceptive phrasings, you’re 15 miles away from the nearest motel, likely already moved in, and probably exhausted, so you’re not going to find a better place. If you’re not careful, you’ll go to check out and be billed exorbitantly, but it’s after the service was rendered, so you’re pretty much stuck paying.

Lessons to learn

So, from this tirade, what should you take away?

1) Visit Bryce Canyon National Park (and Zion National Park) if you ever get the chance. They’re truly beautiful places, and worth every cent of the trip to get there.

2) Best Western Ruby’s Inn, near Bryce Canyon National Park, is a tourist trap. They will lure you in and sound wonderful, but once you’re checked in, they’ll do their best to charge you as much as legally possible. Between deceptive tactics like those above, hidden charges (nearly 20% tax on the room) (EDIT: According to the Manager’s response, the room tax is 11%. I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt and assuming my memory was in error), and the exorbitantly priced goods in the diner and grocery (often your only option), your room and board can easily jump up by half or more.

3) If you’re going to the area, I highly recommend commuting from the Best Western East Zion Thunderbird Lodge instead. From here, you can get to Bryce in around 1.5 hours, and Zion within 30 minutes, and the room rates were half of what Ruby’s charged, for equivalent (or nicer) rooms. They also offered actual high-speed wireless and free local calls, without any deception. This hotel is as good as Ruby’s was bad.

4) Ask for definitions. When you call for reservations at a hotel which smells tourist-trappy, ask if the free wireless is high speed. Ask what local means. Ask what “reasonably priced” means in the context of their restaurant. They can’t lie to you if you ask directly, and their power over your checkbook lies in your assumptions about the English language.

5) To the proprietors of Ruby’s Inn: Remember, language works both ways. You used it to distort the truth about your hotel, now I’m using it to bring some clarity to your practices. Hopefully some of your future customers will google you, read this, and decide to find another hotel based on this post.

Live by the word, die by the word.

EDIT: The manager of Best Western Ruby’s Inn has commented on this thread and refuted some of my points here. I encourage you to read the comments thread to hear both sides of the matter.

In extreme Southwestern part of Colorado (in the Four Corners region), there’s a smallish city named Cortez, Colorado. The city is named after Hernán Cortés, the Spanish conquistador who began the Spanish Colonization of the Americas.

The truly beautiful part of it all is that Cortez is the seat of Montezuma County. Montezuma County is named after Moctezuma II, the Aztec emperor at the time of the Spanish Conquest of Mexico, who met with Cortés, and who was eventually killed due to the actions of the Spanish. The actions of Cortés (and his men) destroyed Moctezuma, ended the Aztec empire, and marked the start of Colonialization of the Americas.

Maybe locals are aware of this irony, maybe they’re not. Perhaps nobody made the connection when naming the area, or maybe Cortez was named long before Montezuma County came into existence. Who knows, maybe the county was named to offset the honor given to Cortez. No matter what, I find it to be a sick sort of funny that Cortez presides over Montezuma even today.

I came into Linguistics without a real direction, specialty or desire. Truthfully, it was more fate than anything that found me here. Today, I’d like to discuss a little bit of how I found Phonetics, why I love it, and why you might love it too.

Linguistics and Fate

When I started college, I was a Russian language major. I took a year worth of Russian language and culture classes, but I rapidly realized that their teaching style was going to kill me. A “Non-Grammatical Approach” to teaching grammar strikes me as about as effective as a “Non-Driving Approach” to Driver’s Ed, and the Russian department’s adherence to it was driving me crazy. As it worked out, I should probably be sending “Thank you” notes to the people whose terrible textbooks drove me from the department, as their failings brought me to my true passion.

The fall of my Sophomore year, I enrolled in Linguistics 2000, “Introduction to Linguistics”, just out of curiosity. I didn’t know what Linguistics was, but I decided to take it anyways, chalking it up to “College is a time for experimentation”. Well, it grabbed me. Hard.

By midterms, I had added Linguistics as a second major. By finals, I was feeling liberated. By the start of the next semester, I had dropped the Russian major (studying the language on my own instead), and l leaped off into the Linguistic Unknown. I’ve never made a better decision in my life.

Phinding Phonetics

In my intro to Linguistics classes, we touched on all the different fields of Linguistics, but only barely so. We spent a day or two looking at slides of the various IPA characters, briefly discussed the fact that English has around 10 more vowels than everybody thinks we do, and then moved on to the next field.

However, Phonetics really reached out and grabbed me. Phonetics, simply put, is the study of sounds in language, and can involve how we make sounds, how we hear them, and even how sound waves transmit information. I picked up a book, started studying the IPA, and used it in my other side projects (mostly in language creation). As soon as I could, I enrolled in the actual undergrad phonetics course, learning more and more about Phonetics, and at that point, I realized I could no longer deny my love for the sounds of language. I found myself making more and more clicks, glides, and trills, even in bed as I was going to sleep, and sometimes, I found the sounds of speech more interesting than what people were actually saying. Last year, I took the Master’s level Phonetics course offered by my school, and it sealed the deal: I love Phonetics.

I want to share the gospel of speech production; I want to show people that speech is more than just an everyday occurrence, and I want people to know that the alveolar tap in “later” can be just as graceful and precise as any figure skater’s finest trick. I’m passionate about Phonetics, and I think it’s genuinely important. Let me try and explain why.

What do speech sounds have to do with invisible aliens?

All linguists need some background in Phonetics, even if they don’t find it as interesting as I do. I remember that in my undergrad phonetics class, a lot of people really didn’t like it, and even though they wanted to be linguists, they didn’t understand why. Well, I’m going to try and explain why you need Phonetics. Let’s use a metaphor here:

We’ve likely all seen bad Sci-Fi action movies. More specifically, you’ve probably seen a movie where they have to deal with an invisible enemy. Sometimes it’s a guy in an invisibility suit, sometimes it’s a killer alien, sometimes it’s a stealth ship. No matter what, they always lose three or four expendable characters to some invisible menace before they wise up to what’s going on.

Now, imagine you’re writing a grammar of a language that’s never been described before, but you’ve never really had any phonetics training. You’re making good progress, analyzing the structures, translating words, and figuring out what the speaker is doing. Then suddenly, disaster strikes. You’re stuck with these two (made-up) sentences:

1. nalo bi (meaning “He saw the shrimp”)
2. nalo bi (meaning “He saw the necklace”)

You’ve checked and rechecked your data, but every time you ask the speaker to say those two sentences, he or she tells you the same thing. You’ve checked with other speakers to make sure it’s not a context thing, and when you repeat them back, you’re either “mispronouncing it”, or their translation varies. At this point, you’ve got the Linguistic equivalent of an invisible alien attacking your grammar.

In our bad Sci-Fi movie, what usually happens once they figure out that the invisible aliens are, forgiving the internet meme, in their base, eatin’ their doodz? Well, the nerdy guy in the basement workshop rigs up a set of (ultraviolet/thermal/spectral/force)-imaging goggles, which let you see the aliens clear as day. Then, they all go outside with their spiffy goggles, kill the aliens, get the parts for their ship, and get back to Earth. In bad movies, all you need to do to defeat an invisible alien is to learn how to detect it.

So, you’re still stuck staring at the “nalo bi” issue in your language. To you, these words sound almost exactly alike, but to the speakers, they’re obviously different. This is where Phonetics training comes in handy.

Phonetics: Invisible alien killer extraordinaire

You see, when we’re very, very young (less than a year), we can hear the differences between all of the different speech sounds in the world (a search for “Infant Phonetic Inventory” will put you on the right track to learn more). However, we’re all raised with a language, and after a while, we learn to subconsciously throw out the sounds that don’t matter in our language. In English, we rapidly stop caring whether our vocal folds are closed or open when we start a word (this is important in the Samoan language), and when people make an “n” further back in their mouths at the start of a word, our brain just turns it into a plain, alveolar “n”.

This is just fine for a monolingual English speaker, but when we get out into the field or study another language, it can cause us to stop seeing invisible aliens. People could be making two distinct sounds, but because they’re not present in our language, we won’t hear them.

You go get some Phonetics training. You learn about how different sounds are made. You listen to recordings and tapes of other languages to sensitize our ears. We study how sounds interact, and how to produce them. We get our ears, our mouths, and our brains to open up and hear the world not as English speakers, but as linguists.

Then, you go back to our invisible alien. They say the first phrase, you hear “nalo bi”, like before. They say the second one, and suddenly, you hear the difference. It’s not “nalo bi”, it’s “ŋalo bi”! The tongue is further back in the mouth, where our K is, and you’ve just been mishearing. You say it back, using your new skill at making the velar nasal (ŋ) at the start of a word, and they understand you. Through the magic of phonetics, you not only see the invisible alien, but you understand it, and can live in harmony with it.

See? Phonetics is phun!

Phonetics is really vital for anybody learning linguistics (or, to a lesser extent, learning languages of the world). We’re raised with one specific sound system, and it bends our mind. The study of phonetics can help free our mind, and let you see the complexity, beauty, and grace of the sounds of language that you’ve been conditioned to forget.

It’s a wonderful field not only because of the subject matter, but because it’s constantly applicable. A particle physicist can only do their work with million-dollar machines in labs. An engineer needs tools and computers to do their work. For a linguist or phonetician to work, all we need are ears, a brain, and language. We’ve always got our ears and our brain, and there’s nothing more omnipresent in human existence than language.

So, if you need a new hobby that lets you work from anywhere, enjoy the beauty in small things, and even catch invisible aliens, Phonetics is for you.

If you’d like resources in getting started, shoot me an email, or just go to your local linguistics department. A word of caution, though: mentioning invisible aliens probably won’t look too good on your application. We like creative people, but.. yeah…

This morning, as usual, I rolled out of bed to my computer and checked my RSS feeds. In doing so, this quote from a professor, taken from Sally Thomason’s latest post on the Language Log jumped out at me. Actually, that’s not true, it sprung into my heart, soothing my harrowed soul and putting as much of a smile as it could on my still-slumbering face. Here’s a bit of it:

…

I always emphasize that it’s not so much right and wrong, that people speak differently everywhere, but that there’s a certain amount of snobbery in knowing “standard usage” and adhering to it, like it’s a password that says, “I know the code, I have learned the secrets of this society of academics/lawyers/receptionists and can be trusted to behave appropriately.” I tell them they HAVE to learn it and know when to use it unless they want to shoot themselves in the foot on resumes and applications, but they don’t have to believe it’s God’s Preferred Way of Speaking English.

I’ve had more than one student come up to me after an ACT class and say, “You’re the first English teacher I’ve had who didn’t tell me my mother spoke like an uneducated hick,” or “This is the first time anyone’s explained why standard usage is important.”

It’s sad that pointless prescriptivism may keep these kids from top schools. But that’s why we absolutely HAVE to teach it to them, so they’re not fighting an uphill battle on the language front. They’re already at a disadvantage without the money, resources, and connections wealthy suburban Chicago students have in spades. It would be brutal not to teach them the “code” they need to pass the gatekeepers.

Laura Petelle (the author of this excerpt), you are, officially, my hero-of-the-day for February 9th, 2007. This all DESPERATELY needed to be said, and it sounds like you’re saying it, not just to Language Log, but the people for whom it counts.

Standard usage is just that, a standard of usage, but that term can be deceiving. Just because a language (or a dialect) is not the same as the accepted standard doesn’t mean it’s “sub-standard” or “uneducated”. Every dialect is grammatical, meaning that it conforms to its own specific grammar (and usually more frequently than the speech of those trying to use a “standard dialect”, and there are no “better” or “worse” dialects than any others. “Non-Standard” does not mean “sub-standard”, and I applaud Laura for teaching that.

Sadly, she’s right. Knowing the “whom”‘s of the standard dialect (of any language) can be seen as a showing of one’s social status, and a person who’s never been taught those sorts of things will be at a disadvantage due to a charming little set of social stigmas based on language use. So, as she says, we have to teach people the rules, but also let them know that it’s okay to ignore them at home. Just because I need to wear a tie to go to a wedding, doesn’t mean I should wear it at home while watching a movie. “Standard Usage” is a sociolinguistic tool, and although we need to know it, we don’t need to worship it.

So, Laura, if you’re out there reading this, you have my highest respects, and if you’re ever in the area, I’ll buy you a smoothie if you post your above comments outside the English department.

Don’t worry, though, they’re just across the courtyard from Linguistics. We’d have your back.

Literary language is superior to the spoken language. Student’s studies are limited with target language’s fine arts and literature.

Now, you must realize that saying “language X is better than language Y” is a truly heinous offense to me, and every time somebody says something like it, an angel’s lexicon loses a word.

No languages are better, “more complete”, “less complex”, or otherwise elevated above any other languages. Hold on, I’ll say that again. No languages are better, “more complete”, “less complex”, or otherwise elevated above any other languages.

Seriously. For a language to be used by a native speaker, it literally MUST be complete, in such a way that anything which needs to be expressed, can be expressed through some means. Even in the case of a pidgin (a newly-formed language created from elements of two or more other languages), when the first group of children are raised speaking only that language, they will fill in any holes in the grammar and make the language so it’s able to express anything one would need to. When a person is raised speaking a language, dialect, or sociolect, you can nearly guarantee that they’re speaking a fully functional language/dialect/sociolect.

Now, that’s not to say that there aren’t differences between the languages, and that some languages might not be easier in some areas. For instance, Russian has a nice, simple writing system, which is nearly phonetic (every letter represents the same sound, every time), but it has a very complex system of marking aspect (completion of an action). Similarly, Nuuchahnulth (Nootka) has a very nice way of ordering words and particles (morphemes) in a sentence, but the sound system is, to this English speaker, incredibly difficult and complex. Similarly, a language of South America might have more efficient words for describing rain, whereas another language might be more adept at snow description. However, different doesn’t mean anything is necessarily any better or worse.

So, this brings me to my final point: When people say nasty things about a language or dialect, they’re really saying nasty things about the people who use it. Mind you, I’m not talking about “language X has a complex sound system”, I’m talking about “language X is inferior to language Y”. No linguist worth his or her salt will ever tell you that a given language or dialect is “better” or “worse” than any other. That’s a social judgment, and it has nothing to do with the actual language or dialect. It really only shows the feelings of the speaker about the language’s users, and generally, it’s pseudo-intellectual snobbery.

Remember, any time you hear somebody disrespecting a language or dialect, it’s one of two things. Either the person talking really doesn’t know what they’re talking about, or they’re knocking the language because they’re not willing to knock the people who speak it. Sometimes it’s both. Either way, at that point, it’s best to drop the Linguistics knowledge, put away the reference grammar, and grab yourself a raincoat, because although it might sound like actual intellectual discussion, they’re really just throwing mud on the playground.