This morning on FaceBook a grammar Nazi criticized a friend’s post — It was a “comma splice”, he said. I pointed out that joining sentences which are very closely linked rhetorically with a mere comma instead of a semi-colon or a colon is a rapidly growing usage, and one endorsed by Strunk & White, at least for short sentences.
Then he got all in my face so to speak. Arrogant and patronizing. He made his mistake, though, when he presumed to call me “dear”.
Don’t get me wrong. I love it when friends call me dear or hun or sweetie, etc. I don’t love it so much when a know-nothing asshole calls me such. Grammar Nazis are know-nothings. —Ignoramuses who have no knowledge of linguistics or even of grammar itself, beyond a set of supposed “rules” that have little to do with real human speech. And this … vertebrate was a jerk, too.
So I told him this: Call me “dear” again and you’ll find your head up your ass, laughing insanely. With his FaceBook photograph which he kindly has made public I could probably even do it, or something to the same general effect. But I haven’t cursed anyone in maybe two years now and there’s a reason for that: stress. I don’t believe in Karma as that word is commonly bandied about in the West. In Hinduism, in Buddhism, the word has a real and sensible meaning, but it does not as used in, mostly, the US. Like the Easter Bunny, it’s far less than a fairy tale, it’s purely a human figment.
Curses, nevertheless, do take their toll on a person. It depends on the individual. Some people it doesn’t affect much. I have reason to believe that I’ve a knack at cursing, truth to tell, but equally true is the huge toll it takes on me mentally and emotionally. —And, apparently, even a silly threat of a curse in a FaceBook comment is more stressful than I can take right now.
I’m beginning to think I have a case of crossed conditions. If fact I’m pretty darned sure about it. So — when I finish this I’m taking a cold bath and asperging myself with natron (3 parts baking soda, 1 part salt — close enough). And then I’ll somehow force myself to perform the Stele of Jeu before tonight ends.
That should be a good start on eliminating both the crossed conditions and the intolerable stress I’ve felt all day.
Much love, Rachel
PS — since some or many of you may not know what “crossed conditions” are, I suppose I should explain. But in another post. Another day. G’night. —R.I.P.