OUT OF POCKET: “of, pertaining to or requiring a cash expenditure: out of pocket expenses… [alternately] suffering from a financial loss: even after our payment, he is still out of pocket.” — New Oxford American Dictionary

In a few days, the Lexicide staff will be out of pocket for the Christmas holiday. Did you get that?

Sure you did. You understood that we’ve leveraged our corporate checking account to pay for all these gifts. Or perhaps the boss decided these expenses are not reimbursable, so we must pay for the gifts ourselves — i.e., with money out of our own pockets.

How out of pocket came to mean “unavailable” or “incommunicado” is an easy deduction. Boss schedules sales guy (or gal) to go on an out of pocket trip. Sales dude (or dudette) grouses to everyone about how he (or she) is out of pocket for the next week. Salesperson of indeterminate gender has inadvertently committed lexicide. Now you can be out of pocket even while on an expense account.

And who doesn’t want to be both unreachable and also holding the company Amex? Especially at this time of year? Merry Christmas, everyone. May your words be merry and right.

— Otto E. Mezzo

A reader (who also happens to be an English teacher) writes:

Is there any reason… for people to use the word “egress,” other than to prove that they CAN? What other words automatically brand a speaker or writer as trying too damned hard?

Reader Teacher has hit upon the unfortunate genesis of so many lexicides. Call it compensation, pretense or evasion, in the end it just comes down to “trying too damn hard.” So to answer the question, here are my (least) favorite “trying too damn hard” words and phrases:

Vis-à-vis — Use “regarding,” or better yet, restructure your sentence. (“We need to analyze our conversion rates” reads better than “We need to analyze reporting vis-à-vis conversion rates.”)

Strategize — Just plan instead.

At a high rate of speed — You mean “fast?”

At the present time — Now.

On a daily basis — First, second, and fourth words: completely superfluous.

Superfluous — Okay, okay…

Obligate — Oblige! Oblige!

Time horizon — Wasn’t this a straight-to-VHS sci-fi movie?

One of several attorneys general — Okay, we get it. You know the proper plural for attorney general, even though you’re just referring to a single one. We’re happy you understand the Norman origins of the term. Now go away.

Grand Guignol — Critics like to throw this term around to “elevate” spatter films to high art. The only problem is The Grand Guignol did not traffic in high art. It offered — well, splatter shows in the Pigalle neighborhood of Paris (the same area that hosts the Moulin Rouge, if that gives you some idea of the competition). But what the heck — it’s French!

In contradistinction to — I confess, this is my big “trying too damn hard” habit. I don’t know where I picked it up. I may have watched one too many BBC costume dramas.

Any foreign spelling or pronunciation — No American is allowed to write colour, kerb or tyre (unless you’re writing for a Commonwealth audience). No American is allowed to pronounce garage, advertisement or valet the English way, either (and besides, the American way is closer to the French origin, if you must be snooty). If you live in California, you will not pull into a car park when your gear box gives out on the motorway. Ever. (Same applies to Commonwealth blokes, but in reverse.)

Any others?

— Otto E. Mezzo

The Lexicide staff was discussing our upcoming high school class reunion.

Otto remarked, “I predict the bios of most of our classmates would read like the first half of a Nick Hornby book, but only the first half.” Lex responded, “And the irony is, the soundtrack would be Bruce Hornsby.”

!!!

An editor of Lexicide.com using irony incorrectly? That’s ironic!

But seriously, there really should be a word for an amusing coincidence like the one above — or the kind you read about on IMDb’s trivia pages. What other wordless definitions deserve words of their own?

SOCIALISM: “…an economic system in which the means of production are either state owned or commonly owned and controlled cooperatively; or a political philosophy advocating such a system.” —Wikipedia entry for Socialism

Lexicide does not do politics. We prefer to annoy everyone, regardless of worldview. However, Lexicide is all about being current, and our drill-down of socialism is only about three years late.

The accusations of socialism — leveled against  everyone from Bill Clinton to Richard Nixon — pre-date the 2008 United States election (obvious, yes, but we’re talking about a media-obsessed nation with the attention span of a puppy on meth). Since then, conservatives, especially the fiscal conservatives and libertarians of the Tea Party movement, have sounded the socialist klaxon with regularity. My favorite (from a September 4 Politico article):

Romney’s supporters couldn’t have been more out of place at an event festooned with characters such as former Nevada Senate candidate Sharron Angle and the blunt symbols of the tea party movement — images of one stick figure shooting another under the heading “socialism” and of an automatic weapon with the legend, “Come and Get It.”

The trouble is, socialism does not necessarily involve a police state or high taxes. What decriers of socialism intend is to evoke the spectre of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, although not always. Sarah Palin’s PAC chief fretted that “someone must save our nation from this road to European socialism.” That statement is slightly more accurate. But let’s be clear. Socialism describes a political situation where the state controls factories, farms and other economic institutions. It does not require higher taxes (the U.S. has the second highest corporate tax rate in the world, while extreme socialist nations Norway and Sweden rank 14th and 15th, respectively). It does not demand the dissolution of gun ownership (Australia has accomplished that without socialism). Socialism apparently does not even muzzle the press, as three Scandanavian countries top the Reports Without Borders Press Freedom Index.

I think most opponents of “socialism” are really more wary of totalitarianism, which Wikipedia describes as “…a political system where the state recognizes no limits to its authority and strives to regulate every aspect of public and private life wherever feasible.” By definition, a totalitarian state cannot be one in which free enterprise thrives. It is one in which the government controls the totality of your living — everything from what foods you can eat to what kinds of health care you get. I don’t imagine many of President Obama’s critics will make the switch, however. Considering totalitarianism’s record, the criticism would come off as unduly harsh. But if they’re truly concerned that America is the frog in the slowly boiling pot, maybe they should take the leap. It may be political suicide, but at least it would be more precise.

— Otto E. Mezzo

Our first lexicide entry was verbiage, followed by leverage, penultimate and enormity. Among our latest entries are bemused, exemplar and holistic. What’s the difference between these sets? The first array consists of words whose meanings get twisted due to constant misuse. In the second set, the words are similar to other, more common words. The less common word appropriates the meaning of the common (and shorter) word, and American Anglophones lose a word. Call the city lexicide squad.

Bemused | Continuum | Differential | Duplicitous | Exemplar | Fortuitous | Fulsome | Guise | Holistic | Minimalist | Schema | Simplistic | Stagnant | Thematic

Now you can argue that verbiage sounds like verbal and enormity sounds like enormous, but there is no noun that means and looks similar to verbiage, and enormousness is so inelegant it doesn’t exist in most people’s vocabulary. On the other hand, everyone knows the words amused, continuation, difference, duplicate, example, fortunate, full, guidance, whole, minimal, scheme, simple, static and theme, which are the correct words to use instead of the ones listed above. Folks just choose to tack a few extra letters on and sound more learned. Except they don’t.

Why do I belabor this point? After all, the lexicidal process is the same — people see or hear a word, assume it means the same as a similar word and start using it accordingly. Lexicide’s detractors — those who sniff at our haughty insistence on correct usage — defend this process as natural discourse analysis.

If that’s the case, why don’t people confuse:

stimulate for simulate

emergency for emergence

propositioning for proposing

communicable (think deliverable) for communication?

Something to think about. On second thought, don’t think too hard.

— Otto E. Mezzo

Subway Slides: HIK Ontwerpers Gives City Commuters a Post-Transit Thrill

July 24, 2011

“The engineers at Dutch design firm HIK Ontwerpers clearly know how boring, stressful and generally uncomfortable commuting can be. Why not inject some childish bemusement into the whole process?”

If the “subway slides” (a fantastic idea, if you ask me) are meant to “puzzle, confuse or bewilder” commuters, then the writer of this article is spot on. For that is the definition of bemuse, according to the New Oxford English Dictionary. Bemusement is not the same as amusement, even though (here it comes) they sound and look the same.

On the other hand, a bemusement park sounds like a great idea. It could be where bad writers spend eternity stymied by turnstiles that go the wrong way and cattle chutes that get you tantalizingly close to the rides — yet somehow never reach them.

— Otto E. Mezzo

The BBC News Magazine asked their readers for their favorite “Americanisms.” As published in “Americanisms: 50 of your most noted examples,” the examples range from the hilarious to the sobering to the nitpicky (Sor-ree if we pronounce words differently). Here is my favorite excerpt:

I hate “alternate” for “alternative”. I don’t like this as they are two distinct words, both have distinct meanings and it’s useful to have both. Using alternate for alternative deprives us of a word.

The very definition of a lexicide! O frabjous day!  Somebody gets it! Further on up the ladder, another reader writes:

The word I hate to hear is “leverage“. Pronounced lev-er-ig rather than lee-ver -ig. It seems to pop up in all aspects of work. And its meaning seems to have changed to “value added”.

Surely, Brits must be guilty of their own lexicides. But today, I think I’ll have bubble and squeak for dinner, in honor of this transatlantic alliance in defense of our words. After all, words are our speciality.

— Otto E. Mezzo

POLITICALLY CORRECT: “Political correctness (adjectivally, politically correct; both forms commonly abbreviated to PC) is a term which denotes language, ideas, policies, and behavior seen as seeking to minimize social and institutional offense in occupational, gender, racial, cultural, sexual orientation, certain other religions, beliefs or ideologies, disability, and age-related contexts, and doing so to an excessive extent.” — from the Wikipedia entry for political correctness.

Political correctness is much like obscenity. You can’t define it, but you know it when you see, read or hear it. As with obscenity, the boundaries of political correctness differ for each person. For some people, referring to a person as “African-American” is preferable to “black.” For other more sensitive types, even “black” is verboten. (These are usually the same people who then go on trying to describe a person as “you know, tall, wearing a blue shirt, sits over by accounting — I think he plays tennis,” as if this will help you find him.)

What politically correct does not mean is “socially graceful,” as in “Did you just ask Janet if she was pregnant? That was so not politically correct.” While uttering a politically incorrect statement may be a faux pas, not all faux pas are politically incorrect. Oh sure, some will argue that opposing the boss’s proposal to outsource interoffice mail to flying monkeys is indeed politically incorrect. After all, office politics are involved here. But that is not what both the detractors and defenders of PC mean they use the term. Don’t ask them to define it. But we all know it when we see it.

— Otto E. Mezzo

Reference: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Political_correctness

EXEMPLAR: “a person or thing serving as a typical example or excellent model.” — New Oxford American Dictionary

News flash: I am a “word nazi.” This from several of my dear friends, some professional wordsmiths. It would be gauche to defend myself in these pages, even less genteel to rudely cast them into the abyss of usage-scoffers (the marketing majors, the journalism interns, the TV news producers) while dancing a self-righteous minuet on their execrable memos. So I shall refrain. Now on to exemplar.

Exemplar is business-speak for example because they look similar and exemplar has more letters (see holistic, minimalist, simplistic, etc. etc. etc.). What? Hold on. Let me take this call.

Offended Writer-Type Friend: Hey, Otto. You’re going to tell everyone that exemplar is not the same as example, aren’t you?

Otto: Why yes, Offended Writer-Type Friend, I was. They are not the same.

OWTF: Oh yeah? Then why is the word “example” used in the definition? Explain that, Mr. High and Mighty.

Otto: Wha? Are you serious? If the word “example” is in the definition, then exemplar clearly means something different or more specific than example. In this case, an exemplar is a model to be held-up and emulated, or else one that is especially typical — an epitome.

OWTF: And how is that different from example? I’m an exemplar to writers everywhere. I’m an example to writers everywhere. See? Same thing.

Otto: But wait. What are you an example of? Maybe you’re an example of clumsy word choice or of how not to choose an agent. Example is quality-neutral. A criminal can be made an example of, but he is not an exemplar to other citizens.

OWTF: So by you, it’s incorrect to write: “One exemplar of a subcompact car is the Toyota Corolla.”

Otto: Correct, unless you are holding up the Corolla as everything a subcompact car represents, the epitome of subcompacts. It is also incorrect to modify exemplar with “best,” as the exemplar is by definition the best example.

OWTF: See? You just said an exemplar is the best example. It’s too confusing. You see why no one listens to you? I’m just going to keep using exemplar to mean “example.” It sounds more pretentious and helps me get chicks at parties. This is just another exemplar of your word-nazi-isticness.

[LINE DISCONNECTS. OTTO is left staring dumbly at the phone, wondering why he's receiving a dial tone on his 4G cell phone ]

HOLISTIC: “adjective, chiefly Philosophy: characterized by the comprehension of the parts of something intimately interconnected and explicable only by reference to the whole.
“Medicine: characterized by the treatment of the whole person, taking into account mental and social factors, rather than just the physical symptoms of a disease.” — New Oxford American Dictionary

If you don’t know what a word means, you have no business using it. By my logic, there are thousands — nay, millions of people who should not be using the word holistic. Ever.

Holistic does not mean “whole,” as in “Let’s look at the holistic flowchart.” You also cannot refer to “the holistic process” unless your process (whichever one that is) is indeed holistic. And considering how many “green” companies don’t even recycle, I’m betting good money your process is far from holistic.

I don’t know enough about holistic business practices to lord it over you. Go read about Six Sigma or Ed Deming. And quit it with holistic, simplistic and minimalist. They are not the same as “whole,” “simple” and “minimal.”

— Otto E. Mezzo

My holistic “sighting”