the ax files

JULY 21, 2005

Misplaced Modifiers!? Get ready to laugh!

I find that I can’t let it ride. I am compelled by my writerly conscience to confess that in Axfiles #9, “So Sexy it Hurts,” I was guilty of perpetrating upon the unsuspecting public the grammatical sin of not one, but two misplaced modifiers. I must own up, because they exhibit sloppy, careless, lazy writing. I let them slide even as I was typing them, assuming the reader to be as lazy as I. My apologies.

Misplaced modifiers are the laughing stock of English grammar, and whenever I run across a new grammar book (it happens to me, if not to you) I go right to the index looking for them. Let me think of a simple one: After driving for hours, the mountain came into view. Obviously, the mountain had not been driving for hours, and had not been invisible while doing so. Let’s see what my desk reference grammar book (I have one, if you don’t), Cliffs Writing: Grammar, Usage and Style, has to offer. Not much. I’ve seen some laugh riots, but Cliffs’ are pretty tame:

Perhaps anticipating what modern science would discover, Anna Anderson, who claimed to be Anastasia, requested she be cremated before her death.
(Most people wait until after their deaths to be cremated, but not Anna!)

Advancing across the desolate plains, the hot sun burned the pioneers.
(Wasn’t it nice of the sun to not wait for the pioneers to arrive, but to cross the plains on its own?)

The buildings on the hillside constructed of highly flammable materials were destroyed first.
(They’d better construct the hill of asbestos next time.)

We were startled to see such a young boy exhibiting these poisonous snakes with bare hands.
(The snakes usually wore gloves.)

She was wearing a colorful scarf around her shoulders, which she had bought in Mexico. (I got a much better deal on shoulders in Costa Rica.)

The President made some vigorous remarks about Communists rising from his desk during the news conference.
(With the fall of the USSR, far fewer Communists have been rising from his desk.)

He wore a straw hat on the back of his head which was obviously much too small.
(Small backs of heads ran in his family.)

While watching television, the doorbell rang.
(We let the doorbell watch TV with us as long as it still performs its duties.)

Reading in the library, the siren of a passing ambulance distracted me.
(I’m glad the siren can read, but how did that ambulance get in the library?)

While working in California, his family was living in New York.
(Talk about a hellish commute!)

Having run off the road while passing a car, my father told me I couldn’t drive.
(He had to have been running pretty fast to pass that car!)

While playing in the high chair, I was afraid the baby would fall out.
(Because there wasn’t enough room in there for both of us.)

I sat down next to a man who had a wooden leg named George Carpenter.
(He had named it that, you know, because of the “wood” connection.)

One can see more than a hundred lakes, flying at an altitude of several thousand feet. (Looks like rain!)

A sea robin, an unusual deep-sea creature, was caught by father with stubby legs and enormous wings.
(The wings! That’s how he passed that car!)

Rounding a sharp curve, a detour sign confronted us.
(It said, You’ve got pot in that car, don’t you! And watch out for that sharp curve!)

I just googled “misplaced modifiers” and was presented with 32,500 references. The first one, www.ace.acadiau.ca refers to the misplaced modifier as “the grammar outlaw.” The “grammar crime” of the misplaced modifier is that “phrases are not located properly in relation to the words they modify” leading to “illogical sentences that are difficult to follow.”

The next, www.webster.commnet.edu, has a different take on it: “Modifiers are like teenagers: they fall in love with whatever they are next to.” I have a feeling that writer has a drawer full of rejected manuscripts. The site also tackles my own grammar fetish, the placement of “only.”

The issue of the proper placement of "only" has long been argued among grammarians. Many careful writers will insist that "only" be placed immediately before the word or phrase it modifies. Thus "I only gave him three dollars" would be rewritten as "I gave him only three dollars." Some grammarians, however, have argued that such precision is not really necessary, that there is no danger of misreading "I only gave him three dollars" and that "only" can safely and naturally be placed between the subject and the verb. The argument has been going on for two hundred years.

And the theme from “Jeopardy” has been playing the entire time! Well, I’m sorry, I hold that “only” can ~~only~~ be placed only dangerously and unnaturally between subject and verb! What, I ask you, is “only giving” something to someone? This version ~~only~~ annoys me only because it is sloppy, careless, lazy English, not because someone is likely to misunderstand you. It’s true that some incorrect usages have entered the language because there is no doubt as to what is being communicated; e.g., you’re more likely to call a friend and say “It’s me,” rather than “It is I” because they’re both understood to mean the same thing—but as common a practice is the use of incorrect grammar in the attempt to sound grammatical. One might say, “He gave Christmas presents to both John and I,” but never say, “He gave them to I.” One might say, “The winner of the race was him,” but never “Him was the winner of the race.” Would you say, “The reader was as lazy as me”?—no, it’s “I,” because there’s a comparison involved, who’s laziest? In this case “I” is the subject of an elliptical (left out; to be understood as) clause. The complete comparison would read “He’s not as lazy” as I (am lazy.)” You wouldn’t say “He’s not as lazy as me (am lazy.)” We all gloss over these things because we know what we’re talking about; the meaning is communicated whether it’s “wrong” or “right,” but misplaced modifiers can, as you see, cast doubt on what it is you are trying to express. At best the reader trips over the sentence and at worst you get laughed at, really hard.

A VERITABLE TREASURE CHEST

Wow, the web is a whole new universe of ludicrous modifiers! One site, http://writing2.richmond.edu/writing/wweb/mismod.html even has the heading “Misplaced Modifiers: Get Ready to Laugh.” They give us:
Idling among other enormous, gas-guzzling SUVs, the congressman called for better mileage.
(There was hardly any gas left for the other enormous guzzling congressmen.)
The clerk handed the groceries to the customer in a paper bag.
(The customer in the plastic bag was next in line.)

Other great finds:

Walking to college on a subzero morning, my left ear became frozen.
(I broke my ankle and had to walk on my ears.)

Raging and blowing from the north, we had a terrible blizzard on Saturday.
(Then we calmed down and went skiing.)

On boy, this one is rife with pitfalls:

By accident, he poked the little girl with his finger in the eye.

It could mean:

The little girl had his finger, which was in (some) eye—we don’t know whose—and he poked her.

(Either the finger or the eye could or could not be attached to him or her.)

He poked the little girl (the one who had his finger, not some other girl) in her (or some other) eye—we don’t know whose.

He poked (with one of his other fingers) the little girl who had his finger (attached or not) in her or some eye (attached or not).

He used his finger (which he got from the little girl who had it) to poke her in her eye.

He used his remaining fingers to take his detached finger from the little girl and poke her with it. At this point we don’t know where the eye is.
Or it could mean: He accidentally poked his finger in the girl’s eye.

Another site provides links with drawings illustrating the erroneous meaning. I love their selection:

Baking in the oven, John saw the pizza (and got out of there to eat it).

Eating up the cat food I noticed Fido (and asked him if he wanted some too).

Standing nervously on the stage, a barrage of tomatoes suddenly pelted the candidate.
(The candidate hadn’t noticed the nervous tomatoes standing behind him, when suddenly they threw themselves at him!)

Cracking nuts under the porch, I saw the squirrel (and invited him to join me).

Covered with mustard and relish, I thoroughly enjoyed the sausage (but how uncomfortable I was!).

Here’s a list that www.wisc.edu (University of Wisconsin-Madison) calls “the best misplaced and dangling modifiers of all time.” Or are they the worst?

Oozing slowly across the floor, Marvin watched the salad dressing.
(Marvin, get off the floor and quit ogling that salad dressing.)

Waiting for the Moonpie, the candy machine began to hum loudly.
(When the Moonpie finally arrived, it burst into outright song.)

Coming out of the market, the bananas fell on the pavement.
(They had slipped on their own peels.)

She handed out brownies to the children stored in tupperware.
(They’re the children of the customer in the paper bag and the one in the plastic bag—they met in line.)

I smelled the oysters coming down the stairs for dinner.
(Who invited the Oysters to dinner? They stink!)

I brushed my teeth after eating with Crest Toothpaste.
(I’m tired of the usual condiments.)

Grocery shopping at Big Star, the lettuce was fresh.
(causing the cucumber to file a sexual harassment complaint with the manager)

Driving like a maniac, the deer was hit and killed.
(It was the first time a deer was ever caught in its own headlights.)

With his tail held high, my father led his prize poodle around the arena.
(Unfortunately, it detracted attention from the poodle’s tail.)

I saw the dead dog driving down the interstate.
(He must have passed away at the wheel with his foot still on the accelerator.)

Holding a bag of groceries, the roach flew out of the cabinet.
(It was trying to make off with the goods before I got home.)

Emitting thick black smoke from the midsection, I realized something was wrong.
(because usually I emit thick black smoke from my butt)

The girl was consoled by the nurse who had just taken an overdose of sleeping pills.
(It was to be the last time she ever consoled anyone)

I saw an accident walking down the street.
(She was wearing a plaid coat with striped pants.)

Drinking beer at a bar, the car would not start.
(I had its keys. Friends don’t let cars drive drunk.)

Playing pool in the living room, the radio was turned on by Jim.
(And the radio said, “Not now, Jim! I’m trying to sink this shot!)

Frustrated by diagonal movement, the set was turned off.
(It had made the set nauseous and it will never move diagonally again!)

Mrs. Daniel sews evening gowns just for special customers with sequins stitched on them.
(Usually she’ll echo the customer’s own sequins pattern in the gown.)

Although exhausted and weary, the coach kept yelling, “Another lap!”
(He wasn’t too exhausted to keep from working us to death though.)

She carefully studied the Picasso hanging in the art gallery with her friend.
(and said to her, “Mind if I hang with you?”)

Having an automatic stick shift, Nancy bought the car.
(The car on the other hand had a manual transmission.)

Freshly painted, Jim left the room to dry.
(He thought he’d dry faster outside.)

He held the umbrella over Janet’s head that he got from Delta Airlines.
(Janet’s head had been lost in baggage for weeks now.)

He wore a straw hat on his head, which was obviously too small.
(His head may be small but the guy sure gets around!)

After drinking too much, the toilet kept moving.
(I tried to steady it, but it had the shakes.)

I hope those weren’t drawn from actual student work! Those are some humdingers all right, but my all time favorite is:

Ever changing color, ever forming new shapes, her eyes followed the clouds.
(I ~~only~~ have only one question: Were there any fingers in those ever-changing eyes?)

Again, readers, please forgive me for my own transgressions. I leave them for you, however, to discover. And pardon me too if I needed an easy laugh and a column that would write itself.

THE SENTINEL NEEDS A SENTINEL

Speaking of convoluted phrasing, am I the only one who can’t always figure out what Pat Murphy is talking about? I sent him an email suggesting he, in so many words, go back to English 101, because his writing style sometimes obfuscates rather than illuminates the events he is covering. Can anyone translate these?

“Insiders report KRON General Manager Mark Antonitis' decision sprung brow beaten by KRON movie maven Jan Wahl's white-gloved sniffing Ammiano would 'politicize' the celebration.”

“It wasn't okay, Harvey Milk disquieted the chummy, for broccoli and chablis straights to stake big picture prescience.”

“Kindred of spirit, Harvey Milk and Ammiano were friends, before old San Francisco Dan White dispatched Milk dead, Milk rejection of straight primacy twisted as threatening.”

I don’t know what he has against punctuation or good old articles like a, an, and the, but it is only because I am interested in what he has to say that I wish he’d be clearer in saying it. His sentences are so run-on I’m afraid they’ll crash into a brick wall. Or else maybe I’m just a grammar book-totin’ bitch with a double-barreled red pencil.

THNX PHRNCK!

It’s three strikes against the Bay Area and three home runs for Portland, my old adopted town. Leaving the SF fog for the Oregon mist are some good ones—Frank Webster and Deby Inman, and their young daughter Zoe. We have them through August.

I owe a long overdue giant public thank you to Frank Webster, a total stranger who took it upon himself to design my axfiles webpage simply because it’s on the Bulldog. I finally had these guys over to dinner the other week and they are a rare pair, exactly the sort we want to keep in stock around here, but off they go in search of cheaper rent. Frank and Deby gave the Bulldog site to h as a present a few years ago, and it was the gift that keeps on giving. They designed the site, and update it and maintain it, including uploading the columns and adding features as needed. Newly installed is Jim Meko’s Blog on the Dog, more politics for the wonks out there, and a handsome page it is. Though h continues to introduce me as the Bulldog’s “sex columnist,” I will stay true to my mission of writing whatever I want, providing weight on the arts & humanities side of the see-saw.

I don’t know how many hours Frank and Deby have poured into keeping the Bulldog alive, but it’s due to them that we are here at all, so hats off to you, guys, and blessings upon you in the next chapter in your book of life. Portland feels more like a big town than a small city, and it will treat you right. Have a pint of McMenamin’s Ruby Ale at the Baghdad Theatre (which during Desert Storm bore the graffiti, “Don’t bag me, dad”) and check out Powell’s Books (a city block long and arguably the best used/new bookstore anywhere), the Zoo Train in Washington Park, and my buddy’s new coffee shop Partisan Pete’s. Enjoy your weekend trips to Mt. Hood, Multnomah Falls, Sauvie Island, the river (any of several). Make a day of Maryhill Museum and Sam Hill’s full-size concrete Stonehenge (a WWI memorial) on the Washington side of the Columbia River Gorge. It’s hardly the place you’d expect to find Rodins and Queen Marie of Romania’s royal regalia, but there they are.

And if you’re up for it, and up for it you must be, climb Mt. St. Helens. The terrain ranges from grassy, rocky, sandy, to volcanic silt; it’s a hard trek up, but the pay-off at the top—wow!

Also, enjoy summer. They have them up there, you know. And winter as well. Mostly wet, but watch out for the occasional wind and ice storms, they can be brutal. Hike Mt.Tabor Park in the snow. And enjoy the spacious house you will live in for the price of a studio here. At the moment, I’m actually wondering why I left. My 2-BR TIC went for more than 10 times what I paid for my 4-BR house up there.

OK, girl, snap out of it. If you like the look of the Bulldog, these guns are for hire. You can contact Frank and Deby at www.debyinmandesign.com. There will be a proper Bulldog send-off, you guys, with shot-drinking contest and all, before you see the last of us tail-wagging doggies.

The author sends greetings from Mt. Hood

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A Short Attention Span Toast to Frank & Deby

May life throw you a pleasant curve,
May oncoming buses always swerve,
May the menu feature your favorite hors d’oeuvres,
For your awesome tasks may you have the nerve,
May life be sweet as a peach preserve,
May you long sustain your vim and verve,
May you inherit from your uncle Merv,
May you get, please God, what you deserve.
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Here, here!

Get Ready to Laugh!
July 20, 2005

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