Also known as silicosis.

or black lung.

Makes you wonder why they picked forty eight letters to describe a disease

when really only nine letters were necessary.

It's not like all disease names tell you everything about them

or else 'flu' (aka influenza) would be named

IdontwanttogetoutofbedbecauseIhaveafeverchillsandareallybadheadacheandcough-iosis

Maybe it would sound more scientific than that,

but you get the picture.

Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis

Pneumono means 'lung'

Microscopic means 'very tiny' so if you put ultra in front of it

...ultra very tiny

Silica is a particle that is very harmful when inhaled

that can be found in volcanoes

and 'coniosis' because that's just how diseases end.

Put it together: A lung disease contracted from tiny particles of silica that can be found in volcanoes that damage your lungs.

Wonderful.

Because we really need more respiratory problems right now.

Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia (Alternately hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia)

Why is this my favorite word? Easy.

Because it is one of the longest words in the English language.

But it gets better.

It's the word for a fear of long words.

I love the irony behind this, and I get a concerning amount of amusement picturing someone with this ironic phobia googling the fear of long words and descending into a major panic attack.

bi·zarre/bəˈzär/

adjective: bizarre

very strange or unusual, especially so as to cause interest or amusement.

strikingly out of the ordinary such as:

a: odd, extravagant, or eccentric in style or mode.

b: involving sensational contrasts or incongruities

Bizarre isn't a word I use everyday, but I think that's one reason it's my favorite.

I like the way I have to recall it into my mind just a split second longer than other words. Kinda like using the good china on a special occassion.

I also like the power of interpretation it lends to the user and listener.

To one, bizarre could be intresting while another weird.

Bizarre is a word I like to say because of the z and I like to write because of the rre.

But the reason I love it the most is it's the perfect description of me.

As a teacher of high school English, I embraced every lesson as an opportunity to introduce interesting and unusual words. This surreptitious instruction started on day one when I introduced myself as a bibliophile and logophile.

From logophile it was just a hop, skip, and a jump to logorrhea. “It’s like diarrhea, but with words!” I eagerly explained, hoping that my graphic analogy would get their attention. Those who looked at me like I had lobsters crawling out of my ears would receive an invitation to check the dictionary at the front of the room. If they caught me on a good day, I’d let them use their phones; vocabulary.com would close the deal with their straight-forward explanation: If someone's always mouthing off and just can't shut up, they've got logorrhea, a pathological inability to stop talking.

Having won the battle, however, I still lost the war; unlike other five-star words like juggernaut and troglodyte, logorrhea did not make its way into their post-literate lexicon. But then, on September 29th, Rachel Maddow used the word on live tv. The MSNBC commentator was describing the first debate between President Donald Trump and Vice President Joe Biden. I can only hope at least one of my students heard her, recalled a certain crazy teacher, and nodded wisely.

To drain (a person, animal, or organ) of blood

Whispering lyrically of the dark corners

frightening places

Proclaiming bolding an ancient profession

still needed

Slithering quietly through the minds of killers

a forbidden urge

Just the sound of this word makes me smile, because to me, it is the happiest word on the planet.

Vellichor (pronounced Vell-ee-kor) is a beautiful word that many booklovers can relate to.

"n. The strange wistfulness of used bookstores, which are somehow infused with the passage of time- filled with thousands of old books you'll never have time to read, each of which is itself locked in its own era, bound and dated and papered over like an old room the author abandoned years ago, a hidden annex littered with thoughts left just as they were on the day they were captured."

The first time I found this word was in The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows...obviously the title of the dictionary describes itself well, but it is mainly the perfect place to find the words for emotions that you are unable to explain.

My best guess as to the word's origins...

So, in Greek, 'ichor' is the golden liquid that flowed in the gods' bodies instead of blood. "Vellum"basically is the definition for the perfect animal skin used to bind books and pages out of. Put them together...vellichor!

My second favorite word deserves to be an honorable mention here, as it has similar orgins and is just as beautiful:

Petrichor. (Pe-tre-kor)

It describes the pleasant earthy scent produced when rain falls on dry soil; the distinctive smell of rain. You wouldn't believe how many times I've used this word in conversations...even though it almost never rains where I live!

Petrichor also derives from two Greek words. "Petra" and/or "Petros" mean "rock" and "stone". And, as in the previous definition, "ichor" is the golden liquid that flowed in the gods' bodies instead of blood.

Rain in the soil. The blood of the gods hitting the rocks and stones.

I really think there is no better way to describe rain than as the blood of the gods...and I did a happy dance when I read that definition.

Hope you like my words. :)

My favorite word is pique. It’s definition is a sudden burst of anger especially to defend one’s pride. I find this funny because of my wild thought process which leads me from seeing pique to seeing pequeño which means small in Spanish. Which leads me to thinking how small people often have bursts of anger when they feel threatened by taller people and to defend their pride. My shorter friends get snippy every once in a while especially when I mention their height or something they can’t do because of it.

It’s Super cal i frag i list ic expi ali docious

Even though the sound of it

Is something quite atrocious

If you say it loud enough

You’ll always sound precocious

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious

Um-dittle-ittl-um-dittle-I

Um-dittle-ittl-um-dittle-I

Um-dittle-ittl-um-dittle-I

Um-dittle-ittl-um-dittle-I

Because I was afraid to speak

When I was just a lad

Me father gave me nose a tweak

And told me I was bad

But then one day I learned a word

That saved me aching nose

The biggest word you ever heard

And this is how it goes

Oh, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious

Even though the sound of it

Is something quite atrocious

If you say it loud enough

You’ll always sound precocious

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious

Um-dittle-ittl-um-dittle-I

Um-dittle-ittl-um-dittle-I…

I just madeja sing supercalifragiliticexpialidocious. lol that’s my favorite word because it’s loooooong and we can say it. lol is it a “word”? i don’t know but it’s a famous song. and i love singing it. lol sing away peeps. raise those vibes. singing this song makes you happy inside. that’s why it’s my favorite word to sing. I don’t even know if i can say it without singing it. but you can try.

lol have a fun day.

Athena

10/02/20

I know onomatopoeias are strictly words that when pronounced make the same sound as that they are describing, hence I place droopy into a new category of visual onomatopoeia; words that sound like what they are visually describing. Also, try to use voice inflection to use droopy as an in a way that does not immediately convey flaccidity, you can't.

There are so many beautiful, delightful, and amusing words in the English language, it’s hard for me to choose just one.

If pressured, however, I guess I’d pick the word ‘Eloquence’ which means the ability to use language and express your opinions well.

Not only do I love the sound of the word but I strive to obtain its definition.

Still, it didn’t feel right choosing only one, and so below is an excerpt from a longer piece. I tried to use as many of my favourite words as I could and also hope there are at least a few sentences that could be examples of eloquence.

(The piece was a bit long, so I split it up and I’m uploading part two separately. I’d love it if you checked it out. Any feedback is always welcome and valued)

Where the Coffee makes Itself

- Chapter One -

- Part One -

Georgie Gnu was tired.

In fact, he struggled to remember a time he had been more tired than he was at that particular moment. Not only had he not eaten for forty-eight hours, and not only had the previous night’s sleep been rudely cut short by a five-a.m. downpour, but, the ramshackle gadabout, with his life on his back, had walked for nearly three hundred miles that past week! Over dales and moors, crags and creeks, pikes and tarns; and all this in winkle-pickers, mind you! The blisters were agony. His knees, aquiver. The fatigue and hunger - dizzying.

But what choice did he have? A man needed to work in this world, did he not?

The irony was that whilst this wretched existence demanded he earn his living, it seemed very reluctant to allow him such a privilege.

Every town he’d passed through, from Wakefield to Woburn, had told him with a shake of their head that, No, sorry, there was no work there.

Perhaps this really is the end for us drivers, Georgie thought gloomily as he coddiwompled out of yet another town. He’d met the same disheartening answers there and a weariness had begun to tug on the spirits of the young wayfarer.

If I can just make it to London, he thought, then I’ll be right. There’s bound to be work in London!

Having just left Toddington, young Mr Gnu was less than a day’s walk from the capital, a reflection that gave him new strength. And so, with a refreshed spring in his step, the vagabond strode down the trail to continue his hunt.

On the edge of town, half-way to Wingfield, Georgie came across a peculiar looking building. A tiny old cottage with a thatched roof and wooden shutters over the windows stood wind beaten on the crest of Dunstable Hill.

As he neared the cottage, he saw a sign above the doorway that read ‘Ye Old Bookshop’. These days, one was lucky to find a book, let alone a bookshop, and so led by curiosity and bewilderment, Georgie entered the little store.