The Case of the Missing Contraction: Why “This’s” Got Busted by Grammar Cops
Picture this, dude: You’re texting your buddy about that *insane* thrift-store find—a vintage band tee with the tags still on. You type, *”This’s the coolest shirt ever,”* and autocorrect *immediately* slaps a red underline under it like a grammar teacher with a vendetta. Seriously, what gives? Why does “that’s” get a free pass while “this’s” gets treated like a linguistic outlaw? Time to dust off our detective hats and crack this case wide open.
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1. The Grammar Rulebook: Why “This’s” Didn’t Make the Cut
Contractions are the ultimate language hack—they smoosh words together, drop a few letters, and bam: efficiency unlocked. But here’s the plot twist: not all combos get invited to the party. While “it’s,” “that’s,” and “don’t” are VIPs, “this’s” got left at the velvet rope. Why?
Turns out, apostrophes have *rules*, man. They either mark possession (*Mia’s coffee obsession*) or replace missing letters in contractions (*can’t* = *cannot*). But “this’s” commits a grammatical felony: it *looks* possessive. Imagine reading, *”This’s sleeve is ripped”*—are we talking about the shirt’s sleeve or trying to say “this is”? Total chaos. Standard English avoids this mess by keeping “this is” intact. Even dialects that bend rules (looking at you, Southern drawl) agree: “this’s” stays in the reject pile.
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2. Phonetics: The Sneaky Reason “This Is” Doesn’t Need a Shortcut
Let’s break it down like a sale rack at Target: some contractions exist because they *sound* better. “That’s” works because the *-at* in “that” and the weak *-is* blend smoothly (*”thats”* → *”that’s”*). But “this is”? Nah. The *-is* in “this” and the *-is* in “is” are already lazy neighbors—they share a weak vowel sound, so squishing them adds zero value. It’s like double-couponing a free item; pointless.
And here’s the kicker: in fast speech, “this is” *does* get slurred—but it morphs into *”thissiz”* (try saying *”This’s my coffee”* fast—see?). Yet written English draws the line. Why? Because unlike spoken slang, writing needs clarity. No one wants to decode whether *”this’s”* means *”this is”* or *”this has”* (*”This’s been wild”* = ???). Grammar cops ain’t got time for that.
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3. The Mischief of Ambiguity: When “This’s” Causes a Language Crime Scene
Ever played telephone with nonstandard grammar? It’s a disaster. Say someone writes, *”This’s the problem”*—are they saying *”This is”* or *”This has”*? Context might save the day, but why risk it? Even in dialects where *”this’s”* pops up (hi, informal web forums), it’s like wearing socks with sandals: technically possible, but *why*?
And here’s the conspiracy theory: contractions thrive when they’re *needed*. “Can’t” saves breath; “won’t” avoids the awkward *”will not”* vibe. But “this is” is already a lean, mean, two-syllable machine. Forcing a contraction here is like adding a loyalty program to a dollar store—overcomplicating something that works fine as-is.
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The Verdict: “This Is” Stays Winning
Case closed, folks. “This’s” got benched because (a) it breaks apostrophe rules, (b) it doesn’t help pronunciation, and (c) it’s a ambiguity grenade. English is messy enough without rogue contractions muddying the waters. So next time you’re tempted to type “this’s,” remember: even grammar has a line, and this one’s drawn in red pen. Now go forth and contract responsibly—your local editor will thank you.
*(Mic drop. Or should I say, “Mic’s dropped”? Nope. See? We’re learning.)*