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Yearning for 'ing': A Plea for the Return of Linguistic Harmony
I want my “ing” back. It doesn’t have to come beautifully wrapped with a bow on top, but those who took it need to hand it over unharmed. The “ing” I’m after is the one that used to be regularly associated with our clogged hospitals.
Once upon a time under the Australian system, patients were stuck on waiting lists, and all was right with the world of words. Now, they are just as likely to be on wait lists, facing long wait times while languishing amid linguistic anguishing over the frequent absence of the humble “ing”. Where’s the mercy? Give me an “i”, an “n” and a “g”.
Wait lists and, yes, wait times are elsewhere, too. The federal Department of Health and Aged Care unashamedly offers “wait time information” for home care packages. The Home Affairs Department, not known for being devoid of controversy in any area of its endeavors, talks about “ceremony wait times” for new citizens.
In conclusion, the absence of 'ing' from our linguistic landscape has created a void that resonates not only in words but also in the very fabric of our experiences. As we navigate wait lists and endure prolonged wait times, the humble 'ing' seems to be entangled in a web of bureaucratic complexities.
The nostalgia for a time when 'ing' was seamlessly woven into our expressions reflects a broader yearning for linguistic simplicity. Whether it be in the realm of health care or citizenship ceremonies, the plea for the return of 'ing' is a testament to the enduring power of language to shape our perceptions and experiences.
So, as we reflect on the 'ceremony wait times' and 'wait time information' that now dominate our discourse, let us not forget the essence of what we've lost. The 'ing' may seem small, but its absence has left an indelible mark on our linguistic landscape. In the spirit of linguistic mercy, may we soon witness the restoration of 'ing' to its rightful place, bringing back a sense of completeness to our words and our world.