OnWords

In his call for “extreme vetting,” the president-elect has given the word “extreme” a bit of a comeback.

“Extreme” had a good run in the ‘90s, applied to everything from rock bands to bowling.

And even though the excesses of the 2000s were far greater, we seemed then to have used the word less, almost as if “extreme” was no longer adequate to describe the billions of dollars scammed by complex financial transactions and made-up mortgages.

The term “post-fact world” is gaining frightening currency these days.

The idea here is that facts no longer matter in public discourse, that people can say whatever they want, and if something reinforces what people think, they’ll believe it, no matter the evidence to back it up.

At issue is not just how we communicate with one another, but whether or not language is really able to carry straightforward meaning.

The word “refugee,” though quite well placed in a certain Tom Petty song, has become quite rare.

We get to hear the word “transition” a lot during this season, as we move from summer to fall, and fall to winter. If nothing else, the political scene seems to be making up for any transitions the weather has failed to deliver. But “transition” has gathered a remarkable amount of baggage for a fairly technical, Latinate word.

This past election season, we’ve seen a spate of unfriending. In order for “unfriend” to be a verb, “friend” must also have become one.

To “friend” a person is a function of social media. The process is as simple as clicking a virtual button and sending a request, to be requited or refused in the great digital beyond. Back in ancient times when “friend” was only a noun, this process was much more drawn out. You “befriended” someone, which implies that the onus of beginning the process was on you. Or you “made friends with” someone. You put in the work to build something new.

We tend to use the word “media” somewhat ungrammatically.

It is plural, but we generally reference “the media” as if it’s a single entity and not various different ways of conveying information.

This is curious, since the last few decades have seen a proliferation of new media, each medium failing to completely supplant the last.

Perhaps we lump all media together because the messages we receive from our various sources are largely the same.

I’m not going to argue here that Donald Trump was justified in calling his hot-mic admission of sexual assault “locker room talk.”

Rather, I’m going to suggest that such candid speech is probably necessary.

This commentary originally aired on February 23, 2016.  

When I was growing up, my cousins and I were sometimes accused of being honyocks.

“Honyock” was applied to us by older relatives who were tired of our noise and horseplay and just wanted us to settle down and cut it out already. 

Online sources of varying quality contend that “honyock” is either a Hungarian word making fun of country folk or an English word making fun of Hungarians. One source even says that “honyock” comes from German and means “honey chaser.”

The listicle is familiar to all readers of Buzzfeed and HuffPo, as well as to the denizens of Cracked and a zillion other online venues.

I’m not much of a word stickler, but I do object to people confusing the word “simple” with the word “simplistic.”

“Simple” means, well, simple: uncomplicated, straightforward, easy to understand.

A simple design is clean, but it can also be clever. Sometimes a simple solution takes a whole lot more thought than a complicated one.

“Simplistic,” in contrast, is oversimplified, dumbed-down, and probably stupid from the get-go, like the idea that building a wall on the Southern border will solve the immigration problem.