It's just as well dictionaries pay no heed to the principle of guilt by association. Otherwise literature's long line of fabulists would be lumped in with a second sense of the word, as "liars." [namely, "FABLE MAKER" both: "1. composer of fables AND 2. teller of tales; a liar."]
Certainly, Aesop, Brothers Grimm, Hans Christian Andersen, Jean De La Fontaine through George Orwell and James Thurber, and many others do make stuff up. But fable writers delight us with truths, for young readers through many much older–with tales like The Tortoise and the Hare, The Ugly Duckling or, more recently, the extended fairytales of Animal Farm and The Wonderful O.
Thank goodness for the charm of tales that spotlight a moral, or offer other enlightenment, or humor, or hope. Quite a contrast to some torturous, terror-filled tale-tellers today, especially the barbaric and wannabe tyrants who fill the airwaves with lies.
Nasties like these get their comeuppance though, when James Thurber amusingly explores in one of his fantasies, titled The Wonderful O, their theft of the letter "O." Thanks to someone in Oxford taking the trouble to count the occurrence of letters, we can know that "O" is 37-times more generally used than the letter "Q" in English. So the effect on people's communication in Thurber's fantasy kingdom is severe. And he takes readers delightfully through the difficulties and disruptions that the theft of "O" causes, as well as what happens [deleted spoiler alert] to that kingdom's thieving tyrants.
Just as well Thurber's nasties didn't steal the letter "E" of course, which the diligent Oxonian says is our favorite letter to use, at 57-times more than the letter "Q." It's also the most common letter in Czech, Danish, Dutch, French, German, Hungarian, Latin, Latvian, Norwegian, Spanish, Swedish, and some other languages. To see how challenging it would be to live with that theft, I had a go writing a tale not using our most popular letter. Writing as if a thief had won by stealing away use of the letter "E," the tale started like this:
"In a land not far away, in which birds roar and big cats sing, it is an Almost-KING who's ranting about what's what. Occasional pundits still parrot His almost-royal trash-talk, using what I think of as bigly words, or not, again, again, again, and again. Within this land now, all living things, or humans anyway, must cast a ballot to outlaw anything that's not what our Almost-KING calls "what," such as voting to ban or burn books–or, if you avoid voting, you must pay fifty dollars to the Almost-Royal Fund. With topsy also almost turvy, what's up is down and what is, is not..."
The first and only review (by my wife) of an earlier, longer version of this e-deficient tale was that she didn't know what on earth this meant. I'm guessing more was missing than just the familiar letter, "E." But give it a try yourself, if you like... not so nice to live without our favorite letter, eh?
Yet with that temporary E-drought broken for now, how should we feel about democracy denialists, who want us to live without FR' 'DOM... with it's two too many ee's? Of course, much more to lose with that theft... much more.
So, you've doubtless got the drift of Thurber's little book, The Wonderful O, which is more than totally worth the read–and it's an especially recommended read for THIS MONTH.
Oh, and please vote! Otherwise, just imagine the consequence of this being the last Halloween, just because that children's celebration clearly has too many ee's.
Amid the furore of such a theft, who'd even notice the departure of Milton's Paradise Lost. Oh yes, also, do I need to mention to make a memo to self that freedom is on the ballot too?!
And can you get others, who care, to VOTE? Or, as Sesame Street foretold, we're all in the hands of the Cookie Monster [2 minute video, here]. For eeee's sake.