A poem by Richard Reeve introduced me to the accipiter. I Googled it to find it’s a cadillac of a hawk built for fast flight in woodlands. Love the word. I listened to the online pronunciator for good measure. The recording said “accipider.” It reminded me of something I notice all the time: We Americans voice our intervocalic apico-alveolar stops! We say “wading” instead of “waiting.” We can’t tell the latter from the ladder or the bitter from the bidder or the writer from the rider. It’s all the more noticeable to me since I listen to British talk radio and often converse with an English republican. How language evolves isn’t at all in the direction of clarity. It’s rather in a direction which tends to mutty the wadder in support of our penchant for talking past one another.
I live in Texas and devote much of my time to easel painting on an amateur basis. I stream a lot of music, mostly jazz, throughout the day. I like to read and memorize poetry.
What Are We Wading For?
A poem by Richard Reeve introduced me to the accipiter. I Googled it to find it’s a cadillac of a hawk built for fast flight in woodlands. Love the word. I listened to the online pronunciator for good measure. The recording said “accipider.” It reminded me of something I notice all the time: We Americans voice our intervocalic apico-alveolar stops! We say “wading” instead of “waiting.” We can’t tell the latter from the ladder or the bitter from the bidder or the writer from the rider. It’s all the more noticeable to me since I listen to British talk radio and often converse with an English republican. How language evolves isn’t at all in the direction of clarity. It’s rather in a direction which tends to mutty the wadder in support of our penchant for talking past one another.
(c) 2022 JMN — EthicalDative. All rights reserved
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About JMN
I live in Texas and devote much of my time to easel painting on an amateur basis. I stream a lot of music, mostly jazz, throughout the day. I like to read and memorize poetry.