The Life of H

There is nothing else in this world that is so minimal and yet so contentious. Actually no, but as far as the eighth letter in the alphabet goes, this one is a doozy.


The letter "H." One would think there is not much to be said about a letter who's form isn't much more the three slashes of a pen. It's phonetics—minimal. It's appearance—forgettable. Preference for more elaborate forms that grace the wondrous facade of ones own germ infested keyboard is to be expected. Then the rub is, well, is there one?

Is there a call for the "H" in this age of ever degrading mellenial bodies? If we can add a taco emoji into our lexicon, can we then just all agree to drop the dead weight. If your quiet enough you can hear hushed calls for h's removal from the history books. Or at the very least, it's erasal from fonthood. Should it be skipped from all 2nd grade spelling bees while simeltanouisly being passed over for conversations started of "Ello Sir." "Good day to you too!"?


If we can add a taco emoji into our lexicon, can we then just all agree to drop the dead weight.

Without doing any research of that nonsense, one is compelled to the side of nah. Not to say that one should be a total "H" groupie like some oppressed tween following the mildly upsetting and bergioning careers of a slightly older group of British boys singing karaoke on national tv. But yet, where would we be with out the woeful "H?" The, dare we say, most perfectly unperfect letter in the Latin Alphabet. Not sure, and that's not the point. The point is, what does this debate—if one can call it that—have to do with designers? 

Besides the obvious fact that we artsy folks deal in typography all god dam day, to really see the point of all this you have to take a long hard gander at what the letter "H" is all about. The letter "H"—according to the internet—is, well, look here. Mostly gibberish about fences and strange symbols. The main point is, in the English laungaue it's mostly silent. A letter that's not only everywhere but nowhere at the same time. A thing who's exact presence in conversation meant nothing to lost yet everything to others.

This highly contested debate where give or take three lines that equate to little more then a wheezy breath can be something of a lesson to us designers. Perhaps there, for real, is something to be learned from our friend the "H".

When you think about it, even though we deal in realm where most people pay no attention to the nuances of our work, its absolulty fucking everywhere. All the while, to a select few, something as small as two lines and a dash have the makings of a smackdown battle debate for the ages. Just like the letter "H". 


For more on the "H" look here.