Rigour

I’m not a pedant, he announces, loudly,
Just because I choose the proper word.
The language is my oyster, he says proudly,
So I won’t clam up; it’s too absurd.
Affect, effect, impact, they’re not the same,
So I won’t be pretending that they are
(I use “pretend” in its old sense of “claim”:
“Pretender to the throne”). Rigour’s no bar
To understanding, is it? We must face
The consequences when we drift, and laugh.
I counter, You're making the standard case
For stiff-necked fussing; you’re an old giraffe.
He says, Giraffe? You mean camelopard?
I answer, You’ve been pushing this too hard.