Friday 8 April 2011

Signed with a kiss

I never quite know what the etiquette is with regard to signing emails, text messages, Facebook posts and so forth with 'x'.  I've noticed since I moved here that the British seem to be much more free and easy with their 'x's than we emotionally-stunted Irish, who tend to view the insertion of an 'x' at the end of a message as a proposal of marriage, procreation and eventual amalgamation of livestock herds.  I've been trying to infer a system of rules for the beleaguered Paddy.  Here is my preliminary attempt:

1. Only insert an 'x' at the end of an email to a peer.  It doesn't tend to go down well with one's elders, in particular one's superiors.
2. Two 'x's is okay; three is also commonplace.  More than that is possible, but looks a little desperate.
3. The insertion of an 'x' at the end of a message does not signal romantic intent, unless it occurs in violation of rule (1).  Exercise caution.
3a. Furthermore, the use of an 'x' doesn't even necessarily mean you like the person all that much.  So, if you're surprised by the insertion of an 'x' at the end of a message from an unlikely party, scan the message for veiled attempts to get you to do something for the author.  Resist said attempts, even if they are from an attractive member of the opposite sex.  Skepticism is key here.
3b. Irish men, be aware that sometimes British men sign messages to each other with 'x's.  (Not only that, but heterosexual British men do on occasion hug and kiss each other IN REAL LIFE.  Imagine that.)  If you receive such a message, remember: it doesn't mean that the author wants to proposition you.  Resist the urge to break out the holy water and the SuperSoaker.
4. Capitals or lowercase, it's really a matter of personal taste.  Don't waste time trying to make them into little fences, like XxXxX.  This is just silly.

I will update this list as required as I progress through the uncharted waters of British communication etiquette.  Watch this space.

Thursday 7 April 2011

Academic jargon

As a student in Cambridge, I am occasionally overwhelmed by the amount of superfluous and frankly irritating words that get bandied about by fellows and students alike.  I am particularly needled by the widespread practice of using words to confuse rather than to disambiguate.  (Meta-point: maybe it's a matter of perspective; perhaps somebody could legitimately make the same criticism of my use of the word 'disambiguate'.  The language is a slippery beast.)  There are lots of examples of such words, but the one that's particularly getting my goat at the moment is 'specificity'.

As an illustration of my frustration, consider the following definition of specificity from Information Retrieval Design: "Specificity has been a rather slippery term with respect to its meaning and applications in library and information science." Oh, the irony.

Sample conversation about specificity:

X: "You really need to incorporate more specificity into your argument."
Me: "You mean, I really need to be more specific.  Why didn't you just say that?  WHY?"
Books, computers and chairs are sent flying as I leap for X's throat, gibbering with rage.

Well, maybe not, but it's only a matter of time.  Jargonauts, you have been warned.

Word of the day: phthisic

I was reading some Eliot today (hence the subtitle of this blog, in fact) and came across the above gem.  According to our friends at various 'locations' around the internet (pervasive metaphor alert), 'phthisic' refers to a wasting illness of the lungs.  It's derived from the Greek phthysikos, which means consumptive.  The Greeks must have had a fairly murky sense of humour.  Then again, maybe the fashioning of a word for 'consumptive' which actually sounds like somebody wheezing their last breath - and moreover, which may have been the final straw for any unfortunate phthisic attempting to name their affliction - was nothing more than a regrettable oversight.