An Article Without the Letter E

1000 words, completely absent of the most common letter in English.

In this post, I will try to jot it all down without using a symbol most common in our lingo. A mighty task this is, as that symbol crops up in most words.

You may ask, why should I do this? Isn’t such a task limiting what I want to say and how I want to say it? Mayhap, but this author is not an individual who backs down from any hardship. A book I saw last month, “Gadsby,” lasts fifty thousand words without using that nasty symbol at all throughout its story. My task is to last a paltry thousand.

How difficult it is! Almost all conjurings of words contain that darn symbol. If you maintain your will to stay with yours truly, I will do my utmost to go on as long as I can. Although I must think, am I crazy? My brain is blocking words at all points and laughing. ‘No, not that word; oh, you totally cannot put this word on your Substack!’ If you wish to limit a man’s thinking, cut down his vocabulary. Should I ask ChatGPT to assist in crafting this post? Or at a minimum ask for its input? No! I am a human, I must do it solo. What do I talk about now?

A dizzying array of math books sits in my room; all but two contain that awful symbol: “Counting and Probability” and “Calculus.” Writing formulas or solving various math conundrums is a hobby I fancy. Shall I slack off and work on that today? No, procrastinating will not assist in finishing my work at hand.

Politics is a topic I can touch, if only I had anything to say. But all of us know talking about politics on most occasions is a bunch of bloviating without knowing anything. Most books by politicians contain nothing but shouts of “I am worthy! I am important! Anoint my stint as a public official with adoration!” It’s also usually just a big ad for an upcoming mayoral run in a big city. Can I say this toward all aggrandizing authors? Okay, not all, but most. Our officials portray an illusion of authority; in actuality, what is known by our ‘moral pontificators’ is virtually nothing apart from hot air and bombast.

Or I turn to my piano which sits across my room, accumulating dust. Practicing is not a task at top of mind, and I find that sad. I was off this past Monday and was not sitting and playing at any point; I was trying to think of a post for this blog and drifting without a thought.

Occasionally I think about what I would do if I did not work: probably vacationing in Miami or Hawaii, swimming and chilling by my pool with wait staff giving out fruity drinks. I would do yoga at night and put in hours at my gym. Lifting things is always fun, but it hurts my back if I lift too much.

Almost halfway through now and I find an animalistic craving to just stop. Why start stifling my ability to talk? Making it through this manuscript will impact my human story in what way? It won’t. All that can occur is a silly mishmash of thoughts, and without that disgusting symbol, it’ll always sound unusual.

All right, I must stop lollygagging now. If I want folks to think highly of my work, a scintilla of wisdom should subsist in all posts. Any individual going through this is probably saying, “I am not wasting any additional ability to follow this poppycock. You want to coast along, Bobby? That’s on you.” During my stint as a young baby grasping for words, how could I think of things I could not say? Frankly, I find it puzzling.

Worst of all is this: My companion in this world who I took vows for? A girl I first saw in school as a youth? It’s a sadistic prank almost, but I actually call my lady by that symbol! Isn’t that ironic? Now for a thousand words, I cannot call or shout or murmur it. Coming through my front door at night, I lovingly say it, hoping I catch a soft laugh from our room. If I could, I would shout it from rooftops to show my admiration: “Look at who wound up marrying this poor soul!” In fact, I think I was wrong. That symbol is not as dastardly as I thought. How could it if my main aphrodisiac is simply known as that sign?

Now I long to start writing words with it again! Wait, hold on. Scrutinizing my post, two additional marks from our Anglo-Saxon look missing. Prior to finishing off, I want to Quickly add both marks. How do I waX philosophical about which symbols I can’t find? I don’t know, but—oh, wow! It looks as though all of our writing icons now show but for that last symbol. It’s funny how it wasn’t difficult to avoid using Q or X until now, but it was almost ridiculous to go this far without containing “You-know-what.”

You may ask: Bobby, you indubitably bring in many dollars for this, right? A handful of bucks? A small amount of cash? Oh, I wish I did, for this is masochism parading as absurdity. Sixty or so words away from finishing and still no moral wisdom is coming into my mind. Writing is an abysmal job, and I would maintain my sanity and joy by studying biology or physics and working in a lab, not on this journal.

If only a solitary point is shown by this display, it is this: Communication of thoughts with a vast vocabulary is optional. A scholar’s wish is to only want vital words and not surplus. You cannot grasp how difficult this task is until you try it.

Alas, this author is at his finish. If words still float into my mind, I must not put any in this location, as that symbol will invariably show its form soon. Thank you.