LEND ME YOUR EAR: THREE ZEROS CAN FRIGHTEN BANK TELLER~S!

Readers of these columns may recall a reference to "Crazy English," Richard Lederer's tongue-in-cheek best seller published some time back. By way of contrast, the author's treasured book, "The Miracle of Language," confirms his deep passion for the Mother Tongue. Like all true linguophiles, Lederer is forever laughing about its manifold inconsistencies while forever affirming that language is "the most glorious of all human inventions."

Reader's Digest, in a regular feature titled "Word Power," emphasizes the importance and difficulty of mastering usage. In the December 1994 issue, the word "exhort" was among the 20 examples.

To "exhort" means to urge or advise. A similar-sounding word, "extort," means to obtain by coercion or intimidation. Shortly before our national election on Nov. 8 this year, a radio staffer informed us that candidates were "extorting" their supporters to contribute to the candidates of their choice. Did the speaker mean "exhort," or was he speaking tongue-in-cheek? Unless we know the individual personally, how can we tell whether he is laughing "with," or "at"?

I do what I can to understand and be understood. Some weeks ago -- to get on with a topic less equivocal -- a friend wrote me about the confusion that exists over the terms "affect" and "effect." This was the subject of my first column on language. To summarize briefly the essence of that 1982 effort:

"Affect" is commonly used only as a verb. It means to influence or express emotion, as in: "Politicians and journalists who are affected adversely by constructive criticism have chosen the wrong vocation." Thin-skinned human beings might do better as closet poets.

"Effect" may be used as a verb or a noun. To "effect" means to bring about change,or to cause to happen. Verb: "Our president has effected changes in the platform of his party." Noun: "The effect on both parties remains controversial."

Since December 1982, my reference library has grown substantially, and it seems that "affect" does serve as a noun in medical psychiatry. Oddly, no examples are offered by any dictionary panelist. Therefore, aside from individuals pursuing careers in that specialized field, let us ignore the "effect" of this addendum, and practice the distinctions according to the ways they "affect" our needs.

Two pairs of words that have caused confusion ever since their inception are "immigrant, emigrant," and "imminent, eminent." The constant flow of illegal immigrants to our country, however, has helped us take greater care in writing and pronouncing the words. Many disillusioned" immigrants," unfortunately, are now being forced to become "emigrants" -- going back to where they came from.

"Imminent" means likely to happen. "Eminent" denotes status -- outstanding, noteworthy, distinguished. I had no idea of becoming "eminent" when I started these columns. My only reaction was one of pure joy in being asked to teach again. To discontinue is not "imminent" at this moment, but who knows what tomorrow will bring?

A Wheelwatcher who has requested help with "ought," "aught," and "nought," I regret to say, is in for a rude awakening. So was I, on consulting a dictionary of synonyms I have used chiefly as a doorstop. For "aught" I knew, "ought" meant that I "ought" to clarify the terms, or take the coward's way out and settle for "zero" as a cypher.

As most literates know, the cypher "zero" is also designated by "nought," but dictionaries define "nought" as an "alteration of a naught," whatever that is. In my book, "aught" has always meant "anything" or "all"; "nought" has meant "nothing" or "zero."

Webster's Dictionary of Synonyms, Copyright 1942, defines the whole lot as interchangeable. So why all this quibbling? Because yet another Wheelwatcher observed that Pat Sajak uses "zero" consistently, and requested our explication.

Gentle Wheelwatchers and older readers, if you were taught to sing the alphabet as I was, by rote, you learned the letter was "o." Years later, I unwittingly reverted to the alphabetical terminology, and shocked a bank teller when she asked for my account number. I said "o" three times in succession, and she thought I was crying "Oh, oh, oh!" "Are you in pain?" she interrupted. "Only in giving you this number," I giggled, much to her relief.

So now we know why Pat Sajak prefers "zero." "Zero" is the safest choice!

Aileen Lorberg is an author, turned columnist for the Southeast Missourian.