Check for blind spots

The Checklist Manifesto contends that using a checklist for any task helps to avoid overlooking details. Kathryn Schultz sees a problem with those checklists because they need to be kept short to make them useable, and “omissions can have grave consequences.” Leaving out items that “are deemed either too routine or too rare to merit inclusion,” leads to a “phenomenon known as inattentional blindness: when you ask people to look for something specific, they develop a startling inability to see things …that would normally be glaringly obvious” (Huffington Post 4/1/10).
Wouldn’t we know that he did it on purpose just to be expelled from West Point, we could assume that it was this blindness that caused Edgar Allen Poe to attend a parade where gloves and a belt explicitly were required. He showed up wearing those two accessories – but nothing else.
Yet, a checklist can be a good thing, for example when deciding whether to purchase a cartridge coffee maker or a drip coffee maker. The cartridge machine may come out the winner because it has one decisive advantage: it helps to avoid “making a pot, most of which will be thrown out” (Sam Allis/Boston.com 3/8/10). Normally glaringly obvious that no method of brewing coffee requires to discard parts of the pot, a writer’s inattentional blindness may make him indeed throw out the pot with the coffee - or the music with the money. “The only lessons I had as a child were piano lessons, and believe me, the $3 my determined mother forked over to Mrs. Donohue every Saturday morning for two years was a musical calamity” (Michael Winerip/NYT 3/28).
While money certainly isn’t a musical dilemma, Congress’s modus operandi apparently is a political one. “It is an ugly process. It was ugly when Republicans were in charge, it was ugly when Democrats were in charge” (B. Obama/Fox News 3/17/10). Was it attentional or inattentional blindness which made the speaker not see that Democrats still are in charge? Yet, according to David Brooks, Democrats prefer anyway to be remembered for their glorious past, a time when they “protected the unemployed starting with the New Deal, then the old, then the poor” (NYT 3/21/10). And what came (ro comes?) after the poor deal?

Always check the antecedent: an antecedent is an expression (usually a noun or noun phrase) to which another expression (an anaphor) refers. The relationship between noun and anaphor must be absolutely clear. Sentences in which this relationship is strained, avenge themselves on a writer's inattention by twisting his or her intention.

Missing antecedent: “...making a pot, most of which will be thrown out:” the pronoun which grammatically refers to pot instead of the correct but missing antecedent coffee. ..."making a pot of coffee, most of which will be thrown out."
Intervening antecedent: “The only lessons I had as a child were piano lessons, and believe me, the $3 my determined mother forked over to Mrs. Donohue every Saturday morning for two years was a musical calamity:” The writer probably did not want to say that the $3 were a musical calamity, rather that the lessons were. Yet the three dollars are the closest subject of the verb was to which the subject complement musical calamity can refer, and thus three dollars usurps the role of antecedent. To avoid such unclear references, the proper antecedent must be repeated and the sentence slightly changed. "... and believe me, despite the $3 my determined mother forked over to Mrs. Donohue every Saturday morning for two years, those piano lessons were a musical calamity.")
Ambiguous antecedent: They “protected the unemployed starting with the New Deal, then the old, then the poor:” Even though we can assume (based on the use of lower case versus capitals) that the old and the poor are a continuation of the list that began with the unemployed, the placement of these two items suggests that the adjectives old and poor modify the immediately preceding deal. To avoid ambiguity, the sentence needs rephrasing. "Starting with the New Deal, they protected the unemployed, then the old, then the poor."

Maverick sentences

Mavericks are those who do not follow accepted rules, who zig where others zag. Fairly recently, the term's positive connotation (a person disregarding rules to advantage) has been exploited in politics, alas not at all successfully. In writing, too, kicking over the traces is not a ticket to success – if we agree that success means to be coherent and clear.

To investigate the life of the "eponymous hero" Samuel Maverick, Philip Dodd traveled to Texas where “At certain times the mosquitoes away from the water’s edge were thick in the air.” This sentence lacks coherence because material is inserted between the subject and the predicate. A prepositional phrase (at certain times) is followed by the subject (the mosquitoes), which is followed by a prepositional phrase (away from the water’s edge), followed by the verb (were) before the sentence ends with another prepositional phrase (in the air). The sentence becomes stringy and hard to follow. Reorganizing the parts and simplifying the vocabulary improves the sentence’s coherence: Away from the water’s edge, the mosquitoes were sometimes thick in the air.

Incoherent sentences often fail to establish a precise relationship between their parts. "I had realized how vulnerable the Gulf Coast was to extreme weather conditions flying in, or trying to, the night before." What this sentence actually says is that weather conditions were flying in during the night. Again, reorganizing the parts clarifies who was flying: Flying in, or trying to, the night before, I had realized how vulnerable the Gulf Coast was to extreme weather conditions.

A similar case of confusion about who is doing what occurs when Dodd recounts that "In 1942 Dr. Lewis A. Maverick confirmed that it was the cowboys who herded the cattle who had spread the term 'maverick' as they moved on to other jobs and thought the word was disseminated during the big cattle drives from Texas up to Montana and the northern states." Apparently, the cowboys moved to other jobs and did some thinking on the way. However, the person thinking about the dissemination of the word was Dr. Lewis A. Maverick: In 1942, Dr. Lewis A. Maverick confirmed that the cowboys who herded the cattle had spread the term “maverick” as they moved on to other jobs and that the word was disseminated during the big cattle drives from Texas up to Montana and the northern states. The insertion of a simple that ties the second part of the sentence to its main verb confirmed. (Philipp Dodd, "Samuel Maverick")

But what the heck is William Sanders doing? "William Sanders, a statistician studying Tennessee teachers with a colleague, found that a student with a weak teacher for three straight years would score, on average, 50 percentile points behind a similar student with a strong teacher for those years" (Elizabeth Green, "Building a Better Teacher"). Whether this is a groundbreaking discovery or not, the sentence suggests that this researcher studies teachers who have a colleague. In fact, he is a statistician who together with a colleague is studying Tennessee teachers.

Maybe those weak teacher who drag their students down studied under one of those “methods professors [who] have never set foot in a classroom or have not done so recently” (Green). Those who never set foot in a classroom, didn’t do so recently. That’s pretty obvious. But those who haven’t done so recently not necessarily have never done it. We evidently deal with two sets of methods professors, and a sentence not mangled by ambiguity should clearly distinguish between some methods professors who have never set foot in a classroom and others who have not done so recently.

Cheese is always the perfect last course. So how about "slicing some pecorino for a simple lunch of crusty bread, foggy green olive oil and a bottle of rosso di Montalcino. The cheese was decidedly creamier, akin to the difference between Greek yogurt and the nonfat kind" (Danielle Pergament "Tuscany Without the Crowds"). The incoherence of this sentence is caused by its illogical connections. The cheese is not creamier than the rosso di Montalcino but probably creamier than the store-bought kind, and it is more akin to Greek yoghurt than to the nonfat kind, not to the difference between the two.

Dreadfully puzzling

"If you knew Time as well as I do, you wouldn’t talk about wasting it. It’s him,” according to the Mad Hatter.



A problem is seeping into writing like the coal ashes from a Tennessee power plant into the Emory River, almost imperceptibly, yet perniciously. The problem is called unclear reference, the ambiguous use of pronouns.
Pronouns are stand-ins for nouns. We use them (the pronoun them, for instance, here stands in for the word pronoun) in order to avoid excessive repetition of the same word or name. However, it gets tricky when a pronoun could theoretically refer to more than one antecedent, the word it replaces.
To curb the environmental hazards of the 2009 Tennessee accident, the ashes are removed from the Emory River. “Sediment can be seen in the Emory River as machines pump it into holding ponds.” Even though we can logically infer that the river’s water is pumped into ponds where it then can be cleaned, the sentence itself is ambiguous. The antecedent of the “it” the machines are pumping could be the noun “sediment” or the name “Emory River.” Neither really makes sense because one cannot pump sediment or an entire river into holding ponds. The only substance that can be pumped is the water of the Emory River; yet the writer does not mention the word “water." It is up to the reader to read it into the sentence, to see it between the lines, and to clean up the muddy mess-age.
One citizen, who directly is affected by this disaster, says that he wants “to plant a garden. I’m concerned about it getting in the soil.” “It” can here only refer to the antecedent “garden,” yet that’s clearly not what the aspiring gardener implies, who is concerned about the spillage polluting the ground ("In Aftermath of A Spill, A New Round of Challenges" NYT 3/7).
Newspapers are full of such disasters. (Pun intended.) The earthquakes in Haiti and Chile are just the most recent ones, and since time immemorial, disasters are accompanied by looting. For example, “In 1911, Sicilians dodged lava flowing out of Mount Etna to loot homes abandoned in its path.” Whose paths? Although the closest antecedent would be Mount Etna, the reader correctly assumes that the pronoun refers to “lava” ("The Rough Morality of Up-For-Grabs" NYT 3/7). Again, the reader must do the writer’s job and clarify the connection.
Dodging blow-ups and spills is probably routine for a president’s political advisor. “David Axelrod is often at the president’s side; he sits in on policy and national security meetings and is routinely the last person he talks to before making a decision” ("The White House Message Maven" NYT 3/7). While “He sits in… meetings” clearly refers to Axelrod, “the last person he talks to before making a decision” must be the president. Again, the reader simply uses his (or her) common sense to get a message whose rendering is incorrect and fuzzy.


A pronoun should refer clearly to one, definite noun.
This noun, coming before the pronoun, is called the pronoun’s antecedent.
Take the car out of the garage and clean it. What needs to be cleaned? The garage? Most likely, if the sentence was spoken in California. The car? Just as seemly a guess.
When the party finally reached an agreement, it was in tatters. Was the party in tatters or the agreement?

A pronoun should not refer to an implied idea.
When the antecedent is implied instead of explicitly stated, the reader has to guess the sentence's meaning:
Pearl S. Buck received much critical praise and earned over $7 million, but she was very modest about it. She was probably modest about her success.

The antecedent should not be remote.
In Euripides’ Medea, he describes the plight of a woman rejected by her husband. It is much clearer to say that "In Medea, Euripides describes the plight of a woman rejected by her husband."

Winter of discontent

Like a veritable Logo-calypse, loaded words and phrases were coming down together with the snow in reports about the blizzard that pulverized the region (Wash.Times). Although this Snowmageddon still has a long road ahead of it with several major cities picking up large amounts of snow (The Weather Channel), it already left a wake of damage (CBS). The storm even canceled flights in several cities (CNN), with wind gusts creating nearwhite conditions (The Weather Channel). Halfway across the chasm [sic] of winter, the storm charged over the Appalachians (NYT) as this was becoming an increasingly dangerous winter storm forecast complete with high snowfall rates and blinding snow. (The Weather Channel).
Some journalists, maybe in an attempt to fight off the bitter cold, obviously went into overdrive, some slipped badly, and some simply lost sight of where they were going.
The NYT reported that “downed trees and power lines blocked the Capitol Limited, stranding and infuriating passengers" (NYT). For support, a train passenger is quoted saying, “Nobody can do anything about the weather, but be truthful, keep us informed.” Although the first sentence suggests otherwise, what infuriated the passengers were not the downed trees and power lines but rather the Amtrak’s officials who neglected to tell the travelers that their snowbound train wasn’t going to go anywhere soon.
After fifteen hours of waiting, another passenger complained that “No one’s cleaned up the bathrooms, and I’m worried about the germs my kids could get.” But “Amtrak reached out to a local Kentucky Fried Chicken restaurant.” Were its employees coming by to clean the bathrooms? Far from it. They “supplied dinner for the passengers,” most likely only making the bathroom problem worse.
Then, in a blizzard of information, the fact that “The National Guard was deployed to assist the police and people trapped on roads” precedes but seems to be in no way connected to the story of “a father and son, who had stopped on I 81 [in Virginia] to help a motorist [and] were killed Friday when a tractor-trailer struck them.” The National Guard and all its efforts disappeared without a word from the scene – probably snowed under.
If ideas do not smoothly merge into one another, connect logically and thus allow the reader to follow a clearly paved path, an article quickly resembles a giant snowball fight with the reader’s head as the pitiable target.
Transitional tags can help organize ideas and establish a relationship, such as, e.g., the conjunction while to emphasize the difference between two ideas: Most roads were closed while trains still operated.
Timely enough, Thomas Friedman sent a postcard from some warmer region, reporting that in Yemen, “more than 70% of government income comes from dwindling oil exports, while 70% of Yemenis are illiterate and 15% of kids are not in school.” The connection - or difference - between the dwindling oil resources and illiteracy – if it exists – remains for the reader to figure out.
Worse than making no connections and leaving the reader stranded in the middle of nowhere is making false connections that insult one’s logic. New Albany Citizens campaigned in favor of finally making it legal to buy a bottle of beer. They argued that “the city, whose population is about 8,000, would never grow without restaurants, and nice restaurants would never arrive if they could not serve alcohol.” Their opponents, not seeing the logical fallacy (post hoc, ergo propter hoc = questionable cause-effect relationship) in this argument, paid them back in their own coin, calling this “a bunch of baloney” since other cities do allow alcohol but “are not exactly flourishing” either. Another New Albany citizen would say that this rebuttal is “Pointless... like giving caviar to an elephant” (W. Faulkner) because the teetotalers falsely assume that because two things occur together, they must be causally related; correlation, however, is possible without causation.
Really insulting, though, is a writer who expects the reader to swallow a red herring, used to throw hunting dogs off the trail of the prey – or unsuspecting readers off the real issue. “Record snowfall illustrates the obvious: The global warming fraud is without equal in modern science” (Wash. Times). That one area of the U.S. has been blanketed with snow is not evidence to support such a sweeping conclusion, and to welcome the recent Snopocalypse as proof that we don't have to rethink the way we live now is nothing but a snow job.

Here is a list of some useful transitional words:

to add: again, also, and, and then, besides, equally important, finally, first, further, furthermore, in addition, in the first place, last, moreover, next, second, still, too
to compare: also, in the same way, likewise, similarly
to make a concession: granted, naturally, of course
to contrast: although, and yet, at the same time, but at the same time, despite that, even so, even though, for all that, however, in contrast, in spite of, instead, nevertheless, notwithstanding, on the contrary, on the other hand, otherwise, regardless, still, though, yet
to emphasize: certainly, indeed, in fact, of course
to exemplify or illustrate: after all, as an illustration, even, for example, for instance, in conclusion, indeed, in fact, in other words, in short, it is true, of course, namely, specifically, that is, to illustrate, thus, truly
to sum up: all in all, altogether, as has been said, finally, in brief, in conclusion, in other words, in particular, in short, in simpler terms, in summary, on the whole, that is, therefore, to put it differently, to summarize
to indicate time sequence: after a while, afterward, again, also, and then, as long as, at last, at length, at that time, before, besides, earlier, eventually, finally, formerly, further, furthermore, in addition, in the first place, in the past, last, lately, meanwhile, moreover, next, now, presently, second, shortly, simultaneously, since, so far, soon, still, subsequently, then, thereafter, too, until, until now, when

To avoid excessive usage of transitional tags, consider
• to refer to the main idea of the previous paragraph and begin the next one with a reference to this topic: insult one's logic → Really insulting
• repeating key words in each paragraph that help the reader to see the connection: The connection - or difference - between the... → Worse than making no connection ...

Me First!

"For words, like Nature, half reveal
And half conceal the Soul within"
(Alfred Lord Tennyson).



A new field of psychology, called ecopsychology, addresses anxiety and other mental maladies that are directly related to the rather common loss of our innate ecological instincts and consequently to our dysfunctional relationship with nature. Because humans for so long have believed in the dualism of mind and body, which presumably allows us to destroy nature without harming our mind, we live according to the premise "what interests me is me" and proportionally have disconnected ourselves from others and the world around us.

“You decide that you want to get rid of the byproducts of human life and that Lake Erie will be a good place to put them. You forget that the ecomental system called Lake Erie is a part of your wider ecomental system — and that if Lake Erie is driven insane, its insanity is incorporated in the larger system of your thought and experience.” Our inability to see this truth, Bateson maintained, was becoming monstrously apparent. Human consciousness evolved to privilege “purposiveness” — to get us what we want, whether what we want is a steak dinner or sex. Expand that tendency on a mass scale, and it is inevitable that you’re going to see some disturbing effects: red tides, vanishing forests, smog, global warming. “There is an ecology of bad ideas, just as there is an ecology of weeds,” Bateson wrote, “and it is characteristic of the system that basic error propagates itself.”

This basic error indeed propagates itself and grows like weed in our daily lives and in our language. As Jean Twenge in her book Generation Me points out, books and TV shows that revolve around the self have been blanketing the nation for many years. As a consequence, self-reference words (I, me, mine, myself) have proliferated, however at the cost of collective words (humanity, country, community etc). Twenge quotes Britney Spears saying in 2004 that her priorities are “Myself, my husband, and starting a family.” Not only does none of the three listed items in any way refer to anything outside Spears’ own individual life, she also begins her list with herself before she remembers her partner and her hypothetical future children. Until not too long ago, it was considered very impolite to mention oneself first. It was proper to say that “Michael and I are going out tonight.” Today, it is more likely to hear that “I and Michael are going out.” As Twenge reminds us, such manifestation of a change in mores should not come as a surprise after years of schools concentrating on students’ self-esteem and their self-esteem only. After all, there is no need to improve when one has “worthy and good inner essence… [that deserves] recognition and attention from others;” and there is no need to heed others when the “individual needs should be considered first and foremost” (65).
"A single word often betrays a great design," Jean Baptiste Racine believed. Thus, language is nothing more and nothing less than an expression of the way we think. Putting ourselves first and ignoring our ecological and social instincts ad perpetuum will destroy the planet because it will have destroyed our mind. Many already may feel solastalgia, a pain over the realization that what we call home (and this includes environment and language) is seriously endangered. Will we understand that without changing our attitude towards the outside (and the way we express this attitude) we will not feel much better inside?

Dan's Dangling Diction

“Sophie gave the misplaced intercom an odd look.” Well, if the intercom at the entrance of a gated estate is placed on the right-hand side, it’s worth an odd look. Robert Langdon, however, is not surprised at all. He “had already been through that with Teabing [who] prefers things the way they are at home” (Da Vinci Code 220). Dan Brown also prefers things a certain way although it’s not always the right way.
Having passed the ominous gate, Sophie muses that “It was a relief to be off the road, and she could think of few safer places to get their feet under them than this private, gated estate”¹(223). Never mind that Sophie and Langdon are NOT in search of their final resting place.
Already their drive to this presumably safe haven had been a remarkable one. “Even at a modest sixty kilometers an hour, the dangling front bumper of the armored truck grated against the deserted suburban road”²(213). Well the bumper may dangle as much as it likes, but it is not driving at sixty kilometers an hour. It is Langdon who cruises along at such a moderate pace but has suddenly second thoughts about this venture. “Accompanying the gravity of being a hunted man, Langdon was starting to feel the ponderous weight of responsibility”³(214). Notwithstanding his geniality, it is hard to imagine Langdon accompanying the gravity of being a hunted man. Even so, we should not forget that Langdon is driven by intuition rather than rationality, and “Considering the information potentially enclosed, the instinct was probably a good one”⁴(214). His instinct considering information is quite some double-think - or no-think, for that matter.
Meanwhile, Langdon’s archenemy, Bishop Aringarosa, is thinking, too. Or is he? “Now, seated in the Fiat, [he] realized his fists were clenched just thinking about that first meeting”⁵(151). A man of God may have divine powers, but that his fists are able you think about a meeting is rather astonishing. Yet, his accomplice Silas seems rather other-worldly as well when “He lunged, lashing out with the candle stand like a club”⁶(136).
A few chapters earlier, Sophie, Langdon’s sparring partner, visited her grandfather’s apparently deserted house. “Turning now and scanning the living room, Sophie’s eyes fell on the only object in the entire house that seemed out of place – her grandfather’s favorite antique, a sprawling Aubusson tapestry”⁷(142). Sophie’s eyes indeed may be scanning the room, but how can they be turning? Qual'occhio al mondo può star di paro all'occhio tuo?
As it behooves a thriller, all our musings are interrupted by a gunshot. “At the bottom of the driveway, Collet heard the gunshot”⁸(277). Whether Collet heard the shot while standing at the bottom of the driveway or the gunshot was fired at the bottom of the driveway remains a riddle to be solved by the reader.
But no fear; nothing can kill Langdon. Not even a Louvre guard had dared to kill him because “killing Langdon would be a generous fate compared to the misery about to be communicated by Bezu Fache and the French prison system”⁹(130). Killing him early on, the guard, however, would indeed have performed a generous deed and saved the author some embarrassment. But why should Dan Brown care that despite his unquestionable success his writing style has become the object of ridicule? After all, “Only those with a keen eye would notice [Aringarosa’s] 14-karat gold bishop's ring with purple amethyst, large diamonds, and hand-tooled mitre-crozier appliqué” (28). One, however, does not need a keen eye to detect that Brown’s syntax is precariously fuzzy.


A modifier dangles when it does not clearly connect to the subject of the following clause, the "modifiee." For example, a participle phrase (Dropped in the bushes,...) at the beginning of a sentence must provide information about the subject of the following clause (...the child found the missing keys), otherwise it is dangling. Since the subject in the example sentence is "the child," the participle phrase beginning the sentence would suggest the child's tragic downfall while in fact the sentence tries to say that the child found the missing keys in the bushes.
Modifiers such as adverbs and adjectives need to be placed as close as possible to the modified word or phrase. That "he likes extremely spicy curries" leaves us in the dark. Does he like them extremely, or does he like them extremely spicy? More here .

1) It was a relief to be off the road, and she could think of few safer places to get their feet under them than this private, gated estate = misplaced modifier: few safer places to get under their feet than this private, gated estate
2) Even at a modest sixty kilometers an hour, the dangling front bumper of the armored truck grated against the deserted suburban road = dangling modifier: The dangling front bumper, even though the armored truck made only a modest sixty kilometers an hour, grated against the deserted suburban road.
3) Accompanying the gravity of being a hunted man, Langdon was starting to feel the ponderous weight of responsibility = dangling modifier: Langdon, already feeling the gravity of being a hunted man, was starting to sense the ponderous weight of responsibility.
4) Considering the information potentially enclosed, the instinct was probably a good one = dangling modifier: Considering the information potentially enclosed, he realized that his instinct was probably a good one.
5) [Aringarosa,] now seated in the Fiat, realized his fists were clenched just thinking about that first meeting = dangling modifier: Aringarosa, now seated in the Fiat and thinking about that first meeting, realized his fists were clenched.
6) He lunged, lashing out with the candle stand like a club = faulty comparison: He lunged, thrashing the candle stand like a club.
7) Turning now and scanning the living room, Sophie’s eyes fell on the only object in the entire house that seemed out of place – her grandfather’s favorite antique, a sprawling Aubusson tapestry = dangling modifier: Turning now and scanning the living room, Sophie noticed the only object in the entire house that seemed out of place – her grandfather’s favorite antique, a sprawling Aubusson tapestry.
8) At the bottom of the driveway, Collet heard the gunshot = tangled syntax: Standing at the bottom of the driveway, Collet heard the gunshot.
9) Killing Langdon would be a generous fate compared to the misery about to be communicated by Bezu Fache and the French prison system = dangling modifier: Being killed would be too generous a fate for Langdon compared to the misery awaiting him in a French prison.

Head-on

Multitasking, or performing two parallel activities, is dangerous. While walking and chewing gum may be a snap, walking while talking on the phone or even texting can be a snag because the combination of “a pedestrian, an electronic device and an unseen crack in the sidewalk, the pole of a stop sign, a toy left on the living room floor or a parked (or sometimes moving) car” leads to distracted walking. The problems this can cause are easy to imagine. The problem with this sentence may be less conspicuous, yet all items in a list should be not only grammatically but also logically parallel. The toy on the living room floor ditched between a stop sign and a car does not make logical sense. To call attention to the fact that the dangers of multitasking are not limited to crowded streets but may also be lurking at home, the list should move from the outside to the inside: “a pedestrian, an electronic device and an unseen crack in the sidewalk, the pole of a stop sign, a parked (or sometimes moving) car, or even a toy left on the living room floor or a vacuum cleaner in the hallway.” However, a pedestrian would not stumble over a toy in the living room but a person would.

Fortunately, “Most times, the mishaps for a distracted walker are minor, like a lightly dinged head and broken fingernail, a jammed digit or a sprained ankle.” Again, the “jammed digit” has no connection to the physical injuries listed before and after it. “A lightly dinged head, a broken fingernail, and a sprained ankle, or a jammed digit on the pedestrian’s cell phone” joins the links of this chain more coherently.

According to a study, about 50% of those phone accidents involve young people. Yet the older and allegedly wiser are not invulnerable either. “A 68-year-old man fell off a porch while talking on a cell-phone, spraining a thumb and an ankle and causing dizziness.” “Spraining” and “causing” looks good. They are both present tense participles and thus seem to form a parallel structure. However, the sentence does not make much sense. The man was spraining a thumb and causing dizziness? What caused the dizziness was the fall and the pain from the sprained thumb. It is, therefore, more likely that the “68-year-old man fell off a porch while talking on a cell-phone, spraining a thumb and an ankle which caused dizziness.” Like pedestrians using cell-phones, the distracted writer fell prey to inattention blindness and smashed against a dangling modifier. He did not suffer any injuries, except – maybe – to his pride.

Cut the clutter

Newspaper articles are too long. This is Michael Kinsley’s argument in his article “Cut This Story!” published in the Jan/Feb. edition of The Atlantic. Newspapers should tell a story and cut excessive context information that does not add anything except “unnecessary verbiage.” Kinsley does have a point here. Writing does benefit from cutting out the clutter. Let’s just assume the following passage from “Cut This Story!” were not mere parody:

“People have to look at the sizable gains that have been made since stock and options were granted last year, and the fact is this was, in many ways, a windfall,” said Jesse M. Brill, the chairman of CompensationStandards.com, a trade publication. “This had nothing to do with people’s performance. These were granted at market lows.”
Those are 56 words spent allowing Jesse M. Brill to restate the author’s point. Yet I, for one, have never heard of Jesse M. Brill before. He may be a fine fellow. But I have no particular reason to trust him, and he has no particular reason to need my trust. The New York Times, on the other hand, does need my trust, or it is out of business. So it has a strong incentive to earn my trust every day (which it does, with rare and historic exceptions). But instead of asking me to trust it and its reporter about the thesis of this piece, The New York Times asks me to trust this person I have never heard of, Jesse M. Brill.
Of course this attempt to pass the hot potato to a total stranger doesn’t work, because before I can trust Jesse M. Brill about the thesis of the piece, I have to trust The New York Times that this Jesse M. Brill person is trustworthy, and the article under examination devotes many words to telling me who he is so that I will trust him. (By contrast, it tells me nothing about the reporter.) Why not cut out the middleman? The reason to trust this story, if you choose to do so, is that it is in The New York Times. What Jesse M. Brill may think adds nothing. Yet he is only one of several experts quoted throughout, basically telling the story all over again.

This is too long indeed. The reader has long understood that Mr. Kinsley trusts the NYT but sees no need to trust any unheard-of “expert.” Yet, do we need to know that the author trusts the NYT “with rare and historic exceptions”? Do we really care whether Mr. Brill is “a fine fellow”? Do we need to be told twice (or even trice if we count the phrase “a total stranger”) that Mr. Kinsley does not know Mr. Brill? And does it even make any difference who this stranger is since Mr. Kinsley’s point here is to call into question experts who are simply quoted “to restate the author’s point” and make an article sound more trustworthy? No, and it’s all clutter waiting to be cut:

I have no particular reason to trust Jesse M. Brill. The New York Times, on the other hand, has a strong incentive to earn my trust every day or it is out of business. But instead of asking me to trust it and its reporter, The New York Times asks me to trust Jesse M. Brill.
Of course this attempt to pass the hot potato to a total stranger doesn’t work, because before I can trust Jesse M. Brill’s opinion, I have to trust The New York Times that this Jesse M. Brill person is trustworthy; hence the article devotes 56 words to telling me who he is so that I will trust him. The reason to trust this story, if you choose to do so, is that it is in The New York Times. What Jesse M. Brill may think adds nothing. So, cut him and all the other experts quoted who do nothing but tell the same story all over again and only restate the author’s point.

These 169 words (instead of 250) convey precisely the same message and still allow for playing with the word “trust” if one wishes to do so.
Michael Kinsley ends his article cautioning writers against the “lure of closure – some form of summing-up or leave taking. Often this is a quote that repeats the central point one last time, perhaps combining it with some rueful irony about the limits of human agency.” Good point. Conclusions are for many writers a pain in the back because when they arrive there, they feel they already have said everything they wanted to say. So, how does Michael Kinsley close?

On the first day of my first real job in journalism—on the copy desk at the Royal Oak Daily Tribune in Royal Oak, Michigan—the chief copy editor said, “Remember, every word you cut saves the publisher money.” At the time, saving the publisher money didn’t strike me as the world’s noblest ideal. These days, for anyone in journalism, it’s more compelling.

He closes with a quote by some total stranger, whom I don’t feel any need to trust, and a stuffy reminder how times have changed. Right! Just cut it!


Here are a few tips – without any claim to be complete – how to trim the fat from everyday writing:

Avoid Tautologies

Tautologies are pairs of synonymous words. A moment is brief by nature, and we need just a moment to understand this. The reason that tautologies should be avoided is not because they are redundant. Tautologies simply should be avoided because they are redundant.


Some Adjective/noun combinations are like little roundabouts.


o close proximity
o final completion, final outcome
o free gift
o added bonus
o foreign imports
o frozen ice
o honest truth
o knowledgeable expert
o original source
o usual custom
o advanced planning
o surrounding circumstances
o future plans

Double adjective often belabor the obvious,
o pure unadulterated truth
o frank and honest exchange

and so do some adjective/ adverb or adverb / verb twosomes.
o exactly identical
o entirely eliminate

Double nouns : Never mind, but consensus , e.g., already means being of the same mind
o consensus of opinion
o cash money
o end result
o PIN number (LAN network, estimated ETA, RSVP please)

One conjunctions is plenty.
o and also / and as well
o but however

Tautological pairs just "overexaggerate,"
o each and every
o one and the same
o at about
o full and complete
o few in number
o the reason ... because

and tautological verbs overshoot the mark.
o overexaggerate
o may possibly
o ask the question
o look back in retrospect / refer back
o protrude out
o rise up
o dash quickly
o plan ahead
o circle round
o continue on
o postpone until later
o unite (join, link) together

Avoid empty phrases

• All things considered
• As a matter of fact
• As far as I'm concerned
• because of the fact that
• by means of / by virtue of the fact
• for all intents and purposes
• in a manner of speaking
• In a very real sense
• In the case / in the event
• Something in the nature of
• The point I am trying to make / What I mean to say is that

Avoiding Expletive Constructions
No, expletive constructions are nothing risqué. Expletive constructions are those sentences that begin with there is/are or it is.

There are many tautologies that can make a sentence sound silly. It is these pairs of synonymous words that need to be avoided.
Tautologies, pairs of synonymous words, can make a sentence sound silly and should be avoided.
There is a flock of pigeons that lives in my attic, fluttering around like some obstreperous thoughts in my mind.
The flock of pigeons that lives in my attic flutters around like some obstreperous thoughts in my mind.

Avoid Wordiness

Wordy: The future to come is fully and completely unknown.
Concise: The future is unknown.
Wordy: His discovery was a tremendous breakthrough in the field of economics.
Concise: His discovery was a breakthrough in economics.
Wordy: The politician talked about several of the merits of the new health-care plan.
Concise: The politician praised the health-care plan.

Use the verb instead of a weak noun phrase

Her doll was a lot of comfort to the child when she was afraid at night.
Her doll comforted the child when she was afraid at night.

Jeanny believed but could not confirm that Sam had feelings of affection for her.
Jeanny assumed that Sam liked her.

This dessert has a tendency to collapse when overbaked.
This dessert tends to collapse when overbaked.

I will make a copy of this document.
I will copy this document.

Failed to connect the dots

Sharp and sarcastic as usual, Maureen Dowd commented last week on the president’s statement that Christmas Day’s almost-disaster was not due to “a failure to collect or share intelligence,” but rather to “a failure to connect and understand the intelligence that we already had.” She wonders why everybody was so surprised by the perpetrator’s Yemeni nationality and expresses this in the following paragraph/sentence:
“Even though Russ Feingold, who is on the Senate Intelligence Committee, has been pointing out since 2002 that we need to focus on Yemen — ‘It’s the ancestral home of Osama bin Laden and the place where Al Qaeda blew up the U.S.S. Cole and we lost 17 people,’ he impatiently notes — the president said that the intelligence community was caught off guard by the attack planned by the Qaeda affiliate in Yemen, even though ‘we knew that they sought to strike the United States, and that they were recruiting operatives to do so.’”
To understand the intelligence conveyed here requires a second (third?) reading – or an intelligence analyst – because the interposed, rather lengthy quote makes it unnecessarily difficult for the reader to connect the information. Less collecting would allow for clearer intelligence. Moreover, the entire sentence becomes so long that the writer easily loses control. Since the sentence begins with even though, another even though clause cannot be tagged on. Not throwing "dots at us like 3-D asteroids" would help avoiding inner disconnection: Russ Feingold, who is on the Senate Intelligence Committee, has been pointing out since 2002 that we need to focus on Yemen. “It’s the ancestral home of Osama bin Laden and the place where Al Qaeda blew up the U.S.S. Cole and we lost 17 people,” he impatiently notes. Nevertheless, the president said that the intelligence community was caught off guard by the attack planned by the Qaeda affiliate in Yemen, even though “we knew that they sought to strike the United States, and that they were recruiting operatives to do so.”
Terrorism is scary, maybe because most of us can hardly understand what can lead a person to believe that anything is worth it to blow up himself and dozens or hundreds of others. In a highly interesting article about “The Terrorist Mind”, Sarah Kershaw explains that “Paradoxically, anxiety about death plays a significant role in the indoctrination of terrorists and suicide bombers – unconscious fear of mortality, of leaving no legacy, according to a new research.” Not only is the phrase “according to a new research” tagged on helter-skelter but also the explanation of the terrorists’ death anxiety unnecessarily far removed from the phenomenon it attempts to define. A reader will easily fail to understand a sentence when related information or thoughts are not kept together but interrupted by phrases or clauses. It would be much safer to organize the points top to bottom: According to a new research, a significant factor in the indoctrination of terrorists and suicide bombers is, paradoxically, anxiety about death – an unconscious fear of mortality, of leaving no legacy.
Kershaw also points out that people like Ted Kaczynski are an exception because only very few terrorists act alone. “The Unabomber was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia, while most terrorist groups weed out the mentally unstable, experts say; they even prefer to select those with higher status for the suicide missions, in the belief that sending those with the most to lose will raise the credibility of their cause.” The two sentences connected here with a semicolon concern two very different concepts, one being a particular person’s mental disorder, the other being a typical terrorist’s status in a group. These two ideas should be clearly separated by a period. Far more confusing, however, is the first part of this quote. While functions to show a difference between two situations, but the Unabomber being diagnosed with some mental condition cannot be compared to groups weeding out the mentally ill. The information about those groups’ preference for mentally stable members should be connected to the second sentence instead: The Unabomber was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. Most terrorist groups, however, weed out the mentally unstable, experts say. They even prefer to select those with higher status for the suicide missions, in the belief that sending those with the most to lose will raise the credibility of their cause.
Kershaw then refers to a play by Albert Camus to explain the moral dilemmas a terrorist might face. Camus’s The Just “tells the true story of the assassination by a revolutionary group in 1905 of a grand duke in Russia.” The assassination and its victim here are placed at two different ends, which - although it would have been of utter advantage for the grand duke - makes this statement simply hard to read. What belongs together should be together: It tells the true story of the 1905 assassination of a grand duke in Russia by a revolutionary group.

If words and information are properly connected, the risks that “The intelligence fell through the cracks” (John Brennan, deputy national security adviser) are much slimmer.

An other tea party

Henry James's description of Mr. Touchett's estate ows much of its beauty to the masterly use of parallel structure.

"Under certain circumstances there are few hours in life more agreeable than the hour dedicated to the ceremony known as afternoon tea. There are circumstances in which, whether you partake of the tea or not — some people of course never do — the situation is in itself delightful. … The implements of the little feast had been disposed upon the lawn of an old English country house in what I should call the perfect middle of a splendid summer afternoon. Part of the afternoon had waned, but much of it was left, and what was left was of the finest and rarest quality. Real dusk would not arrive for many hours; but the flood of summer light had begun to ebb, the air had grown mellow, the shadows were long upon the smooth, dense turf…. The house that rose beyond the lawn was a structure to repay such consideration and was the most characteristic object in the peculiar English picture I have attempted to sketch...

The house had a name and a history; the old gentleman taking his tea would have been delighted to tell you these things: how it had been built under Edward the Sixth, had offered a night’s hospitality to the great Elizabeth (whose august person had extended itself upon a huge, magnificent, and terribly angular bed which still formed the principal honour of the sleeping apartments), had been a good deal bruised and defaced in Cromwell’s wars, and then, under the Restoration, repaired and much enlarged; and how, finally, after having been remodelled and disfigured in the eighteenth century, it had passed into the careful keeping of a shrewd American banker, who had bought it originally because (owing to circumstances too complicated to set forth) it was offered at a great bargain; bought it with much grumbling at its ugliness, its antiquity, its incommodity, and who now, at the end of twenty years, had become conscious of a real aesthetic passion for it, so that he knew all its points, and would tell you just where to stand to see them in combination, and just the hour when the shadows of its various protuberances—which fell so softly upon the warm, weary brickwork—were of the right measure." (Henry James, The Portrait of a Lady)

The beauty of parallels

The two red lines are both straight and parallel to each other. That the lines look as if they were bent is a result of the lined pattern in the background that creates a false impression of depth.


In the natural world, seemingly disjunct or opposing forces such as dark and light, female and male, low and high are interconnected and interdependent. They are complementary opposites within a greater whole, move in tandem and maintain a parallel relationship. Whenever one quality reaches its peak it will naturally begin to transform into the opposite quality.

The Roman statesman, philosopher and mathematician, Boethius (480-524 A.D.) explained that the soul and the body are subject to the same laws of proportion that govern music and the cosmos itself. We are happiest when we conform to these laws because "we love similarity, but hate and resent dissimilarity". (De Institutione Musica, 1,1. from Umberto Eco, Art and Beauty in the Middle Ages. p. 31).


Harry Reid recently got into trouble because of his choice of words. A NYT article reports that the Senator from Nevada encouraged B. Obama to run for president because Reid “believed the country would accept Mr. Obama, whose father was black and mother was white.” Surely, we are used not only to politicians who make incoherent statements and maybe bend the truth but also to journalists who add injury to insult. In an ideal world, both good politics and a good sentence require a balance. Unlike before and after a political campaign, however, in a sentence the words before and after and must carry the same "weight" and be congruent. Thus, Mr. Reid endorsed Mr. Obama, whose father was black and whose mother was white.

The NYT reporter continues to compare Mr. Reid’s lapse with Trent Lott’s politically incorrect remarks of 2002. According to the NYT, “In contrast to Mr. Reid’s endorsement of a black candidate, Mr. Lott appeared to endorse the long-past segregationist candidacy of Strom Thurmond” (1/10/10). Because one part of a sentence can be balanced only by another one of the same kind, it is stylistically faulty to compare Mr. Reid’s endorsement (a noun phrase) to Mr. Lott who appeared to endorse (a verb phrase) somebody else. Just like so often in politics, this statement starts out one way and then switches tactics midstream. Someone's endorsement is compared to someone else. Yet, unlike politics grammar asks for consistency and hence the well-balanced information that while Mr. Reid endorsed a black candidate, Mr. Lott appeared to endorse the long-past segregationist candidacy of Strom Thurmond. In contrast to the two senators, the two parts of this sentence move in tandem, although their content is still quite startling. One wonders not only how even somebody like Trent Lott can endorse a “the long-past segregationist candidacy” but also why anybody would want to endorse something “long-past” in the first place. What is “long-past” anyway?

The time of segregation is indeed long past, yet Mike Huckabee seems as eager to play the race card as Harry Reid wishes to drop it. Referring to Marco Rubio, Speaker of the Florida House of Representatives, Huckabee says that “his race has become a real classical encounter between whether the party is going to be a let’s-be-all-things-to-all-people party or whether we’re going to be a principled conservative party that espouses things out of genuine conviction.” Whether you like it or not, whether is a conjunction indicating a choice and is followed by or. Therefore, the question (or choice) is whether the party is going to be a let’s-be-all-things-to-all-people party or a principled conservative party that espouses things out of genuine conviction. Whether or not this is in any way connected to a candidate’s race is a completely different question.

Examples of parallelism errors from Grammatically Correct by Anne Stilman and how to fix them:

He had always preferred talking to listening, and to give rather than to take advice.
He had always preferred talking to listening, and to give rather than to take advice.
(The list now consists of four gerunds instead of a mix of gerunds and infinitives)

The lecture was long, a bore and uninspiring.
The lecture was long, boring and uninspiring. (Adjective – Adjective – Adjective)

She told him to get to the hotel by six o’clock, that he should check with the concierge for messages, leave his luggage at the front desk and to wait for her in the lobby.
She told him to get to the hotel by six o’clock, (to) check with the concierge for messages, (to) leave his luggage at the front desk and (to) wait for her in the lobby. (The same wording – here an infinitive – must be used for each element in a list. The word to can be used either before each element or only before the first.)

The consultant objected to the proposal because the costs would be too high and that the training facilities were insufficient.
The consultant objected to the proposal because the costs were too high and the training facilities insufficient.


Parallel structure with paired conjunctions (either … or, not only … but also, both … and, whether … or, as … as):

Customers may either pick up the merchandise themselves, or the company will deliver it for a small fee. (The placement of either suggests that the customer has a choice, but then the sentence switches to a different subject, the company.)
Customers may either pick up the merchandise themselves or have it delivered for a small fee.

I or me, oh my!

My Cat, My Pie, and I

Just watch my¹ cat and me² when we debate
whose pie it is there on my plate.

I may believe it’s mine³. Alas,
she knows what’s mine is hers.

My husband stares at us, my cat and me⁴,
and wants me⁵ to resist her piteous plea.

Of course, it all depends on me⁶,
because it's I⁷ who should have sway.

But we, my cat and I⁸, know whom I will obey
and do agree that she is mightier than I⁹.

And I do know myself¹⁰ and know the rule:
It will be she who wins and I who is the fool.¹¹

But she and I¹², we shroud all this in secrecy,
a private matter - between just her and me¹³.

Nobody else but she and I¹⁴ will grasp
who ate the cream with quite some zest:

Not I but she¹⁵ – who won’t confess.
So, hush! It wasn’t I¹⁶ who told you this.




1) My is the possessive form of I when it is followed by a noun.
2) Me is the object form of I. Somebody (subject) shall watch my cat and me (object).
3) Mine is the possessive form of I when it is NOT followed by a noun.
4) The cat and I are the object at which the husband stares. Moreover, a preposition (at) always requires the object form me.
5) Between a verb (want) and an infinitive (to resist), the object form me is needed.
6) After a preposition (here on) follows the object form me .
7) After linking verbs (be, seem, appear, become), the subject form I is required. Linking verbs link the subject (here it) to its modifier (here I) that describes the subject.
8) "my cat and I" is an appositive phrase explaining the subject (we) and must therefore also be in subject form.
9) She is mightier than I am.
10) Myself is the reflexive form of I. A sentence like "I cut myself" means that the subject (I) is affected by its action (to cut). When "I cut the meat," the cutting does not affect myself.
11) Another example of the personal pronoun after a linking verb: Subject (it), linking verb (will be), modifiers (she who wins/I who is the fool).
12) Appositive phrase preceding the subject (we)
13) Object form after preposition (between)
14) "She and I" are the subjects who will grasp what's going on.
15) Not I ate the cream but she did.
16) Another example of the subject form after a linking verb

The infamous “you”

The “red scare” of the seventeenth century were – the Quakers because they insisted on addressing everybody equally as thou and refused to use the then more respectful you for individuals of higher rank. Relics of this old respectful you are even today common in very formal salutations such as “Your Majesty,” “Your Highness” or “Your Grace.” While for example the French, despite their revolution against the aristocracy and for liberté, egalité, and fraternité, still make this clear distinction between formal and informal greeting, modern English speakers have all turned Quaker. We use you for everybody, from our family members to the president. Malcolm Gladwell considers this a unique benefit of the English language since it diminishes power-distance. He illustrates this with the story of the jinxed Korean Airline. The American consultant in charge of restructuring this ailing airline required those who “wanted to remain a pilot at the company … to be fluent in” English because “in English, they would be free of the sharply defined gradients of Korean hierarchy.” According to Gladwell, the story of KA “is an extraordinarily liberating example” of “making successes out of the unsuccessful” by taking “them out of their culture and re-norm them” (Outliers 219-220).

One may question whether “re-norming” is liberating or conforming. One may at the same time contest that the French are more polite simply because they have a formal way of addressing a stranger or an authority. Yet, even in English you is appropriate in formal writing only when giving directions or advice. Beyond that, writers should avoid this pronoun because it may pique the reader. A writer, for example, may explain subprime loans and the advantage of their lower initial interest rate. However, she then declares that your initial advantage only lured you into a dangerously risky financial situation because the inevitable annual adjustments will cost you in the end much more than a traditional loan. Using you, the writer forces the reader to identify with the subprime borrower, something not everybody may appreciate.

I am not you

The author of the NYT times article “Floating In the Digital Experience” (1/3/10) Manohla Dargis explains how “Avatar” has brought back the social experience of watching a movie together “after a decade when watching movies became an increasingly solitary affair, something between you and your laptop.” The reader rightfully may refuse to be depicted as one who watches movies cloistered in her bedroom. It is also an assumption that “Avatar” “forces you to remain attentively in your seat … and locks you in tightly.” What if it didn’t? What if the reader is just this one person who left the theater in the middle of the movie?

Using you in writing implies assumptions about the reader. However, when it is haphazardly mixed with we and I, the writer either lacks grammatical awareness or overindulges in poetic license for effect, however now clearly forces the reader to identify not only with the imaginary “you” but also with the author herself. “We now live in a world of the 24-Hour Movie, one that plays anytime and anywhere you want (and sometimes whether you want it to or not). It’s a movie we can access at home by pressing a few buttons on the remote (and agreeing to pay more for it than you might at the local video store).” WE agree to pay more than YOU might at Blockbusters? Watching “The Dark Knight,” Manohla Dargis felt “that I was at the very edge of the screen. ‘Avatar’ … blurs that edge, closing the space between you and the screen even more.” I/Manohla was on the edge of the screen, but 3D technology sucks YOU/the reader into it? “Mr. Cameron seems to want to invite you into the digital world he has created even if, like a film director, he wants to determine your route.” Yes, a movie director’s goal clearly is to capture the viewer and lead her along a path she herself might not have chosen, but a movie critic should refrain from directing. Even though movie aficionados certainly have a lot in common, they also have their individual preferences. Not everyone who is a movie enthusiast must necessarily be enthused by “Avatar.” Which brings us back to the initial discussion of respect. In spoken English, you may have a democratizing capacity, but in writing it blurs the line between the writer's and the reader's opinion.
Anyway, whoever yearns for a solitary affair with his or her laptop might want to check out this documentary: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0492506/

Running on and on and on

There's not much to be said about the period except that most people don't reach it soon enough. (William Zinsser)

Yes because he never did a thing like that before as ask to get his breakfast in bed with a couple of eggs since the City Arms hotel when he used to be pretending to be laid up with a sick voice doing his highness to make himself interesting for that old faggot Mrs Riordan that he thought he had a great leg of and she never left us a farthing all for masses for herself and her soul greatest miser ever was actually afraid to lay out 4d for her methylated spirit telling me all her ailments she had too much old chat in her about politics and earthquakes and the end of the world let us have a bit of fun first God help the world if all the women were her sort down on bathingsuits and lownecks and on and on goes Molly

With Molly's final ruminations, James Joyce created probably the longest run-on sentence in literary history. However, the length of a sentence does not determine whether or not it is faulty. Run-ons come in all shapes and sizes.

The girl ran into the boy she wasn't watching.
The sentence suggests that the girl was watching another boy and, probably because she was so fascinated by him, ran into this poor chap. Or maybe she simply was not watching the boy into whom she ran? On the other hand, she might have run into him because she was not watching anything around her?
Nobody knows. Some punctuation or a conjunction can help avoiding confusion as well as a faulty fused sentence:
The girl ran into the boy; she wasn't watching. OR: The girl ran into the boy because she wasn't watching.

That is often the problem when people disagree and they get mad and insult one another personally.
What is the problem when people disagree and get mad? The sentence does not clarify this because it fuses two ideas without proper punctuation.
That is often the problem when people disagree; they get mad and insult one another personally.
Rephrasing is sometimes an even better solution: The problem when people disagree is that they often get mad and insult one another personally.

In recent years, a few large corporations have gained control of the media, and this presents a major problem for the same stories are published in the newspapers, on the radio and on TV and what happens is that the media do not illuminate an issue from different angles because they do less independent reporting, becoming the mouthpiece of corporate interests, but I personally would like to see more independent newspapers so the readers have a better chance to form their own opinions and consequently become better informed citizens.
This is an exemplary run-on sentence with several independent clauses (complete thoughts) forced together with a few conjunctions here and there instead of being properly separated. This causes unnecessary difficulties for the reader to follow the writer’s train of thought. For example, “this presents a major problem for the same stories” makes the reader stop and wonder why the stories may have a problem. Only the following words “are published” clarify the problem involved with media conglomerates. In order to be clearly understood, the writer should separate ideas from one another by a period, eliminate unnecessary words and phrases and rearrange some parts.
In recent years, a few large corporations have gained control of the media. This presents a major problem because the same stories are published in the newspapers, on the radio and on TV. The media are not independent anymore and, instead of illuminating an issue from different angles, have become the mouthpiece of corporate interests. A larger number of independent newspapers would afford the readers with a better chance to form their own opinions and consequently become better-informed citizens.

For more, including some really neat quizzes go to
this site.