Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Fanfic Related English is a Crazy Language

A German friend of mine emailed me this today. <g> Since she didn't attribute it and it wasn't quoted, it's entirely possible that Yvonne wrote it...

~*~*~*~

English is difficult. Can you read these sentences correctly... the
first
time?

1) The bandage was wound around the wound.


2) The farm was used to produce produce.


3) The landfill was so full, they had to refuse more refuse.


4) Please polish the Polish furniture.


5) He could be in the lead if he would get the lead out.


6) The soldier chose to desert his dessert in the desert.


7) Since there is no time like the present, it is time to present the
present.


8) A bass was painted on the head of the bass drum.


9) When shot at, the dove dove into the bushes.


10) I did not object to the object.


11) The insurance was invalid for the invalid.


12) There was a row among the oarsmen about how to row.


13) They were too close to the door to close it.


14) The buck does strange antics when does are around.


15) A seamstress and a sewer fell down into a sewer line.


16) To help with planting, the farmer taught his sow to sow.


17) The wind was too strong for us to wind the sail.


18) I shed a tear upon seeing the tear in the painting.


19) I had to subject the subject to a series of tests.


20) I need to intimate this to my most intimate friend?


Let's face it - English is a crazy language. There is no egg in
eggplant, no
ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple. English muffins
were
not invented in England nor French fries in France. Sweetmeats are
candies,
while sweetbreads, which aren't sweet, are meat.


We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find
that
quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square, and a guinea pig is
neither from Guinea nor is it a pig. And why is it that writers write
but
fingers don't fing, grocers don't groce and hammers don't ham?


If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn't the plural of booth, beeth?
One
goose, 2 geese. So one moose, 2 meese? One index,
2 indices? Is it not crazy that you can make amends, but not one amend?
If
you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them,
what
do you call it? If teachers taught, why didn't preachers praught?


If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat?
Sometimes I
think the first 'teachers of the language' should have been committed
to an
asylum for the verbally insane. How is it that people recite a play and
play
at a recital; ship by truck and send cargo by ship; have noses that run
and
feet that smell??


How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man
and a
wise guy are opposites? You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a
language in which your house can burn up as it burns down; you fill in
a
form by filling it out and an alarm goes off by going on.


English was invented by people, not computers, and reflects the
creativity
of the human race, which, of course, is not a race at all. This is why
when
the stars are out, they are visible, but when the lights are out, they
are
invisible.


P.S.


Why doesn't "Buick" rhyme with "quick"????

And we all know where these loosely quoted line comes from:

If someone is unhappy at his job, he's a disgruntled worker. If he's happy at his job, is he a gruntled worker?

gerry

I love this play on words email! I'd almost forgotten about it, since it's been so long since I've seen it. Thanks for posting it.

Sorry to say, though, as much as you'd love to credit Yvonne for writing it, she didn't. It's been around forever, and I've had it emailed to me at least a dozen times in the last 10 years. (Sorry, Yvonne )

I don't understand the reference to Yvonne, but the original author of that much-forwarded text is Richard Lederer, in Crazy English (1989).

Mere

For Gerry...

How I Met My Wife
By Jack Winter

It had been a rough day, so when I walked into the party I was very chalant, despite my efforts to appear gruntled and consolate.

I was furling my wieldy umbrella for the coat check when I saw her standing alone in a corner. She was a descript person, a woman in a state of total array. Her hair was kempt, her clothing shevelled, and she moved in a gainly way.

I wanted desperately to meet her, but I knew I'd have to make bones about it, since I was travelling cognito. Beknowst to me, the hostess, whom I could see both hide and hair of, was very proper, so it would be skin off my nose if anything bad happened. And even though I had only swerving loyalty to her, my manners couldn't be peccable. Only toward and heard-of behaviour would do.

Fortunately, the embarrassment that my maculate appearance might cause was evitable. There were two ways about it, but the chances that someone as flappable as I would be ept enough to become persona grata or a sung hero were slim. I was, after all, something to sneeze at, someone you could easily hold a candle to, someone who usually aroused bridled passion.

So I decided not to risk it. But then, all at once, for some apparent reason, she looked in my direction and smiled in a way that I could make heads or tails of.

I was plussed. It was concerting to see that she was communicado, and it nerved me that she was interested in a pareil like me, sight seen. Normally, I had a domitable spirit, but, being corrigible, I felt capacitated -- as if this were something I was great shakes at -- and forgot that I had succeeded in situations like this only a told number of times. So, after a terminable delay, I acted with mitigated gall and made my way through the ruly crowd with strong givings.

Nevertheless, since this was all new hat to me and I had no time to prepare a promptu speech, I was petuous. Wanting to make only called-for remarks, I started talking about the hors d'oeuvres, trying to abuse her of the notion that I was sipid, and perhaps even bunk a few myths about myself.

She responded well, and I was mayed that she considered me a savory character who was up to some good. She told me who she was. "What a perfect nomer," I said, advertently. The conversation became more and more choate and we spoke at length to much avail. But I was defatigable, so I had to leave at a godly hour. I asked if she wanted to come with me. To my delight, she was committal. We left the party together and have been together ever since. I have given her my love, and she has requited it.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This story originally appeared in the Shouts and Murmurs column of New Yorker magazine, on July 25, 1994.

Nice to know. <G> Yvonne is my friend's name. She's a foreign exchange student at my school studying English...

Laura

LOL, Mere! Boy, that's hard to read without all the negatives.

Perhaps you were thinking of another Yvonne, Laura?

Edit: Hey, Laura, we must have posted simultaneously. Thanks for the explanation.

Yvonne

<g> Yeah, we must've. Unless you're living a double life as a young, German curly-headed blonde, Literature major who works as a part-time magazine editor, is LDS, and one of my best RL friends, that is....

Laura

Mere, that is priceless! Thanks for posting it.

Hazel, still snickering

Great, isn't it? One of those ideas I wish I'd thought of first.

Incidentally, words like "gruntled" and "kempt" are called "lost positives". /me takes word-nerd hat off again

Mere

Thank you Meredith,
I've read that once before but forgot about it.
It is difficult to read, isn't it?

All I have to say is thank goodness I didn't have to learn English as a second language. My hat's off to all of you who have battled with English and won the war.

gerry