The world will never be the same.

For years, I have been lamenting the downfall of the English language. In 1997, I refused to use emoticons. Since then, I've given in.

In 2000, I started all my Instant Messages with capital letters. While I still use periods, commas, and even semicolons where applicable, my usage of capital letters has lapsed.

In the mid-2000s, I refused to meet any online dating suitor who replaced the letter u for the word "you" or the letter r for the word "are." If I were still single, I would likely abide by this rule. I mean, a girl's gotta have standards, right?

Through it all, I bemoaned the death of English. I railed against poor grammar. My arguments were cogent and articulate. I always had something to say. And yet, when I saw this, words failed me.



I haven't eaten McDonald's since 2007, so boycotting them now shall be an easy thing to do.

On Hebrew school and improper word usage.

My parents made me go to Hebrew school when I was a kid. It started off as once a week in Kindergarten. By fourth grade, I was going twice a week. And by sixth, it was thrice weekly.

Hebrew school was awful. We learned bible stories, and the teachers weren't too fond of my questioning the faith. The rabbis? Oh, they loved my silly questions, but the teachers were young do-gooder types who weren't quite sure how to handle my rambunctious ways.

Because of this, my folks let me become a Hebrew School Dropout in the eighth grade. The teacher was an ass and we'd all had enough.

And speaking of asses... The most irritating thing about Hebrew school (to me, at least) was improper word usage. In the seventh grade, we had some sort of ceremony (for what, I do not recall). Each of us presented either an English or Hebrew recitation of one of the Ten Commandments.

Saving the best for last, I was to recite the English text of the Tenth Commandment:

You shall not covet your neighbor's house; you shall not covet your neighbor's wife, his male or female slave, his ox or his ass, or anything that is your neighbor's.

You know what they made me do? They made me say the word "donkey" instead of "ass." If they had let me just go ahead and use the A-word, everything would have gone smoothly. But because I was so very irritated that they changed the text for purposes of political correctness, I was so theatrical and so ridiculous in my recitation, that I was the only reciter who got a laugh from the audience.

The most egregious example of word usage tampering during my religious education was during the translation of my Torah portion during my Bat Mitzvah. I read Leviticus 26.3 through 26.13. To be sure, the text of Leviticus 16.13 is as follows:

I am the Lord your G-d who brought you out from the land of Egypt to be their slaves no more, who broke the bars of your yoke and who made you walk erect.

See the problem? If you guessed it was the word "erect," you are correct. Ding ding! I had to say the word "upright."

We all know of my penchant for proper syntax and my distaste of evolving usage (e.g., the fact that "melancholy" is now used as an adjective instead of a noun, the proper adjective form being "melancholic"). Given this, combined with the tampering with religious text for the sake of cleaning it up, is it really any wonder why I grew to hate organized religion?

On grammatically incorrect graffiti.

In the public restroom on the second floor of the courthouse, the following is written in black permanent marker:

Susie sucks more cock than whores on a Friday night

Argh!

I mean, come on. If you're going to insist on defiling an already-disgusting public restroom, at least do it with proper grammar.

Poor grammar nauseates me.

Every now and then someone will say, "I'm nauseous."

This always makes me giggle a little bit. Sometimes, if I don't like the person, I'll think to myself: You sure are nauseous, bitch!

The word nauseous means causing nausea. Something that makes other people feel sick. If you feel sick yourself? Then you feel nauseated.

Of course, all this is falling by the wayside. If you look up the word nauseous in an online dictionary, you will find that the common usage (read: incorrect usage) wins over, and the first definition is: to feel nauseated. This is wrong. It is as wrong as using the word melancholy as an adjective (it's a noun; the adjective form is melancholic).

Alas. Language is ever-evolving. Which means that when people misuse words long enough, they become "proper."

As for me, I implore you all. Bring proper usage back! You are no longer nauseous, friends and neighbors. You are nauseated! Change your usage. Do it in the name of grammar. Do it to feel intellectually superior. If those reasons aren't enough for you, then just do it for the Saucy Vixen.

Saving.

The official spelling is Daylight Saving Time, not Daylight SavingS Time.

Saving is used here as a verbal adjective (a participle). It modifies time and tells us more about its nature; namely, that it is characterized by the activity of saving daylight. It is a saving daylight kind of time. Because of this, it would be more accurate to refer to DST as daylight-saving time. Similar examples would be a mind-expanding book or a man-eating tiger.Saving is used in the same way as saving a ball game, rather than as a savings account.

Nevertheless, many people feel the word savings flows more mellifluously off the tongue. Daylight Savings Time is also in common usage, and can be found in most dictionaries.

Adding to the confusion is that the phrase Daylight Saving Time is innaccurate, since no daylight is actually being saved. Daylight Shifting Time would be better, but is not as politically desirable.

It may be too much to expect, but it's not too much to ask.

I'll keep this short, since most of you have heard it all before.

Everyone who refuses to capitalize the noun "I" and who writes "u" instead of "you" and other such nonsense can sod off. Every time I see such horrid grammar, it sends chills down my spine and I seriously want to seriously injure the person who has inflicted such an atrocity upon me.

It is really too much to ask that people exercise the basics they learned in grade school? I understand that not everyone knows that "unique" does not come in degrees. I've accepted that. But I really don't think it's asking or expecting too much to insist that people know the difference between to (expressing motion), too (also) and two (the number). What about your (possessive) and you're (you are)? AAAAAACK. Such misuse and abuse sends me into fits of spavins and heaves.

People who violate the laws of basic grammar in this way deserve to be caned. Or have their hands cut off. With no hands, they will no longer be able to inflict such pain upon me via their keyboards.

My mother the copyeditor.

We all know that my mother writes copy. She edits copy, too. She buys really bad fiction -- you know, the sort of drek that comes from the racks of airport bookstores -- and reads it holding a red pen. She bemoans crappy editors and wonders where all the really good writers went. She implores me to become a novelist and write my own crappy fiction, insisting that my iterations of hardly palatable prose will be better than what's already out there. But since her requests fall upon my deaf ears, she simply continues to edit the poorly written books she reads.

She used to edit my journals/diaries.

I know this. I know this because I know she used to read them. How? I asked her. Several months ago I accused her of having read the journals I kept in high school. She admitted the atrocity, and claimed that as a mother, it was her responsibility to make sure I was safe. If that meant reading my journals, so be it. I wasn't particularly upset because (1) it was over a decade ago; and (2) my life in high school was anything but interesting. Which is what I told her:

"Mom, I said. "My life is high school was anything but interesting. I wasn't really doing anything."

"I know," she responded. "That's why I stopped reading."

Now, with comic timing being what it is, I know that I should have stopped at that last sentence. "That's why I stopped reading" is a good punchline. Why go on and ruin it? Well, the answer is that I just can't help myself. I'm still in journal-transcription mode, and every now and then I see an odd mark. A quiggly delete mark. An S-shaped, "you inverted your letters, dumbass!" mark. Did I really self-edit my journals after I wrote them? I ponder the situation. And then it hits me.

Like me, my mother couldn't help herself, either. She read my journals, pen in hand, and though I'm sure she tried to stop herself, she edited as she went along.

I am dead. I am pregnant.

Prepare yourself for a grammar rant:

Alright, people. The word of the day is: unique.

It means: "Being the only one of its kind."

Therefore, unique does not come in degrees. Something cannot be "a little unique" any more than it can be "very unique." If something is the only one of its kind, there are no levels.

Do you believe in magick?

I'm well aware that there are many people out there who are spiritual who enjoy gallivanting with faeries and wizards and whatnot. But does that mean they have to spell incorrectly? Magick. What the hell is that all about?

According to a close source, "magick" is about to be included in Webster's Dictionary. This fact makes me even more irate.