The Phonetic Alphabet (Part II)

Not long ago we ran a Good/Bad/Ugly rating of the phonetic alphabet. Of course, being an alphabet, it has 26 components, which makes for one long article. So the previous rating was only of the first half of the phonetic alphabet, from Alpha to Mike. If you haven't read it, you might want to read that, along with the rationale behind doing a G/B/U rating of an alphabet, before continuing this article. But if you have already read part I, you're ready for part II.

November: It's hard to dis the month in which one was born, especially when it's the month when one's new baby is due. I like it fine as a month — it serves a vital role buffering the Christmas season from the rest of the year, and it's a good anchor for the 30 days bit of that old days in the month rhyme, but November is just too clunky to be in the phonetic alphabet. And it's a bit hard to remember, which is also Bad.

Oscar: One of many proper names in the phonetic alphabet, this one is a little different. The others are either rather common, or rather Shakespearean, but Oscar? Sure, there's the trashcan-dwelling grouch, the weiner brand, the movie award, the misspelled broom, and the old guy on Corner Gas, but in the real world, have you ever met anyone named Oscar? I sure haven't. Names that are ostensibly common but that no one actually uses are just Bad.

Papa: I'm sure I could find something negative about this one if I really wanted to, but you know what? It's fine. It's simple, short, easy to pronounce, it gets the meaning across without confusion, and a three year old can say it without difficulty. These are all Good things.

Quebec: Depending on how you pronounce it, this one might actually start with the Queue sound, or it might start with a Kwi sound, or maybe a Kee sound. So basically you can pronounce it however the heck you feel like it. I don't know about you, but I think that ad hoc pronunciations have no place in a standardized phonetic alphabet and like the old tah-may-toe/tah-mah-toe debate, are generally Bad.

Romeo: Along with Juliet, Romeo forms a nice little Shakespearean pair in the phonetic alphabet, wanting to be together, but forever separated by Kilo through Quebec. A little drama is a Good thing.

Sierra: There are a lot of words that start with S, so why the phonetic alphabet contains this word is unknown, and unfortunate. Sierra is a word from Spanish referring to a jagged mountain range. Ciera is pronounced exactly the same and was a mid-sized model of Oldsmobile for about 15 years. The Oldsmobile, the Cutlass Ciera to be exact, was not a particularly strong seller, probably because it was somewhat Ugly.

Tango: Along with Foxtrot, this is the other dance in the phonetic alphabet. Of course, I made a point to slam foxtrot in part I, saying that ballroom dance was a bad source of inspiration for a military alphabet. But Tango just has that certain something that foxtrot just doesn't possess. It's cool and Good in a way that Foxtrot can never understand.

Uniform: If the alphabet was like a city, U and V would serve as that two block zone that separates the high property value neighbourhood of T, S, and R from the slums that follow. The letters just don't get used as often, and it really feels like the people who conceived of the phonetic alphabet were running out of ideas, and someone just said "Let's get this done, M.A.S.H. is on in 30 minutes." Considering that it was probably military people working on the phonetic alphabet, and they were likely wearing uniforms at the time, the level of imagination required is low. Just be thankful that we don't have to deal with S as in Shrapnel or F as in Flak Jacket. That would be Bad.

Victor: Like Charlie, Delta, and Tango, Victor is one of those classic phonetic alphabet words that everyone knows and everyone loves. It's simple and to the point and it sounds strong. It has to be Good.

Whiskey: This is one that people who don't use the phonetic alphabet on a frequent basis can never remember. It seems an odd choice, considering it's the only beverage on the list, and there are plenty of proper names that could have been used instead. What's more, it almost rhymes with Yankee, which solidifies it as a Bad choice.

X-ray: There are not many words that start with X, and easily half of those sound like they should really start with Z. One almost wonders what the point of having the letter X is at all, considering that Z and the CKS combo can do all the work of X, well, apart from X-Files, X-Men, X-Box and marking the spot. Who wants to watch Z-Files or CKS-Men , play a game on a Z-Box or dig for pirate booty at a spot marked CKS on a parchment map? X is basically useless, but inexplicably popular. It's like Carson Daly, only most of the stuff it gets associated with is actually Good.

Yankee: American nationalism has been ubiquitous for, well, a lot longer than I've been on the planet. It's rampant in American movies, music, television, web sites. The USA is unquestionably loud and proud. Subtlety is not generally considered America's strong suit. But slipping the word Yankee into the tail end of the phonetic alphabet is a stroke of subtle genius. It's not like using America for A, or Lincoln for L. No, it's almost flying below the radar at this end of the alphabet. This might get mail, but rabid nationalism of any flavour, American or other, tends strongly toward Ugly.

Zulu: This letter suffers from many of the same problems as X, but it lacks the cool factor. There just aren't many good Z words, and the result is that the phonetic alphabet ends with a whimper, which is unfortunate and generally Bad.