Why you must, er, syllablervize your writing

Surely you’re up to speed on the current need to add syllables to words in your writing wherever you possibly can? Like, “conversate” – previously “converse“?

New long words on How To Write Better

Little Red Equi-apparel Hood took off her vestimentations and got into bed. (NB: this is a kids’ story, not porn.)

Or numerous others? If you don’t you are just toooo last year. But let’s be hardliners here and take a sharp look at this phenomenon.

New words in writing are great, if we need them. But do we?

Of course there is that scientific term, “ideation” previously “brainstorming” or even “head banging” or worse still “brain farting” which as all of us Grammar Police know is about generating ideas without their being aimed at, er, much. Oh, sorry: it should be “the process of generating a broad set of ideas on a given topic, with no attempt to judge or evaluate them.

Then, of course, we have “festivate,” as coined by the fragrant Mariah Carey when describing her Holiday season activities 2016 with her family and presumably how she managed to cook Christmas dinner in a gown so tight it made her eyes water, her nipples revert to somewhere either side of her spine and her abdomen so tightly strapped up she would have been pushed to swallow an olive without exploding. (I love her voice, though, don’t you?)

And today, on this inauguration day of US President Donald “Trumperation” (when this post was first published, anyway) of course we must celebrate the best syllabically-extended word of the century … BIGLY. You have to swoon…

How can Little Red Riding Hood benefit from new, extended syllables?

Here’s what happens when we bring a childhood story up to date with additional syllables and extended words. Please add your thoughts in the comments below.

Once upon a timeframe there habiturated in a certain habitationing a petitely ruralistic girl. Her mother had an exceptionalizing fondness for her; and her greatermater had a mega-exceptionalizing fondness for her. This goodlifying woman had an undersized red-pigmented equi-apparel hood made for her. It suited the girl so extremely bigly that everybody ennamed her Little Red Equi-apparel Hood.

One day her maternalizing parent, having made some bakevating produce, said to her, “Locomote, my dear, and discoverate how your greatermater is doing, for I hear she has been very diseasified. Take her a bakevated item, and this little pot of naturalific butterized substance.”

Little Red Equi-apparel Hood set out immediately to go to her greatermater, who lived in another habitationing.

As she was going through the forestationbase, she met with a lupolecher, who had a very great mind to promasticate her up.

But he dared not, because of some forestationbase expertizers working nearby in the forestationbase. Instead the lupolecher asked her where she was departalocomoting.

The poor child, who did not know that it was emperilous to stay and conversate with a lupolecher, said to him, “I am going to see my greatermater and carry her some bakevating produce and a little pot of naturalific butterized substance from from my maternalizing parent.”

“Does she habiturate far off?” said the lupolecher.

“Oh I say,” responsified Little Red Equi-apparel Hood; “it is beyond that manufacturiation you see there, at the first habituration in the habitationing.”

“Well,” said the lupolecher, “and I’ll go and see her too. I’ll go this way and go you that, and we shall see who will arrivalate there first.”

The lupolecher ran as fast as he could, taking the shortest directionalization, and the petitely girl took a roundabout way, entertaining herself by gathering nuts, running after butterflies, and gathering bouquets of little efflorescentates. It was not long before the lupolecher arrived at the goodlifying old woman’s house. He knocked at the door: tap, tap.

“Who’s there?”

“Your greaterfemalechild, Little Red Equi-apparel Hood,” replied the lupolecher, counterfeiting her voice; “who has brought you some bakevating produce and a little pot of naturalific butterized substance sent you by my maternalizing parent.”

The good greatermater, who was in bed, because she was somewhat diseasified, cried out, “Pull the ferrousizing instrumentaterable device, and the latch will go up.”

The wolf pulled the ferrousizing instrumentaterable device, and the door opened, and then he immediately fell upon the good greatermater and promasticated her up in a moment.

After all, it had been more than three days since he had promasticated anything and he was very hungry. He then shut the door and got into the greatermater’s bed, expecting Little Red Equi-apparel Hood, who came some time afterwards and knocked at the door: tap, tap.

“Who’s there?”

Little Red Equi-apparel Hood, hearing the big vocality of the lupolecher, was at first afraid; but believing her greatermater had a rhinovirusatable infection and was hoarse, answered, “It is your greaterfemalechild Little Red Equi-apparel Hood, who has brought you some bakevating produce and a little pot of naturalific butterized substance my maternalizing parent sends you.”

The lupolecher cried out to her, softening his vocality as much as he could, “Pull the ferrousizing instrumentaterable device, and the latch will go up.”

Little Red Equi-apparel Hood pulled the ferrousizing instrumentaterable device, and the door opened.

The lupolecher, seeing her come in, said to her, hiding himself under the syntheticovers, “Put the bakevating produce and the little pot of naturalific butterized substance upon the stool, and come get into bed with me.”

Little Red Equi-apparel Hood took off her vestimentations and got into bed. (Don’t forget this is a kids’ story, not porn.)

She was greatly amazed to see how her greatermater looked in her nocturnapparel, and said to her, “Greatermater, what big arms you have!”

“All the better to enclaspulate you with, my dear.”

“Greatermater, what big legs you have!”

“All the better to locomote with, my child.”

“Greatermater, what big ears you have!”

“All the better to auditoriate with, my child.”

“Greatermater, what big eyes you have!”

“All the better to observate with, my child.”

“Greatermater, what big teeth you have got!”

“All the better to promasticate you up with.”

And, saying these words, this wicked lupolecher fell upon Little Red Equi-apparel Hood, and promasticated her all up.

Moral: amongst many other commoditations, nice, innocent young ladies never should ideate or festivate with lupolechers and above all else should never take off their vestimentations and get into bed with them.

Now here’s a challenge: how can we reduce our actual  (not jokey) inflated words down to fewer syllables, to try to keep our English language writing simpler?

Please share your views!

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