Can you bunk something? Can you combobulate me? (that sounds naughty:-)). I saw this list on Dictionary.com – where I am a frequent flyer (which also means I belong to a sub-culture known as “the socially awkward”). These are ten words which have essential prefixes. That means the root word without its prefix/suffix is no longer a part of the English lexicon. As I was enjoying the list I realized something. I wish I had a nerdy etymologist dude who just followed me around all day, constantly educating me with regard to the origins of words, their origins, etymology, the evolution of their use, synonyms and other options to increase my vocabulary. I have weird wishes. Anyway I think that at least two of these could extremely helpful neologisms, especially in their verb form:
1. Bunking should be used for those who work to create belief in something they know to be untrue, something that will later need to be debunked. “The politician was out bunking in an attempt to win an election,” or “I’m just bunking you.” I think it works. I’m using it.
2. Combobulating would be a great word for organizing unruly things. “I spent the afternoon combobulating the garage, and now I feel much better,” or “I think it’s time to combobulate the closet.” It works. I’m using it, too. If people don’t like it, let them freaking riot. I’ll be too busy combobulating my hard drive to care.
Here’s the list from Dictionary.com:
indelible: When something is indelible, it leaves a mark that cannot be erased or removed. The word refers not only to physical marks, as in “indelible ink,” but to unforgettable memories or experiences. But was anything ever just delible? Not since the 1800s when delible meant “capable of being removed.” By the 20th century the lonely delible was effectively nonexistent, but its memory lives on…indelibly.
impeccable: “The queen has the most impeccable manners.” Though in this example impeccable means faultless, flawless, and appropriately refers to the dexterous manipulation of the royal butter knife, the word once meant “not liable to sin.” This is probably because peccable meant “liable to sin.” Both words are derived from the Latin peccare meaning “to sin,” and though some things might still be sinful, they’ve rarely been peccable since 1900.
disgruntled: “I won and felted quite gruntled.” Not so much… no one in the history of English has ever been gruntled, though they’ve been disgruntled in many ways. When a person is disgruntled they are displeased, discontented, sulky, or peevish. The word is derived from the onomatopoetic sound a person makes when in a bad mood, a “grunt,” from the Old English grunnettan. In this case, the prefix dis- intensifies the medieval term of annoyance “gruntle,” so that to be disgruntled is to be extremely gruntled.
disgust: Unlike disgruntled, the dis- in disgust is as negative as they come. “Disgust” is a feeling of nausea, strong distaste, or loathing. The word is derived from the Latin gustare meaning “to taste,” and though it’s impossible to be simply gusted in English, it’s easy to do something with gusto that is with “zest, relish, and a hearty enjoyment as in eating or drinking.”nonchalant: When people are nonchalant they’re casual, unconcerned, and indifferent. They are often exasperatingly cool, and they are unmoved by situations that tend to rouse emotion in the hearts of passionate people. The word comes to English by way of the 18th century French nonchaloir meaning “to lack warmth (of heart),” but the root calere is derived from the Latin meaning “to be warm.”
disheveled: People look disheveled when their hair or appearance is untidy or disarranged. It comes to us from the Old French descheveler literally meaning “to disarrange the hair.” The base term sheveled never entered the English vernacular alone, so next time you roll out of bed with disheveled hair, take heart, looking sheveled simply isn’t an option.
reckless: This is the only word on our list whose negative addition is a suffix and not a prefix. To be reckless is to be “utterly unconcerned with the consequences of an action,” which might make a reck full person (if reckfull existed as a word in English) anal retentive. But in an apparent cultural move toward throwing caution to the wind, there hasn’t been much reck in common usage since 1810. Both words are derived from the Old English reccan meaning “to have care.”
debunk: This relatively young word debunk entered the vernacular as a neologism, invented by novelist William Woodward in his 1923 book Bunk. The main character in Woodward’s novel was known for “taking the ‘bunk’ (i.e., nonsense) out of things,” thus revealing a more honest truth. But the word is a derivation of an earlier Americanism, “bunkum” or insincere speech-making that emerged in Congress in 1819 when representative Felix Walker made an inane speech on the behalf of Buncombe County, North Carolina.
impinge: To impinge upon something is to “encroach” or “infringe” upon it, hindering it in some way as one might impinge upon another’s rights by denying them. The word is derived from the Middle Latin pangere meaning “to fix, fasten” and reintegrated as “to unfix” with the addition of the negative prefix im-. But in the 1530s the negative Latin form impingere grew to mean “to drive into, strike against,” a shade closer to our modern English definition.
discombobulate: To discombobulate is to confuse or disconcert as in, “they tried to discombobulate their attackers with a decoy.” Like “debunk,” discombobulate is also an Americanism, invented around the 1830s as a fanciful new spin on words like “discompose” and “discomfort,” and although the prefix remained, the base is still rather discombobulating.