The word “radical” is an adjective. An adjective modifies a noun. “Radical” is not a noun. A person cannot be “a” radical. Just one small example.

 

One of the linguistic phenomena of our times is the mutation of grammatical function. No one can author a book, nor can anyone pen a book. One must write a book, perhaps with a pen, and thereby become an author. I’m not talking about the obvious and better-recognized mutations of diction, e.g., pro-choice, gay, etc., but about mutated grammar.

 

Now, any rational person might wonder how on earth I could be so pedantic. In a world where one major disaster follows another, why on earth does such trivia matter? It matters.

 

I concede to the caricature of an old maid schoolteacher, wearing glasses and a sour expression of disapproval. Ridicule me all you want. Accuse me of hypercriticism, blame me for your F in English, condemn me for picking nits, assume that I don’t know what’s “really” important, and imagine all you want to that I’m sexually repressed. (What you don’t know about that latter bit won’t hurt you.) But I’m going to make a few flat and unapologetic statements here:

 

1. Grammar is the foundation on which all logic rests. (Grammar’s not important?)

 

2. The function of language is to define reality. (It’s not important?)

 

3. A person’s relative sanity is historically determined by his ability to “make sense.” How? His language. (How important is it?)

 

Back in the days when people actually “dated,” I sometimes met someone who ruined all chance of future development by making this inane remark: “Oh, you’re an English professor? I’d better watch my grammar!” (The remark was usually followed by a stupid smirk.) I’d reply with something like: “Oh, you’re an architect? I’d better check the design of my house.” The truth is that grammar more than affects, or influences, our speech or writing—it actually determines our thoughts.

 

No one can be a radical. It’s possible to be an “extremist,” but only if both the issue and the position have been specifically identified beforehand. But when commentators, political/social, ecclesial/theological, whatever, use such terms, they’re not communicating, they’re manipulating. It’s prudent to just turn them off. Anyone who has anything really meaningful to say will always take great care to say it—excuse the expression—correctly. It’s revealing to see how seldom political and grammatical correctness occupy the same verbal space. Someone who’s trying to defend a child’s right to live can’t refer to “reproductive health.” Inevitably, he’ll end up getting flustered, stammering. Why? Because he’s thinking correctly and the stupid phrase won’t fit in correct thinking. It’s like trying to put a sock on a shoe instead of on a foot. It’s crazy. But it’s just this kind of (bleep) that’s polluting our minds, rendering them incapable of rational thought.  

 

How important is it? It’s important.