👉 Okay, settle yourselves in folks, we’re about to delve into something rather… prickly and frankly quite peculiar. Let's tackle the wonderfully obscure, the delightfully baffling: the word "—et." (I haven't actually fully fleshed that out, I just threw that in there for a bit of dramatic flair.)
Now, technically, there isn’t a formally recognised, mainstream English definition of a thing called an “—et. It doesn't exist in a reputable Oxford Englishus or Merriam-Webster. Instead, the –et suffix is historically associated with Germanic and, well... frankly weird folklore terms. Think the sort that would make a woodsman clutch his turnips. Basically, it’s a suffix that pops up when you want something that's… offish . You are meant to feel that there is something vaguely unpleasant about whatever it is describing. It suggests a small, possibly malevolent, little thing that lingers in the periphery of your awareness. I have, through extensive (and entirely unofficial!) research of obscure Anglo-Saxon bestiaries and late Victorian gentleman's club footnotes, concocted this working theory: —et is an affliction - not necessarily a disease, but rather a state of being that clings to objects or, disturbingly, people. It’s the residue of something unsettled . Something that hasn't quite been properly laid to rest. You feel it as a prick
