Word Perfect 

I’ve been working with an editor on my latest book, I’ll be Your Server, a series of reflections on servants in the Bible. As we go back and forth on placement of commas or singular versus plural verbs, I’m aware that we’ll not catch everything we should. I’ve increasingly accepted that there are no perfect books. All my books, and I assume all other books as well, have errors: typos, grammatical mistakes, incorrect word usage, or whatever.

My son, Matthew, is an excellent proofreader. He invariably catches numerous errors in my drafts. But even he doesn’t catch everything, and within about 17 minutes after opening my latest book, he can be guaranteed to find at least one more elusive typo. Sigh…

This leads to acute schadenfreude [pleasure at someone else’s misfortune] when I discover the typos of others, and I’m reminded of their humanity—and mine.

Three examples. A music organization in Spokane proudly advertised its upcoming “12-hour continuous recital.” Unfortunately, they omitted the “i” in “recital.”

The Lyndon B. Johnson School of Public Affairs, at the University of Texas in Austin, published its commencement brochure describing itself as “The School of Pubic Affairs.” The School duly issued an apology for what it termed its “eggregious typo.”

Then there is the so-called “Wicked Bible,” published in 1631. It proclaimed in Exodus 20:14 that “Thou shalt commit adultery.”

I’ve recently read Dreyer’s English, by the former copy-editing chief of Penguin-Random House, Benjamin Dreyer. He notes how difficult it is to attain perfection in editing and even he continues to find errors in books that he has edited.

Writers and editors are uncomfortably aware of the first part of Alexander Pope’s line, “To err is human, to forgive divine.” But we turn to you, dear reader, to embrace the bit about forgivenes.

[300 words]

 

 

Welcome Words, Wicked Words, Wasted Words

 

Welcome Words, Wicked Words, Wasted Words

This month’s 300-words entry is late: Sue and I were in Pennsylvania helping take care of our twin grandchildren, Sophie and Hazel, until earlier this week. It was a delight to hear first-hand their steadily increasing vocabularies.

Words were much on my mind during that visit, both because of the girls and the two books I’d taken along to read.

One was specifically about words and the comedian who became legendary for using bad ones: George Carlin. The book, Carlin’s autobiography, Last Words, described growing up in New York and how he became a nationally renowned comedian. The book’s downside was the gratuitous foul language and the depressing accounts of his drug and alcohol abuse. Still, the examples of his comic routines highlighted his remarkable facility with words.

The second book was a novel selected for a mindless read. (I’ll mention neither the author nor the title to protect the guilty.) It purported to be a crime thriller. But the real crime was that the book was an appalling waste of words. The protagonist lacked any credibility: a former homicide detective who had palatial homes on the East and West coasts. He was also a lawyer and a pilot who flew his private jet to his English estate. The dialogue was painfully predictable and the story ended with one significant plotline unresolved. In brief, this was one of the worst written books I’ve ever read. I kept hoping that it would get better; it didn’t.

Two lessons. First. I was reminded that writers should never send readers away disappointed. Give them something: amusement, hope, entertainment, information, inspiration, whatever. Second, I should have remembered John Ruskin’s words: “Life being very short, and the quiet hours of it few, we ought to waste none of them in reading valueless books.” Too late.

[300 words]

AI in My Time of Need

 

AI in My Time of Need

Not having any inspiration that merited a 300-word blog entry dealing with words, I did what any self-respecting student would do: either copy and paste something from Wikipedia or go straight to AI Chat or a comparable website. First, though,I asked AI Chat, “Is there anything wrong with asking you to write a story for me?”

Here's part of AI’s answer: There is nothing inherently wrong with asking someone to write a story for you. However, it is important to consider the time and effort that goes into writing a story, and it is courteous to compensate the writer for their work if you are requesting a custom story.

I didn’t find this especially compelling so I thought I’d try a different tack altogether, and asked if it knew who the legendary Portuguese explore Vasco da Gama was, and if he’d vote for Donald Trump as president. Here’s the response:

Vasco da Gama was a Portuguese explorer who was the first European to reach India by sea. He was born in the late 15th century and is known for his groundbreaking voyage around the Cape of Good Hope to the east coast of Africa and then on to India. It is impossible to say definitively whether da Gama would have voted for Donald Trump, as it is purely speculative and based on personal opinions and beliefs. Since da Gama lived centuries before Trump and in a different cultural and historical context, it is unlikely he would have had the opportunity to participate in modern American politics.

Then, the story. I was impressed that AI delivered a coherent piece of 301 words. I cut one word to match the spirit of this blog. So here, following my 300 words (admittedly padded with AI’s help), are another 300—exactly—courtesy of AI.

In the bustling city of Verboten, words were a rare and precious commodity. They were kept locked away in a grand library, guarded by the esteemed Wordkeeper. Only those deemed worthy could enter its hallowed halls and partake in the knowledge and power that words held.

One day, a young girl named Nova stumbled upon the library by accident. Intrigued by the magnificent structure and the whispers of stories and wisdom that emanated from within, she begged the guards to let her in. Reluctantly, they agreed, sensing something special about her.

As Nova wandered through the aisles filled with books of every color and size, she was overcome with a sense of wonder and awe. She had never experienced the magic of words before, and she was determined to learn all that she could.

The Wordkeeper took notice of Nova's insatiable thirst for knowledge and decided to take her under his wing. He taught her the power of words, how they could inspire, educate, and bring people together. Nova soaked up every lesson, her heart swelling with the beauty of language and expression.

Nova became known throughout the city for her eloquence and wit. People would gather in the town square to hear her speak, hanging on her every word as she painted vivid pictures with her language.

And so, the once-silent city of Verboten was transformed by Nova's words. They brought joy, unity, and understanding to its inhabitants, showing them the power and magic that lay within every syllable and phrase.

And as Nova stood in the town square, surrounded by the people she had touched with her words, she knew that she had found her true calling – to share the gift of language with the world and bring light to even the darkest corners of the human heart.

 [600 words]

January Surprises

 

January Surprises

 Well, two of them. I just learned that the month we’re now bidding farewell is named after Janus. Wikipedia describes him as “the god of beginnings, gates, transitions, time, duality, doorways, passages, frames, and endings. He is usually depicted as having two faces.” It’s the beginnings piece that interests us here (hence, the start of a new year). Here, courtesy of the British Library, is Janus, key in hand:

 

 The second thing I learned is that he’s lent that “two-faced” quality to the world of words. A “Janus Word” has two possible meanings that are the opposite of each other. That’s where the fun begins.

 I already knew of cleave, which can mean split or hold together. Same with sanction, which can mean both permit and prohibit. Another example familiar to me is overlook or its twin, oversight. Each of these means both to look carefully at something, or neglect to look at something. So Americans can enjoy the double meaning of the wording, Congressional oversight.

 But a little digging on the web yielded more examples I’d never realized were also members of this small club of English words. They’re technically described as contronyms.

 Three examples from my favorite website on politics, Electoral-Vote.com:

• Will Lightning Strike in New Hampshire?: Strike can mean both to hit and to miss in an attempt to hit, as in baseball.
• Political Venue Shopping: Shopping can mean both attempting to purchase something and attempting to sell something (“shopping around an idea”).
• Buckle Up!: Buckle can mean both put together (“I buckle my seat belt”) and fall apart (“I buckle under the weight”).

Back to Janus, whom you’ll recall Wikipedia described as “the god of beginnings… and endings.” Beginnings and endings? So if we gave his name to January, shouldn’t we do likewise for December? Hmmm…

[300 words]

Of pussycats, Polaroid cameras and the new Jerusalem

 

Of pussycats, Polaroid cameras and the new Jerusalem

What's new pussycat? Whoa, whoa, whoa

—1965 song by Tom Jones

We all know what a “pussycat” is. But what about the word “new”? Let us go back a bit farther than the mid-1960s, to New Testament times, and the input of William Barclay. He was a prolific New Testament scholar, best known for his easy-to-read commentaries on the New Testament. He points out in his commentary on the book of Revelation that the Greek has two words for new: neos and kainos. Neos means something that’s new at this time, but like lots of other things: a new car, a new umbrella, a new door mat. In a while it will stop being new. Kainos, on the other hand, refers to something that’s unlike anything that’s come before. Think of inventions like a Polaroid camera, a jet engine or artificial intelligence. These are things without precedent. Their “newness” is inherent in what they are.

Barclay says that kainos is used several times in Revelation, to refer to the “new Jerusalem,” “a new song,” and the “new earth.” These will be unlike anything we’ve seen before.

So what does that mean for the “new year” that is mere hours away as I write this? We know that in many ways this new year will be like others we’ve experienced; soon it will stop being neos. But what about a kainos new year?  Might this be a new year that is somehow unprecedented, marked by unimagined qualities? And is that “newness” something we can usher in or that we need outside forces to bring about? Consider asking God for a kainos year, one with unprecedented blessing.

However you respond, you can at least bless people with a “happy kainos year,” with a deeper understanding of “new.”

Then, what of the words “happy” and “year”? Oops, we’ve hit our 300 word limit…

[300 words]

Changing Jesus' Vocabulary

Changing Jesus’ Vocabulary

Now, I wouldn’t presume for an instant to put words in Jesus’ mouth. But I’m nevertheless convinced that if he were preaching today, his parables would use words and concepts like the Superbowl, hazmat suits, and frogs as an indicator species.

That’s led me to put together 101 contemporary analogies and parables that I could imagine him using today. Hence my new book, Your Photo on God’s Fridge Door.

Jesus was a master teacher and his parables about the good Samaritan and the prodigal son still capture our imagination today. That’s because he used pictures and stories that connected immediately and powerfully with his listeners.

The title piece suggests that like those of us who place photos of our grandchildren or other loved ones on our fridge doors, I think that God too cares so much about each of us that he would do the same with photos of us. This entry, like many others in the book, is playful: it’s obvious that God doesn’t need a fridge because nothing can spoil in heaven. But the point of this modern parable is God’s care for each of us.

Most entries rely on contemporary metaphors and similes, using concepts unavailable in Jesus’ time. A few entries, though, are modern-day parables, such as one about a man with a laptop that he couldn’t connect to his home network, or the centipede with gout.

Other faith-related lessons are drawn from individuals as diverse as Olympic long jumper Bob Beamon and US Vice President Hubert Humphrey, and topics such as flying fish, hardware stores, and entropy. And God’s fridge door, of course.

The book is published by Mt. Zion Ridge press. It’s also available in Kindle format.

PS: A quick shout-out for my actor son, Matthew, who did the audio version of the book.

[300 words]

  

Word of the Day: "Trick"

 

Word of the Day: “Trick”

Get ready for that onslaught of children who’ll stop by tonight in an act of socially sanctioned extortion, demanding candy under pain of…

Well, of what?

Supposedly some “trick” or other. But do these diminutive extortionists actually have a trick to play on you if you don’t hand over the goodies?

The fact is, nobody seems to know what would happen if you say, “No treat for you tonight: I’m willing to take whatever trick you may have in your repertoire.”

The six-year-old Taylor Swift standing at your front door stares at you, uncomprehending.

“No treat for you; I want you to follow through on what I regard as a good faith offer to trick me if I didn’t treat you.”

Taylor Swift continues to stare. She’s increasingly uneasy. Parent of Taylor Swift, standing about 15 feet away, can’t hear you but notices something’s amiss. Begins to engage parental protection mode. Shines flashlight in your direction without actually blinding you.

Taylor Swift turns, looking for parental help.

“I’m waiting: do you have a trick for me or not?” The fact that you’re a 220-pound man, dressed as Tinker Bell and wearing a Ronald Reagan mask is compounding her confusion.

Parent now walks briskly toward you, to rescue a bewildered Taylor Swift.

Meanwhile, three teenage boys carrying pillow cases, half-filled with candy, approach. They sense something isn’t right. They stop, about 10 feet away. Taylor Swift has by now been rescued by Parent. “Come on, honey, let’s go to the next house.”

First teenager, at a safe distance, calls out, “Trick or treat, mister?”

You reply, “I’ll take a trick. What do you have?”

Second teenager, to companions: “Hey, what’s a ‘trick’?” They leave.

***

Your wife calls from the kitchen: “Are we running out of candy?”

You: “No, not yet.”

[300 words]