Neolo-jism

Hi guys!*

Do you know the feeling, when you’ve just composed a stimulating and amorously intentioned message, and you’re selecting the recipient from your contacts? Those several milliseconds of terror when you realise you might select the wrong person? Or even worse… you might just have selected the wrong person?

I get it every time. And since I don’t get it nearly as often as a red-blooded Yorkshire lad might wish to, ‘every time’ can mean moderately frequently.

I’m sure I’m not alone. It’s perhaps not as common as arachibutyrophobia or hierophobia. Recent weeks have shown it is certainly not as prevalent as pyronecrodendrophobia. But I’m fairly sure that I’m not the only one who panics about textuality regularly. I bet Tiger Woods does.

Always one to spot and exploit a promising gap in the market, I figured this creepy little feeling needed naming. So I cast my net out to my dear friends on Twitter and asked for help from a classicist. Or at least someone with a name that sounds a bit more Greek than mine.

The splendid Milton Mermikides delivered. Chicks and cocks, may I present the fear of mis-sending a romantic message:

Misagapiminemaphobia.

You may now wonder how it comes that I suffer this terror so regularly.

Is it because I am British and therefore a congenital sufferer of extremes of private kink and public reservation?

Is it because I am in a long-distance relationship, and naturally send more than the national average of saucy messages?

No. My terror has at its root the prosaic fact that ‘Jasmine’, my sweetheart‘s beautiful appellation, is alphabetically chillingly close…

…to ‘Jason‘.

It’s going to happen. One day it’s going to happen and I will never live it down.

___
* In b4 ‘blog moar’. You can subscribe to more than one, you know. Try Hyperbole and a Half, Evolving Thoughts or even @drunkenmadman in the meantime…

One Comment

  1. Posted September 24, 2010 at 02:06 | Permalink

    Done that.

    Drunkenmadman got an email intended for Jason Ball, recently. :/

    Now he knows that I threaten to smack Digital Cuttlefish on the nose with rolled-up newspaper when he doesn’t do my bidding. :(

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