English is a cruel language. Hyphenation rules mean that a
water-skier water-skis on water skis. The abbreviated version of
"until" is not "'til" but the bizarrely spelled and unpunctuated
"till." And try explaining to any poor soul struggling to learn
English the logic behind the pronunciation of "through," "though" and
"throw."
But such random acts of cruelty don't mean that the whole system
is viciously, homicidally, reality-TV-caliber cruel. Sometimes the
language can be quite forgiving, and that's when it's really cruel.
Example: We've all heard of a crime called the "split infinitive."
"Star Trek" gave us our most famous example of a split infinitive in
the phrase, "to boldly go." But though this ominous term looms large
in the public consciousness, a rather important fact is left out:
There's no rule against splitting infinitives.
A quick refresher: Think of an infinitive as a verb preceded by
"to" -- to walk, to think, to write, to boycott reality TV. Whenever
you put something between the "to" and its companion, you're
splitting the infinitive. And there's nothing wrong with that.
From the "Chicago Manual of Style": "Although from about 1850 to
1925 many grammarians stated otherwise, it is now widely acknowledged
that adverbs sometimes justifiably separate the 'to' from the
principal verb, 'They expect to more than double their income next
year.'"
From the Associated Press Stylebook: "Occasionally, however, a
split is not awkward and is necessary to convey the meaning: 'He
wanted to really help his mother.' 'Those who lie are often found
out.'"
From Strunk and White's "The Elements of Style": "Some infinitives
seem to improve on being split, just as a stick of round stovewood
does. 'I cannot bring myself to really like the fellow."
Deane in Corona del Mar took me to task for splitting an
infinitive when I wrote, "if you continue to diligently pursue."
Deane thought that "if you continue diligently to pursue the goal"
flows more smoothly. I wrote him back and said I disagreed, but now
I'm starting to see his point. Either way, it's a question of flow
and intent, not some cruel ghost rule ("ghost rule" being a term I
just now coined to describe mythical language laws that cause people
to live in fear unnecessarily).
Ann of City Unknown is also the victim of a ghost rule. She
writes: "The last sentence of today's (Sunday's) editorial states,
'...none are quite there now.' I believe 'none' equals 'no one.'
Therefore, shouldn't the sentence read, 'none is quite there now?'"
