Aibohphobia
Does the title of this week’s column cause your brow to furrow? Unfamiliar with the word, did you search through a dictionary looking for its meaning, only to not find it listed? Perhaps, you might then have posited, it is a new term being tossed around that some are trying to worm into general usage. If so, don’t panic. True, it isn’t a real word and, no, it isn’t some hipster speech we of former generations have been oblivious to. It is, in fact, a word someone suggested to mean “the fear of palindromes.” The same person recommends “Ailihphilia” for the opposite meaning. Are you still unclear? Read both words backwards; I’ll wait … That’s correct, kids, the words themselves are palindromes.
My introduction to palindromes came when I was about 14 years old. I was at a friend’s house and we had just finished watching the television show “Star Trek” and were looking for something else to do. My friend’s dad approached us with a mischievous glint in his eyes (a common look for him, incidentally), and suggested we try to create a palindrome. We simultaneously said, “Huh?”
He explained what it is and then told us the very first palindrome was uttered by Adam in the Garden of Eden who, upon seeing Eve for the first time, said “Madam, I’m Adam.” Her reply, according to my friend’s dad, was, “Eve.”
As much as we tried, we never got far in creating a palindrome of our own, but I would forever after remember that happy memory whenever I came across a palindrome. Several years later I learned a bit more about them and learned that my friend’s father’s claim for the first palindrome is somewhat suspect, as archeologists excavating the Ancient Roman town of Herculaneum—which was buried under lava from the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79 A.D.—discovered this graffito from around 70 A.D.: “Sator Arepo tenet opera rotas.” If your Latin is a bit rusty, this translates to either “The sower Arepo holds the wheels with effort,” or “The sower Arepo leads with his hand the plough.”
What I’d like to know is, did Arepo write this as an advertisement for his work, was it a joke left by a friend, or the first non-online business review? Much more importantly, did the author realize that this sentence is a palindrome? Inquiring minds want to know!
The first palindrome to appear in print was published by the English poet John Taylor in 1614. Within a poem he wrote, “Lewd did I live, evil I did dwel.” Once again I wonder if the author realized what he had created.
I have to say that I enjoy reading palindromes, even though most of the ones I’ve seen aren’t worth reading. Allow me to explain. Palindromes, as I have found them, fall into three categories: words, the silly, and the thoughtful. Ready, gang? Here goes.
Word palindromes are just that—words. Anyone can find them online or by browsing through a dictionary. Some examples include racecar, toot, lulu, mom, solos, and my personal favorite, tattarrattat which is the longest palindromic word, and defined in the Oxford English Dictionary as “’a knock at the door.”
Silly palindromes prove someone could string together any number of palindromic words, but often the resultant sentences make no sense. Others, however, can be amusing. Some of these are:
Tulsa night life: filth, gin, a slut.
A butt tuba
A Toyota. Race fast, safe car. A Toyota
Step on no pets
Sit on a potato pan, Otis!
Mr. Owl ate my metal worm.
Neil, an alien? (My apologies to Mr. Schultes)
So, Ida, adios.
May a moody baby doom a yam?
T. Eliot, top bard, notes putrid tang emanating, is sad, I’d assign it a name: gnat dirt upset on drab pot toilet.
And here are two that get points for effort, if nothing else:
Do good? I? No. Evil anon I deliver. I maim nine more hero-men in Saginaw, sanitary sword a-tuck, Carol, I. Lo! Rack, cut a drowsy rat in Aswan. I gas nine more hero-men in Miami. Reviled, I (Nona) live on. I do, O God.
Dennis, Nell, Edna, Leon, Nedra, Anita, Rolf, Nora, Alice, Carol, Leo, Jane, Reed, Dena, Dale, Basil, Rae, Penny, Lana, Dave, Denny, Lena, Ida, Bernadette, Ben, Ray, Lila, Nina, Jo, Ira, Mara, Sara, Mario, Jan, Ina, Lily, Arne, Bette, Dan, Reba, Diane, Lynn, Ed, Eva, Dana, Lynne, Pearl, Isabel, Ada, Ned, Dee, Rena, Joel, Lora, Cecil, Aaron, Flora, Tina, Arden, Noel, and Ellen sinned. (Whew!)
This leaves us examining the third and final category, the thoughtful. For me, these are palindromes that can be amusing or serious, but could easily be sentences one might utter (hmmm, now I’m questioning if the “Neil, an alien” sentence is really silly, or one that has been used after Finance Committee meetings). Thoughtful palindromes include:
A man, a plan, a canal: Panama. (We’ll be revisiting this one later.)
Norma is as selfless as I am, Ron.
Do geese see God?
Wontons? Not now.
Was it a car or a cat I saw?
Ah, Satan sees Natasha.
Did Hannah see bees? Hannah did.
Reviled did I live, said I, as evil I did deliver.
Are we not drawn onward, we few, drawn onward to new era?
Dogma? I am God.
Ed, I saw Harpo Marx ram Oprah W. aside.
Eva, can I stab bats in a cave?
Live not on evil, madam, live not on evil.
Now, Ned, I am a maiden nun. Ned, I am a maiden won.
We will now revisit the Panama palindrome. This one, which you were likely aware of already—it has been quite well known for a long time—became a minor obsession of Dan Hoey who, with the aid of a computer program he created, came up with five variants of the Panama palindrome, the most complex being:
“A man, a plan, a caret, a ban, a myriad, a sum, a lac, a liar, a hoop, a pint, a catalpa, a gas, an oil, a bird, a yell, a vat, a caw, a pax, a wag, a tax, a nay, a ram, a cap, a yam, a gay, a tsar, a wall, a car, a luger, a ward, a bin, a woman, a vassal, a wolf, a tuna, a nit, a pall, a fret, a watt, a bay, a daub, a tan, a cab, a datum, a gall, a hat, a fag, a zap, a say, a jaw, a lay, a wet, a gallop, a tug, a trot, a trap, a tram, a torr, a caper, a top, a tonk, a toll, a ball, a fair, a sax, a minim, a tenor, a bass, a passer, a capital, a rut, an amen, a ted, a cabal, a tang, a sun, an ass, a maw, a sag, a jam, a dam, a sub, a salt, an axon, a sail, an ad, a wadi, a radian, a room, a rood, a rip, a tad, a pariah, a revel, a reel, a reed, a pool, a plug, a pin, a peek, a parabola, a dog, a pat, a cud, a nu, a fan, a pal, a rum, a nod, an eta, a lag, an eel, a batik, a mug, a mot, a nap, a maxim, a mood, a leek, a grub, a gob, a gel, a drab, a citadel, a total, a cedar, a tap, a gag, a rat, a manor, a bar, a gal, a cola, a pap, a yaw, a tab, a raj, a gab, a nag, a pagan, a bag, a jar, a bat, a way, a papa, a local, a gar, a baron, a mat, a rag, a gap, a tar, a decal, a tot, a led, a tic, a bard, a leg, a bog, a burg, a keel, a doom, a mix, a map, an atom, a gum, a kit, a baleen, a gala, a ten, a don, a mural, a pan, a faun, a ducat, a pagoda, a lob, a rap, a keep, a nip, a gulp, a loop, a deer, a leer, a lever, a hair, a pad, a tapir, a door, a moor, an aid, a raid, a wad, an alias, an ox, an atlas, a bus, a madam, a jag, a saw, a mass, an anus, a gnat, a lab, a cadet, an em, a natural, a tip, a caress, a pass, a baronet, a minimax, a sari, a fall, a ballot, a knot, a pot, a rep, a carrot, a mart, a part, a tort, a gut, a poll, a gateway, a law, a jay, a sap, a zag, a fat, a hall, a gamut, a dab, a can, a tabu, a day, a batt, a waterfall, a patina, a nut, a flow, a lass, a van, a mow, a nib, a draw, a regular, a call, a war, a stay, a gam, a yap, a cam, a ray, an ax, a tag, a wax, a paw, a cat, a valley, a drib, a lion, a saga, a plat, a catnip, a pooh, a rail, a calamus, a dairyman, a bater, a canal – Panama!”
At 544 words, this became the longest palindrome ever created (albeit by a computer, Mr. Hoey gets some credit for creating the software), and remained so for, well, not very long. Others have created programs that have extended the “A man, a, plan, Panama” to the latest record-holder which, at 21,012 words is a bit too long to reprint in this column.
Perhaps now you see the skill set patterns that humans need to create the sentences. Finding individual words requires little skill. Finding several words that form a sentence requires skill and imagination. But being able to create an intelligent and at least somewhat thoughtful sentence requires a black belt in palindrome creation.
Although I tried many times over many years to create a palindrome, success was never knocking on my front door. But last week I realized that thanks to the resources available via the World Wide Web, I could learn the technique for recognizing the patterns. Well, my friends, it is with sadness I report I could not. It seems to me that the minds that can look at Rubik’s Cubes and then solve them very quickly are the same minds that can create palindromes. This is a mind I lack.
And that bothers me, as it was my hope to create a thoughtful palindrome that would center on SUUS, which of course is a word palindrome. As much as I tried, as hard as I concentrated, the best I could do was to come up with what turned out to be a logical statement made by one who had read through our Website, perhaps attended a service or two, grew excited about the power, compassion, love, and commitment this congregation has, only to read one of my columns and then mutter.
“Tut-tut SUUS, tut-tut.”
This week’s Street Advertising Smile:
