Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

A barnacle is a person or thing that clings tenaciously, according to Webster’s Unabridged Dictionary. And a variety of barnacles are creeping into the English language. They are as unwelcome as their watery cousins, the alewives, since both tend to pollute that which they inhabit.

Barnacles repeat the meaning of the verbs they attach to and are basically unnecessary. Yet, everyone uses them. In the course of a single day, I heard the following examples: “He fell down from the ladder.” “I lifted up my glass in a toast.” “The gardener sprayed on the weed killer.”

Hey, could he have fallen up the ladder? Could I have lifted down my glass in a toast? And what about the gardener?

Are we so lazy that we don’t think before we speak? Or maybe we’re thinking of something else internally while casually expressing a thought on a subject externally. It’s just that we are losing the battle against clarity and preciseness. By removing ‘down,’ ‘up,’ and ‘on’ from the above examples, the sentences lose no meaning but are actually better written or spoken.

I’m waiting for the first debate this evening between presidential candidates Bush and Kerry, and one of the things I plan to listen for are barnacles. It will help keep me awake, and I’ll provide a report in a day or two.