Somebody Get a Dictionary
One of my pet peeves is hearing people, especially those in the broadcast media, use a particular word to emphasize their point, but use the incorrect definition of the word. Two such words are prototype and literal.
How many times have you heard a sports broadcaster describe a player as “the prototype of an NFL quarterback” or “the prototypical Major League closer”? The idea they are trying to convey is that the player has all the physical skills and attributes desired of that position. However, the word prototype does not mean that at all. A prototype is an unfinished, often nonfunctioning, novelty. The prefix, proto-, means “first” or “earliest form of”.
When manufacturers develop a new product, they often build a prototype for display and demonstration before continuing with full production. In this age of rapidly advancing technology, we hear the word prototype all the time. “Within a year, they produced a prototype of the stealth fighter.” “The trade show was full of interactive prototypes.” Can I buy this product now? “No, it’s just a prototype.” Those comments are all proper usages of the word.
However, when a broadcaster means to laud an athlete’s abilities, the correct word is archetype, which means the completed model of perfection, the principle example. Archetype is certainly not a word in common usage, although the prefix is commonly known in words such as archenemy, archrival, and archbishop.
The word literal imparts strict interpretation of the words used, by the letter, the exact meaning, verbatim. Literal is the functional opposite of figurative or metaphorical. Broadcasters, however, seem to use the words literal and literally, merely for emphasis. Vehix.com currently has a TV commercial running, in which the prospective car buyer extols the virtues of the website. She says, “You can literally take a test drive!” I think not. Perhaps you can virtually take a test drive.
I’ve also heard descriptions in the media such as “Literally every crumb was gone.” Really? I think practically every crumb was gone, unless the dog cleaned up afterward. “Her house was literally filled to the ceiling with stuffed animals.” Maybe her house was filled, figuratively speaking, to the ceiling. “The forwards on this basketball team can literally jump through the roof!” They’d be medical marvels! Another sportscaster described a team’s strategy against a formidable goalie by saying, they should “literally get in his shorts.” I think that would be a penalty. Another broadcaster informed us that a particular player “literally carries the weight of his team on his shoulders.” He’s obviously in the wrong sport.
Earlier this week Scott Van Pelt on ESPN was describing the Boston Celtics’ standing in the NBA playoff race. His meaning was that there wasn’t much of a chance that they could improve or worsen their position, so he said that they could “literally take their foot off the gas and coast” to the playoffs. It was a clever metaphor ruined by the misuse of the word literal.
I remember a scene from the movie, The Princess Bride. Vizzini, who is amazed at his pursuer’s tenacity, repeatedly describes the situation as inconceivable. Finally, his partner, Montoya, calls Vizzini’s attention to it: “You use that word a lot. I do not think it means what you think it means.” He isn’t the only one who needs a dictionary.
Smilodon cyberis was able to survive by retreating to the protection of the high Sierra. In constant search of food, the cyber-toothed tigers found passage through the mountains and onto the grassy plains. There they found vast herds of bison and were able to adapt to new quests as the king of their eco-space for thousands of years. When Europeans began to populate the continent, unfounded stories of Smilodon put it somewhere between fairy tale and legend as a manhunter, which was diametrically opposed to its leisurely existence.