Doing things by the numbers

JUNE CASAGRANDE
(Published:
March 14, 2006)

In the TV series "24," which is sometimes written on screen as "Twentyfour," counter- terrorism agent Jack Bauer has saved the world from nuclear destruction, thwarted poison gas attacks on civilians, escaped the clutch of terrorist abductors, exposed a traitor in the White House, used a cell phone nonstop for 24 hours without the battery dying and himself actually risen from the dead.

And, through the miracle called "suspension of disbelief," I and millions of other Americans can simply accept all this.

But when Jack jumps into his SUV at 9 a.m. at Ontario Airport then comes screeching up five minutes later in the heart of the San Fernando Valley -- well, that's when they've gone too far.

It's exactly this kind of absurdity that has been turning people off of scripted television and into the clutches of reality TV. This is why I believe there's a huge demand for a new reality show I've come up with, called "The Real 24," in which entire episodes contain nothing but Jack Bauer sitting in his car for 60 minutes at a pop.

Oh, and there would be one more major difference between my show and the original: When my show cuts to commercial, the graphic would correctly spell out, "Twenty-four."

The guidelines for writing numbers -- especially for knowing when to spell them out -- are ridiculously complicated.

Newspapers follow different guidelines from books, so the more you read the less you know. And even if you stick to just one style guide, says the newspaper style bible the Associated Press Stylebook, trouble will find you faster than Jack can find a wide-open lane on the 110 at rush hour.

AP's basic rule is that numbers less than 10 are spelled out, while 10 and up are written as figures. "I guffaw in disbelief an average of eight to 12 times during each one-hour episode."

But AP has literally dozens of different entries with confusing and seemingly arbitrary rules. For example, ages always require figures. "Jack looks about 38 years old, his daughter looks 24 years old and this might seem perfectly plausible to an 8-year-old."

You have to look under "fractions" to see that you're supposed to spell out and hyphenate fractions less than one: "Four-fifths of Jack's time is spent in the car." But when writing about a number greater than one, fractions use figures: "Jack's SUV consumes 1 7/8 tanks of gas every day -- most of it while idling."

Under "dimensions," AP tells us that height, width, depth, etc. use figures as well. Jack's only 5-foot-5 but his gun is a full 8 inches long. But you have to turn to the "weights" to see that this is true of weights as well. "That's 5 pounds of baloney."

But none of the dozens of listings referenced in AP's numbers section will tell you how to spell and punctuate numbers.

The know where to turn for this answer, you must already know where to turn -- or at least read a column by someone who knows where to turn:

In the punctuation section of the AP Stylebook, under "hyphens," we find our answer: "When large numbers must be spelled out, use a hyphen to connect a word ending in -y to another word: 'twenty-one,' 'fifty-five,' etc."

And that, above all else, is why the show "Twentyfour" is nowhere near as successful as my properly spelled show will be.

 

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Getting some help from Mr. Burns

JUNE CASAGRANDE
(Published:
March 7, 2006)

If being able to cite all five First Amendment rights is the epitome of informed citizenship, then what's the antithesis of this enlightened state? "The Simpsons." Or at least that's the implication of a much-trumpeted recent survey -- one I've read about in the Los Angeles Times and AOL News and heard about on NPR.

For those who've missed it, an organization called the McCormick Tribune Freedom Museum conducted a phone survey of 1,000 people and concluded that Americans are more likely to know Bart and Homer than they are to know that they're free to worship Bart and Homer, to talk about Bart and Homer and to assemble peaceably in honor of Bart and Homer (which may explain the low turnout at the weekly prayer group I host).

Now, I'm as anti-entertainment as the next intellectual poser. If you ream "American Idol," mock Dr. Phil, roll your eyes at the national obsession with "Desperate Housewives," I'm with you. But hands off "The Simpsons."

Because while a half hour with this cartoon family may not get you any closer to an 'A' on your high school civics exam, it certainly will leave you better informed about the English language.

Case in point: For my entire life, I thought you were supposed to kick off a footrace with a call of, "To your marks. Get set. Go!" It took one C. Montgomery Burns, billionaire atom miser and boss of one Homer Simpson, to set me straight in a rerun I saw just the other night.

"Toe your marks!" Burns yells to employees about to race.

Toe? Yes, toe.

According to "Garner's Modern American Usage," an actual book I keep on a shelf near my actual bound copy of the United States Constitution, "toe your marks" comes from "track-and-field events in which the contestants were once told to put one foot on the starting line."

If you didn't already know it, this is why "toe the line" is spelled the same way. Though I once thought it meant to help others "tow" a line of rope to haul some heavy object, it actually means, "Hey, get up here at the starting line with the rest of us and stop slacking in the back ranks."

I should note that the "Simpsons" episode from which I nabbed this crucial bit of academic wisdom is one I've seen in rerun form over and over and over again without ever hearing the nuance of Burns' pronunciation until this very last time.

This fact proves beyond a reasonable doubt that I'm not just free to watch three "Simpsons" reruns a night but that I'm intellectually justified in doing so.

And if that doesn't convince you, consider this: Not 24 hours later, on the very evening of writing this column, a "Simpsons" rerun enlightened the free world with the following words of wisdom.

Chief Wiggum: "Hijinks. That's a funny word. Three dotted letters in a row."

Lou the cop: "Is it hyphenated?"

Chief Wiggum: "It used to be. Of course, every generation hyphenates the way it wants to."

This is education we can all use.

Consider that just two years ago the Associated Press Stylebook insisted that "free-lance" should be hyphenated. But they changed their tune. It's "freelance," they now insist.

And though there was once a battle over whether people should write "e-mail" or "email," the verdict is in. The one with the hyphen won. I bet Wiggum knew that.

So when it comes to learning language, there's no better way to spend 90 minutes a day five days a week than watching "Simpsons" episodes.

But if you're bent on learning about our national heritage, founding fathers, principles of democracy and all that stuff -- well, perhaps you really should open a textbook. I'll even recommend one that I myself have read cover to cover. It was written by Jon Stewart.

* JUNE CASAGRANDE is a freelance writer. She can be reached at JuneTCN@aol.com.

 

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Feb. 19, 2006

 

Bipartisan Blunders

A Word, Please

By June Casagrande

 

President Bush knows the secret to always nailing perfect grammar. It's a lesson we should all heed: Never, ever say anything that isn't written down on paper by skilled professionals dedicated to making you sound good.

 

The president's several forays off script have only served to reinforce the wisdom of this strategy. He may have "misunderestimated" his speech writers when he used his own words to ask, "Is our children learning?" But these are calculated losses -- the sacrifice of a few pawns designed to advance the cause of proving the genius of his normal strategy. Who can deny how brilliant he sounds in comparison when he goes back on script?

 

Leadership, that's what it is. And I, for one, take comfort in it.

 

But then, last week, tragedy -- an earth-shattering event that has rattled my worldview. See if you can spot the gaffe in the following prepared statement made by the president.

 

"Khalid Sheik Muhammad sought out young men from Southeast Asia, whom he believed would not arouse as much suspicion."

 

Yes, it has something to do with "whom."

 

Now, I know what some of you are thinking: "Liberal media! So the Bush administration is to public speaking what the Gerald Ford administration was to public walking. How about picking on one of your buddies for a change, say a reporter at NPR?" To which I say, okey dokey. Here's a quote from NPR reporter Corey Flintoff about the elections in Haiti: "The U.S. expects to work with whomever wins this election."

 

"Whom" can be slippery. Not only does it elude presidential speech writers, but language book author William F. Buckley Jr. has been busted using it wrong as well. (Sorry, but I just don't have any similar dirt on Noam Chomsky or Al Franken -  yet.) So I'll start with the single most crucial thing you need to know about "whom" and "whomever": They're optional.

 

Leading language authorities agree that "whom" is for formal speech and writing. Because "formal" is subjective, you get to decide when it applies.

 

Again, I know what you're thinking: "Yes, June, that's all well and good for normal folk, but I am someone destined for the highest peaks of greatness. I plan to one day rise to the position of NPR reporter or maybe even presidential speech writer. Therefore, I must master 'whom.'" 

 

Fine. Here's the basic rule: "Who" is a subject, just as "I," "he," "she," "we" and "they" are subjects. "Whom" is an object, just as "me," "him," "her," "us" and "them" are objects. Therefore, whenever you want to know whether to use whom or who, just try plugging in any of these pairs. "He is coming to the party," or, "Him is coming to the party"? The subject form is right, so use "who" here.

 

Master this and you're instantly on par with anyone who's ever occupied public radio airwaves or the presidential pajamas.

 

Those truly destined for greatness are no doubt thinking, "Thanks for the primer, but I refuse to sit idly by while you weasel out of telling us why Bush and Flintoff were wrong."

 

It's about time someone had the courage to demand accountability in journalism. I submit to your power.

 

In the Bush quote and the Flintoff quote, the pronouns in question are acting as both objects and subjects. In Flintoff's case, the pronoun is the object of "to work with," as in, "We'll work with him." But it's also the subject of the verb "wins," "He wins this election." Same thing for the Bush quote. The pronoun is the object of "thought," but the subject of "would arouse suspicion." And, for you who've stayed with me until now, here's the simple and universal rule for handling these cases: Whenever it's both an object and a subject, it takes the subject form - i.e. "who" or "whoever." That's all you need to know to tower above NPR reporters, the president or even the president's speech writers.

 

Use this power wisely.

 

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Feb. 12, 2006

 

A Word, Please

If or Whether

By June Casagrande

 

If you want to know whether your language skills are up to snuff, ask yourself: Are the words "whether" and "if" both used correctly in the first part of this sentence? Are they interchangeable? And what exactly is the difference between the two?

 

If you answered, "I dunno," "Duh," or, "I must've missed that lecture," I have good news. This alone does not mean that your language skills are sub par. On the contrary, a lot of language experts don't know the answer to this one. It's even conceivable that certain language columnists might have to look it up before venturing to write a column about it. (Hypothetically speaking.) If, on the other hand, you answered, "pickled ginger," "the hypotenuse" or "A-Rod," then I'm afraid it is possible that your communication-related insecurities are well-founded.

 

For the rest of us, here's some insight from the most helpful reference book I could find.

 

"It's good editorial practice," writes Bryan Garner of "Garner's Modern American Usage," "to distinguish between these words." Then he goes on to do just that.

 

"'Let me know if you'll be coming' means that I want to hear from you only if you're coming. But 'Let me know whether you'll be coming' means that I want to hear from you about your plans one way or the other."

 

In other, less clear words, "if" is for "conditional ideas" whereas "whether" is for alternatives and possibilities.

 

That's a good distinction - as good a place as any to draw the line between these two words - but only if you first accept Garner's thesis that it's good editorial practice to distinguish between the two. That's the part I find highly questionable. The minute you declare yourself in a position to narrow down the use of two words, you're contradicting other authorities. And you're also labeling as "wrong" uses that are both customary and very defensible.

 

The dictionary definitions of these two words make it clear that there is no such line in the sand.

 

Webster's New World College Dictionary does mention that "whether" has to do with alternatives, such as, "whether he drives or (whether he) flies, he'll be on time." Webster's adds, "Sometimes, the second is merely implied or understood, 'We don't know whether he'll improve (or not).'"  But that's Webster's second definition of "whether," not the first. Webster's first definition of "whether" sounds a lot like Garner's definition of "if.": "if it be the case or fact that."

 

What's worse, Webster's gives three definitions for the conjunction "if." And definition No. 3 is "whether."

 

So clearly, Garner's drawing a line in the sand between these two will only muddy the waters and give grammar bullies ammo to label perfectly defensible uses as "wrong."

 

Of course, any native speaker knows that "whether" and "if" aren't completely interchangeable. "If you build it, they will come" doesn't really mean the same thing if you replace the "if" with a whether. Or consider answering, "Do you want Thai food?" with, "Sure. If you do." Changing that "if" to "whether" wouldn't make any sense at all.

 

But you didn't need a language scholar to tell you that anymore than you need them to tell you that adding "or not" to "whether" is often redundant.

 

"Generally use 'whether' alone -- not with the words 'or not' tacked on," the "Chicago Manual of Style" says. "The 'or not' is necessary only when you mean to convey the idea of 'regardless of whether.' 'We'll finish on time whether or not it rains.'" Garner, who helped write the Chicago Manual, says pretty much the exact same thing.

 

Whether or not experts continue to try to confuse us, you can trust your instincts on these two words if and only if you have a basic grasp of the difference between conjunctions and pickled ginger.