Language in the age of AI: Whimsymaxxing the apocalypse

Cake pop is half-cake, half-lollipop. Picture a skewered Malteser, the treat a novelty on the language radar. Around September, dictionaries like America’s Merriam-Webster get a glow-up (another newbie) by looksmaxxing (a third) their database, adding some new 1400 words.

Food overall has been restless, the menu extended by chilli crisp, bao bun and a Japanese pepper called shishito. Far less tasty is promposal, a date you take to your year 12 dance. Though copium is handier, a hybrid of cope and opium, the stuff of stubborn optimism despite worsening news.

Much of Merriam’s intake is the obvious, as often happens in Lexi-Land. Terms like yacht rock have seemed to be around since Steely Dan first crooned. Ditto for neckbeard and whack-a-mole, Rickroll and Mandela effect – a syndrome where hordes share one false memory. Cuffing season does not relate to mass arrests or bedroom play but a pre-winter phase compelling singles to pair up, the dating equivalent of swooping season minus the maggies. Meanwhile shapewear explains itself, as does the weekday worker’s bout of Sunday scaries.

But let’s get back to -maxxing, that suffix busy “promposing” a dozen stems across the dictionary. Back in August, The Guardian’s Tim Dowling built a true/false quiz of 20 possible -maxxing match-ups, from Catholicmaxxing (exploiting RC iconography) to hobbitmaxxing (living a simpler, barefoot life). To save you the gotcha, all 20 were legit citations, including whimsymaxxing and bootymaxxing (alias bum-maxxing in the UK).