the inevitable return of the ragbag word summer series
last summer, i began the word summer series as a way to discover unfamiliar words lurking between the covers of the oxford english dictionary. i explained the premise like this:
every week, i will generate a random string of three letters (via this). i will then search for every entry in the oed that contains that string and report back the BEST word there is that fits this criterion.
the problem is that i started the “summer” series in the first week of may and i was soon bombarded with a smattering of hate letters from grade schoolers telling me that my definition of summer was biased and favored a more collegiate understanding of when summer begins. they argued that each exciting installment only served to remind them of how while everybody else was frolicking in their gardens enjoying esoteric words, they were chained to their desks learning a subject called social studies <gasp>.
because i’m sympathetic to their argument (and also because it’s been a frigid 15° celsius since april), i held off word summer series posts…until now.
week 1: okl
once you read through these words, you’re gonna be like “raynor, bibliokleptomaniac has got it all: books, obsession, vice, a greek pedigree and a porn-worthy length of 17 letters! why have you chosen the comparatively puny crookle as the winner?” my response to this theoretical heckler is: “because bibliokleptomaniac is the predictable choice and the word summer series will not be influenced by vegas oddsmakers, also the crookle lobby bought me a hot lunch once.”
bibliokleptomanic · an book-thief who is insane
bookling · a little book
brokle · easily broken, fragile
brooklynese · the form of speech generally found in uncultured use in new york city, but especially associated with the borough of brooklyn
monoklinohedric · a flower with both stamens and pistils, a hermaphrodite
rooklet · a young rock
yse-schokkill · variant of icicle

