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Previous Articles Exposing Hollywood's anti-German agenda I'm not ashamed to be religious or a liberal 'Beat Me with a Stick' Elmo and other great toys Making a difference: why I do what I do Telemarketing ban has ended a great pastime I don't rule the world, and that's fine with me Making the journey from prejudice to understanding There's no comparing genocide and killing geese All that's left is an empty feeling An unrequited love for some really neat words Foster dads offer hands and hearts ... for the time being. Thanksgiving dinner and other forms of ritual madness. Zen and the art of not getting run over by a Mack truck A lifetime of regrets as another year goes down the tubes Reform Party Convention ends in shoot-out Virtual immortality isn't all it's cracked up to be Insider's look at the Republican National Convention turns up many surprises Car Repair for Dummies, Part One: This is a Car Sadness marks the passing of a beloved mattress At last, something worse than 'Jane Eyre' Every town has a story. Tombstone has a fixation. Forget the Trekkies, the real nutcases are on the Luce Chalk one up for the faceless restaurant customers Feeling sick? Maybe it's time to get a shave. Guest Writer: Toto, I don't think we're in Mayberry anymore Guest Writer: The need for speed Does this mean we won't get free popcorn anymore? Out of the way, Martha Stewart -- I'm in the kitchen now How I'm surviving my brush with 'Jane Eyre' First blizzard of the year evokes frivolous memories, no deep thoughts Isn't it time to jump on the bandwagon with the Real Thing? Forward this column and you can turn e-mail into $300! Trips to the moon, disaster figure in mildew prognostications True confessions (more or less) of a closet survivalist Who understands what dreams may come? Hey, everyone, look -- it's an elephant! Wouldn't 'Senator Learn' have a nice ring? To my little girl: while you're sleeping . . . Special Report: Entering the Baby Zone Battling the suburban white whale Wanted: Politician to tackle key issues Something else to worry about this fall Wanted: Dumber Mice and Better Mouse Traps One More Stop on the Road to Adulthood Follow the fashion leads of the journalist from Krypton This is why naming children by committee never caught on Psoriasis may be ugly, but at least it doesn't leave scars Another casualty of the ancient family curse Quest for baby names too big to handle How the seniors taught me to get down And don't forget your scarf when you go inside Guest Writer: No room for Paradise as vandals force Dew Drop Inn to close The samba of the mad Vulcan Maybe I could be directed by Spielberg The aliens in Rhode Island don't want you to read this Voice of nostalgia is a call to destruction My wife is having the baby, but I look pregnant The end of the world as we know it Run for the hills - Y2K’s a’comin’ fast What's in a name? Shakespeare had no idea Don't waste your energy on the 'gas out' Career choice leaves a lasting mark One Easter leftover, hold the ham please

An unrequited love for some really neat words By David Learn I have a confession to make: I love words. I don't know if I love words because I'm a professional writer, or if I'm a professional writer because I love words, but I love them all the same. Mind, I'm not talking about words such as "concupiscence" or "erudition." Those words are fine and I'll use them from time to time — well, except for concupiscence — but by and large people use such words more to show off than to communicate. I love the little bits of history you find in words — such as "candidate" having a Latin root meaning "white" because Roman candidates for office were required to wear white togas — and I love the way some words just belong with their definitions because their sounds match perfectly. As a journalist, I'm supposed to keep my wordsmithing fairly straightforward, but I can't help it. As soon as I can find a way to use the following words in the newspaper without risking a lawsuit, I'm going to use them: Skulduggery. A word used for behavior considered underhanded or unscrupulous — now there's another fun word — "skulduggery" is one of my all-time favorites. If the meaning alone isn't enough to convince you to add "skulduggery" to your vocabulary, consider how it rolls off your tongue. Skulduggery the sound and skulduggery the word go together like a duck and water. Whenever I hear "skulduggery," I picture a grave robber unearthing someone's bones. The image is of someone who is absolutely at home with corruption — a perfect match between sound and meaning. How can you not love a word with that sort of synergy? Flibbertigibbet. I probably never would have learned this word if my wife hadn't made me watch Rodgers and Hammerstein' s "The Sound of Music" with her last year. It remains one of the few things I gained from the movie, which otherwise sucked nearly three hours out of my life. "Flibbertigibbet" first arrived in English during the 15th century, some time after Geoffrey Chaucer wrote "The Canterbury Tales" but more than 100 years before William Shakespeare ever wrote his plays. The word refers to a silly person, a linkage boosted by the rapidity of its syllables, its repetition of the I and B sounds, and the lack of any hard consonants. It's soft, it's simple and it evokes images of a featherbrain who doesn't know when to stop singing. Another perfect match. Gerrymandering. Even though I've known this word since my social studies class in ninth grade, I've never had the chance to use it — not even last year, when New Jersey Republicans and Democrats were squabbling over how to carve the state's legislative districts. Based on the name and practices of Elbridge Gerry, a former governor of Massachusetts, "gerrymandering" is the act of establishing election districts that favor one political party at the expense of another, often by carving the districts into truly bizarre shapes. The "mander" part of the word comes from "salamander." True, Gerry probably wanted to be remembered for other accomplishments during his governorship, but he still attained lasting fame of a sort. It's not everyone who has a legacy carved into the substance of a language like that. Formicate. Part of the appeal of this word admittedly is that it sounds a little naughty, but the truth is that it's about as far from that other word as you can get. Unlike "fornicate," which comes from the Latin word for a brothel, the root word of "formicate" is "formica," or "ant." "Formication" therefore is the sensation of ants walking across your skin, and has nothing to do with whether you're married. If you formicate regularly, you probably are suffering severe hallucinations and will need extensive help getting rid of your delusory insects. Embrangle. Even if you've never heard this word before — it dates back to 1664, and doesn't get much use right now — its definition should be easy to grasp. Try saying it, and you'll sense its meaning just by what it does to your tongue. I first saw "embrangled" several years ago in an article in Time magazine. It refers to getting caught in a situation outside your control, or being embroiled in difficulty or conflict. Omphaloskepsis. A nice, long word that means "the contemplation of one's navel." It's also a good description of what goes into writing about words you find interesting. You may forward this article, but please leave this notice intact. Copyright © 2000-2002 by David A. Learn.