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Dear Grammar Police . . .

Dear Grammar Police,

After 15 years of blogging, writing and podcasting, I feel it is time to take a stand. It never ceases to amaze me how prosaic, pedestrian, unimaginative people can persistently pontificate about classical grammatical structure as though it’s neurosurgery or rocket science. I assume you, grammar police, are the same people who hated Picasso, because he couldn’t keep the paint inside the lines and the colors never matched the numbers. You must be related to those who imprisoned Galileo for heresy, implying that the Earth was not the center of the universe. It is one thing to enjoy good prose, but it is completely different to publicly deride someone about misplacing a coma or misspelling a word.

Most of my posts and articles are written after a very long day. I do all my own writing. No one pays me for it. It is done because I care. In my effort to provide a principle and a concept that will dramatically change one’s health, I may miss the misspelled word or inappropriately conjugate my verb.

I will admit that I’ve had my fair share of “its” instead of “it’s,” and I’ve spelled many a word wrong at 12:32 AM. But, I’m not performing surgery. (I’ll admit that I’ve never left the “i” out of public before.) The fact that I actually publish loads of FREE articles and videos after working 16-18 hour days, taking care of thousands of patients, should be enough to receive a simple “Thank you, Dr. Nally.”

But, NO! The grammar police attack and tell me on a regular basis how terrible I am because I spelled supplement with an “a” or my i-phone’s auto correct changed “there” to “their.”

Grammar Police

It seams that I usually get my point across about health and diet, because the inspectors of the written word tell me that my grammar or punctuation or spelling needs to align with the clearly understood point I attempted to write. In fact, they will print the information off and bring it to my office… with corrections in red pen, mind you.

I realize that in the pompous minds of the “Word Nazi’s” those of us who misspell or incorrectly conjugate our written prose lose credibility. Do I need your pedantic pompous credibility? Not really. These are often the same people who won’t take my medical advise, even though their version of a vegan diet is causing progressive obesity, hypertension and vascular disease.

You don’t own the words. You don’t have the right to mock and deride people for misplacing a coma. The free use of words, is not elitist and is not governed by you. To my recollection, I never voted for a “Word Sheriff.”

Many of you are English teachers, editors, or experts in the fields of writing. Do you write to me to help me construct my prose more effectively?

I think not.

I say that because, your letters are publicly posted and laced with sarcasm, derision and some of the rudest comments I’ve ever read. I am an expert in field of obesity and weight loss, yet, I don’t run up to you, or a stranger for that matter, when I see you in Wal-Mart buying cereal or donuts and yell, “Don’t eat that… you’re already FAT!”

Do I stand by the McDonald’s drive-through and criticize you for buying French fries?


So why do you think you have the right to pedantically cast stones at my prose when I’ve never met you, and I have never solicited your advise? What gives you the right to whip out your sharpie and feel obligated to perform the equivalent of derisive graffiti on my prose? Your unsolicited public criticism of my “wordsmithing” is the equivalent of calling me “FAT” in public.

I see language like music, it has the ability to be modified, twisted and accented to tickle, tantalize and tease the reader by the creation of emotion. But you wouldn’t understand that, because you’re too busy worrying that my misuse of an apostrophe when I wrote “donuts” might cause a puppy to die.

If I turn a noun into a verb for the sake of fun, or to stir emotion, don’t have a conniption! Shakespeare is famous for this, he did it all the time. If you can’t hack it, then table my blog for another time when you have matured enough to chair your emotions. (See, it wasn’t that painful, was it?)

To be honest, I’m really uninterested in your opinions about my prose . . . or should I say disinterested just to piss you off?