“Has the jury reached a verdict?” asked Judge Participle–who was widely regarded as a “hanging” judge.

“We have, your honor,” said the jury foreman, one Mr. Rigg. “On the first charge of willfully and knowingly unleashing wretched prose upon the nations of the earth, and inspiring copycats to do likewise, we the jury find the defendant Stemp Heinemeyer guilty.”

Stemp, seated at the defendant’s table, let out a moan and hung his head in his hands.

“On the second charge,” continued Rigg, “that of willfully and knowingly disregarding the rules of grammar as we know them, and the specific counts of Oxford comma violations, run-on sentencery, purple-proseity, et al, we the jury find the defendant guilty.”

Stemp moaned softly.

“And finally, on the third charge of willfully and knowingly profiteering from these crimes, we the jury find the defendant especially guilty,” Rigg finished.

Judge Participle struck his gavel forcefully. “Stemp Heinemeyer,” he said, “having been found guilty by a jury of your peers, by the power vested in me by the State of Construct, I hereby sentence you to life imprisonment in a third-rate science fiction novel to be determined at a later date.”

“No!” cried Stemp wildly. “Anything but that!”

The judge banged on his gavel once again. “Clear the courtroom!”

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“We’re not here about the misuse of commas or the outright abuse of possessive apostraphe-s in your ad copy. They have been cataloged and coded. We are also well aware of your use of the term ‘literally’ to mean ‘practically’ and ‘could care less’ to mean ‘couldn’t care less’ in both copy and casual conversation. No, Mr. Repard, we have convened this tribunal to discuss the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

“Please, you don’t understand! It was just an ad!”

“Ads are still discourse, Mr. Repard, and they inform all discourse to come. For the tribunal: did you or did you not create an advertisement for, and I quote, ‘fuel-efficient tires?'”

“It was just an ad to sell tires!”

“May I remind you, Mr. Repard, that tires consume no fuel and therefore cannot be fuel efficient?”

“Please, I just meant that the tires increase the overall fuel efficiency of the vehicle! I had limited ad space!”

“If that’s what you meant, that’s what you should have said. The Semiotics Tribunal will now render its verdict.”

“Guilty.”

“Guilty.”

“Guilty. Hereby sentenced to 18 months in the semicolon mines of San Serriffe. Dismissed!”

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Old Sam used to be a grammar teacher. Now he’s just an old pilcrow-popper that no rehab clinic will touch, a jittering mess of nerves looking for his next fix of ¶, ¶, ¶.

And let’s not forget about Betty, the long-haul semicolon-trucker. Time was, her ; brought order and clarity to complicated sentences with more clauses than the North Pole. Now; they speckle her; every page; like; worm; damage.

&, &, &. That’s the sound of the ampersand-storm rolling in at the behest of Chris, who became infatuated with the symbol doing old-timey graphic design. Now it’s become a mission to singlehandedly reverse its decline.

Lastly, who could forget poor A.J., who through exposure to East Asian popular culture has started ~bracketing~ ~words~ ~with~ ~tildes~ and even using them to end sentences~ A real tilde-luxe, that~

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