IV. Additional tasks. III. Follow-up activities

III. Follow-up activities

Find at least ten cases of illogical, misleading usage of words in your native language (or any other foreign language you speak) and role-play the following situation. You are a native speaker. A foreigner is confused by some expressions in your native language and asks you to help them clarify the meaning of some misleading expressions. Before you act the situation out, discuss the most appropriate means (verbal or nonverbal) to get the message clear to a foreigner.

Use the text to answer the following questions.

1. What accounts for the fact that has English become the most widely-spoken languages in the world? In what spheres is English applicable on an international level?

2. What words can be “misleading” in terms of their form? Explain the essence of this phenomenon.

3. The author gives a lot of examples of inconsistent, illogical usage of words. Can you recall any?

4. Why does the author say that “we English users are constantly standing meaning on its head”?

5. What plural forms do not have corresponding singular forms? What word/form would you use if you were to express the idea of singularity?

6. Which words can be used only with a negative prefix?

3. Analyze the examples in bold type from the text. Can they be considered incongruous? Do native speakers/foreigners perceive them as such? Give your reasons. Translate these expressions into Russian. Do the translated variants produce the same humorous effect? Think of similar incongruous expressions in the Russian language and ways of translating them into English.

1. You are a) a student learning a foreign language; b) a professor of linguistics; c) a journalist writing for a popular magazine. Get ready to participate in a panel discussion and prepare a three-minute speech on the problem: All languages are a little crazy and “contradict themselves”.

2. You are a teacher of the English language. Explain to your students that it is not enough to know a foreign language well. In order not to be confronted with embarrassing situations, one has to be aware of the norms of its usage.

Task 1. Check your knowledge of English by doing the following quiz. When you are through and get the correct answers, say which words seemed the most confusable ones. The meaning of which unfamiliar words did you manage to figure out correctly? What helped you guess their actual meaning?

Confusable English

Here is a small quiz that presents more words that are not what they seem. Beware and be wary as you choose the correct definition for each entry. Avoid taking a simplistic (there’s another one!) approach.

1. antebellum

a) against women; b) against war; c) after the war; d) before the war.

2. apiary

a) school for mimics; b)place where apes are kept; c) place where bees are kept; d) cupboard for peas.

3. aquiline

a) resembling an eagle; b) relating to water; c) relating to synchronized swimming; d) resembling a porcupine.

4. cupidity

a) strong desire for wealth; b) strong desire for love; c) strong desire for amusement parks; d) obtuseness.

5. disinterested

a) lacking a bank account; b) unbiased; c) bored; d) lacking rest.

6. enormity

a) great wickedness; b) great size; c) normal state; d) cowardice.

7. forestress

a) ancient hair style; b) female forester; c) dread anticipation; d) emphasis on first part of word.

8. friable

a) easily crumbled; b) easily fried; c) unhealthy; d) relating to holy orders.

9. herpetology

the study of a) herbs; b) herpes; c) female pets; d) reptiles.

10. hippophobia

the fear of a) hippopotami; b) horses; c) getting fat; d) hippies.

11. infinitesimal

a) very small; b) very large; c) relating to intestines; d) hesitant.

12. inflammable

a) calm; b) incredulous; c) not easily set on fire; d) easily set on fire.

13. ingenuous

a) insincere; b) innocent; c) clever; d) men­tally dull.

14. meretricious

a) falsely attractive; b) worthy; c) good tasting; d) diseased.

15. presently

a) generous with gifts; b) now; c) soon; d) presidentially.

16. prosody

the study of a) drama; b) music; c) prose; d) versification.

17. restive

a) serene; b) festive; c) fidgety; d) pensive.

18. risible

a) disposed to laugh; b) easily lifted; c) fertile; d) relating to dawn.

19. toothsome

a) displaying prominent teeth; b) missing teeth; c) palatable; d) serrated.

20. votary

a) democratic country; b) enthusiast; c) electoral college; d) revolving tool.

Task 2. Read the text and give an extended answer to the following questions. How can it happen that a single word develops two polar meanings? Are there any Janus-faced words in Russian? Can they become a source of confusion and misperception or is the meaning always clear from the context?

Janus-Faced English

In the year 1666 a great fire swept through London and destroyed more than half the city, including three quarters of St Paul’s Cathedral. Sir Christopher Wren, the original designer of the Cathedral and perhaps the finest architect of all time, was commissioned to rebuild the great edifice. He began in 1675 and finished in 1710, a remarkably short period of time for such a task. When the magnificent edifice was completed, Queen Anne, the reigning mon­arch, visited the Cathedral and told Wren that his work was “awful, artificial, and amusing”. Sir Christopher, so the story goes, was delighted with the royal compliment, be­cause in those days awful meant “full of awe, awe-inspiring”, artificial meant “artistic”, and amusing, from the muses, meant “amazing”.

That was three hundred years ago. Today, the older, tottering meanings of awful, artificial, and amusing have virtually disappeared from popular use. Indeed, the general rule of language is that when a single word develops two polar meanings, one will become obsolete. Occasionally, though, two diametrically opposed meanings of the same English word survive, and the technical term for these schizophrenics is contronym. More popularly, they are known as Janus-faced words because the Greek god Janus had two faces that looked in opposite directions.

Here’s a little finger exercise. Remember that I’m the teacher, so you must try to do what I ask. Make a circle with the fingers on your left hand by touching the tip of your index finger to the tip of your thumb. Now poke your head through that circle.

If you unsuccessfully tried to fit your head through me small digital circle, you (and almost any reader) thought that the phrase “poke your head” meant that your head was the poker. But if you raised your left hand with the circle of fingers up close to your forehead and poked your right index finger through that circle until it touched your forehead, you realized that the phrase “poke your head” has a second, and opposite, meaning: that the head is the pokee.

Here are two sentences that will solidify your under­standing of how Janus-faced words work:

“The moon is VISIBLE tonight.”

“The lights in the old house are always INVISIBLE.”

Although the two capitalized words are opposite in meaning, both can be replaced by the same word – out. When the moon or sun or stars are out, they are visible When the lights are out, they are invisible.

Here are some contronymic sentences that show how words wander wondrously and testify to the fact that noth­ing in the English language is absolute:

with. alongside; against: a. England fought with France against Germany, b. England fought with France;

clip. fasten; separate: a. Clip the coupon to the news­paper. b. Clip the coupon from the newspaper;

fast. firmly in one place; rapidly from one place to another: a. The pegs held the tent fast. b. She ran fast;

bolt. to secure in place; to dart away: a. I’ll bolt the door. Did you see the horse bolt?;

trim. add things to; cut away: a. Let’s trim the Christmas tree. b. Let’s trim the hedge;

dust. remove material from; spread material on: a. Three times a week they dust the floor. b. Three times each season they dust the crops;

weather. withstand; wear away: a. Strong ships weather storms. b. Wind can weather rocks;

handicap. advantage, disadvantage: a. What’s your handicap in golf? b. His lack of education is a handicap;

commencement. beginning; conclusion: a. Beautiful weather marked the commencement of spring. b. She won an award at her high school commencement;

bold up. support: hinder: a. Please hold up the sagging branch. b. Accidents hold up the flow of traffic;

keep up. continue to fail; continue to stay up: a. The farmers hope that the rain will keep up. b. Damocles hoped that the sword above his head would keep up;

left. departed from; remaining: a. Ten people left the room. b. Five people were left in the room;

dress. put items on; remove items from: a. Let’s dress for the ball. b. Let’s dress the chicken for cooking;

temper. soften; strengthen: a. You must temper your anger with reason. b. Factories temper steel with additives;

cleave. separate; adhere firmly, a. A strong blow will cleave a plank in two. b. Bits of metal cleave to a magnet;

strike. secure in place; remove: a. Use a firm grip to strike the nail. b. When the show is over, we’ll strike the set;

give out. produce; slop producing: a. A good furnace will give out enough energy to heat the house. b. A broken furnace will often give out;

sanction. give approval of; censure: a. The plans to sanction the event. b. Should our country impose a new sanction on Libya?;

screen. view; hide from view: a. Tonight the critics will screen the film. b. Defensemen mustn’t screen the puck;

oversight. careful supervision; neglect; a. The foreman was responsible for the oversight of the project. b. The foreman’s oversight ruined the success of the project;

qualified. competent, limited: a. The candidate for the job was fully qualified. b. The dance was a qualified success;

moot. debatable; not worthy of debate: a. Сарital punishment is a moot point. b. That the earth revolves around the sun is a moot point;

certain. definite; difficult to specify: a. I am certain about what I want in life. b. I have a certain feeling about the plan;

mortal. deadly, subject to death: a. The knight delivered a mortal blow. b. All humans are mortal;

buckle. fasten together; fall apart: a. Safe drivers buckle their seat belts. b. Unsafe buildings buckle at the slightest tremor of the earth;

trip. to stumble; to move gracefully: a. Don’t trip on the curb. b. Let’s trip the light fantastic;

put out. generate; extinguish: a. The candle put out enough light for us to see. b. Before I went to bed, I put out the candle;

unbending. rigid; relaxing: a. On the job Smith is completely unbending. b. Relaxing on the beach is a good way of unbending;

wear. endure through use; decay through use; a. This suit will wear like iron. b. Water can cause mountains to wear;

scan. examine carefully, glance at hastily: a. I scan the poem. b. Each day, I scan the want ads;

fix. restore; remove part of: a. It’s time to fix the fence. b. It’s time to fix the bull;

seeded. with seeds; without seeds: a. The rain nour­ished the seeded field. b. Would you like some seeded raisins?;

critical. opposed; essential to: a. Joanne is critical of our effort. b. Joanne is critical to our effort;

better. admire more; be suspicious of: a. I think better of the first proposal than the second. b. If I were you, I’d think better of that proposal;

take. obtain; offer a. Professional photographers take good pictures. b. Professional models take good pictures;

impregnable. invulnerable to penetration; able to be impregnated: a. The castle was so strongly built that it was impregnable. b. Treatments exist for making a childless woman more impregnable;

below par. excellent; poor: a. Her below par score won the golf tournament. b. I’m disappointed in your below par performance on the spelling test;

down hill. adverse; easy: a. When the source of capital dried up, the fortunes of the corporation went down hill. b. After you switch to diet drinks, it will be all down hill for your weight-loss program;

wind up. start; end: a.1 have to wind up my watch. b. Now I have to wind up this discussion of curious and contrary contronyms.

Task 3. Read the text and spot animal idioms. In what situations would their usage be appropriate? How many idioms could you use in e.g. a description of a person without making it sound unnatural? Describe a person you know in five sentences using 5 animal idioms, then choose the best description among the students in your class.

A Visit to the Language Zoo

Many children’s magazines feature picture puzzles in which the young readers are asked to identify a number of hidden animals. In a cloud may lurk a cow, in the leaves of a tree may be concealed a fish, and on the side of a house may be soaring an eagle. The English language is like those children’s pictures. Take a gander at what follows, and you will discover almost three hundred creatures from the animal world hidden in the sentences, a veritable menagerie of zoological metaphors. (Did you catch one of them in the last sentence?)

Human beings, proclaims one dictionary, are distinguished from the other animals “by a notable development of brain with a resultant capacity for speech and abstract thinking”. Perhaps so, but how truly different is our species from our fellow organisms with whom we share the planet?

I mean holy cow, holy cats, and holy mackerel – a little bird told me that the human race is filled with congressional hawks and doves who fight like cats and dogs ‘til the cows come home, Wall Street bulls and bears who make a beeline for the goose that lays the golden egg, cold fish and hotdoggers, early birds and night owls, lone wolves and social butterflies, young lions and old crows, and lame ducks, sitting ducks, and dead ducks.

Some people are horny studs on the prowl for other party animals, strutting peacocks who preen and fish for compliments, clotheshorses who put on the dog with their turtlenecks and hush puppies, young bucks and роnytailed foxy chicks in puppy love who want to get hitched, or cool cats and kittenish lovebirds who avoid stag parties to bill and coo and pet and paw each other in their love nests.

Other people have a whale of an appetite that compels them to eat like pigs (not birds), drink like fish, stuff themselves to the gills, hog the lion’s share, and wolf their elephantine portions until they become plump as partridges. Still others are batty, squirrelly, bug-eyed, cod-eyed cuckoos who are mad as march hares and look like something the cat dragged in; crazy as coots, loons, a bedbugs; and who come at us like bats out of hell with their monkeyshines and drive us buggy with their horsing around.

As we continue to separate the sheep from the goats and to pigeonhole the “human” race, we encounter catnapping, slothful sluggards; harebrained jackasses who, like fish out of water, doggedly think at a snail’s pace; dumb bunnies and dumb clucks who run around like chickens with their heads cut off; birdbrained dodos who are easily gulled, buffaloed, and outfoxed; asinine silly gooses who lay an egg whenever, like monkey-see-monkey-do, they parrot and ape every turkey they see; clumsy oxen who are bulls in china shops; and top dogs on their high horses, big fish in small ponds, and cocky bullies high up in the pecking order who rule the roost and never work for chicken feed.

Leapin’ lizards, we can scarcely get through a day without meeting crestfallen, pussyfooting chickens who stick their heads in the sand; henpecked underdogs who get goose pimples and butterflies and turn tail; scared rabbits who play possum and cry crocodile tears before they go belly up; spineless jellyfish who clam up with a frog in the throat whenever the cat gets their tongue; mousy worms who quail and flounder and then, quiet as mice, slink off and then return to the fold with their tails between their legs; and shrimpy pipsqueaks who fawn like toadies until you want to croak.

Let’s face it. It’s a dog-eat-dog world we live in. But doggone it, without beating a dead horse, I do not wish to duck or leapfrog over this subject. It’s time to fish or cut bait, to take the bull by the horns, kill two birds with one stone, and, before everything goes to the dogs and we’ve got a tiger by the tail, to give you a bird’s-eye view of the animals hiding in our language.

Dog my cats! It’s a bear of a task to avoid meeting catty, shrewish, bitchy vixens with bees in their bonnets whose pet peeve and sacred cow is that all men are swine and chauvinist pigs and in their doghouse. Other brutes who get your goat and ruffle your feathers are antsy, backbiting, crabby, pigheaded old buzzards, coots, and goats who are no spring chickens, who are stubborn as mules, and who grouse, bug, badger, dog, and hound you like squawking, droning, waspish gadflies that stir up a hornets’ nest and make a mountain out of a molehill.

And speaking of beastly characters that stick in your craw, watch out for the parasites, bloodsuckers, sponges, and leeches who worm their way into your consciousness and make you their scapegoats; the rat finks and stool pigeons who ferret out your deepest secrets and then squeal on you, let the cat out of the bag, and fly the coop without so much as a “Tough turkey. See you later, alliga­tor”; the snakes-in-the-grass who come out of the wood­work, open a can of worms, and then, before you smell a rat, throw you a red herring; the serpentine quacks who make you their gullible guinea pig and cat’s-paw; the lowdown curs and dirty dogs who sling the bull, give you a bum steer, and send you on a wild goose chase barking up the wrong tree on a wing and a prayer; the card sharks who hawk their fishy games, monkey with your nest egg, put the sting on you, and then fleece you; the vultures who hang like albatrosses around your neck, who live high on the hog, who feather their own nests and then – the straw that breaks the camel’s back – crow about it looking like the cat that swallowed the canary; the black sheep who play cat and mouse and then cook your goose and make a monkey out of you with their shaggy dog stories before they hightail it out of there; and the lousy varmints, pole­cats, skunks, and eels who sell you a white elephant or a pig in a poke and, when the worm turns and you discover the fly in the ointment, weasel their way out of the deal. It’s a real jungle out there, just one unbridled rat race; in fact, it’s for the birds.

But let’s talk turkey and horse sense. Don’t we go a tad ape and hog wild over the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed eager beavers who always go whole hog to hit the bull’s-eye; the eagle-eyed tigers who are always loaded for bear; and the ducky, loosey-goosey rare birds who are wise as owls and happy as larks and clams? Lucky dogs like these are the cat’s pajamas and the cat’s meow, worthy of being lionized. From the time they’re knee-high to a grasshopper, they’re in the catbird seat and the world is their oyster.

So before you buzz off, I hope you'll agree that this exhibit of animal metaphors has been no fluke, no hogwash, no humbug. I really give a hoot about the animals hiding in our English language, so, for my swan song. I want you to know that, straight from the horse's mouth, this has been no dog-and-pony show and no cock-and-bull story.

It really is a zoo out there.

Task 4. This time, spot food idioms and explain whether they are commonly used in English or not. Make a list of English food idioms, classify them and try to make a similar list of food idioms in Russian. Was it an easy task for you to recall food idioms in your native language? What accounts for this fact?

You Said a Mouthful

Now that you have uncovered the hidden herds of animals, flocks of birds, swarms of insects, and universities of fish that metaphorically run, fly, creep, and swim through our English language, it’s lime to nibble on another spicy, meaty, juicy honey of a topic that I know you’ll want to savor and relish. Feast your eyes now on the veritable potpourri of mushrooming food expressions that grace the table of our English language and season our tongue. As we chew the fat about the food-filled phrases that are packed like sardines and sandwiched into our everyday conversations, I’ll sweeten the pot with some tidbits of food for thought guaranteed to whet your appetite.

I know what’s eating you. I’ve heard through the grapevine that you don’t give a fig because you think I’m nutty as a fruitcake; that you’re fed up with me for biting off more than I can chew; that you want me to drop this subject like a hot potato because I’m a spoiled rotten weenie; and that you’re giving me the raspberry for asking you to swallow a cheesy, corny, mushy, saccharine, seedy, soupy, sugarcoated, syrupy topic that just isn’t your cup of tea.

I understand that you’re beet red with anger that I’m feeding you a bunch of baloney, garbage, and tripe; that I’ve rubbed salt in your wounds by making you ruminate on a potboiler that’s no more than a tempest in a teapot; that I’ve upset your apple cart by rehashing an old chestnut that’s just pie in the sky and won’t amount to a hill of beans; that you want to chew me out for putting words in your mouth; mat you’re boiling and simmering because you think I’m a candy-assed apple polisher who’s out to egg you on.

But nuts to all that. That’s the way the cookie crum­bles. Eat your heart out and stop crying in your beer. I’m going to stop mincing words and start cooking with gas, take my idea off the back burner and bring home the bacon without hamming it up. No matter how you slice it, this fruitful, tasteful topic is the greatest thing since sliced bread, the icing on the cake. Rather than crying over spilt milk and leaping out of me frying pan and into the fire, I’m going to put all my eggs into one basket, take potluck, and spill the beans. I’m cool as a cucumber and confident that this crackerjack, peachy-keen, vintage feast that I’ve cooked up will have you eating out of the palm of my hand.

I don’t wish to become embroiled in a rhubarb, but beefing and stewing sound like sour grapes from a tough nut to crack – kind of like the pot calling the kettle black. But if you’ve digested the spoonfed culinary meta­phors up to this point in this meal-and-potatoes chapter, the rest will be gravy, duck soup, a piece of cake, and easy as pie – just like taking candy from a baby.

Just think of the various people we meet every day. Some have taste. Others we take with a grain of salt. Some drive us bananas and crackers. Still others are absolutely out to lunch:

* the young sprouts and broths of lads who feel their oats and are full of beans;

* the sally, crusty oldsters who are wrinkled as prunes and live to a ripe old age well beyond their salad days;

* the peppery smart cookies (no mere eggheads, they) who use their beans and noodles to cut the mustard;

* the half-baked meat heads, the flaky couch pota­toes, and the pudding-headed vegetables who drive us nuts with their slow-as-molasses peabrains and who gum up the works and are always in a pickle, a jam, hot water, the soup, or a fine kettle of fish;

* the unsavory, crummy, hard-boiled, ham-fisted rot­ten apples with their cauliflower ears, who can cream us, beat the stuffing out of us, make us into mincemeat and hamburger, and knock us ass over teakettle and flatter than a pancake;

* the mealymouthed marshmallows, Milquetoasts, milksops, half-pints, and cream puffs who walk on egg-shells and whose knees turn to jelly as they gingerly waffle and fudge on every issue to see which side their bread is buttered on;

* the carrot-topped, pizza-faced string beans and bean poles who, with their lumpy Adam’s apples, are long drinks of water;

* the top bananas, big cheeses, and big breadwinners who ride the gravy train by making a lot of lettuce and dough and who never work for peanuts or small potatoes;

* the honeys, tomatoes, dumplings, cheesecakes, and sweetie pies with their peaches-and-cream complexions, strawberry blond hair, almond eyes, and cherry lips;

* the saucy tarts who wiggle their melons and buns and fritter away their time buttering up their meal tickets and milking their sugar daddies dry;

* the salt-of-the-earth good eggs who take the cake, know their onions, make life a bowl of cherries, and become the apples of our eye and the toasts of the town.

Hot dog! I hope you’re pleased as punch that this souped-up topic is a plum, not a lemon: the berries, not the pits. The proof of the pudding is in the eating, and this cream of the crop of palate-pleasing food figures is bound to sell like hotcakes. I’m no glutton for punishment for all the tea in China, but, if I’m wrong, I’ll eat crow and humble pie. I don’t wish to take the words right out of your mouth, but, in a nutshell, it all boils down to the fact that every day we truly eat our words.

Task 5. In the text below you will find violent idioms. What connotation do they have? Are they appropriate in any text/speech? In what everyday situations can you use them? Watch several TV programmes and read several newspaper/magazine articles. Where are violent idioms used more commonly and why?

Violent English

Everyone deplores violence these days. Many articles and books, radio and television programs, and self-help and encounter groups are designed to help us curb our tempers. And with the specters of international terrorism and nuclear warfare haunting our horizon, it may be that the future of the human race depends upon our ability to channel our violent impulses and to locate solutions based on cooperation rather than aggression.

When we tackle, wrestle, and grapple with the problem of violence, we are bound to be struck by a crucial idea. If our view of reality is shaped and defined by the words and phrases we use, then violence is locked deep in our thoughts, frozen in the clichés and expressions of everyday life. “I’ll be hanged!” we are likely to exclaim as this insight hits us with a vengeance. “I believe that I’ve hit the nail right on the head!”

Let’s take a stab at the issue of violence in our everyday parlance with a crash course on the words we use to describe disagreements. First, we rack our brains assembling an arsenal of arguments. Then we attempt to demolish the opposition’s points with a barrage of criti­cism, attack their positions by nailing them dead to rights, letting them have it with both barrels, and shooting down their contentions. We break their concentration by punc­turing their assumptions, cut them down to size by ham­mering away at their weaknesses, torpedo their efforts with barbed criticism, and then, when push comes to shove, assault their integrity with character assassination. If all else fails, we try to twist their arms and kill them with kindness.

Now we can begin to understand the full impact of the expression “to have a violent disagreement ”.

The world of business is a veritable jungle of cutthroat competition, a rough-and-tumble school of hard knocks, and dog-eat-dog world of backbiting, backstabbing, and hatchet jobs. Some companies spearhead a trend of price gouging. Other firms beat the competition to the punch and gain a stranglehold on the market by fighting tooth and nail to slash prices in knock-down-drag-out, no-holds-barred price wars. Still other companies gain clout by putting the squeeze on their competitors with shakeups, raids, and hostile takeovers. Then the other side gets up in arms and screams bloody murder about such a low blow.

No wonder that business executives are often recruited by headhunters. No wonder that bleeding hearts who can’t fight their own battles are likely to get axed, booted, canned, discharged, dumped, fired, kicked out, sacked, or terminated.

One would hope that sporting contests would provide an escape from life’s daily grind. But once again we find mayhem and havoc embedded in the adversarial expressions of matters athletic. In fact, we can’t get within striking distance of a big game without running or bumping into some ticket scalper who’s out to rip us off and get away with murder. Once inside the stadium or arena, we witness two teams trying to battle, beat, clobber, crush, dominate, maul, pulverize, rout, slaughter, steamroll, thrash, throttle, wallop, whip, wipe out, kick the pants off, make mince-meat out of, stick it to, and wreak havoc on each other with battle plans that include suicide squeezes, grand slams, blitzes, shotgun offenses, aerial bombs, punishing ground attacks, and slam dunks. Naturally both sides hope that they won’t choke in sudden death overtime.

Fleeing the battlefields of athletics at breakneck speed, we seek release from our violent language by taking in some entertainment. We look to kill some time at a dynamite show that’s supposed to be a smash hit blockbuster and a slapstick riot that we’ll get a kick and a bang out of. But the whole shootin’ match turns out to be a bomb and a dud, rather than a blast and a bash.

The lead may be a knockout and stunning bombshell, but she butchers her lines and her clashing outfit grates on our nerves. Sure as shootin’, we’re burned up and bored to death with the sheer torture of it all. We feel like tearing our hair out, eating our heart out, gnashing our teeth, snapping at others, and kicking ourselves. So, all bent out of shape, we go off half-cocked and beat it home feeling like battered, heartbroken nervous wrecks. The situation is explosive. We’ve been through the meat grinder, and we’re ready to blow our tops and stacks, shoot off our mouths, wring somebody’s neck, knock his block and socks off, and go on the warpath. We’ve got a real axe to grind.

Even alcohol and drugs won’t offer any releases from the prison of violence in which we English speakers are incarcerated. However blitzed, bombed, hammered, plowed, smashed, stoned, or wasted we become, we must eventually crash. It’s like using a double-edged sword to cut off our nose to spite our face.

If language is truly a window to the world and if the words and expressions we use truly affect the way we think, can we ever really stamp out violence?

Task 6. Read the text. What does Farmer Pluribus suggest in order to improve and simplify the English language? See how many incorrect plural forms you can identify. Explain how they are formed and give the correct variants of the plural forms. Which of them are commonly used nowadays and which ones have become obsolete?

Foxen in the Henhice

Recently I undertook an extensive study of American dialects, and a friend told me about a farmer named Eben Pluribus who spoke a most unusual kind of English. So I went to visit Farmer Pluribus, and here is a transcript of our interview:

“Mr. Pluribus. I hear that you’ve had some trouble on the farm.”

“Well, young fella, times were hard for a spell. Almost every night them danged foxen were raiding my henhice.”

“Excuse me, sir,” I interjected. “Don’t you mean foxes?”

“Nope, I don’t,” Pluribus replied. “I use oxen to plow my fields, so it’s foxen that I’m trying to get rid of.”

“I see. But what are henhice?” I asked.

“Easy. One mouse, two mice; one henhouse, two henhice. You must be one of them city slickers, but surely you know that henhice are what them birds live in that, when they’re little critters, they utter all them peep.”

“I think I’m beginning to understand you, Mr. Pluribus. But don’t you mean peeps?”

“Nope, I mean peep. More than one sheep is a flock of sheep, and more than one peep is a bunch of peep. What do you think I am, one of them old ceet?”

“I haven’t meant to insult you, sir,” I gulped. “But I can’t quite make out what you’re saying.”

“Then you must be a touch slow in the head,” Farmer Pluribus shot back. “One foot, two feet; one coot, Iwo ceet. I’m just trying to easify the English language, so I make all regular plural nouns irregular. Once they’re all irregular, then it’s just the same like they’re all regular.” “Makes perfect sense to me,” I mumbled. “Good boy,” said Pluribus, and a gleam came into his eyes. “Now, as I was trying to explain, them pesky foxen made such a fuss that all the meese and lynges have gone north.”

“Aha!” I shouted. “You’re talking about those big antlered animals, aren’t you? One goose, two geese; one moose, a herd of meese. And lynges is truly elegant – one sphinx, a row of sphinges: one lynx, a litter of lynges.”

“You’re a smart fella, sonny,” smiled Pluribus. “You see, I used to think that my cose might scare away them foxen, but the cose were too danged busy chasing rose.”

“Oh, oh. You’ve lost me again,” I lamented. “What are сosе and rose?”

“Guess you ain’t so smart after all,” Pluribus sneered.

“If those is the plural of that, then cose and rose got to be the plurals of cat and rat.”

“Sorry that I’m so thick, but I’m really not one of those people who talk through their hose,” I apologized, picking up Pluribus’s cue. “Could you please tell me what happened to the foxen in your henhice?”

“I’d be pleased to,” answered Pluribus. “What happened was that my brave wife, Una, grabbed one of them frying pen and took off after them foxen.”

I wondered for a moment what frying pen were and soon realized that because the plural of man is men, the plural of pan had to be pen.

“Well,” Pluribus went right on talking, “the missus wasn’t able to catch them foxen so she went back to the kitchen and began throwing dish and some freshly made pice at them critters.”

That part of the story stumped me for a time, until I reasoned that a school of fish is made up of fish and more than one die make a roll of dice so that Una Pluribus must have grabbed a stack of dishes and pies.

Pluribus never stopped. “Them dish and pice sure scarified them foxen, and the pests have never come back. In fact, the rest of the village heard about what my wife did, and they were so proud that they sent the town band out to the farm to serenade her with tubae, harmonicae, accordia, fives, and dra.”

“Hold up!” I gasped. “Give me a minute to figure out those musical instruments. The plural of formula is formulae, so the plurals of tuba and harmonica must be tubae and harmanicae. And the plurals of phenomenon and criterion are phenomena and criteria, so the plural of accordion must be accordia.”

“You must be one of them genii,” Pluribus exclaimed. “Maybe,” I blushed. “One cactus, two cacti; one alumnus, an association of alumni. So one genius, a seminar of genii. But let me get back to those instruments. The plurals of life and wife are lives and wives, so the plural of fife must be fives. And the plural of medium is media, so the plural of drum must be dra. Whew! That last one was tough.”

“Good boy, sonny. Well, my wife done such a good job of chasing away them foxen that the town newspaper printed up a story and ran a couple of photographim of her holding them pen, dish, and pice.”

My brain was now spinning in high gear, so it took me but an instant to realize that Farmer Pluribus had regularized one of the most exotic plurals in the English language – seraph, seraphim; so photograph, photographim. I could imagine all those Pluribi bathing in their bathtubim, as in cherub, cherubim; bathtub, bathtubim.

“Well,” crowed Pluribus. “I was mighty pleased that ererybody was so nice to the missus, but that ain’t no surprise since folks in these here parts show a lot of respect for their methren.”

“Brother, brethren; mother, methren.” I rejoined. “That thought makes me want to cry. Have you any boxen of Kleenices here?”

“Sure do, young fella. And I’m tickled pink that you’ve caught on to the way I’ve easified the English language. One index, two indices and one appendix, two appendices. So one Kleenex, two Kleenices. Makes things simpler, don’t it?”

I was so grateful to Farmer Pluribus for having taught mе his unique dialect that I took him out to one of them local cafeteriae. I reported my findings to the American dialect Society by calling from one of the telephone beeth in the place.

Yep, you’ve got it. One tooth, two teeth. One telephone booth, two telephone beeth. Makes things simpler, don’t it?

Дата добавления: 2014-12-24