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I dreamed the ampersand asked me to write a character reference: To whom it may concern,
I confirm that I have known & for a # of years. Indeed, & officiated at my wedding to my better half. Having earned varsity letters in wrestling and macramé, & will be a valuable asset if drafted or otherwise conscripted into small business. Proficient in Latin and sign language, &’s communication style is to the point. A natural mediator and expert on mergers, & is an all-around exceptional character.
Sincerely,
;
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I dreamed of a wheelchair. Or was it an ampersand? [Thank you Steve Mitchell for the kudos: "It is enchanting to see that there are other obsessive people out there willing to make a fuss of our wonderful language to keep its use from foundering." |
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Learn about the proposed interrocolon here.
I dreamed of a funhouse mirror, which warped and inverted my reflection. Then, suddenly, the funhouse transformed into my own living room, and the strange reflection became an interrocolon, who was visiting for tea. |
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I couldn't sleep last night. I tried counting sheep . . . but only saw ellipses! |
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i dreamed of the eye and the beard of an Egyptian deity. [This dream was inspired by Gary Barwin.] |
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I dreamed I participated in a cakewalk with a spastic colon. (My dream was no doubt inspired by Jeff at Omegaword.) |
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[Dedicated to our friends at The Ampersand blog.] I dreamed I visited Ampersand Mountain / Lake / Stream.*
* Which came first: Ampersand Stream, or Lake, or Mountain? Here's an intriguing explanation from The Gentleman's Magazine, 1892: Ampersand
is a mountain. It is a lake. It is a stream. The mountain stands in
the heart of the Adirondack country, just near enough to the
thoroughfare of travel for thousands of people to see it every year,
and just far enough away from the beaten track to be unvisited, except
by a very few of the wise ones who love to digress. Behind the
mountain is the lake, which no lazy man has ever seen. Out of the lake
flows the stream, winding down a long, untrodden forest valley, until
at length it joins the Stony Creek waters, and empties into the
Raquette River. Which of the three Ampersands has the prior claim to
the name I cannot tell.
Philosophically speaking, the mountain
ought to be regarded as the father of the family, because it was
undoubtedly there before the others existed. And the lake was probably
the next on the ground, because the stream is its child. But man is
not strictly correct in his nomenclature; and I conjecture that the
little river, the last-born of the three, was the first to be called
Ampersand, and then gave its name to its parent and grandparent. It is
such a crooked stream, so bent and curved and twisted upon itself, so
fond of turning around unexpected corners, and sweeping away in great
circles from its direct course, that its first explorers christened it
after the eccentric supernumerary of the alphabet which appears in the
old spelling book as &.
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I dreamed of Lord Whimsy's elegant quill pen, its down-like barbs quavering between waggish quips. "Call me partisan," I recall him saying, "but I've always enjoyed the brief conversational pauses [semicolons] create. They also allow for a complexity and artistry in the text; without them, language seems to devolve into a series of hard, curt, declarative chirps." |
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Our Semicolon's Dream Journal was honored by a mention over at Blue Pencil Editing blog: I'm sure many editors have dreams (or more likely nightmares) about punctuation, but have you ever wondered what punctuation dreams about? Author and language enthusiast Craig Conley has. The result is his highly inventive - and humorous - A Semicolon's Dream Journal, which taps into the mind of this often misunderstood, and therefore misused, punctuation mark. If dreams are "the language of the subconscious," Conley is the semicolon's interpreter. Speaking of the word dream, is the past tense dreamed or dreamt? The Blue Pencil Editing blog has the answer. |
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Encarta covered our Semicolon's Dream Journal this week. In her witty and mirthful defense of the semicolon, columnist Martha Brockenbrough, author of Things That Make Us (Sic), wrote: Best, however, is the advocacy of Craig Conley, America's most creative and diligent scholar of letters, words and punctuation. To wit: Conley has created a punctuation mark (the rhetorical question mark), he has written a book of one-letter words, and he is so closely related to the semicolon's spirit that he has been appointed official keeper of its dream journal.
That's right, all you haters. The semicolon has dreams: dreams of rest and relaxation at Semicolon Lakes, of conversations about Shakespeare with the mischievous Puck, and even -- gasp -- of the nightmare that is semicolon cancer.
As Conley explained his close relationship with the semicolon, "I first dreamed that I was a semicolon when I was 6 years old. I vividly recall the uncanny experience of being frozen betwixt two closely related sentences. They called me 'the Go-Between.' In my dream, the words all glowed with an otherworldly green life force. Little surprise, then, that when I got my first IBM PC a decade later, typing my first glowing green semicolon brought the dream rushing back. For the past two decades, I've kept a dream journal from the semicolon's point of view."
Conley is happy when semicolons visit not just his dreams, but his discourse. He agrees with the music essayist Steven Harvey, who said in "Bound for Shady Grove" that the semicolon creates a "ringing emptiness" that "clears a space," a space for sacred silence that seals thoughts together. And he quotes Jesus Urzagasti from "In the Land of Silence," who said semicolons give us the air we need.
It's true, Conley said, that semicolons are asymmetrical. Beauty and symmetry are traditionally linked. But who doesn't admire the crooked Venus de Milo, who is one decapitated head away from being a sculptural semicolon herself?
Read the full article here.
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I dreamed I attended the gala Semicolon Ball at the Ducal Palace, where I danced the night away with John McIntyre of the Baltimore Sun. John recalls the exhilaration that was National Grammar Day: The cheers of the crowds lining the streets at the parade still echo in one’s ears. It was a swirl of events, the hourly cannon fire salute from the Citadel, the Te Deum sung at the Cathedral, the torchlight procession and laying of a wreath at the Cenotaph of the Unknown Copy Editor, the fireworks display, the Semicolon Ball at the Ducal Palace, the governor’s generous clemency in releasing the detainees from the stockade at midnight. A glorious day.
--- TootsNYC wrote: I think it would be fun to dance the night away w/ John McIntyre.
(btw, have you read the last page of "The Wintersmith" by Terry Pratchett? You should, you "tricksie semicolon," you.)
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