Words. Wurds. Wudz.

I love them. I need them. I revel in them. I juggle them like ripened pears on a day glistening with the sunshine of a thousand years. Wait a minute! I apologize. Carried away, again. The deal is: there are so many of them. They represent opportunity, but also confusion. Some, like Bam, for instance, seem inevitable and obvious, but I can’t think of many like that. Most are arbitrary, or, if not, way beyond any logical origin I can figure out.

Take, chair. Does that look like a chair? Sure, but you knew that. You could just as easily have called it table, or fire truck.

One step below usage lies madness. So, for our purposes today, let’s dispense with reason. Kind of sounds intriguing. The fact that we’re using words to describe all of this is hurting my head. What I really want to do is to point out the sounds of some words that may provoke wonder, bafflement, even experimentation. Or, a million other things. You just can’t tell with words.

If you were me, you would realize, 1. How hard it is to stop writing, using these regular words. 2. How thinking like this might drive you crazy. 3. The philosophical, if not practical, dilemma initiated by a question like Why? or how chaos is created by subtracting meaning from a perfectly good system of communication.

Consider the following words as words, as sounds, as objects without definition.
It’s an example of focusing our attention, like a microscope, on a part of something and not being able to recognize it. Okay, okay. Enough.

Gazebo Bingo Pluto
Jello Honcho Bongo
Bamboo Kazoo Wahoo
Whoop de do

See what I mean? And, it’s not just the ones that end in O, though that does add a bit of fun. That’s simply a function of the suffix, O. None of these words are really related.

How about words like:

Smock Aplomb Pizza
Keel Bunch Urchin
Orbit Swank Rash

As objects, they are interesting. As sounds, they are evocative. Let’s mess around.

“Keel your swank orbit, my little pizza. That smock showed wahoo honcho. Could gazebo bingo the bamboo from aplomb?”

This is getting good.

A rash bongo led the jello to a safe urchin. In Kazoo, we bunch.

And, so on.

Words. Wurds. Wudz. They intoxicate. They reduce me to tears. They inspire the ineffable. They illuminate the elusive. They call us to action. They are a smock bunch. They orbit the jello. Who knew the rash gazebo? Remember the whoop de do!