a faerie tale for octopetry

Once upon a time, a boy named Adam convinced a girl named Halsted that the plural of “octopus” was “octopetry”. For a short while after that, the girl told everyone she knew about this new, strange plural form. She was very proud to see the shocked and confused looks on faces all about her. She was disseminating knowledge.

One day, the girl recited this important fact to her generative grammar professor. He laughed so hard that he nearly toppled over his lectern. The girl gazed around the room at her classmates, who were all laughing along with the professor. The girl was shocked and confused, but she laughed too, thinking this must be a very funny joke indeed.

Later on, she found the boy, and she kicked his ass.

Metaphorically, of course. He was (lucky for him) hundreds of miles away.

The moral of the story is: Adam lies, but he is the best friend a Halsted could have. She’s known him over half her life now, and it just keeps getting better.

I love you, you big dork.

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About Halsted M. Bernard

Halsted, a/k/a cygnoir, does stuff with words. Her favourite things to do with words are keeping this diary, writing stories, and organising information. She lives in Edinburgh with her husband, two cats, a few gadgets, several fountain pens, and many books.

Posted on 31 Aug 2003 in Diary