Literary abominations, x2

[lederhosen]

Back when I was five or six, poor Mrs. Vandermark had no end of difficulty getting me to use full stops. I'd write page upon page that just went on as a single sentence.

Now that I'm pushing thirty, and writing patent applications, I find myself having to unlearn all that and go back to a world where full stops are Not Welcome. It's amusing, in a sad sort of way. Would these things *really* be any less legally binding if we punctuated them occasionally?

In funnier bad-writing news... after vanity press PublishAmerica dissed F/SF writers, thirty-odd professional SFers got together (with a couple of their kids and a random text generator) and set out to write a chapter each for the worst novel they possibly could, before submitting it to PA, who fell over themselves offering to publish it (for a small fee, natch...) See discussion here, here, and here.

I like chapter 10 especially:

The elegant Polo Club walls were adorned with a great plentitude of exquisite paintings, depicting a tremendous multitude of beautiful scenes, with still lives of flowers, horses, sailing boats, and landscapes. They are from all sorts of great painters and they had one every few feet. Their frames are gold gilt and filled with curlicues and fancy carving. The floors were polished white marble, with veins of luminous color running through them, and you can see your countenance in them because they polished every morning...

"Irena," he pontificates. "You are the daughter of Isaac Stevens. I will reveal your dark secret to your father unless you allow me to have my way with you."
"No," exclaimed she, horror stuck.
"Yes," grated he, harshly.
"You will not!" expostulated she.
"I will reveal your dark secret!" exclaimed he.
"I will not allow you to have you way with me!" she avowed.
"You will!" he averted.
"No, you won't reveal my dark secret," threatened she, numbly. "My father will never believe you."
"I will, and he will," exerted her.
"You won't and he won't," claimed he.
"I will, and he will," remonstrated he.
"You won't," explained she, in an explanatory tone of voice. "My father will be very, very, very furious with you. He will certainly blame you."
"I will and he won't," demonstrated he, contemptuously.
"You won't and he will," proclaimed her, definitely.
"I will and he won't," declared he, defiantly.
"You won't," denounced her, angrily. "I already told him last Tuesday."
It was as if a copious galleon of wintry water had been surreptitiously poured over his hansom head. He sat stonily and goggled explicitly and gaped impassively as if he were a fish precipitously extracted from its appropriately aqueous environment. He boisterously, wordlessly, softly sputtered like a boiling tea kettle. He stolidly sat like an ancient, moss-overgrown statue from the radiantly fragrant gardens that the noble city was plenteously, bountifully endowed with.

Comments

[panacea1.livejournal.com]

Now that I'm pushing thirty, and writing patent applications, I find myself having to unlearn all that and go back to a world where full stops are Not Welcome. It's amusing, in a sad sort of way. Would these things *really* be any less legally binding if we punctuated them occasionally?

Use semicolons, lots of semicolons; the help break legalese and other convoluted language into almost-manageable chunks without actually separating the sentence into bits which the lawyers might attempt to parse as severable; also, semicolons are a sign that the user has at least completed a high school education, which should impress patent officials; furthermore they're kind of nifty looking.

*polite applause*

[shadow-5tails.livejournal.com]

I was about to suggest the Semicolon Solution, which is one I'm quite fond of; I don't think that I'd have said it nearly as well, however, as it's been presented above.

M'Lady Thena, I commend you.

[shadow-5tails.livejournal.com]

It was as if a copious galleon of wintry water had been surreptitiously poured over his hansom head. He sat stonily and goggled explicitly and gaped impassively as if he were a fish precipitously extracted from its appropriately aqueous environment. He boisterously, wordlessly, softly sputtered like a boiling tea kettle. He stolidly sat like an ancient, moss-overgrown statue from the radiantly fragrant gardens that the noble city was plenteously, bountifully endowed with.

*blink*

That's...beyond appalling.

I am full of the fear, but siezed by an irresistible compulsion to read the rest at some point. You, sir, are a bad influence!

[lederhosen.livejournal.com]

*beam*

[shadow-5tails.livejournal.com]

*patpats*