I wrote their entry, they won!
They won last year.
I wrote that entry too.
Reading the other night, I suddenly became aware of the message poking out of the top of my book:
A bookmark, that had come with the book, advertising an offer from Naked Wines. I hadn’t really registered it when it arrived; just stuck it in the book. A good bookmark always comes in handy. It was only later that I registered the way the offer was always there, within my peripheral vision, thanks to the cunning way the thing had been designed.
A very smart promotion, targeted toward a self-delimiting (book-buying) presumably smart & smart-appreciative (not to mention likely wine-buying) audience.
Salut, whoever came up with that one!
A recent project introduced me to this logo:
Interesting. I can’t decide whether I like it or not. (I’m sure this’ll have ’em on tenterhooks.)
You can see where it came from. They’re pretty much the inventors of ‘new law’, so it behoves them to be not just different but, well, different, if you see what I mean. And this does that, for sure.
Indeed…there’s a lot to like about it. And yet…I can’t altogether escape the feeling that it’s just a bit, I dunno, cute? Just smacks of being a little bit pleased with itself. Arguably forgivable, given their sector dominance. But I wouldn’t be at all surprised if they dropped it in the not-too-distant.
The Big Question of course being, what next?
Stumbled across a wonderful piece o’ prose from one ‘Silver Fox’ on a thread about ‘What we used to do back then…’:
Get up at 5am, drink the cream off the top of the milk bottle and leave the rest on the doorstep, meet friends, ride like the wind on my bluebell bent over taking a shortcut across the angry farmers field, head to the to the river, find warm sticky cola bottles in disintegrating paper bag in back pocket, divvy up sweets, try to cross river with jeans rolled up to knees, have a nap, wake up to see cow standing above head, grab bikes and peddle like mad home, grab a sarni, see peg bag in the kitchen, empty pegs at the back door and climb apple tree, fill peg bag with apples with sarni in gob, shimmy down tree, throw crusts over the fence, sneak out, head to local shop, get bag of cola bottles and a mini milk from kind lady who makes apple pies to sell in the shop, peddle back to the river slowly counting up cola bottles and laughing at lolly stick joke, see friends and stuff sweets in jeans for later, play bulldog until legs fall off, watch sun start to set, push cows over, when scary dark walk bikes home holding hands with best friend so we don’t get kidnapped by strangers.
I’ve read nothing more evocative from a professional.
Deep in a proof-reading exercise I began to run into “Harris’ objections” and “Travis’ contention” and the like, and set about adding esses: Harris’s objections, and so on.
Picked up on this, I said that as I understood it, failing to add an s was generally considered archaic, and rather frowned on these days. Googling for some kind of definitive authority to endorse what was in truth little more than a hunch, I came across an excellent article on the issue. Not only do serious authorities differ on the matter, The Chicago Manual of Style has actually changed its position: once in the Jesus’ camp, it now prefers Jesus’s. As I was accustomed to doing.
But I have now revised my own preference, in line with a proposal made by the author of the writing tips piece, one Maeve Maddox:
Having said which, it’s important not to forget that this remains just that – a preference. As so often with the wonder that is English, there *is* no definitive correct answer. As so often, yer pays yer money, and…
I’m starting to see Oxford commas in my sleep. In related territory, I recently came across:
Does that mean either sherry or balsamic vinegar or sherry vinegar or balsamic vinegar? Impossible to tell. A friend suggested a ‘sort of Oxford comma’:
1tsp of sherry, or balsamic vinegar
Well, it’s unambiguous. Wrong, admittedly, but you can’t have everything…
In other news:
‘He was accompanied by a Hungarian, a nice chap, and a painter’
How many companions did ‘he’ have? One, two, or three?
In a Guardian profile of Labour’s heir apparent, Keir Starmer, the writer’s ‘heart sinks’ when she asks for a sample of Labour’s big vision, only to receive: ‘An economy that works for everybody.’ But then, apparently, he ‘conjures up a glimpse of his vision of a Labour party that people might actually want to vote for.’ To whit:
‘an absolute skills agenda’? What in God’s name is that supposed to mean? And is this really ‘a glimpse of a vision people might want to vote for’?
Why can’t Decca Aitkenhead – generally one of The Guardian’s most perceptive and thoughtful journos – see that this is precisely the kind of constipated language that has helped drive a wedge between Labour and voters? That’s not a headline for an ambitious, bold project. That’s not even a headline. A political headline has to be something people might say to one another; something that touches a nerve, that has people thinking: “That’s right! That’s what I’ve always said!” Who has ever said, would ever say, “You know, what we need is an absolute skills agenda”?
BRITAIN NEEDS SKILLS!
That’s a headline. It may not be a great headline, but I only spent 10 or 11 seconds on it. I’m sure I could come up with better. But it is at least a headline.
Rule #1 of political messaging: if you can’t imagine a couple of punters swapping it over a pint, it’s valueless – at best. Why doesn’t she understand this? Why doesn’t he? Maybe because he’s an ex-QC and she’s a lifelong Guardianista. And maybe that’s Labour’s problem in a nutshell.
Not that I’m a politico. But I am a communicator. And unless Labour high-fliers start grasping some of the basics, we might just as well read the last rites now and have done with it.
Following recent undeniably somewhat anal discussion of the OC, a hot-off-the-press story illustrating how it’s not just a matter of aesthetics. No indeed – real cash money can be at stake.
As the piece summarizes:
Exemption F….lists which work activities do not count for overtime pay:
The canning, processing, preserving, freezing, drying, marketing, storing, packing for shipment or distribution of:
Meat and fish product; and
If there was an Oxford comma after “packing for shipment” then neither “packing” not “distribution” would be covered by overtime pay. However, without it, “packing for shipment or distribution” count as one activity: packing. Distribution is not covered in the list of overtime exemptions. So they should get paid for it.
So there you have it: take care with your Ps & Qs…and your Oxford commas.
Editing some copy written in American recently, I grumbled to myself about all the Oxford commas – the ones like those in the subject line, that appear entirely redundantly in sentences involving lists. As though ‘Apples, pears and bananas’ is somehow wrong. It’s all a hangover from a pompous and smug notion of the language that allows the supposedly educated to sneer at their supposed educational inferiors, and I loath it.
Then what should turn up in my inbox but this, from a friend:
Illustrating, amusingly, that while often redundant, and certainly not to be used invariably, the OC has its place.