Silly stupid German
Anne-Friederike Heinrich, a freelance contributor to *Werbewoche*, on words, taboo words, and silly words.
At the moment, everyone in the German-speaking world is once again on the hunt for the Unword of the Year. In Germany, everyone has until the last day of December to submit suggestions as to which word deserves the dubious title of "Unwort des Jahres 2013". The adjective "system-relevant" has already been chosen as the Swiss bad word star of the year.
"Linguistic expressions become unwords because they are used by speakers either thoughtlessly or with intentions worthy of criticism, and this in a public context," defines the German Unword of the Year jury. Some of the most famous examples of unwords are Peanuts (1994), Kollateralschaden (1999) and Ich-AG (2002). My personal favorite is "Döner-Morde", the German unword of 2011.
Whisked language
Actually, the word "unword" is already an unword. Strictly speaking, an unword is a word that does not exist, a non-word - that is what the prefix un- says. It would therefore be more honest and wiser to speak of stupid words, because that is what they really are. There really are a lot of stupid words. And they are used gladly, often and very thoughtlessly. If you are looking for some, you will not only find them in the political unity palaver, but usually also among newly formed, trendy and funky Anglicisms or rather among words that would like to be just such Anglicisms. And yet they are nothing more than lively German-English slang. It's good, right and completely normal to take things "easy" in the Swiss language and get into a "car" in a relaxed manner. Language is alive, and foreign languages are lively. But doesn't it make your stomach turn when you read on a stand at the Christmas market: "Enjoy our non-alcoholic Finest drinks hot and cold"? Why such nonsense? Well, at least they didn't write "enjoy our finest drinks ...". I can't be that thirsty!
Language demolition
And in Zurich's villa district, dream apartments are now being built with "dressing rooms" (it's great to have your own salad bar!) and "built-in cupboards". You have to ask yourself whether it's just the creators of the advertising brochure or whether the architects are also on to something. Is a classic built-in wardrobe not sexy enough for a hut whose leanest version costs 1.5 million francs (for 2.5 rooms!)? And doesn't "dressing room" even sound more sophisticated than "dressing room"? It does to my ears. Well, if you don't understand exactly which rooms we're talking about, you can get your own impression of the "polygonal design" of the two "living spaces" in the "showroom" on the construction site. New meets old, living space meets teaching space and then there's a straight A in expression and grammar.
The only things missing from this completely muddled (linguistic) building are the "icecubemaker cold cupboard", a "Sitz Edge" and at least two "wet rooms", which in the past would have been referred to as wet rooms, but today are more likely to be called bathrooms or - if it's noble, then it's right - a wellness oasis. But since only Russians can afford a cottage on the Züriberg anyway, it is probably completely exaggerated to focus on linguistic subtleties. It's not unlikely that the dining room will be called "Za zdorov'e Raum" in a few years' time. And nobody will find that strange. Except for the Unword of the Year jury and a few language-loving, hopelessly dusty journos: "Ey, you're dusty [dösti], ey!"
