In discussing communication with a friend, a counterpart, from another newspaper, I learned that the content of the paper is what you say, whereas the typography — type fonts, sizes, styles, etc. — is how you say it.
Well, that’s brilliant. In many years in this business, I’d never thought of it that way. Any article, even one about something dull, has its own content, but if spiced up with flashy headlines, it becomes something else.
That led to the question of “It’s not what you say, but how you say it.” We can say “I love you” in such a sneering, venomous way that the lovee has no choice but to say, “It’s not what you say, but …” By the same token, we can say anything in a kind way and get a conflicting message across. Tone of voice counts. And it works with animals as well — maybe even better.
We tried this with my son Diego’s Rhodesian ridgeback, Zeus: Instead of “Here, nice puppy,” we called him a cow but said it sweetly, whereupon he transferred himself from the carpet to my lap. Try it sometime, but preferably with a dog weighing less than 75 pounds.
Back to people:
How else can a person say things? A Highlands administrator once sent a newsletter to the faculty. It had been produced (by mimeograph, not Xerox or laser printing) by a couple of secretaries whose manicures probably were ruined by the vast quantities of ink that coursed through the stencils.
The administrator was obviously appreciative of the staff’s efforts and thereby plugged the workers. He wrote, “You have my secretaries to thank for the newsletter.”
But w-a-i-t a second: the clause “You have my secretaries to thank” almost sounds sarcastic, in the same vein that one might say, “If it weren’t for you” or “You’re so helpful, Art.”
It’s difficult to gum these words together to make the praise seem genuine.
So, how else can a person say it?
One solution is simply to say, “I thank them.” Or, a more prolix way, employed by many a Mil Gracias contributor, is to write, “At this time I would like to take this opportunity to thank my secretaries.”
“You have them to thank” — no matter how it’s expressed — almost demands some kind of absolution, as if the writer or speaker were to punctuate the words with, “Don’t blame me. They’re the ones who did it.”
The pesky word is “have,” which gives the statement a bossy tone. Remember how you bristled when some store clerk said, “You’ll have to talk to the manager” after you got overcharged? “You’ll have to …” clearly shows the speaker has no intention of running interference for the customer.
Suppose the only solution is to talk to the manager, but without meaning to sound bossy, can we convey the same message without “you’ll have to”? We can say, “In order to get a refund, it may be necessary for you to speak with the manager.” That eliminates “have” but replaces it with “it may be necessary …” But that’s pedantic! You’ll have to wait for a future column to get the final chapter.
Words all have a connotation, a meaning suggested or implied, as opposed to their denotation, the literal definition. But with the previous examples, what the words denote or connote becomes fuzzy.
Some words and phrases just don’t lend themselves to anything short of vitriol. Anyone who starts a conversation with “You people …” knows how difficult it is to extricate himself from an awkward, even offensive exchange. “You people” too often precedes something like “give this town a bad name” or “with such attitudes are letting the terrorists win.”
Often, immediately after “You people” gets uttered, the reply becomes “And what exactly do you mean by ‘you people’?”
Just as problematic is the use of the word “ilk,” which I contend cannot be uttered in a complimentary sense. Usually we come across “ilk” in advice-to-the-lovelorn columns written by those who also use “the likes of you.” One online source even suggests that back in the olden days of linguistic lore, “ilk” and “likes” were the same word.
Let me explain. The only way one can use “ilk” or “likes” is in putting down a group or class of people. For example, we find “ilk” fitting comfortably in the following sentence: “People of your ilk are used to dishing out insults.” Or, “I prefer to avoid the likes of you.”
There is no way anyone would ever say, “I enjoy the likes of you” or “I really dig people of your ilk.” Don’t look for it; it won’t ever appear.
An online reference, Dictionary. com, defines “ilk” simply as a Middle English word for “family, class or kind,” and gives the example of “He and all his ilk.”
As neutral as the dictionary appears, the examples it uses are, “Can’t trust people of that ilk,” “We’ll not see his like again” and “I can’t tolerate people of his ilk.”
In the New Mexican last week, there were two letters to the editor criticizing Gov. Richardson’s close relationship with Ted Nugent, guitarist, arch-conservative and fiendish hunting advocate.
One person wrote, in part, “Our beautiful wilderness and its inhabitants are too precious to turn over to this sadistic degenerate and his ilk.”
Another person wrote, in an equally uncomplimentary way, “What an act of immorality and depravity to allow someone the likes of Ted Nugent to grace our fair state with the intent to slaughter animals for the sake of entertainment.”
Words represent only what we allow them to. Many times I’ve stressed in this space that venom and rancor don’t simply inhere in words, and the arbitrary “definition” we give words often gets assigned randomly.
But there’s no need to explain further because you people — of that ilk — understand anyway.
• • •
The Journal last week ran a front-page story headlined “1 in 4 teens have STD.”
Well, immediately a battery of no-fun-allowed grammarians called and wrote to criticize the Journal for not using “has” instead of “have.” Harry Moskos of the Journal staff clarified the issue by saying that some sources allow “have” when referring to large numbers. It’s not as if only one teen has an STD and three do not. We’re talking about millions of kids.
My students asked me which is correct: has or have. My reply: “I’m an English and journalism teacher. You’ll have to ask a math teacher.”