Formal Literacy: A Moving Target

Yet another example of why formal literacy is an always moving target, something one can strive for for a lifetime but only approach: I just discovered “Noctes Atticae” — “Attic Nights” — (“Attic” here referring to the nature of the tales contained in the 2nd Century volume of fables, since they were or were based on old Grecian folk tales, fables, and myths). It’s a good example of the “holes and gaps, lacks and losses, absences, silences, impalpabilities and the like” in my own literacy. Specifically, I was reminded last night of the fable of “Androcles and the Lion” (similar in plot and moral to Aesop’s “The Lion and the Mouse”), but I did not know until I reviewed the fable today that the first known statement of the fable was in Aulus Gellius’s “Noctes Atticus.”

Now, I feel a need to read Gellius’s collection to see that else I have missed. Unfortunately, since I only have the little Latin I have gleaned through other readings and via interpolations from other languages largely derived from Latin, I’ll be best served to read one of the available translations. *shrugs* I don’t think I can effectively manage to shoehorn Latin lessons into my “scattergun” autodidact program, now.

I’ll never have read enough to achieve formal literacy that satisfies me. . . or, it seems, closely approximates the literacy of some I have known.

Searching and Striving for Literacy in an A-literate World

I recognize general categories of literacy and illiteracy that differ, or really expand upon, the generally accepted definitions. For example, in addition to the generally accepted definition of literacy that really only defines a bare functional literacy that can laboriously decode those funny lil squiggles we call writing, material literacy (which includes a small degree of comprehension of what those decoded squiggles mean), and formal literacy (which is able to place basic meanings within cultural, historical, and disciplinary contexts, as well as make meaningful interpretations of text and relate texts read to a wide array of other texts one has read, then reason from the information thus gained) are also important. Note: Despite the very mild complexity of construction of the preceding sentence, any _materially literate_ person would have no problem parsing it (which means that probably more than 80% of adults in the US today got lost halfway through the first parenthetical comment).

Illiteracy, too, has types. One, which I first saw referred to by Robert Heinlein, is subliteracy–always, in my experience, simply the result of laziness. Subliterates are quite often proud of their poor literacy, and think they are much more literate than they are, which results nowadays in whole ravening packs of “Indie” writers savaging the English language, because they actually do know so very much that just ain’t so, and their vocabulary, grammar, and spelling demonstrate their vast ignorance, because they “don’t need” (and probably couldn’t find anyway) a literate editor or even proofreader.

The worst literacy affliction is one that feeds subliteracy: a-literacy. It is really no use to be able to decode those funny lil squiggles (functional literacy) if one just doesn’t bother to read anyway–or just doesn’t bother to read anything written by someone who isn’t dumber than a bag of hammers. As Twain said, “The man who does not read has no advantage over the man who cannot read.” In fact, one who can read but does not may well be worse off, IMO.

Is it any wonder, then, that the Mass MEdia Podpeople Hivemind fools so very many people so much of the time?


BTW, I’m still striving for a formal literacy that approaches that of some of my Heroes of the Mind, such as my paternal grandfather who had reams of poetry embedded in his memory, or a dear old saint I once knew who memorized the New Testament–yes, the whole thing. I ain’t anywhere near the literacy either of those attained, but it’s remarkably interesting to pursue such a level of literacy.


Examples? Millions of ’em. . . Writers who cannot visualize the action they write are among the worst. (A lack of vision, I have found, is quite often closely linked to other lazy writing behaviors.)

For example, “He spun on his heel. . . ” (and walked away, apparently, having barely avoided falling flat on his face from executing such an awkward maneuver). Why do people write such a stupid phrase? Go ahead and give it a try. Spin on your heel and walk away from [whatever, whomever]. Awkward, isn’t it? Typically, one performs a “spin turn” on the ball of one’s foot, because that ISN’T awkward.

But no, some folks write stuff just because they’ve seen other lame brains write it and think it looks/sounds cool. (Usually, these seem to be “writers” whose basic grasp of English is exceedingly weak–most would write “week” there, I suppose *sigh*)–and whose vocabulary and grammar is stuck on the “overweening* and completely undeserved confidence” point of the Dunning-Kruger Curve.

Oh, and a wee lil FYI for ya: whenever you see a published work of ANY kind in it where the writer includes “alright,” you can pretty much bet the farm that the book will be littered with misused words, execrable grammar, inconsistencies that make mockery of any kind of reason, and more. It really is a pretty good indicator.


*Yes, this is not a widely used word, but any reader here is just not a normal reader, so I have no problem using words that are beyond the ken of the illiterate hoi polloi. *heh*

Exception Testing the Rule

“She drug [sic] her broken foot along. . . ”

Finally a misuse of “drug” to indicate a past tense of “drag” that, though still not literate, is at least understandable. After all, it refers to a zombie, and, as we all know, only illiterate, brain-dead zombies misuse “drug” when “dragged” is called for.

“Alright” Is NOT All Right

I know I have already said things like this before, but whether you are all ready to read it again or not, here is is again. All together now, repeat after me: “Alright is altogether all wrong.”

OK, I will make an exception. If a writer seriously wants to indicate that he is faux literate and does not want me to purchase his book or lend him my “eye time,” then he should go ahead and use “alright.”

That is all.

No, it’s not. Completely unrelated sidebar: Brit writers who set a story in the US? Stop referring to the second floor of a building as the first floor. Do that for stories set in “BrE-land.” Give “boot” the boot unless you are referring to footwear or kicking something. And for the sake of all things linguistic, learn how to express the subjunctive mood!

NOW that is all. For now.

*grumble-grumble-gripe-complain*


BTW, it’s not just me.

https://www.writersdigest.com/online-editor/alright-vs-all-right

And there are more such worthy commentaries. Many, many more. And a few quislings who are perfectly happy to sully the English language with such despicable monstrosities as “alright.” And yeh, James Joyce apparently used “alright.” Once. That only condemns his “suckitudinous” writing even more. (That he used “all right” the rest of the time does not excuse the shitty nature of his books.)

“Grammar Nazi”

“Grammar Nazi” is a term widely used by illiterates in an attempt to demean those who appreciate good speech and writing. It is used by people who do not know–and do not care–what the meanings of the words are.

Grammar “is simply the collection of principles defining how to put together a sentence.” It is the structure–more the internal logic of the structure–of a language. It is not spelling or word meanings or the like; those are the separate issues of orthographic representation of phonemes, and semantics or meaning (the whole reason for language to exist–the transmission of meaning in a clear, comprehendable format).

However, those who reject good grammar also usually reject clear communication in text via orthographic reproductions of phonemes (AKA, “good spelling”), and useful distinctions between words (semantics, or meaning), thus demonstrating that their committment to poor reasoning extends to a committment to poor, fuzzy (or non-existent) reasoning.

Marshall McLuhan was someone whose work I might generally dismiss as, in large part, “academic twinkletoes” bushwah, but I have to admit some of his intellectual BS made some sense (blind pig, and all that). One of his assertions (in Understanding Media, IIRC, though it’s been 45 years since I read his work, and it might well have been in another) was that simply reading the written word (in English, though I believe it works in many other languages, as well, from my own experience) teaches inferential or logical thought–both strict logic,deduction, and induction, as well. The reasons for this seem to center not so much around the semantic content as simply around the structure. . . the grammar.

N.B. The below is more or less a stream of consciousness piece, a rant if you will. So, FWIW, here it is:


Good grammar = sound structure = the internal logic inherent in putting together a sentence that–at the least–has even the remote possibility of making sense. (The rest of the responsibility of “making sense” lies with selecting and using words that can convey the meaning one wishes to convey.)

Here’s an exceptionally minor example of syntax–the essence of grammar at its least form–changing the meaning of a sentence. Note the difference in meaning between:

“the internal logic inherent in putting together a sentence that . . .has even the remote possibility of making sense.”

vs

“the internal logic inherent in putting together a sentence that . . .even has the remote possibility of making sense.”

A minor change in syntax changes the meaning of the words, at least for the careful reader.

And syntax is only one element of good grammar.

Learning the logic of a language, the orthography of a language, and its content (word meanings plus structure of sentences, plus context) and then attempting to reproduce these elements clearly and unambiguously is not a trivial task, nevertheless, it is one that countless folks have accomplished for millennia.

Until the Internet, where doing so is derided by lazy-assed know-nothings who are proud of their ignorance and laziness, and would prefer to demean those who make an effort to use their language well, especially if they should happen to point out that the know-nothing tyrants are wearing no clothes.

Hmmm, Addicted Much?

The printed page is my chief addiction (well, apart from procrastination, I suppose *heh*). Sample: a “My Books” filter at Baen results in nineteen pages at 20 ebooks per page, plus another page of eleven ebooks. Three hundred and ninety-one ebooks at a site where I purchase books maybe a couple of times a year.

Amazon’s listings of my ebook purchases run to the “many more than a few”. . . thousands.

Gutenberg doesn’t have a way to track all the books I’ve downloaded from its site, but I started there with a set of optical disks that–at the time–had everything Gutenberg offered (haven’t yet gotten all the way through that collection, and probably won’t, since some of the offerings are not necessarily to my taste).

And then there is my print collection, which beggars all the ebooks combined.

Yeh, the printed page is a trap for me. Ah, well. It could be worse. I could be addicted to Mass MEdia Podpeople Hivemind *cough* “news” *cough*.

One of the Problems with the Internet. . .

Is that, apparently, something like 90% of the folks who use it have never read a book written by someone who is actually literate, or if they have didn’t understand any of the words, including “a,” “and,” and “the.”

Is that all? Well, no. Both my readers (*heh*) know by now that I can’t leave well enough alone, so. . .

Shining is toooooo haaaard for some folks. He shined his shoes. He shined a light. The light shone.

Drinking is hard, too. Drink, drank, drunk, NOT “I drink, I drank, I have drank.”

He hung a picture, but later he hanged by the neck (until dead, as the expression goes).

None of these–and many, many more–are any problem at all for anyone who even approaches literacy in English. . . which is why so many verbs are conjugated wrong every day on social media, in emails, and in articles written by “professional journalists.”

But that’s OK, because the perpetrators feel competent to “express” themselves in English.

The Difference Between “Uffda” and “Feeda”

Uffda and feeda are two words commonly used by folks of Norwegian extraction, and while they have some similarities in meaning, the differences were graphically illustrated for me in the summer of 1978, when I visited my Wonder Woman’s family in Minnesota for the first time. One afternoon, while there, my Wonder Woman’s sibs took us to see “Grease” at a local movie theater. The movie was OK, but the highlight of the day came as we exited the theater and made our way toward the car. A couple of guys were walking in front of us, and one of them pointed at some gum on the ground and said, “Uffda!” The other guy didn’t see it in time, stepped in it, lifted his foot and looked at the gum on his shoe and disgustedly said, “Feeda!”

So there you have it. If one merely _sees_ something unpleasant, the proper expression is “Uffda!” But if one _steps_ in it. . .

YW. ๐Ÿ™‚

Make This New Year’s Resolution. New Worlds Await You.

I don’t care what your beliefs are (well, I do, but it’s not a necessary component of this comment), read The Bible this year. You will not find a better collection of great literature with more influence on the formation of Western Civilization. Even absent assent to its premise and assertions about the nature of the universe, mankind, and our reason for being, Santayana’s Axiom applies: reading it even as just an historical document is important. One cannot even grasp whence we came (and hence, where we are) without reading it, so if for no other reason, read it for that. (But wait! There’s more. . . ๐Ÿ™‚ )

N.B. I use “reading” here to mean more than just “decode those funny lil squiggles into words.” Sadly, that is what many nowadays seem to view as the sum total of literacy. No, really reading something means to comprehend the meanings of the words, wrestle with them, engage in the Great Dialog with whomever wrote the text. This applies to reading anything, yes, even want ads. (Note also that I have borrowed “the Great Dialog” from Mortimer Adler’s introduction to “The Great Books of the Western World,” a collection that does not include The Bible only because, as he said, it was expected that everyone would have one of their own. The study guide–the “Syntopicon”–included with the set does)

Oh, and as a sidebar, and to actually aid in comprehension and the Great Dialog, when reading The Bible, I suggest using the King James Version precisely because of ots archaic language. It will make it more work (for some) to have to actually work through the archaic elements, and working at understanding is the first step to better reading comprehension of the text. Go ahead and give it a try. After a while, as actual accomplishment ensues, the work in and of itself will become enjoyable. Yes, it will take discipline and persistence, but practicing those virtues will also be rewarding.

If You Enjoy Writing Scathing Reviews of Crap

Just look for “gimmes” from wannabe writers on Amazon.1

Yeh, I’m just a wee tad irked with the “self-pub” wannabe writers who

a. Don’t bother to learn English (though it’s their native tongue)
b. Think characterization is accomplished by listing all the name-brand products a character uses, and describing the character by just saying what dim-witted celebrity the character resembles
c. Doesn’t bother to read their own text, and so commits multiple errors of continuity at the speed of light
d. And then packs all this wonderfulness into 100 pages (or, sometimes even worse, 200) of a “novelette lite” and calls it a “novel.” *sigh* “Novelette Lite” even with padding the word count with useless crap like, “. . .in which case he would probably be stuck out here for the rest of his life, however brief a period that turned out to be.” No. DELE “a period.” Wasted electrons. (*sigh* Rather like this whole post, eh? *heh*)

Fortunately, I only actually read through about one of these a week, because I reject the absolute worst of them within the first page of text. The “survivors” often get eviscerated in reviews, though I only note ten or so (and when I’m feeling generous, sometimes fewer) of the worst examples of text that would gag a maggot.

Yes, it got worse in the book I picked to pick on here. Because of certain external factors (namely a recommendation from someone whose recommendations are often on target), I stuck it out with the book the above example came from–through even more garbage–until,

“. . .the slug had been fired from a large-caliber handgun, probably a .45. . . He knew that such projectiles traveled at a high velocity, faster than the speed of sound. . . ”

Urm, no. A good rule of thumb for speed of sound, at sea level, under ideal conditions, is ~1,125fps. Not even a .45ACP+P with a light bullet weight of only 185gr travels that fast (max out at ~1,000fps muzzle velocity), and given the circumstances in the scene, I _seriously_ doubt the writer was referring to (or is even aware of) the .45 Colt (often called “Long Colt”) cartridge or the firearms it is used in, and even then, if he were, he’d have to have been talking about a +P load.

Sorry. When a writer just keeps spreading The Stupid, the book should be relegated to the scrub pile.


1Do note that I keep on “buying” freebie Indie pub books because I have thereby found a few really excellent writers whose other work I end up buying and reading, and not just writers of fiction. I’ve not yet found any good poets that way, but hope springs eternal.