The few may disagree with my contented roll into the phrase "impossible It" as a substitute for the little diddums idea of a ruling singularity where everything makes sense under the watchful eye of a creator. This adoption of an all knowing unknown is an aspect of mental surrender to supply and demand curves as substitutes for peer review is so heinous in my view it genuinely deserves an "R" word.
Here, I think it worth exploring a sociolinguistic phenomenon known as a 'euphemism treadmill.' To do that I'll paraphrase the Special Education Guide:
The word - Retard - originates with the Latin retardare, meaning to slow down or hinder, as in "Retardare that Train!" In the late 19th and mid-20th centuries, bushy tailed psychologists introduced the concept of mental retardation as a neutral, clinical diagnostic term. It was actually created to replace older and perfectly respectable terms like idiot, moron, and imbecile. These words had originally been serious medical classifications but thanks to our beloved euphemism treadmill the word "retard" quickly warped into a childish, both puerile and cretinous, taunt. Over the decades, the word "retard" suffered the exact same fate reserved for idiot, moron and imbecile as cheerfully the unwashed adopted this refreshing medical term "retard" as a newly rehearsed, well designed and legitimized explanation of stupid or foolish or useless jackass.
The Good Soldier Švejk, a character from Jaroslav Hašek's collection of satirical stories, had been categorized by the Austro-Hungarian Empire's conscription service as a Congenital Idiot. Švejk, especially when he ran foul of a non-commissioned office or an officer took every opportunity to introduce himself as a Congenital Idiot. Coming as it did from high authority, Švejk, surrounded as he was by the incomprehensible world of a private soldier in Hašek's First World War, had no issue with the category Congenital Idiot. It was a title that suited him, he was proud of it, it was one of the few things that made sense to him.
