It may be difficult for Mrs. Language Person's three or four regular readers to believe, but occasionally that Snitty Old Bitty will indeed concede. Case in point: the split infinitive. First things first; one must define the infinitive verb form. An infinitive, you may recall, is identified by the juxtaposition of a verb with "to," whether expressed or shyly invisible.

Try and understand (but please, do not!). MLP may try to explain, and she may explain, but she cannot try and explain. Understand, dear Reader, she may try to explain and she may explain; she cannot do both. One tries, fails, or does. One cannot "try and do" a certain task, any more than one can fail and do it. One tries to do it. Would one fail and do it? Of course not. Consistent communication is successful communication, as that S.O. - (oops) Snitty Old Bitty so often nags (nag: to annoy by scolding; Scandinavian dialectal form of "gnaw").

Try to spot the infinitives in this sentence; help me make my point. Did you see them, dear Reader? Or did you just "spot" the first? Remember, those "to"s can be sneaky. If you "tried to" and you missed it, you helped me (to) make my point. Look again.

All right (not "alright!" It's all right; just use two words, please.); now that you can find an infinitive, consider its functions. It may serve as noun (I tried to stop reading this!) and be that thing you tried to do. It may serve as adverb, explaining why (We stopped to end the boredom). An infinitive may even serve as descriptive adjective (N.B.: Is that redundant?); the phrase "MLP is the least likely writer to impress" identifies just which writer is your MLP.

Now that you know well the infinitive, time to split. Wait, you say; didn't Mr. English Teacher in school tell me not to (split infinitives - verbs don't like invisibility dear Reader)? Well, yes, he likely did. Today, he likely would not. Once upon a more literary time, Latin - that mother of all language beautiful, that root of so much we now butcher - was required in English-speaking classrooms. There is no "to" in a Latin verb, so they remain whole and cannot be split. To avoid confusion, the "no split infinitives" rule was established.

And hence, erased entirely.

Sadly, we now cruelly ignore Latin. We encounter her quite by accident as she hangs her poor head, unrecognized. We understand not our own linguistic heritage, which makes it that much easier to beat words to a bloody pulp.

Today your MLP chooses to graphically lament, and there it is: a split infinitive. Today it is clearer to write "to graphically lament," than to write "graphically to lament." One could make an argument for "to lament graphically," yet even this is less preferred. We tend to lackadaisically (lazily; without interest or vigor) toss those oh-so-vital verbs to the end of the sentence, the back of the staggered line. We no longer like lackadaisically to toss, although we may like to toss lackadaisically. Those poor infinitives, stretched and straining across the tortuous sentence....

Today, dear Reader, the choice is entirely yours. Split at will. Communicate successfully thus; Snitty Old Bitty cannot complain. MLP indeed concedes defeat. Sigh.

Sholeh Patrick, J.D., is a columnist for the Hagadone News Network, a Snitty Old Bitty whose answer was "look it up" when asking her mother about language. Blame the nag on nurture and contact her at sholehjo@hotmail.com.