The silence of the letters
VERSION2:
As a kid I remember a
story (A table is a table) in my English Reader where out of sheer boredom, the
main character decides to rename / jumble up all things around him. The books
became chairs, the chairs became pillows, the table became something else and
so on.
That story never ceased
to intrigue me over these years. Or inspire me.
So, after nearly 37
years of racking my head trying to come up with my own idiosyncrasy, I've
finally decided that I've had enough of the silly silent letters in my beloved
queen's English.
No more of laffing any
longer. Henceforth, the u, g and h in laugh will all get their proper respect
and pronunciation(s). I bet there are already plenty of people who are
disgusted with the treatment meted out to the poor ‘t’ in ‘listen’.
Or Mr ‘L’in ‘half’. Yeah….My apologies to those who have been
momentarily discomfited by the appearance of
a capital L in the midst of a sentence, a para …..in the middle of
nowhere… and where it was scarcely warranted.
But hey folks, just so
that you know: the poor small L looks like a capital I, at least in some of the
fonts like Arial Narrow. Try typing the word ‘ill’ in the beginning of a
sentence and you’ll know what I mean. You’ll have something that looks like the
‘third’ (Ill), plucked right out of ‘George
the Third’ from the decidedly wacky English ruling class in that era of blood
and gore. Ahhhh ….those days of monarchy, of smoky castles and long cold
winters of unwashed men and animals….of ever flowing tales of blood and gore. No
wonder, they evoke no such nostalgia like the wild west does. …..sunny days of
summer and clear blue skies of winters. The English have retained their prima
donna status by virtue of the fact that the gibberish that the Americans speak
or the grunts that the South Africans utter, borrows the same grammar and words
that’s found in the dictionaries and kindergarten books of that tiny strange
island called England.
Yes it’s a strange
country indeed. It’s a country, supposedly independent with its soccer teams or
county cricket. But it’s also a part of something called the United Kingdom and
a nation called Britain. The English queen is actually a Scot and the Scots are
not the largest consumers of their famed scotch whiskey. With so many
contradictions in existence, it’s no wonder that far greater numbers of
“propah” English speakers live outside the island.
In fact, the whisperings that go on in the lavish
banquets in the palace keep pointing to the fact that if one wishes to hear
proper English in a congregation, it’s best to travel to India. And that brings
us around to India. The country whose post-independence leaders just couldn’t
get over their awe of
VERSION1:
As a kid I recall a story (A table is a table) from my English Reader where out of sheer boredom, the main character decides to rename / jumble up all things around him. The books became chairs, the chairs became pillows, the table became something else and so on.
That story never ceased to intrigue me over these years. Or inspire me.
So, after nearly 37 years of racking my head trying to come up with my own idiosyncrasy, I've finally decided that I've had enough of the silly silent letters in my beloved queen's English.
No more of laffing any longer. Henceforth, the u, g and h in "laughter" will get their proper respect and pronunciation(s). I bet there are already plenty of people who are disgusted with the treatment meted out to the poor ‘t’ in ‘listen’. Or Mr ‘L’in ‘half’.
Yeah….My apologies to those who have been momentarily discomfited by the appearance of a capital L in the midst of a sentence, a para …..in the middle of nowhere… and where it was scarcely warranted.
But hey folks, just so that you know: the poor small L looks like a capital I, at least in some of the fonts like Arial Narrow. Try typing the word ‘ill’ in the beginning of a sentence and you’ll know what I mean. You’ll have something that looks like the ‘third’ (Ill), plucked right out of ‘George the Third’ from the decidedly wacky English ruling class in that era of blood and gore.
Ahhhh ….those days of monarchy, of smoky castles and long cold winters of unwashed men and animals….of ever flowing tales of blood and gore. No wonder, they evoke no such nostalgia like the wild west does. …..sunny days of summer and clear blue skies of winters.
The English have retained their prima donna status by virtue of the fact that the gibberish that the Americans speak or the grunts that the South Africans utter, borrows the same grammar and words that’s found in the dictionaries and kindergarten books of that tiny strange island called England.
Yes it’s a strange country indeed. It’s a country, supposedly independent with its soccer teams or county cricket. But it’s also a part of something called the United Kingdom and a nation called Britain. The English queen is actually a Scot and the Scots are not the largest consumers of their famed scotch whiskey.
