D’oh! That was supposed to read “Sorry about your fever.” Thank you, autocorrect.
These days, it seems that everyone with a smart phone has been bitten by its email autocorrect monster. Even little Hannah, who received this alarming message from her father: “We’re going to divorce next month.” Oops, dry those tears, little girl. It was supposed to read “Disney.”
My latest foray into autocorrectitude: When my esteemed client’s name was changed from Tina to Tuna. Now there’s a pretty good way to scuttle a business relationship, yes?
“Autoincorrect,” as the phenomenon has been labeled, has become so prevalent that noted tech columnist David Pogue has taken to blogging autocorrect follies from reader submissions. And, as was inevitable, a website called Damn You Auto Correct chronicles smart phone exchanges in which adorable babies become affordable ones, hotel vacancies become vasectomies, and a lanai with a view becomes a labia with a view.
Oh sure, you could turn off your autocorrect feature. But then the same fat-fingeredness that triggers the function will instead yield a profusion of typos. (I’m a notoriously inaccurate typist, so without autocorrect, I can easily take several minutes to fire off even a brief message.)
So, the answer to all this? Keep hoping that the Microsofts and Googles of the world keep refining their language processing algorithms. In the meantime, we’re all reduced to texting transsexuals.
Translators! Translators! Texting translators!
© 2011 Fatt Lipp. All rights reserved.







