I somehow spent the end of the night writing about the impact a famous orc poet has had upon the orcish language:

“Language, revolution, love: Holding a mirror to the world, remembering how to breathe, knowing each breath I take belongs to you.”

Something else important to understand about Orcish as a language is that it functions kind of like a quantum language, where verbs always are a constant stream into which the speaker steps. So to cry in Orcish is to join in the crying that is constant and forever and endless

To fight in Orcish is to join in the eternal fight, this fight, all fights ever, and all fights yet to come. Words are important for orcs in that nothing can ever be taken lightly. Colonial perceptions render this as overly dramatic, but this is a fundamental misreading

When you truly dive into the compelxities of orcish language and culture, the melodrama fades away, and we come to see a complex system of histories tied to famous orc poets and collective Orcish memory, carried in the stream of orcish verb tense that surrounds us all

The easiest way, I realized, to give dignity to a people, is to tell others about what their poets and storytellers have to say. To speak of the ways their language works, and how these things are tied to their history. And to approach such a thing from a decolonial perspective