There’s a certain kind of English speaker who doesn’t simply talk — they brace for impact. Every sentence they utter is a battlefield where correctness must be defended at all costs. These are the proud members of what I call The Cult of Ultra‑Correctness, a group so terrified of sounding uneducated that they end up sounding like malfunctioning Victorian butlers.
You can spot them instantly. They’re the ones who say:
“Between you and I…”
with the same smug confidence as someone who just solved a crossword puzzle in pen. They believe “me” is a grammatical swear word, something only barbarians use. They’ve been conditioned since childhood to think that I = fancy and me = wrong, so they apply “I” everywhere like a nervous tic.
But ultra‑correctness doesn’t stop there. Oh no. It metastasizes.
These people collect incorrect “correctness” the way squirrels collect acorns. They hoard them, polish them, and deploy them proudly in conversation, unaware that each one is a linguistic banana peel.
And here — embedded right in the middle of this story, exactly as you asked — is the Ultra‑Correctness Snort List, the sacred scripture of their misguided faith:
- Between you and I
- Whom did you say was coming?
- It is I
- Whom shall I thank?
- As per your request
- I feel badly
- Whomsoever it may concern
- The object they loved so well
- Irregardless
- Firstly, secondly, thirdly
- Whomever wants one can take one
- Myself will handle it
- I shall do that
- Whom are you talking about?
There they are. A museum of linguistic misfires. A parade of grammatical peacocks strutting proudly while trailing toilet paper on their shoes.
The Cult of Ultra‑Correctness doesn’t understand that language is supposed to be alive. It’s supposed to breathe, bend, adapt, and occasionally wear sweatpants. But ultra‑correct people don’t want living language. They want embalmed language — stiff, preserved, and displayed behind glass.
They don’t speak to communicate. They speak to avoid being wrong.
And ironically, that’s exactly what makes them wrong.
So the next time someone says:
“Between you and I…”
or
“the object they loved so well…”
just smile. You’ve encountered a pilgrim of the Cult. They’re trying so hard to be proper that they’ve looped all the way around to being incorrect.
And between you and me — that’s the funniest part of all.
