English is weird.
Any attempt to explain, or even justify, the rules usually ends with participants speechless at best and more likely muttering the four-lettered words.
As proof of this, the internet offers that “Read and lead rhyme and read and lead rhyme, but read and lead don’t rhyme and neither do read and lead.”
As further proof, the word “literally” is used so incorrectly, so often, that several years ago some dictionaries caved and listed figuratively, the exact opposite of literally, as an acceptable use for the word.
See what I mean?
Plus, there are rules that some people have that other people don’t… or do not… depending on your personal view of the use of contractions. (My son had a teacher who would mark points off of writing assignments if students used contractions.) I personally dislike the Oxford comma, the comma that comes before “and” at the end of a list. Oddly, I think it makes the sentence clearer but its abhorrence was beaten into me by journalism professors so I don’t use it. There is no excuse for the use of two spaces at the end of a sentence, a practice employed by far too many.
Even so, I like and value words. As a journalist, I try to stay up to date on what is happening in the world of words.
Earlier this week Oxford English Dictionary (OED) announced its lexicographers had chosen “Vax” as the word of the year. (“Vax” and “vaxx” are both accepted spellings but the form with one x is more common.)
OED officials said the use of words related to vaccines— words like double-vaxxed, unvaxxed and anti-vaxxer— spiked in 2021.
Oxfords officials said “Vax” was an obvious choice because “vax was a particularly striking term.”
While the word goes back to at least the 1980s, Oxford officials said it was “a relatively rare word” until this year.
“When you add to that its versatility in forming other words – vaxxie, vax-a-thon, vaxinista – it became clear that vax was the standout in the crowd,” OED senior editor Fiona McPherson said.
Merriam-Webster recently listed 455 new inclusions in the dictionary. Words include social media abbreviations, pandemic related ideas, political words as well as pop culture creations. My favorite new word is “dad bod,” defined as a physique regarded as typical of an average father; especially: one that is slightly overweight and not extremely muscular.” While the description of my physique may be accurate, it should be noted that I am most certainly not the average father.
Last year, Oxford refused to name a word of the year. While other dictionaries named a word — one chose “pandemic” another chose “lockdown” — Oxford said that as it started the selection process, “it quickly became apparent that 2020 is not a year that could neatly be accommodated in one single ‘word of the year.’”
Some folks may remember that in 2015 Oxford selected the ‘Face with Tears of Joy’ emoji, because officials said it “best reflected the ethos, mood and preoccupations of 2015.”
But that’s how words are. They have the power to unite us or to divide us, to bless or to curse; to bring life or to bring death, peace or war, joy, or sorrow, or strength, or comfort or even silence; to bring truth or to deceive; to show love or hate, joy or anger.
But the power is not really theirs, but ours to wield. It all depends on what we choose to do with them or what we don’t do with them or what we do not do with them.