Speak upward.
There is no up you cannot reach. There is no down you may touch. Point at the people who held the pen, never at the people the pen was used on.
soxi · doctrine · rev.01
It began with a dictionary entry for a word that does not exist.
entry as found · unedited
soxi
adjectiveold-fashioned
UK /ˈsɔː.si/ US /ˈsɑː.si/
Rude and showing no respect, or referring to sex, especially in a humorous way.
• a soxi remark / manner / look
not retired. buried.
Read the phonetics. That is saucy. Somebody respelled a real word and left the pronunciation untouched, which means the object announces its own trick to anyone who bothers to read carefully and stays invisible to everyone who does not.
Sauce meant backtalk — a servant with a mouth on them. To be saucy was to be insolent to your betters. It named the specific offence of speaking upward, out of turn, from below. Four centuries filed that into a wink at a postcard, and then a dictionary marked it old-fashioned, which is the polite way of saying this one is dead, do not worry about it.
The word did not change. The packaging did. That was enough.
soxi is a position before it is a tone.
It is not a style of rudeness and it is not a mood. It is the direction a thing is said in. The same sentence aimed downward is not soxi — it is the ordinary cruelty of people who already have standing, and there is nothing rare about that.
What makes something soxi is that it was said upward, by someone who was not supposed to speak, in a form too well made to dismiss. The insolence is not in the content. It is in the fact that the thing exists at all, and that it is better made than the people who wanted it scruffy expected.
Which is why it applies to a person as easily as to an object. A remark is soxi. A garment is soxi. A page is soxi. A person is soxi. The test is the same every time: where was it aimed, what did it cost, and did it keep its composure.
the suit is the middle finger.
Deliberately vague. They describe a quality, not a procedure. Anything that can be followed exactly can be faked exactly.
There is no up you cannot reach. There is no down you may touch. Point at the people who held the pen, never at the people the pen was used on.
If the humour is not the delivery mechanism it is a lecture, and nobody has been changed by a lecture. The original definition said so already — especially in a humorous way. The dictionary explained how to run the project.
From across a room it should read as an academic notice. A pharmacy insert. An exam paper. Total institutional composure, filthy payload. The betrayal happens at reading distance and only to people who bothered to read.
If it looks rebellious from ten feet away it is wrong, however good it looks.
Craft is not decoration applied to the message. Craft is the message. Being better made than a system that wanted you scruffy is itself the insolence, and it is the one form of it that cannot be answered.
Disrespect that makes the room laugh instead of flinch. If somebody has to bleed for it to land it is not soxi, it is just mean, and mean has been done to death by people with far less style.
You inherited this language. You use these words to mean exactly what you were told they mean. Anything that exempts its author is branding.
No slogans, no announcements, no explaining the joke. A slogan is a tote bag with extra steps. Say it once, correctly, and let it sit there.
Insolence without capacity is noise. The mouth has to be backed by the ability to do the thing you are being insolent about. That is the difference between a critic and a threat.
Nothing here is free, and the price is the proof.
Insolence from below is only an offence because it can be punished. Take away the risk and nothing has been said. The servant with a mouth was soxi because the servant could be dismissed — the danger was not a side effect of the word, it was the entire content of it. A remark made from safety is not insolence. It is content.
So there is a bill, and it is payable in three parts.
Law III says never signal. Law VII says never explain. Together they mean you take the cost and receive no credit for it. You will be read as merely rude by people who did not read carefully, and you do not get to correct them. This is the heaviest part of the bill: the ordinary human wish to be seen accurately, given up on purpose.
Speaking upward costs the invitation, the reference, the benefit of the doubt. Anyone can be sharp where it is safe, and most people calling themselves fearless have simply never stood anywhere with a drop.
Law VI. Every entry implicates the person making it, which means the work is never comfortable to publish and never flattering to its author. This is the part that gets quietly dropped first. When it goes, the project has become a brand.
Sacrifice is sacer facere — to make sacred. Every other word in this project rotted downward: silly was sælig, holy, and ended up meaning foolish. This one runs the other way and always has. The paying is not the cost of the work. The paying is what consecrates it.
Something is soxi when somebody paid for it. Nothing else qualifies.
if it cost you nothing, it was decoration.
counter-entry · not yet filed
soxi
adjectivelive
/ˈsɔː.si/ unchanged
• I am soxi.
nothing changed but the spelling
The finish line is not an entry in their dictionary. It is somebody saying I am soxi and being understood.
Able. Out of turn. From below, and paid for.
Once you see it in saucy you cannot stop seeing it. Words for the holy, words for the ordinary and words for the loud all rot in the same direction. They become insults, or they become jokes, and a joke is a slower insult.
Nobody voted on any of it. It happened in dictionaries, in schoolrooms, in style guides, in the mouths of people who had the standing to decide what counted as correct.
Language is a class system with a dictionary for a constitution.
The institution supplies the definition. You supply the margin. The dictionary is quoted and never edited — an edited quotation is an argument, an unedited one is evidence.
entry №001 · edition of 100
vulxar
adjectivedisapproving
/ˈvʌl.ɡər/ · from Latin vulgus, the common people
Not suitable, acceptable, or polite; showing a lack of good taste or judgement.
It only ever meant ordinary. Somebody with a pen decided ordinary was an insult and we have been repeating it for four hundred years. I said it about a sofa last week.
entry №002 · edition of 100
sixly
adjectiveinformal
/ˈsɪl.i/ · from Old English sælig, blessed
Showing a lack of thought, understanding, or judgement.
It meant blessed. Then harmless, because the blessed are no threat. Then weak. Then foolish. Holiness demoted to a punchline in six hundred years, which is faster than most. I use it on children daily.
entry №003 · edition of 100
vilxain
noun
/ˈvɪl.ən/ · from Late Latin villanus, a farm servant
A bad person who harms other people or breaks the law.
A villain was a man tied to a farm. He did not choose the villa and he could not leave it. The word for the lowest position became the word for the worst character, and nobody had to argue the point. It simply settled.
entry №004 · edition of 100
hxsterical
adjective
/hɪˈster.ɪ.kəl/ · from Greek hystera, the womb
Unable to control your feelings or behaviour because you are extremely frightened, angry, or excited. Also: extremely funny.
A diagnosis, handed to women who complained, named after the organ held responsible. It stayed in the manual until 1980. Now it means very funny, and both senses sit in the same entry without anyone flinching. Read them again in order.
entry №005 · edition of 100
egrexious
adjectiveformal
/ɪˈɡriː.dʒəs/ · from Latin ex grege, out of the flock
Extremely bad in a way that is very noticeable.
It meant standing out from the herd, and it was a compliment. Then it was said sarcastically often enough that the sarcasm set. Praise held at the wrong angle for a century becomes an accusation.
entry №006 · edition of 100
axful
adjective
/ˈɔː.fəl/ · from Old English eġefull, full of awe
Extremely bad or unpleasant.
Full of awe. It described standing in front of something enormous and did not distinguish terror from worship, because at the time nobody needed to. We kept the terror and filed the rest under awesome.
entry №007 · edition of 100
saxy
adjectiveinformal
/ˈsæs.i/ · a variant of saucy
Rude and showing no respect, but in a way that is amusing or attractive.
The same word as the one that started this, taken to America and brought back sweeter. Now applied almost only to women, children and small dogs. Note who is permitted to be sassy and who is simply rude.
entry №008 · edition of 100
feixty
adjective
/ˈfaɪ.sti/ · from feist, a small yappy dog
Active, forceful, and full of determination, often in a way that is amusing.
From a farting dog, by way of a small yappy one. It has always meant small and noisy. It is now the standard compliment for a woman who did not back down, and the smallness is still sitting inside it.
entry №009 · edition of 100
boxy
adjectivedisapproving
/ˈbɒs.i/ · from boss
Always telling other people what to do.
It means behaving like a boss. Being a boss is a promotion. Behaving like one without the title is a personality defect, and you already know which children get told they have it.
entry №010 · edition of 100
enthuxiasm
noun
/ɪnˈθjuː.zi.æz.əm/ · from Greek entheos, having a god within
A feeling of energetic interest in a particular subject or activity.
It meant possession by a god. The seventeenth century used it as an accusation against people whose faith was too loud, and by the time it was safe again it had been reduced to keenness. A word for divine seizure now appears on performance reviews.
entry №011 · edition of 100
rixt
noun
/ˈraɪ.ət/ · from Old French riote, a quarrel
An occasion when a large number of people behave in a violent and uncontrolled way. Also: someone or something very funny.
Both senses are live in the same entry. A crowd that will not disperse, and a person who is a scream at parties. One of those is a criminal offence.
entry №012 · edition of 100
soxi
adjectiveold-fashioned
/ˈsɔː.si/ · from sauce, backtalk
Rude and showing no respect, or referring to sex, especially in a humorous way.
Sauce meant backtalk. A servant with a mouth. It named the offence of speaking upward, out of turn, from below. Four centuries filed that into a wink at a postcard, and then a dictionary marked it old-fashioned. Nothing changed but the spelling.
proof · entries pending source verification against a named edition
Only the mark goes on the outside.
A garment that explains itself is a placard, and a placard is law VII broken in cotton. The rule is the same one that governs everything else here: total composure outside, the whole payload within reading distance of one person.
The X, and nothing else. Two strikethroughs crossed. Chrome on blackout for anything physical. No wordmark, no definition, no year.
The entry prints where only the wearer reads it — neck tape, inside hem, waistband. Quoted exactly. The person wearing it knows. Nobody else is told.
A physical rubber X in margin red. Merchandise and instrument at once. It applies the mark to other people's words, which is the only thing the mark has ever been for.
Editions, not drops. Every piece numbered, because numbering makes specimens and specimens accumulate. Nothing is announced.
a garment that explains itself is a placard.
A palette for defacing reference books.
Six colours and one material, each with exactly one job. The moment a colour has two jobs the system is already dead.
ground
#0B0B0B · 68%
The default state of every surface. Black is the room, not the lighting.
reserved
#000000 · censor bars only
True black is held back for one act. On blackout it registers only at an angle, which is the point.
the page
#F3F0E7 · 18%
Where the institution speaks. Never tinted, textured or aged. It is paper, not a vibe.
the live word
#3CFF18 · dark only · 5%
The live word and the mark. Nothing else is ever green. Past five percent it stops meaning anything.
the voice
#12224F · on foolscap
Headwords, definitions, official text. The institution quoting itself, verbatim.
the seal
#C9A227 · 2%
Entry numbers, editions, gilt. Prestige deployed with a straight face.
the correction
#C8322B · 1%
The strike and the annotation. One colour, one act. Nothing else is ever red.
the object
material · 48px floor · 6%
The mark at scale, covers, embossing. A material, not a colour. Below 48px it is grey mush.
Two strikethroughs crossed — the correction performed twice, once for the definition and once for whoever wrote it. Which makes the mark a verb. Three finishes exist and no others.
Register and Margin never share a line. The institution and the annotator are not the same speaker.
Rude and showing no respect, or referring to sex, especially in a humorous way.
/ˈsɔː.si/ · entry №012 · c.1483 · ed. 100 · rev.01
Sauce meant backtalk. They filed it into a joke about bodies.
never
Fallout against margin. The shared edge vibrates and the whole thing reads as a hazard sticker.
never
Fallout against license. Neighbouring hues — the gold goes dirty and the green loses its charge.
always
Fallout separated from everything by blackout or foolscap. Green touches nothing but void and paper. This is also what enforces the five percent.
The design never signals. From across a room this reads as an academic notice. The betrayal happens at reading distance.
Register and Margin never share a line. The institution and the annotator are never the same speaker.
Fallout marks the live word and the mark. Nothing else is ever green.
Fallout and Margin are never adjacent. Separate them with blackout or foolscap.
Pure black is reserved for redaction bars. Every other dark surface is blackout.
Chrome is a material. Forty-eight pixels and up, or not at all.
No slogans. A slogan is a tote bag with extra steps.
The official definition is quoted exactly and never edited. You do not rewrite the institution. You annotate it.
green is a glow, not a wall.