Uncle John's Bathroom Reader Golden Plunger Awards (31 page)

X-Men: The Last Stand.
Go to “Deleted Scenes” (from the “Join the Brotherhood” screen, choose “Features” to get there). Go to the fourth page in (hit “More” on three separate screens), and then highlight “Hank Warns Trash of Magneto’s Plan.” Press the left arrow on your remote, and you’ll highlight an X. Press enter to see an alternate ending.

Memento
(Limited Edition 2-Disc Set).
From the main menu, select the clock. You’ll get a quiz. Choose answer “C” for the first five questions. The sixth question involves putting pictures in a certain order; don’t worry about the correct order. Instead, put them in this order: 3, 4, 1, 2. The movie (which normally runs backward in time) will now play in chronological order.

Words That Changed Their Meanings

By most estimates, the English language includes about one million words, yet native speakers regularly use only about 5,000. And they don’t always get the ones they do use correct. Like all languages, English is constantly changing—new words are added, old words are phased out, and new word combinations are formed all the time.

But the following examples of language changes cause trouble for people who like to use their words correctly because these words and phrases have pretty much lost their original meanings.

If an event or happening raises a question for someone, it’s almost certain he or she will say, “This begs the question . . .” But it doesn’t. Begging the question is a verbal trick speakers use to avoid a question, not bring one up. The original definition of begging the question meant to assume that what is being questioned had already been proven to be true, so the answer sidestepped the thing in question. Say you were asked a question that just required a simple yes or no answer. But instead of saying yes, you answer with a statement that assumes the thing in question is already true. That’s begging the question.

For example, if the question is, “Senator, will this new crime
bill be effective?” and he or she answers with a statement that doesn’t answer it—“I’ve been fighting crime my entire career, and this crime bill is the latest example of that”—then the speaker has begged the question.

It’s a common practice in formal debate, and it’s especially prevalent in politics. In the example above, the speaker is acting as though the crime bill is definitely effective, even though he or she never answered the basic question with a yes or no. Assuming the question is true is not evidence that it is.

From that, beg the question evolved in the language to mean that the statement invites another obvious question. Anytime you run verbal circles around the question without answering it can be called begging the question in this sense (although strict grammarians frown upon it; they like to keep the original meaning).

It’s hard to believe that such a simple word hides such a horrific history. The original definition of “decimate” was “to kill one in ten.” The brutal practice was used by the Roman army beginning around the 5th century B.C. and was implemented as a way to inspire fear and loyalty. Lots were drawn, and one out of every 10 soldiers would be killed—by their own comrades. If one member of a squad acted up, anybody could pay the ultimate price. Captured armies sometimes fell victim to this practice as well.

Today, “decimate” has lost that meaning, but some grammarians still like to preserve it . . . at least in the sense of “to reduce by 10 percent.” The “dec” prefix means “ten”—it’s the same Latin root that gives us decade, for example. So to use “decimate” to mean just “destroy” contradicts the meaning of that prefix. (Note: Language snobs really get up in arms when someone says “totally decimate.” Totally reduce by ten? We don’t get it, either.)

This is an easy mistake to make. The correct phrase, of course, is “couldn’t care less”—as in, “I don’t care at all, so it wouldn’t be possible for me to care any less about this.” But over the years,
that’s morphed into a new phrase (with the same meaning), and even though the
Harper Dictionary of Contemporary Usage
criticized the change in 1975, saying it was “an ignorant debasement of language,” “could care less” seems to be around to stay.

Language historians say “couldn’t care less” was originally a British phrase that became popular in the United States in the 1950s. “Could care less” appeared about a decade later. No one knows exactly why the incorrect form came into being, since it doesn’t make sense. But the phrase has stuck, and a lot of grammarians care very much that it’s not being used correctly. (Regular people, of course, couldn’t care less.)

No, that’s not a misspelling. Sure it sounds weird to the ear, but people who know the term’s history and meaning prefer the original. “Card sharp” first appeared in the 1880s and meant a card player who tricked or scammed others. “Card shark” appeared much later, in the 1940s.

Many people assume that the mix-up simply comes from speakers who either thought “shark” sounded better or misheard the word originally. But that may not be the case. Linguists have traced the history of both “sharp” and “shark” to their original usages, and though it doesn’t appear that either word derived from the other, there are a lot of similarities in meaning. “Shark” comes from a 17th-century German word
schurke
, which meant “someone who cheats.” “Sharping” came about around the same time and meant “swindling or cheating.” The words “loan shark” and “sharp practice” come from these words as well.

So technically, “card shark” could be correct. But because “card sharp” appeared first, many linguists want to preserve it. Whether they’ll succeed is anyone’s guess, but it’s a sharp point of contention for many.

If you think you’re the spitting image of your parents, you’re forgiven. People have been messing this one up for decades. “Spit and image” was the original term, used from about 1825 on.
The Oxford English Dictionary
defined it as “the very spit of, the exact
image, likeness, or counterpart of.” “Spitting image” came about some 80 years later and was followed by a few other variations, including “spitten image” and “splitting image” (neither of which really caught on). In this case, “spitting image” has overtaken the use of “spit and image” for most English speakers. But when you’re spitting out this phrase, take a moment to remember its original use and think about the image you’re trying to project.

Few words cause as much confusion or are used incorrectly as often as “ironic.” Not that it’s hard to understand why—the definition is not simple: “a pretense of ignorance and of willingness to learn from another assumed in order to make the other’s false conceptions conspicuous by adroit questioning . . . the use of words to express something other than and especially the opposite of the literal meaning.” What?

In 1996, Alanis Morissette wrote an entire song titled “Ironic,” which consistently used the word incorrectly. And even the people who are supposed to know what it means get it wrong.
The American Heritage Dictionary
gave the word “irony” to its distinguished panel of experts (the ones who help ensure the accuracy of all the words the dictionary defines) and asked them if either of the following sentences used the word correctly:

How “ironic” came to be defined as “coincidence” is anybody’s guess, but for our purposes, we like to refer to the following quote from the 1994 film
Reality Bites
. When Ethan Hawke’s character is asked to define “ironic,” he says, “It’s when the actual meaning is the complete opposite from the literal meaning.” Thank goodness for Hollywood.

The Chrysler Building

New York City, with its impressive skyline, was a natural home for some of the tallest buildings ever made. Until the late 19th century, erecting a skyscraper was a feat, and buildings higher than six stories were rare—even getting supplies to the higher floors was extremely difficult because of all the stairs. But the invention of the passenger elevator in the mid-1800s and improvements in steel production and other technologies ensured that, by the 20th century, developers around the country (and the globe) had the tools to make buildings that could reach for the sky.

In 1930, a determined group of businessmen and architects constructed a building that redefined New York City’s skyline. Twenty-one thousand tons of steel, limestone, and brick along with other exotic materials went into the Chrysler Building, and when it was completed, its beautiful blend of Americana and art deco established it as the city’s—and the world’s—most elegant skyscraper. Today, other buildings are taller, but none is as intricately embellished and ornamented. In 2005, New York’s Skyscraper Museum polled 100 architects, builders, engineers, and others, asking them to choose their 10 favorite city skyscrapers. The Chrysler Building captured first place, with 90 percent of respondents putting it in their top 10.

Walter Chrysler worked in the railroad business at the turn of the
20th century, but made a name for himself in the automobile industry after he went to work for Buick in 1912. He had an excellent sense for business and raised Buick’s output from 45 cars a day when he started to 600 by 1920.

In 1921, Chrysler purchased the Maxwell Motor Company, which was millions of dollars in debt. He renamed the company after himself and put his business sense to good use again—within seven years, the company was more than $85 million ahead. In 1928, Chrysler introduced two of its most famous makes: the DeSoto and the Plymouth. A year later,
Time
magazine recognized Walter Chrysler’s success in the automotive industry by naming him Man of the Year (the first automotive leader to receive that honor). But the magazine was also recognizing another of Chrysler’s accomplishments: the September 19, 1929, groundbreaking of the building that still bears his name.

In the 1920s, New York City was in a race to erect the world’s tallest building. Several design and construction teams had plans in the works, and Chrysler wanted his building to be the best . . . and the tallest. He found the perfect project in the form of a venture belonging to former New York State Senator William J. Reynolds. Reynolds had hired architect William Van Alen, who was riding a wave of success for designing several decorative buildings around the city, to design a skyscraper in Midtown. Chrysler bought out Reynolds but kept the architect.

Van Alen’s design called for 77 stories of bold art deco (a style that, as its name implies, uses art as decoration), mostly with geometric shapes. Chrysler didn’t make many changes to Van Alen’s original plans, but he did suggest a now-famous detail: the eight stainless steel eagles that jut out from the 61st floor were modeled after hood ornaments on Chrysler cars.

The competition to create the world’s largest building was fierce. Van Alen was eager to win the title not just for posterity, but because his former partner (now rival), H. Craig Severance, was designing a skyscraper in the Financial District for the Bank of Manhattan. Chrysler and Van Alen announced the plans for their building
and declared it would rise a record-setting 925 feet, making it taller than Severance’s planned construction. Shortly thereafter, Severance and the Bank of Manhattan announced that their new building would include a flagpole, increasing the height to 927 feet.

So Van Alen and Chrysler went back to the drawing board, but they did so in secret. Inside the construction site for the Chrysler Building, a 185-foot-long spire was assembled. After the Bank of Manhattan building was completed in early 1930—when it was too late to make any changes—Chrysler and Van Alen unveiled their spire, raising their building’s official height to 1,046 feet. Chrysler and Van Alen had their record-breaking building, which not only dwarfed the Bank of Manhattan but also the former tallest structure in the world: the Eiffel Tower. Their bragging rights didn’t last long, though. Less than a year after the Chrysler Building’s May 27, 1930, opening, the Empire State Building was completed in New York. It opened on May 1, 1931, and was 1,454 feet tall.

But no matter. The Chrysler Building still has some of the most impressive architectural designs of any skyscraper in the world: Its most memorable and recognizable feature is its stepped dome, whose pattern of parabolic curves and many triangular windows form a series of radiant sunbursts. The Chrysler Building was also one of the first buildings to use stainless steel over a large area of a structure’s surface.

The building’s lobby impressed visitors with its three-story-high red Moroccan marble walls complemented by granite and chrome. It was shaped like a triangle and featured photos of the building itself, taken while it was under construction. The 32 elevators came in five different designs, each one set in art deco geometric patterns and featuring different exotic woods from all over the world.