Are You A Word Nerd? Then Check Out Wordbirds.
July 17, 2009
Neologism is the ancient science of creatively combining words together to make a brand new word or phrase. I've seen this art perfected at work by programmers turning innocent words into verbal weapons spewed over monitors. (This is especially true once their rubber band guns have broken.) Now I've found Wordbirds, the ultimate neologism site. Liesl Schillinger, the word nerd behind Wordbirds, took a break from crafting our lexicon to chat about her inspirations and share some of her minted words, like "idoloathe" and "droidan slip."
photo:BrianScott
NERDABOUT
N 'nur-da-bowt Someone whose jokey, self-deprecating attitude about his hobby can't disguise the fact that for him the hobby is actually a dead-serious, magnificent obsession. Usage: Liz was a basset hound nerdabout: she made fun of her bassetmania, and pretended it was just a phase, but as she branched into selling basset hound paintings, plates, scarves and hood ornaments, her neighbors sensed that the passion went deeper than she let on.
Wordbirds is brilliant. Do you consider yourself a word nerd?
I'm very glad you like Wordbirds! I'm a word lover, and take delight in well-chosen words--whether it's a mellifluous string of them in a poem; a single, cunningly specific word in a prose sentence (the word "unexceptionable" gives me a kick); a needlessly tricky one that turns out to be the answer to a cryptic crossword clue; or a playful expression that captures some previously unnamed person, place, thing, or sensation. I first came upon books of neologisms in the 80s, when I was a kid, and never tired of them. I mean…of course, I read the poem "Jabberwocky," like everyone else, when I was very young, and liked the oddity of "brillig" and "slithy toves" well enough...but I preferred the more practical but still very silly words on HBO's "Sniglets," (like pupkus (n.)--The moist residue left on a window after a dog presses its nose to it); and in the book "The Meaning of Liff,” which gave frivolous meanings to hundreds of oddly named towns (e.g. BLITHBURY (n.)--A look someone gives you by which you become aware that they're much too drunk to have understood anything you've said to them in the last twenty minutes.) You can still find those books on Amazon. Do I consider myself a 'word nerd?' Oh, no, no, no, no. Umm. Yes. (And if you like WORDBIRDS, I consider you one…)
What's your daily inspiration and how did birds get involved? Do you take all the bird photos?
Some days, I wake with ten coinages on my mind, some days none. Basically, living a typical urban 21st century life, I find myself doing things that have no word for them--yet. For instance...when you try to turn on the TV with your cellphone by mistake, what do you call it? I call it a "DROIDIAN SLIP.” When I went out for lunch a few weeks ago, I was sipping a cappuccino as I walked, and I suddenly noticed that absolutely EVERYONE else on the sidewalk and street was also drinking something in transit. What do you call that trend? I dubbed it "SLURPWALKING". While entering that neologism onto my BlackBerry memo pad, so as not to forget it, I nearly got run over by a taxi in the crosswalk...I was walking CELL-MELL, that is--texting or talking on the cellphone while in traffic, at great personal risk. Until this spring, I had no outlet for coinages like these, but last March, my boyfriend made me watch a repeat episode of "The Family Guy" (it's one of his favorite shows), in which the show's star, Peter Griffin, becomes obsessed with the irritating ’60s song, "Bird's the Word," which goes "Haven't you heard about the bird? Everybody's heard, the bird is the word..."--over and over and over and over. Watching the episode against my will, benumbed, incredulous and wondering if it would ever end, I suddenly had a grudging epiphany: maybe the bird IS the word?! When the show at last ended, I went straight to my computer and created my Wordbirds TUMBLR. I posted the definitions I'd stored up, illustrating each one with a photo of a bird I found on the Web that somehow seemed to evoke the word I'd minted. Every day since then, I've added one or more Wordbird. It's just for fun.
You take requests for getting a word "minted." What are some of the weirder ones people have submitted?
Some of the weirder submissions are too racy to spell out. People tend to come up with X-rated ideas, but I try to keep the WORDBIRDS rated PG. After all, I've got to illustrate these words with BIRDS...and there's some things birds just don't feel comfortable doing on camera! Most commonly though, people send in terms that are way too specific and drab, that define some workaday reality of their jobs. I explain to them that a WORDBIRD isn't just a word that COULD exist, it's a word that SHOULD exist, because it adds color to our language, rather than making it grayer. Two of my favorite Wordbirds came from outside submissions: NAGIVATOR (the person in a car who constantly tells the driver how to drive); and "ROTTER" (an improvement on the word "crisper," it describes the plastic aerated drawer in the fridge where people stow vegetables, forget about them, then sponge them out when they rot, and go buy more.) Mostly, though, people send me concepts, and I do the naming. A great recent concept someone emailed in was: "When you tell a piece of juicy gossip to someone, then realize they were the one who told it to you." I invented the verb: "regurgiprate," for it, and accompanied it with a photo of two riotously colorful chatty birds passing a piece of mango between them. An older one that was terrific was “When you really admire someone but at the same time, envy and hate them.” I coined “idoloathe” for that one.
Two WORDBIRDS inspired by Joanna's cats who sit in the window and often make incredible rackets:
FELONG
V. ‘Fee-long The yearning, clutching noise cats make in their throats when they behold birds they cannot catch. Usage: Puff, Max and Boots stood rapt at the window for half an hour, felonging, their throats clicking and chirring with thwarted desire as they watched pigeons alight and depart unscathed.
STANK YOWL
N. stank yowl The halitotic warning screech of an alley cat who has nabbed a mouthful of meaty supper, and does not intend to share it with his friends. Usage: A loud stank yowl issued from the backyard as the alpha cat stood guard over the kibble the resident cat lady had doled out. As other cats approached, ears flattened, the stank yowls multiplied into a keening chorus.
Wordbirds is updated daily. Feel free to submit your ideas, Liesl just might mint them.
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