Principle vs. principal

I am your principle! Uh, principal...I think...

Here comes one that has stymied people for generations — the age-old duel between principle and principal. And why not? One is a rule you’d rather not follow and the other is a person you’d rather not run into in the hall. As always, there’s a way to keep the two separate, just like Rosie O’Donnell and Elisabeth Hasselbeck: one here, one over there.  But first, how about some definitions?

Principal means first, most important, chief or head.

Principle means a law, rule or doctrine.

Both are nouns, but as you can see, principle is an idea and principal is usually a person. So here comes Conan’s mnemonic device for how to tell the two apart: The principal is your pal.

Brevity: next to godliness

There, there. Let Mama read you some Hemingway.

I think I’ve finally figured out the genesis of wordy writing: high school English teachers. When my oldest daughter was a freshman, she took a final exam in which she was forced to write two full paragraphs on prompts like

Give three ways that Charles Dickens creates suspense in Great Expectations, and discuss the effectiveness.

What would a proper response be?

Dickens uses foreshadowing, mysterious plot lines and the slowing down of time to create suspense. Each element succeeds in making the reader interested in what will happen next.

These two sentences answer the prompt concisely and directly. Our student writer could then,  in succinct fashion, delineate how each of these elements succeed. But students are penalized for such brevity – they are required to hit a certain word count. Conan’s spawn was forced to use meaningless filler phrases such as

• at this point in time
• had an effect upon
• in order to
• for the purpose of
• until such time as
• with the possible exception of
• in my personal opinion

Oh, the humanity!

In the interest of brevity, I’ll say no more.

Cassandra pointed out that my original draft was a little too brief. I’ve amended it based on her comments. Thanks, Cassandra!

Good vs. well

Coconut cocktail, anyone?

Dear Conan:

I have a request for an article, since you seem to be accepting them: good vs. well.

I think I have a pretty good handle on the English language and grammar, even though I didn’t do so well in my English (now language arts — yuck!) classes in high school.

But I’m still confused by good vs. well — note the above. I see you wrote “their dentist who did really good in English in junior high edit their masterworks,” and now I’m all confused.

Please help!

~Mark

---

Dear Mark:

To quote Charlie Brown, “Don’t you know sarcasm when you hear it?”

Oh, man — now, see, that’s what I get for being all smartenheimery! The sentence you quoted was me being ironic…making fun of those who use their dentist for proofreading. The fact is that sometimes I write incorrectly intentionally to either be funny or to make a point.

Thanks for the feedback/suggestion!

~Conan

How can I refuse Mark’s cries for help, since I’m the one who caused the confusion? It is my highest aspiration to be a beacon of grammatical correctness and a paragon of linguistic virtue. I hang my head in shame having failed so completely in my mission. However, I shall endeavor to make note of the instances in which I use incorrect spelling/grammar/punctuation et. al. from now on.

So anyways…good and well. How do we know which to use when?

Not that you care, but good is an adjective. Adjectives describe nouns and pronouns. Well, on the other hand, is an adverb. Adverbs describe — you guessed it — verbs (and adjectives, but that’s another story).

Example: Fifi Trixibelle is a good belly dancer.

Good describes the noun belly dancer. In other words, good is used to tell what kind of belly dancer Fifi Trixibelle is.

Example: Dweezil belly dances well.

Well describes the verb belly dance. Well is used to tell how Dweezil belly dances.

So here’s Conan’s mnemonic device for good and well: Remember Mr. Howell from Gilligan’s Island? He’s here to help you. To decide between our two problem words, think of Mr. Howell, and how well he hoarded money.

This will help you remember that how goes with well, and then by default, that what kind goes with good.

P.S. In his email, Mark used good and well properly throughout.

Hyphens and dashes

Use sparingly.

Oh, great, you think to yourself. Punctuation. Fascinating stuff. Who cares?

Well, um, duh, I do. And as long as I’m alive, I will be beating you over the head with my Strunk & White. Okay?

This article was inspired by a friend of mine who recently made the pronouncement that comma usage in our modern age is kind of up for grabs. It’s a Ted Nugent free-for-all. Sprinkle those commas like Bac-Os all over your prose. All paths lead to punctuational correctness!

Affect vs. effect

Dear Conan:

Maybe this is one you can write about in your newsletter—when to use effect or affect. I am usually good at this rule but am unsure of my usage here:

The brand of your company also effects first impressions.

Since I am writing an article on first impressions, I don’t want to appear stupid.

~Beth

Dear Beth:

Amen, sis. That’s a sentiment I mutter on a continual basis, so I can relate. There’s an easy way to remember which is which, however, to cut down on the embarrassment factor (in this area, anyway). Thanks for the suggestion.

~Conan

Hey! My cable guy’s a proofreader too!

I once edited a charming memoir written by a gentleman whose mother grew up in a North Dakota sod house. He wrote his book as a gift to his brothers and sisters, and he had it professionally published and bound. The final product will look great and is grammatically correct, so his family can concentrate on the content and not on the misuse of commas or the confusion of the words “then” and “than.”

I was impressed that this man cared enough about his project to hire a professional editor, even though he’s not seeking a readership other than his loved ones. Why is it, then, that people who should know better, people who write books for commercial use, routinely neglect this one little detail? Instead, they have their mother-in-law, or their mechanic, or their dentist who did really good in English in junior high edit their masterworks.

Two people whom I really respect, and whose work deserves to be read by a wide audience, recently released books with glaring punctuation, grammar, spelling and usage errors. And even more unfortunately, each profusely thanked his “editor,” earnestly trumpeting the “eagle eyes” of same in the acknowledgements section. Both chose people who are either “good writers” or “good at English.”

Look — I know plenty of people who are good writers but whose command of the tools of writing (punctuation, grammar, spelling) are less than stellar. And having a general English degree doesn’t qualify you to be an editor any more than having a general medical degree qualifies you to be a neurosurgeon, n’est-ce pas?

It’s a fact that even the best editors and proofreaders make mistakes — of course they do*. But their mistakes are mistakes of omission rather than ignorance. I’m not getting up on my rickety old soap box to bully you into hiring me for all your editing and proofing needs (although, ahem, you could do worse). I am, however, strenuously suggesting that you make the investment and employ a reputable, knowledgeable, professional editor/proofreader to make your magnum opus all it can be.

Okay. I’m done.

Indefinite articles: a or an?

Let’s talk about indefinite articles, shall we? Specifically, I’d like to address some apparent confusion about when and where to use “a” versus “an.” Think you know this one already? We’ll just see about that.

I have noticed a disturbing uptick in the use of “an” preceding words that start with a long “u.” Okay, you say. So what? Isn’t that correct? Weren’t we taught to always use “an” before vowels and “a” before consonants? Um, no. You weren’t. You were obviously not paying attention if you write headlines such as this one, from America’s Intelligence(?) Wire:

EDITORIAL: An U. Wisconsin student association anomaly

Or how about this one, from a UC Berkeley Department of Electrical Engineering and Computer Science abstract:

We consider the problem of generating all maximal cliques in an unit disk graph.

Or this one, from a news release that simultaneously bores us senseless and inspires determined confidence in military contractor Boeing:

BSAS currently holds an U. S. Army Special Operations Command contract at Fort Campbell, Ky., providing integrated and life-cycle contractor logistics support to the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment. Products maintained for mission-specific support are the Chinook (Boeing) and Black Hawk (Sikorsky) helicopters.

And finally, a product description from Rubbermaid’s web site:

Brackets come in several styles and add an unique flair to picture displays and collectables.

The one hard-and-fast rule regarding indefinite articles is that you use your ear instead of your eye to determine which one to use. To clarify: words and acronyms such as

unit
unique
U.S.
useful

may begin with a vowel, but the initial sound said vowel makes is that of the consonant “y.”

Don’t believe me? Read the above examples aloud and the grating, Yoko-Ono-like dissonance will drive home just how wrong it is to use “an” in front of a long “u.” Always use “a” before words and acronyms beginning with the long “u.”

Conversely, sometimes it’s correct to use “an” in front of a consonant. No, really! Check it out:

an x-ray
an s-shaped curve
an honor killing

The point is, when it comes to indefinite articles, let your ear be your guide.

Double negatives

Don't make me use these.

Hey there Conan

Can you do a bit on double negatives?  It bugs the crap out of me when people say stuff like

I didn’t go nowhere
I don’t got nothing
I didn’t do nothing

~Cheryl

---

Dearest Cheryl: I am happy, naturally, to correct others’ speech as well as their writing. Nothing gives me more pleasure.

Your ally in correctness,

~Conan

So you out there — when you use double negatives, you’re saying the opposite of what you meant to say: I didn’t go nowhere means I went somewhere. Now, don’t make me get out my ruler and rap your knuckles. Cut it out and do your bit to lower Cheryl’s blood pressure. I thank you.

Comma tally voo?

In just a few short years, I'll be starring in "Westworld."

Obviously, I can’t tackle the entire subject of comma usage in one Conan, so we’ll take it a bit at a time.  I swore I’d never do this to you, but I can’t think of any other way to get my point across. I’m going to have to get a little technical this time.  Nothing to be done but suck it up and dive right in.

What does a comma represent in speech? Yes, you, in the front row with the bow tie? Right…a pause. Unfortunately, most people don’t talk no more betterer than they write. Most writers toss commas into their writing like rednecks toss Uncle Ben’s at a trailer park wedding. This will not do!

Comma rule number one: Joining independent clauses and verb phrases with a coordinating conjunction. Hey, wake up! This is important!

An independent clause is a group of words that contains a subject and verb and expresses a complete thought. This is commonly called a sentence.

Example: Eddie wore a pair of white pumps.

A verb phrase is a group of related words that does not include a subject.

Example: sported a rhinestone necklace.

A verb phrase usually follows an independent clause and “borrows” the clause’s subject, like so:

Eddie wore a pair of white pumps and sported a rhinestone necklace.

Here’s the common mistake: Most writers drop a comma in between “pumps” and “and.” WRONG! If whatever follows a coordinating conjunction (and, but, or, yet, so, etc.) has no subject, do not use a comma before the conjunction. Let it be written. Let it be done.

Now: if you turned the verb phrase into an independent clause by adding a subject, THEN you separate with a comma, like so:

Eddie wore a pair of white pumps, and he sported a rhinestone necklace.

Think of it like this: your verb phrase depends on the independent clause for life support (i.e., its subject). The comma cuts off the phrase from that life support, and it dies a writhing, painful death.

Conversely, when you’ve got two independent clauses, each having its very own subject and verb, imagine yourself as the bartender in a biker bar — the conjunction, if you will. Now imagine your independent clauses as two very large, very angry bikers, one a Hell’s Angel, the other a Son of Silence. Now, the comma is the tire iron you keep stowed behind the bar. You’ve got to insert that comma between the first independent clause (the Hell’s Angel) and the conjunction (you), because that little comma is the only thing that stands between you and a full-tilt-boogie tavern brawl.

Can you see it? Remember it as if your life depended on it, because someday, it just might. Metaphorically speaking, that is.

More plurals

You are getting vee-e-ery sleeeeeepy....

Before we can move on, I need to amend the post concerning the pluralization of proper nouns (i.e., names) that end in the letter “y.” I got questions like “But Conan, what about words that end in ‘i’ or ‘o’? What about a noun that ain’t so proper, like ‘attorney’? What then, o Great Grammar Genie?”

Okay, folks, listen up. Same rule we discussed last month applies — apostrophe  s renders the noun, proper or otherwise, possessive. So it’s not “two attorney’s walked into a bar” but “two attorneys.”

It’s not “I had two Eggo’s for breakfast” but “two Eggos.”

Not “Dave drank ten chocolate martini’s” but “martinis.”

It’s the same thing we talked about before — placing an “s” after an “i” makes you want to pronounce it with a short “i” — mar – tin – is. In the case of both “i” and “o,” you desperately want to prop up these lonely, meek vowels with an “e,” don’t you? Now, I know your motives are pure — because that’s what you do with many nouns ending in “o” to make them plural:

potato(es)
echo(es)
hero(es)
tomato(es)

But plenty of others you don’t:

pianos
solos
cellos
studios
stereos

And in the case of words ending in “i,” you never add an “e”:

broccoli
zucchini
spaghetti
salami
safari
tsunami
ski
alibi

(Interesting, isn’t it? I can’t come up with any English nouns that end in “i” –all of the above are in languages other than Limey.)

As a special bonus, below is a list of other things people get confused about when it comes to plurals:

1900s (not 1900’s)
’70s (not 70’s)
PDAs (not PDA’s)
PCs (not PC’s)
ISPs (not ISP’s)
CDs (not CD’s)
DVDs (not DVD’s)

When in doubt, dear friends, consult your dictionary (no, really!) But never, NEVER use apostrophe  s. Or I will hunt you down with my Red Pen of Wrath and make you pay, do you hear me?