Mine English Empery

For those of you who know me, as some of you are already woefully ruing, I am a sesquipedalian bibliophile. Moreover, I am a traditionalist, an imperialist and a very shrewd grammarian. I am also seeking to become a discerning dialectician, although with the advent of globalisation, I fear that a lot (if not most) of the richness of any language will be lost with the death of its dialectic diversity.
And as some of you may be keen to guess, I was not always like this. There was a time when I (or rather, the physical origins of my body) was a single cell in the womb of my mother, mindlessly multiplying into the multi-cellular organism I am today.
But as for my linguistic history (as I'm sure you're all dying to know), I was born and raised in Toronto, Canada, a predominantly English-speaking nation. However, being born to parents of foreign birth, the English tongue was not introduced to my linguistic faculties until I was nigh six years of age. So, with a willful and determined mind (something I've seem to have lost since), I sought to learn the rudiments of English speech and spelling. I still remember to this day, the first book I was able to read on my own, as well as the first word with which I had trouble pronouncing. The book was called Hello House, and it was about this rabbit who would always manage to thwart his predator wolf. The word I had trouble reading was "house". I would first try to read it was "hoe-wu-ss". Come to think of it, I should have been raised in German; at least it's phonetic. ("Bearbeit", for example, is pronounced be-ar-bite.)
Now I was the proud owner of a set of phonetic rules of the English language, so I set out to devour as much as I could with these new tools. I read, and I read and I read. I read so much, in fact, at such a speed, that when I was placed in the "advanced reading circle", my peers there in the second grade were in disbelief that I finished reading about twice or even thrice as fast as they did.
And I wasn't a picky reader either back then. As a child with virtually no power or lnfluence, it was natural for those of my demographic (at the time) to be enticed by the concept of a skill and science that would enable the user power and persuasion. And what was that? Magic. Or more generally, fantasy.
Not to say that I dislike fantasy now, but just simply that I had no taste for literature when I was a child. Novels? They were long, but boring and dry. Who would want to read Pride and Prejudice? There were no dragons in it!
And as time waned by, after my succession of old and soon-to-be retiring teachers (with all their strict and stern rules of grammar and writing), I naturally developed a strong sense of language, that has been growing ever since (especially now with my introductory education into linguistics).
Now, by no means do I claim to be an expert on language. Granted, my interests in grammar and language are not shared by many of my age (or even by those one or two generations above me), and so by virtue of being interested in something most aren't, I automatically seem to become a leading authority on the subject. But, for example, I still don't know what a "dangling modifier" is, even though I've heard that grammatical term many times before. What are the six cases for all nouns? Nominative, accusative, dative, genitive, ablative and vocative. But what do they all mean? I've no idea what the ablative is, though after making this post, I'm of a mind to find out.
So yes, my knowledge of the English language (or of any language) is terribly incomplete, and I fear will always be so, if only because of a certain curséd fact that languages live, and are always changing.
But, I do intend to (eventually) earn my PhD in linguistics, after which I hope to teach class in university and have my nerves wracked after every class from the new generation of youth with their staggeringly incomplete and imperfect grammar.
So there you have it, the abbreviated, linguistic life and times of Joseph Tam.
Oh, and I should add that though my language has not always been as it is, I was always raised in that standard.
And although I do enjoy editing your essays (in which I hope I'm helping a friend), please have the decency to do three things (these courtesies which should be extended to any peer editor):

1. Attach a copy of the assignment so that the editor (i.e. I) have a better idea what the essay is supposed to address.
2. Allow yourself the time to go through your finished essay once before tossing it in my direction, expecting me to up its grade by 20%. While I do find the natural and subconcious errors of language intriguing, I would rather analyse those for my thesis than having to cut through them in a vain attempt to glean what you mean to say.
3. Give me at least two days to edit your essay. Especially if you know your English to be particularly weak (e.g. non-native speaker, or not very well-read, etc), certain awkward phrasing that you invent will take me a little more time than 20 minutes to phrase and re-phrase into a better, natural sentence.

So that's my English rant for the day. Don't flame me for any small error I make; I myself acknowledge that we're all human, and that we're all prone to error. I'm just a stickler for certain things because I find them to be very basic and rudinmentary. If, for example, in a friendly, casual conversation, someone says "protractor" when they mean "compass", I'll let it slide. But other howling errors (such as the redundancy contained in "from whence did you come") I will be more quick to correct.

What was the point of this post? I don't remember any more. That just goes to show what a good writer I am. Ha-ha.

Totally irrelevant, but here's a quote I found immensely hilarious:
"You don't die of heart-break; you only wish you did."