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A few nights ago, during the pursuance of some particular thought, I happened to forget the name of the stadium for the Seattle Mariners. This forgetfulness, of course, occurred while I was thinking of the baseball stadium itself, and not being able to recall the place’s current name held up my entire thought. I was, in other words, unable to continue in my mental progress until remembering the corporate term by which I am supposed to at-will apply to the superstructure of steel located at 1250 First Avenue South, Seattle, Washington.

I give a fuck about the Oxford Comma, and the reason is none other than that it is reasonable to do so.

For the unaware, “Oxford Comma” is the name given to that final comma so often neglected in lists—an example of its being left out can be seen in the sentence: My favorite colors are yellow, blue and red. For the nonusing, it bears stating that the following proof will require the assumption that pieces of punctuation, such as commas, of which the Oxford Comma is a type, are intended for the reader rather than the writer. One example will be all that is needed in order to clear up the issue and provide the above-mentioned proof, and we can begin by examining the following sentence, which includes the use of the Oxford Comma:

In the canvassing of the past for what might be of use to the present, one finds in the case of Hugh Henry Brackenridge, chaplain to General Washington’s army as well as one of the University of Pittsburgh’s earliest lights, a few words requiring nothing more than republication. The advice in question can be found in his novel Modern Chivalry, a book that has never, despite its quality, achieved anything resembling true readership. The words are:

From a letter from Thomas Jefferson dated November 24, 1808, at a time when he was nearing the end of his second term as President, directed to the man’s grandson, then aged sixteen, who was also named Thomas: