Kirk Mahoney . com

Telephone companies refer to an entry in a telephone book as a “listing”.

Real-estate agents refer to an item in a list of for-sale properties as a “listing”.

But the noun “listing” describes the process of creating a list.

I wonder why such an entry in a list is not called a “listed” instead.

The word “listed” makes as much sense as the word “listing” to refer to an entry in a list.

Perhaps the use of “listing” in place of “listed” is consistent with my “Devolution toward Simpler” linguistic hypothesis.

After all, it is simpler to say “listing” than it is to say “listed”.

My wife heard this two days ago on NPR.

Problem:
The speaker used an adjective where an adverb was required.

Explanation:
National Public Radio on March 12 aired a report in which my wife heard someone say, “Women are still not paid equal to men.”

As is true for “naked” verbs, the passive-voice construction “are still not paid” may be modified by an adverb but may never be modified by an adjective.

The word “equal” is an adjective, not an adverb.

Many adjectives — including “equal” — can be converted into adverbs by adding the “ly” suffix.

I believe that the omission of the “ly” suffix from what should be the adverbial forms of adjectives is consistent with my “Devolution toward Simpler” linguistic hypothesis.

It is simpler to omit the “ly” suffix, which adds two more letters and an extra syllable, than to include it.

Solution:
“Women are still not paid equally to men.”

I often see or hear this and similar sentences.

Problem:
A preposition is missing.

Explanation:
I heard someone make the statement “She graduates high school this year.” the other day while talking about his daughter.

But the verb “graduate” means to receive a diploma or degree.

So “She graduates high school this year.” literally means “She receives a diploma or degree high school this year.”

This reveals the preposition that is missing from “She graduates high school this year.”

I believe that this omission is consistent with my “Devolution toward Simpler” linguistic hypothesis. It is simpler to omit the required preposition than to include it.

And, as with yesterday’s blog post, this post illustrates a simple method for discovering whether a preposition is missing, excessive, or just right: Simply replace the verb with the verb’s definition.

Solution:
“She graduates from high school this year.”

I heard this recently during a TV news broadcast.

Problem:
A preposition is missing.

Explanation:
The news broadcaster made the statement “He escaped prison.” while describing a prisoner who had managed to illegally free himself from a prison.

But the verb “escape” means to get away, or to gain or regain freedom.

So “He escaped prison.” literally means any of these:

• “He got away prison.”
• “He gained freedom prison.”
• “He regained freedom prison.”

Any of these sentences reveals to us the preposition that is missing from “He escaped prison.”

I believe that this omission is consistent with my “Devolution toward Simpler” linguistic hypothesis. It is simpler to omit the required preposition than to include it.

And this blog post illustrates a simple method for discovering whether a preposition is missing, excessive, or just right. The method entails simply rewriting the sentence or phrase or expression with the definition of the verb in place of the verb.

Solution:
“He escaped from prison.”

The U.S. Congress has been in the news a lot recently, creating bills to spend hundreds of billions of dollars here and hundreds of billions more there.

And I have been thinking about the noun “congressman” as a title.

The U.S. Congress comprises two branches: the Senate, and the House of Representatives.

So technically a “congressman” or “congresswoman” is either a U.S. Senator or a U.S. Representative.

But do not dare called a U.S. Senator by the title “Congressman” or “Congresswoman”; oh, the horror!

No, a U.S. Senator with the surname “Hotair” wants to be called “Senator Hotair”, not “Congressman Hotair” or “Congresswoman Hotair”.

In contrast, a U.S. Representative with the surname “Hotair” typically prefers to be called “Congressman Hotair” or “Congresswoman Hotair”, not “Representative Hotair”.

I suspect that part of this is because the word “congress” often refers to the U.S. legislative branch and not to a state legislative branch, whereas the word “representative” is often used to refer to elected officials in state legislative branches and is much less commonly used to refer to elected officials in the U.S. House of Representatives.

So “congressman” (or “congresswoman”) is more prestigious because it is more often associated with a higher position (the U.S. legislative branch) than is “representative” (applicable to many, but not all, state legislative branches).

But I also believe that “congressman” is more popular than “representative” in modern American English because it is consistent with my “Devolution toward Simpler” linguistic hypothesis. It is simpler to say the three-syllable “congressman” than it is to say the five-syllable “representative”.

In contrast, but consistent with my hypothesis, because the five-syllable “representative” is only slightly more complex than the four-syllable “congresswoman”, we tend to hear and see “Representative” almost as often as “Congresswoman” in reference to female members of the U.S. House of Representatives.

My wife spotted this on an envelope.

Problem:
The contraction is missing an apostrophe.

Explanation:
“WERE MOVING OR HAVE MOVED!” was stamped in red beneath a business’s old address in the return-address section of an envelope.

The business obviously had a lot of envelopes that had been printed with its old address in the return-address section, and beneath that section the business had stamped a new message in red to let envelope recipients know one of the following:

• The business was in the process of moving.
• The business had already moved.

The new address appeared — also in red — beneath “WERE MOVING OR HAVE MOVED!”, so that envelope recipients would have the new address of the business.

The problem with the red-stamp headline is that it is missing an apostrophe.

When one creates a contraction — in this case from the pronoun “WE” plus the verb “ARE” — an apostrophe must be included to indicate the letter or letters that one has removed to create the contraction.

I believe that the omission of the apostrophe is consistent with my “Devolution toward Simpler” linguistic hypothesis. It is simpler to omit an apostrophe than to include one.

Solution:
“WE’RE MOVING OR HAVE MOVED!”

An American wrote this sentence the other day in an email message to my wife.

Having lived several years in England, she told me that it looked odd to her.

She would have written “Photos are always welcomed.” — with a “d” at the end.

In other words, she sees this as a passive-voice sentence (in which the actor is not specified).

The active-voice form of the sentence could be “We always welcome photos.”

Given that speaking or writing in the passive voice requires the use of the past participle of a verb, the passive-voice form of “We always welcome photos.” requires the past participle “welcomed” — with a “d” at the end.

I believe that the American tendency to drop the “d” from the past participle “welcomed” in “Photos are always welcomed.” is consistent with my “Devolution toward Simpler” linguistic hypothesis.

It is simpler to say “welcome” (without the “d”) than to say “welcomed” (with the “d”). And, even if someone says “welcomed” (with the “d”), many American listeners will not hear the “d” and will write “welcome” (without the “d”) instead.

I was waiting in a pharmacy line the other day when I started thinking about the devolution of the phrase “prescription drug”.

Americans used to go to pharmacies to pick up “prescription drugs”.

But it is rare to hear any of them say that phrase today.

Now we call these drugs simply “prescriptions”.

But a “prescription” is what a doctor writes or makes.

So it must sound odd to many non-Americans to hear an American telling a pharmacist that he or she wants “to pick up my prescription”, when what the person actually wants to do is to pick up the drug, not what the doctor wrote.

The truncation, if you will, of the phrase “prescription drug” into the noun “prescription” is only the first step in the phrase’s devolution.

The second step comes in many American hospitals.

I was telling my brother, who has been an operating-room technician, about this devolution, and he said that many American hospital employees do not even call the drug a “prescription”.

No, they refer to such a drug by the noun “script” — the six letters in the middle of the noun “prescription”.

So there you have it: “prescription drug” devolved to “prescription”, which devolved to “script”.

I wonder what is next — a “scri”?

I have heard this phrase a lot.

Problem:
It is not a “suit”!

Explanation:
What the heck is a “bedroom suit”?

For that matter, what is a “living-room suit” or a “dining-room suit”?

Okay, I am kidding.

I know what these phrases mean.

I know what the people who say or write them are doing.

They are mispronouncing or misspelling the noun that means a furniture set, most particularly the set of furniture necessary to furnish one room.

That noun is “suite” — NOT “suit”! Talk about NOT Hooked on Phonics.

For fun, I searched Google for each of the following (with the quotation marks, to avoid variations) and got about the indicated numbers of matches:

• “bedroom suit” — 9,980,000 matches
• “bedroom suite” — 9,520,000 matches

This tells me that Web authors have favored the incorrect noun over the correct noun by a ratio of 1.05-to-1, which is horrible!

I believe that the favoring of “bedroom suit” over “bedroom suite” is consistent with my “Devolution toward Simpler” linguistic hypothesis. It is simpler to write and pronounce the four-letter, one-syllable “suit” than it is to write and pronounce the five-letter, 1.5-syllable “suite”.

Solution:
“bedroom suite”

I hear this a lot, often from supposedly educated people.

Problem:
The preposition should not appear in this expression.

Explanation:
The full sentence goes something along the lines of “Let’s see where we’re at in this project.”

Whoever says or writes “where we’re at” is making the common English blunder of applying “where at” — a mistaken way to use “where” — to a location (physical or virtual).

I believe that this expression when spoken is consistent with my “Devolution toward Simpler” linguistic hypothesis. It is simpler to say “where we’re at” than to say “where we are”.

Try saying each expression. You will hear and feel what I mean. The words “we’re” and “at” blur together in speech to become a one-and-a-half-syllable “whurrat”. In contrast, the words “we” and “are” must be spoken distinctly.

Given a choice, most speakers will choose 1.5 syllables over two syllables almost any day, especially in informal speech.

For fun, I searched Google for each of the following (with the quotation marks, to avoid variations) and got about the indicated numbers of matches:

• “where we are” — 17,400,000 matches
• “where we’re at” — 479,000 matches

This tells me that Web authors have used the correct “where we are” versus the incorrect “where we’re at” by a ratio of 36.3-to-1, which is good but not wonderful, especially considering nearly half of a million instances of the incorrect expression.

Solution:
“where we are”