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.

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 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?

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.

In 1977 two French men, Simon Nora, a high-level civil servant, and Alain Minc, an economist, co-authored a report entitled L'informatisation de la société to French president Valery Giscard d'Estaing, which was later translated into English and published as The Computerization of Society (Nora & Minc, 1980). However, in a paper of the same title written in English and published in 1987, Minc simply transplanted the French word informatisation directly into English rather than sticking to the old translation computerization. However that was not the first time the word informatisation was used in the English language. One year before, the word informatization had appeared in an article published in the American magazine Dædalus:

1. (1) This is what the information society is offering as a by-product of a new stage in the mechanization of the economy and the informatization of culture. […] It is no accident that the phrase “artificial intelligence” has become such an important term within the culture of those responsible for the informatization of society, because, if intelligence can be artificial, then the randomness of history will disappear (Smith, 1986: 165–6).

These notes are largely based on Lodge (2009), and the IPA transcriptions on Wells (2000).

Michael Bulley has singled out for discussion one variant in the articulation of the /r/ phoneme in British English which he characterises as ‘w-for-r’, ‘close to /w/, but distinct from it’ (Bulley, 2014: 46). The focus is on /r/ in syllable-initial position, including /r/ in initial consonant clusters. He describes this particular, not to say singular, variant as ‘/w/-like’, which begs a number of questions.

Euphemism is a concept closely related to taboo or embarrassing topics; classic examples include sex, religion and politics. It has been mainly studied to show how, within a given language, alternative expressions replace other unsuitable ones that, accordingly, may cause offence and discomfort to the audience. While this first approximation to the question of euphemism anticipates a key point in the use of these substitute expressions, namely the relationship between speaker-hearer in communication, the present discussion seeks to push this interdependence a bit further, framing it around English words or Anglicisms in the context of Spanish fashion. Some examples include ‘backstage’, ‘fifties’, and ‘street style’. This brings up some interesting questions: why should fashion, a clearly non-taboo topic, resort to the use of euphemistic words? How can English words qualify as good candidates to carry out the euphemistic role?

In the December 2012 issue of English Today, Philip Durkin argues that lexis is currently a ‘Cinderella’ subject: he suggests that the methodological problems generated by the study of lexis have led to it being marginalised in contemporary linguistic research (2012: 3). Nevertheless, Durkin notes that ‘lexis (or vocabulary) is probably the area of linguistics that is most accessible and most salient for a non-specialist audience’ (2012: 3). Thus, one cannot overestimate the importance of lexical research with regards to engaging a wider audience in linguistic discourses. Prior to the advent of the internet, however, researching etymology was a laborious process for English language enthusiasts, especially when the lexical items of interest were considered to be colloquialisms or slang. Indeed, ‘non-standard’ lexis, historically, has been marginalised and sometimes even excluded from dictionaries (Durkin, 2012: 6); however, the rise of the internet and social media has led to the increased visibility of ‘non-standard’ lexis, making information about language use more accessible to researchers outside of the local speech community (Browne & Uribe-Jongbloed, 2013: 23). Moreover, the internet has given language enthusiasts unprecedented access to a range of historical and contextual information which proves invaluable when considering etymology. This article demonstrates how more conventional language resources such as the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) can be used alongside a variety of other online resources and fictional and nonfictional texts to identify the etymologies of contemporary English lexical items. Specifically, this essay explores the etymologies of three Australian colloquial nouns (bogan, cobber, and sandgroper) taken from travel website TripAdvisor's (2011) user-generated glossary of Australian English colloquialisms.

The mission of the English Project (www.englishproject.org) is to explore and explain the English language in order to educate and entertain the English speaker, and 2015 was the year of punctuation for the Project because 6 February 2015 was the 500th anniversary of the death of Aldus Manutius. Aldus was a Venetian printer who shaped the comma, invented the semicolon and created italic fonts. He may have been the greatest punctuator of all time. We ‘punctuated’ the year by looking in turn at the full stop, the semicolon, the colon, the comma, the slash, the hyphen, the parenthesis, the exclamation, the apostrophe, the quotation mark and the question mark. Those twelve provide the fundamentals of English language punctuation, and all of them do more than one job. If we had a complete and unambiguous set of punctuation marks, we might need as many as 50, but the writing world does not want the trouble of such precision. In just same way, the writing world has never accepted the need for 44 separate letters to match the 44 separate sounds of the English language. Providing a separate grapheme (letter) for every phoneme (sound) is the linguist's business. Punctuation marks are ambiguous therefore. They suggest rather than define. They rely on context and the quick wittedness of the reader. If precision is needed, there are proofreader's marks. Merriam-Webster lists 42 of them, but proofreading is a special practice. Punctuation marks are a special set of symbols, and of symbols and signs there is no end. Punctuation marks are regularly appropriated by the devisers of computer languages. Punctuation marks can become logotypes – ‘a single piece of type that prints a word’. The exclamation mark can be made to work like &, $, or @. There are fuzzy edges to the subject of punctuation.

With a rapid increase of electronic communication and online social media, the English language has become a ubiquitous element in global communication. Although change is an inevitable phenomenon in any living language, an infiltration of a foreign language is often resisted by those who fear that a foreign influence would disintegrate the purity of their language, sabotaging its integrity and distinctiveness.

In recent years, many researchers have been studying the spread of English in our globalized world, while others have focused on multilingualism. For Stępkowska the question of multilingualism in Europe is intimately linked with English, and Switzerland represents the perfect place for understanding how these relationships evolve. Her book treats sociolinguistic questions at a macro-level and provides the reader with three main elements: a broad consideration of English (Chapter 1), a discussion about language contact (Chapter 2), and new data on the Swiss language use obtained in the canton of Zurich in 2011, which leads to the development of a ‘Swiss paradigm’ conceptualizing the role of English in Switzerland (Chapter 3).

Landmarks is a book difficult to classify, yet it is of great interest to students of the English language. It is also a book that on publication in early 2015 struck such a chord with the general readership that it spent several months in booksellers’ ‘top ten’ lists.