Ongoing orthographic pet peeve

Last night, I read a fascinating article in last Sunday's Chicago Tribune Magazine about a complete new English translation of the Zohar commissioned by the Pritzker family. I almost didn't finish it however, because the reference on the last page to "Miester Eckhart" made me want to rip it to shreds. I really don't understand why this irritates me so much. Perhaps because it's so easy to prevent? I don't know what style guides newspaper editors use these days, but even a quick Googling would've brought the correction Do you mean Meister Eckhart?

Today, an article on hate festival "Aryanfest" linked to by arkanjil referred to something called "the zeig heil". Only an English-speaker would think that two completely differently spelled vowels should sound the same. From the sound of it, the Phoenix New Times is probably a free paper, but is it too much to expect that they should have at least one contributor or editor who knows how to spell "Sieg Heil"?

Rotating Towers: Owlhurst (Part the First)

Gnomish whitesmith Bielek of Ulek and flamboyant polymath Owlet of Highfolk are conferring beside the door to Sarata's former lair.
Owlet: I had something more...menacing in mind?
Bielek: How about doing the eyebrows in white gold?
Owlet: Right, because geriatric timber wolves are real scary.
Bielek: It could be a Winter Wolf!
Owlet: We're trying to move away from ice-denizen imagery!
A page entres.
Bielek: Well, you've rejected black iron, lead, and steel! What am I supposed to do, smelt--
Owlet: [to page] Yes, what is it?
Bielek: Who is that?
Owlet: Haven't you met the newest member of our company? An orphan from Chendl, he's so enamored of his Lord, he's taken his name as his own.
Bielek: Is that so! Well, what do you have for us, Page Davis?
Page: "Uncle Owlet"'s presence is requested in the Hall of Gates.
Later, in the Hall.
Page: This way, Uncle!
Owlet: But that's the gate to my tower! Did Korgrim--
He steps through.
Owlet: --have something to do with this?
The page appears beside him.
Page: He asked that you close your eyes before proceeding downstairs.
Owlet: Ridiculous! There's no way I'll consent to do that!
Page: Uncle Korgrim suspected as much, which is why he gave me this.
Page raises a wand.
Owlet: What the Hext--
Page: Botox!
Owlet: MY EYES! Oh, ye GODS! I cannot see!
Page: Take my hand, Uncle!
Owlet: You treacherous snipe! When I regain my sight--
Page: Korgrim waits below with the remedy.
Owlet: --I'll sell you both to Infernal slavers! I'll have your worm-ridden hides sold as inferior wineskins! I'll--take your hand away, I can find my way blind better than most sighted men in full daylight!
He descends through a trapdoor.
Korgrim: FRIEND OWLET! WELCOME! XOTOB!
Owlet regains his sight. He is momentarily at a loss for words.
Here endeth Part the First.

Rotating Towers: Owlhurst (Part the Second)

Korgrim: Brother Owlet, I've never known you to go so long without speaking. What do you think?
Owlet: I think it's very fortunate you don't read thoughts. Where did this come from?
Korgrim: We had commissioned it for the chapel--
Owlet: But, in the end, you decided it wasn't understated and tasteful enough for a Temple to Kord?
Korgrim: Not impressive enough! The replacement will be eight ells high, burnished brass, ornamented with--
Owlet: --a loincloth, hopefully.
Korgrim: And detract from the raw power of the sculpture?
Page: But this is more than just a sculpture.
Owlet: It tells time? No, wait, that requires counting to twelve...
Korgrim: It's a fountain! Fiat aqua!
Owlet: But then where does the water come ou--OH MY STARS.
Korgrim: Ingenious, isn't it? That part was Balin's idea. He helped a lot.
Owlet: That would explain the extensive use of dead animal parts in the decorating scheme.
Korgrim: Feel this! Real parandrus hide! Is there anything finer?
Owlet: Yes. Anything.
Looks down.
Why is the floor so filthy?
Korgrim: Oh, that's not filth. It's a special covering designed not to show dirt.
Owlet: Which it accomplishes by looking exactly like dirt.
Page: That was part of the concept. They wanted to bring some of the outdoors in. A tribute to your love of the forests.
Owlet: My love of the forests...it's sort of a Platonic love, uncontaminated by too much association with base matter.
Page: Here is the area they imagined as your retreat. How does the art on the walls please you?
Owlet: What art?
Korgrim: Another ingenious idea of Balin's!
Owlet: He really should leave the life of beating men and beasts to a pulp behind and devote himself exclusively to his "ingenious ideas".
Korgrim: What, and lose his connexion to his sources of inspiration? Anyway, here's how it happened: I was standing...here when the morning sun came through the window and cast the shadow of my head on the far wall. Balin said, "If only there were a way to fix it there forever." So we outlined it with chalk. Then he took a lantern and we went around the room. He cast shadows of all parts of my body. I was thinking of you while we did it...
Owlet: Yes, ahem, I see that.
Page: Such excellent detail! How true to life!
Owlet: I do not want to know how you know that!
Korgrim: I'll wager it's something you never would've come up with!
Owlet: I'm more concerned how it will come off.
Korgrim: You mean...off the wall? Oh, no. We chisled out the shadows before filling them with pigment. They're part of the wall.
Owlet: You're kidding, right? No relief from the bas relief...
Page: You still haven't said anything about the colours, Uncle.
Owlet: Do I really need to? Hmm...er...oh, how clever! Potential intruders will think the walls covered in Yellow Mould and Green Slime! I didn't worry about them creeping across them to murder me in my sleep.
Korgrim: Enough quips, Friend Owlet! Tell me, how do you really feel about your new tower?
Owlet: [to page] Blind me again. Please.

Next on Rotating Towers: Dovecote, or, Is there such a thing as too much white?