Vol. 38, No. 4
-
345
Fall, 1978
THE EDITOR EMERITUS STILL SQUAWKS The Tangled Web, 1977 The Editor Emeritus found a title for this quarterly squawk in the writing of another squawker 170 years ago. He now can picture Sir Walter Scott in 1807, quill pen in hand, placing the final period on Canto V1, Stanza 14, “Lay of the Last Minstrel.” Sir Walter had just written disgustedly, “Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practice t o deceive.” His choice of words might have scorched that early manuscript had he been able to listen to 1977’s televised claims for drugs which cure the headache or irritated nasal tissues or sleeplessness of upper respiratory infections. In the British Dental Journal for January 4, 1977 N. W. Johnson reviewed Essentials of Oral Pathology by Harry Lumerman. In Chapter I, he tangled with “Basic Pathogenetic (sic) Mechanisms.” When a person suffers from such an overdose of pathology, he might, indeed, become “sic(k).” Instead of a valentine, decorated with red hearts on February 14, the Editor Emeritus received an announcement that Perth, Australia, would teach enrollees how to “surgerize” diseased gingival tissue at $150 per session. Early in March, four nouns got degraded by government into adjectives so they would fit into “Dental, Health, Care, Services, Research Unit,” and on the Twentieth of March, a radio blared forth “. . .showcasing his talents.” In April, the prestigious “as to” began to bloom. Adverb “as” and preposition “to” make a strange couple, indeed, not sweet as sugar, but sour as lemons. A surgeon might tell communicators to anesthetize and excise “as to” from “She studied hard so as to learn” and then permit the patient to recover with a mere “hard to learn” left. Time after time “as to” is used when “about” would serve much more precisely and accurately. The American Heritage Dictionary (p. 49) complains about (not “as to”) the prestigious “and/or,” which, save for lawyers, can be replaced either by “and” or by “or” alone. Next, came June, ready to blossom all over the fertile landscape with new “-izes” and “-isms.” Ronald Nevans in Finanical World in June 1, 1977, supplies the first bud by claiming that Henry Ford “motorized the issues.” Mayo Clinic Proceedings for June reported a feminizing adenoma in a 10-year-old boy. On June 19, NBC‘s evening show detected “a shabby womanizer.” From June 23-26, the American Association of Dental Research occupied Las Vegas long enough to teach its statisticians how to directionalize their data and also show all toothbrushers how to solubalize the fats in dentifrices. Fatheads will disappear for good. Two instances of cannibalizing terminology out of one meeting set a second. Dental Abstracts for June then reviews the mindset essential for beginning a program of preventive maintenance. Mindset is not a fringe benefit obtained from a beautician’s hairset, not at all. It operates much deeper than one’s scalp. The Wall Street Journal for Monday, August 1, 1977, saved its page seven a tremendous amount of space by eliminating all pint-sized prepositions. Examine “. . . criticized the President’s capital gains ending preference which will reduce the estimated 1978 budgetary deficit.” Now examine the additional space required with prepositions back in place and performing their designated tasks:. . . “criticized the President’s plan to end the preference for exempting the tax on capital gains and
346
Journal of Public Health Dentistry
helping to reduce the budgetary deficit in 1978.” The statement now jingles grammatically, but five tiny prepositions add 10 letters and even more spaces. In early September, when dental students returned to their classes at The University of Michigan, they found a sign on the raucous cement-mixer next door. They read “Whisperized.” By October 15, Robert Weingarten was shedding inky tears in Financial World because there no longer was any protection in protectionism. That same evening WJR changed its broadcaster for weather. Since that moment, listeners hear about each day’s shower activity. Apparently, nobody has squawked because activity is a noun and shower is a noun, but now shower becomes an adjective. Some folk soon may get to wondering, however, how to get “Singing in the Rain” replaced by “Singing in the Shower Activity.” Four days later the U. S. mail engaged in some educational activity (whoops, “education activity”) by delivering the announcement of a “Workshop on Humanodontics.” Fortunately, the announcement explained this bit of impressive coinage as “the science of human behavior applied to dental practice.” An overworked Uncle Sam in the same mail delivered an application for enrolling in a “Workshop on Minor Tooth Moving.” Some recipients now are wondering how to select minor teeth for moving. On November 16, Uncle Sam delivered another announcement of another workshop. The title, this time, was a “Workshop on Computer Conferencing” and the explanation was “a new technology for gaining an overview of improved procedures.” “How high in the earth’s atmosphere,” an acrophobic acquaintance asks, “do I have to go to get this overview of conferencing?” Jim Fitzgerald’s column, for an issue of the Detroit Free Press in late October, has a delightful paragraph on the crimes committed in English while broadcasting a game of football over TV. For example, one always hear “the fourth and final quarter” when everyone beyond the age of four years can count to the final four. Listen, though, and learn, when the halfback carrying the ball fell down, his activity was self-tacklelization. The crowd’s noise then drowned out the quarterback‘s audibilization and held up the game. The crimes of Howard Cosell may linger long after he dies and the corpse is subjected to internoization. As a suitable ending to this squawk, the Editor Emeritus suggests that spiders only enjoy webs. All well-educated muscidae are taught how to avoid them. K AE
-
345
Fall, 1978
THE EDITOR EMERITUS STILL SQUAWKS The Tangled Web, 1977 The Editor Emeritus found a title for this quarterly squawk in the writing of another squawker 170 years ago. He now can picture Sir Walter Scott in 1807, quill pen in hand, placing the final period on Canto V1, Stanza 14, “Lay of the Last Minstrel.” Sir Walter had just written disgustedly, “Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practice t o deceive.” His choice of words might have scorched that early manuscript had he been able to listen to 1977’s televised claims for drugs which cure the headache or irritated nasal tissues or sleeplessness of upper respiratory infections. In the British Dental Journal for January 4, 1977 N. W. Johnson reviewed Essentials of Oral Pathology by Harry Lumerman. In Chapter I, he tangled with “Basic Pathogenetic (sic) Mechanisms.” When a person suffers from such an overdose of pathology, he might, indeed, become “sic(k).” Instead of a valentine, decorated with red hearts on February 14, the Editor Emeritus received an announcement that Perth, Australia, would teach enrollees how to “surgerize” diseased gingival tissue at $150 per session. Early in March, four nouns got degraded by government into adjectives so they would fit into “Dental, Health, Care, Services, Research Unit,” and on the Twentieth of March, a radio blared forth “. . .showcasing his talents.” In April, the prestigious “as to” began to bloom. Adverb “as” and preposition “to” make a strange couple, indeed, not sweet as sugar, but sour as lemons. A surgeon might tell communicators to anesthetize and excise “as to” from “She studied hard so as to learn” and then permit the patient to recover with a mere “hard to learn” left. Time after time “as to” is used when “about” would serve much more precisely and accurately. The American Heritage Dictionary (p. 49) complains about (not “as to”) the prestigious “and/or,” which, save for lawyers, can be replaced either by “and” or by “or” alone. Next, came June, ready to blossom all over the fertile landscape with new “-izes” and “-isms.” Ronald Nevans in Finanical World in June 1, 1977, supplies the first bud by claiming that Henry Ford “motorized the issues.” Mayo Clinic Proceedings for June reported a feminizing adenoma in a 10-year-old boy. On June 19, NBC‘s evening show detected “a shabby womanizer.” From June 23-26, the American Association of Dental Research occupied Las Vegas long enough to teach its statisticians how to directionalize their data and also show all toothbrushers how to solubalize the fats in dentifrices. Fatheads will disappear for good. Two instances of cannibalizing terminology out of one meeting set a second. Dental Abstracts for June then reviews the mindset essential for beginning a program of preventive maintenance. Mindset is not a fringe benefit obtained from a beautician’s hairset, not at all. It operates much deeper than one’s scalp. The Wall Street Journal for Monday, August 1, 1977, saved its page seven a tremendous amount of space by eliminating all pint-sized prepositions. Examine “. . . criticized the President’s capital gains ending preference which will reduce the estimated 1978 budgetary deficit.” Now examine the additional space required with prepositions back in place and performing their designated tasks:. . . “criticized the President’s plan to end the preference for exempting the tax on capital gains and
346
Journal of Public Health Dentistry
helping to reduce the budgetary deficit in 1978.” The statement now jingles grammatically, but five tiny prepositions add 10 letters and even more spaces. In early September, when dental students returned to their classes at The University of Michigan, they found a sign on the raucous cement-mixer next door. They read “Whisperized.” By October 15, Robert Weingarten was shedding inky tears in Financial World because there no longer was any protection in protectionism. That same evening WJR changed its broadcaster for weather. Since that moment, listeners hear about each day’s shower activity. Apparently, nobody has squawked because activity is a noun and shower is a noun, but now shower becomes an adjective. Some folk soon may get to wondering, however, how to get “Singing in the Rain” replaced by “Singing in the Shower Activity.” Four days later the U. S. mail engaged in some educational activity (whoops, “education activity”) by delivering the announcement of a “Workshop on Humanodontics.” Fortunately, the announcement explained this bit of impressive coinage as “the science of human behavior applied to dental practice.” An overworked Uncle Sam in the same mail delivered an application for enrolling in a “Workshop on Minor Tooth Moving.” Some recipients now are wondering how to select minor teeth for moving. On November 16, Uncle Sam delivered another announcement of another workshop. The title, this time, was a “Workshop on Computer Conferencing” and the explanation was “a new technology for gaining an overview of improved procedures.” “How high in the earth’s atmosphere,” an acrophobic acquaintance asks, “do I have to go to get this overview of conferencing?” Jim Fitzgerald’s column, for an issue of the Detroit Free Press in late October, has a delightful paragraph on the crimes committed in English while broadcasting a game of football over TV. For example, one always hear “the fourth and final quarter” when everyone beyond the age of four years can count to the final four. Listen, though, and learn, when the halfback carrying the ball fell down, his activity was self-tacklelization. The crowd’s noise then drowned out the quarterback‘s audibilization and held up the game. The crimes of Howard Cosell may linger long after he dies and the corpse is subjected to internoization. As a suitable ending to this squawk, the Editor Emeritus suggests that spiders only enjoy webs. All well-educated muscidae are taught how to avoid them. K AE
