Fab, job, God, but, why

Among the astonishing things between heaven and earth is the three-letter word, of which the Scrabble dictionary says there are only 1,347.

The much larger four-letter-word family has a notorious reputation because of a handful of colourful members, despite the honest hard work done by very, many, more and gosh.

The roads are full of people boiling in cars and struggling to clear their minds of those rowdy four-letter words. But you’re unlikely to have even thought about their three-letter neighbours, unless you’re a Scrabble enthusiast hoping to pull off a last-gasp win with cym, qgp, dzo or mux.

The 100 or so two-letter words are elemental. Words like to, on, in and by are the particulate of language. We use two-letter words to name elements, substances and energies like aa (basaltic lava) and qi (the body’s circulating life force).

Ag is a South African exclamation, ideal for your first encounter with the soft white metallic element named by the same word. Ew is a specialised term for military action using electromagnetic energy as well as the go-to word to express distaste at belligerence. 

Three-letter words go beyond the elements to embrace the world of flesh. What a world of exotica and feeling they bring to our attention.

There is no species of creature that cannot be given a three-letter name. It is true that animals that seem to have been designed by committee also have names self-evidently agreed upon by committees: rhinoceros, hippopotamus and dromedary.

But the three-letter name covers domestic companions like the ant, dog and cat; food sources like the hen, cow and pig; shadowy figures like the rat and bat; icons of parish-pump politics and palace intrigue like the fox, hog and asp; and stars of National Geographic covers like the gnu, emu and elk.

What the three-letter word does for the creatures crawling, mooching, stalking and zipping around the planet, it fulfils for the eddies of feeling swirling within us.

Ah is a serviceable word to express a measure of surprise or hesitation. But add a third letter and a vivid palette of sentiment can be expressed.

We get bah (an ah of dismissive disagreement) and mah (disagreement sprouting from a seed of doubt). Do you mean rah (triumphant approval) or hah (triumphant suspicion or suspicious triumph)?

If disappointed, distinguish between gah (exasperated dismay) and wah (distressed dismay). Do not confuse disgust with contempt: be judicious when exclaiming pah (disbelief laced with disgust) and yah (contemptuous derision).

Three-letter words can express meaning simmering just beneath the threshold of speech. Where would we be without hmm, mmm and zzz?

If we count ??? as a word – as we should, given the frequency with which we type it out in response to the unbelievable things we’re messaged – then the three-letter word even manages to be that most paradoxical of linguistic inventions: a word that says you’re speechless.

There are no alternatives. Alas, ?? still shows sufficient control over our faculties to be compatible with a strangulated what. The histrionic ???? is the over-exaggeration of someone who is only playing at being stunned.

The only three-letter word that consistently escapes children is yes- Ranier Fsadni

There is something natural, satisfying and complete about three-letter words. Hence why texting’s most popular abbreviations often come in threes: PPL, PLS, LOL, OMG, IMO, BTW, IDK, LMK, BRB, THX, POV, IRL, ATM, OTT, TBF and, of course, WTF. Even four-letter sentiments rely on three-letter signs.

Big tech rides on the sleek power of three. They have patented app, pad, pod and bot. The health industry, trying to make us think of our bodies as machines we can streamline and upgrade, waxes about the abs and pec and blissful state of rip.

For any parent, the two most frightening words in the English language are the three-letter “Dad?” and “Mum?” when the phone rings at 2AM and it’s your teen at the other end of the line.

The rest of the time, you’re challenged, dismissed, ignored, cut off, avoided and evaded by three-letter words such as duh, huh, meh, sec, but, why and nah.

The only three-letter word that consistently escapes children is yes.  Speaking of yes, whatever happened to that old mainstay of letters to the editor – sic?

There is something especially satisfying about inserting yes in Latin in the middle of quoting the cretin you’re refuting, as though to say, “Yes, ladies and gentleman, this is what the imbecile actually wrote!”

In the good old days, you could use sic to pounce on a howler or as a drive-by shooting at a spelling error. But with today’s effluvium of illiterate writing and misinformation, your reactions to the latest bilge on Facebook would need to overflow with sic, lest some wise guy think you missed an error. Better to write an all-purpose ???

The world won’t be the same without sic. It was bah, hah, pah and yah all rolled into one. With an exclamation mark at the end – sic! – it was the well-bred gentleman’s WTF.

They don’t make three-letter words like sic anymore. It’s gone the way of the Remington typewriter and the Bakelite telephone.

The two most powerful words in the language are trinitarian: God and why. Together they sum up political theology.

“God” has moved armies. It has also given superhuman strength to frail figures who blocked armies.

“Why?” is a deadly challenge to all authority figures from parents to tyrants. It has brought down regimes.

In the Old Testament, amid the murders, massacres and babies burned alive, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob is the only sovereign power ready to entertain “Why?” from his subjects. God and why are an inseparable pair, like male and female.

God is night and why is day. Those who expunge God must make do with the fluorescent lighting of how.

A world without God is a world without why.