Technologies are beginning to blend our experience of digital and physical realities. We exchange data (images, videos, messages, etc.), present ourselves to the rest of the world on social media, network, and even perform a larger number of tasks than in person. As our world and ways of life keep on changing, so do words. The aim of this article is to examine the coinage of blends (i.e. smog-type [<smoke + fog] words) as a response to the blended realities that have emerged from the use of new technologies.

When I launched an online survey last December with the aim of learning about people's practices of looking up usage advice, I anticipated that searching for answers to grammar questions would not differ considerably from what are currently most common practices in searching for any kind of information. The answers are, as a rule, simply looked up online. From a group of 189 respondents, among whom the majority were university-educated language professionals such as linguists, editors, journalists and translators, more than half reported that they preferred consulting online rather than printed sources. The respondents below the age of 25 who reported looking up usage advice in printed books were few and far between (11%). The question that can be consequently raised is what implications this finding has for the future of the printed usage advice literature, which includes usage guides, all-in-one reference books we are researching in the context of the Bridging the Unbridgeable project. What is more, the number of sources that are available on the Internet is growing exponentially, and we need to probe more deeply into the matter to ask which of the available sources are in fact consulted.

Every now and then one stumbles across complaints about the decaying state of the English language. British English is under threat from American English. English is dying or just on the verge of drawing its last breath. Recurring allegations similar to these are made by worried, albeit self-opinionated, speakers who are not only quick to declare the time of death of English, but also to point the finger at who they think is to blame for these developments. As part of my PhD project on usage attitudes in British English, I included the somewhat general question ‘What do you think about the state of the English language?” in an online questionnaire which was completed by 230 informants from Great Britain in order to obtain an insight into commonly held beliefs about British English. This particular question generated answers from 176 informants who shared their personal beliefs, or rather fears, about the state of the English language. In this article, I would like to share some of the insights gained through the preliminary analysis of these answers and invite you to contribute by completing a survey on this topic.

The world is shrinking – globalization has been one of the main forces transforming today's life patterns. One of its manifestations, one that has proliferated substantially to what was customary just a few decades ago, is global travel, in various forms and for various purposes – and one of the most important ones of these purposes is tourism. The opportunity and the infrastructure to travel to interesting places pretty much anywhere fairly easily and at affordable prices has been bringing people to all corners of the world. Admittedly, the word ‘affordable’ in this sentence refers predominantly to people from developed, industrialized, wealthy countries, so socially this is a skewed and selective process. But the fact as such remains, and it has important ramifications for and adds new facets to the forms and functions of global English.

An abstract is a brief summary of a research paper, review or conference proceeding, which can be considered as a sub-register of academic writing and is often used to help readers quickly ascertain the paper's purpose, thesis, main results and conclusions. With the development of international academic communication, English abstracts play an increasingly vital role in international publishing and academic papers, being the basis for international academic citation indexes. UNESCO prescribes that all published scientific articles, no matter in which language, require a succinct English abstract. Most literature database search engines, such as the EI index, only display abstracts rather than providing the full text of the paper. Since an unsuccessful English abstract would be detrimental to the whole paper as well as to the general quality of the journal, no academic authors would want to lower their guard. In this context, the study of linguistic features of academic abstracts has attracted more and more attention of EAP scholars. The studies on English abstracts in China mainly focus on the writing paradigm as well as such linguistic features as stylistics, textual coherence, grammatical patterns, tense, voice and usage of prepositions (Xiong, 2002; Li et al, 2004; Wang, 2005; Fan, 2006; Li, 2008; He & Cao, 2010).

One of the recent trends in Korean English Language Teaching (ELT) is that Korean parents are sending their children to countries in which English is a second language (ESL). Among these countries, the Philippines is the most preferred country due to its low tuition costs, low cost of living, and a population of well-educated ESL teachers. Every year, approximately 30,000 Korean students study in universities, elementary and secondary schools, and language academies in the Philippines. 10% of this student population consists of student visa holders and 90% are Special Study Permit (SSP) holders. SSPs are issued to international students studying non-degree special courses for a period not exceeding one year, and 90% of Korean students are presumed to enroll on short-term intensive English programs. The exodus of Koreans to the Philippines to learn English is being led by private language academies, which are founded and run by Koreans, solely targeting Korean students. In 2011, the number of such private language academies was estimated to be 280 (Kim, 2011). Furthermore, it was reported that Korean students were spending over 425 million US dollars annually in the Philippines (KEDI, 2012).

Integration is usually seen as one process, and language proficiency is often defined as the key to it. In this brief essay, I argue that integration consists of multiple very different processes of a highly specific nature, requiring highly specific register-genre competences. The endpoint of integration, and the usefulness of language therein, consists of happiness: a range of experience of adequacy and satisfaction in highly diverse social milieux.

In the last issue of English Today I argued that while the differences between American and British English may be small, they are innumerable, varied and interesting. But that article (and many of the things I write) invited the question of whether it even makes sense to talk of American English and British English. These labels are extremely problematic on geographic, linguistic and political grounds. Are we justified in using such sloppy terminology? Shouldn't linguists like me know better? Let's look the problems of nomenclature, starting with the eastern side of the Atlantic.

College English refers to a type of English course offered to non-English majors at tertiary level in mainland China. In recent years, however, College English has been criticised as ‘deaf and dumb English’ (Wu, 2004; Zhang, 2002) because of Chinese students’ perceived weaknesses in listening and speaking. As Zhang (2002), Director of the Department of Higher Education in the Chinese Ministry of Education (MOE), explains, ‘Chinese university students can neither speak English nor understand it when they hear the language spoken’ (p. 4). To improve the situation, Zhang urges that ‘[w]hile reading has to be reduced properly, listening and speaking should be increased in College English textbooks’ (ibid.: 5). In other words, it is listening and speaking rather than reading that should be emphasised.

In the first article in this series (Murphy 2016), I recounted Geoff Pullum's (2014) dismissal of British-American linguistic differences as ‘mostly nouns’. From a theoretical linguist's position, nouns can seem simpler and less interesting than other parts of speech, since concrete noun senses are fairly self-contained. Compare a noun like cup to an adjective like big. You can picture a cup in and of itself, but in imagining big we need to think about things that could be big. And what we mean by big changes depending on which thing we are talking about. Since the meaning of cup does not have to interact with other words in order to get its meaning, investigating concrete nouns is a low priority for many linguistic semanticists. It can be ‘difficult to distinguish where the discussion of a noun's sense stops and where discussion of its extension (the things it refers to) begins’ (Murphy 2010: 149), and so that aspect of meaning is often left to philosophers and psychologists: What does love mean, really? or How do you know which things to call green?

The city of Medellín, Colombia's second largest, impresses the visitor. What was once the most dangerous city in the world has gone through a metamorphosis since drug lord Pablo Escobar's death in 1993. Indeed, in 2013, Medellín was named the World's Most Innovative City by the Wall Street Journal and the Urban Land Institute (ULI). ‘Few cities have transformed the way that Medellín… has in the past 20 years' reads the ULI's explanation (Wall Street Journal, 2013, online). Medellín is now poised to move forward with its innovative infrastructure projects, and looks to position itself as a center of international business, technology, and education (Alexander, 2015). One of the ways in which this new international outlook manifests itself is in the ever-increasing use of English in various areas of public life, notably in advertising and in shop names. Accordingly, this study explores and describes the use of English in shop names in a cross section of commercial areas in Medellín. First, we consider the use of English shop names in four shopping malls that serve customers from a variety of socioeconomic strata. Note that our use of ‘shop’ refers not only to stores but also restaurants, bars, travel agencies, and any other commercial enterprise. Second, we look at four public commercial corridors (retail streets or demarcated zones) in metropolitan Medellín through a similar lens. From these two commercial venues, we find that English use is common in Medellín's retail landscape and that it increases as the socioeconomic status of the target consumers increases.

The beginning of this new century has witnessed two important events in English language education in China. The first is the expansion of English language education into the primary curriculum. In 2001, the Chinese Ministry of Education (MOE) required that primary schools located in cities and county seats start to offer English classes at Primary 3 from the autumn of 2001 and that the rest start to do so in the following year (MOE, 2001). The second is the increase of enrolment in various types of Chinese colleges and universities. For example, in 1999 the number of students enrolled in Chinese higher education was six million, but it rose to over 20 million in 2004 (Jin & Cortazzi, 2006). Such a rapid development of English language education has resulted in a number of difficulties and challenges for EFL teaching in China, but the most serious constraint comes from the lack of qualified teachers (Rao, 2010). To compensate for the shortage of English teachers, many Chinese schools are endeavoring to attract more native-English-speaking teachers (henceforth NESTs) to fill up EFL teaching vacancies. In 2006, for example, there were 150,000 foreign EFL teachers working in China (Jeon & Lee, 2006).

The word however is an adverb and an adverb alone. The current online Oxford (Oxford English Dictionary Online, n.d.) and Cambridge (Cambridge English Dictionary Online, n.d. a) English dictionaries both have it listed solely as an adverb for British English. At the risk of awakening yet another descriptivist versus prescriptivist war, it must however be acknowledged that however is often used as a conjunction. This can, and frequently does, lead to confusion though, as the reader has to read on before realising that in fact that however was actually being used as a conjunction (or ‘connective’ in modern grammatical parlance). ‘However the cat walked down the street …’ surely has the reader thinking something along the lines of ‘In whatever manner the cat walked down the street …’ But a typical case of what I shall in this article call conjunctive howeveritis would reveal a complete (well, incomplete actually) sentence along the lines of, ‘However the cat walked down the street, even though it rarely ventured from the house.’ Not only are we now left with a sentence fragment, but in such an instance the reader would have to backtrack and subsequently assume the However was in fact being used as a coordinating conjunction. To me this is inefficient and an enemy of lucid writing. The Cambridge English Dictionary raises the warning flag high with the following example (Cambridge English Dictionary Online, n.d. b):

Warning:
We can't use however as a conjunction instead of but to connect words and phrases:
My teacher is very nice but a bit strict.
Not:
My teacher is very nice however a bit strict.

This article is about a small group of words in English, ones beginning with the prefix <de->, followed by <s> and a vowel. If we omit rare words and obvious derivations, we end up with the following list:

In the previous issue of English Today, Lukač (2016) discusses the increasingly important role of online language authorities for users of the internet who are looking for usage advice. However, prescriptivism also reaches these users when they are not actively looking for it. They encounter advice in newsfeeds in different social media, such as Twitter and Facebook, and some of them join online groups to discuss usage problems. The standard language ideology seems to have established itself firmly on these new platforms, adapting itself in the process. Articles on usage shared on social media are almost without exception in the form of lists with eye-catching ‘clickbaity’ titles (e.g. ‘7 Grammar Mistakes That Make You Look Dumb’), and their most important topics differ strongly from those of traditional prescriptivism.

Almost every Taiwanese university has some form of an English Department, some with straightforward names (e.g., Department of English) and some with ambiguous names (e.g., Department of Applied Languages). The so-called ‘Applied Courses’ are in fact English for Specific Purposes (ESP) courses covering a range of Business and Tourism topics. While pursuing my doctorate I taught these courses as an adjunct lecturer in several universities. This experience continuously reaffirmed suspicions that one particular aspect of English language education was being neglected in Taiwanese secondary and tertiary education, that is, how to translate the names of the foods and dishes that make up the culturally laden Taiwanese cuisine.