For the Love of Words
Every word is interesting, including uninteresting (if looked at in the right way, uninteresting). For the love of words, both big and small, here's the list thusfar:
#001 quizzaciously
A google search for the word, earlier this year would have brought up just one hit. The dictionary entry of the word, which means in a mocking manner. It is so obscure, most word processor dictionaries (including Wordpress') do not recognise it as a word. By itself nothing special, but come September 2015, and this video by Vsauce, quizzaciously got a second life and now google returns over 40,000 hits (including this post). "Quizzaciously got a second life, since it didn't really have a life earlier" he said quizzaciously[1].
Footnotes
1. Quizzaciously from Wikipedia.
#002 backpfeifengesicht
The perceptive may have realised that this is not an English word, and it isn’t. It is, in fact, a German word that we badly need to adopt into English. What it means is a face that’s badly in need of a fist (oooh, I can think of many people). Broken down, backpfeife means a punch (on the face) and gesicht means face, put together, the most awesomest word ever[1].
Footnotes
1. Word of the Week: Backpfeifengesicht from Germany.info.
#003 grawlix
You know what you are, you are a low-life *&#$@!&$#%, that’s what you are. Hey, what the $*#& just happened? I meant to say *&#$@!&$#% and all I got were some &)#@^# symbols. Enter the grawlix. This term was coined by cartoonist Mort Walker in his book The Lexicon of Comicana (1980) and is defined as string of typographical symbols used in comic strips to represent an obscenity. The Lexicon also contains some other interesting words that may feature later. But for now, this is the interesting #&^% for today[1].
Footnotes
1. Grawlix entry at grammar.about.com.
#004 iktsuarpok
Another example of a word that we badly need in English is iktsuarpok. Picture this situation, you are expecting someone at the door anytime soon (for instance, Scott Pilgrim awaiting the Amazon delivery). You sit there waiting and occasionally go outside to see is that person has arrived. That’s the exact definition of a feeling we all get sometime, packaged neatly into this little Inuit word – iktsuarpok[1].
Footnotes
1. I Never Knew There Was A Word For It (2010) by Adam Jacot de Boinod (p5).
#005 :-
Many may remember this interesting typographic construction, used to represent a restful pause. It’s not used that much anymore. However, the most interesting thing about this construction is its name: dog bollocks. It’s rather obvious why it got named so. It can also be drawn using and en-dash :– (a better endowed dog). However, the variant with the em-dash :— is not used because of penile envy[1][a].
Footnotes
1. Dog’s bollocks entry in Wikipedia.
#006 defenestrate and fenestrate
The fisticuffs between the two gentlemen eventually led to Sir Edminton being defenestrated from the tavern.
One remembers the days fondly when these words were commonplace. Fisticuffs were a common pastime in the Victorian Era, so much so that they had a word for being thrown out of a window, defenestration[1]. So dropping the de-, one would expect fenestration to mean being thrown into a window from the outside? Not really, fenestration is related to a window, it may be the design or construction, or in biology a window like aperture on an organism[2]. On a side note, self-defenestration refers to the act of jumping out of a window. Here’s a nice list of notable defenestrations.
Footnotes
1. Defenestration entry in Wikipedia.
2. Fenestration entry in Merriam-Webster.
#007 embiggen and cromulent
“A noble spirit embiggens the smallest man”
Edna: “Embiggens”? Hmm. I never heard that word before I moved to Springfield.
Hoover: I don’t know why. It’s a perfectly “cromulent” word.
Principle Skinner (after watching Homer’s audition for the role of town crier): He’s embiggened that role with his cromulent performance.
Since I missed out the day before, here’s an extra word today. These two instances were the birth of two new words. Taken from the episode Lisa the Iconoclast, the words embiggen and cromulent were born in the everyday banter of the residents of Springfield. Embiggen which means to make larger and cromulent meaning acceptable. Thanks to the writers of The Simpsons we now have two awesome words. The word embiggen is now commonly used to describe aspects of string theory (string theorists love The Simpsons, then again who doesn’t?)[1].
Footnotes
1. Embiggen and cromulent entry in Wikipedia.
#008 bunghole
The word Bunghole started, innocently enough, meaning a hole in a wooden cask for filling and stopping with a cork. The earliest use was recorded in the 1570s. However, this word was later extended, by way of meaning, as a slang for anus (I wonder how a filling hole that could be corked could imply an anus)[1]. In 1653, Gargantua had a section on the best kind of wiping material[2]:
Afterwards I wiped my bum, said Gargantua, with a kerchief, with a pillow, with a pantoufle, with a pouch, with a pannier, but that was a wicked and unpleasant torchecul; then with a hat. Of hats, note that some are shorn, and others shaggy, some velveted, others covered with taffeties, and others with satin. The best of all these is the shaggy hat, for it makes a very neat abstersion of the fecal matter.
Afterwards I wiped my tail with a hen, with a cock, with a pullet, with a calf’s skin, with a hare, with a pigeon, with a cormorant, with an attorney’s bag, with a montero, with a coif, with a falconer’s lure. But, to conclude, I say and maintain, that of all torcheculs, arsewisps, bumfodders, tail-napkins, bunghole cleansers, and wipe-breeches, there is none in the world comparable to the neck of a goose, that is well downed, if you hold her head betwixt your legs. And believe me therein upon mine honour, for you will thereby feel in your nockhole a most wonderful pleasure, both in regard of the softness of the said down and of the temporate heat of the goose, which is easily communicated to the bum-gut and the rest of the inwards, in so far as to come even to the regions of the heart and brains.
Funnily enough, years later, TV interllect Beavis (from Beavis and Butt-head) in his Cornholio persona used the catchphrase[3]:
I need crappuccino for my bunghole! Gimme that!
I am Cornholio! My bunghole will speak now! Ah, hey. Are you threatening me? I must have more crappuccino for my bunghole. Bungholio, bungholio.
I am Cornholio! I need TP for my bunghole! I want all your crappuccino!
Are you threatening me?! You do not want to face the wrath of my bunghole. My bunghole, it goes bungo. Tungo, tungo, tungo. Tungo! Rap-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa. And one for you. Parrrrr!
Would you like to see my portfoilo? I have a portfolio in my bunghole with my oleo.
I am the great Cornholio! You have awaken my bunghole! And now you must pay! The streets will flow with the blood of the nonbelievers! That would be cool.
Quite enlightening.
Footnotes
1. Bunghole entry in the Online Etymology Dictionary.
2. How Gargantua’s wonderful understanding became known to his father Grangousier, by the invention of a torchecul or wipebreech., Gargantua, Chapter XIII, by François Rabelais, translated by Thomas Urquhart (1653).
3. Buttniks, Beavis and Butt-head; Season 05, Episode 35.
#009 clitic
It’s difficult to not like this little word, and no it has nothing to do with the human anatomy. Clitic comes from the Greek κλιτικός, which means inflection. A clitic is a syntactic affix that has the characteristics of a word, but depends phonologically on another word or phrase[1]. Sounds obscure, right? However, clitics are used everyday by everyone speaking the English language. The problem is they just don’t know it. It’s already been used in this definition. Ever wonder what the little nub ‘ve in I’ve is, or the ‘m in I’m, how about the n’t in don’t? That’s right they are all clitics. They seem like words by themselves but they depend on other words to give them meaning. Clitics are also common in other languages, but for now that’s all[2].
Footnotes
1. Clitic entry in Wikipedia.
2. Clitics: A comprehensive bibliography 1892-1991 by Joel A. Nevis, Brian D. Joseph, Dieter Wanner, and Arnold M. Zwicky (1994).
#010 liblabble
A liblabble is a collective noun for a group of Ls. It was coined by the omniscient QI Elves. Here’s Stephen’s line from Season 12[1]:
Goooood evening, and welcome to QI, which tonight is a veritable Liblabble.
This is a newly minted and completely useless word, coined by my Elves.
It’s the collective noun for a group of Ls.
Every time I hear that I can’t help but think of this:
Image courtesy Sylfira
Footnotes
1. Liblabble entry in the British Comedy Guide.
#011 reduplication
A reduplication (seems redundant) is a process of repeating a part or whole word exactly or with slight change[1]. The repetition usually conveys some grammatical function. In English there exist the following reduplications:
☞rhyming reduplication: hokey-pokey, razzle-dazzle, and so on.
☞exact reduplication: bye-bye, night-night, and so on.
☞ablaut reduplication: bric-a-brac, ding-dong, and so on.
☞shm- reduplication: fancy-schmancy, and the likes.
☞comparative redupication: His voice got louder and louder indicating progressive increase.
☞contrastive focus reduplication: Should I actually give you an example example?
Now you know[2].
Footnotes
1. Reduplication entry in Wikipedia.
2. English gitaigo: Flip-Flop Words.
#012 hapax legomenon
Reading this hilarious tweet[1] reminded me of this awesome word that I heard about when I came across quizzaciously.
A hapax legomenon is a word that appears only once within a context[2]. This can be either in the written record of an entire language, in the works of an author, or in a single text. The last two are boring, but having a word with only a single instance in the written record of an entire language is just awesome. Honorificabilitudinitatibus is an example of a hapax legomenon that appears only once in all of Shakespeare’s works (in Love’s Labour’s Lost). It means the state of being able to achieve honours. Slæpwerigne is a word that appears only once in Old English, though it was recently used as the title of a song.
Footnotes
1. Andrew Hunter Murray on Twitter.
2. Hapax legomenon entry in Wikipedia.
#013 Dutch angle
Ever take a picture that skews the horizontal at an awkward angle? Or watch a movie where the protagonist is going crazy resulting in weirdly askew angles? That is the Dutch angle. It involves mounting the camera at an angle and is mostly used to connote disorientation and insanity. So what’s so interesting about that? Well the name, like most things we anglicize, the Dutch angle was not an invention of the Dutch or used extensively in the land associated with that name. It was actually first used in the 1920 German movie The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari[1]. At that time it was referred to by its correct name the Deutsche angle. It was a product of German Expressionism. And as usual the English speaking word couldn’t be bothered to learn the difference between Deutsch and Dutch[2]. Another interesting thing that is not quite named right is the Jerusalem artichoke, which is neither an artichoke, nor is it found in Jerusalem.
Footnotes
1. Dutch Tilt from the Media College.
2. Dutch angle entry in Wikipedia.
#014 occiput
Have you ever been hit on the back of your head and felt “F**K, THE BACK OF MY HEAD!!!” doesn’t have the same ring as “F**K, MY TOE!!!“. Well, to remedy that we have the word occiput. Occiput is an anatomical term for the back portion of the head or skull[1]. You can also use it commonly to curse when in pain, “F**K, MY OCCIPUT!!!” does have a better ring (and please the comma is a short pause, don’t invite anyone to penetrate the back of your head). Etymologically it comes from the Latin ob meaning behind and caput meaning head[2]. The more you know.
Footnotes
1. Occiput entry in The Free Dictionary.
2. Occipital entry in the Online Etymology Dictionary.
#015 antejentacular
Waking up at a godforsaken hour, much before the sun rises. You pour yourself a cup of coffee to stay up to work on that novel you’ve been writing. Enough to keep you up till breakfast. But, how do you describe the coffee you just had, it’s not breakfast so pre-breakfast? Enter, stage right, antejentacular. Jentacular may be a familiar word, meaning pertaining to breakfast (What? You didn’t know? My word!)[1]. Antejentacular refers to a something occurring before breakfast (not necessary a meal)[2]. It’s a rarely used (though interesting) word. However, there is this interesting limerick:
If you’re looking for some way to say
“Before the first meal of the day,”
Though it’s not the vernacular,
Antejentacular
Means what you want to convey.
Footnotes
1. Jentacular entry at Wiktionary.
2. Antentacular entry at Wiktionary.
#016
This post introduces six new words and hopefully makes up for the past six days. Also, it’s going to be a long one. The second word, indigo, might give it away, but in case you didn’t notice these are all different (albeit obscure) synonyms of the colours of the rainbow (well, whatever worked). Starting off:
Ianthine
Ianthine refers to anything dyed violet or having a violet colour[1]. The Douay-Rheims Bible mentions the word Ianthine (Janthine) in Exodus 25:5.
Indigo
Indigo, well let’s leave that alone it’s obscure enough[b]. The first recorded use of the word indigo in English was in 1289[2].
Smalt
Smalt is the common name for cobalt blue (also used to refer to cobolt blue glass), it’s the term used for a deep blue colour. Smalt is also the blue colour most commonly found in watercolouring sets[3].
Virescent
Virescent means greenish and comes from the Latin viere meaning to be green[4]. Virescence is a condition where parts of a plant turn green that are not normally supposed to be green[5][b].
Xanthic
Xanthic means yellowish[6] and comes from the greek Ξάνθος (xanthos) meaning yellow (also the ancient name of a city in current day Turkey[7]).
Jacinthe
Jacinthe as defined by the dictionary is a moderate orange[8].
Coquelicot
Coquelicot[c] is a shade of red characteristic of wild poppy. The first recorded use of the word was in 1795[9].
Footnotes
1. Ianthine entry in the Merriam-Webster Dictionary.
2. A Dictionary of Color (1930) by Aloys John Maerz and M. Rea Paul (p117).
3. What is Smalt? from Windsor and Newton Painting Matters #2.
4. Virescent entry in the Merriam-Webster Dictionary.
5. Virescence entry in Wikipedia.
6. Xanthic entry in the Merriam-Webster Dictionary.
7. Xanthos from Lycian Turkey – Discover the Beauty of Ancient Lycia.
8. Jacinthe entry in the Merriam-Webster Dictionary.
9. Coquelicot entry in Wikipedia.
#017 nadir
Nadir is an awesome word, it is one of few words that I know of in English that has been borrowed from Arabic. You might have a friend with that name (to which, I say “poor chap”). Nadir, simply put, is the opposite of zenith[1]. It is also the lowest point in one’s life or career[2]. It come from the arabic نظير (nazir) meaning opposite. Nadir (like other Arabic words) also found its way to astronomy, and is used to describe the point in the celestial sphere directly below the observer[3]. It is also used in oncology, to represent the lowest level of blood cell count in a patent undergoing chemotherapy[4].
Footnotes
1. Nadir entry in the Merriam-Webster Dictionary.
2. The lowest point in British journalism by Janice Turner, in the Times Online.
3. Nadir entry in Wikipedia.
4. Chemotherapy Principles: An Indepth Discussion from the American Cancer Association.
#018 name day
Yes, it’s my birthday, la la la, and all that. However, this time let’s head into the ancient. Origen Adamantius, an early Christian theologian, in 245 C.E.[a] wrote thus[1]:
None of the saints can be found who ever held a feast or a banquet upon his birthday, or rejoiced on the day when his son or daughter was born. But sinners rejoice and make merry on such days. For we find in the Old Testament that Pharaoh, king of Egypt, celebrated his birthday with a feast, and that Herod, in the New Testament did the same. But the saints not only neglect to mark the day of their birth with festivity, but also, filled with the Holy Spirit, they curse this day, after the example of Job and Jeremiah and David.
So Christians, my advice to you is to not celebrate your birthday, it angers god and defeats the purpose of being a true Christian—suffering. So does that mean that poor Christians the world over should not celebrate their birthdays, of course, unless they want to burn like the pagans and heathen and sinners who do. But surely, there should be something mild-mannered Christians can celebrate?
What’s in a name?
No, really, is your name Lukas, Zlatka, Säde, Viviana, Ronalds, Luke, Lui, or Julian? If it is then happy name day to you[2]. So a name day is a kind of sad Christian equivalent of a birthday, where a person celebrated the day of the saint who he (or she, but most likely he) shears their first name with[3]. This used to be a common practice in the Christian parts of Europe and might even be celebrated today. Oh! fuck you if you don’t have a St. Vanjeet[4].
Footnotes
1. The Surprising Origin of Birthdays by William F. Dankenbring.
3. Name Day entry in Wikipedia.
4. Catholic Saints Info (love the tagline: notes about your extended family in heaven).
#019 Englishable
Englishable, according to Webster’s 1913, is used to define a word that can be expressed in or translated to English[1][2]. The funny thing about this word is that it is an obsolete word, which mean that Englishable is not Englishable[3]. Worse still, Englishable is not accepted in any Scrabble dictionary[4][5].
Footnotes
1. Englishable entry in Webster’s Dictionary.
2. Englishable entry in the OED.
3. Words That Went Extinct from Grammarly.
4. Sorry, no results for “englishable” in the Collins English Dictionary.
5. Official Scrabble Dictionary at Hasbro.
#020 eggcorn
Why did the fish use mouthwash?
Baited breath.
What do you call on time ejaculation?
Spurt of the moment.
How do hospitals start legal documents?
For all intensive purposes…
What nut do you get from an illicit affair between a ear of maize and a chicken?
Eggcorn.
All puns aside, the funnies above are all thanks to our little friend the eggcorn. An eggcorn is the substitution of a word or phrase for something similar sounding[1]. Eggcorn is also an eggcorn of acorn. Though what differentiates an eggcorn from a pun is that a pun is used for comic effect and an eggcorn is an actual undetected mistake on the part of the speaker. Some eggcorns may even enjoy wide usage, such as damp squid instead of damp squib[2]. The term eggcorn was coined by linguist Geoffrey Pullum, in late 2003, in response to an article by Mark Liberman discussing the case of a woman who substituted eggcorn for acorn[3]. Though come to think of it eggcorn would probably be tasty.
Footnotes
1. This Is What ‘Eggcorns’ Are (and Why They’re Jar-Droppingly Good) by Katy Steinmetz, from TIME.
3. Eggcorn entry in Wikipedia.
#021 goostrumnoodle
Ah! The words of old, so poetic, so flowery. Imagine calling someone a goostrumnoodle in the middle of an argument chances are the person will be too confused to punch you. The word appears in an 1871 novel by William Bentinck Forfar[1] (not to be confused with Lord William Bentinck):
“I am tired of all this mystery,” said Alrina; — “I wish I knew the meaning of it all. That room upstairs puzzles me very much. I should like to peep into it one day, and see where all the noise comes from, when those ‘goostrumnoodles’ come here to know who
has ill-wished them, and wait in the best parlour while my father goes upstairs to prepare the room for their reception.”
If not obvious (which it isn’t), goostrumnoodle is an old word (from Cornish actually) that means an idiot or fool[2]. Adam Jacot de Boinod has a collection of such words including clumperton, fopdoodle, doddypool, and jobbernowl[3]. There, now you have five new words to describe your boss[a].
Footnotes
1. The Wizard of West Penwith, a Tale of the Land’s-End (1871) by William Bentinck Forfar (p13).
2. Goostrumnodle entry in Words and Phrases from the Past.
3. I Never Knew There Was A Word For It by Adam Jacot de Boinod (p550).
#022 dii-koyna
Everyone knows someone who, in a fit of anger, destroys something belonging to them. I should confess I have done that on numerous occasions. So it goes without saying that I have a problem—there’s no word in English to describe this state of mine. To the rescue comes Ndebele, a South African language, where it seems speakers are commonly know to lash out at their own possessions, so much so that they invented a word for it. Dii-koyna means to destroy one’s possessions in anger[1]. Being a dii-koynatic I can say it’s not very nice after your brain settles down back to its rational state. Don’t break stuff.
Footnotes
1. I Never Knew There Was A Word For It (2010) by Adam Jacot de Boinod (p xi).