A Clockwork Poker

Orange thinks it’s so special.  Well I’m sick of it.  Just taking everyone along for the ride, acting like no one would ever challenge its ridiculous claims of supremacy.  Well Orange was wrong.  Orange will rue the day it crossed me.

First, Orange somehow cultivated this false mystery that the fruit and the color gave rise to some sort of chicken-and-egg paradox, and no one could tell which was named first.  The fruit was named first.  It comes from French, “pomme d’orenge,” which comes from Arabic/Persian “naranj.”  Before that lexicographical incorporation English speaking people used to call the color geoluread (which is old English speak for “yellow-red”).  Because old English people were not very clever.

Is this an amazing revelation?  No.  We use characteristically colored objects to refer to colors all the time.  Like lavender.  Or turquoise.  Have you ever walked into a paint store?  My foyer is painted “Japanese maple” and my kitchen/dining room where you all play poker is “teabag.”  If I was Lavender I would be pissed off that people don’t muse about the origins of my name when they are stoned.  Orange does not deserve a monopoly on that shit.

Orange also does not deserve a monopoly on the rhyme myth.  People are constantly making jokes that nothing rhymes with Orange.  There is even a comic strip entitled “Rhymes with Orange” like that’s so tongue-in-cheek.  Plenty of stuff rhymes with Orange.  It ends in the “inge” sound.  Binge, singe, tinge.  Even if you insist that the “r” is part of the final syllable, you still have cringe and fringe.  Not good enough?  Do you subscribe to some stricter rhyming dogma where only two-syllable words can rhyme two-syllable words?  Syringe.  Oh, but the emphasis is on the wrong syllable, so it doesn’t count?  Lozenge.

Why would anyone try to rhyme “orange” with borange, morange, porange, and then declare defeat?  A word doesn’t have to end with the entire word “orange” in order to rhyme with “orange.”  That’s not what rhyming means.  How did Orange trick the entire world into forgetting the definition of “rhyme,” and then take all the glory for being unrhymable? If I was Purple, I would be pissed as hell.

I’m not sure how anti-orangism segues into poker, but we have to get there somehow, so tonight at poker we will be serving clementine oranges and screwdrivers.  [—–].  Yours truly will not be joining until late because I have choir practice, so be sure to RSVP with sufficient specificity to enable Goodman to pin down quorum.  Also be prepared to rhyme purportedly unrhymable words.

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