Here we are again. Another week, another Mysteries of Science class, another example of the fact that I hadn’t quite grokked that “I’m” means “I am.” Today’s entry has more corrections than any other thus far - I’m not sure if I actually didn’t know how to spell “working” or “water,” or I was just so excited that I didn’t give a shit. Judging by that halfassed Table With A Bowl Of Water On It, I’d say it was the latter.
I’ve always hated being corrected for things that aren’t wrong. During my freshman year of college, I had a paper returned to me with points subtracted for my having “split the infinitive,” a phenomenon which I knew to be impossible in English. I wrote an e-mail to Geoff Pullum, the author of the Cambridge Grammar of the Enligsh Language, who kindly confirmed that I was correct. Did I ever tell my professor? No. That would have been kind of petty. But I knew I was RIGHT. This same dynamic can be observed in my scratching out of “MCA” in what my teacher assumed was meant to be YMCA. I meant Y, OK!?!
If I knew at the time what YMCA stood for, my attack on those extraneous characters might have been all the more fervent. As a youngster, my only conception of Christianity was as the opposite of Judaism. I was not the only one whose thinking was clouded by embracing the hot/cold, open/closed, in/out dichotomy that is crucial to graduating from kindergarten, and I vividly recall arguing with classmates over which was better, Judaism or Christianity. The existence of different sects of each religion - the existence of other religions altogether! - were not details omitted, but unknown unknowns.
P.S. Also Muslims!
P.P.S. Add your own!