Easter Fish

I've got some fish marinating in my fridge as a type this.  Many people commemorate Easter with dyed eggs and chocolate, but I find fish to be much more suitable for the occasion.  Afterall, the Resurrection was simple, wasn't it?  It happened quietly and without fanfare.  The contrast between Palm Sunday and Easter Sunday is stark.

I find myself moved most not by a haloed, glorious Christ, kicking death in the nads and emerging from the tomb like some invincible champion, although that's pretty cool, too.  But I feel the love of Jesus most intensely on the shore of Galilee, there with just his disciples, eating fish and bread:

 Jesus said to them, “Come and have breakfast.” None of the disciples dared ask him, “Who are you?” They knew it was the Lord.  Jesus came, took the bread and gave it to them, and did the same with the fish.  This was now the third time Jesus appeared to his disciples after he was raised from the dead.  (John 21:12-14) 

 In this moment, Jesus reveals his deepest concerns to his closest friends: that they would know and reciprocate his love for them, that they would take care of one another, and that they would carry his love and his teachings into all the world (vv. 15-23).  And the world forever changed, over a plate of fish and bread.

Excuse me.  I've got some cooking to do . . .

How to Love Grammar and Not Be a Jerk

Grammar is personal.  I studied English and linguistics in college, so I tend to be much more observant than most when it comes to language.  I've learned that 99% of my observations need not be vocalized, for to do so is to risk poking around a very sensitive area in the human psyche.  And I'm not even talking about correcting, as I almost never do.  Simply noting a particular linguistic idiosyncrasy or asking a question out of curiosity can quickly make someone more insecure than Snow White at a Jersey Shore pool party.  For the most part, we are blissfully unaware of the numerous ways in which our everyday speech does not meet the rigors of "correct" grammar, and we prefer to keep it that way.

As much as I would enjoy pointing out certain things or satisfying my curiosity, simply observing is enough for me.  I love grammar, and all things language-related.  From usage to etymology, from semantics to syntax, I'm just fascinated by it all.  I especially LOVE LOVE LOVE accents.  All of them. I've never quite understood why people claim to hate certain accents.  The diversity of them is every bit as beautiful as the diversity of our skin colors.  (Many people seem to think that language should be homogenized and that we should all speak a standard, accent-less form.  That is an idea particularly abominable to linguists.)

My message here is simple: it is possible to love language and not be a judgmental turd.  It's possible to believe that our education system should teach the standard, and yet not insist that everyone conform to an American Midwest, phone operator dialect.  It's possible to see or hear mistakes and let it slide.  It's possible to not have a stroke every time someone uses the word "irregardless" or mispronounces "ask".  It's possible to not equate poor spelling, improper punctuation, or particular accents and dialects with lower intelligence.  Believe it or not, it's actually possible to not like some of the rules and intentionally break them!  Writers do it all the time.

And it's IMpossible to speak 100% "correctly" 100% of the time.  Most people who claim to don't even come close, and would be astonished at how many mistakes a grammar expert could point out in a ten minute conversation.  This blog post actually has several errors that I would be willing to bet no one noticed.

Again, the message is simple:  Love grammar.  Don't be a jerk.