Vituperating Thesaurus Diving with Scurrilous Excoriations

My desktop houses a rather unassuming file called words.txt. The file - without the fluff on Microsoft Word documents or even WordPad - functions as my own personal dictionary and thesaurus. At fewer than 40 words it's a poor representation of the English language, but it is a great cross section of strange words that have entered my possession through others' misuse or my own curiosity. Unfortunately, It seems lots of people like to finger through thesauruses without double-checking to make sure the words work. I have a great disdain for these thesaurus divers, even if their salvaged treasures fill my dictionary.

Thesaurus diving involves making a piece of writing pretentious ("grandiloquent" if you really will) by replacing common words with longer, rarer or obscure words. There's no problem using a thesaurus to sound a bit more poetic; sometimes blue is just a bit too blue and you need some azure or navy. The problem arises when blue heedlessly becomes something like beryl (beryl is a mineral, which is clear in its pure form, but can take on a multitude of colors).

So I'd like to share a couple of my words and their provenance as part of my dictionary ...No, not scurrilous words (don't ask me why I have so many synonyms for "using abusive, insulting language").


alimentary [al-uh-men-tuh-ree] - adjective
1. concerned with food, nutrition or digestion.
2. providing sustenance or nourishment; nutritious.

This one is fun because it works as a pun for elementary. "Why did the mouse die of starvation, Holmes?" - "It's alimentary, my dear Watson!" (never mind that Conan Doyle never had Sherlock Holmes say "elementary, my dear Watson" in 40 years of stories).


esurient [ih-soor-ee-uhnt] - adjective (esurience - noun)
1. craving food in great quantities; extremely hungry.
2. (often followed by "for") ardently or excessively desirous; greedy.

Not all of my words deal with food, I promise. Anyway, this word fell into my posession from a Monty Python skit involving a cheese shop. The main character played by John Cleese is a bombastic wordsmith and apparent cheese afficionado, and he brings up this rare synonym for hunger almost immediately - along with the more British-sounding "peckish," which makes a nice double entendre since it means hungry and/or irritated. Speaking of double meanings...


excoriate [ik-skawr-ee-eyt] - verb
1. to strip off or remove the skin from; to abrade (scrape off) skin or hide.
2. to denounce or berate serverely; to flay verbally; to censure scathingly.

Who says you don't learn anything watching sports? This word came up during the olympics, when one of the announcers mentioned a hockey coach was excoriating the team for their poor defensive maneuvers. This word is a bit strange etymologically. The core of the word is corium (that's right, I used core just before corium - take that, clarity!), which is Latin for "skin" so the first meaning is apparent, but the figurative meaning requires a bit more imagination.

(Alright there's food again, but that apple snuck into this picture, I swear!)

Double (and triple and quadruple) meanings are the great benefit of a diverse vocabulary. I've enjoyed them ever since mortally wounded Mercutio's pun in Romeo and Juliet: "Ask for me tomorrow and you shall find me a grave man." Even if Shakespeare's puns were originally an indulgence granted to the humors of the lower classes visiting the theatre. In case we're getting too low-class, next up we've got one of them, whosawhatsits...that's right, $10 words.


pulchritude [puhl-kri-tood] - noun
1. physical beauty - especially of a woman; that quality of appearance which pleases the eye; comeliness; grace; loveliness.
2. attractive moral excellence; moral beauty.

This pops up more often as my favorite word: pulchritudinous (a fancy, long way of saying beautiiful). I hear you say, "I've never seen it before, how much more often could it pop up?" Well, because most spam filters target things like "hot" or "beautiful" or "sexy," pulchritudinous tends to be the generic thesaurus treasure that comes in subject lines like "pulchritudinous Russian virggins redy 4 u."

Beautiful comes from Middle English and Old French, but pulchritudinous derives from fancy, civilized Latin. So how about some more Latin-derived words that are less nice?


scurrilous [skur-uh-luhs] - adjective
1. grossly or obscenely abusive language; vituperative.
2. given to the use of vulgar or coarse language; foul-mouthed.
3. characterized by or using low buffoonery; coarsely jocular or derisive; given to undignified joking as only a buffoon can warrant.

Okay, I lied when I said they weren't scurrilous words. One of the words is literally scurrilous.

I stole this from dinosaur comics, which uses it quite often. Whether or not it's actually being used correctly is arguable (T-Rex hadn't actually said anything mean or vulgar or jocular to warrant the devil's response). This one has fun double meaning since you can clandestinely imply someone is a foul-mouthed buffoon with a single word.


I believe that puts the site 2 years ahead in our "Word of the Year" program. Plus more people will hopefully use pulchritudinous, so my spam inbox won't seem quite so exotic.

I forgot to make a Thesaurus Rex joke, didn't I?

English - Enemy of the State

Americans - beyond a small enclave of Texans - will not need to listen to George W. Bush speak after January 20th, 2009 (although I'm sure quite a few haven't been listening recently, anyway). His mastery of the English language has brought us gems like "rarely is the question asked 'is our children learning?'", along with a rendition of Sunday Bloody Sunday. To be honest, his gaffes are minor compared to the illustrious James Danforth Quayle, who served as George H. W. Bush's vice president (maybe that's where Bush Jr. picked up some of those speech habits...). Many of the comedic, misspoken quotes ascribed to Bush are, in fact, Quaylisms. I suppose these sorts of things are going to crop up every once and a while if half the populace is voting for a guy they could "have a beer with."

But let's not be too hasty in judging their eloquence and use of English. Although it is relatively easy to be understood in English, the language is difficult to master. So, I'd like to point out a few factoids and interesting usage nuances in the English language. First up:


Factoid
Contrary to its common usage in news broadcasting, a factoid is not a "little fact". The suffix -oid is not used to form diminutives. That is: adding -oid to the end of a word does not make it tiny or small. The suffix "-oid" means "resembling" (often "imperfectly resembling"). Proper diminutive suffixes would be -ette or -let, like cigarette or piglet (so, factette or factlet).

Compare factoid with cuboid (resembling, but not quite a cube) and humanoid (resembling, but not quite a human) and the problem becomes immediately apparent. A factoid resembles a fact, but is not quite a fact. The term was coined in the 1970s referring to a bit of misinformation that was repeated so often that it appeared to be factual. Apparently trivia is a much too trivial word for many news anchors.


Discreet and Discrete


Not a factoid: the robots in Futurama almost exclusively have square pupils (Hedonismbot and others have circular ones on occasion).

That's right, I jumped right into the homonyms. While less common than their/there/they're, to/too/two, and for/fore/four, discrete and discreet are exciting words that even Microsoft Word won't fix. Discrete means separate or distinct; discreet means prudent or unobtrusive (the more usual meaning). Just to confuse the Romans in the crowd: both words derive from the Latin descretus (separated/discerned). Discreet entered common speech and developed into 'prudent', while discrete stuck with the more intellectual groups that used Latin and retained something closer to its original meaning.


Ado About Adieu
Let us discreetly separate these two out into their discrete uses.

Adieu, like many English words, is stolen from French (technically a parent language of modern French - Occitan...but let's see you try to find a school that teaches it). Its original meaning - now buried under a husk of modernism and evolved connotations - was "(I/we commend you) to God". Convention in English was that when one party departed from another they would say "adieu" to those that remained, while those that remained would say "farewell" to the departing group ("fare thou well" if you want to get all Middle English on me). I don't think that convention lasted all that long, but it may be important to note that English was not the primary language of much of the the nobility in England until around at least the 1360s. Now "adieu" just functions as a fancy way of saying goodbye.

Adieu exchanges positions with ado quite frequently - particularly in "without further ado". Ado is a fancy northern Scandinavian contraction for at do or "to do". It has also developed more into a noun meaning "trouble" or "fuss". "Without further ado" announces that the speaker has said everything necessary and the ceremony/play/whatever may continue unhindered.

Without further stalling for time...


Going Farther (or Further) with Farther (and Further)
The most subjective of the group here, some people don't bother acknowledging a difference between "farther" and "further". Technically farther should only refer to physical or spatial distance ("That field is farther away than this one."), while further should refer to the extent or degree of something ("Further understanding will require a lot of work."). That said, the use of either is fine for most people...unless they are a grammar Nazi - in which case you'll probably want to avoid using affect and effect, too.


Just trying to effect understanding of English.