Tag Archives: words

What he said:

I’m just going to give you a link today, with the comment “what he said“. From the digs at the current government, to the all round fantabulousness of the word, from the comments about Peter Cook, to the value of it in the lexicon, I agree with what this man says and wish I had said it myself.

(PS – Includes strong language – soz).

(PPS – I am out and about for a few days. No more blogging till next week at the earliest).

Can anyone explain to me ….

… the logic behind the apostrophes in the following piece of text?

You cannot return newspapers and magazines, video’s, dvds, cd’s, tapes or computer games if the security seal has been broken unless such items are faulty.

It comes from Asda On-line’s terms and conditions. (Yes I know Asda are evil but it’s a choice between them and Tesco who are equally evil. Asda have their head office in the north of England, so better the devil that’s local).

A couple of other things amused me about them:

We know it’s a lot of legal stuff, but its been written by top lawyers at huge expense to us, to protect You,

Yeah. Right. And who pays your wages? That’s right. Us, the (capitalised) Customer.

It is easy to tell the bits written by marketing from the bits written by lawyers:

You may also write to us at or fax us on, but this is the slowest and most expensive way for us to deal with Your changes so please try and help us keep costs down and prices low by visiting Our Site or using our order helpline.

Written by Marketing presumably, though it is unforgivably careless to leave out the address and fax number.


A legally binding contract with You will only arise once We have completed delivering the products to You. At this time You become the owner of the products.. This means that You will have no legal liability in connection with Your order until delivery is completed.

I like to think that anyone writing consumer-friendly text would have avoided the phrases “a legally binding contract … will only arise” and “completed delivering”. In fact, why not just cut to the chase and skip everything until the last sentence? And note the double full stop.

All in all it reads like an un-proof-read and poorly translated parody of one of Wagner’s operas, with random acts of capitalisation which would only be acceptable if you were a God translated from the German. And lost, at that.

They have a minimum order value of 25 quid and since the point is to save money by cutting down the chances to impulse buy, I think I’ll go for those soft southern jessies at Tesco after all. Besides which, I’d hate to get into a legal dispute with Asda, surreally entertaining though such a thing would be.

And another thing…

It’s “an unique thing” ok? The indefinite article before a vowel sound or a soft aspirate becomes “an“. With an n. An hypothesis. An honourable mention. An indefinite article in fact. An apple and an apron. An historical and linguistic anomaly.

I don’t care if you say something is “almost unique”; that’s a valid use of a qualifier. I don’t care if you say it is “nearly unique” though I’d wince with other people’s referred pain at “very nearly unique”. But if you say something is “a unique thing” I will, without a doubt, loose it. Entirely.

It won’t be pleasant.


Thank you.

Sign of the times

So where do the doodads go then?

The ‘doodads’? What doodads?

The dot-things. I know there’s dot-things. Where do you put them?

Oh, the diaereses? Over the e.

Over the E? That doesn’t look right.

It’s right.

Hmmm. I’ve never seen it spelled like that before. Over the E?


Not the O?

No. The e at the end. There’s an e at the end. It has diaereses over it.

Oh well. Up to you. If it’s wrong, remember I asked.

Bronte Parsonagë Museum

Buzzword Blingo

Why do people express such a hatred of jargon?

Recently the new CEO of the organisation I work for said Strategy is a word I dislike. I hope it is the word he dislikes and not the concept, otherwise the organisation will end up as a case-study in business school textbooks and I’ll end up looking for work.

The main reason for disliking jargon is that one does not understand it. Here is a list of words I can never remember the meaning of, even though I looked them up in Wikipedia to write this, and even though each has been explained to me more than once:

I guess that tells you as much as you need to know about my interests and my pragmatic approach to them.

A second reason for disliking jargon is that the writer may not understand it. Problematic is an excellent example of this. Does the writer mean beset by problems or do they mean improbable and unlikely? An outcome can be certain but beset by problems – the plane’s crash-landing was problematic, or it can just be unlikely – the question of whether Blair will resign gracefully is very problematic. You end up having to decide whether or not you trust the writer to limit themselves to words they actually understand.

It gets doubly frustrating when one is dealing with concepts for which there is currently no single-word synonym, such as meme, ideolect, dystopia and, yes, strategy. I have read more than one rant recently against the use of the word ‘meme’. Yes, it is over-used. Yes, it is often used by people who don’t know what it means. But there is no other word which means the same thing.

There is a third reason for being afraid of jargon: this when words are used so loosely that anyone can use them for just about anything. This can happen with odd and unexpected words such as percent. I’ve previously mentioned my naivete in thinking that 20% should always mean one fifth of the total, instead of turning up decoratively as the second part of the 80/20 rule.

The main danger, though, is when it is used about abstract and fashionable concepts such as post-modernism and democracy. In fact, each of these denotes an overlapping group of concepts, like a venn diagram of glass-rings left on a pub table at the end of an evening of drunken pontificating. This gives rise to confusion: I might mean a consensus process where all involved have the opportunity to contribute to the debate and the final decision is a compromise agreed by all parties; and you might mean whatever it was that went on in Florida in November 2000. These are both valid uses of the word, but they refer to different processes and outcomes and are based on different assumptions.

Dangerously, Christianity and Islam are two other examples of these. You might understand Christian to refer to someone with mental health problems so confusing that they believe they hear the voice of Jesus in their head, and I might use it when talking about my elderly widowed neighbour who organises jumble sales.

It gets worse: Democracy and strategy are unchallengeable sacred cows, they are universal get-out-of-jail-free cards. It is impossible to criticise any positive statement including the word democracy, and it is almost impossible to challenge any positive statement including the word strategy. To do so is like saying that you think seal-clubbing is a worthwhile and pleasant way for a student to spend their gap-year, or that you think the Queen Mother was a vindictive and sanctimonious manipulator. Those are concepts which are so far outside the perceived wisdom as to be oxymorons, and impossible to think. This, of course, is how Bush and Blair got away with invading Iraq – they used words like a strategy for democracy, put the pea under the cup and swizzled the cups around around a bit and when the one in the middle was lifted we discovered that there never were any WMDs and that there are 3000 civilian deaths there each month now.

Finally of course there are words which are just too seductive not to use. My personal list of these includes: methodology, landscape, domain, and paradigm. I’d like to say I use them in an ironic post-modern kind of way, but unfortunately I have no idea what that particular phrase means. Even more unfortunately, I use them as a kind of short-hand, because if I am talking to colleagues it gets my meaning over quickly and effectively. The thing I like the most about paradigm though, is the way it is spelt.

The challenge to us as communicators is to balance the downsides of using jargon: turning people off, confusing them, irritating them and just plain failing to communicate at all, with the upsides of using the one and only word which sums up our meaning elegantly and accurately without recourse to a sentence or so of explanation.

I guess our CEO feels the same way about strategy as I feel about post-modernism and democracy, that these are Humpty-Dumpty words and because they mean whatever the speaker wants them to mean, they end up meaning nothing at all.

You might enjoy fooling around with the following sites. Having spent a couple of hours messing around on them I feel mentally and physically queasy. Entertained, but queasy.

And because only nonsense is nonsense:

Finally, you can lose hours of your life in subversive thought provoking ways here: