No, of course it’s not meant to be deep and meaningful; it’s simply a succinct celebration of appealing words, often words that Rowan Atkinson’s rubber lips would make even more appealing.
I’m sorry but the word processor I’m working on doesn’t do lip movements.
And beside the water cooler last week, a friend and colleague asked, “Heard any good words lately?”
“No, there appears to be a paucity of them,” I replied. He appreciated the response.
Naturally enough, it set me on a hunt for more worthy words because I certainly don’t want to run out; I need a good store of back-ups.
“Turgid” is a contender. I’ll wager that all males remember being in a science lesson at age 13.
Muffled giggles were the standard responses of boys at that age when the teacher tried, straight-faced, to explain the process of things becoming turgid. And the word would have engendered some lively, teen-giggly discussion during the lunch hour.
“Eschew” is another goodie and I don’t believe there are many English phrases which could outdo “eschew obfuscation”. Using obfuscate in the verb form could also be fun.
I wonder how many of you know the word “ultracrepidarian”; that would certainly warrant being dropped into my word dialogues.
To save you from looking it up, I can tell you it means someone who offers opinions that extend beyond his or her own knowledge of the subject.
If you would prefer to use the adjective rather than the noun, it’s exactly the same word.
“Conundrum” should certainly be on my back-up list. I know my delivery will never match the Atkinson facial contortions but I feel the word can stand on its own two feet anyway.
“Crumpet”, if delivered effectively, is also worthy of my back-up list.
Wyn Drabble is a teacher of English, writer, public speaker and musician.
You’ve probably used the term “recently” or even “the day before yesterday” but I’ll wager you’ve never used “nudiustertian”.
I think it’s time to give it a crack though be prepared for the response, “Pardon?”
Also relating to time – specifically time of day – is “crepuscular”.
I first learned the word when I stopped to ask a nearby resident the name of the apricot rose that was cascading down his front fence.
It was called “crepuscule”, so-named because its colour suggests the time of day just before the sun goes down.
A pleasing synonym for “giggle” or “laugh” is “titter”. “A titter ran through the audience” has more oomph than “the audience giggled”.
And did you know that “bumbershoot” is another word for “umbrella”? Well, you do now. Choose carefully where you use it.
And it would surely be remiss of me to leave out mention of a real word which describes an activity runners do when they switch between sprinting and jogging.
“Fartlek”.
I’m not making it up.
If there was a bit of a disturbance – a scuffle, a to-do, a melee, a ruckus, a flare-up, a furore, some hurly-burly – and you wanted to describe it, there are two splendid h words you could use: “hubbub” and “hullabaloo” (imagine the Atkinson lips on those!).
Or you could try “williwaw” or “foofaraw”.
I hope you have not been too bamboozled or bumfuzzled by the myriad choices our mother tongue offers.
I trust you have been able to retain your sanguine disposition through it all, that you weren’t flummoxed by what some might see as gobbledygook.
