It Ain't What It Ain't

People who know me—even those who barely know me—realize that I get worked up about misuse of the “King’s English.” Clichés and subject/verb disagreements give me dyspepsia. Dangling or misplaced participles gnaw at my gut and cry out for emendation. It seems I can’t read without a red pen in my hand and can’t have a conversation without correcting another person’s syntax. 

This trait is not always admirable, yet I don’t regret having it. After all, correcting an editor on the proper use of that versus which got me a job once. But it makes me a pain in the tukhus and justifies my status as a Grumpy Grammarian. 

Clichés and Such

High on the GG’s list of concerns are banalities, platitudes, and bromides: seemingly obvious truths stated or written to make the speaker/writer seem wise and his ideas incontrovertible but which often cannot withstand critical examination. (I purposely refrained from posting this until after the election lest the previous statement seem a derogation of politicians.*) 

For example, consider the following quote, variously attributed (erroneously) to Einstein, Ben Franklin, Mark Twain, and an unknown Chinese aphorist: 

The definition of insanity is doing the same thing

over and over again and expecting different results.

Uh, no. It’s not. The definition of insanity is: “at the time of the committing of the act, the party accused was labouring under such a defect of reason, from disease of the mind, as not to know the nature and quality of the act he was doing; or, if he did know it, that he did not know he was doing what was wrong.” [M’Naughton’s Case, House of Lords Decisions, May 26, 1843.]  Insanity is a legal concept, not a medical diagnosis. But the inane piece of psycho- babble quoted earlier is often accepted, without demurrer, as a scientific fact. 

Like most everything in life, a lot depends on context. Unless you’re a substance abuser, there’s nothing inherently “insane” about doing the same thing over and over again and expecting—or hoping for—different results. Think of the many authors whose manu- scripts were rejected repeatedly before their books became best sellers. Think of the hundreds of attempts Edison made before he perfected the light bulb. Think of the many elections Lincoln lost before becoming President. And think of scientists who repeat their experiments many times precisely to see whether they’ll get different results.

To get to Carnegie Hall you must “practice, practice, practice.” Jimmy Valvano famously said, “Don’t give up. Don’t ever give up!”

Get my point? I’m inclined to think that the definition of insanity is: 

Repeating the same trite phrase over and over while expecting people to think you’re clever.

It Is What It Is

There’s another vapid comment I keep hearing: “It is what it is.” (Sometimes abbreviated “iiwii”). The first time I heard the expression I wanted to cry out, “Well of course it is. What the hell else would it be?!”

 

I first heard iiwii in the aftermath of hurricane Gustav, which hit Baton Rouge on Labor Day weekend of 2008. We were without power in 90° heat for a number of days. I had to relocate to temporary office space due to roof damage in my building. The streets were blocked with debris. Grocery stores and other establishments were closed for awhile. The hospital where I worked was understaffed, overworked, and on generator power.  In short, it was an uncomfortable week or two and an experience I don’t want to repeat. As a coping mechanism people kept saying “it is what it is,” sometimes even pronouncing the abbreviation like a word: EE'-wee. This context probably explains why I react negatively to the phrase. Bad memories of Baton Rouge in general don’t help, either.

There’s nothing grammatically wrong with it is what it is, of course. It’s a deliberate tautology that serves as a defense mechanism, an indication of resignation and defeat, or a sign that one is in psychological denial about something. It can be used, to good effect, when someone like a public official wants to “deflect inquiry with panache,” as William Safire said in his column once. It’s not as gruff as, “No comment!” Nevertheless, it seems to me an ugly and cartoonish expression. 

After all, Popeye the Sailor Man used to sing, “I yam what I yam and that’s all that I yam!” I think of Popeye when I hear it is what it is. And the phrase adds little more to a conversation than five syllables of noise. I rank it near the top of the list of hackneyed, annoying, simplistic phrases, a list that includes “maybe, just maybe,” “outside the box,” and “low-hanging fruit.”

Simplistic language bespeaks simplistic thinking. (Oh, another swipe at politicians. Sorry!)

I’m Just Sayin’…

This Grumpy Grammarian/Hermit Philosopher has railed before at the general lack of critical thinking skills. Sloppy writing and indiscriminate use of stale idioms perpetuate this trend. As do inane emails forwarded around the Internet, “news” outlets that spew infotainment, and print and television media that make people famous just for their “famousness.” (Yes, I’m thinking of Sarah Palin, the Kardashians, and Honey Boo Boo.) 

The dumbing down of America continues. Whatever. Que será será. Or as Lennon and McCartney put it:

Let it be, let it be,
Let it be, let it be.
Whisper words of wisdom,

Let it be.

_____

*How’s that for paralipsis? (Paralipsis, n. The rhetorical device whereby one draws attention to something while claiming to be passing over it.)

Micawber and Jeremiah on the Human Condition

I subscribe to Gratefulness.org, a not-for-profit group that “provides education and support for the practice of grateful living” and sends daily inspirational quotes for us to ponder. Some of these are way too quixotic and Zen-like for my literal-minded tendencies, but occasionally there’s one that I understand and which gets me to reflecting.

Such was the following quote that appeared in my inbox one morning recently—

The world is evolving from imperfection to perfection. It needs all love and sympathy; great tenderness and watchfulness are required from each one of us.  - Hazrat Inayat Khan, A Bowl of Saki

I compared those thoughts with a passage my erudite cousin Carol quoted from Brian Thomas Swimme and Mary Evelyn Tucker's The Journey of the Universe. The passage reads:

Our human role is to deepen our consciousness in resonance with the dynamics of the fourteen-billion-year creative event in which we find ourselves. Our challenge now is to construct livable cities and to cultivate healthy foods in ways congruent with Earth's patterns.  Our role is to provide the hands and hearts that will enable the universe's energies to come forth in a new order of well-being.  Our destiny is to bring forth a planetary civilization that is both culturally diverse and locally vibrant, a multiform civilization that will enable life and humanity to flourish.

Seeing the quotes in juxtaposition, I didn't know whether to be uplifted or depressed. On one hand, it's nice to think that the world is evolving toward perfection. On the other, evolution is a slow process. As Swimme and Tucker point out, the universe is about 14 billion years old. The earth is about 4.5 billion years old. Human-like animals have been around for a hundred thousand years or so, but human civilization, as such, for merely twelve thousand (plus or minus).

I posit the following analogy: if humanity today were a single individual, he* would be about 12 or 13 years old, one year for each thousand years of civilization. I will call him Typical Human (T.H.).

___
*I use the male pronoun only for the sake of convenience, but the characteristics I describe below appear more pronounced in males, so saying he/him seems apt. 

In other words, Typical Human is a tween or teenager—callow, self-centered, and defiant; rebellious, boastful, and bereft of much insight; pleasure-seeking, annoying, and short-tempered. Like a tween or teenager, T.H. is engaged in a struggle to create a stable and permanent sense of self and to achieve a degree of self-awareness and self-acceptance. He is ready for abstract thinking, but he's still pretty concrete.

T.H.'s friendships are with those who play the games he likes and, to a lesser degree, with people who have similar personal qualities. He is suspicious of "the other"—geeks, nerds, people who look odd and think differently. He believes that what interests him should interest everyone else, and he is shocked to find that most people are indifferent to what he's ready to die for. In fact, of course, the issues that are important to T.H.'s peers are those which are of greatest concern to them. They are just as interested in themselves as T.H. is in himself.

When T.H. speculates about what his world could be he gets lost in dreams, becomes overly idealistic, and forgets the practical limitations. He fails to consider the needs and dreams of his peers because he is unaware those are not congruent with his own. He becomes frustrated. This leads to anger and, often, to acting out (i.e., war). Like real tweens and teenagers, T.H. is trying to integrate past, present and future in such a way as to establish a stable and consistent sense of self.  In short, he's having a crisis of identity.

But a stable identity takes a long while to develop. In real people the process lasts at least through adolescence and into one's twenties or beyond. Given my analogy of T.H.'s age to human civilization (1 year = 1,000), it will be ten or fifteen millennia before humanity matures, if it ever does.

I shared these thoughts with Carol and, ever the optimist, she wrote back—

I would have to say that I would give both teenagers and your Typical Human a more balanced persona. In addition to the characteristics that you've listed, I would add that both teenagers and the human species in our time also exhibit emerging noble, collaborative, and compassionate qualities-- the capacity for hypothetical and reflective thought, great creativity, a growing capacity for empathy of other humans and life forms, including those who are different from ourselves, a capacity for awe and wonder, and a rising sense of justice and interdependence with the rest of the world.

Something deep within me believes that while we are surely still evolving, our goodness has an edge over our selfish side or we probably would have destroyed ourselves long ago.

Carol is such an optimist: a Micawber to my Jeremiah. I’m glad she, Khan, and Swimme/Tucker think we're evolving. I'd like to come back in 15,000 years or so to see whether we've made much progress.  (But I remain skeptical that we will have. LOL)

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