That was my imaginary friend, Binker. Binker has strong opinions.
It’s Biblical; upper-case. And: Federal (for the nationwide government or the cartridge company). I don’t care what AP says.
However: quixotic.
Via Glenn Reynolds, who got me into this mess before blending some puppies into one of his macabre protein shakes.
UPDATE: The commenter “My Cat Is Sitting Over There” remarks:
I’m starting to think that we should all leave the Internet to the amateurs. I mean, literally leave the Internet. Stop giving away the fruits of your work and talents.
That means you, Douglas LeBlanc — stop giving away your writing by posting on some blog. That means you, Joy McCann — stop giving away your copyediting expertise by posting in some comments thread. That means all of you, all of us, who make a living via words and communication — stop devaluing your own talents and services by performing them at no cost.
Every newspaper should pull its content off the web and shut down its site. Every professional writer should turn off his personal blog. Every professional copy editor should stop editing copy for free.
This is an old debate about art vs. craft and passion vs. commerce. It is not publishing per se that is dying; it is the bulk of print publishing. And no one who is not a print-magazine fanatic could see magazines being made, whether well or badly, month after month, and still want to read them.
I still love books and magazines, and I still love the written word. Language may be evolving more quickly lately, but it’s in a vibrant way that excites me—though I’m not. Crazy. About. Every. Internet Cliché.
And there is a freedom in writing on the internet that one does not get with print. It’s not just a matter of bloggers having utter license in what subject matter they cover, though that, too: it’s also the fact that no one is bound by column length; no one is writing copy to fit into a certain amount of space, and no copy-fitting need be done. (“Need more verbiage to gain five lines.” “Need to lose ten lines here, and add 11 to the next page.” “Can we track this line out to make graph longer?” “Kill the widow.” “Add this phrase to gain a line.” “Delete.” “Transpose.” “NO NUMERALS AT THE BEGINNING OF A LINE.” “Final line in graph = too short.” “Kill this copy; publisher doesn’t want. Enlarge photo to fill.”)
To write on the web is to write prose that is, like Abraham Lincoln’s legs, exactly the right length to reach the ground.
“Honey,” I tell my husband. “I’ve got a brief manuscript that they’d like me to style per Chicago, but I misplaced my manual. Can you help?”
“Clip a $50 bill to the manuscript pages when you give ’em back,” he responds. “But hand it in as blank pages. Then don’t let them have the actual words until you see their voter registrations. Make sure these say ‘Democrat.’ They’ll need to produce several of these per staffer, and never mind whether there’s an election coming up or not; all of their alter-egos need to vote anyway.”
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{ 1 comment… read it below or add one }
Nope. I will never submit to ‘longterm.’ Never. Two words without a hyphen unless it’s used as a modifier. What’s next? Shortterm? Shorterm? The slippery slope. Professional suicide for anyone other than English majors…with an edge. The line is drawn on the paper.
[ Editor’s note: 😉 ]