I know the espionage news is serious, but I can’t help thinking about what a strange word we’ve added to our vocabulary.

“Wikileaks”.

It sounds funny every time I hear it. And when I hear a funny word, I immediately want to use it in a sentence. Or better, a headline. But you know how it is with headlines. For a truly historic one to emerge, conditions must be right.

For instance, if a 1990’s talk show host got an exclusive interview on Twitter with Julian Assange, it might be called:

Rikki Lake’s Wikileaks Tweets

If the interview was altered and delayed for seven days due to illness:

Sickly Week Tweaks Rikki Lake’s Wikileaks Tweets

If Arab royalty became annoyed by the sudden changes:

Sheiks Piqued As Sickly Week Tweaks Rikki Lake’s Wikilealks Tweets

But if Ms. Lake sent her technical staff to calm the disturbance:

Geeks Speak To Piqued Sheiks As Sickly Week Tweaks Rikki Lake’s Wikileaks Tweets.

And if those emissaries had been recklessly eating fudgesicles before the meeting:

Sticky Cheeked Geeks Speak To Piqued Sheiks As Sickly Week Tweaks Rikki Lake’s Wikileaks Tweets.

If tangential observers darkly predicted unsatisfactory results, thus annoying the pocket protector wearing ambassadors:

Oblique Critiques Freak Sticky Cheeked Geeks Who Speak To Piqued Sheiks As Sickly Week Tweaks Rikki Lake’s Wikileaks Tweets.

Although those unkind observations about the work of such resourceful techno-wizards might draw an attack by angry pecking birds of prey, who show no reluctance to cover their antagonists in rivers of their own blood:

Eagle Beaks Wreak Icky Streaks Over Oblique Critiques That Freak Sticky Cheeked Geeks Who Speak To Piqued Sheiks As Sickly Week Tweaks Rikki Lake’s Wikileaks Tweets.

But I digress.

Does the rain in Spain stay mainly on the plain?

On my list of things I wish I had done twenty years ago, getting a trademark on the word “awesome” ranks first as the most awesomely awesome thing I could have done, but somehow didn’t. I still hold out hope that there is at least one brilliant no-real-work-required idea that will magically funnel billions into the family bank account, but for that to happen, the legal mechanism to strike word-gold needs to remain in place. That’s why I’m thrilled at the news that Facebook has received preliminary approval from the U.S. Patent Office to trademark the word “Face”.

This should slow the momentum of shameless online mojo-stealers like Faceplace, Facesite, Faceweb, Faceworld, Facedepot, Faceforum, Facespot, Facepamphlet, Facemeet, Facechat, Facedate, Facebin, Facefriend, Facetalk, Facegab and Faceplant.

I don’t know if any of these online places actually exist, but it doesn’t matter. They’re all name ideas I had just after I read the article that told me it’s too late to successfully establish website names like this. So yes, this is a necessary move. Without big government intervention to require creativity, we would soon find ourselves trapped in a fanciful, faceful future when it comes to naming websites. In the virtual world, few letter combinations are more powerful and evocative than F-A-C-E. And people would not be shy to use it because we are, as a species, inclined to take the shortcut.

If only the Republican National Committee had shown the foresight to trademark “gate” as a suffix to describe any embarrassing, unlawful political activity. “Face” has the same discouraging potential.

But what are the long-term implications?

With online use of the word “face” primarily reserved for one commercial entity, a handy, everyday substitute word is needed to describe the forward side of your skull. Something already in use, perhaps?

I nominate “Mug”.

Mug is short and memorable, and it sounds down-to-Earth in an approachable, friendly way. Mug is a great equalizer. While it is possible to have a beautiful and even a gorgeous face, neither of those descriptors will sit comfortably alongside “mug”. Loveable, yes. Lovely, not so much. And an added bonus – for those with delicate features, “porcelain” works either way.

“Mug” already has some common face-related uses, as in “mug shot” and “mugging for the camera”. And “mug” could easily be dropped into existing song lyrics to replace the newly protected F-word. “I’ve Grown Accustomed to Her Mug”, for example, is a perfectly suitable fix. Although “Let’s Mug The Music and Dance” takes on clumsy new meanings, perhaps as an apt reference to Bristol Palin’s performance on Dancing With The Stars.

There are other difficult wrinkles to be worked out. Surgeons who make a living performing face lifts would have to come up with a good alternative to “Mug Lift”, which sounds less like a surgical procedure and more like a beer drinking competition.

If you could “own” one word in the English language, which one would you choose?