Pylimitics

Sometimes a root word or prefix ends up attached to a bunch of words that are particularly interesting to “logophiles,” or word-lovers. That’s certainly the case with the prefix “logo_,” which means “word” (from the Greek “logos,” same meaning).

For instance, if you go a bit to far in “logophilia” you might be described as a “logomaniac.” The 1899 Century Dictionary explained that a “logomaniac” was “One who is insanely devoted to words.” More recently “logomania” has been more associated with not just being nuts about words but using too many of them when speaking. Here’s an example from Think Like a Dinosaur, published in 1995:

“This is just me, talking.”
“You are crazy.”
“Actually, I believe the technical term is logomaniac. It’s from the Greek: logos meaning word, mania meaning two bits short of a byte. I just love to chat is all.”

This use of “logomania” isn’t technically quite right, though; there’s an official medical term for “pathologically excessive and often incoherent talking”: “logorrhea.”

Even more recently, the word “logomaniac” has been cast adrift of its connection with words and attached to corporate brands and logos — and “logomania” is used to describe obsession with brand images. This is because “logo” has been misused by corporations, which evidently exist primarily to evade blame for misusing…well, everything.

Another “logo-” word that’s recently reappeared (to an extent) is “logodaedalus.” Prior to very recently, this “logodaedalus” was most recently used in 1664, when a logodadalus was someone who used words extremely cleverly and invented new ones — just like Daedalus invented the labyrinth on Crete (where the Minotaur monster lived) and the flying apparatus he and his son Icarus used to try to escape (Daedalus himself really did escape, which is often ignored in that story about his foolish son.)

“Logodaedalus” has recently reappeared in the world of crossword puzzles, not only as an occasional entry but as the pen name of Donald Putnam, who creates “fiendishly difficult” crosswords.

Closely related to “logodaedalus” is “logodaedaly,” which is the ability to use “a goodly shew and flourish of Words, without much matter” according to Nathanial Bailey’s 1727 dictionary. Basically the same as what most people today call either “doubletalk” or “bullshit”!

But wait, there’s more! Someone engaged in logodaedaly might well be contributing to “logocide.” This isn’t the destruction (or killing) of a word, exactly — rather it’s something deadly to reason and communication, which doubletalk can certainly be. “Logocidal,” like most of the other “logo-” words above, is pretty obscure, but in recent years it’s been appearing in the Guardian newspaper from time to time. This seems to be due to just one writer: Marina Hyde, who has used it like this:

“David Cameron is far less of a logocidal maniac than Miliband, it must be said, but to listen to the message from any side these days is to wonder if they focus-grouped it in a head trauma unit.”

A logocidal maniac engaged in logodaedaly might be attempting to establish a logocracy (government of words) in which, of course, those in charge would be logogogues (issues of rules or laws about words). The state religion would be based on logos (a divine rational principle) and involve logomancy (divination of future events by using words). I suppose that in a society where words were raised to such a level of significance, the incidence of loganamnosis might also be elevated as more people became obsessed with trying to remember words they’d forgotten.

Remembering lots of words is important, of course, especially if you want to stroll around a loggia (a covered but open arcade) reciting a logia (collection of sayings). Or you could instead just make a note of them in your log.