Wednesday, May 21, 2014

This game is the opposite of avuncular




Who lets renal in the door while excluding rectal?

Sounds like the setup to a really sick joke, but it’s a serious question addressed to the developers of a word game I’ve been playing on my Kindle. It’s a fairly simple game--find all the possible words that can be made from a given group of five or six or seven letters—but I find it oddly soothing, and it often provokes interesting juxtapositions. Thanks to this game, the words deliver and reviled will always be associated in my mind, along with nope, open, peon, and pone.  

Occasionally, though, I key in a perfectly good word and the game rejects it outright, even though the letters are available and the word appears in dictionaries. Some rejected words are recent coinages like selfie or twerk, but other exclusions seem more arbitrary. For instance, the game loves ilea, which thrives primarily within the confines of crossword-puzzle grids, while it rejects oryx, an elegant gazelle grazing far beyond the newsroom.

Sometimes the game evinces the personality of a prudish maiden aunt. Common vulgar terms do not exist within the game’s milieu, but the game distinguishes between terms related to human bodies and those of other types of beasts, accepting teats but not tits, udders but not breasts.

Despite this prudishness, I was puzzled when the game accepted renal but not rectal. The game accepts ass, bum, butt, behind, and bottom, but rectum is rejected, perhaps because of its scientific precision: the prior words all have alternative meanings unrelated to body parts, but a rectum is always a rectum. And let's go back to the game's peculiar appreciation for ilea, the plural of ileum, a particular portion of the small intestine. What kind of maiden aunt embraces ilea but sniffs at rectumMoreover, the game accepts cardiac, ulnar, and renal, suggesting that the game accepts the existence of blood, bones, and kidneys, but it remains ignorant of the existence of assholes.

The game, by the way, is called Every Word, a name that requires serious editing. Every Other Word or Almost Every Word would be more appropriate, but I fear that no one would buy a game called Every Word Except Those At Which Your Maiden Aunt Would Tsk.

Wait, would the game accept tsk? Or would it treat it the way it treats rectum--flushing it right out of the system? 

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

When you reach the end of the road, please donate your brain to science. :)

Bev said...

Um, sure, but by then I fear it'll be the equivalent of roadkill.