Punk
Jew-Asian tales
By Randy Koch
Lucy Liu and Adam
Sandler’s tattooed and mohawked love child was
spotted last night at a posh Hollywood night spot.
When cornered and asked why his famous parents had
kept his existence a secret for over 15 years, he
loosed a stream of slang and expletives which, interpreted
with the help of a street-smart translator, amounted
to this: "That was my bloody choice. Who wants
to be known as the son of a Charlie’s Angel
and Little Nicky, the son of the devil?" In another
unrelated story, Johnny Rotten’s new international
band is on the last two legs of a moderately anticipated
world tour. On Wednesday, they’ll perform near
the newest band members’ homes: a kibbutz outside
of Haifa, Israel, and then over the weekend small
venues in Katmandu, Nepal; Ulan Bator, Mongolia; and
P’yongyang, North Korea. No one expects them
to return to Londonderry, England, any time soon.
All right, I admit it -- this isn’t about punk
Jew-Asians. I feared that if you knew the actual subject
of this article, you’d flip the page. My apologies
for misleading you, but introductions to dull subjects
sometimes call for desperate measures. If I haven’t
overly insulted your intelligence or your sense of
political correctness, I hope you’ll join me
in a closer look at (say it fast) punk-jew-asian,
punc-jew-asian, punc-chew-ashun, punc-tu-ation.
With good reason, I prefer one mark to all others.
Period. It’s the one that makes writing with
a pencil a joy, the one that -- when I reach the end
of a sentence in which I outline my disgust with the
tasteless, sexist ads in one local paper’s sports
section -- I can pound home with a thud, a splintering
of graphite, and a shattering of yellow-painted wood.
The British call it the stop (I can hear the voice-over
in Monty Python’s Flying Circus warning, "And
now for something completely different," and
then the punctuated introduction, "Thee Stop"),
but I’m disappointed that they chose this mundane
road-sign label. The American "period" is
too flabby with its three syllables rather than a
short, abrupt word. And while Carlos Flores suggests
"death," a term he considers more Mexican,
I’m partial to something less morbid, something
sharper and more physical, like "bolt."
I like the idea of telling students who write run-ons
and comma splices, "Bolt down that clause."
Maybe the word would make them feel there’s
something substantial to be done and enthusiastically
search for the end of a sentence instead of letting
it flop around in the wind like a kite that’s
wrested itself from a child’s hand. Regardless
of its name, I’m grateful that the U.S. Postal
Service made periods in abbreviations for states obsolete.
What joy was there in that little dot after those
chopped-off names? Give me a firm, resolute, direct
statement, however, and I will -- with pleasure --
pound home the point by ending with a lead-shattering,
tablet-tearing period.
Nothing should be easier than deciding where a question
mark goes. Right? Usually it’s obvious, but
special circumstances involving quotation marks or
questions within questions often puzzle even fairly
experienced writers. Generally speaking, put the question
mark inside the quotation marks if the question mark
applies to what’s inside the quotation marks.
For example, I asked, "Where do I put the question
mark in this sentence?" In this case, it belongs
inside the quotation marks since the question is also
inside. However, where does the question mark go if
I say, "Punctuating sentences is really quite
easy"? Here a statement appears inside the quotation
marks, but the question appears outside, so we place
the question mark after the quotation marks.
On the other hand, when we have questions within questions,
things appear a little trickier, but take note of
the power of a single question mark. Consider this
sentence, which contains three questions and two different
sets of quotation marks: Yesterday did I hear you
ask Miguel, "Did José really read Ed Wehde’s
article ‘Do You Know the Way to San José?’"
Rather than piling up several question marks, one
for each of the three questions in this sentence,
one will suffice for all of them. Think like a mathematician
here; I call this principle the Distributive Property
of Question Marks, wherein the power of a single question
mark is distributed across one or more questions in
a single sentence. It’s the equivalent of this
mathematical equation -- [6 + (6/3)]·2 -- wherein
2, which appears outside the brackets, is multiplied
across the entire quantity inside the brackets. In
our sentence, even though the question mark appears
inside the quotation marks, it applies to the questions
both inside and outside of the quotation marks.
More thoughtful -- though less attractive -- is the
semicolon. This hybrid, a cross between a comma and
a period and with the stature of a colon, is a tentative
glyph -- wanting to bring things to a halt but unwilling
or unable to act decisively. Like its father, the
period, it wants to stop; like its mother, the comma,
it’s bent on going on, and so it finds itself
burdened with tasks that no other punctuation mark
is willing to take on. Most commonly, it joins complete
thoughts that are logically related; the movement
from one to the other occurs in the reader’s
mind without the assistance of language. On occasion,
however, the semicolon lends a hand in complicated
lists where individual elements contain commas, and
semicolons mark the end of one element and the beginning
of another. Consider, for example, this sentence:
I had good intentions of quitting after these brief,
discursive examinations of the bold, manly period;
the curvaceous question mark; and the less decisive,
unattractive semicolon; however, our writing lives
are filled with other even more interesting notations.
The apostrophe -- that comma filled with helium, that
fly fisherman’s hook dangled above the surface
of a sentence, that Boy Scout who pulls the "not"
taut, the tempter of those who would make "it"
possessive -- delights in causing confusion. Like
the semicolon, its -- not "it’s,"
which always equals "it is" -- lower class
cousin, the apostrophe holds down two regular jobs:
forming the possessive of singular and plural nouns
(Jesse’s girl, the people’s court, the
Cantús’ house) and contracting words
by taking the place of a missing letter (’twas,
wasn’t, aren’t, etc.), several letters
(I’d, she’d, you’ve, etc.), or numbers
(Class of ’03 or a ’57 Chevy). Occasionally
it moonlights by working with s to form the plural
of letters, numbers and words as it does here: A lipogramme
is a novel that contains no e’s.
E-mail has made shortcuts like emoticons popular and
probably quadrupled the average person’s use
of the colon. While it bears a remarkable resemblance
to a reclining person’s eyes, it’s frequently
misused. People often place a colon immediately after
a linking verb, but they are: wrong. Likewise, those
who place it after a transitive verb deny: that they,
too, are WRONG! Yes, most people know how to use it
in indications of time (10:25 p.m.), after a salutation
in a formal letter (Dear Mr. Letterman:), or between
a main title and a subtitle (Martha Stewart: The Sellebrity’s
Inside Buyography). However, few people seem aware
that an independent clause (no, not Santa without
a corporate sponsor but a group of words that can
stand alone as a sentence) must precede the colon.
The colon also points to a logical connection between
the independent clause and whatever follows it: a
word, a phrase, a clause, or even another sentence.
Permit me to offer some advice: if colons trouble
you, don’t assume that a colonoscopy will solve
your problems.
Next, please, follow me down this short hall. I know
it’s dark; stay close. Here we are. Allow me
to open the quotation marks so that we can step inside.
No, don’t worry about closing them; we’ll
do that when we get to the other end, but first let’s
look around. We can’t put just anything here;
this space is reserved for some very specific information.
First, quotation marks contain dialogue, or the words
spoken by characters in a story. Did you say, "This
is fascinating"? I’m glad you think so.
Second, we use quotation marks to indicate language
that we’ve quoted directly from an outside source
when writing a documented paper. And third, according
to "Quotation Marks," a chapter in Karen
Elizabeth Gordon’s The Well-Tempered Sentence:
A Punctuation Handbook for the Innocent, the Eager,
and the Doomed, "quotation marks also enclose
titles of short stories and poems, chapters, essays,
articles, television and radio programs, and short
musical compositions" (81). Why yes, this space
can accomodate a variety of things. This concludes
our brief tour. Watch your step as you leave, and
yes, I have, indeed, already closed the quotation
marks.
Unless you want to sound like a pubescent girl excited
that Nick, the no-neck star of the high school football
team, grunted three inaudible words at you, you will
use exclamation points rarely and with discretion.
Occasionally you’ll need one when writing dialogue
(Mr. Bly yelled, "Don’t you use that tone
with me, young man!"), but you should almost
never use an exclamation point in formal or academic
writing or in the narrative of a story since emotion
must be conveyed with language and content, not with
punctuation. Also, notice in the above example about
Mr. Bly where the exclamation point is placed and
that the same rules that applied to question marks
with quotation marks also apply to exclamation points
with quotation marks. If at this point you’re
inclined to write this sentence -- I have never been
so excited about punctuation in my life -- I won’t
criticize you at all for placing one (or even two
or three) exclamation points after it.
Many people think that commas are like salt and pepper,
seasoning to be sprinkled into a manuscript according
to taste. "I haven’t used one in several
sentences," they argue, "so I must need
one here." Then they further justify their decision
by saying, "It felt like a pause was needed"
or "The reader needed a chance to catch his breath."
Commas are neither a condiment nor breathing directions;
they are, instead, tools for making the meaning of
language clear and, as such, the most used, abused,
and misunderstood member of the punctuation family.
Take, for example, this sentence which uses a coordinating
conjunction, the most common tool in English for joining
independent clauses: "The stag party was attended
by my best friends and my future mother-in-law stayed
home to watch Touched by an Angel reruns." Notice
how the absence of the comma midway through the sentence
could easily provoke a heart attack in someone unprepared
for the mother-in-law’s presence at the party.
A simple comma before the conjunction "and"
will spare your reader unnecessary ambulance and hospital
bills by preventing any possible misreading of the
sentence.
Similarly, an appropriately used comma with a subordinate
clause (subordinating conjunctions being the second
most popular connector in English) will also prevent
your readers from jumping to wrong conclusions. Consider
this sentence without a comma: "When I took a
picture of Laura Winchester stood behind her and picked
his nose." Notice how a comma after the introductory
subordinate clause can prevent readers from getting
confused halfway through the sentence and having to
reread it: "When I took a picture of Laura, Winchester
stood behind her and picked his nose." If the
clause isn’t introductory, the comma isn’t
necessary and still no confusion results: "Winchester
stood behind Laura and picked his nose when I took
a picture of her."
Relative clauses, however, pose a different kind of
challenge to writers trying to punctuate their sentences.
The absence of commas can change the information in
a relative clause from supplementary to mandatory
material. If you are a man, the use of commas in the
following sentence will be of particular interest
to you: "Women are attracted to men who are fascinated
with punctuation." This sentence means that women
are only attracted to those men who are fascinated
with punctuation. A comma, however, makes a world
of difference here. If I say, "Women are attracted
to men, who are fascinated with punctuation,"
I mean that women are attracted to all men; plus,
I’ve included some bonus material about men
-- they are all fascinated with punctuation -- which
may or may not have anything to do with their popularity
with women. If you’re a man, commas here will
likely help you decide if you should spend more time
studying this article.
Commas are also necessary in a variety of other places,
most of which people are familiar with -- between
the items in a list, after a greeting in a personal
letter, between an attribution and the words spoken
in dialogue, between a city and state in an address,
between a conjunctive adverb and the independent clause
to which it’s connected, etc. No, commas aren’t
needed with a hamburger and pickles but they are with
a hamburger, pickles, lettuce, and tomato. Be a connoisseur
of commas; better yet, be a commassieur.
I could go on, of course, with great relish, but I’ll
spare you the other desperate measures to which I’d
resort in order to keep you interested. I won’t
impose any more puns on you or dream that my comments
are punctuated with your laughter. I will only bid
you farewell, trusting you’ve gained by my digressions
but regretting that I did not introduce you to --
oh, the tragedy! -- the dash, to the multi-talented
hyphen, or to ellipses. . . .
(Randy Koch teaches
English and directs the Writing Center at Texas A&M
International University.)
Local Writers at Work
An open-mike reading was held at El Café del
Barrio on Friday, January 24. While the turnout was
small, the works and ideas exchanged were big. Thanks
again to Raquel Valle Sentíes for opening her
home to us.
Congratulations to
TAMIU professor and poet Dr. Suzette Bishop, whose
manuscript She Took Off Her Wings and Shoes, recently
won The May Swenson Poetry Award, sponsored by Utah
State University Press. Nationally known poet Alicia
Ostriker selected her manuscript from 800 entries.
Dr. Bishop’s book will be published by Utah
State University Press, and she will receive $1,000
and royalties. Ostriker will write a foreword for
the book, scheduled to be published by this summer.