Most people who know me are aware that I am prey to many and varied irrational enthusiasms and loathings. When it comes to punctuation (a subject that, of course, everyone feels desperately strongly about!), I am a vocal advocate of the serial (or Oxford) comma and a deadly foe of the unnecessary (often called the grocer's) apostrophe ("we sell orange's and lemon's.")
Like the persistent inappropriate use of the subjective case ("he gave the document to George and I"), persistent inappropriate use of the apostrophe indicates a sort of harassed sensibility of "I know I'm not doing something right, but I'm not sure what, so I'll just do the opposite of what comes naturally." Instead of taking the (relatively short amount of) time to learn how to do something right, the user is doing something different, repetitively and intransigently. To me, this says, "I am not only poorly educated, but I am also stubborn and refuse to make even a small effort to learn."
I have a tiny bit of sympathy (though only a tiny bit) for those who use it with acronyms (at least in America, where we still put them in all caps; of the decadent UK, where they have thrown away all decency and humanity and strip their acronyms of their caps, I cannot speak--it is too painful). Obviously, such words have something different about them, and I can understand the clumsy thought process of the prehistoric brain trickling along "It's different. So, when I make it plural--shouldn't that be different too?" But no, Piltdown Man (and Woman): if you put one PATRIOT missile next to another PATRIOT missile, you do not have two PATRIOT's, just two PATRIOTs. Trust me--you're overthinking this, and thinking is clearly not your long suit.
So, how sad does it make me, browsing
the latest entry in J.L. Bell's Boston 1775 blog (the blog that makes me want to be a professional historian every time I read it) to see our Great Leader, the Chairman Mao of the USA of A, writing to a fellow officer during the Revolution:
It is unnecessary for me to observe to you, the multiplicity of business I am Involved In—the number of Letters, Orders, & Instruction’s I have to write—
Oh, ouch! General, my general, did you have to do that? But, you know, they just had different sensibilities about these things in the 18th century. After all, if one looks at the paragraph as a whole, there is enough grammatical disorder and mayhem there to set an entire schoolroom full of English teachers fainting and reaching for the spirits of hartshorn.
It is unnecessary for me to observe to you, the multiplicity of business I am Involved In—the number of Letters, Orders, & Instruction’s I have to write—with many other matters which call loudly for Aids that are ready Pen-men—I have long waited in exasperation of Colo. Reeds return, but now despair of it. Randolph who was also ready at his Pen, leaves me little room to expect him; my business in short, will not allow me to wait, as I have none but Mr. Harrison (for Mr. Moylan must be call’d of to attend his duty as Commissary of Musters) who can afford me much assistance in that way, and he, in case Colo. Reed should not return, has the promise of succeeding him.
An unnecessary apostrophe in one line, and the screaming absence of a needed on in the next. We won't even discuss the spelling and the unnecessary capitalisation. Yes, General Washington, yes, you do need a new secretary. Soon.
In all good humour, gentle readers, allow me to remain, your humble and obedient &c.