While awaiting Hades, who found himself in a high-stakes tale, we share a modern original tale about communication, divine wrath, and ingenuity; the Tale of Verbali Dio City, Miniepisode 18.5 of Fireside Folklore with Hades

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Hermes: Greetings, esteemed listeners of 'Fireside Folklore with Hades.' It's Hermes here, your guide to the whimsical and wise. Today, our beloved Uncle Hades is entwined in a tale of such high stakes that even the Fates are holding their breath. Being the messenger god, he summoned me to his palace at once and we put our heads together to come up with a solution to tide us over until the resolution of his most recent entanglement. 

Here, for your enjoyment, is 'The Tale of Verbali Dio City,' a story created by the visionary conduit of this podcast, Tiffany J. Kim. As the artist behind this podcast, Tiffany's unique perspective as a blind author brings a depth and richness to this narrative, exploring the power and beauty of language in a way only she can.

So, as we eagerly await the resolution of Hades' epic journey, let us delve into a tale that speaks to the heart of communication, crafted under my divine inspiration and brought to life through Tiffany's experience and creativity. Prepare to be enchanted and enlightened, as we journey through Verbali Dio City. 

Given my voice is, (shall we say), not the best suited for reading, my brother Dionysus will do the honors. 

Dionysus: Once upon a time, in a land called Verbali Dio City, its people had become so accustomed to using acronyms and emoticons, that communication had degraded to a point where its people no longer knew how to use words in a meaningful and eloquent way. In fact, it would have been fair to say that it was the rare Verbalidiotian  who could string together a coherent sentence. A typical conversation might go like this, “Hi. How r u?” “Gr8.” “G2g.” 

It was quite a sad state of affairs, and this city’s patron god, who also happened to be the god of wit and wordplay, was not at all pleased, to say the least. Whenever he chanced to listen to the people he had vowed to protect, it made him cringe. His food, you see, was not nectar or ambrosia.  No sir. He gained his sustenance and energy whenever people used words—the more eloquent and varied, the better. So, as you can probably guess, this god had been eating a diet of stale, hackneyed, and uninteresting words. LOL, gr8, and g2g was getting incredibly boring, and being immortal, he knew that this wouldn’t be ending anytime soon unless he did something about it. 

Zeus: That’s it!

Dionysus: He exclaimed one morning, when an emoticon, the 😈 to be exact, landed on his breakfast plate. It was a grey and green globule, not unlike something that had been blown out of a human nose. He didn’t doubt that it probably tasted just as disgusting as it looked. Nonetheless, it was all he got that morning, and he had no choice but to eat it, if he wanted anything at all that day. 

Zeus: This pathetic excuse for communication tastes acrid and brackish, like seawater that has been sitting in a glass, collecting scum for weeks! This is a personal insult that I can no longer abide. If these Verbalidiotians cannot use the gift of eloquence that I have so graciously bestowed upon them, then it should be revoked until they develop an appreciation for it. From this point forth, none of them will be able to speak a word that has less than four letters in length. Once a mortal adept enough with language produces an entreaty that properly uses words as they were intended, then and only then shall I lift my curse.

Dionysus: At first, none of the Verbalidiotians  noticed that anything was amiss, for you see, it was just as easy to use hand signals, nods, and facial expressions as it was to rely on emoticons and acronyms like LOL. This god, Elucution, had not removed the ability for the Verbalidiotians to scream, to laugh, cry, or grunt, so they took to relying on such primitive noises to get their point across. He was a patient and deliberate deity, however, and although the magnitude of his wrath was epic in nature, there was nothing haphazard or impulsive about the curse that had befallen the people. It might take time, and there would be many dry days without a single sacrifice, but ultimately, he knew that this approach would bring about a long-standing beneficial change to Verbali Dio City. 

Sure enough, after awhile of grunting and growling, the people began to feel restless. It dawned on them that snuffling and snorting was not a way to express such things as love and admiration, and growling when angry made these townsfolk no better than wild animals. Besides this, words were more than just a way to exchange greetings and conduct business. Words were also part of the music that these Verbalidiotians loved to hear, despite the fact that the past five decades had only produced songs bearing lyrics that consisted of monosyllabic words, most of which were less than four letters in length. Not even the recordings of songs such as “LOL Jig” had escaped from this wrathful god’s curse. Just about every single word in every single one of those songs had been wiped right off of the recordings. Books too, had suffered the same fate, though Verbalidiotians mainly enjoyed graphic novels, coloring books, and comics, and many of these, (in recent years), had devolved into a sea of pictures. It would have been fair to say that children read “word books”, and quickly graduated to picture books once the necessities such as me, I you, and my, not to mention the aforementioned LOL and gr8 had been mastered. 

While all of this was going on, there was one lone Verbalidiotian by the name of Blotch who began to realize that not all words seemed to have been taken from him. In fact, as he tried saying different things, he realized that he was, in fact, able to utter most words, provided they were long enough. And why might this Blotch still even be using words of such length in such a tacit town?, you ask. While playing on the Verbalidiotian Vipers basketball team, he had sustained an accident and had become blind. Not being one who would readily accept a world of darkness and despair, Blotch had decided to learn to adapt to this new normal and taught himself to use Braille. He pored over books from eras gone by, and in particular, realized that he enjoyed the literature from a place that had once been known as Russia. Fyodor Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment had turned out to be one of his favorite works, though he dabbled in many different genres. 

This curse must have originated from Elucution, Blotch thought, as he sat at his desk with a slate, attempting to work on a treatise dealing with, of all things, the long-forgotten deities of the land. Not even he had heard about Elucution until he had done some research into tomes of mythology that had been written many decades ago. He had discovered that Elucution was the patron god of this land. Being the god of wordplay and wit, his sacrifices were not cows, goats, wine, or fruit, but rather, the use of words throughout one’s daily life. Known for being a rather gentle and easygoing deity, Blotch realized that Elucution must have become quite fed up to have laid such a curse upon the people of this land. After all, if no words were being used, then he was purposefully foregoing the sacrifices that he might have otherwise received.  

Blotch had to admit that he was glad he didn’t have to hear the people use words like LOL, gr8, g2g, and SMH, but having nothing to hear but growls, grunts and groans, coupled with an inability to use articles like the, and conjunctions such as and was a bit of an annoyance, not to mention that it often made things in his treatise sound pretentious, wordy, and nonsensical. 

Apollo: Elucution, godly overlord presiding over banter plus charismatic employer apropos verbal acumen … 

Dionysus: this would never do. He wondered what it would take to stir compassion within this god’s heart. 

As he pondered this conundrum, it occurred to him that a god of wit and wordplay would most likely appreciate something creative and crafty comprised of words. A poem? A story? An ode? Whatever it was, it would need to be made up of words that were four letters in length or more. This would create an epic sacrifice, the likes of which he probably had not received in many decades, if not centuries. Blotch, who had become a prolific reader, had never heard of this deity, so what were the odds that any of the fellow Verbalidiotians knew such a being existed, much less have developed any appreciation or respect for this deity and his mighty power? 

Perhaps, Blotch thought, as he allowed himself to begin pondering some way to lift the curse, a well-written plea would melt Elucution’s heart enough to free the people of Verbali Dio City. Blotch hoped that Elucution could read Braille because that was now the only way that he could take down words. 

After letting out a sigh of determination, Blotch squared his shoulders, pulled out a fresh piece of paper then began composing words using his slate and stylus. 

Apollo: Almighty Elucution, 

Please forgive transgressions committed upon your honor because Verbalidiotians like myself lost sight, used words carelessly … 

Dionysus: What could he possibly substitute for the word “and”? He wondered, as he sat there looking at his words. 

Apollo: … then forgot about your existence. Patron deity, sacrifices that have come onto your plate have clearly been disappointments. Inexcusable actions against your good name brought this punishment, however, please accept this heartfelt request, consider setting terms enabling fellow villagers opportunities … 

Dionysus: Was there a word for to? How could he finish this in a meaningful way? Blotch sighed and stared blankly at the paper without any ideas on how to move forward. 

Apollo: … permitting some absolution since words have great value. Their loss makes this plea difficult without articles, conjunctions, also prepositions. Please, Lord Elucution, this sacrifice requests, prays, begs that your merciful assistance comes. Eternally grateful, kind Elucution, mighty Lord overseeing witty wordplay. 

Dionysus: Elucution, meanwhile, had been working on a crossword puzzle. These were a thing of the distant past, but it had been easy enough for him to unearth a copy of the New York Times, which mortals had once read, though the last one had been printed about a century ago. Suddenly, he found the page being assaulted by a shower of words. They were beautiful words, each one something delicious and delightful, the likes of which he had not seen in at least three decades. His emerald green eyes opened wide as this feast of words continued, until the last one, wordplay, came to rest atop this magnificent pile. 

In a complete daze, Elucution willed these words to arrange themselves as they had been written and read: 

Apollo: Almighty Elucution, 

Please forgive transgressions committed upon your honor because Verbalidiotians like myself lost sight, used words carelessly, then forgot about your existence. Patron deity, sacrifices that have come onto your plate have clearly been disappointments. Inexcusable actions against your good name brought this punishment, however, please accept this heartfelt request, consider setting terms enabling fellow villagers opportunities permitting some absolution since words have great value. Their loss makes this plea difficult without articles, conjunctions, also prepositions. Please, Lord Elucution, this sacrifice requests, prays, begs that your merciful assistance comes. Eternally grateful, kind Elucution, mighty Lord overseeing witty wordplay. 

Dionysus: The individual who had written this, without the use of any words that were less than four letters in length, had gotten his point across. Sure, this was no work of Shakespearean poetry. However, it had been clever, ingenious, and sincere. Elucution even noticed that this individual had snuck in a bit of wordplay. “Please forgive transgressions committed upon your honor because Verbalidiotians like myself lost sight …” The man had lost his sight in an accident, but he was also acknowledging that he had lost sight of the importance of words. This began thawing the block of ice that had formed around Elucution’s heart. A gentle smile began tugging at the corners of this deity’s mouth. His eyes, which had lately resembled two impassive glaciers, began to sparkle with compassion and amusement. 

The treatises of old had been correct. Elucution was not a particularly cruel or vengeful god. He had just been pushed to the breaking point, and this had brought about his curse. Thus, he was more than willing to lift it, but there needed to be a solution. Otherwise, things would soon become just as deplorable as they had been before. He stared at the words in front of him, and picked one up. Perhaps having a bit of sustenance would help him to think more clearly about the matter so that he could devise a solution. Whatever it was, he wanted to be sure that these mortals retained complete free will over their own destinies. It was neither his desire nor responsibility to oversee their verbal business, and anyway, forcing them to avoid their treasured LOL and Gr8 would lead to resentment, bitterness, and sacrifices tainted by their anger. How could he show these individuals that words, not acronyms or emoticons, but words themselves, could provide a deeper connection than any of these flimsy excuses that had passed for words? 

It then occurred to him that perhaps by honoring some of these Verbalidiotians’ requests—nothing that would greatly change the trajectory of their fates, of course—but the minor ones, like helping to get bubblegum off their shoes or helping them to make it just before the bus pulled away, he could show them that words were worth writing, reading, and preserving. If they sacrificed to him, then he would give them something that they could rely on, but in order to keep them from taking words for granted, he would require them to actually entreat him in a way that would be both soulful and creative. Not only this, but he wouldn’t always give them everything they wanted, lest they turn into self-centered and spoiled wretches. With this in mind, he wrote a response, which had to be done in Braille, for Elucution knew that the one who had entreated him was blind. The response read: 

Zeus: After receiving your entreaty, your words touched this deity’s heart, therefore consider that malediction limiting your words completely broken. To keep it this way, I shall assist you Verbalidiotians if you use your words when you seek out my assistance. Your requests must be spoken or written in a creative and soulful manner, and they must not contain any of those accursed emoticons and acronyms. They must be written like the books of old. I shall not fulfill any request that would cause harm to your fellow Verbalidiotians, and since I am a capricious deity, I shall not always answer your entreaties, but I shall do so at a rate of two to one. Let your fellow townspeople know this, please. 

Dionysus: It filled Elucution’s heart with pride that this lad, Blotch, had singlehandedly been able to save this godforsaken town. Then again, Elucution realized, not having the gift of sight had made this fellow rely upon words much more. How could a grunt convey something such as, “Trees currently block your path. Getting around this will require heading left.” This man’s perceived limitation had been the key to subverting the effects of the curse, and subsequently had helped to devise a solution that worked for everyone. Elucution had considered restoring this man’s vision, for this was something that he could do, but Blotch had not asked for this. More importantly however, Elucution suspected that these Verbalidiotians would quickly forget and take words for granted once again. Oh, it might not happen in this generation but in sixty years or so, he might have to lay his curse upon these mortals once more. It had been rather fun, he realized. Perhaps, as the patron god of this place, he should ensure that this town always had a blind person living within its borders, because without a clever and sensible individual who was forced to use words by virtue of having no eyesight, these townspeople would never be able to figure things out. Yes, he realized. That would be the way going forward. After all, he needed to insure that he never had to dine on the unimaginative, uninspiring, and banal acronyms, emoticons, and other disgusting excuses that those Verbalidiotians would try to pass off as words, ever again. 

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Hermes: And so, dear listeners, we hope you enjoyed this wild and wacky tale about the importance of language, and the power that we all have when it comes to bringing about change. Folklore is a living, breathing thing. Who knows? Perhaps this, or whimsical tales you write, will be read and acted out on a podcast many centuries from now. Until Uncle Hades returns to tell his tale, stay curious. 

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