Language and the Lost Art of Writing
I can speak English, Spanish some Thai and a little Italian and German. My wife speaks English, Tagalog, Illongo a little Cebuano and some Spanish. Language is the most curious thing. It is the illustration of our thoughts, emotions, feelings and desires. It is the instrument of expression and without it we would be as limited as my loving dog. I might be able to understand happiness, sadness, pleasure or pain, hunger and when one needs to poop. Beyond that things start to break down. I have a lot of friends who I communicate with in English but English is not their first language. This dynamic can frequently create misunderstandings. Limited knowledge of a language often creates communication without nuance. Stronger words chosen for convenience can often convey a message that was not intended. There is always a danger of a misunderstanding, something blowing up that shouldn’t be. In the face of such catastrophic consequence I maintain the policy of not getting piss