BUT

BUT vs. The Wizard of Oz.
Crazy match-up, it might seem, but the protagonists certainly form a fascinating set of contrasts -- and BUT is the hands-down winner in this strange strength struggle. The Great and Powerful Oz masquerades as a mystical entity of unknowable and unspeakable omnipotence and brilliance (sort of like YOU-KNOW-WHO). But the"real" Wiz behind the curtain is a puny, frightened runt of the human litter, quaking at the very sight of little Dorothy, fellow-runt Toto, and his own shaky shadow.

Take a careful look at BUT, by contrast, to understand where the real power resides. In the previous sentences alone, as it surreptitiously slinks in the sordid shadow of the Wizard, it performs its strange and wondrous magic of meanings -- appears, that is -- five terrible times. While the Wizard struts and frets his hour upon the stage, BUT quietly and slyly, as usual, changes everything. Posing oh-so-cleverly as your common little nerdword, your everyday harmless conjunction-buddy, it manages to turn everything on its head. Beware, I warn you, of this word-asp lest it perform its Cleopatra/poison act on you -- as it did on me.

Example one:
The first couple of years of my marriage were not shining moments for either me or my general behavior. Or my wife's behavior, for that matter. Ugly arguments. If opposites really do attract, our marriage was, at best, the exception that proves the rule. We were certainly opposites, but the only things we attracted were mutual annoyance, disagreement on every issue from parenting to politics, and an endless stream of invective and verbal violence. Well, maybe it wasn't quite that horrible. But it sure wasn't a romance-fest, either.

My favorite tactic was saying, "I love you." But that, of course was never the end of the pronouncement. "I love you" was invariably followed with the infamous BUT clause:

I love you, but I hate your temper.
I love you, but I can't stand your constant unsolicited advice.
I love you, but I was a very happy bachelor.
I love you, but I can't understand how you can be such a disgusting right wing jerk.
I love you, but your behavior with my family is inexcusable.

I'm sure the strategy is clear. I figured that if I said "I love you" a lot, at least she would never be able to say, "You never tell me you love me." And she couldn't say I was not affectionate. And besides all that, everything I said was TRUE as I saw it, a fact which served the dual purpose of soothing my own conscience regarding my wretched behavior and making it impossible for her to call me a liar. In fact, however, each of the five examples above vividly demonstrates the amazing negative transformational power of BUT. In other words, it renders "I love you" perfectly meaningless. Worse: It makes "I love you" actually mean "I can't stand you." As I say, it turns meaning on its head. Eerily Orwellian.

Luckily, my wife finally said, "Can't you just once say I love you -- period?" And I actually realized at that moment the stubbornness and stupidity I had been perpetrating on her and myself. I was acting like a self-serving, self-deceiving idiot. Now I can't say, of course, that all our troubles magically disappeared after that revelation, but I CAN say that the ensuing disappearance of the BUT clause from my avowals of love represented the removal of an ingredient that had been poisoning our marriage -- which, incidentally, is now twenty-five-plus years along and doing fine, thank you -- but certainly no thanks to BUT.

Example two:
Joe to Jim: You have all the brains of a fence post.
John: That's ridiculously harsh, and you have no right to talk to Jim like that.
Joe to the Whole World: But it's the TRUTH!

I would say Joe should be summarily executed if not for the fact that his behavior is such a great demonstration of the negative power of BUT. It's also a wonderful demonstration that some of our most cherished moral axioms must be considered in many lights, and if they prove to be reflections of real wisdom in only SOME of those lights, amen. Almost EVERYTHING is relative, especially when the issue in question regards moral judgments. I'm speaking not only of the BUT clause ostensibly making abominable behavior both justifiable and inarguable; I'm also referring to the TRUTH vs. LIES relationship which is hammered into our heads from virtual infancy. TRUTH GOOD. LIES BAD. Yes, if we lie to protect our own interests when we know we've acted badly, we are very likely to find ourselves in that woeful web of deceit. Let alone conscience complications. But if we lie to protect the OTHER guy's feelings -- and nobody will suffer for it -- lying is not only okay; it's the only RIGHT thing to do. Joe, in other words, should say to Jim, "You are the second coming of Einstein." And Jim may even sort of believe it. And as a bonus for all concerned, he may even get smarter because of his new-found confidence.

Of course, BUT being the force it is, its power, like all great forces in the universe, may be utilized for good as well as evil, sometimes by simply reversing the word- and sentiment-order of the examples above:
I know we often disagree, but I also know you are a wise and sincere person.
I know you speak slowly and say "UH" a lot, but I'm sure that's because you, like all philosophers and prophets, choose your words very carefully.

Note that "beware" probably comes from "be aware," so when I say, "Beware the great and powerful BUT (and I'm NOT referring to JLo here, guys), I'm really saying just be aware of its awesome but sneaky influence on everything you utter, and also be aware of its power both as the Good Guy and as Little Satan. Of course, you may choose to ignore my advice -- but you do so at your own peril.