Is it a problem that is automatic?
Or one kept in the attic?
When I first started this blog carving out out my own little section of the internet I would write something on a particular topic like Reading, Running, Writing or Rhythm.
The tags would put the piece into place where someone who was interested in running might read it. Same for reading or writing or rhythm ( music). Then I would get real people reading my stuff, commenting on it and off we’d go. Relationships formed, such as they were, and people, real people commented and wrote back and forth often to much hilarity.
Now, it seems there are algorithms stalking the blogs looking for key words that lead me to being liked or followed by marketing firms or somebody trying to sell somebody something.
Are people really reading my blogs or am I being cherry picked so I can be in someone’s marketing shopping cart?
Kind of the last thing I need right now.
I was an English major after all…I often link my creativity on these pages, (well, they’re not really pages anymore now are they?)
I’ve linked the creative side of my brain directly to the running side of my brain and they meet somewhere in the middle of my oxygen infused brain in a happy handshake and hug and eventually lead to the keyboard and this page which really isn’t a page as we know that pages used to be composed completely of paper and so good luck with that.
Words and Running – here goes…
I noticed in between couch naps induced by the Daytona 500 a few weeks back that what used to be the ” Medical Facility” at the track is now the ” Care Center.”
Care Center is a softer, more kindly, not scary way of saying there is an ER located on the infield. Because Emergency Room would indicate that one could seriously injured making umpty nine left turns at 200 miles per hour if something should go amiss.
Talked with a friend last night about his dad’s upcoming ” procedure” which the dad insists is not an operation. Seems to me if your chest gets shaved, swabbed with betadine, you get knocked out for a couple of hours and there are surgeons involved then you are have what we used to call in the old days – “Surgery.”
Procedure is a softer, more kindly blah, blah blah see above.
I probably could have titled this post something like “Words are what you make them and not always what they seem to mean.”
I forgot to mention that this post is brought to you by the good folks and me who ran 4 miles today on a glorious afternoon.
The weather is getting warmer, the runs are getting longer.
Looks like the word business is picking up.
A sharp eyed follower of this space recently penned the following in response to my previous post lamenting the misuse of the word your and the slow march to extinction of I’m and I am thanks to Twitter.
I am publishing the letter in it’s unedited entirety in order to present an unbiased point of view blah, blah, blah…and it comes to us from a Mr. P. T. Sailorman who is a tattooed, vegetarian nautical type. It reads thusly…
Dear Mr. Self Appointed Guardian of the English language and all around Smug Punk,
Regarding your recent attempt to right the current state of the English language you neglected to include my singular catch phrase which I should have copyrighted years ago.
It is as follows, ” I yam what I yam.”
No where in your piece do you mention the word “yam” as an acceptable substitute for I’m or I am. Sadly, I too have fallen victim to Twitter’s nasty habit of truncating sentences and depriving all of us of the beauty that words can impart.
I got a lot of criticism from the Sweet Potato lobby regarding my use of the word yam. They sued me but we eventually settled out of court as my attorney, a Mr. Bluto ( no last name given) was able to convince them of the error of their ways. Justice once again prevailed and I am no longer hounded by fickle and capricious legal matters.
In closing, I will gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.
Popeye T. Sailorman.
The words ” I am and I’m” are not happy. When asked about the reason for their unhappiness ” I’m” spoke for both of them.
” We’re being phased out of business” said the unhappy pronoun. ” Hardly anyone uses us anymore in the Twitter world. Our usage has fallen off the charts”
” It’s all because Twitter has a finite number of spaces to offer, which, and I have this on good authority they could easily increase to include me and my buddy.”
” How many Tweets do you read that start with ” Proud to stand with Joe, or Blessed to have Ed as my friend or Happy to be at the local bar/ coffee shop/ whatever? All of them I tell you and where are I am or I’m? We are nowhere to be found.”
” The word blessed used to be only a church word. It was very happy as such and now it’s thrown around like a rag doll. We worked long and hard to get our positions of authority at the beginning of declarative sentences and now look. Zap, we’ve vanished.”
When asked how I am and I’m could regain their lofty status once more I am merely sighed and said, ” Well, I can always find work on bags of dog food but I have to be all capitals and add an S to make it work. I’m is out of luck.”
Finally, both words issued a joint statement asking Twitter to submit to an arbitration hearing chaired by the book “The Elements of Style.” They were not optimistic.
” You have to wonder who is next to go” said I’m noting that ” The word Your besides being confused with yore and you’re was running for it’s life from UR.”
” It’s a travesty. Who is this ur guy? He’s a word made up solely for convenience because people are lazy and cheap. Ur is from ancient Babylonia or someplace like that. Ur is a place.”
” You’ll miss us when we’re gone said I’m. I am agreed. Now, please excuse us while we update our Facebook page.”