Scattered
I dropped mustard seeds onto the black tiled kitchen floor the other day. They rushed in all directions, tick-ticking along the floor.
Sound is a scattering. From its source it spreads as its strength allows.
The people in the story didn’t want to be scattered. They had one language. One sound. They assumed greatness could be found in their oneness and their tower.
But God scatters them. He scatters their sound. The relationships between sounds and their meanings are scattered. And the people are scattered.
And they beget. In begetting they amplify themselves.
Babel, from being a contained sound unit is made into scattered multi(plying)-media.