This is a pome about a vile, snitty brand of pseudo-intellectual one-upmanship that is becoming increasingly prevalent on social networking sites like Facebook and Twitter. It annoys me so much that I wrote a short story, The Adventures of Snitty the Piss Weasel, about it, but even that didn’t get it out of my system. Hence this pome.
If you’ve been a victim of the Grammar Nazi’s* you have my sympathy, and I for one am willing to give the benefit of the doubt that – just like me – you know full well how to use apostrophes etc but occasionally make typos. If you are one of the Grammar Nazi’s** then just get over yourself, you miserable little tosspot/potess…
I sincerely doubt
That if Shakespeare were alive today
He would spend much time worrying
About greengrocers’ apostrophes.
I similarly doubt
That Hemingway would give a flying fuck,
To paraphrase a lyric from a song by Vampire Weekend,
About an Oxford comma.
I find it hard to imagine that any great writer,
Living or dead,
Would pull themselves out of that zone
Where inspiration flows through them like water
To correct a confusion between the words ‘their’ (t.h.e.i.r)
And ‘they’re (t.h.e.y, apostrophe, r.e)
Or to check precise parameters
For the correct utilisation of a semicolon in a sentence
As prescribed by Strunk and White.
I believe that writers write
And that they largely leave that other stuff
And Piss Weasel’s***.
** Still deliberate, for the same reason.
*** See above.