Good morning, children. Let us begin by stipulating that no one enjoys paying taxes.
[surly voice from Montana]
Indeed, and that is why the point is being stipulated. We will not waste time in further discussion. Let us also stipulate that a popular topic of conversation in this country is the suspicion that tax revenues are unfairly collected. Mr. X, for example, may feel that he is overtaxed and that Ms. Y is undertaxed. Ms. Y's opinion may well be that Mr. X does not pay nearly enough in taxes. These differences of opinion have existed since the felicitous concept of raising funds by taxing citizens first occurred to Zog, the chieftain of the Cave People.
[voice from Missouri, showing faint spark of interest]
Yes, we will refer to Zog as Mr. Z if you like. Again, this concept is stipulated, and we will not discuss the tax issues of Mr. X, Ms. Y, and Mr. Z, nor will we enter into an evaluation of the tax code ourselves.
The topic today is not the fairness or unfairness of the current tax code. As always, our topic is a linguistic one: the definition of the word hero.
[drowsy voice from California]
No, we will not be screening The Dark Knight. However, if you feel that this film will help you elucidate the definition of hero, you may allude to it. Please give me a definition of the word.
[several voices]
Quiet, please. You may not use the word like in your definition.
[voice from Connecticut]
I do not dispute that Dr. King was a hero, but that is an example, not a definition.
[voice from South Carolina]
I am not familiar with the achievements of Green Lantern, but again, this is an example. Very well, open your dictionaries to the word hero. Please note that we can trace the word through Latin to Greek to the Proto-Indo-European base *ser.
[surly voice from Montana]
Certainly I am aware of the difference between s and h. If you have completed the assigned reading on sound shifts from Proto-Indo-European, you are aware of their relationship. I will not waste class time by reading your assignment aloud to you.
We see, then that the word hero is etymologically related to the word serve. Perhaps you can now explain the relationship of these words by alluding to the accomplishments of Dr. King, or, if you wish, Green Lantern.
[voices from Connecticut and South Carolina]
Thank you. Now let us narrow the discussion somewhat by connecting the term hero to the stipulated points regarding taxes. Please explain what the role of a hero would be in relationship to taxes.
[surly voice from Montana]
I see. And how would the abolition of all taxes serve the citizens? Is there any way in which taxes benefit citizens of a country or community?
[several voices]
Thank you. You have mentioned public education, the creation and maintenance of roads and bridges, police and fire protection, the tracking of epidemics (an interesting point), enforcement of the recall of defective products (with a rather bitter reference to Toyota), unemployment benefits, Social Security, and a few more. Now, you from Montana, are you suggesting that the abolition of taxes and therefore the abolition of these and other services, would result in better lives for the citizens?
[surly voice from Montana, interrupted by various other voices, particularly from South Carolina and Philadelphia]
I see. You wish to abolish all taxes that do not directly benefit the individual taxpayer, then. Your example is a common one: those who do not have school-age children should not pay taxes that provide public schools. Let us examine that theory carefully, since it is so often brought forward as an argument. Can we agree that taxing all citizens, regardless of the existence of progeny, provides more money for public schools in the community? Can we also agree that, since school systems must pay salaries and utility bills and provide supplies such as books and laboratory equipment, that larger amounts of money would make available a more comfortable environment, more and better supplies and possibly more highly qualified staff? What would the logical outcome be?
[voice from Missouri]
You feel, then, that more money can provide a better education? Do you have any actual evidence for this opinion?
[voice from Missouri, citing correlation between per-household income and school rankings as shown in U.S. News and World Report]
Thank you very much. I am pleased that you have researched the topic. Now that we have established the fact that wealthier school districts do, in general, provide better education, let us return to the question of cui bono -- who benefits?
[voice from Missouri]
An interesting theory, and one that will be discussed further. Your short essay topic for tonight is "In what way might an educated population benefit society as a whole?" Let us return for the moment, though, to the principles of our friend from Montana. He has somewhat modified his proposal to abolish all taxes to abolishing only those that do not directly benefit the individual taxpayer.
[several voices]
One at a time, please. Yes, from South Carolina -- and please do not mention Green Lantern.
[voice from South Carolina]
Do I understand you to say that it is not possible to determine cui bono in the case of taxes? Or that, in fact, nemini bono, no one benefits from the abolition of taxes?
[surly voice from Montana]
As we stipulated at the outset, we will not enter into the diversion of tax expenditures that seem inappropriate to you, so we will not discuss academic studies of fruit flies or teapot museum funding. As a matter of fact, I am quite fond of teapots, but that is neither here nor there.
Your weekly essay assignment is the following: "Can someone who advocates or uses violence to protest taxation be a hero?" Please be sure that you support your thesis with facts and examples. Essays are due on Friday, February 26.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
A Scourge on Them!
Good morning, and I trust that all of your essays have been emailed as required. I will begin reading them today.
[faint voice from somewhere in Nebraska]
How sad for you that your computer crashed again. Ten points off for late work.
Today we are going to discuss the pronunciation of certain words, rather than their usage or etymology. You know, of course, that pronunciations change over time. A recent example is the word harass which was, in my youth, pronounced with the stress on the first syllable. Since the word is connected etymologically with the verbs harry and harrow, this makes sense. Today, however, possibly owing to protests from people named Harris, the preferred pronunciation stresses the second syllable. I find this somewhat interesting, but not terribly significant, since harass today has a fairly limited legal and political meaning.
[faint voice from somewhere in the nation's capital]
No, I am not using that statement as a means to harass you.
Of more concern is a group of words that seem to have become the victims of what I call "ignorant snob over-correction syndrome." This syndrome leads those with inadequate understanding of language to pronounce words in an artificially "correct" manner: sounding the t in often is an example.
[faint voice from somewhere in New Hampshire]
No, the t in often is silent.
[repeated voice from New Hampshire]
Yes, my congressman also pronounces it that way. He is incorrect.
[repeated voice from New Hampshire, with some insistence]
There are many silent letters in English. I do not pretend that English is a phonetically spelled language. That does not, however, give one free rein to pronounce words as illogically as they are spelled.
[repeated voice from New Hampshire]
That is quite enough from you in New Hampshire.
In any event, our lesson today is on neither harass nor often but on the words nourish, flourish, scourge, and courage. In each of these words, the our is pronounced the same way, more or less the same as the er in merge. While this would be impossible in say, French or Spanish, I remind you again that English is not written phonetically; hence, the words purge, merge, dirge, and scourge rhyme.
[faint voice from somewhere in Indiana]
Yes, I am quite serious.
[voice from Indiana again]
I assure you that we will eventually discuss the reasons for the illogical spelling of English, but if you protest that your language is "unfair," you are not yet ready to study it with any hope of comprehension.
To return to the pronunciation shift that concerns me, I have recently, and often (please note that I did not pronounce the t in that word) heard scourge pronounced with the our to rhyme with four. I have no explanation for this except the previously mentioned "ignorant snob over-correction syndrome." This errant pronunciation, I'm sorry to say, has been heard on local television news programs. My inference is that many newscasters are hired more for their physical than their intellectual characteristics. It is true that scourge is an infrequently used word in English and perhaps someone like Boopsie Ballard of Channel 9 has not previously encountered it. If that is the case, she should study her copy more carefully before the broadcast and, when necessary, make inquiries about unfamiliar vocabulary. The word flourish has also undergone this pronunciation shift, resulting in a word that sounds as if it should mean "having the characteristics of a floor." The shift is creeping into the much more familiar word nourish and, although I have yet to hear it applied to courage, I fear that it is only a matter of time.
Since we have already learned that language is in a constant state of flux, why should this change of pronunciation be of any concern? At what point does a particular pronunciation stop being designated "incorrect" and become acceptable, as it did with harass? Finally, whose pronunciation is to be emulated; that is, am I a more reliable authority than Boopsie Ballard?
[faint voice from somewhere in Iowa]
No, I am not going to answer those questions. That is your next essay assignment which will be due next Wednesday.
[faint voice from somewhere in Nebraska]
How sad for you that your computer crashed again. Ten points off for late work.
Today we are going to discuss the pronunciation of certain words, rather than their usage or etymology. You know, of course, that pronunciations change over time. A recent example is the word harass which was, in my youth, pronounced with the stress on the first syllable. Since the word is connected etymologically with the verbs harry and harrow, this makes sense. Today, however, possibly owing to protests from people named Harris, the preferred pronunciation stresses the second syllable. I find this somewhat interesting, but not terribly significant, since harass today has a fairly limited legal and political meaning.
[faint voice from somewhere in the nation's capital]
No, I am not using that statement as a means to harass you.
Of more concern is a group of words that seem to have become the victims of what I call "ignorant snob over-correction syndrome." This syndrome leads those with inadequate understanding of language to pronounce words in an artificially "correct" manner: sounding the t in often is an example.
[faint voice from somewhere in New Hampshire]
No, the t in often is silent.
[repeated voice from New Hampshire]
Yes, my congressman also pronounces it that way. He is incorrect.
[repeated voice from New Hampshire, with some insistence]
There are many silent letters in English. I do not pretend that English is a phonetically spelled language. That does not, however, give one free rein to pronounce words as illogically as they are spelled.
[repeated voice from New Hampshire]
That is quite enough from you in New Hampshire.
In any event, our lesson today is on neither harass nor often but on the words nourish, flourish, scourge, and courage. In each of these words, the our is pronounced the same way, more or less the same as the er in merge. While this would be impossible in say, French or Spanish, I remind you again that English is not written phonetically; hence, the words purge, merge, dirge, and scourge rhyme.
[faint voice from somewhere in Indiana]
Yes, I am quite serious.
[voice from Indiana again]
I assure you that we will eventually discuss the reasons for the illogical spelling of English, but if you protest that your language is "unfair," you are not yet ready to study it with any hope of comprehension.
To return to the pronunciation shift that concerns me, I have recently, and often (please note that I did not pronounce the t in that word) heard scourge pronounced with the our to rhyme with four. I have no explanation for this except the previously mentioned "ignorant snob over-correction syndrome." This errant pronunciation, I'm sorry to say, has been heard on local television news programs. My inference is that many newscasters are hired more for their physical than their intellectual characteristics. It is true that scourge is an infrequently used word in English and perhaps someone like Boopsie Ballard of Channel 9 has not previously encountered it. If that is the case, she should study her copy more carefully before the broadcast and, when necessary, make inquiries about unfamiliar vocabulary. The word flourish has also undergone this pronunciation shift, resulting in a word that sounds as if it should mean "having the characteristics of a floor." The shift is creeping into the much more familiar word nourish and, although I have yet to hear it applied to courage, I fear that it is only a matter of time.
Since we have already learned that language is in a constant state of flux, why should this change of pronunciation be of any concern? At what point does a particular pronunciation stop being designated "incorrect" and become acceptable, as it did with harass? Finally, whose pronunciation is to be emulated; that is, am I a more reliable authority than Boopsie Ballard?
[faint voice from somewhere in Iowa]
No, I am not going to answer those questions. That is your next essay assignment which will be due next Wednesday.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
No Longer Suffering in Silence
Good morning, children. Today's word is suffer.
[faint voice from somewhere in Oregon]
No, that is not a threat regarding today's activities, although I must say that the work I received on the distinction between uninterested and disinterested was rather poor.
By the thirteenth century, the word suffer was used to mean both endure and allow. You can, then, suffer pain or humiliation, but buried somewhere deep in the history of the word is the connotation that you are allowing the pain to hurt you. The permission connotation is more familiar to us in the word suffrage — universal suffrage, women's suffrage, etc. — a term which, I hope, brings little pain in a democracy.
[faint voice from somewhere in Arizona]
No, I am not familiar with the proposal regarding "illegal-alien suffrage."
Not too long ago, I heard a pastor unfamiliar with 17th century usage (i.e., the King James version of the Bible) say that Jesus told us that we should bring our children to him, even if we had to suffer to do so. A worthy sentiment, and certainly a sincere one, but unfortunately not an accurate rendering of "Suffer the little children to come unto me" (Matthew 19:14, Mark 10:14, Luke 18:16 ). The pastor's linguistic error is unlikely to do any harm to his congregation, but I use it here as an example of the need to understand the language you speak. If you remember the hue and cry over a public official's use of the word niggardly (a word completely unrelated to the ethnic slur with a similar sound) ten years ago, you know where a lack of understanding can lead.
[faint voice from somewhere in New Jersey]
No, I am not trying to insult you [heavy sigh]. You do not seem to be paying attention this morning.
Tonight's homework: five original and reasonably literate sentences using the words suffer and suffrage (each word at least twice) correctly. For you in New Jersey, five additional sentences using the word niggardly.
Your writing topic for the essay due next Wednesday will in part test your understanding of the words disinterested, uninterested, suffer, and suffrage. Your essay question is "Do citizens of a democracy have a moral or a civil obligation to alleviate the suffering of fellow citizens?"
[faint voice from somewhere in Oregon]
No, that is not a threat regarding today's activities, although I must say that the work I received on the distinction between uninterested and disinterested was rather poor.
By the thirteenth century, the word suffer was used to mean both endure and allow. You can, then, suffer pain or humiliation, but buried somewhere deep in the history of the word is the connotation that you are allowing the pain to hurt you. The permission connotation is more familiar to us in the word suffrage — universal suffrage, women's suffrage, etc. — a term which, I hope, brings little pain in a democracy.
[faint voice from somewhere in Arizona]
No, I am not familiar with the proposal regarding "illegal-alien suffrage."
Not too long ago, I heard a pastor unfamiliar with 17th century usage (i.e., the King James version of the Bible) say that Jesus told us that we should bring our children to him, even if we had to suffer to do so. A worthy sentiment, and certainly a sincere one, but unfortunately not an accurate rendering of "Suffer the little children to come unto me" (Matthew 19:14, Mark 10:14, Luke 18:16 ). The pastor's linguistic error is unlikely to do any harm to his congregation, but I use it here as an example of the need to understand the language you speak. If you remember the hue and cry over a public official's use of the word niggardly (a word completely unrelated to the ethnic slur with a similar sound) ten years ago, you know where a lack of understanding can lead.
[faint voice from somewhere in New Jersey]
No, I am not trying to insult you [heavy sigh]. You do not seem to be paying attention this morning.
Tonight's homework: five original and reasonably literate sentences using the words suffer and suffrage (each word at least twice) correctly. For you in New Jersey, five additional sentences using the word niggardly.
Your writing topic for the essay due next Wednesday will in part test your understanding of the words disinterested, uninterested, suffer, and suffrage. Your essay question is "Do citizens of a democracy have a moral or a civil obligation to alleviate the suffering of fellow citizens?"
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
The Band of Brothers Is Reunited
"This story shall the good man teach his son ...
From this day to the ending of the world.
But we in it shall be rememberèd —
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers ..."
Shakespeare, Henry V
Edward Moore Kennedy, requiescat in pacem
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
I Have an Interest
Okay, boys and girls, here's today's word: disinterested. And what does it mean? Anyone? Anyone?
[faint voice from somewhere in Massachusetts]
No, no, NO!! it is not a synonym of uninterested! Why would there be two synonymous words with the same root and different negative prefixes? The words have different meanings because the word interest has different meanings.
Are you paying attention?
[faint voice from somewhere in South Carolina]
Uninterested means simply having no interest in the most usual way we use the word. Eg., I am uninterested in advanced mathematics. I am uninterested in fashion. I am uninterested in your hurt feelings when I reprimand you for misusing a word in your own language.
Disinterested means impartial, unprejudiced. We hope that Sonia Sotomayor will be a disinterested justice.
[faint voice from somewhere in west Texas]
[loud noise of book being thrown]
No, you idiot, we don't mean that she will be bored by Supreme Court proceedings. We mean that she should have no financial or personal advantage to be gained by taking one side or another.
Do we all understand now?
[chorus of faint voices]
Fine. Let's practice. Homework for tonight: five original and reasonably literate sentences using uninterested and five using disinterested.
Class dismissed -- oh, and you out there in west Texas -- you're shrouded until next Monday.
[faint voice from somewhere in Massachusetts]
No, no, NO!! it is not a synonym of uninterested! Why would there be two synonymous words with the same root and different negative prefixes? The words have different meanings because the word interest has different meanings.
Are you paying attention?
[faint voice from somewhere in South Carolina]
Uninterested means simply having no interest in the most usual way we use the word. Eg., I am uninterested in advanced mathematics. I am uninterested in fashion. I am uninterested in your hurt feelings when I reprimand you for misusing a word in your own language.
Disinterested means impartial, unprejudiced. We hope that Sonia Sotomayor will be a disinterested justice.
[faint voice from somewhere in west Texas]
[loud noise of book being thrown]
No, you idiot, we don't mean that she will be bored by Supreme Court proceedings. We mean that she should have no financial or personal advantage to be gained by taking one side or another.
Do we all understand now?
[chorus of faint voices]
Fine. Let's practice. Homework for tonight: five original and reasonably literate sentences using uninterested and five using disinterested.
Class dismissed -- oh, and you out there in west Texas -- you're shrouded until next Monday.
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