Hammering the language into rubble, China-style

I’m worried about the future of the English language. It’s not that I’m a member of the Grammar Police or anything. I don’t go off the deep end when somebody spells “light” l-i-t-e. I never cared much for that particular word when followed by the word “beer,” but that’s another story. And it doesn’t bother me when someone begins a sentence with a conjunction (such as “and”).

I’ve got no problem with colloquialisms, double negatives or slang. As far as I’m concerned, slang ain’t gonna hurt nobody. I’m not especially keen on profanity (despite occasional claims to the contrary on the part of my numerous detractors), but when it comes down to it, a few dirty words aren’t going to ruin my day, either.

Dangling participles are supposed to be a literary no-no, but I sometimes use them anyway, as most writers on occasion do. There are a few other odds and ends of the language which I see abused on a regular basis, but none bother me much.

So how did I get the idea the English language is destined for the scrap heap? It began with the purchase of a toy for my grandson, Edison.

The two of us were at a local discount shopping store whose name begins with a large, red K. I was there shopping for a new mechanical pencil. My old one, which I’ve had for years, finally threw a rod, or whatever it is old mechanical pencils do.

Edison, however, had other plans. For reasons I don’t understand, five-year-olds would prefer to shop for toys rather than pencils. Any toys. Or more specifically, all toys. His latest ploy is to reason with me concerning his deep-seated need for every brightly-colored piece of plastic in the store.

At any rate, my willpower in this regard is notoriously lacking and the little beggar came away from the store with a new toy. It was a cheap one, at least, a plastic microphone that adds an echo effect to the voice of the user. Actually, I had as much fun playing with it as Edison did.

But the real fun came when I got home and read the packaging the thing came in. On the back of the microphone’s shrink-wrapped cardboard card were the instructions. The mere notion that a toy that simple to operate came with instructions struck me as humorous, so I went ahead and read them. Or tried to.

It soon became apparent that the instruction writer’s native tongue was “OTE” (Other Than English). I flipped the package over. Sure enough, stamped there in tiny letters was the all-too-common phrase, “Made in China.”

I flipped the card again and continued with the instructions. They went something like this:
“To enjoyment most get from megaphone follow instructions most careful and fun. Hold in hand while voice through the megaphone or shake to get magical voice for occasional need. Need batteries does not will work on voice.

“Many hours of fun will be have. For results. Keep out children age 3. Will be for party and many times to fun.”

The instructions went on this way for another few paragraphs, and by the time I’d finished them, I had no idea how to use the darned microphone. As I understood it, I was supposed to shake my magical voice, but only occasionally. And I would have fun and be invited to parties if only I could keep batteries away from three-year-olds.

These were paragraphs that had been struck with a grammatical sledgehammer and left to sort themselves out. This wasn’t the first time I’ve encountered this sort of convoluted English. It’s everywhere in modern society. Most noticeably, it’s where we need it least, in places such as manuals for assembling complicated machinery. What homeowner hasn’t cursed together a lawn mower or stereo with instructions which read: “Taking most care not to bend the tab red, please insert slot M into place that is provided for and with screwdriver turn but not too tight for good that is of mower engine.”

It’s enough to drive you crazy. But more than that, it represents the first tentative mallet blows which, if left unchecked, will eventually reduce our native tongue to so much verbal rubble.

I can just hear Edison and the rest of his generation by the time they reach their teens, after years of reading material from the Mysterious Orient: “Excuse please,” he will say to his mother while she sits reading the evening paper. “The car, of which I am borrowed has in traffic. To left but not too hard an other direction automobile vehicle was met.”

“That’s nice,” she’ll reply. “But you’ve got homework.”

He will shrug and go upstairs to study. It won’t be till she goes out to the garage the next day that she’ll realize Eddie has totaled the family car.

Or how about this one: “May I to store please with card most plastic with intent of employment keep and years many?” Edison will ask.

“It’s about time,” Edison’s father will answer, thinking the kid intends to get a real job at one of the stores in the Mall. It won’t be until the end of the month, when he gets his Visa bill, that he’ll figure out the employment Eddie was talking about was his father’s and he’ll have to put off retirement for a few years just to pay off the bill his son has run up.

The way I see it, there’s only one way to combat this linguistic menace: Learn to speak the language myself. Starting today, I’m going to covet every Republic of China instruction manual I can lay my hands on. And I’m going to study them till it kills me. I figure by the end of next year I should be reasonably fluent.

In fact, I may as well start practicing as soon as possible. To that end, please to read as well as in seven days will with most notable return again to column make.

Translation: See you next week.

To contact Mike Taylor with your questions, comments, or inquiries into his new Chinese-English translation service, e-mail mtaylor@midmich.net or write via snail mail to: Mike Taylor, c/o Valley Media, Inc., PO Box 9, Jenison, MI 49429.

Comments

[Clint]

"What homeowner hasn’t cursed together a lawn mower or stereo...."
Great way to put it!

[aunt.coni]

I just recently stumbled across your blog site, etc. This post about "Hammering the language into rubble, China-style" had me laughing (and crying at the same time) while I read your words. Fabulous!
Also, I did the same thing when I read about the "ants"
~ you, young man, are brilliant!
I look forward to reading more of your words.
I see you are in Jenison ~ do you write for the Advance? I live in the Grand Rapids area and am familiar with that paper.
'nuff sed for now!

[Mike Taylor]

Thanks, aunt.coni for your kind words, especially the "young" man thing! Don't hear that so often these days. I do write for the Advance newspapers, but live in a small town about an hour's drive north of Grand Rapids. My column appears in most of the Advance editions on a weekly basis.