I’d say that normally I’m not a complete bitch about the little things except that would be wrong: I am a complete bitch about some little things.
I have no idea why language matters so much to me or why I’m so fascinated by it, but it bothers me when people who should know better misuse and abuse the language in even the smallest way.
Take, for example, this lovely paragraph from The New York Times’ story on the fire in Griffith Park in Los Angeles:
Rich Keller, a 14-year resident of Shannon Road, the only street still under evacuation orders, said he was anxious to return home. He watched Tuesday afternoon as the fire seemed to die down and then flared up, forcing he and his wife to flee. This morning, he watched as the smoke died down and helicopters and planes swirled overhead, dumping water and fire retardant.
“Wildfire Rages in Park in Los Angeles”, By Randal Archibald, Published: May 9, 2007, The New York Times
Now…raise your hand if you can tell me what’s wrong with this excerpt. I’ll wait. And while I’m waiting I’ll contemplate poor Mr. Keller and how the fire forced he to flee.
Yes, our command of the language has become so poor that something as basic as this appears in the Newspaper of Record (at least, I’m sure that’s how the folks at the NYT think of themselves).
Go visit the article if only to see the picture of the fire turning the clouds of smoke behind a lighted Griffith Observatory deep orange. Sometimes the most brutal things are also the most beautiful.