Murdering the language: a Kiwi writes.......

In response to my previous, my erudite chum in New Zealand comments:

 

Then there is “space”, “going forward”, “based out of” as in “our company has a range of products addressing the interpersonal communication space”, “companies going forward will need to pay attention to the new tax rules” (you mean that companies that are going backwards can ignore them?), and (a real life quotation from a woman in Otago who makes salamis to which Beefy Botham took a fancy last week) “we’re based out of a 100-year-old woolshed…”.  To which I can only say I’m not surprised, who would want to be based IN a 100-year-old woolshed? Imagine all those ancient dags (*).

Transportation instead of transport is another American abomination.  Why do they have to add superfluous - nay otiose - syllables, presumably to make the word (or themselves) sound more important?

“Customer service” which usually isn’t and means some peon in Bangalore for whom English is their fourth or fifth language.

Diagnosed with – “in 2009 he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s”.  I never realised Parkinson’s was a diagnostic tool, I always thought it was a very unpleasant disease.

 

I really do hate “alcohol-fuelled” (or “drug-fuelled” and others of the same ilk), used incessantly by the press as a substitute for thought when describing yobbos’ antics on Friday night. Alcohol-fuelling should be confined to racing cars.

Deteriate.

Febry.

Govament.

There are a number of….. (“a number” is singular, dammit).

 

In re clichés - do you recall the tale of Sam Goldwyn (I think) who on being told his films were full of tired old clichés, said “OK, get me some new clichés”?  Of course, cliché was originally the French name for a stereotype block used in printing which migrated to other European languages.  I remember the word for stencil and, if memory serves correctly, overhead slide, (do you remember them?) in Croatian was kliše.

And finally, on the subject of ambiguity, “you’ll never recognise Johnny, he’s grown another foot”.

(*) As explained to me many years ago when I was a fairly new Kiwi, dags are “the lumps of shit-stained wool on a sheep’s arse”, giving rise to that wonderful colloquialism “c’mon, rattle yer dags”, i.e. “get a move on, please”.  Dagging is one of the less pleasant aspects of a shearer’s life.