Vintage Verbs: Consopite

Part 5 of a 5-part series on forgotten verbs

Consopite means to put to sleep.

You might say, "The meeting consopited Chad."

We recall the verb's Latin root sopire when we complain that something's soporific.

The Postman Always Rings Twice

I don't often hear from my life insurance carrier. 

The company silently sweeps the premium due every month from my bank account, while we go merrily about our separate ways.

I'm not sure I want to hear from the firm, to be frank.

But this week, I suddenly did.

The letter carrier brought a stately direct mail piece offering me a $400,000 accidental death and dismemberment policy.

It arrived one week to the day after the bombs blew up at the Boston Marathon.

Tchotchke peddlers began to cash in on the tragedy within 24 hours. 

An insurance company simply moves a bit slower.

Remember Rule 17

Rule 17 of Strunk & White's Elements of Style commands, "Omit needless words."

When eight of 10 readers scan—not read—your copy, according to Web usability researcher Jakob Nielsen, why stuff it with unwanted ideas?

Be selective.

Under the heading "Good Writing," Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote in his journal, "All writing should be selection in order to drop every dead word. Why do you not save out of your speech or thinking only the vital things?"

Vintage Verbs: Perquest

Part 4 of a 5-part series on forgotten verbs

Perquest means to search.

You might say, "Chad had to perquest his trashcan to find my email."

Canadian criminal law today still refers to a warranted search as a perquisition.

Vintage Verbs: Gignate

Part 3 of a 5-part series on forgotten verbs

Gignate means to produce.

You might say, "Chad gignated 200 leads with his email."

Nowadays we honor the verb's Latin root, oriri, to begin, and only say originate.