We like nouns.
We like to call things what they are.
Verbs are harder. (We don’t like them as much.)
Verbs are fleeting. We cannot hold verbs, ensure they are the right weight. We must rely on memory. Good memory is not redundant.
We expect nouns to do noun-stuff. We are surprised when another noun is better at that noun-stuff. This seems unfair to the former.
We prefer nouns with adjectives over sesquipedalia. A new thing feels sturdier than a creation.
Simple, concrete architypes. Add the flourish.
Nouns are inherently interesting. Nouns are soothing.
A noun nouning builds confidence that, indeed, this noun is well-named. A bridge that bridges. Glue that glues. Parents that parent.
Nouns, however, need not always noun and this complicates matters.
A friend betrays.
Verbs can overwrite nouns irredeemably.
We do not like change.
Adverbs weaken verbs—I strongly suggest while unabashedly splitting the infinitive—whereas nouns take adjectives in stride.
A glass hammer is still a hammer.
At least once.
We noun verbs for convenience. Heft loss is acceptable.
Sometimes we verb nouns. They land hard.
I ghost those who deserve it.
Gerunds remain servicable.
I am leaving you.
But lack flair.
Nouns are certain. Definitive.
Verbs connote action. Allow for incongruity.
Nouns not nouning challenge us. We love “to be” in all its forms: is, are, am. We crave more information about nouns. Their essence. Their being. Conflicting behavior, less so. We do not like to be challenged.
We like to call things what they are.
We like nouns.