May 11, 2016 3 min read

Language is a skill, and no matter how educated or careful speakers may be, mistakes are made. The writers and editors at this newspaper are no different than anyone else, except that their errors are printed on paper and posted online for all to see.

We wince and cringe when we read a headline like, “With Trump as its nominee, the Republican Party has dugs its own grave,” which was in Monday’s edition. Gaffes like this make us wonder why there’s sometimes a disconnection between our brains and our lips, eyes and fingertips on the keyboard.

Language errors can be funny, however. Take the mixed metaphor.

A metaphor is a figure of speech in which something is regarded as symbolic of, or is compared to, something else. For example, to be on the same page with someone does not mean to be literally reading a page of written material simultaneously with someone else; it means simply to be in agreement. Similarly, getting your ducks in a row means to organize things in a specific order.

A problem arises when we try to “get all our ducks on the same page.”

That’s what’s called a mixed metaphor.

Messages can be not just humorous but confusing when you’re told to “step up to the plate and put your cards on the table,” or to “take a flying hike.”

Two metaphors collided in last Friday’s edition of the paper in a story about the Tri-County Joint Municipal Authority’s effort to remove trihalomethanes from the public water supply. John Poister, a spokesman for the state Department of Environmental Protection, was quoted as saying, “They have a big hill to climb out of.”

Hillary Clinton is guilty of metaphoracide for a recent comment about her fellow presidential aspirant, Donald Trump. When she said he “is a loose cannon, and loose cannons tend to misfire,” she didn’t so much as mix the metaphor as misunderstand it.

A “loose cannon” is widely understood to be an unpredictable person or thing, liable to cause damage if not kept in check by others. The Phrase Finder website cites this origin of the expression: “From the 17th century to the 19th century, wooden warships carried cannon as their primary offensive weapons. In order to avoid damage from their enormous recoil when fired they were mounted on rollers and secured with rope. A loose cannon was just what it sounds like, that is, a cannon that had become free of its restraints and was rolling dangerously about the deck.”

The loose cannon tended to smash into things and sailors as the ship pitched in the waves, its damage done by its enormous weight, not by being unable to fire.

As Victor Hugo wrote in his novel “Ninety Three”: “The carronade, hurled forward by the pitching, dashed into this knot of men, and crushed four at the first blow; then, flung back and shot out anew by the rolling, it cut in two a fifth poor fellow… The enormous cannon was left alone. She was given up to herself. She was her own mistress, and mistress of the vessel. She could do what she willed with both.”

Clinton might want to drop the “loose cannon” reference and consider another for her rival. We’ll be waiting to hear about the “wolf in emperor’s new clothing.”