Words are my weapon of choice.
I had originally considered pistols at dawn, but a great, sucking chest wound is sartorially cumbersome.
And functioning lightsabres are still, lamentably, scientifically impossible.
The awkward and inept flailings to which the English language is frequently subjected sometimes drives me near to grief at the thought that the tool most often used to communicate is wielded so poorly by so many.
Were language a household VCR, I imagine that those of most would still be blinking 12:00.
I especially love English (if I can get away with saying this, not speaking any other language with anything approaching fluency) since it lends itself better than any other to neologisms that can be readily adopted and easily understood. If humans evolved as quickly as our language has done, we'd all be gods by now. Or at least some sort of meta-deity capable of flicking his thumb to produce a flame and ignite his own farts at parties.
One of the ways I strive to appease my thirst as a philomath is via the utilisation and expansion of my vocabulary. I write here to practise the application of what skills I already have, which I attempt to bolster with new learnings and a wider array of words at my disposal. More bullets for the magasine so I can shoot my mouth off with increasing eloquence. Or at least give the semblance of eloquence. Semblaquence?
There's a balance, of course, between a well-chosen word that adds weight to an intended sentiment or just makes one sound like a fustian fop. I'm still walking the fence and sometimes find that I've inadvertently (or intentionally) leapt liberally over to one side or the other, tucking my legs up and shouting, "Cannonball!" as I plummet. So long as I clamber back up to a happy medium and keep on keepin' on, I figger I'm doing okay.
I subscribe to a word-a-day Email that builds my vocabulary with some less frequently used English gems. I'm happy to say that I know most of them when they hit my inbox. A product of being a voracious reader since Dick and Jane and Spot first sparked my literary esurience. But those that are new to me, or which I can't quite use comfortably in context, are immediately saved for future reference and I'll surreptitiously slip another bullet into my bandolier.
I ignore the ones that I know will never find their way into a conversation or piece of writing - blanks, if you will - but the rest get stored away and reviewed regularly. If I can slip 'quondam' into a conversation, there's no way that day's been a total write-off, no matter what else transpired. Small things.
Just because I can, here's the list. I add to it, on average, once or twice a week.