You can’t always judge by the letter, because a vowel doesn’t always make a vowel sound and a consonant doesn’t always make a consonant sound. For example, it’s “an” old joke but “a” one-liner; “an” unusual story but “a” universal truth; “an” honorable man but “a” horrible leader.

The one that stirs up the most trouble is the “history” group. In American English, the “h” is not silent, so it’s “a” history book, “a” historic occasion, “a” historical treasure, not “an.”

They may seem more difficult to say, but try to make the effort. It’s your patriotic duty: Remember those brave colonists who rebelled back in the 1770s to break free from the king’s English.

OK, that may be a historical inaccuracy.

As a verb, it retains the meaning “to arrange with reference to the east.” It also can be “to set in agreement with the points of a compass,” a skill useful in the sport of “orienteering.”

“Orient” also has acquired the more general meanings of “adjust or adapt to,” “acquaint with” and “correct.”

So why do we need to add a syllable to create “orientate,” a word that covers exactly the same ground? For the answer, we would have to travel back to the mid-19th century, when it first appeared, in England, where they still use it much more often than Americans do. And that trip would be most disorienting.

“Orientation” is obviously a useful noun, but “orientate” as a verb is one of the few words I really don’t care for.

The Register Star follows Associated Press style: “Media” is plural. Many dictionaries, usage guides and other stylebooks agree.

There was a time when journalists were referred to as “the press,” no matter what medium was used to disseminate their information. Nowadays, those who don’t use a printing press often prefer “media.” Related terms still seem to be OK, though: press agent, press secretary, the pressroom in the White House and press conference.

By the way, the AP prefers “news conference” for that last one, even though the news value of a “press conference” can be questionable. No matter what it’s called, all the media show up.

Webster’s supports this stance while explaining that “people” was formerly used “only to indicate an indefinite number of persons.” Such a distinction is now usually considered pedantic, although it still does the job in references to “missing persons reports” and the like.

Of course, “people” also can be singular, as a collective, and in that sense “peoples” is the plural.

“The people of Africa” refers to everyone on the continent.

“The peoples of Africa” refers to the various groups of people who share a language and similar customs.

What I haven’t seen, and I don’t see everything, is any comment on his first name, Jeremiah, which also was the name of a Hebrew prophet.

From Jeremiah’s lamentations in the Bible, his name can be applied to any “person pessimistic about the future,” and the noun “jeremiad” is “a long lamentation or complaint.”

But, hey, what’s in a name?

Yes, the “deci-” comes from the Latin for “ten,” and the word comes from the Roman approach to military discipline in which one in 10 soldiers were randomly chosen to be slain to teach the survivors a lesson.

Thankfully, that practice has disappeared, and so has the necessity of preserving the “one-tenth” aspect of “decimate.”

However, the word should not be used as a substitute for “destroy” (it isn’t that heavy) or in references to trivial injuries or setbacks (it isn’t that light).

There are still plenty of instances in which we treat “data” as plural — “the most recent data show,” for example.

However, its treatment as a collective noun is on the rise — “The data in this study is flawed.”

The use of “datum” is almost unheard of these days, except in scientific circles. The simplest solution is to substitute “information” for “data” when a singular sense is desired.

For example, in American English the preferred spellings are “theater,” not “theatre,” and “center,” not “centre.” The British spellings are OK in proper names — our own MetroCentre, for instance — because a name is what it is. Even so, some people might detect a whiff of pretension.

The same goes for pronouncing the first syllable of “either” with a long “i” sound instead of a long “e,” or “aunt” to rhyme with “taunt” rather than saying “ant.” These also are vestiges of British English.

Such affectations are most popular in New England, where the region still has “England” in its name, for crying out loud!