On the occasion of transitioning to ""

What a magical thing the word "" is. The magic is not so much in the word itself, but how people use it.

For those who have not had the pleasure of learning Russian, "" is the familiar form of the pronoun "you." The concept of familiar and formal pronouns is alien to modern native English speakers.

We do not have an equivalent in modern English and the closest is the antiquated "thou," However, parallels exist in most major European languages. French and Spanish have "tu" and German say "du."

The switch from "" to "" is fraught with much more significance than its equivalents in other languages. It indicates that a certain boundary, either that of respect or of intimacy has been crossed.

The first of these is charged with negative meaning. If one goes from "" to "" in moments of anger, a certain loss of respect is implicit. This abrupt familiarity does not signify that you have suddenly grown closer to your interlocutor because he or she is sharing a powerful, innermost feeling with you. Quite the contrary -- you are being told, quite simply and elegantly, that you have done something to incur a loss of respect.

What of "" spoken not in anger? That is something completely different. That "" is something special. It is not something that you will achieve with everyone. I still address my grandmother who raised me as "." Most of my older friends and acquaintances are "."

But when you have reached that rarefied level of intimacy and friendship that permits you to go to "," you have achieved something extraordinary.

It is not automatic, nor is it usually a casual transition, one that passes almost unnoticed. One may slip into it accidently, but will almost certainly quickly ask the other's permission to address him or her informally.

So there is a small ritual associated with the transition that gives it the air of a special, intimate ceremony. It is no little thing to transition to "." And it warms the soul in a way that few experiences in human communication can.

Perhaps this is the essence of the magic that lies in all words, in any language -- it is not so much the meaning implicit in the words themselves as the way the user manipulates them to convey ideas. Thus words can be either be tools or a medium of art, depending on the communicator.

Each person employs them in a way that is completely unique, a way that defies exact imitation. Parody is the closest one can get to true verbal imitation.

The amount of creativity exercised in language use separates true artists from mere laborers in the verbal vineyard. It is not necessary to write prose or compose verse to be a verbal artist -- one must simply know how to express oneself with panache, originality, and wit.

The vehicle for expression -- writing, speaking or music -- is not important. It is the expression, what is said and how it is said that means everything. And the quantity of words used is unimportant.

Words are like jewels -- one does not need to wear a thousand diamonds to be dazzling. One diamond, if well-chosen, suffices to express all that must be conveyed. Such a diamond is the word "."