tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48557639516149669342024-03-05T00:16:17.928-05:00Roughly 1,000 Words1,000 Words or Lesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15581248594097203485noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4855763951614966934.post-40698948043422508872009-03-23T17:01:00.002-05:002009-03-23T17:02:06.893-05:00College Elections Show Best of Trite Advertising<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; "><div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; "><div>It’s election time on campus. While nobody is quite sure what student presidents actually do, a number of candidates are still eager to reach out to their fellow students and shamelessly beg for the opportunity to do it. On its own, of course, this holds no interest for me. What caught my attention was how many of the candidates, without any training in advertising, have instinctively employed tried-and-true advertising techniques. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; ">If It Worked for Him…</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Most common are those ads whose creativity comes from plagiarising previously successful campaigns. This year, of course, the primary source is Barack Obama, although use of his slogans appears to be limited to students who can claim some degree of ethnicity. The most notable of these are two black students, one of whom promises “Yes, we will,” while another, whose posters feature an image of his face on a coin, asks, “Want change? I’ve got some.” Meanwhile, a Greek student employs the “change” motive in a number of posters such as “Change our student government,” and “change our rights” (one of these rights being a place to relax and even sleep -- a pointless promise since they already have the lectures for that).</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; ">I Tell You Three Times</span></div><div><br /></div><div>The next most-common advertising method is the simple proclamation: “I am the best.” This is the fall-back position for several of the candidates, although like the real-world counterpart ads, they neglect to provide us with any particular reason for believing in their superiority. “You want the best, vote for ____,” reads a typical sample, or to be honest, pretty well all of them. While “I’m the best” may be an honourable tradition, it’s boringly limited.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; ">The Concept Ad</span></div><div><br /></div><div>One candidate has embraced the concept ads popular among agencies promoting high-end purchases, such as luxury cars, perfume, and wrist watches. These generally consist of an artsy photo taking up most of the ad space, coupled with vague copy that seems to say something, but actually doesn't. In this case, a close-up of part of the candidate’s face fills half the poster while the copy asks various life-style questions such as, “Do you want more empowerment?” </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; ">The Snake Oil Cure </span></div><div><br /></div><div>One of the great drawing powers of the snake oil salesmen was their promise to cure every problem facing humanity. One candidate in particular has embraced this style with gusto. Among her many promises are: a student study space (which they already have), a campus radio station (which is financially impossible), and a student-owned book store (which is downright scary). </div><div><br /></div><div>Now I’m not faulting the students for their lack of creativity in their campaigns. What disturbs me is that, with only a few minor changes. they are virtually indistinguishable from the kind of advertising that clutters up so much of our media, both in print and online. </div><div><br /></div><div>When amateur ads by semi-literate students appear so similar to professional ads by established agencies, it may signal that we’ve got a problem in the industry. </div><div><br /></div></div></span>1,000 Words or Lesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15581248594097203485noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4855763951614966934.post-46359769186592150022009-03-20T12:18:00.008-05:002009-03-22T11:02:33.600-05:00You Are Here—Maybe<div>I have a compass in my head.</div><div><br /></div><div>Not an actual compass, of course. But if you were to blindfold me, drive me around in circles, then plop me down in a strange place on a cloudy night...well ─ truth is, I'd be pretty annoyed. However, within a few minutes I’d be able to point and say, “This way is north.”</div><div><br /></div><div>While this sort of thing is somewhat rare for humans, many animals find it as natural as eating, sleeping, and knocking over garbage cans. According to a 2004 article in the <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences</span>, blind mole rats (which, being blind and all, have a distinct disadvantage in finding their way around) rely on the earth’s magnetic field to navigate long distances. The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill indicates that loggerhead turtles may use a similar navigational technique. Numerous birds, including robins, homing pigeons, and bobolinks likewise appear to employ some kind of internal compass to get from Point A to Point B without ending up at Point Q. Even immune cells have a rudimentary magnetic sensitivity which guides them to the site of invading infections.</div><div><br /></div><div>So when you come down to it, there’s really nothing unusual about my internal compass. In fact the only difference between me and a blind mole rat (aside from the fact that I'm neither blind, nor a mole rat) is that a mole rat’s internal compass is accurate. </div><div><br /></div><div>Mine, sadly, is not.</div><div><br /></div><div>When my internal compass points north it may be pointing east, south, or west. On rare occasion it even points north.</div><div><br /></div><div>It would be manageable if the bloody thing <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">weren</span>’t so self-confident. “This way is north,” it tells me. “But,” I argue, “there’s a sign pointing the opposite direction that says 'north.'” “Probably put up by the government,” it responds. “You going to trust the government?” </div><div><br /></div><div>How can anyone argue with that?</div><div><br /></div><div>As may be imagined, I spend a lot of time going places I never intended going to. Sometimes, to be fair, this has less to do with a faulty sense of direction than it does a faulty sense of geography, like my trip to Woodstock in the summer of 1969. I found the town all right, but for the life of me I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">couldn</span>’t find the hundreds of thousands of concert-goers. Fortunately, a kindly Ontario Provincial Police officer explained my mistake. </div><div><br /></div><div>Generally, however, it’s my wonky mental compass that’s to blame. </div><div><br /></div><div>While visiting my aunt in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Wainfleet</span> when I was about eight, I took her dog, Dino, for a walk in the small nearby woods. These woods were about 100 yards in length, and maybe 50 in width, but once in them I spent an hour trying to find my way out. I finally realized that the solution to my problem was trotting beside me with his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth. Feeling like Timmy with his faithful companion, Lassie, I squatted beside the dog, took his head in my hands and said, “Dino, go home!”</div><div><br /></div><div>It worked. The only difference between Dino and Lassie being that Dino took off at about 60 miles an hour and I didn't see him again until I finally stumbled out of my tiny wilderness around sunset.</div><div><br /></div><div>In normal life (that is, the life I spend not traipsing around in unfamiliar wooded areas), I stick to regular routes and my peculiar disability causes little trouble. Moving to a new location, however, always entails a rather confusing period of adjustment. In the first week after moving to Welland with my wife and baby back in the '70s, I drove to a large discount store we'd noticed the day before. Surprisingly, I arrived without difficulty in about 15 minutes. The trip back, however, took considerably longer, and when I found myself driving past Niagara Falls I began to suspect I’d made a miscalculation. </div><div><br /></div><div>The one thing that sustains me is the knowledge that I'm not alone in this affliction. In 1938, Richard “Wrong Way” <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Corrigan</span> set off from New York on a solo flight across the States to California. He landed in Ireland. While many people believe that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Corrigan</span>’s "misdirection" was actually a protest against the aviation commission’s refusal to license him for an Atlantic crossing, I prefer to believe that he simply got turned around. And there's no doubt that Roy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Riegels</span>, of the 1929 California Bears, wasn't protesting anything when he got spun about on the field during a game with Georgia Technical and carried the ball 63 yards towards his own goal line. Fortunately, he realized his mistake just before making a touchdown. Unfortunately, with the ball on the 1 yard line, it <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">didn</span>’t take a lot of skill for the opposing team to complete his play.</div><div><br /></div><div>More recent examples include a the Canadian Airlines 737 which, in 1988, managed to land in Churchill, Manitoba when it was scheduled to land 750 miles away in the Northwest Territories. And in 1995, a Northwest Airlines DC-10 bound for Frankfurt Germany unexpectedly found itself in Brussels, Belgium. Even subway trains occaisionally get befuddled, as I discovered one time when a west-bound train left Bay Station on the Bloor line and pulled up a few minutes later at the south-bound side of Museum Station on the University line. "I'm not quite sure how this happened, folks," said the refreshingly honest driver over the PA system.</div><div><br /></div><div>In general, though, most people seem to have an almost mystical ability to go where they want to go. It's humiliating. Sometimes I think people like me should have a support group where we could get together to share our stories and encourage each other. Our symbol would be a broken compass. We would establish the group along the lines of the 12 Step Program, except we'd probably only have three or four steps, considering that the more steps we have, the more likely it is we'd get lost. </div><div><br /></div><div>But while it's a nice dream, I know it's completely impracticable. </div><div><br /></div><div>I mean, how would we ever find our way to the meetings?</div>1,000 Words or Lesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15581248594097203485noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4855763951614966934.post-78324031709724797492008-11-21T20:44:00.006-05:002009-10-02T12:50:13.167-05:00Mind the gapThere's an old joke about a man who is told by his doctor to take one pill, twice a day. "But doctor," the patient protests, "After I've taken it once, how am I supposed to take it again?"<div><br /></div>I am that man.<br /><div><br /></div><div>Every day as I walk to the subway I pass an apartment building with a sign that says, "Walking on the grass with dogs is prohibited." And every day I spend the next few minutes puzzling it out. Does that mean that I can walk on the grass with <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">one </span>dog? Does it mean that if I have more than one dog I can let them walk on the grass while I walk on the sidewalk?</div><div><br /></div>At the bus terminal: "Passengers must stand on this side of the line while waiting for the bus." But how can a passenger who, by definition, is already <span style="font-style: italic;">on </span>the bus, wait <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">outside</span> the bus?<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v369/Husserl/2200790417_a3f00e1caf.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 104px; height: 106px;" border="0" alt="" />On the subway there are signs showing a person stepping over that small, but not insignificant space between the station floor and the train. "Mind the gap," it reads. Someone, obviously with a mind similar to my own, had scrawled on one of them: "Not really."<br /><br />If there is a way to misread a sentence, I'll probably find it. Because of this I sometimes spend an inordinate amount of time trying to figure things out, but it also makes me a half-way decent editor. I've even developed it into a kind of aphorism which I try to drive home to my students: "Stupid readers make smart writers." All this really means is that a good writer will look at his work to see how it can be misinterpreted.<br /><br />One of the most common problems I've noticed among my students (and a lot of the writers on the Internet) is that because <span style="font-style: italic;">they</span> know what they mean, they aren't careful enough to ensure that the reader also knows what they mean.<br /><br />During my years teaching I've collected a number of priceless examples of sentences that really could have done with a bit of the "stupid reader" check.<br /><br /><blockquote>"<span style="font-style: italic;">To begin with, at least 14 countries have implemented cell bans while driving across the world.</span></blockquote><br />A bit unclear whether the 14 countries were driving across the world as they banned cell phones, or whether they put into place a ban against driving across the world while using cell phones. Either way, it's pretty impressive.<br /><br /><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"In November of 1973, the Québec jury acquitted Morgenataler but the Québec Court of Appeal throws out the verdict and is jailed for 18 months."</span></blockquote><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></blockquote>That'll teach the Quebec Court of Appeal to throw out a verdict instead of recycling it!<div><br /><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Abortion is a controversial issue that exists mainly on the effects on pregnant women."</span></blockquote><div><br /></div>Will nobody stand up for the rights of pregnant men?<br /><br />It's a simple rule, but surprisingly over-looked. Before sending in your copy or hitting the "publish post" button, make sure your sentences not only make sense, but that they do so in only one way.<br /><br />I'll leave you with a few more words of wisdom taken from my students:</div><div><br /><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The agricultural technology has developed very fast in the past 50 years; and the world has produced enough food for every one on this planet by just looking at the number.</span></blockquote></div>1,000 Words or Lesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15581248594097203485noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4855763951614966934.post-78114785634593985032008-11-21T20:41:00.001-05:002008-11-21T20:41:43.799-05:00I'll impact you!A search of Google News shows that in the last 24 hours there have been almost 800 articles with the phrase "impacted on." That means almost 800 news stories in one day alone have gone out of their way to irritate me. <div><br /></div><div>That's a lot of irritation. And that's not counting other uses of the word "impact" as a verb, such as "will impact" (almost 5,000) and "have impacted" (almost 800).<br /><br /><div>I know, I know. There is nothing grammatically wrong with using "impact" as a verb. The American Heritage Dictionary takes great pains to point this out, noting that "[i]mpact has been used as a verb since 1601, when it meant 'to fix or pack in,' and its modern, figurative use dates from 1935." Of course, the 1601 use had a very distinct meaning and should any of these news reports be talking about dentistry or meteor strikes I'll let it go by. But they're not. Here are a few examples:</div><div><ul><li>"... and also <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">impacted on</span> the work of Otis Redding"<br /></li><li>"Sustainability also <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">impacted on</span> shoppers' choices..."<br /></li><li>"This in turn has <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">impacted on</span> the spending power, ..."<br /></li><li>"The results are also <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">impacted on</span> translation into euros at a significantly weaker rand rate"</li></ul><div>This is nothing but bad writing with an over-inflated ego. Every sentence here would be improved simply by using "affected" instead of "impacted on."</div><div><ul><li>"... and also <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">affected</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>the work of Otis Redding"<br /></li><li>"Sustainability also <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">affected</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>shoppers' choices..."<br /></li><li>"This in turn has <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">affected</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>the spending power, ..."<br /></li><li>"The results <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">affect</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>translation into euros at a significantly weaker rand rate"</li></ul></div></div><div>In this way, while it may not improve the writing, it at least rids it of insufferable pretentiousness. Even better, however, is to use verbs which help articulate the idea being put forth whenever possible:</div><div><ul><li>"... and also <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">shaped</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>the work of Otis Redding"<br /></li><li>"Sustainability also <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">dictates</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>shoppers' choices..."<br /></li><li>"This in turn has <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">undermined</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>the spending power, ..."</li></ul><div>And in the fourth example, both "affect" and "impact on" are merely useless add-ons and can be removed altogether:</div><ul><li>"The results also <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">translate</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"> </span>into euros at a significantly weaker rand rate"</li></ul></div><div>The AHD seems puzzled, almost insulted, by the fact that so many of us find this usage objectionable. "It is unclear," it says, "why this usage provokes such a strong response, but it cannot be because of novelty." But just because something has been around for 70 years, or even 400 years doesn't mean it can't be "novel." Perhaps the figurative use has been around since 1935, but it wasn't a part of every damned sentence out of speakers' mouths nor did it make its way into 800 newspaper stories every single day!<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Regardless of the history they attempt to put forth for this usage, the AHD is forced to admit that even their own Usage Panel detests it. "Eighty-four percent of the Usage Panel," it says, "disapproves of the construction 'to impact on,' as in the phrase 'social pathologies, common to the inner city, that impact heavily on such a community;' fully 95 percent disapproves of the use of impact as a transitive verb in the sentence 'Companies have used disposable techniques that have a potential for impacting our health.'" Despite this almost unanimous condemnation, the dictionary still makes the prediction that because "the verbal use of impact has become so common in the working language of corporations and institutions" that "the verb will eventually become as unobjectionable as contact is now, since it will no longer betray any particular pretentiousness on the part of those who use it."</div><div><br /></div><div>Well, they may be right. But there are a growing number of seminars, tutorials, books and websites urging speakers and writers to drop the use of the verbal "impact" in order to make their communications clearer and more understandable. A couple of decades ago it looked like the word "irregardless" was going to become an accepted part of English, but a million voices raised in condemnation relegated the bastard word to its rightful place as a marker of ignorance and illiteracy. Although "impact" may technically be a verb, its common (and unbearably <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">constant</span>) use can similarly be stopped if enough of us follow two simple rules:</div><div><ol><li>Stop using it ourselves, and</li><li>Throw rotten vegetables at anyone else who uses it.</li></ol><div>I'd suggest three-week-old tomatoes. They impact nicely.</div></div></div>1,000 Words or Lesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15581248594097203485noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4855763951614966934.post-33508924476355250042008-04-07T13:53:00.002-05:002008-04-12T17:57:20.903-05:00The Flexible Hand: Writing as Thought and ArtOne of the hardest concepts to get across to my students, virtually all of whom have been educated in the mind-numbing Five Paragraph Essay format, is that writing does not exist merely as a means of placing three arguments, each neatly wrapped in its own paragraph, into an insipid predigested format devoid of spark, imagination, wit or even the slightest interest on the part of either the writer or the reader.<br /><br />Writing is supposed to be the exact opposite to this.<br /><br />Fact is, writing and thinking go hand in hand – which isn’t to say that people who don’t write can’t think, but their thinking skills are certainly at a disadvantage. It’s kind of like body-building. Although it may be possible to build muscle by lifting telephone books, the process is a lot more efficient, and the results a lot more dramatic, if you use the right equipment. This also works the other way around. The better you think, the better you can write. Just as lifting weights increases muscle strength which in turn allows for lifting heavier weights, so too writing improves thought processes which in turn leads to better writing.<br /><br />Writing allows us to articulate our thoughts. The word “articulate” means connecting things by joints. In the physical world, things are articulated either to make them more flexible or to allow them to grasp objects more precisely. Consider a train 100 yards long. If it were one solid piece of metal on wheels it could only travel along a perfectly straight track. But because it consists of jointed smaller units it can bend to go around curves. In this case the articulation improves flexibility. Now consider the human hand with its opposable thumb and multi-jointed fingers. Because our hands are more articulated than our feet we can use them for drawing, threading needles, and typing on keyboards. In this case the articulation improves grasp. In the world of thought, however, the two aspects become one. When we articulate a thought it becomes both flexible and able to grasp intricate concepts. Poorly articulated thought is stiff and incapable of picking up complex subtleties. Just think of the average political platform which generally consists of sound-bites that sound good on the six o’clock news, but fail to adequately address the intricacies of the issues under discussion.<br /><br />As long as our thoughts are unarticulated, that is, as long as they remain crude and undefined, they are vulnerable to over-simplification and error. Poor articulation allows internal inconsistencies to go unnoticed. “Think globally: Act locally,” “No blood for oil,” “Honesty is the best policy.” All such slogans are unsophisticated answers to difficult and multi-faceted concerns. We are attracted to them because of their simplistic and dramatic appeal. Furthermore, they appear to be so self-evidently true that we find it difficult to argue them. The oft heard cry, “If even a single life is saved…,” is almost impossible to resist, despite the fact that it generally precedes untenable propositions such as warning labels for every possible hazard and guarantees of safety for every situation. It is this very simplistic and incontestable aspect of slogans that makes them so easy to adopt as our own. When asked about important and wide-ranging issues, most people blithely respond with catch-phrases from TV, radio or newspapers which they fully believe are their own thoughts.<br /><br />Writing – at least good writing – serves to correct over-simplification and inconsistencies. There is a reason most hate literature is poorly written with infantile spelling and grammar mistakes: if it were written any better the flaws and fallacies would become apparent – even to the writer. When examined more closely, the message reveals itself to be a structure built from crude and over-extended struts ready to crumble under the weight of their inherent weaknesses.<br /><br />Most people, fortunately, are good-hearted, and so the slogans and platitudes they mistake for their thoughts are at least benevolent. But this very benevolence can easily be crushed when confronted with reality. Many young activists ascribe noble and high-minded attributes to the groups on whose behalf they fight. As a result, it is quite common for them to become disillusioned and even antagonistic upon discovering that not all the individuals for whom they are fighting live up to these unrealistic standards.<br /><br />But all this makes it sound like writing’s only function is to sharpen our minds for arguments and social causes. The clarity that it can give to our emotional world is equally valuable. Why do lovers scribble protestations of their undying love in letters and poems? Why are most of our popular songs about affairs of the heart? It is because we are constantly striving to articulate matters that are perhaps ultimately beyond articulation. We seek to understand by writing about them, by taking something that appears to be one huge, overwhelming thing and breaking it down into more manageable and understandable parts. Unfortunately, most people are so unskilled in writing that the subtleties of their feelings are never fully grasped.<br /><br />Writing allows us to better understand complex issues and emotions, to communicate with others and transcend our limited personalities, to leave a record of what we have learned for the benefit of those who come after. It can entertain, amuse, and even expose both ourselves and our readers to new worlds. When the industrial age threatened to permanently crush the working poor, writers like Charles Dickens portrayed their plight in such vivid and empathic terms that a new era of charity and social reforms was born.<br /><br />Those who hold simple, fundamentalist perspectives, as do many religious and political fanatics, are right to fear the written word and demand the banning or burning of certain books. Well-articulated ideas are a danger to their fragile belief systems. Oppressive leaders relentlessly seek out and imprison or execute those who write books and tracts contrary to the party line, knowing that such people pose more danger to their dominance than guns and armies.<br /><br />Writing is dangerous. Writing is soothing. Writing reveals the complex in the simple and the simple in the complex. It is a vehicle carrying the thoughts of one generation to generations whose great-great-grandparents have yet to be born. It is a magic crystal through which we can peer into the hearts and minds of our fellow humans, and it is a magic wand with which we can change these same hearts and minds. It is a sharp-edged tool which can be used as a warrior’s sword to kill, or as a surgeon’s scalpel to heal. With writing we understand more clearly what we truly believe and with writing we can convey these beliefs to others.<br /><br />But there is one thing that writing is not – five paragraphs of bloodless prose with no purpose other than scoring a good grade on a standardized test.1,000 Words or Lesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15581248594097203485noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4855763951614966934.post-34582744249244247882008-02-20T23:18:00.008-05:002008-09-08T15:43:09.481-05:00Honesty in Writing<div>When we talk about writing honestly, we don't necessarily mean that the author is telling the truth. Stephen King, for instance, is (or at least was – some of us are a bit concerned about his more recent novels) an exceptionally honest writer. Yet we know every word is a lie. There really aren't cars like Christine that possess their owners, nor are there cosmic spiders disguised as clowns living in the sewers of Derry, Maine. In fact, there isn't even a Derry, Maine.</div><div><br /></div><div>Where King's honesty makes itself apparent is in his handling of characterizations, observations, and human interactions. It doesn't matter that Stuttering Bill, the boy in It, never existed, nor does it matter that his brother, equally non-existent, was never murdered by a shape-shifting clown. What counts is that Bill's reactions to this murder, and to his parents' inability to cope with it, are honest reactions. They may not be the only responses possible; but they are honest responses nonetheless.</div><div><br /></div><div>Some authors, however, write characters who feel, react, and respond in ways which are apparently dictated solely by the necessity of plot. For instance, I'm sure we've all read a murder mystery in which someone loses a loved one to a violent serial killer, yet is laughing and drinking champagne with the detective who solved the case 48 hours later? Does that seem real to you? It doesn't to me.</div><div><br /></div><div>The same thing applies to non-fiction writing. When we write an essay, we're supposed to be putting on paper our thoughts about a particular subject. All too often, however, what passes for "our thoughts" are really other people's thoughts which seem clever to us. As a result, many essays are little more than a series of quotations from "experts" – acknowledged or otherwise.</div><div><br /></div><div>For example, in an essay about the importance of a good night's sleep to our health, one student made reference to a sleep expert who said that you can't catch up on lost sleep. Now did the student really believe that? The first question that comes to my mind is, "What the hell does that mean?" If we never catch up on lost sleep, does that mean that the effects of that sleepless night I had five years ago are still with me? What about all those nights as a baby that colic kept me awake? No wonder we grow old and die – every hour of lost sleep is another nail in our coffin.</div><div><br /></div><div>This isn't a matter of checking our facts, although that is also important. The point is that some "facts" automatically raise questions in the minds of virtually all those who hear it, yet few are honest enough to admit to it.</div><div><br /></div><div>In fact, perhaps it is this ability to say "What does that mean?" that forms the foundation of honest writing. In It, the plot required Stuttering Bill's brother to be killed with the results that his parents retreated into a cold, emotionless shell. A more dishonest writer would simply have stated these things in one form or another. King, on the other hand, asked himself, "What does this mean?" "What does it mean to have your younger brother brutally murdered?" "What does it mean to have your father and mother withdraw their emotional support because they are too hurt and devastated to see beyond their own needs?" And then he wrote it.</div><div><br /></div><div>In essence, this is the basis of good essay writing. We ask ourselves, "What does this mean?" and then we write it.</div>1,000 Words or Lesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15581248594097203485noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4855763951614966934.post-10486212861524952012008-02-11T12:35:00.000-05:002008-02-22T12:51:12.185-05:00Expert Advice and Why You Should Avoid ItMy mother lives in a building catering to the elderly and disabled. It isn't a "home" nor an "assisted living" centre ─ just a regular apartment building with various design features like handholds on the walls above the bathtub and extra wide doors to accommodate wheelchairs.<br /><br />As with any other apartment building, an unlocked door from the street leads to a small antechamber with a bank of call buttons for the various apartments. To get past the locked door leading to the main lobby it is necessary to either unlock it with a key, or use the intercom to get buzzed in.<br /><br />Or at least, that's how it used to be. Apparently, following extensive consultation with experts in the security field, management set up a new system which now requires even the door to the street be locked at all times. Non-residents no longer have access to the intercom, nor can they be buzzed in through the front door. Visitors must now call up from their cell phones or from the phone booth across the street then wait for the resident to come down and open the door.<br /><br />Sure there are a few draw-backs, such as requiring 85-year-old women in wheelchairs to leave their apartments, take the elevator to the lobby, open the door to the antechamber, go through the antechamber, and open the door to the street in order to receive a visitor ─ as if getting the grandkids to drop by wasn't hard enough already! But it is obviously far more secure than the previous system. It must be: if it weren't, it would be completely idiotic ─ and what consultant firm could be accused of coming up with idiotic ideas?<br /><br />The truth is, this is exactly what many consulting experts do: reject simple but effective strategies in favour of complex, non-intuitive rituals which more closely resemble medieval liturgical rites than practical solutions. Why? Because after charging thousands of dollars in consultation fees, they feel the need to tell a client something more than, "Keep the inner door locked and watch out for suspicious characters" ─ even if that is the best advice. Consultants charge high fees because they're supposed to be experts, and to justify these fees they have to come up with solutions that would have never crossed the mind of a non-expert. Just ask the Thanksgiving travelers at Cleveland Hopkins International Airport who had their pumpkin pies confiscated for security reasons (Guillen, 2006).<br /><br />It isn't just security that suffers from this suicide-by-consultant syndrome; virtually every field of labour is infected. Consider the great TTC Subway Map Fiasco of 1994.<br /><br />At the time, the Toronto subway consisted of only two lines: the east-west Bloor-Danforth line, and the north-south Yonge-University. As we all know, the Yonge-University line forms a large U-shape while the Bloor-Danforth line is virtually straight. This is the way they have always been depicted on the official TTC maps, which have also (like virtually every other map in the world) shown north at the top and east to the right. Of the many complaints riders had about the subway, none involved the maps. In fact, to the untrained eye, it appeared to be perfect.<br /><br />To communications experts, however, it was a disaster in the making. After examining the issue, then looking at their hefty consulting fees that had to be justified, they came up with a solution no non-expert would have thought of. Instead of one map, they created several maps, each with a significant difference. Some put east in the traditional location, others placed it to the left. Some showed the U-shaped Yonge-University route as a U-shaped line, others showed it as a straight line crossed by a U-shaped Bloor-Danforth line.<br /><br />Their reason? To make things easier for immigrants and tourists.<br /><br />Before going system wide with the new maps, they were first given a trial run at select stations, such as Bay. Within two days the general population and Toronto media (including Yours Truly) had turned the maps into a city-wide punch line, and TTC management, sensing that their riders were not entirely impressed, returned to their older map methodology.<br /><br />But consultants and experts can't expect to make the big bucks just by coming up with ideas apparently inspired by Ozzie Osbourne's sleep terrors, they also need a language that cries out, "Pay me six figures or I'll keep talking!" They have to be able to "streamline visionary methodologies," "drive revolutionary alignments," and "recontextualize collegial cohorts" without breaking a sweat. Any failure to keep the consultant mega-jargon in play risks allowing their clients a chance to stop and think ─ and that could seriously interfere with the experts' ability to "innovate authentic solutions and unleash process-based business partnerships."<br /><br />Let's take a typical company, such as Danka which was featured on Jon Warshawsky’s <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Fight the Bull</span> blog in June of 2005. According to its press release, Danka is a company which:<br /><blockquote>... delivers value to clients worldwide by using its expert technical and professional services to implement effective document information solutions. As one of the largest independent providers of enterprise imaging systems and services, the company enables choice, convenience, and continuity (Warshawsky, 2005).</blockquote>This is an impressive sounding Mission Statement put out by a company that obviously does very impressive work. And what kind of work is that? <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">They install printing and fax machines</span>.<br /><br />There's no denying we need expert consultants. Who other than retail consultants could have convinced store managers that giving the customer their change by piling a loose collection of coins on top of a pile of bills was the way to go? Who other than educational consultants could have come up with teaching an entire generation the Five Paragraph Essay which has never been found in real life? And who, other than communication experts, could make corporate statements so convoluted that people like Steven Morgan Friedman can offer $100 to anyone who can translate them?<br /><br />The next time you're about to check in with consultant-style experts, remember what their real business is: making things as complicated as possible so you'll think you actually needed their services.<br /><br />And that's a conceptual synergy template you can take to the bank.<br /><br /><hr /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center">Works Cited<br /><br /></div>Guillen, Joe (2006, November, 23). No glitches, headaches to report at Hopkins . The Plain Dealer, Retrieved February 11, 2007, from http://www.cleveland.com/news/plaindealer/index.ssf?/base/cuyahoga/1164277064116100.xml&coll=2<br /><br />Warshawsky, Jon (2005 July 20). [Weblog] Danka: shame. Fight The Bull. Retrieved February 11 2007, from http://www.fightthebull.com/blog/1,000 Words or Lesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15581248594097203485noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4855763951614966934.post-32075103602394863842007-03-02T12:10:00.001-05:002009-03-22T11:03:34.837-05:00Opening Windows: TV's Influence on Liberal Social ChangeIt’s been called “the idiot box,” “the boob tube, and “the electric teat.” In short, TV has been considered by many to be a complete and utter waste of time. According to its critics it has no redeeming features – aside from the occasional PBS documentary and high-brow British comedy featuring men dressed in women’s clothing. Its only legacy: a brainwashed, docile, and homogeneous society. Questioning this assertion is tantamount to admitting that you accidentally tossed your brains into the blue box – along with your copies of <span style="font-style: italic;">Weekly World News</span> and <span style="font-style: italic;">National Enquirer</span>.<br /><br />So I guess what I’m about to say at least shows I recycle: I think television has been one of the greatest agents of liberal change in the history of North America.<br /><br />During the racially troubled ‘60s, TV did more to advance the cause of civil rights than all the public debates, newspaper articles, and painfully earnest books combined. Television signals blanketed the continent with narratives: narratives of families, friends, bus drivers, police, lawyers, and talking horses. And many of these narratives included messages of tolerance and racial unity. While conservative regions had been able to largely isolate themselves from encroaching liberal values, they were unable to withstand the increasingly diverse stories beamed into their homes from the TV studios.<br /><br />I’m not talking about news reports and serious documentaries. Admirable as they may have been, they were ultimately only seen by a relatively small percentage of the viewing public, most of whom already had the liberal attitudes being espoused. The real influence came from the sitcoms, the variety shows, and the courtroom dramas that made up the greatest bulk of the TV diet – the very shows most often pegged as mindless, brain-dead drivel. Many deserved the criticism; many didn’t. What was important, however, was that when Robert Culp and Bill Cosby joined forces in <span style="font-style: italic;">I Spy</span>, the unprecedented collaboration of white and black as equal partners was beamed into the living rooms of northerners and southerners, urbanites and farmers, bigots and non-bigots alike.<br /><br />Dr. Martin Luther King recognized the social power of popular shows. When actress Nichelle Nichols contemplated leaving <span style="font-style: italic;">Star Trek</span> to do more socially significant roles, Dr. King told her she “could not give up” and that she was “a vital role model for young black children and women across the country” (Nichelle, 2007).<br /><br />Admittedly TV wasn’t exactly cutting-edge in its depiction of racial harmony. It took a long time for black actors to find their way as major characters, and when Rodenberry showed the first inter-racial kiss on TV (between Captain Kirk and Uhura) he used the actors’ heads to hide the actual kiss – and even then, the episode wasn’t shown in some of the southern states for fear of boycotts and reprisals (William, 2007). But despite the often hysterical criticism from its more regressive viewers, TV continued to push a message of tolerance and integration.<br /><br />But TV’s benefits extend far beyond issues of racism; it chipped away at scores of seemingly unassailable prejudices and outmoded societal mores. The previously unquestioned value of corporal punishment was gently undermined as parents watched Ozzie and Harriet Nelson, Rob and Laura Petrie, and even Gomez and Morticia Addams handle their children without benefit of spankings (although in the Addams household there were no end of casual explosions). Long-stigmatized life-styles found growing acceptance. Despite its less-than-stellar comedy, <span style="font-style: italic;">That Girl</span> showed a single woman following a career path without benefit of a husband. Sitcoms like <span style="font-style: italic;">One Day at a Time</span> and <span style="font-style: italic;">Alice </span>featured respectable single mothers. Julia did the same with a single black mother. <span style="font-style: italic;">My Three Sons</span> and <span style="font-style: italic;">The Andy Griffith Show</span> featured single males raising children.<br /><br />This progressive influence did not come about through the intelligence of the shows, nor even the quality. In fact intelligent shows, of the kind often promoted by academics and professional intellectuals, would never have had the same impact. We needed the goofiness of <span style="font-style: italic;">I Love Lucy</span> to highlight a Cuban TV star; the n’er-do-well adventures of The Honeymooners to give dignity to the working class, and the action-packed adventure of <span style="font-style: italic;">I Spy</span> to give co-star status to a black actor.<br /><br />TV has been saddled with many insults, but it has also been called a “window on the world.” Sometimes the window opens onto an unfolding moment of history, such as the assassination of a president or the first man on the moon; sometimes it opens onto a critically acclaimed drama, such as Arthur Halley’s <span style="font-style: italic;">Roots </span>or Rod Serling’s <span style="font-style: italic;">Requiem for a Heavyweight</span>; and sometimes (perhaps most times) it opens onto a vignette of total idiocy, such as Rob Petrie falling over an ottoman or Klinger wearing a dress and bucking for his Section Eight. But the important thing is that it opens. And in doing so, it allows us all to discover there are more ways to live than we had known – and that changing channels in life is more possible than we thought.<br /><br /><hr /><br />Works Cited<br /><br />Nichelle Nichols. (2007). In Wikipedia [Web]. Retrieved February 20, 2007, from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nichelle_Nichols<br /><br />William Shatner. (2007). In Wikipedia [Web]. Wikipedia. Retrieved February 20, 2007, from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Shatner1,000 Words or Lesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15581248594097203485noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4855763951614966934.post-4596040269796861922007-03-02T12:02:00.002-05:002009-05-11T12:07:08.579-05:00Lights Out, Light Up: How I Discovered the Joys of SmokingIt was dark when I got home.<br /><br />It had been dark when I’d left in the morning too.<br /><br />That was just one of the joys of working in a factory during the winter months. You left in darkness and came home in darkness. “From darkness we come; to darkness we return” – to paraphrase a line used at funerals: which also involve a return to darkness, come to think of it.<br /><br />In this case, however, it was different.<br /><br />It was 1972 and this was my first apartment in the big city of Toronto. I’d been living there for about six months, the last five with my girlfriend. She wasn’t home today, however. We’d broken up a week earlier and while I was at work she was to have taken her things, called a friend, and moved back to Hamilton.<br /><br />So I was expecting her to be gone. What annoyed me was that she hadn’t left any lights on for me – irrational to be sure, I admit; but it was a break-up so I figured I was entitled to a bit of irrationality.<br /><br />Still, as another saying goes, “It’s better to light one little candle than to curse the darkness,” and in the modern world that meant turning on the light. With a martyr’s sigh I flicked the light switch and finished walking into the living room while something niggled at the back of my mind – the first of many niggles that evening.<br /><br />After a moment I realized the problem: it was still dark.<br /><br />I went back, flicked the switch a couple more times (as though somehow I may have done it wrong on my first attempt), but the darkness stubbornly refused to give way to light. Figuring the bulb had blown, I put down my stuff and made my way to a table lamp. With a martyr’s sigh (I was getting good at those) I flicked it on.<br /><br />Well, I flicked it. The “on” part ─ not so much.<br /><br />I stood wondering what the odds were that two bulbs could blow out on the same day. Pretty slim, I concluded. Meanwhile there was another niggle I couldn’t quite place. Instead I methodically made my way around the living room, then on to the kitchen and bedroom trying light switches as I went. I ended up back in the living room and sat down at the table next to the window.<br /><br />Perfect. My girlfriend had left me, and now so had my lights. It was shaping up to be a perfect night. With a martyr’s sigh (see, I told you I was getting good at them) I put my elbows on the table and rested my head in my hands. For a while I did nothing but stare at the stuff littering the table-top: a sugar bowl, salt and pepper shakers, a package of cigarettes someone had left a few days earlier, and an envelope. It was too dark to read the front of the envelope, but I knew what it was since I’d opened it when I first got it two weeks back. It was a bill from the electric company.<br /><br />I sat up straight as the little niggle crystallized.<br /><br />No lights. Unpaid electric bill.<br /><br />It was beginning to add up.<br /><br />Well, it was a fixable problem, but there wasn’t much I could do about it until tomorrow. In the meantime I couldn’t read, watch TV, or even listen to music.<br /><br />“From darkness we come,” and all that.<br /><br />With nothing better to do, I opened the package of cigarettes. I’d never been tempted to smoke before – I’d heard far too much about the nausea experienced by the first-time smoker – but I was depressed and at lose ends. With a “what the hell” shrug I took one out and lit it.<br /><br />After about three drags I sat back and thought, “Why didn’t anyone ever tell me about this!”<br /><br />It was ambrosia. It was rapture. It was – wonderful.<br /><br />Although nothing had changed, suddenly it didn’t seem so dark anymore. Hope, expectation, optimism returned, and they brought with them an inner light of their own. I would pay the electric bill. I would enjoy my new life as a bachelor. I would face the future with a spring to my step and anticipation in my heart.<br /><br />The cigarette wasn’t just making me feel better, it was actually making me think better, too. In a flash I realized that I could always read by the light of the refrigerator. It would add a bit to the bill, but at least I could feed my addiction to the written word.<br /><br />With a cigarette in my mouth, a saucer by my side, and a book in my hand I opened the fridge door and sat in front of it, happy for the first time since I’d come home.<br /><br />Except for one little niggle.<br /><br />It was somewhere during my third cigarette that I had a sudden thought: if the power was off, why was the refrigerator light on? For that matter, since when did the electric company cut off your power for being two weeks overdue?<br /><br />With that, the little niggle became a conviction that I was ignoring the most obvious reason for my predicament. I got up and took the elevator to the basement. After a few minutes I found the two switches controlling my apartment. One was for the stove and fridge. The other was for the rest of the rooms. This second one had tripped to the off position.<br /><br />I switched it back on and returned to an apartment blazing with light.<br /><br />I never did find out what had tripped the breaker, and it never happened again the entire time I lived there, but I did learn something very important about myself that night: I really, really liked smoking.<br /><br />I still smoke, although I average only two packs a week.<br /><br />But “getting a light” still has a special meaning to me.1,000 Words or Lesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15581248594097203485noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4855763951614966934.post-29774086597897863802007-02-21T15:59:00.001-05:002008-12-10T07:02:45.427-05:00Why Does Religion Get all the Cool Hats?<p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6828/534071294893615/1600/PopeHatSmallCaptioned.0.gif"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6828/534071294893615/320/PopeHatSmallCaptioned.0.gif" border="0" /></a></p><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJEofCGL0FgrzaCE6PsZ9t04cSAPsb8A8Jz9fLMZ6Z4SKJ0GAPNUzKhcBwQAsV40DkgvOrldWca3To766mSEN5hVsGgyAF1hyphenhyphenZl3xKxQCFdO5qhvi4wV85Xqsy_tgYVH7YlWZvuE-1/s1600-h/nonreligioushat.GIF"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169546023879120402" style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; width: 187px; cursor: pointer; height: 150px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJEofCGL0FgrzaCE6PsZ9t04cSAPsb8A8Jz9fLMZ6Z4SKJ0GAPNUzKhcBwQAsV40DkgvOrldWca3To766mSEN5hVsGgyAF1hyphenhyphenZl3xKxQCFdO5qhvi4wV85Xqsy_tgYVH7YlWZvuE-1/s320/nonreligioushat.GIF" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>OK, maybe religion has produced some beautiful and profound things aside from hats: art, philosophy, holy crusaders, suicide bombers. But you've got to admit ─ it <span style="font-style: italic;">excels </span>in the creation of really cool headgear.<br /><br />The truth is, religion has a strange and perhaps not entirely healthy obsession with head coverings. Not only does it prescribe a wide variety of styles ─ ranging from the fairly simple Hutterite scarf and Muslim hijab, to the incredibly ornate Roman Catholic mitre ─ it also dictates a sometimes bewildering set of rules as to when and how they are to be worn. The long tradition of Sunday-go-to-meeting hats reflected St. Paul's admonition that men should pray with their heads uncovered while women should pray with their heads covered. In other cultures, the prevailing religion dictates that women must cover their heads when in public, but can go bare-headed among family members. What's a poor agnostic to think?<br /><br />Maybe this preoccupation with pieces of cloth stuck to the top of one's head stems from religion's tendency to require that its practitioners separate themselves from the rest of the population: either through some means of self-mutilation or by wearing ludicrous clothing. Given the choice between wearing odd clothes (regardless of how ludicrous) and cutting, scarring, or otherwise poking holes in our bodies, it's safe to say that most of us would opt for the funny caps. Still, even though hats are relatively convenient as a sartorial genuflection to God, they can nevertheless give rise to surprisingly contentious emotions ─ and in certain circumstances, even endanger embassies.<br /><br />This isn't to say that secular hats are free of all irrationality. Back in the days when everyone and their uncle wore hats, there were a surprising number of rules that went with them. Emily Post, who reigned as society's Queen of Etiquette for many decades, declared that in apartment buildings, hotels and clubs a man must briefly remove his hat when a lady entered the elevator. "A public corridor is like the street," she explained, "but an elevator is suggestive of a room, and a gentleman does not keep his hat on in the presence of ladies in a house." Stores and office buildings, however, were different matters since their elevators were to be considered "as public a place as the corridor" (Post).<br /><br />Truth to tell, there's something a little strange in the whole idea of hats as symbols of respect. We put them on as a sign of respect, and then take them off as a sign of respect. We carefully pick out just the right hat to wear to an event, and then remove it as we arrive. Maybe hats just make us a little crazy.<br /><br />Or maybe the craziness is coming from "out there" and we're just not wearing the <span style="font-style: italic;">right </span>hats.<br /><br />Inspired by the <span style="font-style: italic;">Gray Lensmen</span> science fiction stories (in which the protagonist wore a special helmet to protect himself from mental attacks), <a href="http://www.stopabductions.com/">Michael Menkin</a>, inventor, and front-line combatant against alien abductions, has developed a simple Thought Screen Helmet. It is easily made with a few readily available materials plus two square yards of 3M Velostat. The finished product, according to Menkin's testimonials, not only keeps our minds safe from alien thoughts, but also makes it difficult for them to find us for purposes of abduction. As one enthusiastic Thought Screen Helmet user gushed:</p><p><br /></p><blockquote>“I am happy to report that the Thought Screen Helmet has been performing beautifully! It’s been over six months now and NOT ONE INCIDENT! Aside from some of the naive neighborhood kids and their taunting it’s been a blissful period” (Menkin)<br /></blockquote><br />I guess religion doesn't get <span style="font-style: italic;">all</span> the cool hats.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v369/Husserl/Blog/Michaelinhelmet.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 200px; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v369/Husserl/Blog/Michaelinhelmet.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Michael Menkin wearing his stylish</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">and comfortable Thought Screen Helmet<br /></span></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><hr /></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS,Arial,Helvetica;"><span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS,Arial,Helvetica;"><span style="font-family:arial;">References</span></span></span><br /></div><span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS,Arial,Helvetica;"><span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS,Arial,Helvetica;"><br /></span></span><p><b><span style="font-family:Arial;">Menkin, M.</span></b><span style="font-family:Arial;"> Testimonials. Retrieved </span><st1:date month="2" day="21" year="2008"><span style="font-family:Arial;">February 21, 2008</span></st1:date><span style="font-family:Arial;">, from Stop Alien Abductions Web site: http://www.stopabductions.com/</span><span style="font-family:Arial;"><br /><br /></span><b><span style="font-family:Arial;">Post, E.</span></b><span style="font-family:Arial;"> (1922). <i>Etiquette in Society, in Business, in Politics and at Home</i>. </span><st1:place><st1:city><span style="font-family:Arial;">New York</span></st1:city><span style="font-family:Arial;">, </span><st1:state><span style="font-family:Arial;">New York</span></st1:state></st1:place><span style="font-family:Arial;">: Funk & Wagnalls.</span><span style="font-family:Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p><br /></p>1,000 Words or Lesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15581248594097203485noreply@blogger.com