ABOVE: The author at 17, in full period mode. I was raised by periods. My father was a period and my mother was a period. My ultra-Orthodox rabbis were periods, and the books they taught me from were periods, too. Everything was known, everything was certain: how the world came into being and how it was going to end, who the good people were and who the bad people were, what was allowed and what was forbidden, who God loved and who God hated.
I was raised Southern Baptist; there, in the unforgiving sweat of the South, we call the periods "sheep", and Jesus is the shepherd. Jesus tends to his flock, feeds and protects them.
But are shepherds ever altruistic? They fleece sheep, milk them, force them to go wherever they deem suitable, and butcher then for meat as they please. I have never known a better metaphor for many (not all) religious leaders.
In middle school, after a particularly "fire and brimstone" preacher roared at us, on a very fine Sunday that would have been better spent not glued to a sweaty yellow pew, that no matter what we did after, we were nevertheless doomed to the suffering of Hell, and I thought then, "Then why am I wasting my time with YOU?" and I thus became a question mark.
And have been one ever since. But I never considered that leaning in grammatical terms until I read this, so I thank you. Keep being a question mark. Perhaps being so isn't always happy, and it can be lonely, but I have zero regrets, as I'm assured you must feel.
I found in my religious schooling that they could spot a potential question mark a mile away - and did everything they could to break them. Congrats on surviving them.
Thank you and ditto. Per your response, that is most likely why they burned people as witches, not very long ago, who probably just wanted to be left alone with their animals and herb gardens and not follow the herd. And at least they don't lobotomize people anymore for being "different". We are lucky, still, in many ways today, despite even current monstrosities. Conversion therapy sounds terrible; I'm content that my Baptist family only say that my bisexuality is a "phase" (I'm 40, and have ALWAYS liked girls) without forcing me into unnecessary and traumatizing experiences.
Somewhat aligned story here, C.L., with the southern (Methodist) upbringing, and then I went and got myself into a truly evangelical situation in college. It was so bad my parents demanded I come home and talk to my previous pastor, because they were sure I'd joined a cult. They weren't entirely wrong.
The turning point was a healing service where the EXCLAMATION POINT YELLED some words over a young woman in a wheelchair before asking her to get up and walk. When she couldn't perform, he blamed it on her lack of faith. That was my ah-ha. My "aw, hell no!" moment. How embarrassing that it took me so long.
I learned later that when my mother was 13, in church awaiting her confirmation (or whatever it's called), she chose to stay in the pew when the rest of her class went to the front to "join the church." She wasn't sure she was ready for that and had the self-assurance to sit it out. This would have been 1940. She would absolutely have been burned as a witch.
I thank my lucky stars for the question mark in my DNA.
Oh no, I saw that type of thing, too! A preacher would wave his "jazz fingers" over a woman and assert that the pregnancy she so wanted was SURE to happen. Meanwhile, my surely tween self was all, "So if she gets pregnant, she's now going to attribute that 'miracle' to you?"
just when i thought i’d heard every gematria there was to know… this one was new to me. now i’ve got that Pulp Fiction scene stuck in my head, the one where Samuel L Jackson says “Say ‘what’ again, I dare you”
I find that question marks almost always have a sense of humour. I think it goes with the territory. May I add that I’m also partial to being a semicolon at times? As in: taking that studious pause needed to gather myself and calmly sidestep just a bit more, rather than barreling along in an uninterrupted torrent of words.
Let’s hear it for the semicolon; I’m a big fan. (On a tangential note, my brother had a section of his colon removed some years back. Of course, I told him he now had a semicolon.)
1. A scourge of exclamation points often leaves behind a crop of tender new question marks, like a forest fire fertilizing the soil for fresh growth.
2. If they're not careful, question marks can just be periods in disguise. I've met a lot of people who are pretty smug about how successfully uncertain they are.
I was raised a period by an exclamation point and an inverted question mark. Since my early teens I have been a question mark, much to the chagrin of the exclamation point who raised me.
Great. I already spend too much time trying to decide if a certain aggressively questioning line of dialogue should be punctuated with a ‘!?’ or a ‘?!’ and now I’m wondering if this is ultimately a problem of identity.
Hi, this is the first time I've read something like this. Loved it! Thank you so much. I'm currently in high school but plan to become a paid subscriber of you when I start earning.
Personally I'm the em-dash—always interjecting myself, always wanting to explain my words with more words—it's a trait my editor strongly disapproves of. (You've made me hyper-conscious of all my full stops—as we call them this side of the Atlantic—what will I do now??)
Wonderful. I think Whitman laughed, though. Wasn't there, couldn't say for sure. I'm seldom a period, even if I think I know something. I'm more of an ellipse...
I was raised Southern Baptist; there, in the unforgiving sweat of the South, we call the periods "sheep", and Jesus is the shepherd. Jesus tends to his flock, feeds and protects them.
But are shepherds ever altruistic? They fleece sheep, milk them, force them to go wherever they deem suitable, and butcher then for meat as they please. I have never known a better metaphor for many (not all) religious leaders.
In middle school, after a particularly "fire and brimstone" preacher roared at us, on a very fine Sunday that would have been better spent not glued to a sweaty yellow pew, that no matter what we did after, we were nevertheless doomed to the suffering of Hell, and I thought then, "Then why am I wasting my time with YOU?" and I thus became a question mark.
And have been one ever since. But I never considered that leaning in grammatical terms until I read this, so I thank you. Keep being a question mark. Perhaps being so isn't always happy, and it can be lonely, but I have zero regrets, as I'm assured you must feel.
I found in my religious schooling that they could spot a potential question mark a mile away - and did everything they could to break them. Congrats on surviving them.
Thank you and ditto. Per your response, that is most likely why they burned people as witches, not very long ago, who probably just wanted to be left alone with their animals and herb gardens and not follow the herd. And at least they don't lobotomize people anymore for being "different". We are lucky, still, in many ways today, despite even current monstrosities. Conversion therapy sounds terrible; I'm content that my Baptist family only say that my bisexuality is a "phase" (I'm 40, and have ALWAYS liked girls) without forcing me into unnecessary and traumatizing experiences.
Somewhat aligned story here, C.L., with the southern (Methodist) upbringing, and then I went and got myself into a truly evangelical situation in college. It was so bad my parents demanded I come home and talk to my previous pastor, because they were sure I'd joined a cult. They weren't entirely wrong.
The turning point was a healing service where the EXCLAMATION POINT YELLED some words over a young woman in a wheelchair before asking her to get up and walk. When she couldn't perform, he blamed it on her lack of faith. That was my ah-ha. My "aw, hell no!" moment. How embarrassing that it took me so long.
I learned later that when my mother was 13, in church awaiting her confirmation (or whatever it's called), she chose to stay in the pew when the rest of her class went to the front to "join the church." She wasn't sure she was ready for that and had the self-assurance to sit it out. This would have been 1940. She would absolutely have been burned as a witch.
I thank my lucky stars for the question mark in my DNA.
Oh no, I saw that type of thing, too! A preacher would wave his "jazz fingers" over a woman and assert that the pregnancy she so wanted was SURE to happen. Meanwhile, my surely tween self was all, "So if she gets pregnant, she's now going to attribute that 'miracle' to you?"
Because he assaulted her the night before, and told her God said not to tell.
I had exactly this thought.
A question mark is an evolved exclamation point. It has grown, lost its rigidity, curved and grew.
Okay, risking that this will trigger yesivish ptsd (not my intention!)…in gematria, adam = mah
For those lucky enough not to understand what I just wrote, it’s basically a cute way of saying that human beings are question marks.
Did you just figure that out, or is that a thing? In the psycho-letter-counting world, I mean.
I learned it from Elie Wiesel. Not sure what his source was. But my guess is it’s a thing.
But mah backwards is ham, which is delicious. So eat ham. Sayeth the Lord.
😄
just when i thought i’d heard every gematria there was to know… this one was new to me. now i’ve got that Pulp Fiction scene stuck in my head, the one where Samuel L Jackson says “Say ‘what’ again, I dare you”
This is beautiful. I have nothing further to add.
Signed,
A reformed exclamation point turned question mark
We all need at least one parent who’s a question mark, and preferably the one with a sense of humor.
A basic requirement, yes.
I find that question marks almost always have a sense of humour. I think it goes with the territory. May I add that I’m also partial to being a semicolon at times? As in: taking that studious pause needed to gather myself and calmly sidestep just a bit more, rather than barreling along in an uninterrupted torrent of words.
Yes!
Someone else who uses semicolons. .. At last!
Let’s hear it for the semicolon; I’m a big fan. (On a tangential note, my brother had a section of his colon removed some years back. Of course, I told him he now had a semicolon.)
Less full of shit, too.
😆
I like you! We’re merciless in our family too.
Yes!
This is wonderful.(!)
Two (possibly related) thoughts:
1. A scourge of exclamation points often leaves behind a crop of tender new question marks, like a forest fire fertilizing the soil for fresh growth.
2. If they're not careful, question marks can just be periods in disguise. I've met a lot of people who are pretty smug about how successfully uncertain they are.
I was raised a period by an exclamation point and an inverted question mark. Since my early teens I have been a question mark, much to the chagrin of the exclamation point who raised me.
I enjoyed reading this piece!
Great. I already spend too much time trying to decide if a certain aggressively questioning line of dialogue should be punctuated with a ‘!?’ or a ‘?!’ and now I’m wondering if this is ultimately a problem of identity.
Both of those are probably just an exclamation point holding up a paper question mark mask in front of its face.
Sneaky devils, they are.
?! is an interrobang, I kid you not; best name for a punctuation mark ever.
I like your thinking. Upon reflection, I think I'm a semicolon. I stop and pause alot and often change my mind, but always continue on.
Hi, this is the first time I've read something like this. Loved it! Thank you so much. I'm currently in high school but plan to become a paid subscriber of you when I start earning.
I'm sure there are better places to spend your money, Suraiya. But thanks for the thought.
Wow Glad we didn't analyze your colon
Very funny
That's the least of my troublesome organs, trust me.
Personally I'm the em-dash—always interjecting myself, always wanting to explain my words with more words—it's a trait my editor strongly disapproves of. (You've made me hyper-conscious of all my full stops—as we call them this side of the Atlantic—what will I do now??)
My wife's a Brit - I was considering using "full stop" in the piece but didn't think most would know it.
"My mother was a full stop" is so much better.
After I read this wonderful piece to my wife she spouted on for half an hour about why you are not a question mark...lol..you really got her riled up.
I aspire to question markness. She should try the decaf.
I like the analogy - a semicolon just can’t make up its mind - confused, perhaps.
Fear of commitment. I like them.
And a reminder that the sentence isn’t finished yet.
Alas, I’m not questioning my enthusiasm for this piece
Wonderful. I think Whitman laughed, though. Wasn't there, couldn't say for sure. I'm seldom a period, even if I think I know something. I'm more of an ellipse...
Me too! I always have more to say…