The Spell of Words

            Sometimes words just don’t make sense.  Words like ‘politician’ and ‘hemorrhoid’, for instance.  They seem to have incredible literary flourish for things that are a pain in the…anatomy.  Whereas ‘pie’ and ‘dance’, two of life’s thoroughly delightful things, are relegated to one-syllable sadness in a language otherwise bursting with potential.  I’m not calling for a march on academe here, but a little consideration for the manner in which we refer to certain things would go a long way toward making language intuitive. 

            I know this approach can lead to some controversy.  Opera and heavy metal rock.  Need I say more?  Still, when you compare the ‘smell’ of roses with the ‘redolence’ of roses, you can sense some possibilities.  And I’m fine with a Yugo being a car while an Aston-Martin is an automobile.  Bucket?  No problem!  However, a T.V. commercial is way too elegantly named.  It should be a crud.  Infotainment should be slop.  And lite beer?  Well, why even use that phrase?  But enough of that.

            Book is a word that far and away deserves syllabic enhancement.  Poe understood this with his “…quaint and curious volume(s) of forgotten lore…”  You get the idea—if it’s good, give it a little literary festivity.  For instance, around here ‘asthma’ seems a pretentious way to spell something ugly.  It should be spelled Azmuh.  Save the fancy pretense for words that signify finespun, delightful things, like a brightly colored sunset, or Tiramisu at Ruby Tuesday’s!  Things that deserve a little pomp and puff.