It would never occur to me to describe ears as “handsome volutes to the human capital.” That it did to Charles Lamb, who also called them “ingenious labyrinthine inlets” and “indispensable side-intelligencers,” says one thing about him and something else entirely about me, but it says something, too, about the linguistic environment where volutes to the human capital can thrive. Whether because of the Internet or some other mysterious, homogenizing influence, our language has lost some biodiversity. Even our obscenities—the parts of language least likely to lose their verve—have dwindled, and the survivors have dulled from overuse. “You've got balls,” we say, when once we could have yelled that “the testimonies of your Manhood are swell'd as big, Sirrah, as a couple of Norfolk dumplings!” Where we use mean hypotheticals, like "I would love to have the ability to make you sore," our ancestors promised each other nights spent “in prigging, wapping, and telling of drunken stories.” READ MORE