Here it goes, write or die time. I am not quite sure where to go, but I do
know that I need to get my fingers, and more importantly, my brain working with
words. These glorious things that paint
beautiful pictures, slight variations of each other, pulling together a mosaic
that will only fade at the next rush of inspiration.
Why do words matter?
Why not use one word if so many mean something similar. To be mollified is to be calmed, to be
pacified is to be calmed, to be placated is to be calmed, to be calmed is to
be, well, calmed. So why so many? Wouldn't that be like asking why there are so
many types of dogs, birds, butterflies, etc?
Would you be satisfied with nothing but squawking crows? The ugly crow turning graceful doesn't have
the same enticement as the ugly duckling's realization that she is,
in fact, a swan: a thing of beauty to behold and even envy. The subtle differences in nature are
essential, as are the subtle differences in words. Each word is its own unique shade used to paint
a verbal or written portrait.
Wasn't part of Orwell's admonishments in 1984 to protect our language? Our ability to think in degrees helps us to
argue, love, hate, defend, evolve in degrees as well. Apathy is the cancer of society. What better way to become apathetic than to
lose your ability to pinpoint a feeling, a passion. How do you tell someone that they are
oppressing you when you have no word "oppression"? How do you tell a society it is time for a
revolution when you've boiled the sentiment down to "change"? If you ask this lexicon admirer, it would be
super plus good to actually express ourselves in as many shades and
complexities as our potentially infinite language will permit.
