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Category Archives: Word Usage

Trooper or Trouper?

Super Trouper

Super Trooper?

Ever wonder why the ABBA song is called “Super Trouper”? Shouldn’t it be spelled “trooper”? Spellcheck won’t help you here, because we’re talking about two different words.

A trouper is someone who keeps going under difficult circumstances without complaint. The word comes from a theatre troupe and suggests a the-show-must-go-on attitude.

A trooper is a member of a military troop. You might look to such a person for inventive swear words, but not cheerful smiles and a can-do attitude. (The same word gives us a crowd of people trooping from one place to another; that is, moving together in the same direction, as in a military manoeuvre.)

  • Get enough sherry into Great Aunt Lavinia and she starts swearing like a trooper and poking people with her cane.
  • Everything that could go wrong during the balloon expedition, short of fatal accident, did; but Edith was a real trouper, helping the pilot spill the ballast and keeping the passengers’ spirits up with a rousing sing-along.
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Grammar’s Hall of Shame: Common Errors

Adam and Eve expelled

The Shame of Bad Grammar

The following expressions pop up often, but that doesn’t change the fact that they’re wrong, wrong, wrong! Learn their corrections and you’ll be able to float above the ignorant masses on a cloud of grammatical unimpeachableness.

Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep

Many people don’t realize that lie and lay are two different verbs. Lying is something you do; laying is something you do to something (or someone). You can lie in bed all day, lie on the beach, or lie low; or you can lay a book on the desk, lay carpet, or lay an egg.

So why all the confusion? Because of the sheer ass-backwards nature of the English language, the past tense of lie is lay. Now you lie in the arms of your beloved; yesterday you lay in his arms. The past tense of the verb lay, on the other hand, is laid: now you lay down your burdens, but yesterday you laid them down. The past participle (that’s when the verb follows have, had, or will have) of lie is lain: I had just lain down for a nap when I noticed the smell. The past participle of lay is laid: I discovered my cat had laid a dead mouse on the pillow.

Got it? If not, you’re not alone. But these examples should help:

Lie (Something You Do)

  • Now: This is where we lie in wait for the politician, ready to discharge our cans of spray cheese when he comes around the corner.
  • Then: This was where we lay in wait for the politician, ready to discharge our cans of spray cheese when he came around the corner.
  • With have: We have lain in wait for him many times, but so far he has evaded our righteous rain of cheese.

Lay (Something You Do to Something or Someone)

  • Now: The vampire lays his unconscious victim on the divan and arranges her hair so it spills fetchingly across the cushions.
  • Then: The vampire laid his unconscious victim on the divan and arranged her hair so it spilled fetchingly across the cushions.
  • With have: This vampire has laid many a local lass on his divan. (I mean he put them down—get your minds out of the gutter!)

And please don’t say you’re going to lay low—you can lie low, but lay low is something you did in the past:

  • I’m going to lie low until the Apocalypse is over.
  • Last year I lay low until everyone had forgotten my embarrassing faux pas.

You may come across a reference to someone being laid low. In this case, the person has been laid low by something (an illness, say). Since the illness is doing the action to someone, the correct verb is lay:

  • She was laid low by a combination of alcohol and roller derby. (Alcohol and roller derby laid her low.)

Just Between You and I

People often use this construction when they want to sound posh, but the correct phrase is “just between you and me.” The test is to remove the other person and try the sentence with just I or me:

  • Jules and I are far too busy to attend your orgy. (I am far too busy.)
  • The instructions for infiltrating the cell were sent to Dmitri and me. (They were sent to me.)

This kind of mistake is called a hypercorrection. It’s what happens when you’re so anxious not to slip up, you overshoot the mark and end up mangling your grammar in an effort to sound clever.

Whom May I Say Is Calling?

The classic example of a hypercorrection is the well-known scene in which a butler picks up the phone and snootily asks, “Whom may I say is calling?” As any butler worth his bow tie knows, the correct question is “Who may I say is calling?” How can you tell? The simplest method is to rearrange the sentence, starting with the word after who/whom, then substitute he or him for the tricky whom. If he works better, the word you want is who; if him sounds right, you want whom. (If you want to get technical, he and who are subjects, while him and whom are objects—they receive the action of the verb.)

(Who/Whom) may I say is calling?

  1. Rearrange: May I say (who/whom) is calling?
  2. Swap: May I say (he/him) is calling?
  3. You would never ask, “May I say him is calling?” so who is the correct choice.

From among the many yodelling candidates, I chose the one (who/whom) I thought was most limber.

  1. Rearrange: I thought (who/whom) was most limber.
  2. Swap: I thought (he/him) was most limber. (He works best.)
  3. Answer: From among the many yodelling candidates, I chose the one who I thought was most limber.

(Who/Whom) did you choose to take to the herpetologists’ convention?

  1. Did you choose (who/whom) to take to the herpetologists’ convention?
  2. Did you choose (he/him) to take to the herpetologists’ convention?
  3. Answer: Whom did you choose to take to the herpetologists’ convention?

If you still feel uncomfortable with whom, don’t worry: it’s perfectly acceptable to jettison it altogether in favour of a universal who. These days the only people who persist in using whom are grammarians, anal-retentives, and butlers.

Would of, Could of, Should of

It may sound like “I should of known,” but this expression actually contains a contraction of should have—should’ve. Just as in can’t (cannot) and don’t (do not), the apostrophe is a reminder of absent letters that have moved on to better things:

Would’ve = would have

Could’ve = could have

Should’ve = should have

  • Wrong: I would of tackled the Daleks single-handedly, but my sonic screwdriver was running low on batteries.
  • Right: I would’ve tackled the Daleks single-handedly, but my sonic screwdriver was running low on batteries.

The same principle applies to the word y’all. You may for some mysterious reason feel the urge to write ya’ll, but remember that the word is a contraction of you all, so the apostrophe falls into the place of the missing letters:

  • Wrong: Do ya’ll serve grits here?
  • Right: Do y’all serve grits here?

You can find more about apostrophes and contractions in Apostrophes and How to Use ’Em.

It’s Raining Homonyms

Hiroshige

Rain of Terror

The words rein and reign sometimes get swapped by mistake. Reins control a horse, so you want rein for expressions having to do with control or restraint: rein in, give free rein. To reign is to rule, so use reign when you’re talking about dominance: reign of terror, reign supreme.

  • Try to rein in your anarchist tendencies during the tea party.
  • She gave her decorator free rein and ended up with a rococo bathroom, complete with flushing cherubs.
  • Long after the sheep’s reign of terror had ended, the farmer still flinched at the faintest “baa.”

Straight and Narrow

Strait (a narrow channel between two bodies of water) is often wrongfully neglected in favour of its more familiar cousin, straight. But strait is the word you want for straitlaced, straitjacket, dire straits, and straitened circumstances. Just remember that strait relates to everything narrow or constrained: a corset laced very tightly, a garment used to restrain patients, or a tight spot.

Straight, on the other hand, suggests a lack of deviation: a straight line, straight to the point, straight-shooting, etc. Straight also implies honesty—no detours from the truth.

  • Straitlaced men were like catnip to the succubus.
  • The straitjacket was nothing to Houdini, but the bubble gum stymied him.
  • Give it to me straight, Joe: do I make you hungry?

The Literal Truth

Some people (you know who you are) use the word literally all wrong. They trot it out to add oomph to their pronouncements, not realizing it was born for a completely different role. To say you mean something literally is to swear off metaphors, figures of speech, exaggerations, and other flights of fancy. You’re declaring that you mean exactly what you say—no more, no less.

If you complain that you’re literally starving, then your body has begun to consume its internal organs. If you announce that you’re literally walking on air, expect a visit from the Department of Defence. Literally asks for your words to be taken at face value, as if read by an unimaginative robot. It’s a highly specialized word, and the only time you’re likely to need it is when your reader might think you’re being fanciful and you want to assure them you’re not:

  • At the height of her anorexia disorder, she was literally starving herself to death.
  • Without evildoers to catch, Spiderman found himself literally climbing the walls with boredom.
  • My boss shouted himself into such a rage he was literally foaming at the mouth; some of us were hit by flying spittle.

When you find yourself about to pull out literally, think twice. Maybe you meant to reach for its cousin totally instead. A careful use of literally will save you the embarrassment of describing yourself as literally boiling mad (you’re a lobster?) or literally dead on your feet (you’re a zombie) or literally shit-faced (doesn’t bear thinking about).