We ask, "What time should we be at the party?"
"Oh, 8:30ish is fine."
That doesn't mean 8:30, get it? You're left hanging. The "ish", three simple letters, completely erases your obligation to show up at the suggested time – 8:30. It throws all your plans into a jumbled mess of maybeish. Maybe it's 8:20, could be 9:00.
You would think "ish" could at least give you an idea of the exact time you should arrive. It doesn't.
"Hey "ish", what time should I really arrive? Is 9:10 okay?"
"Beats me", responds "ish". "My job is to let you know that the time the person suggested actually isn't the time you should come. I wasn't even invited, so beat it."
We could extend "ish".
"What should I bring to the party?"
"Wineish".
Does that mean my grandfather's wine, sitting in the basement since WWII?
"Ish" is so powerful. If the word ends in "ish", it means almost, but not quite.
But what about "accomplish"?
My dad always said, "Why don't you go out and accomplish something great, son?"
Hmmm. How do I do that? How do I almost, sort of, approximately, but not quite, do something great? How do I accomplish? Does he want me to become a famous lawyer or not? Maybe I should drop out after first year, and almost become a lawyer. Or maybe I should just be a really bad lawyer. How about a convict, who uses lawyers, but isn't one himself. I'm not sure which.
I wish I understood, but there's that "ish" again. Wishes are wishy washy. Wishes are kinda wanting something, but not really trying hard to get it.
"I wish I was a lawyer, but I'm going back to bed."
So that's why I didn't do anything great, dad.
Blame it on bad English.
