Here I sit with a splitting headache, but I am still going to rant and rave, yet again, although not about how people today are abusing the Mother Tongue but how they are abusing her distant cousin, Mr. Comma.

What inspired this blog was something a student said the other day after I returned a graded paper to her, a paper wherein I had commented upon her continual misuse of the lowly little comma or, in other cases, her continual overuse of the lowly little comma.

This student—whom I will from this point forward refer to as “Susie” so I won’t have to continue repeating “student”—pursed her Angelina-Jolie lips into even more of a defined pout and said, “I’ve always been told it’s up to the writer to decide when they want to use a comma; and if they’re in the mood, that’s reason enough.”

Reason enough? I rocked back on my heels and impaled Susie with my most myopically intimidating stare. “Susie,” I said, “exactly who told you this?”

She tossed her blonde curls becomingly as she replied, “My high school English teacher, that’s who, Mrs. _________ (Name withheld to protect the guilty).”

“Well, Susie,” I said, “I don’t know where Mrs. ___________ received her education, but it obviously wasn’t an accredited university.”

Susie said, “I ain’t sure where Mrs. ___________ went to school, but she graduated, else she couldn’t of been teaching us English.”

I wasn’t so sure about that, but I bit back a rejoinder and simply said, “There are ten hard-and-fast rules that govern one’s usage of the punctuation mark known as the comma; and not one of those rules says, ‘Use a comma whenever the mood strikes you.’”

“Maybe there ain’t a rule,” she said, “but everybody knows it’s true.”

They do? I thought, then why was I not aware of this universal tidbit of wisdom?

Susie added, “It’s like that other rule.”

“What other rule?” I made the mistake of asking.

“You know, the one about inserting a comma when you pause.”

“Pause for what? A trip to the bathroom or perhaps a cup of coffee?”

Looking perplexed for approximately a second, Susie then said, “You’re joking, right?”

“No,” I assured her. “Ms. Carol does not jest when it comes to the English language.”

“Whatever,” she said, shrugging indifferently. “Besides, who cares?” She glanced at her dainty gold watch. “Look, I gotta run. Gonna go lay in the tanning booth. See, my boyfriend’s taking me to this totally awesome new club this weekend. I gotta have a tan by then so I’ll look hot in my new dress. You oughta see it. It’s like . . . like totally awesome.”

I watched Susie then sashay from my office, and as she disappeared from view, I heard her words echoing in my mind: “Besides, who cares?”

And therein lies the problem. No one cares, especially the majority of today’s students. They honestly believe they should be able to write any way they please; and I am not referring merely to comma usage; I am referring to writing in general. Most students write with the same reckless abandon and disregard for rules as they demonstrate in their everyday speech. In other words, they assassinate the English language. But do they allow our poor Mother Tongue to rest in peace? No, instead, students resurrect her each and every morning so they can have the pleasure of slaughtering her all over again—day in and day out, week in and week out, year in and year out, ad nauseam—along with all her kinfolks, including her distant cousin, Mr. Comma.