Words, words, words. Words and swords, two-edged, sharp to divide asunder, words: the tools of creation (What? Did you think it was done with a shovel?) Catch a man at his word. Make words into weapons. A word can change so much: Moses with horns because a word was spelt with r instead of without. A word can mean so much—said iambic or said trochaic, changes the meaning. Used with another it means something else, something different. Words can be the dough of dissimulation. If I have been niggardly with words, at times, can anyone blame me? What if, as in le Misanthrope, we only used words in their precise meaning and never played semantics, and only let our words convey the cold, stark truth? I am weary of measuring words so as not to unleash the caustic of hell. I forget sometimes to measure, and off guard I say the wrong words, and out pours the hot and hurting retort. KYDMS.
Aphasia: the loss or impairment of the ability to use or comprehend words.
Words are the essence of life. The life of the body, la vie du corps, depends on food, water, air, and physical things. But even alone, a person speaks to himself, thinks in words. Aphasia then is something analogous to stroke. In fact, a stroke impairs the physical usage of parts of the body and often the mind, and therefore can cause aphasia. But aphasia could come from turning away from mental exercise, as when someone ceases reading. I suppose it could happen in some degree just by being around ignorant people whose vocabulary is very limited. Hanging around with stupids could bring a degree of aphasia. Watching TV certainly could. (What is the vocabulary range of anything and everything on TV? Their audience can’t handle anything above the ninth grade.) The cure would be reading a wider range of the right kinds of materials and having conversations with people who have a better vocabulary than you.
