Thursday, July 21, 2011

Wordsmithery! Helping geeks get laid since...



Me demonstrating the 'What the fuck? Where is she from?' expression

People strain to hear my voice.  Not because I am quiet—Lordy no!—and not, largely, because they are deaf or constipated; but, when out and about, ordering a cup of tea and cucumber sandwiches (white, no crusts), I see brows crumple like deflated accordions.  The fold of frown makes the eyes smaller, shrewder, but more sparkly, powered by the cogs behind them spinning wildly, frantic to discern: is she English? Irish?  Maybe  Australian?  Those are the top three—although I have also been South African and, oddly, German.  Ja ja. 

I find this Pygmalion pigeon-holing quite fun.  It makes the world a smaller place because I know that, on the heels of explaining from whence I hail, they will know someone who lived there or perhaps visited.  (Maybe a hundred years ago.)

Sometimes I like to fuck with people and tell them I am Welsh.  (This is only half true.  Although I can hold a tune and I do like rugby, which surely makes me more three-quarters.)    Welsh?  This often draws blank stares, but since the fame of Sir Anthony Hopkins (now American) and Catherine Zeta Spartacus Douglas Jones (occasional American, with conveniently waivering Welsh accent), the Taffs are better known.

I cannot claim to have the Welshy Valley drawl—the rolling ‘r’ and the phlegmy double ‘l’—unless surrounded by the contagious sound and/or drunk.  In real life, my...'dulcets' couldn’t really get more Hermione Granger Home Counties. 

However, what seems to intrigue more than the way I pronunciate, are the words I choose to annunciate: a self-indulgent compendium of polysyllabic words woven together intricately, splaying in many different directions as if I were a verbacious spider—with mild ADD—casting out my web of words.    I do like words.  I love the raised eyebrows a string of Britishisms elicits.  I’m a ham.  I know.   I shamelessly drop my 'vitamins'--emphasis on the 'vit'--with an unapologetic cheeky smile.

How we express ourselves is important on an evolutionary level too.  According to Baba Brinkman’s The Rap Guide to Evolution, currently playing off-Broadway at the Soho Playhouse (you should go, it is phenomenal), whilst word choice does not prevent us from being mauled to death by an angry predator, the more slick-tongued of us can use linguistic skill to charm a mate into consenting.  Ergo, language effects sexual selection!  I know!  Think about that the next time you lamely type ‘lol.’

So I started thinking of some of my favourite words.  Not every day words like 'lovely' or 'bloody' or 'arse'--the Close Personals will tell you I use them more often than Brittney says 'me,' but words that I savour saying; words I feel a little audacious thrill as their vibrations blow through my lips; words that reverberate through my inner ear, titillating the spiral-shaped cochlea with every ripple of sound that crosses the cilia-haired membrane. 

Some of my favourite words are delightful, not by sensation, but by reaction or association.  So this is the abridged, and by no means complete, list of words and phrases that I knowingly trill the living Brit out of:

Numpty

Bastardly

Plonker

Piffle

Chin-wag

Dawdle

Drip (“Don’t be such a drip!”)

Gargantuan

Meander

Aluminium

Milksop

Sort the wheat from the chaff

Discombobulated

See you anon

Behemoth

Viscous

The cut of his jib

Cheek to jowl

Queue



What would Freud say?   Well, don’t judge me on the words’ meaning; say them out loud and enjoy the sounds.  Aren’t they fun to say?

 Doesn’t 'gargantuan' stretch your lips as if you have a runny nose and no tissue?  Doesn’t the ‘p’ of ‘numpty’ pop nicely?  Don’t you love the sibilant ‘s’ of ‘viscous,’ (I also love lascivious, mischievous and luscious, so maybe I have a thing for the ‘s’s.)  I do most enjoy saying them with a lisp.  But this can often get messy, so if trying this out whilst on a date—why wouldn’t you dazzle your dinner partner with your speech impediment showcase?—be warned: it can get messy.  You might want to check your teeth for stray lettuce or other debris before you unceremonious spray it in your date's face. *dating tips from Eleanor*  OOH, there’s a blog to behold!


So there you go!  Do Brits hold sole rights to this random collection?  Not a jot!  This is no private collection!  Get the tip of your tongue, your teeth and your lips around these suckers and unleash them loudly the next time you are in Price Chopper.  I guarantee you some furrowed brows.  (NB: this may be because they are concerned as to your mental health, but just ride it out.)

 In fact, let’s do this shit!  When you next shop on a Saturday morning and slalom your uncooperative trolley through the crowd, running the wheels into as many backs of heels as possible, mowing down indecisive geriatrics in the soup aisle, or crying toddlers who have just been told 'no' and are so red-faced and snot-slicked that they don’t see you coming, do try the following:

“Lordy, Moses!  Hells Bells!  Is that the queue for the sliced luncheon meats?”

So are we on?  Will there be an upsurge in plummy-toned people confusing the little cotton socks off the Deli Counter man?  Oh goody! 

Here’s a little battle of words, from the indomitable Canadian rapper Baba Brinkman and true blue Brit Professor Elemental wrapping their native accents around the intricacies of the mother tongue.  Guess which camp I'm in?  Ah, it's elementary, dear Blogger. 

9 comments:

  1. Brilliant! I mean BLODDY brilliant! Am savoring this blogette piece with my morning coffee. Makes me proud that you count me among your dearest friends. But more importantly, it scares the sh*t out of me because, clearly, no American is safe from your razor-sharp wit and that passionate pen (likely bejeweled and with its own little pair of stilettos).

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  2. The cut of his jib - Please, please tell me this is the subtitle of Historical Romance Novel No. 1 by Eleanor-Gwyn Jones. I will pre-order now for Christmas giving 2014.

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  3. I like "meander" it's a very pretty word, both in sound and meaning. It would make for a nice name.

    btw As a fellow west country native, I think you should consider adding the Wessexian term "grockels" (or "grockles") to your list up there.

    John Anthony West explains it for his people: http://youtu.be/K0Dr_VNt64I

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  4. Interesting...well, don't think it's what you say quite as much as how you say it. The awkwardly shy 115lbs freshman is not going to get the head cheerleader to go caravaning with him on holiday. No, she is going to a kegger with the quarterback of the football (American football not that crap they play in the UK) team even if he is a chaff!

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  5. Yes, I realise (with a 's' not a 'zed') that I was far too brief with the list. 'Grockels' is a lovely word Damo. You can get some nose twitching in when you say it too, which is never a bad thing.
    Meander would be a delightful girls name. I will suggest it to Gwyneth.
    On FB, Lucy reminded me that I had missed 'cad and a bounder'--a perennial favourite of mine. I also feel all handlebar-moustachioed and frilly-shirted when I use the term 'Blaggard.' Oh words! They make my brain fizz!

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  6. @Jerry I think she would absolutely go with the 115lb freshman. So, he's a geek, but don't brains outsmart brawn? Maybe he whips out his 6 string guitar and strums a song that he had penned just for her; maybe it's called 'Eleanor' or 'Alison' or 'Sweet Caroline' and by using WORDS and rhyme, maybe Geeky opens the Cheerleaders eyes. And maybe, probably, definitely--if she is the girl I think she is--she sees beyond the media-constructed idea of 'highschool attractiveness' and she sees wonder in his geeky enthusiasm.
    From an human evolutionary stand point, she is going to want a mate who will pass on the best genes, look after her, provide for her.
    I have dated 'jocks' and I have dated 'geeks,' the latter have always tried harder to look after me better and they have engaged in stimulating conversation using... oh yes, WORDS. Girls want to feel important. We want to be talked and listened too. Jock might be fun for a frolic, but unless he can hold a conversation, he certainly won't stimulate me. ;)

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  7. Love the word list, Eleanor! I haven't been to your very cute blog before...I've gotta go poke around. :-)

    BTW, you're going to be mentioned on More Cowbell tomorrow!

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  8. @Eleanorgj Seriously! You'd f*@k this guy? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TvR6d08L3nc

    Well, you are not the average girl, but then again you have a point. I have more of a keg than a six pack, and I do pretty well with the NY model types. I'm just playing a little Devil's Advocate.

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  9. When I visited England this past spring, you wouldn't have thought I knew the English language at all. It's amazing how my southern accent seemed to throw people off. I finally decided just to keep my mouth shut when on the "underground" and listen to the various accents around me. Loved 'em!

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