Any language, explain what it means if it’s not English.
For example (as a non-native speaker) I’ve always liked the English word ‘unprecedented’, mostly in the context of fiction. Especially if it paints some entity to be really mystical or wondrous or it’s own never before seen order of magnitude in any way.
I love the word helicopter, because unobviously, the root words aren’t heli and copter, but are “helico”, meaning spiral, and “pter”, meaning wing.
I love the word trabajaba (pronounced trah-buh-hah-buh). It means “worked” in Spanish.
English: Spaghettification (being ripped/stretched apart extremely violently)
Oh and almost forgot: Yeet is an actual word now, so that as well.
German: Zeitgeist (so well known you’ve probably heard it already [“spirit of the times”])
Programming languages: print(“lol, lmao even.”);
Epäjärjestelmällistyttämättömyydelläänsäkäänköhän.
It’s the longest word you can make in Finnish without using compounds, which can be infinite length.
It means, very loosely translated "I wonder if the outcome was a result of their lack of ability to cause others to be disorganized. "
I know, Finnish is an enviable language.
Am I understanding that Finnish has a way to combine words without being considered to be a compound? My very limited exposure to compound words (through German) was the very idea of mashing the words together made them compound.
Anesthetize
The ‘esth’ right into a t is just about the coolest combination of word sounds in any word in English.
Second favorite is cwm. :)
As someone with a lisp who tends to turn ‘s’ and ‘z’ sounds into a ‘th’ sound, i will respectfully disagree that it is a cool combination. it hurts me a little that i can’t always say words properly but i suppose i could always ask a doctor to aneththetithe me.
Paraprosdokian. A sentence with a twist in it. Eg. Some people are like slinkies: not really good for much but they bring a smile to your face when you see one tumble down a set of stairs.
Fuck
Subtle, rhythm, and Wednesday. The spelling is just absolutely wild.
It’s about as messy as old British coins and Roman measures.
The subtle debt rhymed in rhythm on Wednesday.
antidisestablishmentarianism. its a fun word to say.
i feel the same way about pneumonoultramicroscopicsyllacovolcanoconiosis. it’s fun to say!
it’s not considered a real word anymore (and from what i gather, never really was a real word, in the opinion of the english nerds who decide such things) but i learned how to say it, dammit! i can’t unlearn that!
i might have even learned how to spell it correctly. i didn’t check the spelling as i wrote it in this comment but i also don’t think it matters if i incorrectly spell a word that isn’t really a word. so… yeah…
anyways, it was possibly used as a complicated version of what was known as ‘black lung’ disease, which coal miners in the appalacians contracted from inhaling silica dusts, for anyone curious.
It should be “silico” instead of “syllaco”. It comes from “silicon”, like the dust you mentioned.
Steadfast. As a native English speaker it feels like a very strong, grounded word which also suits its meaning. Originally literally means fixed in place, it’s come to mean loyal and unswerving.
Stalwart Stolid Solid
Sunwise and widdershins.
autodefenestration is a fun one
defenestratafenestra isn’t a real word but i use it to tell people i stopped using Windows and switched to Linux.
Brobdingnagian
It’s a reference to the giants of Brobdingnag from Gulliver’s travels. It means that something is absurdly large. It is also a large word making it delightful in that way. It also rolls off the tongue musically.
Coming in a close second is petrichor or petrichorian.
Petrichor is the word for the smell of the earth right after a rain. Petrichorian obviously means that something smells similar, or can be used to reference petrichor. I love the word for multiple reasons. First that it just sounds wonderful. Second that there’s a word for describing this one specific smell that is a universal human experience to anyone not anosmic out of all other smells that are similarly universal.
Third that it approaches onomatopoeia on that it sounds like the way the smell smells. The earthy petri combined with the grounded ring of chor (pronounced like core, and references that the smell is a core thing of rain and earth) is the verbal sound of the way the smell tickles the nose and makes many people walk around sniffing like hounds on a walk through the woods after weeks in the city.
Petri chor. It’s like the tinging of raindrops off of a piece of granite or marble in the mountains while you shelter under a tree and revel in the scents of it all.
I mean, it’s no Brobdingnagian, but as words go petrichor is a bit magical. It invokes and evokes almost as much as tintinnabulation, but does so for a smell, which is so much harder to do. That, btw, is an excellent word: tintinnabulation. Of the bells, bells, bells, which may be the most enjoyable poem to read aloud, ever.
There’s some other words that have the ability to invoke phantoms of their related senses. Cadaverine and putrescine come to mind; both names of chemicals involved in the putrescent smells of decomposition of flesh. Knowing their meaning brings forth memories of their smells. Not quite as effective in that, because you do have to know what they mean for the incantation to work, but still quite wonderful words. Sulfurous is similarly scent summoning. Flinty works as well, but is less musical as it resonates in the oral cavity and echoes off the teeth.
Look, I can do this all day. There’s a word for people like me: logophile. There’s a fancy word for people that are into words. How awesome is that?!
Oh, that ?! Even has a word! The interrobang! Ain’t English awesome?!
And yes, at this point, the entire comment is sigogglin’ (or sigoggly, or sigoggledy depending on where in the Appalachians you are), which is a twisty and crooked word for something that is twisty and crooked.
Loquacious, no?
