Lable* + Label* (for, usually, Label*)

Not everything needs a label, but most things have (and often should have) one. In any case, if you plan on labeling something, you should at least try and make sure it's spelled right. One thing that probably does need a label is Marmite as it might be a little hard to tell what it is without one. Besides, the label on this blackish, brackish, spreadable sticky stuff is actually rather charming: "Roses are red, violets are blue, Marmite, you're brown... & I love you." Apparently it was designed "by Cheryl, age 17 ½." The label also includes a list of ingredients (which kind of reminds me of Woody Allen's request for "alfalfa sprouts and a plate of mashed yeast" in the movie Sleeper), a note that says "with extra folic acid" (in case you've got a new little Marmite eater on the way) and a stamp including both date and exact time packed (e.g., 3:01), followed by the somewhat intriguing advice: "Best before end." Any more questions? You can call the "Marmite loveline free ... Mon–Fri 8.00am to 6.00pm." Though the delectability of Marmite is somewhat debatable (the British company's advertising slogan is remarkably forthright: "Love it or hate it"), I personally know a couple of moderately finicky eaters who nevertheless relish the stuff. There were six wrongly labeled cases of Lable* + Label* in OhioLINK today, and 231 in WorldCat. Lable* by itself yields 29 hits in the former (around a dozen of which were for personal names, such as Lablénie, Lablée, Lable, and Labler, as well as the acronym LABLEX) and "too many records found for your search" in the latter.

(Back label on present UK's Marmite jar without information about supposed glutamic acid-rich character of the yeast extract inside, February 2012, from Wikimedia Commons.)

Carol Reid

Bankrupc* (for Bankruptc*)

It looks like the banks are bankrupting us. (Kind of like the inmates running the asylum.) And by "us" I don't just mean the U.S. The entire world is currently suffering economic implosion at the hands of bankers. It's been a while since we've had a "bank run" in this country, but despite FDIC assurances (and insurance) to the contrary, it could definitely happen again. As a matter of fact, it already has. The worst form of bankruptcy, though, isn't the Chapter 7/11/13 kind, even on a national or global scale. The real problem is moral bankruptcy. If it weren't for unfettered greed, corruption, and class warfare, it's possible we might've been able to solve our financial woes by now. Or at least take a few steps in that direction. This typo is more of a purposeful misspelling, due to the near-silent nature of the letter T here. There were 14 of these in OhioLINK, and 207 in WorldCat.

(Bankrupt Bank (Крах банка) by Vladimir Makovsky, scene of a bank run, 1881, from Wikimedia Commons.)

Carol Reid

Betweee* (for Between)

Twee, though difficult to define, means cloyingly sweet or aggressively adorable, dainty, quaint, sentimental, etc. A certain strain of "indie pop" is often described as twee. Adults dressed as children are generally considered twee. Practically all of Japanese culture is twee (including their response to nuclear disaster!), a concept perhaps best illustrated by the iconic image known in children's toy stores (and the closets of many grown women) as "Hello Kitty." Kittens of all stripes are almost certain to be twee. Although I've never posted a cat picture before (LOL or otherwise), this was the tweeest (?!) thing I could find today to illustrate this entry. In Dutch, twee means two, so if one too-cute cat isn't quite enough for you, here are a rather twee twee from 1874. There were 30 examples of this typo in OhioLINK, and 430 in WorldCat.

(A particularly cute abandoned kitten, May 2008, from Wikimedia Commons.)

Carol Reid

Sidny* (for Sidney*)

A certain shade of blue is the color of the sky on a cloudless summer's day. It's also the color of inner bliss and enlightenment among certain circles. And it's the color of all of that on this beautiful poster for the moving, controversial, and award-winning film A Patch of Blue, starring Sidney Poitier and Elizabeth Hartman. Hartman plays Selina D'Arcey, who is white, eighteen, and blind, and Poitier plays Gordon Ralfe—who isn't. "Made in 1965 against the backdrop of the growing civil rights movement," says Wikipedia, "the film explores racism from the perspective of 'love is blind'..." Kissing scenes between Poitier and Hartman were cut in order to allow for distribution in the South. The director, Guy Green, insisted on the movie being filmed in black and white, although color was widely used at the time. (Ted Turner successfully "colorized" it later on, but that version was only shown briefly and has not persisted.) A Patch of Blue deals, not only with racism, but other social issues as well: blindness, prostitution, domestic abuse, and rape. It's also, more importantly, about love and redemption. It's one of my favorite Sidney (with an E) movies. There were nine cases of Sidny* for Sidney* in OhioLINK, and 87 in WorldCat.

(Movie poster for A Patch of Blue, from Wikipedia.)

Carol Reid

Experein* (for Experien*)

Are you experienced? My own experience as a seeker of typos has been a very enlightening one. In short, I've discovered that typographical errors respect no boundaries. Whether they turn up on a hand-lettered greengrocer's sign or official inscription carved in stone, typos, it seems, are everywhere. And the more ironic they are—appearing, for example, in conjunction with cultural institutions or educational organizations—the better. They're also more egregious the more they cost to make (and fix). For instance, those on professionally made signage or publications are worth more than the kind that can simply be erased, crossed out, or backspaced over. The other day on the bus ride home, I glimpsed a sign out the window for something called the New Birth Christian Fellowship Center that read: "Life Changing Expereince." I wouldn't exactly say my life was changed by the experience, but it definitely made my day. This one reminds me a bit of a misspelling an otherwise bright young relative made not too long ago: he spelled the word atheist athiest. (I'm athy, you're athier, he's athiest!) We found seven cases of today's typo in OhioLINK, and 249 in WorldCat. As experienced catalogers and great typo hunters yourselves, you will undoubtedly find a few of these in your own databases too. Enjoy the experience.

(Album cover for the U.S. version of Are You Experienced by The Jimi Hendrix Experience, from Wikimedia Commons.)

Carol Reid

Effice* (for Efficie*)

Spring is currently upon us and, the potential for a surprise late season storm notwithstanding, it seems as if we may have dodged a snowball this year. No mountainous drifts to shovel off the steps and driveway, no slipping and sliding as we tentatively try and walk down the street, no whipping winds or effing ice to threaten our footing and rooftops. Other than a rather glacial patience and some salty compounds to sprinkle around when the usual tools aren't doing the job, there's really no terribly efficient way to get rid of ice. You might as well just sit inside with a hot cup of cocoa and enjoy Jack Frost's frigid handiwork. We uncovered 43 cases of Effice* in OhioLINK today (three were correctly spelled examples of the Latin word for do) and a blizzardy 1,007 in WorldCat. Chip away at your own typo formations today while dreaming of the winter that wasn't.

(German icicles, from Wikimedia Commons.)

Carol Reid

Extact*, Extarct* (for Extract*)

Most of us recognize vanilla in the form of the familiar, almost medicinal-looking bottle of extract found in practically everyone's kitchen cabinet. However, the wonderfully scented spice also comes as a skinny brown bean pod, as well as a rather luridly lovely member of the orchid family. Oddly enough, the word vanilla has also become synonymous with "bland" or "boring," especially as contrasted with chocolate, which of course is totally unfair. Like the color white, which is not the absence of color, but a combination of all the colors, vanilla ice cream, for example, is not simply some default version of the milk-white dairy product; it simply has the good manners and breeding not to make its presence too obvious. Vanilla possesses a strong and marvelous flavor of its own, but the "plain ol' vanilla" label pejoratively lingers. Let me be perfectly clear, though. I love chocolate (its taste, texture, mood-altering qualities, and checkered past), but when it comes to ice cream, I'm still going to have to go with vanilla. Not only is it just as flavorful, but a little bit of extract and some grated vanilla beans far better preserve the consistency of ice cream than does a large dose of cocoa powder. Even chips and chunks of chocolate do not fare as well in there as one might otherwise hope: the colder chocolate gets, it seems, the less it tastes (and feels) like chocolate. So maybe it's high time we vanilla-philes take a little pride in our preference and lose our "banal, flavorless, humdrum, insipid, vapid, wishy-washy" image. We extracted eight cases of Extact* (and six of Extarct*) from OhioLINK, and 128 and 20, respectively, from WorldCat. Nearly all of them seemed to be typos for extract*, but you may find a few for words like exact* as well.

(Vanilla imperialis, 13 May 2010, from Wikimedia Commons.)

Carol Reid

Goverment* (for Government*)

A lot of people nowadays think the government is overrun with vermin, and that making the mistake of voting "just encourages them." This point of view is nothing new, however, nor is it limited to a single end of the political spectrum. People have been complaining about the "gummint" for as long as there has been one to complain about. And what better way to say that there's nobody worth voting for than to mount your very own campaign? From redoubtable third-party candidates like Ralph Nader and the early Ron Paul, to comedians and actors like Al "Stuart Smalley" Franken and Al "Grandpa Munster" Lewis, to scores of other democratic DIY-ers, such independent interlopers at least provide more color than the old "one fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish" state of the union. (With apologies there to Dr. Seuss, who might well have won had he ever decided to run. In fact, the candidate shown here looks like he could be a character in Dr. Seuss's cabinet.) Goverment* got 220 votes in OhioLINK and "too many records found for your search" in WorldCat.

(Vermin Supreme, an American performance artist, anarchist, and activist known for being a satirical candidate in various local, state, and national elections, from Wikimedia Commons.)

Carol Reid

Intord* (for Introd*)

Tord Gustavsen is a Norwegian jazz pianist, born in Oslo in 1970. In Tord, so to speak, you have not only a sensitive and talented musician, but also someone deeply devoted to the mysteries of human behavior. Gustavsen studied jazz at the Conservatory of Music Trondheim and jazz theory at the University of Oslo, but got his introduction to psychology as an undergraduate and continues to be fascinated by the subject. He once wrote a "lengthy thesis on the paradoxes of improvisation drawing on the psychological theory of Helm Stierlin and Anne-Lise Løvlie Schibbye." In combining the two disciplines, Gustavsen seems to be gravitating toward the idea that "Musick has Charms to sooth a savage Breast." Apparently, we human beings are all just works in progress, more or less improvising as we go along. Today's typo (otherwise known as human error) was introduced 57 times to OhioLINK and 882 times to WorldCat.

(Tord Gustavsen, 10 November 2007, from Wikimedia Commons.)

Carol Reid

Profread* (for Proofread*)

Today's typo is neither profane, profound, nor terribly profuse, although it's kind of a cool one anyway. It registers as "lowest probability" on the Ballard list, but seeing as how most college professors will readily assert that "spelling counts," I simply couldn't resist. I mean it's just funny when the word proofread is the one word that really should have been. Your own prof may be very well read, but even professional types make typos. (If I ever decide to start an online editing service, I'm thinking of calling it proofreid.com.) I'm proffering our typo of the day with the caveat that only one of these was found in the OhioLINK database, and a mere nine in WorldCat. You'll have to proofread your own catalog, though, to find out whether or not you profit by the exercise.

(Gallery of professors of Czech Technical University in Prague, 1872, reprinted in 1895, from Wikimedia Commons.)

Carol Reid

Conciev* (for Conceiv*)

Birds do it, bees do it, even teens out in AZ do it... Let's do the time warp again! Somebody should make a T-shirt, button, or bumper sticker that reads: "Arizonans do it in the fourth dimension." According to the latest foray in the War on Women, a bizarre bit of Arizona legislation now makes the claim that "pregnancy" begins at two weeks before conception. A concept that's truly hard to conceive. Comedian Sarah Silverman recently posed for supposed before and after photos, saying that she had decided to get a "quickie aborsh" before it was too late. I understand the politics behind this new Arizona law, and the way it works to limit options and access for women and girls, and I'm offended and outraged by it. However, what I really can't get over at the moment is the Orwellian/Carrollian aspect here. Was Humpty Dumpty right? Do words simply mean whatever we want them to? Do words, like more and more women these days, have no actual agency of their own? Is it really possible to be a "little bit" pregnant? (The questions are flooding my gobsmacked mind.) Do people lose their virginity two weeks before they have sex for the first time? Is a baby born two weeks before it leaves its mother's womb? Do governors and legislators in Arizona speak two weeks before they think? I think the answer to that one is obvious. There were 22 cases of Conciev* in OhioLINK, and 283 in WorldCat.

(American comedian, writer, and actress Sarah Silverman during the 2007 Writers Guild of America strike, from Wikimedia Commons.)

Carol Reid

Itme* (for Item*, etc.)

Today is Friday the 13th, so it's high time for a spooky blog entry. When it comes to creep comedies like The Addams Family and The Munsters, people can be surprisingly partisan. I remember the time TVLand sponsored a survey as to which family of monsters their viewers liked best. There's a lot to love in both of them, but for some it may come down to the kids and which ones you find most appealing or relatable. Wednesday Addams and Eddie Munster were both cute as buttons, but some folks prefer female children, others male. As Lewis Carroll famously put it: "I am fond of children (except boys)." (It occurs to me that the third child, Pugsley, looked a little bit like Tweedledum and Tweedledee!) I always appreciated the conceit of Marilyn Munster (a pretty blonde) being considered the "Ugly Duckling" in her household (kind of like that classic Twilight Zone episode in which the attractive-looking woman is undergoing normalization at the hands of some ghoulish surgeons). But who didn't enjoy watching Gomez Addams flamboyantly kissing his wife Morticia's arm while murmuring "Cara mia"? Speaking of appendages, there was also the disembodied butler, Thing. And then, of course, there was Cousin Itt, a rather small, but utterly hirsute and, according to Wikipedia, "carefree bachelor with an extravagant lifestyle." Itt even managed to carry on something of an affair with Morticia's sister Ophelia. There were six hits on Itme* in OhioLINK this morning, but only three of them were typos for the word in question. The other three comprised a correct Latin spelling; the surname Itmer; and a typo made by omitting the space between the words it and means ("This is what itmeans to say Phoenix, Arizona" by Sherman Alexie). There were 373 matches on WorldCat as well. Hopefully, your luck today will be good and you'll uncover a few of these items in your own catalogs.

(Publicity photo of Jackie Coogan (Uncle Fester) and Ted Cassidy (Lurch) from a personal appearance booking at Pleasure Island, an amusement park in Wakefield, Mass., July 15, 1966, from Wikimedia Commons.)

Carol Reid

Absorbtion (for Absorption)

Trying to ascertain why certain English words are spelled the way they are can be a very absorbing endeavor. It often feels downright illogical. While the bee pictured to the right is hanging on pretty tight, the (second) B in absorb drops out of sight when the word is expanded (as absorbent substances are wont to do) to absorption. We found 27 examples of Absorbtion in OhioLINK, and 715 in WorldCat. But you should note that not all of those are typos. Some bib records are using the correct spelling in a foreign language (for example, German). Given that this one is really more of a misspelling than an accidental typo, it seems likely that your own database may have absorbed a few of these as well. Watch your B's and P's today and clean up your catalog better than a Bounty (?) paper towel.

("Absorbed in the feast: this bee was completely unaware or perhaps uninterested in my camera lens which was really very close to it!" Photo by Crispin Semmens, 31 May 2008, from Wikimedia Commons.)

Carol Reid

Pharmec* (for Pharmac*)

Most pharmacies these days are big chain stores, but happily it seems there are still a few of the old-fashioned kind around. You might try thinking of the term "Big Pharma" as a way of recalling how to spell it; or maybe just the word "Ma" would put you in mind of some old home remedies your mother had up her sleeve. Drugs generally have their origins in natural compounds, herbs, and botanicals, but the former tend to be far more dangerous than the latter. While I find it difficult to believe that many TV viewers are inclined to run out and ask their doctors if [latest questionable drug in question] may be "right for you," those appalling ads (the side effects sound worse than the ailment itself) must do the trick since both "over the counter" and prescription drug use is an extremely lucrative business. You might not feel any better after taking these products, but the pharmaceutical makers certainly do. Pharmec* occurs nine times in OhioLINK and 98 times in WorldCat.

(Pharmacie Malard, Commercy, France, May 2007, from Wikimedia Commons.)

Carol Reid

Pearl + Pearle (for Pearle or Pearl)

I wrote the other day about the Pearle Vision commercial in which the "Naughty Librarian" fantasy was, I thought, rather expertly sent up. I found it witty and ironic and full of attitude. But it's a fine line, sometimes, between offensiveness and satire, and we ladies can be a mysterious and contentious bunch. Another pearl, Ms. Nancy Pearl, generated a similar, if sort of opposite, reaction with her 2003 librarian action figure, created by the novelty outlet Archie McPhee. According to a vocal minority at the time, the image represented by the Nancy Pearl doll was also stereotypical and therefore wrong—although, in fact, it's a near-exact replica of Pearl herself, one of the most charming, well-read, activist librarians you would ever want to meet. And I did meet her once. She had given a wonderful talk about her life and bibliomania at the local university and when it was over, I got to tag along on a tour of the new library, involving the university president's wife, one or two other people, Nancy Pearl, and me! It takes all kinds and no matter what we look like, none of us are "stereotypes," so long as we're free to be who we are, not afraid to take chances, and willing to keep a sense of humor. Twelve cases of Pearl + Pearle (for Pearle or Pearl) in OhioLINK and 59 in WorldCat.

(Nancy Pearl librarian action figure, from the Archie McPhee website.)

Carol Reid

Decroat* (for Decorat*)

I hope you all had a nice Easter/ Passover weekend and are now getting ready for a new season of rebirth and renewal (as well as the all-important "reducing, reusing, and recycling" that goes with any good spring cleaning). Fortunately, Easter eggs can be consumed in a variety of ways and their shells may be added (assuming natural dyes, like spinach, beets, and onion skins, have been used) directly to your compost heap. So why is the Christian holiday that celebrates the resurrection of Jesus Christ (a "moveable feast" falling on various Sundays from March 22 to April 25) called "Easter"? And why is there a "Bunny" in charge? And what, after all, do rabbits have to do with eggs? According to neo-pagan legend, the springtime goddess Ostara (who some claim is etymologically linked to the word estrogen) came upon a bird whose wings had gotten frozen in the ice, so she sympathetically turned him into a "snow hare." She also granted him the ability to lay eggs in rainbow colors, but only once a year. (If birds can become rabbits and males can lay eggs, I suppose eggs can grow on trees as well. Anyway, it's fun to pretend.) Egg decoration is a form of messy child's play in some places, but a delicate and dedicated high art in others. While eggs are dyed and painted for Easter all over the world, countries such as Bulgaria, Croatia, Hungary, Latvia, Lithuania, Lebanon, Macedonia, Romania, Serbia, and the Ukraine seem to produce the most beautiful ones. They hold the annual championship in something known as "egg tapping" (also referred to as "shackling," "jarping" or "dumping"). I'm not sure what we called it, if anything, but we used to play this game at my house too. It's an interesting experiment, really, almost a Rorshach test of sorts. Do you tap lightly so as not to crack your own shell? Or hard so as to crack your opponent's? Today's typo was tapped five times in OhioLINK and 24 times in WorldCat.

(Easter egg with Easter hare painted on it, April 2006, from Wikimedia Commons.)

Carol Reid

Vision* + Vison* (for Vision*)

A recent commercial for Pearle Vision eyewear hits just the right note. A pulchritudinous young woman with her hair in a bun and twinkle in her eye (the forefinger to pursed lips probably would've been overkill) stares into the camera and purrs menacingly: "You have a lot of late fees, mister. Maybe someone should teach you to return your library books on time." "The Naughty Librarian," intones the narrator, "and other great looks. Now when you buy one pair of glasses, you get another pair free..." Whether the N.L. is addressing an errant patron or an erotic partner in this spot pretty much depends on how you want to read it. It works, like many a librarian, on more than one level. At the end the woman is revealed as a Pearle Vision customer who simply wants the "sexy librarian" look. While I suspect some actual librarians may be offended by it (our poor, poor image!), I thought the commercial was smart, sassy, and maybe even a tad visionary. We saw 16 cases of Vision* + Vison* in OhioLINK, and 281 in WorldCat. See whether you can locate some of these naughty typos in your own catalog, and look good while doing it.

(Screenshot of "The Naughty Librarian.")

Carol Reid

Contacep* (for Contracep*)

The conservative assault on Planned Parenthood and current rollbacks to women's reproductive rights in general will likely give rise to some creative, if rather dangerous, alternatives. Women, after all, have been managing to limit their family size, as well as to obtain abortions, for centuries, regardless of the legal status of same. When fainting and falling down stairs and so on didn't have the desired effect, there were any number of herbs that could act as an abortifacient, such as pennyroyal, nutmeg, mugwort, etc. And perhaps even more of them that proved effective as birth control. The lovely, yet pernicious, weed pictured here is called Chinese lantern: "Its balloon-like qualities also made it a contraceptive in early Japan." Although my mother never warned me about the failure rate of similar methods, she did advise me not to plant Chinese (aka Japanese) lantern in my yard. It's quite invasive (much like the Religious Right) and difficult to defeat once it's gained ground in your garden. There were three cases of Contacep* in OhioLINK and 30 in WorldCat. Try and rid your databases of this unwanted typo should you happen to find it cropping up there.

(Chinese lantern, Aug. 2, 2009, part of a set by H. Zell, from Wikimedia Commons.)

Carol Reid

Idepend* (for Independ*)

I came across an odd typo the other day: Declaration of Independence of Its Story. That second "of," in case you're wondering, should be an "and." But somehow the original formulation put me in mind of this essay I read recently, "The Murder of Leo Tolstoy: A Forensic Investigation" by Elif Batuman, a fascinating story (what one reviewer calls a "mock-murder mystery") that may be a bit independent of the actual truth. While I look to the news and other types of nonfiction to give me just the facts, ma'am, I've also come to appreciate a certain sort of "memoir" (the term Batuman herself uses) as being potentially much more valuable. However, this particular genre can cover some debatable and contentious ground, as we all learned from the controversy over Oprah Winfrey's book club pick A Million Little Pieces by James Frey. There have also been numerous reports of journalists caught making things up, like the apparent wunderkind Stephen Glass at The Atlantic, whose professional misdeeds formed the basis for the movie Shattered Glass. But Batuman is communicating something here about Tolstoy that is much more interesting than those scams could ever be. It's a truth that transcends truth, while somehow making it all the more accessible. Idepend* turns up five times in OhioLINK and 153 times in WorldCat. I depend on you to look for and hopefully find a few examples of this typo in your own catalogs as well.

(Tolstoy at his Yasnaya Polyana estate in May 1908 by Sergey Prokudin-Gorsky, the only known color photograph of the writer, from Wikimedia Commons.)

Carol Reid

Coporat*, Corprat* (for Corporat*)

As if New York City didn't already have enough of a vermin problem, there are all those corporate rats on Wall Street to worry about now too. If the whole thing wasn't quite so tragic, it would really be sort of funny—lots of stuffed shirts and puffed-up suits taking constant pratfalls, rather like Keynesian Keystone cops racing cluelessly around on the silver screen. Nothing more than piggy little Kermits (it's not easy seeing green), they have the "I know you are, but what am I?" gall to call their clients "Muppets." The love of money is the route of all evil, but the bankers and their corporate shills aren't feeling a lot of love lately. The business of evil is instead finding its well-worn path rerouted by the Occupiers. However, it's not enough to jump up on a soapbox and start screaming. The rats have too many (loop)holes in which to hide their loot. Hearts and minds need to be changed, and so does the law of the land. There were 67 instances of Coporat* in OhioLINK and 993 in WorldCat; we also found nine, and 98, cases of Corprat*.

(Illustration from The Pied Piper of Hamelin, ca. 1888, from Wikimedia Commons.)

Carol Reid

Techic* (for Technic*)

I suppose it's a bit disingenuous, if not downright ungrateful, for a blogger like myself to claim to be a "Luddite" of sorts, but there's just something about things that come under the rubric of Tech that makes me wanna say ick. I'm no spring chick, after all, born with a Twitter in my heart. But then machines and I have never exactly been soulmates; we're more like uneasy roommates who happen to meet each other's needs in some peculiar way. Popular concepts such as "How Stuff Works" and "How Things Are Made" are for me, far too often, as frustratingly unknowable and inexplicable as the existence of God, or life after death. In any case, I take my tech with a grain of salt. One salty old coot who knew how to simultaneously use and abuse the technical was Ted Kaczynzki. Or should that be "... is Ted Kaczynski?" He's still alive—in no small part due to the untiring and inspiring efforts of his younger brother, who is currently the executive director of New Yorkers for Alternatives to the Death Penalty. I've heard David Kaczynski speak on several occasions. Listening to him recount the dawning realization that his brother Ted was the "Unabomber" (it was actually his wife who first recognized her brother-in-law's brilliant anti-technology ravings in the pages of the New York Times) is a moving experience. There were 43 cases of Techic* found in OhioLINK, and 901 in WorldCat.

(Booking photo of Theodore Kaczynski, April 1996, from Wikimedia Commons.)

Carol Reid