the IDIOT

watch out. he’s there, just around the corner, ready to bring rightness to the great un-pedantic. he’s the guy or girl who knows just that one extra set (or more, alas) of supersecret laws for effective and — well, perfect (blush) — writing.

he’s the crabass who isn’t being a prick. oh no! he’s just “copyediting.” no animus. would that you had power to “copyedit”, but you don’t. it’s not his fault. and though he’d like to lead you on the path to rectitude (rectitudnification), it’s too late for you. would that you’d paid attention when somebody told crabass an arbitrary law of formatting that became the way everybody’d do things were he perfect.

she’s the worthless pod who insists without true purpose that “none” means “not one”. only. for shame. but you didn’t know that. there’s no way you could have, because… if you did know it, then you’d be able to copyedit too. but you can’t.

they’re the fuckbots who regularly ask “questions” that end with no.

“Had there been reason for Jaergenmesehn to employ the pluperfect subjunctive, he would have done, no?”

or yes.

“I believe the functionality exists not for speed but for more streamlined efficaciousness, yes?”

count on this type to say “copyedit” (turd word) whenever possible. he will stand in line for hours at the DMV, crossing fingers that “REDACTOR” is still available.

there’s the arbitrary comma nazi, the “x must y” arbitrary jackass, the essential-phrase jukebox operator, the “split infinitive” patroller, the “original” pronunciation/meaning gnostic. whatever the obsession, it’s her knowing something you don’t (because if you knew of it, you’d have done it her way). and he will suffer no dictionary not abbreviated OED.

“My freshman English prof said that we may always know how to pronounce ‘Pulitzer’ by remembering that when you open a door you ‘pull it, sir.’”

pity you didn’t have benefit of such an education. sucks you don’t have the “logic” which presumes that the cuter a mnemonic the more accurate.

“Thanks in advance.”

“Hope this helps.”

eat me.

fanatics.

above all, their fuckups are cute lapses in attention. yours? failure to know. you see, perfection is not shattered by a lapse in attention — not like that time mommy forgot to pin my diaper tightly and i got nasty poop on my fingers. i got poop on my fingers…

poop, on my fingers.

damn you, mommy!

Posted 20050516 04:44 under government dumb, wikipedia. Follow responses through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.