What the heckage is logodaedaly? A word, apparently. This morning I found it on my doorstep. The dog growled, then jumped over it to get outside. It was quite a jump, given how long the thing was.
“What are you, anyway?” said I to logodaedaly.
“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
Apparently this fool hadn’t heard of Google. Searching it (after 27 misspellings), I found that both Merriam and Webster defined logodaedaly as “arbitrary or capricious coinage of words.”
Very cool. Words arbitrarily made at the U.S. Mint.
Before I put it in the bank, however, I checked the be-all, end-all called Wikipedia. It assured me that logodaedaly is only found in larger dictionaries. And on my doorstep. And in a poem called “Defenestration,” which is about jumping or being tossed out of French windows in an adventitious way, monsieur.
We should all get more fresh air, no?
To make a long word short, I took the little logo in. Maybe it would be useful, in a brillig kind of way, for future poems. Ones where I couldn’t come up with le mot juste because le mot juste was being une petite pisser and playing hide-and-go-seek.
But for now, there’d be no writing or coining. I had a football game to cook for.
First, though, where to store the logodaedaly. Ultimately I stuck it in the portmanteau. That’s where I keep all things that confuse me, like 500-piece puzzles and Trump sentences.
“Any portmanteau in a storm,” I was taught as a kid. That and, “Out of sight, out of mind. Sleight of hand, sleight of mind.”
And now, as a good Massophile, I will begin my prep work for some savory thermochiliancarnage made by way of slow cooker. You know, for the tomcast tonight–the one with all those great commercies and that wonderful intersticialact at hemitime.
Nota Bene: If you’re a poet in need of logodaedaly, it can be had at $3.99 a pound on Amazon. “If it ain’t a word, it is now,” says the description (now that’s poetic license). Click to cart, is my advice. Amazon is open on Sundays. Mice and track pads are standing by!