LEND ME YOU EAR: THE FAULT, DEAR READERS, LIES NOT IN THE LANGUAGE

Perhaps some of our readers will recall a column based on the book "Doublespeak" by William Lutz. Nationally recognized as the creator and donor of the annual Doublespeak Award, Lutz once declared himself the winner, to the audible delight of a captive audience.

In "Doublespeak," the author described ways in which language is used to deceive the public -- in government, politics, business, medicine, education, even in interpretation of Scripture. Today, we cite instances not intended to deceive. The distinction between singulars and plurals continues to elude speakers and writers who either have no idea they are ignoring basic English, or consider the rules controversial at best. Too often, there is no controversy to consider. Examples follow.

On a movie-length feature showing pictures by children who, in the eyes of the artist-teacher, need lessons in art to discover who they are, a TV anchor explained: "Art help us understand what life is all about." A needful goal for everyone, but art takes many forms including speaking and writing, and a singular subject requires a singular verb regardless of the number of lessons needed. A lesson in elementary-school English would have helped the anchor.

An engaging documentary depicting newborn triplets, and the many ways their arrival changed the world for their parents, inspired a TV networker to show "how the birth of triplets have been an experience for this couple." Birth is a singular experience even if delivery is tripled, and surely the experience was a singular event. This is doublespeak of a different genre, which well-grounded readers will recognize as "double entendre" -- French for double meaning. Lutz employs the trick throughout "Doublespeak," probably not to save his skin but because it comes naturally to him. No lover of words can resist playing with them.

News less well received than the birth of triplets came from a survey of families unknowingly exposed to the disease Ecola. In a frightening news release we read that "200 families was exposed to Ecola." Almost as devastating to grammarians was the offense against basic English. Had the families been designated as "a group of families", the singular verb should have been used. But the families were separate entities. A sensitive ear would have sounded the alarm for the perpetrator.

Surveys are being conducted by higher educationists to determine the advantage of academic military training such as that offered at West Point over training in ROTC. A newspaper man assured readers that "the quality of students have no difference." No difference between "have" and "make," either? Readers who fail to question such usage may pick up their "I'm-a-Dunce T-shirts at the end of this session.

A flogger for Visa Gold could qualify for a T-shirt of the same print. The announcer states: "At a time when travel agencies is threatened, Visa Gold will turn your green into gold." I doubt Visa Gold could turn my limited gold into green, but to proffer this comment as legal tender could trigger legal action for defamation of Visa Gold Grammar.

A highly-entertaining docudrama demonstrates a new Mexican dance now sweeping dance floors the country over. The art is called "conjuncto." To pronounce it correctly, we must know the Mexican "j" sounds like an "h" in American English, while the "con" indicates a severe sinus attack. The teacher of the dance boasts that "the new dance are being performed the world over and are very bilingual."

Granted that the whole world has become bilingual, must we grant that a bilingual dance can kill English? The author of "Doublespeak," quoting George Orwell's prediction that by 1984 America would be the death of English, points out in triumph that America has spread English all over the world.

"It is not what we are doing `to' English," Lutz affirms. "It's what we are doing `with' it."

The fault, gentle readers, lies not "in" the language, but in the users "of" the language. A bone specialists has just told the world, "A geologist say there is no legal dangers from digging up a skull."

Whatever the legal dangers, the danger to basic English appears to be earth-shaking. The ashes of Julius Caesar shook the ground beneath me while I was digging up a few of his final words to "dear Brutus," for nothing more than a paraphrase for today's title.

Aileen Lorberg is a language columnist for the Southeast Missourian.