WHY SAY OKAY OR OK

We constantly hear this two-letter phrase.

OK.

Okay.

Kelvin, how are you doing?

OK OK OK, women, OK

The word "OK" may be the most well-known on the planet.

OK!

OK.

Even with technology, it is crucial to how we connect.

Alexa, turn out the light in the living room.

OK.

Even if you are unaware of it, you probably utilize it every day.

But what exactly does OK mean?

And from where did it originate?

Hm.

OK.

Good, then.

Thank you.

The origins of OK can be found in a fad of deliberate misspelling of acronyms in the 1830s. Those "in the know" in Boston were pleased by the botched coded messages KC, or "knuff ced," KY, "know yuse," and OW, or "oll wright," which were used by young "intellectual" types.

Haha.

However, one acronym stood out from the rest because of a few fortunate events: OK, or "oll correct."

"All correct" was a typical statement used to affirm that everything was in order in the early 1800s. When OK was originally published on March 23, 1839, its short relative entered the mainstream.

As soon as other newspapers caught on to the joke, it quickly traveled across the nation, becoming widely known as OK and not only among a select group of Boston insiders.

Furthermore, OK's resurgence in popularity even inspired a stumbling US president from Kinderhook, New York, to use it as his campaign moniker for reelection in 1840.

Supporters of Van Buren established OK Clubs across the nation, and their message was fair. It was evident that Old Kinderhook was "oll correct."

The campaign received a lot of media attention and developed a bad reputation. In the end, his opponents used the acronym against him, claiming it stood for "Orful Konspiracy" or "Orful Katastrophe."

Hah.

Even a smart moniker ultimately failed to save Van Buren's presidency.

But OK won, so that's good.

That 1840 presidential campaign cemented OK's place in American slang.

And because of one invention—the telegraph—OK made the transition from slang to genuine, practical application while similar abbreviations went out of style.

The current flows to the sounder if we lower the bridge. The armature is drawn to the other end of the circuit where the current powers an electromagnet.

The armature taps out a message by clicking against a screw.

Just five years after OK, the telegraph made its first appearance.

It sent out brief messages using electric pulses and dot combinations and dashes that stand in for alphabetic letters.

The time had come for OK to shine.

The pair of letters was simple to type and highly unlikely to be mistaken for anything else.

It was immediately embraced as the norm for acknowledging a gearbox as received, particularly by railway workers on the expanding US system.

Even further, this 1865 telegraphic manual states that "no message is ever regarded as transmitted until the office receiving it gives O K."

It was now a serious matter.

The fact that the two letters are simple to transmit is one factor, but there is another important one. It's related to how OK seems, or more particularly, the appearance and sound of the letter K.

English words beginning with the letter K are extremely rare; it is roughly placed at number 22 in the alphabet.

This rarity sparked a "Kraze for K" around the turn of the century in print and advertising, where businesses substituted hard Cs with Ks to catch your attention.

This Kook-Rite Stove, for example, or Klearflax Linen Rugs were examples of words that may be modified, for instance, would make it more noticeable.

That is still a visual tactic. In contemporary company logos, such as those for Krispy Kreme and Kool-Aid, K is depicted.

The K is what makes it so distinctive.

The Bostonian roots of OK were mostly forgotten by the 1890s, and newspapers started to appear to argue over its past, frequently sustaining misconceptions that some people still hold nowadays.

The assertion that it derives from the Choctaw word "okeh," which means "so it is," is an example.

The word OK came from the Choctaw. The origins of OK were no longer clear, but that didn't matter because the word had already entered our lexicon.

We now employ it as the pinnacle of the "neutral affirmative."

I see.

Good, then.

Learn to love yourself completely.

OK. OK.

Get up here, now!

OK!

I am at a loss for words.

Say OK.

OK.

So, it's resolved!

The canonical history of OK was written by Allan Metcalf, who argues that the term "affirms without evaluating," or doesn't express any feelings, but just acknowledges and accepts information.

Simply put, if you "got home OK," you were uninjured.

If your "food was OK," it was acceptable.

And "OK" validates a shift in course.

We no longer even keep track of how frequently we use it; it has become more or less a reflex at this point. That's why OK was perhaps the first word pronounced by mankind when they landed on the moon.

That's not terrible for an 1830s dumb joke.

Okay, guys!