WARNING: If you’re short on time at the moment and have a list of even trivial things to do you should skip to the next article immediately. Only pass the next minute or two reading this essay if you wish to immerse yourself in an insignificant — possibly even a meaningless topic of interest to me and perhaps very few others.

Given the earth-shattering events taking place in our country and in the world these days (and I’m speaking literally here) I would completely understand if you turned the page and did not want to waste even a moment on nonsense. No offense taken, but in order for me to continue solving all the world’s problems as I have been doing for 81 years, I find that I periodically must take a trip into the absurd to clear my head. My journey is what follows. Remember, I warned you.

One of the greatest disappointments in my life has been the inability to become fluent in a foreign language — despite trying very hard to do so. I have taken 12 years of formal French instruction and even lived in France for six months. Pas un (I mean “une”) chance. My embarrassing failure in this effort has often led me to think about the nature of language in strange, unconventional, and peculiar ways — hence what follows.

I’d like to be able to say that my great concern for helping mankind (Oops, I mean “personkind”) has led me to tackle the two conundrums I’m highlighting here. But that would be a lie. As mentioned above, I simply got the idea, because I needed a break from the sturm und drang of today’s world. If this discussion illuminates anything for anybody, it’s just by pure chance alone.

Let’s begin with the first of the two language issues I alluded to above. I wish I could say that I took on this project with the understanding that people from different parts of the world (heck in my case even kids from different neighborhoods in the Bronx) might utter the exact same words but be trying to communicate diametrically opposite meaning and that this might be contributing to the turmoil we face now. In all honesty, however, I am forced to admit that’s not the case. I wish it were. I’d like to say that I had the idea that its solution would help halt the division between Ukraine and Russia, Iran and the U.S., Republicans and Democrats. (At least give me credit for realizing nothing can bridge the chasm between the Red Sox and Yankees.) Nope. I simply decided to deal with it as a diversion and give my brain a break from daily, world anxiety.

This first example has a name, actually two names. It’s called “Contronym.” I prefer its other moniker, “Janus Word.” It’s named after the Roman god, Janus, God of beginnings, transitions, and endings. The god has two heads facing in different directions. Here are some examples of Janus Words: Cleave — split apart or adhere to; Sanction — allow or penalize; Bolt — secure or run away. Interesting? (persuasive or confusing?)

While trying to answer that question, another (though related) issue captured my attention — the use of cliches/idioms used in different languages that refer to the same point but use very different words. I spend lots of time in Switzerland so I’ll compare the English phrase to the literal translation of the Swiss-German one: Water under the bridge — snow fromyesterday; I don’t get what you’re saying — I’m standing on the hose; Good for nothing — that doesn’t make the roast  fatty.

No wonder language acquisition and comprehension is difficult for me. No matter.  My head is clearer now which was the whole point of this exercise. By the way, how’s your head now? I had a “high time” writing this, and it’s “high time” I stopped.

Jonathan Kahane lives in Westhampton.