The Corrector: Not Quite A Love Story

(999 words)

I gotta say man, I said, you might seriously be the world’s biggest grammar nazi.

Yeah? he said.

Like, ever.

Why do you say that?

Because you spend hours—I’m betting it’s literally hours—every day, correcting people. That’s why I say that.

But good grammar is an important part of life. It should be. I mean, what would it sound like, in the professional arena, if people couldn’t—and thus didn’t—ever speak properly?

A hell of a lot less irritating than if they always did, I tell you that.

The world needs, I don’t know, grammatical justice.

No, the world needs food, and supplies for starving people.  The world needs an answer to global warming and unchecked CO2 emissions. The world needs to invest resources into renewable energy.  The world does not need grammatical justice, at least not as bad as it needs those other things.

I could do it.

Do what?

I could bring the world some grammatical justice. I could totally do it.

I’m sorry, did we just have a one step forward, two steps back kind of thing just happen?

Yeah, I mean no—listen, check it out.  I could be like a superhero grammarian; I could even be called The Grammar Nazi, only I’d be a good Nazi who, like, strives for equality and justice in English sentences.

I think you just said you wanted people to start calling you the Grammar Nazi in a totally and completely serious sort of way, which, even though I just actually heard you say that, I’m still having trouble believing it, even though I know you did say it and very little time has lapsed in the interim.

So are you being facetious or what?  I think it’s a good idea!

OK, so what then, superhero—what would you do?  What would your super power be? Send grammar offenders off to concentration camps to work on their spelling?


—And so let’s also just put aside the complete insensitivity you’re showing to a historically tyrannized people for right now, and despite the fact that the Grammar Nazi would very clearly be a super villain, not a superhero—the Grammar Nazi is just a plain-ass fucken retarded name, in general.

Now who’s being insensitive?

That’s not even the point.  The point here is the thing that you’re missing.  I’m not suggesting to you that I’d like to become Captain Retardo or something—which would be the insensitivity equivalent of you going by the name, the Grammar Nazi—I’m saying that you can’t just go out and act like an insensitive dickner to a whole group of people like that just because you are on a personal crusade against typos.

What about the First Amendment though?

First Amendment won’t help you much to prevent receiving a good-old-fashioned-passionate-ass whoopin’, now will it?

Hmm—I see your point.

So if you’re serious—and I don’t know how you really could be—but if you’re seriously serious, then the Grammar Nazi is just fucken out. Bye bye! Gone.



OK then, I got it!  How about, “The Corrector!”?

Now we’re dealing with a whole new set of superhero issues.

Such as?

Such as, do you wanna be a fucken B-list fucken superhero?  The Corrector sounds like he’d fucken hang out with Judge Dread or some shitty superhero like that.  Some wack-ass second-rate superhero, like Luke Cage, or fucken Aquaman. I mean, name three people who could really tell you who Judge Dread is.  Name one time Aquaman fought bad guys on fucken Mars. Name one time Luke Cage ever did anything fucken interesting.

Geez—this is turning out to sound like more work than it’s worth.

Hey, look; you can’t back out now that you got me thinking seriously about this.  So what else you got?

White Out.


You’re being insensitive.

You’re being a dickner.

Then how ’bout The Deleter.

No. Sounds like a hitman.  A shitty hitman.  Sounds like if Luke Cage became a hitman, and how shitty that would be—that’s what I think of when I hear The Deleter.

Wow, critical much?

C’mon, what else you got?

The Correct-o-nator.

Better, but it sounds like either a badass cybernetic organism, OR an overpriced blender.  On second thought, I’m not feeling that at one all.

I dunno—I’m outta ideas.

That sucks.  That’s a shitty attitude.  That’s like the Luke Cage of attitudes, right there.

C’mon man, I’m trying!

Try harder.

This is me sighing exasperatedly.

This is me not really giving a speck of shit.  C’mon man, you’re the one who wanted to be a super hero grammar-…guy—or whatever. This was your idea in the first place. You can’t just start stuff and then decide you don’t wanna finish it.


Again, whatever.

OK, I think I got it.

And what you got is—?

Perfecto Correcto!

Hmmm… I don’t hate it.  I mean, I definitely don’t hate it.  It sounds a little fruity, but I definitely don’t hate it.

That’s it then.  Perfecto Correcto, that’s me.

All righty. That’s you. So what are you gonna do now, Perfecto?

I’m gonna go grammarnate the masses, that’s what I’m gonna do now.


Yeah, grammarnate the masses. That’s what I’m gonna go do.  Right now.  Starting with the Internet.

Oh boy, here we go again.

What?  Where are we going again.

First thing, the Internet is, like, infinite, not to mention impossible.  And second thing, Grammarnate is a stupid word. Who’s gonna take you seriously if go around talking about grammarnating motherfuckers… OK, you know what, because of that fucken work I hate, we’re nixing Perfecto, too.

Wait, what? But why?

Because now I’ll always associate it with that stupid madeup word that shall not be uttered ever again.


But, nevermind, from now on, you can call yourself The Corrector.

Why The Corrector?

Because it’s situationally accurate, not offensive or insensitive and it doesn’t piss me off.

That’s your only criteria?

That’s about it.


Wow, indeed.

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