Quite so, xerxes, quite so. And this lack of love for the language also goes, I believe, to the fact that we even have less love and confidence in each other as articulate human beings. I don't know whether you've been reading my angry adventures with Telstra. I could not get to speak to a human being for love or money, over the phone! It was one voice activated machine after another, giving me options of uttering one word out of say five, none of which had anything to do with my query! No humans allowed! All are exiled from the workplace, if that workplace requires human interaction! Who needs speech, anymore? Who needs to learn about putting sentences together, speaking manners and mannerisms? Linguistic nuances?
The other extreme is the one I went through during my early years in Greece. Grammar 'till your ears bled and your eyes fogged up with tears! Greek grammar, you might know has been "civilised" since the 70s but before that, one could go through the whole Uni and still be learning why a particular letter was "long" or "short" or must take a circumflex or a forward or reverse accent, a rough breathing mark or a smooth one! As for tenses, moods, conjugations, voices, tenses, declensions... it was endless; and Greek was a compulsory subject in all educational levels so, you failed Greek, you failed your degree. Thankfully, things have changed considerably since those awful days.
I'm reminded of a short scene at the beginning of the film "Never On Sunday" An American tourist (named Homer of all things) has reduced a taverna bouzouki player to running off to the dunnies in tears because he didn't know how to read music. He was inconsolable... until Melina Mercouri ran to him and outside the dunny door asked him, "Do the birds know how to read music?" At which question the door opened and the bouzouki player emerged with a glowing smile. In all things, there's learning and there's overlearning. It's a fine but important balance.
