Mad Libs, Schoolhouse Rock, and MetroDad.

Over the past few days, MetroDad has posted about Mad Libs, Schoolhouse Rock, homemade popsicles, Free To Be You And Me, Poprocks, and the importance of good grammar. Throw some Fudgsicles and grape snowcones into that list and I’m yours forever.

How cool is that?

But it was this post right here that has proven to me that he is a god. I even read through his comments and made a list of other people who might be gods, too. I must check out their blogs; there’s plenty of room up here on Mt. Olympus for anyone who would never write “parallel” or “genealogy” without making darn sure they were spelled correctly, and who cringed when they saw that Sandra Bullock and Hugh Grant had made a movie called “Two Weeks Notice.” (grammar not included, apparently. . . .)

And yes, parallel structure is very important, but after you understand and can use the rule correctly, you are allowed to break it if you do it on purpose. (see above paragraph.)

Oh, who am I kidding? I would never judge anyone based solely on their grammar. I might hire or not hire you, but I would never judge you.

Well, maybe I would, just a little bit.

Or a lot. It depends.

You know, ‘depends.’ Adult diapers made specifically to hold a lot of shit.

(Above rant was an aftereffect of wading through a zillion really bad essays, several of which spelled ‘told’ TOLLED.) (One essay used the expression “should have gone died.”) (So it isn’t really any of you I’m after.) (Please don’t be offended.) (I mean, how would you deal with an essay wherein a student in his twenties wrote “Them women must never ever be feared to report such nonsense as rape and destructivation of the soul.”?) (Or how about this one: “I wish I could be on time more eventfully, but my car isn’t my car, it’s my girlfriends car, and she say it idn’t mine to judge who drive it when and where and the clock beats me ever time so nobody can judge me facetelly unless fate beat them out of chance like me. My latess and failures are other peoples faultes.”)

Help me, Obi-Wan. You’re my only hope.

(“In the end, it’s the end that matters, not the other kind of end. Endings are important, except when they’re sometimes not, like death or marriage.”)


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *