Alexandra Petri laments the passing of whom.
The Whos down in Whoville are perfectly safe. But the Whoms, down in Whomville, having staid, WASPy dinners of roast beast and refusing to pass Little Susie Lou Whom a slice unless she uses the subjunctive correctly in her request: They are in grave danger. Whom is struggling. After all, whom is, as numerous writers have noted, the literary equivalent of waving an enormous flag that proclaims you a Stuffy Old Twerp, a Bombastic Blowhard Who Thinks He’s In England, or In 1800, or Possibly Both. You might as well invite people to go fox hunting later and murmur sexist things into a tea service for all the goodwill it will earn you.
This notion that some folks have that, at some dim dark time in the past, everyone used precisely correct grammar, is a favorite fantasy of the Miss Grundies of this world.
Persons don grammar like clothing–they suit it to their environment.
One does not wear white tie and tails to the old fishing hole.
Of course, these days, some people wear jeans to weddings and don’t take off their baseball caps at funerals, so maybe she has a point.