Wednesday, April 22, 2009

To Weed, or T o Water . . ., No. 2

Having quietly won the proactive wars of the mid-'Oughts, thanks to a stealthy bomb by the British allies, we now turn our attention to the treatment of the underbrush -- what lingering, or nearly-lost, words and phrases deserve a new appraisal?

Today, we turn to two:


VD: how great was this word? Who knows? All we know is, it's fucking great now. At once evoking nostalgia for a simpler time when VD was unlikely to kill you, yet conveying a simple post-World-War-II moralism, we definitely vote WATER. Young hipsters who at once can appreciate both (a) the need for colloquialisms and jargon and (b) the need to avoid vogue words will want to race out and buy themselves some VD. "Sexually Transmitted Diseases" has too many words, and "STD" sounds too much like "STP" [for the geezers reading this, an automotive product; for the slightly-younger geezers reading this, a band], so VD is definitely the choice. Water it well; it can also invoke odd thoughts of Valentine's Day, and spurs myriad conversations about what the Goddess of Love was doing with the Clap in the first place. . . .



Colored: What a great word. Developed along the road to enlightenment as an alternative to the explosive words of the war; possibly descriptive rather than pejorative; inclusive; this word had it all. But it suffered the fate of almost all words that sprung as euphemisms and catch-phrases to describe participants or issues fraught with difficulty and discomfort -- the difficulty and discomfort at the core remained unresolved, and so the word was skunked. You know, Negro, colored, black -- they were all words of "enlightenment" but replaced. Disgraceful, of course; when you can be pilloried for describing the colored man on the corner, but are progressive for calling him the gentleman of color, you know that the words and the power behind them are perverted.
As much as we love using this word, we'll have to vote WEED and yank it out of the vocab. Shame.


[Ed. Note: Okay, I lied. I'll use it whenever I want, and damn the consequences. I'll just say it like Rickles, and always mentally spell it as I was taught in my youth. The (seemingly superfluous) "u" will insulate me forever. HA ha! But you can't get away with it, so don't even try. . . .

3 comments:

Mister Parker said...

I still say one day someone is going to shoot at you and hit me ...

mister muleboy said...

You and me both, mister parker.

That fucking Safire is always bloviating, and if that weren't bad enough, he then grabs a stick and pokes the tiger. . . .

We're thinking of banning him from future postings. But his connection to the Nixon White House is just too damned cool, too prestifious, carries too much cachet, to let him go.

UNLESS we can get Diane Sawyer. Say No More, Squire!

mister muleboy said...

not only prestifious, but prestigious too !