The Fridge is Moving

When I was making my coffee in the office kitchenette, I was told that the fridge is moving. I tried valiantly to hold back a smart comment, but it came out anyway. The fridge itself has no say in the matter, & although it is truthful to say that there will be a fridge in motion, the statement does not accurately express the scenario where the poor thing is being tied down on a trolley & whisked away against its will. Fridges, it should be mentioned, must be sentient, because they always know when to turn the light on for you.

As dramatic as that may sound, it shows one of those imprecisions of the English language that Bourland & Korzybski tried to iron out. Generally, the problem is stated that the Shakespearean “to be” should be frowned upon, but due to the quirks of English, this extends to “am”, “is”, “are”, & various other little words that most people don’t see as being related. Essentially, to say that something “is” something else shows a definition, & should never be used otherwise.

“The fridge is white” is wrong - white is a colour, the fridge is a large appliance; the two are not the same. “The fridge is white in colour (or coloured white)” is much better. This is not nitpicking. This is one of those things where a double meaning for “white” could be clarified. In some places (heaven forbid) “white” means civilised or cultured. The fridge is not these things (& ironically, neither is anyone using the term thus).

The fridge is not moving. The fridge is being moved. The fridge is in a state of motion brought on by outside forces (such as heavy lifting & pushing). The fridge is an inanimate object … & that shows just how hard it is to keep on track. Is that last sentence even true? It certainly seems to be inanimate by the general definition, but there are lots of things “in” it which are quite animate, but let’s not dwell on what grows inside your fridge.

About now, you’re saying “but everyone knows what you mean”, to which I can respond smugly “mostly”. It’s the kind of smugness you might want to plant your fist into, but I stand by it.

People you grew up with or have known for a long time will know what you mean. People who you’ve never met (or never will), or who come from a different culture (English speaking or not) can get very confused when you use the kind of short-hand that has a fridge growing legs & wandering along the corridor in search of a spare power point with a better view. My apologies to Terry Pratchett’s excellent description of luggage with this capability.

Thus we reach a nice segue-way into how comedians thrive on just this kind of linguistic trickery to make you believe you know exactly what they mean, & then shoot off in an entirely different direction with a context switch that leaves your brain feeling like a five-year-old left behind at the ice cream factory on a school excursion, with the sudden realisation that there is definitely a funny side to the situation (thus you laugh).

I do not want to put comedians out of work, so I’ll magnanimously allow the language to stand with its imprecisions. There are many comedians I don’t like to encourage, but in a way they are all doing exactly what I do - pointing out the limitations of our everyday way of thinking, through the use of satire & verbal prestidigitation, to give us moments of clarity & self-awareness that shock the brain into seeing the world in a different way. The world is not necessarily better after this transformation, but it makes us look at things again in case we missed something the first few hundred times.

Personally, I have to go looking for the milk, because apparently the fridge is moving.