Warning: because this article (not including this sentence) does not include the letter “e”, many of the sentences lack coherence and leaping readability; do not weep.
Our world is a world of artificial shadows; humans (journalists and politicians, in particular) rub facts, shortcomings, and anything that contradicts our opinions into obscurity. Lipography, a word that points to acts of conscious or unconscious omission of particular symbols, is a significant kind of omission to think about in our world of shaky truths and foggy human morality.
Lipography’s first introduction to our world was in writings by J. Gow in 1888. Lipography, from lipo- (lacking) and -graphy (writing), is not too popular, but is a jolly brightity with or without your admiration of it. Mr. Wright (an author of antiquity)’s critical lipographic work was his 1939 book Gadsby, which had a total lack of a symbol this column, too, avoids. An additional lipographic author is known for his book La Disparition, a book lacking such said symbol, and is known for his following book too, which avoids using “a”, “i”, “o”, and “u”. G. Adair, a translator, took La Disparition into our linguistic family with similar avoidant acts (and brought about Anton Vowl as a protagonist).
Fascinatingly, contradiction is fairly common among historians studying lipography. Wiktionary claims that it is a scribal or typographical fault in which a symbol or group of symbols that should occur at two points only occurs at a singular point (such as “trol” (in comparison to “troll”) or dropy (in comparison to “droopy”). Many lipographic hobgoblins (dictionary.com, M-W, and Collin’s Dictionary, to call out a handful), claim that lipography is always an involuntary act. And Wordnik.com, a thorough oddity, claims that lipography is dittography, and dittography is an unwitting duplication of a symbol (wombatt, in comparison to wombat, or “thwarrt”, in comparison to “thwart”), which is contrary to what most of us think about about lipography. For any starting lipographic scholars, writing out 1-1,000 is honorably lipographic, as “a” lurks out of sight until “1,000”.
What can non-lipographicly-willing humans absorb from this mudspoil of lipographic information? Lipography is not a paragon of inclusivity and compassion; it shuts out symbols from our books and is an ostracizing filth-brain of a tool for many symbols (if it truly is a conscious act). It is difficult, awkward, and fairly finickaty, although is particularly alluring to pupils who fancy difficult, awkward, and fairly finickaty things. It is a suitably factual analogy to our surroundings; avoiding a particular symbol and avoiding a particular truth stand hand in hand with an uncanny amount of harmonization. Although symbol-omission is no straightforward task, an individual can omit a truth with an inconspicuous tap on his computing monitor.
This aligns with our foolish human inclination of hiding from clunkicity and jumping toward simplicity; if humans put down lipographs in substitution for mistruths, our world would far surpass th’ pugnacious stupidity of today.
