verba [words]

So I should be studying for my final final, but life is pretty good right now and there's no need to be stressed, so it's a good time to post. :)

Also, a great time to go through all these emails that have piled up:

Haaa...these things are important.

On occasion, I do not get the opportunity to expand my vocabulary via email and my inbox is graced with a "word of the day" that I already knew.  Like "lexicographer" or "bibliophile".  I only wonder if there are people who subscribe to the word of the day who did not yet know those words...

But every now and then I find a word of the day that I really like, and I snatch it up instantly.  "Nominalize" is a great one.  I want to use it in sentences.  Also "antipodes".  The only difficulty, of course, is actually using these words in sentences.  This has a couple causes:

1) It is unfortunately infrequent that there is a conversation in which it is appropriate to use many of these words.  Often these words are large, ridiculous, and/or little-known simply because they are so specific and specialized to a certain topic or group.

2) Even if a good word-using opportunity does come up, the use of the word typically warrants and immediate definition of the word.

But, being the lexophile that I am, I still try to do it as often as possible.

So aside from being a bit of an insufferable know-it-all or winning hard in Balderdash, why on earth is it important to have big words?  Most of these words can be explained in only a few, much more familiar words:

• Bibliotaph: a person who hoards (doesn't necessarily read) books
• Gormandize: to eat ravenously
• Oniomania: an uncontrollable desire to buy things
• Hortatory: urging or encouraging action
• Gambol: to dance, skip, or frolic
• Crepuscular: active during or relating to the time of twilight; dim or indistinct
• Pandiculation: the act of stretching oneself
• Gratulation: a feeling or expression of joy (makes "congratulations" make sense, no?)
• Saporific: producing flavor
• Empyreal: pertaining to the sky; celestial

Obviously, Dictionary.com needs to have a discussion with Google's spell-checkers, because according to their program, none of the above are words...

Perhaps the most important reason to have big words, even if they're cumbersome and smaller words are easier understood, is because having big words give us the ability to change how we think.  

One of the few things that I remember distinctly from psychology is the Sapir-Whorf Theory of Linguistic Determinism.  The theory is that our linguistic capabilities are based largely in the languages we speak.  The words that we learn and use give us a distinct frame of reference for how we interpret and think about the world. For example,  someone who grows up in a snowy climate tends to have many more words to describe different kinds of snow, whereas someone who has only heard of snow may only use one word to encompass it all.  The theory tends especially toward indigenous languages that were developed along a specific culture and territory.  It has several criticisms (as all psychological theories do) but seems to generally be upheld to varying degrees.

For example, as I learned Spanish, I began to learn ideas that I hadn't ever had in English.  Sometimes things have a translation, but it still doesn't carry quite the same intrinsic meaning.  Sometimes the syntax changes everything around and you start realizing that 'getting married' is actually 'marrying yourself to' someone else.

But you don't even have to be bilingual to experience this. I think that this theory applies even within one language.  For example, many people speak and behave differently among different groups: with friends, at home, in professional settings, and so on.  In fact, one of the first things that you do when you begin to study something or join a new group is learn the vocabulary distinct to that discipline. Having those new words will help you to think along the same lines with those around you, communicate yourself better, and plant new ideas that you never even considered before...simply because there were no words for it.

Let's do an experiment:

The word 'coriaceous' means 'of or like leather'.

So think about leather for a minute.

And how it is.

And what it feels like, or looks like, or smells like.

Except this word, 'coriaceous', is an adjective.  And using it to describe leather would just be redundant.

So now think of some nouns you could put 'coriaceous' with. 

Go wild with it!  Forget all the things that are typically regarded as coriaceous, and just find ways that it might fit with something new.

Something you've never even thought was "leather-like" before.

...Did you find any exciting ideas?

Having words for things allows us to expand how we think about something.  It can help us be more empathetic when we finally put a finger on that feeling, whether that word be completely made up or not. It gives us a new frame of reference for the world we experience and, most importantly, allows us to share those thoughts and that world with the people around us.

Bigger words can indeed be better.

“The most valuable of all talents is that of never using two words when one will do.”

-Thomas Jefferson.

denarium [penny]

I've found that in the English language and American culture, we have a lot of sayings that don't always make sense.  They're often derived from some strange anecdote of the past and people have been saying things like, "don't spill the beans", "this smells fishy", or "it came out of the blue",  ever since-- without really questioning why in the world that's an effective mode of communication.

Regardless of how accurately expressions like this may reflect the reality you'd like to share with those around you, we use idiomatic expressions and colloquialisms because there  remains some figurative truth to what's being said.  And we appreciate those things, because they help us see some sort of significance to the harsher realities that surround us.

Included today are two such expressions regarding something commonly found on the ground: pennies.

"A penny for your thoughts" was first published in 1522, in Sir Thomas More's book, "Four Last Things".  The phrase existed before then, but became more widespread when it was penned:

“As it often happeth that the very face sheweth the mind walking a pilgrimage, in such wise that, not without some note and reproach of such vagrant mind, other folk suddenly say to them, ‘A penny for your thought.’”

Mm.  Good old Literature.

Of course, I have never seen anyone actually exchange coinage for the thoughts of another (until we get into themes like patent law, I suppose) but the proposal still stands; the desire to know what's on someone's mind--and perhaps glean some wise insight--is worth, it would seem, a small investment.

"My two cents", on the other hand, is an expression used to denote one's opinion.  People often use it either timidly or caustically to depreciate the value of their input, or to avoid possible contention.  It has many possible origins, but nothing definitive as to why or how it entered colloquial speech.

Even though the original finances and meanings related to these phrases have become rather obsolete, we somehow still managed to agree that these phrases are acceptable methods of communication.  While the former tends to magnify or exaggerate the worth of a penny and the latter does the opposite, they still form an appreciable contribution to our language and idiomatic communications.  And together, they might teach us something:

If you offer "a penny for your thoughts" and someone gives you their two cents, you got a great return on that investment.  You just doubled your investment!  That's good business right there.

Microfinances aside, though, investing yourself in what others think or have to say is an incredibly valuable and worthwhile expenditure.  Of course things like friendship and teamwork require you to invest some sort of principal.  Your time, your efforts, even your emotions.  And listening to another and allowing them to return that to you often enlarges whatever thoughts or feelings you had previous to that.  You gain another perspective and a more thorough understanding of the world around you--even if that world around you is as localized as the workings of another mind.  These things are important.

The great thing about investing "a penny for your thoughts" is that the investment is so simple. It really requires nothing more than you caring enough to take notice.

intellegere

Today in my favorite class one of the things we talked about made me realize that there is a word in the English language that we could probably come to understand better. It's a weird word, when you think about it...

under•stand

Isn't that a strange word?  We use it all the time, but what does it mean? 

Is this understanding?  All words have some literal significance, so where in the world did we get such an obscure compound word to mean "to perceive the meaning or significance of something"?

Well, we turned to the trusty online etymology dictionary (a site that I frequent...it can be very enlightening).

The general conclusion was that the word literally means "to stand in the midst of" or "to be close to".  "Stand" still has the general connotation we use with it today, but the meaning of "under" seems to be rather complex.

related roots:

Old English under, Sanskrit antar, Latin inter: "between, among"

Greek entera: "intestines" 

other Old English compounds using "under":
underniman: to receive

undersecan: to investigate

underginnan: to begin

Phrase we use today that makes more sense now you know more about the word "under":

"Under these circumstances..." 

Greek epistamai: "I know how" or "I know"...literally, "I stand upon"

Other Germanic languages use compounds meaning "stand before", and most Indo-European languages use extension of compounds that mean "but together", "separate", or "take grasp" (eg: "comprehend")

Well, this is all neat and stuff (perhaps etymology isn't your thing...perhaps you'd rather study entomology) but...I just wrote a long blog post about the meaning of this one word everyone already knew the meaning of.  

I think it's fascinating because sometimes learning how a word came to be can give us different insights on what it means--not by changing the meaning but by augmenting the meaning we are already familiar with.

So if you want to understand something, you need to stand with it.  Put yourself among it.  Be close to it; allow it to envelop you.

You can't really understand someone, for instance, until you're in their shoes (or in their head) and you see what they're experiencing and you know what they're thinking and feeling, and you know why.

Likewise, others can't understand you unless you allow them to do that.

So... where do you stand?

symmetria

Meet my pet Peeve:

He likes to think he's pretty great.

Actually, I don't really have a "pet peeve".  You can ask me what my pet peeve is, and I won't give you an answer.  Not a whole lot of stuff bugs me beyond belief.  I guess I'm fairly tolerant of those stupid little things that people hate.

Probably because I do all of them.

But the reason why I drew a picture of a green monster-looking thing is because today in calculus class, we were discussing a surface that had symmetry.  And suddenly, every other word said in our discussion was this:

"symmetrical"

According to the online dictionaries, "symmetrical" is a valid word.  But I don't think that it should be.  Think about it.  "Symmetrical" is a word used to describe an object that has symmetry.  So we needed to turn the word "symmetry" into an adjective.

Which is why the word "symmetric" exists.  It's an adjective, derived from "symmetry".

So isn't "symmetrical" just redundant?  You took a word, and double-adjectived it? (Yes, i just nouned "adjective"...and then I nouned "noun"...but at least I didn't double-noun anything...)

I guess my major tiff with the word "symmetrical" is that "symmetric" sounds better (to me) and it's shorter and means the same thing...and it's only a first-degree adjective...

But apparently "symmetrical" is in the dictionary, so I can't really call people out and say, "'symmetrical' is not a word", which is too bad. Because it sounds dumb.

Is it valid to say, then, that my "pet peeve" is the word "symmetrical"?  It may have just become one, after all...

Perhaps I'm what some might call a language "elitist".  And I would have to correct them, and say language "aficionado" is more correct. 

dominus

So it's now the third day of the semester, and an interesting pattern developed over the past two days as I went through syllabus after syllabus.

They all included the word "master".

And it wasn't even in the context of "In order to pass the final, you will have to pray to your Master" or "I am the ENGR2210 Master, I will decide who will pass and who will fail."

No, it was always along the lines of mastering the subject material.

And really, that's nothing unusual to be said, but I guess after being beaten over the head with in first in Statics, then in Calculus and Electronics and Physics and Graphics (Yes yes...you're all jealous of my kick-butt schedule) it made me think about the phrase a little more...than anyone really should, I guess.

Master. Mastery. Mastering...
In terms of education and syllabi, it's really not that strange. It means that you have gained an understanding of the subject and you can use it and not look silly in front of the nerds.

But then I started thinking about it in different terms.  I like to do this with words, really...and sometimes it's enlightening, and sometimes it's confusing, and sometimes it really doesn't get anywhere at all.  I guess we can decide where this one ended up after I describe it to you.

Master, as in "Master and slave"
Initial reaction: "slavery is bad!"
Then: "waiiiiit a minute.  I could enslave physics?  It could do my bidding?  Ooooh."  NOW this syllabus is getting somewhere.

"Physics! Solve this paltry homework conundrum!"
"Yes, Master..."

Suddenly, the world is becoming mine, and I'm realizing just how important education is, if it allows you to enslave Physics.  Calculus and Electronics, too.  Pretty soon I could be the master of lots of things!

Master, as in "Master's Program"
Yes...but this isn't a master's program...this is a sophomore-level engineering class...
But I suppose getting a good grip on this stuff is not a bad idea either way.  To get accepted to a master's program. So far off, but so much to think about...

Master, as in "Master, the Tempest is Raging"
Initial reaction: "RAAAAAAGING."   This tempest, Lord. 'Tis furious.
Then: Well, I suppose He mastered physics, too.  And calculus and electronics and graphics and statics...
I mean, to take a raging tempest:

I have labelled some stuff here (e.g. propagating waves :D), but it's very minimal.
I have not yet mastered all the physics...

And make it pleasant. Peachy, even:

Net Force: 0  Net Torque: 0
Net Celestial Fruit: Peach.

You kindof have to be a master of Physics and Statics to do that.  And in order to Master those, you have to master Caculus.  And when there's lightning, knowing a thing or two about Electronics probably wouldn't hurt, either.
As far as graphics, though...I'm pretty sure the Big Guy has a supercomputer.  And one heck of a laboratory.  And a huge white board in the sky for math...

But we can talk about Heaven and science later.

Anyway.  This semester is a promising one, if any of those three 'Masterings' comes true...
Most likely that of a Masters' Program.
...but I really wouldn't be disappointed if my mastery of science resulted in weather control or enslaving physics...

vacua

Time for a confession:

I just had a conversation in which I uttered the word "cool" three times within fifteen seconds or so.

:(  I apologize for my sins against society...

But what's the big deal?  I repeated a word a little too much.  The problem is this:
cool is a vacuous word.
It's vacuous because it doesn't really mean that much.

For example:

Is this cool?

what about this?

literally cool, right?

cool!  awesome!  stuff!

What have we learned?  Nothing!  Sure, all of these pictures are at least mildly impressive, but otherwise they have little in common except that they could be dubbed "cool".

So what does "cool" mean?!

(There will be a contest in the comments for anyone who can give a satisfactory definition of the word "cool"...)

Cool is an awful word and it joins the ranks of other words including "awesome", "very", and "way".

Time for another experiment:
How much do these sentences (the control group) tell you:
"The room was decorated awesomely."
"The room was very decorated."
"The room was way decorated with stuff, and it was way awesome."

Those three sentences told you nothing about the room, aside from the fact that it had decorations that were at least mildly notable.  You have no idea why the room is decorated or what kind of decorations are adorning the room or how much time was put into decorating this room...

Now for some different sentences:
"The room was decorated sumptuously."
"The room was decorated haphazardly."
"The room was exceedingly decorated with bacon, and the smell was overwhelming."

Suddenly you are able to create a much more detailed mental image of the room, it's decorations, and you can even begin to assume some of the circumstances surrounding the decoration of this room.

This is why vacuous words aren't really that helpful, nor impressive, in communicating something well.  But they seem to be ingrained into our psyches or something, because we can't always help using them.  Even Mark Twain had problems with the word "very", and as the story goes, he overcame it by replacing it with another vacuous word, "D@#%", knowing that his editors would more easily remove the vacuous cursing.

It was a D@#% good idea.

Even so, sometimes the word "cool" works out in a song about semi-unrelated items, and it's enjoyable:

So yes, cool has its place, but if someone told me that they had just encountered microbial life on Mars, I doubt I would just say "cool".

compassione

And now, a word from our sponsors:

"Compassion"

'com-': with or together

'-passion': any compelling emotion

Compassion just became a lot more sympathetic than you used to think.   So much for being sorry for someone.  Now you're actually weeping with them, but also sharing their elation, their love, their dismay...anything they're passionate about, you're right there with them. 

And them with you.

dixit

Once again, it's time to visit grade school English class and fix all the lies that you learned as a child.

Here is your teacher:

"Don't say 'said'."  

I was even provided with a list of other, much more exciting and descriptive words to use instead of the dreaded "said".  And perhaps while you're still learning to write and you're constructing paragraphs like a McDonald's employee, this is valuable advice because it forces you to actually think about what you're writing and to branch out into the realm of new words other than your limited colloquial vocabulary.

But, as any English-speaker knows, rules are made to be broken.

The problem with avoiding the word "said" just because you were told to do so once many years ago is that "said" is actually a very nice word.  

Here, let's do an experiment:  say your name.

"your name".

Very nice.  Now, tell me how you just did that.  Did you proclaim it?  Did you shout? Did you whisper? Did you command?

If you want, you can do further experimentation and say your name under those conditions.  Scream it.  Ask it.  Declare it.

Do you feel silly?

Now just say it again.  You still might feel a little silly, sitting in front of the computer, repeating your name aloud over and over...but certainly just saying your name is much less ridiculous than anything else.

See, given the situation, "said" is the best word.

"Said" is a nice little tool to use because it doesn't distract from what is sometimes more important.  Half the battle of creating anything that speaks to our insides (emotions, intelligence, soul, whatever it is you have in there...) is creating something that will resonate there, and the other half is to not distract from that resonance.

In music, this means staying in tune.

In art, this means coloring inside the lines.  (unless you're going for something more abstract...)

In dance, this means keeping your movements strong and fluid.

And in writing, it means letting those words (that you've chosen so carefully to carry the power that they have) stand alone.  Don't try to augment them with other words...let the best words and phrases steal the show, and don't be afraid to have words like 'said' in the chorus, where they can't upstage the important stuff.

That being said, just don't be lazy and put "said" for everything.  Use "said" just as carefully as you use everything else.

leo

I would like to introduce you to a friend of mine:

You may recognize him from C. S. Lewis' most popular books.  But if you still don't recognize him, I'll introduce you:

His name is Lion.

Now, my very large following in Azerbaijan will know what is going on.  No doubt they have known this for quite some time, that our friend Mr. Lewis named his lion Lion.

As for the rest of you (read: basically anyone who reads my blog...I have yet to get readers from Azerbaijan), you may wonder what is going on, and why people in Azerbaijan of all places are suddenly in the know, and you are not.

Allow me to fill you in on something:

The Azerbaijani word for "lion" is "aslan".

It's also the same in the Turkish language.  There's a little Turkish Delight for you. :)

Anyway.  I'm sure we all know of several instances where authors use fancy words for the names of places or characters.  Why is this?  Because it's so much easier to take something fitting that's already in existence than it is to create it anew.  Lazy authors.  

It's also just plain cool.  Knowing that "Aslan" means "Lion" hasn't really changed anyone's perspective on the book or what they got out of it or who their favorite character is.  It's just plain neat.  It makes you feel fancy momentarily for knowing such a trivia fact, and then it makes you think that C. S. Lewis is that much cooler.

I'm certain that's what C. S. Lewis thought as he wrote his books.  "I'm going to name this lion "Lion" and then people will think I'm cool!"

...Because that's the biggest motivation in writing: looking cool.  After all, when you think of the coolest people you've heard of, they're all well-published authors, right?

Here's the key to looking cool while writing: brush up on your Azerbaijani.  Or really anything that's little-known.  It has to be little-known enough that you aren't committing a cliche.  Because then you've failed at author coolness.

It's a difficult balance, finding something that's known enough to be cool but unknown enough to be novel.

But definitely worth finding.

odisse

No doubt you have heard this conversation before, or even taken part in it:

"I hate BYU."

"Careful, now.  'Hate' is a strong word..."

And usually the reminder that you're using strong words quiets your original statement.

But why?  Why should we be afraid to use a "strong word"?

And if 'hate' is so strong, why does nobody caution you against declaring your love for Utah State?

(really...nobody should ever question your love for Utah State.  The above statement is moot.)

University affiliations aside, the question remains:  Are we only allowed to use strong words for positive declarations?

Are the words that we use for positive declarations even perceived to be that strong?

Am I using too many rhetorical questions?

       Undoubtedly.  There really is an obscene amount going on here...

I'm frustrated by the loss of strength in words such as 'love', 'friends' and 'bacon'.  Most people have already been exposed to the weakness of the word 'love' (and if you haven't, you can read this post to enlighten you further).  Part of its weakness comes from the fact that there are so many different variations of love that its meaning gets diffused across all those meanings.  "I love you as a friend."  "I love you as a brother."  "I love you more than I love bacon."  "I level-three love you."  So you have to supplement your declaration of love with an explanation as to what you mean so there aren't any misconceptions that lead to awkward dates, incestuous thoughts, or accidentally leading people on.

I've spent long hours explaining love.  (often through a letter...I find those much easier to manage)  It would have been so much more economical to just say, "I love you."

If the words "I love you" were beautiful enough to suffice, I'd have done so.  But I found it necessary to dissect it and bare the entrails.

As for 'friend'.  There are facebook friends, old friends, study friends, soccer friends, childhood friends, best friends, former best friends, roommates, people you met five minutes ago...

And with so many meanings, the word 'friend' has fallen to the same disease as the word 'love'.  I'm somewhat disgruntled to find that my favorite people and truest friends are put under the same inadequate label as people whom I met once at a party three months ago and have texted thrice since.

But words like 'hate' and 'enemy'.  You need no explanation like "I hate you as a villain."  "I hate you more than I hate celery."  "You just leveled up in my hatred for you."  You can tell someone "I hate it when all the Boston Baked Beans are gone", and they immediately understand the level of pain and spite you're experiencing.  

And yes, there are different intensities of hatred, but 'hate' has still maintained its status as a "strong word".  Is it just not as diluted as 'love' is?

Unfortunately I don't think I have much power here to change everybody's usage of words like 'hate' and 'love'...I suppose I'm mostly just complaining about the world and wondering why it doesn't operate on my terms.  Rude.

But in all seriousness, just be straightforward with your words.  And please only love as much as you hate.

iurare

Today, I received an interesting text message from a friend, requesting a list of several uncommon adjectives that were not more than two syllables.

Slightly excited, I returned the next 140 characters with the words:

quaint, portly, ruddy, pious, awry, verdant, virile, pudgy, bovine, fetal, queer, feral, hirsute, gaudy, sly, and crispy

K, crispy isn't that uncommon in the everyday vernacular, but it's a very good word nonetheless.

After sending such a heartfelt list, I was informed that my friend was in search of alternatives to swears in a book he's working on.  This amused me slightly, but also alarmed me, because I don't want "crispy" to be used as an expletive anytime soon.  I quickly advised him to just use "asinine" a lot because it conveys the same harshness of an actual swear, but it's such better word choice.  And it doesn't ruin words like "verdant" and "fetal".

But it brings up what is for some (especially those in Utah) a moral dilemma:  Should I write swear words in books?

hahahahahha....hahahhaahhaha

Sorry.  Immature moment there, as I realized that the way that question is posed makes it sound like you're running around the local library, ripping books of the shelves and writing "butthead" across the pages or something...and now the thought of it is making me giggle like an idiot, here in the middle of the library on campus.  I really hope other people are looking at me weirdly.

I digress.

Many writers who normally don't swear when they themselves are speaking object to it because they hate reading a great book and then coming upon an F-bomb that really didn't add to the quality of the writing.  It has destroyed many a book.

Others argue that it shouldn't be so objectionable because it adds realism to the story and characters.  After all, "$^%&^" sometimes carries a lot more than "He swore loudly".

Personally, I generally avoid swearing.  But there are some words that, although they are swears, are just so succinct, and no other word will really do.  The F-word is obviously not one of these, because it is used so widely, and as every part of speech.  Including a preposition, by some of the more talented swearers...

No, I'm talking about words with definite, consistent meanings.  And words that don't have a direct counterpart, like "crap" or "donkey". 

So really, that narrows down my favorite swear quite a lot.

Even so, I tend to go with a weaker word, depending on my audience.

Although it has been psychologically proven that, for someone who doesn't swear often, letting a cuss word out or two can actually reduce the amount of pain sensed.  It's apparently therapeutic in small amounts.

This hasn't really reached any sort of conclusion, but does every post have to reach a conclusion?  Maybe its open-endedness will invite commentary from any readers who care to participate.  Haha.