25 November—Our marvelous and beloved English language is blessed in having only one definite article, “the,” and two indefinite articles, “a” and “an.” That’s all there is to it, no silly things like gender to worry about. (English was politically correct before political correctness even existed.) The indefinite article refers to a nonspecific noun, the definite article to a specific noun.

Latin has no articles at all, so one must infer from context whether, say, “regina” means “queen,” “a queen,” or “the queen.” Similarly, Ukrainian and Russian, like most Slavic languages, have no articles. That’s why Ukraine used to be The Ukraine, a habit it’s difficult to break.

Attic (Classical) Greek had a definite article but no indefinite article. Modern Demotic (i.e., of the people) Greek, however, has both. When Classical Latin became Vulgar (i.e., of the people) Latin in the Late Roman Republic, speakers of Vulgar (a.k.a. Popular, of the people) Latin found themselves using demonstrative adjectives (“this, that, these, those”) for the definite article and the numeral one for the indefinite article. It made sense and certainly made comprehension clearer and life easier. And, of course, that evolved to the Romance languages.

“The” is the most frequently used word in the English language. It’s also the most frequently used word in item captions in Hammacher Schlemmer promotional literature. Take, for instance, the “Choice Gifts 2023” catalogue of the good, the bad, and the ridiculous you’ll have found or may soon find in your mail. In fact, every single item in that little promo—without exception—is “The” something or other.

(On the other hand, Hammacher Schlemmer’s copywriters still haven’t learned there’s a useful punctuation mark called the hyphen. But that’s for another time.)

On more than one occasion I’ve commented on Hammacher’s considered and pointed use/misuse/abuse of the definite article to implicitly drive home the superlative quality of everything it sells, lest readers not notice that many items are explicitly labeled “Best” and adorned with the “The Hammacher Schlemmer Institute Tested Best” gold seal.

Suffice to say, both “best” and “the” imply uniqueness. But relatively few items Hammacher sells are in fact unique in any way, nor indeed the best. The very first item in the book, for instance, is “The Rechargeable Mini Chainsaw”; you’ve doubtless seen it and ones like it advertised online, in magazines, perhaps on TV. On the same page is “The Washable Cashmere Sweatshirt”; a cursory Google search brings up several retailers of washable cashmere sweatshirts.

In the bowels of the book you’ll find, inter alia, “The Best Ideal Temperature Dry Eye Relief Mask,” “The Best Jellyfish Aquarium,” “The Best Offline Password Vault,” and yet another “The Best Knife Sharpener.” Of course, all the unique and superlative items are duly certified and sealed by the unbiased and unimpeachable Hammacher Schlemmer Institute.

One wonders about Hammacher Schlemmer’s criteria for “Best.” One wonders about Hammacher Schlemmer’s criteria for “Best.” One also wonders whether the captions are intended to be read with emphasis on the definite article or the superlative adjective, “Thee Best This and That” or “The Best This and That.”