Monday, May 12, 2003

SARSCASTIC I don’t wish to

SARSCASTIC

I don’t wish to minimize the seriousness of the new epidemic of respiratory illness that has laid low so many good people in Asia and elsewhere.  I don not amuse myself with the suffering of others, nor with crises that frighten billions, rock economies, and threaten international relations.  This is all serious stuff, and I take it seriously.  I have to take something seriously, after all. 

But I do think that this disease would be taken even more seriously, treated with the sober dread it deserves, with a different name.  Think of the classics: “Plague”: the word means pandemic, evokes images of continents infected and agonizing.  “Influenza”: with the same root word as “influence,” this brings to mind an unseen, unstoppable curse that will seek you out as surely as will the light of the moon.  “Cholera:” the name means bilious, describing victims writhing in grippe and distress. 

Then there’s SARS.  Thousands of medicine’s best minds are working on curing it, preventing it, unlocking its secrets and disarming it.  Obviously, none of those doctors double-majored in marketing.  “SARS” sounds like somebody’s Norwegian uncle, not a deadly illness.  Couldn’t we have come up with a name as serious as the disease?  “Severe Acute” doesn’t say “unseen hand of pestilence” or “nations on their deathbeds” or any such thing to me.  It just says “we couldn’t think of a noun so we used some adjectives.” And not even good juicy adjectives, like “fatal” or “infectious” or “moribund.” “Severe Acute” is to “acute” as “fucking serious” is to “serious.” It adds only emphasis, not significance. 

It reminded Kel of the mysterious boxes we see people carting around CostCo, boxes that take up a frighteningly large part of the Escalade-sized carts that haunt those echoing aisles, boxes that read “Creamy Liquid Frying Shortening.” In Mad Libs this is “Adjective Adjective Adjective Gerund.” (Yes, I always bought the “SmartAss Edition” of Mad Libs.  Call it niche marketing.) That’s the kind of name that sends a chill down my spine, both because I know what they’re describing - a thick oleagenous product in which food can be superheated and made impervious to both liquid and time - and because it’s a series of descriptive words that would be better replaced with a single cheerful denominative, like “Goop-o” or “Fritterola” or “AngelWhip.” (AngelWhip can be used for a lot of products, actually.  You might even wind up using some of them together.  “Smear your Angel Whip with AngelWhip for added flexibrication...")

But at least C.L.F.S. says something, though it makes a poor acronym.  With a little more effort SARS could have been a more meaningful name too.  “Shuddering Adversity Respiratory Syndrome.” “Sick And Really Sorry.” “Sino-Asiatic Remedy Search.” But instead we have to muddle along with a name that says, basically, “awfully bad cough disease.” That would be ABCD.  I think that acronym is still available, but it’s hard to say.  CYLUS is a little better: Cough Your Lungs Up Syndrome.  Now that would get everybody’s attention.