Friday, February 14, 2014

Some thoughts on Language

I find language very interesting, in the way that it is interesting to watch any small thing negotiate a large burden. It's always interesting when a bunch of ants carry a stick around. 

Language seems sort of endearing and quaint. Feeling love for one another, we attempt to express it with a systematic hiss and guttural hocking noise. If it seems a flawed means of evocation, I suppose that it is. 

Music seems a more apt means of evocation in many ways, though the invocation varies again, and is sometimes, though of course not always, dependent on a material object.

Sometimes I encounter music that makes me feel like language, words- are just sporks angled toward a steak dinner. For example, as I write this, I listen to Tangerine Dream's "Hyperborea." It is hard to imagine words producing such an incisively nuanced ennui.

Words are a strange artillery, because our English language only uses so many, and we are reluctant to add new ones to the old stock. Sometimes we're even reluctant to take old ones for a spin, and end up referring to alien abductions as "trippy," to botched murder trials as "fucked."

I wonder what we would say to each other if we had more fitting words. If there was one word for the feeling -of yearning with my entire body to hold your foot, there, in that black sock- would I say it?

And if there was one word to express that I have inarticulable feelings, of great tenderness and laughter and trepidation and glow, and lots of other feelings which allow for even less description, would I say that to you?

Maybe I'll just resort to saying yes. Yes to almost everything- yesyesyes- maybe, if I do, the varied prizes of communication will just fall into my hands. Maybe I'll be slapped and laughed at and embraced, inscrutably stared at, spat at, maybe someone will wrap their hand's breadth around my forehead and say I know, I know.

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