Rolling on polling

Anytime I hear someone refer to a poll of a small number of people as representing an entire group, I cringe for a split-second and then I tacitly append "…and I give credence to that poll because it supports my position" to the end of the argument, and then there's no need for quibbling. I concede that no one has time to solicit the specific input of large groups (especially if we're talking about hundreds of millions of citizens), and our republic operates on the notion of a small number representing the rest, so we must accept the inherent limitations and flaws of polls and surveys for pragmatic considerations.

Comma on

As I've noted in a previous post there's little point in quibbling certain faux pas of rhetoric/linguistics (not that I'm implying those are merely two names for the same thing but for our purposes here let's go with it); the point of language is to convey meaning, and thus as long as the audience can discern what the speaker/writer intended without having to exert extra mental effort to get that, it's not worth belaboring instances where the speaker/writer did not comply with standard rules. That's not suggesting those of us who do spot the modest errors won't notice (and, if appropriate—such as in academic or professional contexts, or most certainly if one is a proofreader—offer recommendations to the offenders to help them try to avoid the same mistakes in the future), but in casual contexts I believe it's not worth getting worked up over.

As a test of who qualifies as the rhetoric sticklers I am talking about: If you noticed that first paragraph has only one period and that it's only through the use of what I suspect some would consider the questionable use of a semicolon that the single period is even possible, you are a likely candidate. In addition, if you bristled at seeing the closing clause concluded with a preposition, you are precisely the sort of person to whom I was referring. Just so we're clear. (And you have my sympathy, I assure you.)

Without question there are instances where such a person should have been involved and clearly was not (perhaps in the beginning of this sentence, where I start in the plural when referring to the "instances" but switch to the singular for "person" for the second part, as I wished to indicate each as an individual instance—that much certainly could be reconsidered by an editor if I had one, but I like to believe the meaning got through nonetheless). An example of that I noticed this morning while passing a billboard at a bus stop. The ad was for the California Lottery's "Set For Life" Scratchers game, and featured the line: "Go ahead, have the cashews from the mini bar."

What I learned in college

On last week's episode of this podcast, during a discussion on college admissions (and the complexities thereof) spurred by this book, the question of what kind of education one receives at universities came up. One of the panelists, after conceding that going to college is very beneficial for one's life (particularly for one's later earning potential), he questioned whether students actually learn anything there.

He admitted, reflecting back on his liberal arts degree, that he remembered nothing from his time spent in classrooms.

Another panelist duly identified that the onus is on the student to make the effort to learn, despite all the distractions of the larger college experience.

These two thoughts pretty well captured my take on what I got out of college.

"Falling" in love

Does the phrase "falling in love" not suggest that love is a base, a fundamental aspect of the human experience? Clearly if you fall you descend, you go from a standing posture to one where you succumb to gravity's pull. You are essentially losing control of your ability to be upright.

On that point, the act of "falling" in love is somewhat analogous; it's not really a matter of willing yourself to be "in love" but relinquishing control of your emotions. However, unlike literal falling where you descend quickly and stop only by catching yourself or by hitting the ground and it happens suddenly, the "falling" associated with love is often used to describe a process that starts slightly and grows, developing over time, and not really like literal falling any more.

Faded Orange Ranunculus

Back in February over at the photo site I posted some shots of ranunculus when they were freshly cut, which I posted here. However, today I wanted to alert the interested that there's a new post up at the photo site featuring those same flowers two weeks later (yes, the lasted that long).

Below are a couple examples, and you can click here to check out the rest.