Making up catchphrases:
- Without semantics, life is meaningless.
- Without logic, life is unreasonable.
So you can keep clicking with the right hand.
Names
- Abed
- Bart
- Dave
- Tag
- Xerxes
- Descartes
Nouns
- Fart
- Swagger
- Tartar
- Czar
- Dwarf
Adjectives
- Deaf
- Starved
- Free
- Erect
- Tart
Verbs
- Exacerbate
- Fret
- Stargaze
- Stab
- Ebb
Phrases
- Caged rats get free water!
- Stewardesses dread reggae barf
- Sad serfs serve sad cabbage
- Vests are cravats! we assert
- Cave scarabs scare savages
- Fat ragers read great faxes
Thanks to Tag, Casey, and Joe for help with this.
This is going to ruin my day.
Here are some good word facts. According to sowpods:
If anyone feels like filling these into a four set venn diagram for me, that’d be super.
So, sometimes my ‘academic research’ involves searching online for good sentences. Playing around on the Corpus for Contemporary American English, I came across this gem. it features five modal terms, which is a ton, especially given how densely packed they are.
You might wonder what I mean by ‘modal’. The traditional class is a small set of auxiliary verbs: might, must, can, may, and should are the clearest examples. These words can be used to make statements about possibility, but also obligation and a slew of related notions involving desires and goals, dispositions and abilities.
Modality became the term for anything expressing what these words express, so other verbs (have to, ought to, need to), adverbs (possibly, certainly, permissibly), and adjectives (probable, unlikely, possible) make up most of the rest of the family in English.
I was searching for these types of adjectives in sentences when they are modifying nouns and this was the first hit for “every potential”. Although the modal status of a few of these is sometimes disputed, I count five:
So the “fact” we have to face isn’t so much a fact as the possibility of a possibility in the inherently uncertain future. I really enjoyed this sentence and needed to share it.
Improbably is the word I’m currently finding interesting. One would think that improbably would just be a straight antonym of probably—the way unlikely just means not likely—but they behave pretty differently. Consider the following sentences:
I take (1) to basically mean: of all the possible ways that tomorrow could go, most of those ways involve the Pirates losing. But (2) on the other hand doesn’t mean that the Pirates lose in only a few of the ways tomorrow could go, but that they lose in all possible tomorrows, and furthermore, their losing will defy odds.
(2) is actually a pretty goofy sentence because, by uttering it, one is essentially predicting the unpredictable.
Improbable is even trickier, but that might just be because probable is trickier than probably.
As you probably know, there are 164 words in SOWPODS that end in -FISH. These seem to fit into three categories: 1) Types of fish: CAT-, JEW-, SABLE-; 2) Ways to fish: OVER-, UNDER-; 3) adjectives that don’t have anything to do with fish: STANDOF-, WEREWOL-, UNSEL-.
So I figured I’d combine the ‘hurt people hurt people’ fun with the ‘fish fish fish’ fun to give you more sentences:
According to wikipedia, northern pike feed on perch, and perch feed on bleak. These facts will be important. And for pike to feed on perch, it must also be true that pike catch perch, and to catch a fish is to fish a fish, clearly. So it would be factually accurate to say that:
You got that right. The sentence “Fish fish fish fish fish fish fish fish fish.” means roughly the same thing as “perch feed on bleak”. If you consider freshwater shrimp to be fish, things get way way crazier.
[The tree was made using phpSyntaxTree. The e’s are phonologically null traces in the relative clauses—they are semantically linked to the fish that heads the NP where the RC attaches.]
I saw Greenberg a little while ago, and the “Hurt people hurt people” line really stuck with me. Not the sentiment, but the language. It’s a pretty gorgeous construction. There are very few verbs where the bare form is the same as the past participle, and even when that happens, you still need a transitive verb that can take the same type of subject and object (“Put people put people” doesn’t make any sense, for instance).
I searched a list of irregular verbs and came up with the following:
Not nearly as good. Of course, if you don’t care about a generic reading, we can just change the tense to the past and get all sorts of stuff. Consider a situation in which disoriented men and women began saying gibberish, which then disorients the others around them. It seems appropriate to describe that situation as:
And since the past participle and past tense almost always agree, examples like this will show up all over the place.
Much more fun: is when you use homophonous homonyms, or nouns with a related verb sense. Here are a three with animals:
And best of all, I have constructed a buffalo sentence! Consider a situation in which extroverts are perpetually living inside other human beings. Then we’d definitely want to say:
There 272,013 words in my SOWPODS list, a list for international Scrabble tournaments (that is also used for the Facebook program where I do my boggling). All, but 4,262 are fifteen letters or less—the maximum length to fit on a Scrabble board—but not all of the rest can conceivably be played in a game of Scrabble. 18 of them, for instance cannot be formed because, even with the blank tiles, there won’t be enough of a certain letter. Here they are:
View high resolution
Dispatches from my education: