Monday, November 1, 2010

Coming down with literalitis

Someone wrote in The Straits Times today (1 Nov) that while he and his friends "do not admit to practising perfect English, we often find ourselves in stitches when we notice a grammatical error, usually overheard or spotted on a signboard".

Well, I would not laugh at mistakes made by anyone who is humble enough to learn, yours truly included. But I do have a fascination with grammatically correct words that are open to a sometimes more hilarious interpretation. The article below was published in The Straits Times, albeit edited to fit the available space:    

I now suffer from literalitis. Maybe you do too.

If so, like me, a recent  newspaper report about a "passing out parade"
must have puzzled you. I wasn't always like that, for in my schoolday youth
and national service days, I had been through several passing-out parades
and never once buckled under.

But, searching the Internet, I did find a fellow literalitis sufferer, a
blogger from some foreign country. From her account, she was at one such
parade to see her husband, er, pass out from the navy. Here is the
appropriate abstract from her blog:

"The recruits, in my mind, did an awesome display of marching, and then
standing still. For the whole ceremony.

"This is why they call it a Passing Out Parade. Those guys and gals have
to stand stock still for the whole ceremony of about one and a half hours.
After 45 minutes into it, two girls went down. As Admiral Whatsisname was
thanking the families of the recruits for trusting the Navy in looking
after them, two guys went down.

"It was after this that some dude went and told Admiral Whatsisname to
wrap it up."

I know of someone else,  who when he was a young officer in a foreign navy,
had a sudden seizure of literalitis. It all started when, in the process
of writing up a dress code for formal functions, a project officer had
written "trousers, optional" when he had meant "trousers, gold
lace optional". The brave young officer turned up at the next formal dinner
graced by the top brass -- in his uniform top only (and underwear of course).

He avoided being court-martialled only because he had a copy of the dress
code manual with him.

Is there something about navy chaps, or are my two examples above mere
coincidence?

Anyway, my first  inkling of my  literalitis condition was when I was
rushed to a hospital's emergency department in the wee morning hours three
days after Christmas in 2008. I had bled profusely three times, and in
rapid succession, from the rectum. Subsequent events were to justify my
labelling 2008 (at least the year-end) as my year of anus horribilis.

But I digress. What disturbed me no end was a big you-can't-miss-it sign in
the emergency doctor's room with this legend: "Wash hands thoroughly
in-between patients". Considering that the young doctor had just done a
digital rectal examination of me, I looked in fear to see if there was any
other patient within sight of me. Fortunately, there was no one and my
imagined "what can happen next" did not happen.

I was later found to have a condition known as diverticular bleeding. But I
also knew I now had this "other", probably incurable, condition.

So much so that, when I returned to work, certain words etched on the
hands-free paper towel dispenser in the men's loo (I can't vouch for the
women's toilet, obviously) now took on  a new meaning. The words? "Motion
activated".

Moving on, and given my condition, I now have a small list of occupations
that I have issues with. What's a plastic surgeon? Why not go to the real,
flesh-and-blood variety for that body part enhancement? Why a child
psychologist? Are we running out of adults who can do the job?

I also have a literalitis-related issue with some street and expressway
signs too. The too obvious one is "Road Works Here". Heck, we pay good
tax payers' money, so it better. But, really, if I have a magic wand, all I
need to do is to wave it, and the words will be rearranged to read as
"Roadworks here". Crystal clear now, isn't it?

A more subtle traffic sign, which may require a bit of a double-take, is
"Raised zebra crossing". I have no problem with it if there's no
illustration tacked above these words in the warning sign.

Ergo, a zebra (they are oh so common in urban jungle Singapore) had fallen
asleep, it has awakened and is now crossing the road, so dear motorist,
please do be careful and try not to hit it? But right above such wording is
a silhouette of a man crossing the road! What am I to make of this disjuncture?

Entering an expressway tunnel, I often see this: "Do not leave veh in
tunnel". Oh, definitely. But what is a veh?

And recently, some lasik surgeries have been advertising their services. At
least one declares, "One eye xxx dollars. Two eyes xxx dollars." I
think I have just one eye that needs lasik surgery, not both. Now all I have to do
is to find someone who has the same condition, and we can pair up. Anyone
out there who sees eye to eye with me on this?

Postscript:
I had wanted to take a picture of a particular  traffic sign at a major hospital here which warned, "No horning". But I never got round to it.

Recently, I was at the hospital and, happily, the sign now reads "No honking". There is hope yet...

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