Laud is a really interesting word. It is a verb and a noun. It means to praise or extol. Laud also translates as the office of the first canonical hour of prayer, originally said at daybreak. Marvellous. And my trusty dictionary goes on to state that the verb originates from Latin, Laudare, also Laus Laudis meaning; praise. There are of course, offshoots of Laud. There is for example Laudable and Laudation. Laudanum happens to be a derivative of opium, and that could possibly say it all here and now but after that along comes a wonderful word, Laudatory.
But back to Laud. It is the praise and extol word that bugs me. To Laud is to bow down with a lack of self. We can write all about how wonderful a certain person is in our lives but never come to realise our own life, our valuable and personal existence. We can, in that terrible need and hunger for affirmation, forget the individual within us who cries out for attention. But swamped by rose-coloured glasses of the person we happen to devote so much time to our Lauding, our sights become limited and distorted. And yet, we are drawn to that. To the perceived beauty that the person Lauding demonstrates. The Lauder never speaks of anything negative or of him/herself. Nothing ever jars. The days are always sunny and without a cloud. I doubt that the person who Lauds is in a reality and is in a desperate state of denial. Funny how most people like to read things that are based on fantasy. How most people like to perceive the unreal world. How fiction has come into the internet with such power that what we read is not in fact real at all. It is like a strange science fiction movie without any substance, where the narrator dictates the world he lives in, where that world is without substance based only on a few sentences, but are lapped up like a cat bent over a bowl of milk desperate for every last drop. Writing is about so much more. It has to be.