Damn
Spellcheckers
By: David P. Cantrell
Spellchecker's made me a horrible speller
that spells better.
“Huh,” you might say. Well, let me explain.
I went to grade school at a time of weekly
spelling tests. A list of words was provided on Monday. I don't recall if
definitions were provided. But, I know I was expected to spell the list on the
following Friday without error.
The results of this difficult challenge
weren't subject to any kind of student-teacher privilege. Oh no, the 14th
Amendment's Due Process Clause didn't apply. Mom and Dad were the judge and
jury. They confirmed their deliberations by signing the graded test, which was
returned to the inquisitor (i.e. teacher) on the following Monday. And, then the
torturous cycle started again.
Phonetics would save me, I was told. If I
pronounced words correctly and knew the convoluted rules of phonetics, I could
ace any spelling test. I can't argue with the premise. Perhaps phonetics could
have made me a spelling bee champion, but damned if I could master the phonetic
rules. I tried, but an a, e and i are very difficult for me to distinguish. Is
it terrible or terrable? That brings up “el” and “le,” they were just as
mysterious. If label is correct, why isn't cable cabel? You might say, “Listen
for a bell sound.” I'd answer, "To what purpose, they both have it."
I struggled through school, dictionary at hand, and finally landed a job that
offered a technological solution to my spelling disability. That's what it is,
you know. Good spellers don't know it. To them only idiots or slackers
misspell. They'll never give a dispinsation, I mean dispensation, to a
bad speller. But, bad spellers know it's a congenital condition, like freckles.
The Dictaphone was a wonderful invention. I
could record whatever I had to say, and make someone else spell it. If they
mistyped my dictation--no matter how poorly pronounced--it was their fault, not
mine. Unfortunately, I came to Dictaphones at the end of their usefulness. They
were soon replaced by the next new wonder "Word processors," computerized
juggernauts that could catch my spelling errors for me. I'd finally learn how
to spell. Ya, right. I actually did improve as I started typing my own documents,
at least for a while.
But, over time I came to depend on the
spellchecker. If I couldn't spell a word I wanted, no worries I just got close
and right clicked. More times than not, the word I wanted would appear. If it
didn't, I'd make another attempt by changing something. Changing F to PH often
helped, for example. If that didn't prove successful, I'd stop, close my eyes
and visualize the shape of the word while saying it out loud. Then I'd look at
my last attempt. Oh, it needs something tall in the middle, "I'll try an
L," I might say. Think of the technique as a reverse Rorschach test. In
this case you form an ink blot shaped like your chosen word and see if the
computer gets it right. It usually does.
I don't misspell any more, but I often
misuse words. Did I have a prostrate or prostate exam?
