What is the definition of peep, or rather what exactly does it mean in regards to all social media, etc., well, everything? I have looked in the dictionary and have gotten the expected definitions, to look, and one definition for people. I have heard a few people refer to, I think, their audience, as peeps. When did this originate and why? What is the correct usage in this regard?

I won’t repeat everything I learned along the way, but here’s some of it.

The verb peep meaning a soft, high-pitched sound like that of a baby chick has been in the language since 1400. The noun came along a little later, with the meaning “a slight sound.”

The noun peep, meaning “a glance,” especially through a narrow opening, dates from 1460. Peep in this sense may come from the same word as peek, ME piken, “to look quickly and slyly.”

So much for the traditional meanings of peep.

Here are some uses of the word on the web:

1. Reviews – Hal’s Book “The Peep Diaries”
2. Peep My New Weather Widget.
3. BeautyDialogues: Happy Easter all you Peeps

The Peep Diaries is by Hal Niedzviecki, a Facebook junkie. He invited his 700 Facebook “friends” to a real-time party, but only one showed up. He defines the networking phenomenon peep culture:

Peep culture is reality TV, YouTube, Twitter, Flickr, MySpace and Facebook. It’s blogs, chat rooms, amateur porn sites, virally spread digital movies . . .

The second example uses peep in the sense of “check this out.”

In the third headline, peeps is the plural of a noun “peep” meaning “person.”

I haven’t been able to track down a date of origin for the use of peep to mean “person.” As for “the correct usage in this regard,” the word belongs to the realm of slang. I can’t think of any context in which it could be considered to be correct. One can hope that in time it will dwindle into disuse.

As for the expanded uses of peep in the senses of looking and voyeurism, they seem to me to be reasonable adaptations of the word.

Our ESL readers may find the following “peep” expressions of interest:

peeping Tom: a pruriently prying person. The expression is commonly linked to the story of Lady Godiva.
not a peep: not a sound, not a word. Sit down and be quiet, said his mother. I don’t want to hear another peep out of you.
the peep of dawn: the first sign of light in the morning. The fisherman rose at the peep of dawn.
peep show: “a display viewed through a small hole” Such displays are used in museums to show off miniature objects or tiny dioramas. The most popular connotation of peep show, however, is a sexual display of some kind, viewed surreptitiously.
peephole: a small opening in a doorway that allows a person inside to see who’s on the other side of the door. All rental units must have one.
Peeps: marshmallow candies shaped like chicks and other animals or shapes. They’re most prevalent at Easter, but are also produced for other holidays. According to Wikipedia, they are made from marshmallow, sugar, gelatin and carnauba wax.

You can read the first chapter of The Peep Diaries on the O site.

Fountain pens extended the scope of the writer. No longer did (s)he have to pause in the composition of the sentence, reach over to the inkwell and use those few seconds to determine what to write next. Sentences could flow for ever, like those of Henry James. But even with a fountain pen, revisions don’t come easily.

In Lamb House, Rye, where James lived for many years, some galley proofs of his works are on display, covered with major handwritten amendments. Whole paragraphs deleted and added, sentences turned on their heads, etc. No publisher today, even with modern technology, would accept such major revisions to a book at galley stage. It would appear, though, that typesetting really does crystallize a writer’s thoughts, and give a firm foundation for the next stage in the writing process.

Of course, many authors used typewriters when they became available. Mark Twain, a neophile and early adopter, wrote:

The machine has several virtues. I believe it will print faster than I can write. One may lean back in his chair & work it. It piles an awful stack of words on one page. It don’t muss things or scatter ink blots around. Of course it saves paper.

And as someone who grew up doing a lot of writing (books, articles, etc.) on a typewriter (manual Olivetti portable, and later an electric Facit golfball), I have to agree with Samuel Clemens. Mind you, corrections were tricky. I used a lot of correction fluid and paper, and rewriting a whole sentence often meant starting again from scratch on a new page.

The sheer drudgery and physical labor involved in hitting typewriter keys (less with electric than a manual, of course) meant you had to think carefully about what you wrote. Planning a whole page in advance (or at least a paragraph) wasn’t uncommon. Certainly you tended to write a sentence before putting it down on paper, because it was too much trouble to recast it once it had been typed.

Of course, all this refers to the first draft. Creating a second draft was often a question of starting again from scratch, or a literal “cut and paste” job.

Another way of writing books was (still is for some) dictation to a shorthand secretary or a dictation machine. Dictation can produce long flowing streams of consciousness, poor style, and very clumsy or sloppy plotting in the worst cases, not to mention novels that are parodies of the author’s own style.

But then came word-processors. But that’s for another week. In the meantime, your exercise for the week is to look at some older pieces of writing, and see if you can reconstruct how the authors got the words out of their heads onto paper.

If we follow the usual script, this means it’s time for upset listeners and viewers to rally to the cause, as they have in the past, and browbeat Congress into restoring the budget. (NY Times)

European consumers are entitled to fear genetic modification in their own backyards, even if proper scientific debate is often drowned out by agitprop and railing against multinational corporations. But they have no right to browbeat the developing world into following their lead. (The Economist)

A subordinate clause can either precede or follow its main clause. What writers tend to get confused about, however, is when and where to place commas in relation to subordinate clauses.

The simple rule is this: If a subordinate clause precedes the main clause, separate the two with a comma:

Unless you have a lot of money, steer clear of Rodeo Drive.

If the subordinate clause follows the main clause, no comma is usually needed:

Steer clear of Rodeo Drive unless you have a lot of money.

Many writers wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation to stick a comma between Drive and unless even though it’s not strictly necessary. There’s a natural pause that seems to call for a comma, but try to resist its call unless a pause is needed for special emphasis.

One notable exception is when the subordinating conjunction because is used and the main clause expresses a negative concept:

Don’t worry about your spelling errors because the editor will fix them.

Omitting a comma in this sentence suggests the meaning that there’s another reason not to worry about the spelling errors:

Don’t worry about your spelling errors because the editor will fix them; worry about them because you shouldn’t have made them to begin with.

So if the real reason you shouldn’t worry about the spelling errors is, in fact, because the editor will fix them, we need a comma:

Don’t worry about your spelling errors, because the editor will fix them.

Watch out for because in your subordinate clauses. Scrutinize your sentences to make sure you’re not clouding the issue and confusing your readers.

Could you do a feature on “so be it” and “sobeit?”  I thought for sure it was always written as three words until a discussion on a court reporters’ message board came up about a proofreader saying that it should be a one-word word.

Sobeit is a word and so be it is a clause. Neither is much used in ordinary conversation or writing, but legal language tends to be on the old-fashioned side.

The clause so be it is a subjunctive expression meaning “let it be so.” Example:

Aladdin: I want a huge palace with a thousand servants and a swimming pool.

Genie: So be it!

Sobeit can be used as conjunction or as a noun.

As a conjunction sobeit means “provided that, if.” Example:

I will finish this 800-page novel, sobeit I live long enough.

Sobeit can also be used as a noun, as in this example from the OED:

Thou answerest me an houre after..like to a Sexton with a Sobeit or Amen.

Whether to spell it as one word or write it out as three words depends upon the context.