There are words getting lobbed around out there that I have labeled Word Grenades.  Just something a person tosses out there to try and cover everything they don’t really want to explain.  One of these Word Grenades is “hate” — a word I asked my children not to use growing up.  Besides being inflammatory and rude, I think most people should have to give a 125 to 300 word speech about why they hate something – it might diffuse some of the hostility they toss around for things that don’t deserve that kind of incendiary, nuclear negativity (poor lil’ brussel sprouts, I’m so looking at you).

 

The problem with a Word Grenade is not just the inability to pin down specifics about something, someone or some place, it’s also that people seem to utter a one-word description of something and hope it is enough, maybe even secretly praying that nobody will press them for further assessment. 

 

Q: How are you?

A: Fine.

 

Q: You have a new teacher!  How would you describe her?

A: Nice.

 

Q: What did you think of the movie?

A: S’okay. [Compound Word Grenade, that one is.]

 

Which got me to thinking, which, depending on tea consumption [cup, mug, pot(s)], can be dangerous.  Word Grenades can and do backfire, completely re-coloring a thing so that it’s not so flattering as you might have originally intended, if you sit down (with your own tumbler of tea) and think about it.

 

“Sweet” is often one of those blanketing words I hear people use to describe something they can’t quite pin down and not always with positive results: lengthy recitals, poorly written RomComs, the annual box of Assorted Soft Centers (when you’ve repeatedly asked for Nuts & Chews), etc.  There is an awfully long list of items that fall under this category and, admit it… you probably have a “sweet” tucked away in your own language arsenal that you’ve employed from time to time (for both good and not-so-good).

 

In and of itself, “sweet” isn’t the worst Word Grenade out there, but why use it, over and over again, if there are so many synonyms to choose from?  Here is a short-form list of alternatives: sugary, honeyed, candied, delicious, luscious, candy-coated, sacchariferous (Cheese & Crackers, but that one is my personal fav), ambrosial, perfumed, wholesome, dulcet, mellow… I’d give you more, but I’m getting a bit ill from the stickiness of it all.

 

But, here comes the backfire for a word like “sweet” – toss “treacle” in the cauldron and suddenly it doesn’t seem so palatable, despite the fact that Treacle Tart is a pretty popular dessert across the pond (that is, if you’re skipping stones here in the U.S.).  Part of that reasoning is the very definition of the word: Treacle (n) 1. a heavily sweet and cloying speech or sentiment; 2. a chiefly British molasses; 3. a medicinal compound formerly used as an antidote for poison (including snakebites and various other ailments).  See, when you change the phrase, “He is so sweet!” with “The man is just treacle.” the image of the person you’re speaking of becomes like that paining in the Disneyland’s Haunted Mansion, the one where the beautiful woman changes into a hideous creature with snakes coming outta her head.  For which we will probably administer treacle (according to Webster’s third definition) after she sinks her fangs into you.

 

Do me a favor, if you’re going to describe a person, place or thing — please don’t just toss a Word Grenade at me and walk away.  I’m a lover, not a fighter and I promise not to press you for further details… but if you decimate the subject with a Word Grenade before I have a chance to hear what you really feel, there’s nothing but empty space between us.  Explosive devices will do that.  And, I don’t even want to get started on fragments.  Darn things.  Really.

“The fly that sips treacle, is lost in the sweets.” – John Gay, English Poet