I, the undersigned, agree to receive in confidence full details about the personal life, history, and prospects for continued interaction with the individual known as “[XYZ]”.
It is further understood that I assume no responsibility whatever with respect to features and defects of “[XYZ]” which can be demonstrated to have been known to me prior to this interaction. I also agree not to divulge any details of said interaction without permission of “[XYZ]” or to make use of any information of which the said “[XYZ]” is the originator, without payment or compensation to be fixed by negotiation with the said “[XYZ]” or its lawful representative.
It is specifically understood that, in receiving the information concerning “[XYZ]”, the information is being received and will be reviewed in confidence and that, within a period of  days, I will report to “[XYZ]” the results of my findings and will advise whether or not I am interested in participating in the development of said relationship. I understand that the idea of the relationship is the copyright property of “[XYZ]”
Signature_______________________ Date ________________
Accepted Date _______________________________
[Ed. Note: The idea for NDA and Non-Compete agreements for dating came up tonight during a dinner conversation. I was surprised that Google didn't have anything for "Dating NDA" so I put together the document above, based on existing boilerplate, in hopes that it might be useful in the launching of new romantic ventures.]
I got a laugh out of the Ultimate Rejection Letter signed by Chris L. Jensen that’s been circulating on the net. Here is my one-sentence take-off on the idea:
I regret to inform you that I reject your anticipated rejection of this rejection of your rejection of my application, and will therefore be delighted to accept the position starting in January.
Would you like to know whether you have the capacity to perceive and express irony?
Look at the symbol below:
If it appears like a reversed question mark:
…then congratulations, you’re all set for irony.
If it looks like anything else–a blank space, a normal question mark (?), or anything in a box:
…then I’m sorry, no irony for you!
[Confused? Scroll down for an explanation.]
What this test actually indicates is whether your browser is properly rendering the irony mark, also known as the reversed question mark, Unicode character U+2E2E.
The first example is the actual character for your browser to render, the second example is a screenshot of how it should look, and the third example is a screenshot of how it might look if your browser can’t render it.
Of course, the challenge of communicating ironic sentiments is that not everyone perceives them the same way. You might not “see” the irony that I see in something, just as I might not see the irony you see. The irony mark attempts to solve that, by signaling to a reader to look out, “there’s irony here.”
Isn’t it fitting that the irony mark itself–the symbol that aims to disambiguate ironic communication–is invisible to some readers? Try to use the irony mark in an online forum, and you have no way of knowing whether the people “on the other end” will see the backwards question mark that you see, or a rectangle, or a blank. I leave it to you to contemplate the irony of that…
So far, my experience has been that Mac users are more likely to perceive irony than Windows users. If you’ve taken this test, please leave a comment with your platform details (operating system and browser versions) letting me know whether or not you perceive irony. Thank you very much!
Many readers know that the expression “italics mine” is used in formal writing when the author has added italics to quoted text. It’s a courteous way to say that the italics weren’t there in the original– courteous to the reader (who might otherwise be confused) and courteous to the original author (who would otherwise be… misquoted). Some time ago, this phrase began sounding decidedly uncourteous in my mind. I had always heard something like this: “I would like to fulfill my responsibility to inform you that I’ve added these italics.” But suddenly I heard, “I OWN these italics — they’re mine!” And once “italics mine” had revealed this surly potential, I could not go back to thinking of it as its polite and dutiful self. So now when I’m in a quiet library, I imagine a cacophony of all the instances of “italics mine,” shouting out from within their respective books, competing for ownership of all italics: Mine! Mine! Mine! Above, you have a self-referential example where the italic text asserts possession of itself.
How could it possibly confuse you⸮ The irony mark makes everything clear⸮
If you didn’t get it, I’ve just expressed two ironic thoughts about a symbol called the irony mark, written as a reversed question mark. The symbol is meant to indicate the presence of irony or sarcasm, qualities that are not always obvious to all parties in an exchange.
While its aim is to add clarity to communication, the symbol introduces various kinds of ambiguity; the symbol itself is ironic because it achieves the opposite of its apparent goal. In a separate post, I will explore that paradox; here, I would just like to propose a “fix” to one small aspect of the irony mark’s ambiguity.
The problem I have in mind is that the irony mark does not distinguish between statements and questions. You’ll notice that I began this post with an ironic question: “How could it possibly confuse you⸮” Next, I made an ironic statement: “The irony mark makes everything clear⸮” In both cases I was “forced” to terminate my sentence with the same piece of punctuation. As you can see, the irony mark has clobbered the reassuring distinction between “?” and “.”
To prevent such ambiguity, I propose that we reserve the irony mark for statements, and splice the irony mark with a normal question mark to indicate questions.
My logic is as follows:
This, for example, is how one would ask an ironic question about the presence of irony:
And this is how one would sarcastically question my font choice:
This post is about a treacherous piece of punctuation called the irony mark. You might never have heard of this symbol, but it dates back to the 1580s. It is written as a reversed question mark, and it is meant to indicate irony and/or sarcasm.
To introduce the irony mark, I’ve come up with a one-line manifesto for the product, the best sales pitch I can think of. So, here is the #1 reason why you should place the irony mark at the end of your sentences:
If that leaves you cold, I offer another condensation of the philosophy behind the irony mark:
At this point, I’d like to make a few things explicit:
- You might notice that I seem to be conflating irony and sarcasm. Don’t mind me, I’m just being sarcastic.
- You might wonder whether the slogans above are meant to be sarcastic. Of course they are—they end with the irony mark!
- You might wonder whether I’m making fun of the idea of the irony mark. I’m NOT making fun of the irony mark.
Well, I am teasing the irony mark, a little. But I’m only doing it because I want the irony mark. I’d give anything for an effortless way of signaling to perfect strangers that I’m being ironic. Bliss, to me, would be knowing that whenever I wrote something with a double, triple, or quadruple meaning, my reader would see all of those meanings and select the right one. Unfortunately, the joke’s on me. The irony mark has taken me for a ride.
Please look again at the image above. Do you see an irony mark at the end of the sentence? When I first published that image, I thought I’d gotten it wrong. I stared at it once, and then a second time, and I swear the irony mark appeared to me as a normal question mark:
I was mortified, because my joke about “not teasing” the irony mark would have fallen flat without a real irony mark at the end… to be teased.
I needed to stare at a proper question mark for several seconds before I could perceive the irony mark as an irony mark again. Later, I experienced the same illusion: the irony mark flipped into a question mark!
And so I leave you with this warning message about the irony mark, showing where it’s gotten me—this is my brain on the irony mark:
If it ain’t got the irony mark, it ain’t got the irony⸮
Sarcasm must be punctuated⸮
I’m not making fun of the irony mark⸮
This Christmas, I thought it would be a good idea to sublimate some of my holiday cheer into a welcome plaque for my home–a greeting for the front door–and here is the result of that effort:
How did I arrive at this particular expression of hospitality? Since I lack the Hallmark gene, I needed to find the text for my plaque in an external source. I was inspired by a sign that I’ve noticed almost every day since I began living near the Boston Harbor Shipyard and Marina. This sign appears at the shipyard’s security gate, and in that prominent spot, it is a recurring visual prelude to all of the many things one might do inside: take a walk on the pier, ogle the yachts and houseboats, visit the outdoor sculpture garden, sign up for scuba lessons, grab a bite to eat at the Aussie restaurant KO, or watch a cargo ship being repaired:
The sign is so familiar to me by now that, in a twisted way, it really does signal “home.”
So who wrote that scintillating text? A quick search leads to this section from the Code of Federal Regulations:
Title 33 – Navigation and Navigable Waters. CHAPTER I – COAST GUARD, DEPARTMENT OF HOMELAND SECURITY. SUBCHAPTER H – MARITIME SECURITY. PART 105 – MARITIME SECURITY: FACILITIES. Subpart B – Facility Security Requirements.
The code states that all facilities operating at MARSEC (Marine Security) Level 1 must decorate as follows:
Conspicuously post signs that describe security measures currently in effect and clearly state that:
(i) Entering the facility is deemed valid consent to screening or inspection; and (ii) Failure to consent or submit to screening or inspection will result in denial or revocation of authorization to enter;
Notice that the code only specifies the points to be conveyed but does not mandate any specific wording. Nevertheless, the makers of the sign at Boston Harbor Shipyard took this text verbatim from the CFR, not even changing the phrase “Entering the facility” to “Entering this facility.” Their only customizations were to remove the (i) and (ii), replace the trailing semicolon with a period, and engage the caps lock key.
For my own plaque, I thought a friendlier font was in order so I chose the very gracious Janda Celebration Script by Kimberly Geswein. Minimalists may prefer the version I offered above, but here is a second version–my personal favorite, as it is enhanced by 25 butterflies, 5 swans, and 19 floral ornaments:
And here it is on the wall: