I have been engaged this week in philological research. That is why I tried to weigh our big dictionary on the bathroom scale. I thought it would be easier to quantify the English language by weight than content. It is an old dictionary that I have used since 1962 and very heavy --so big I couldn't read the dial. I checked the scale to see if it was working properly. It was not.
So far the process has hoarked up a champion born and raised downwind of Rancho Seco in the faintly glowing (radium-green at night) western frontier town of Bleeding Scrotum, California. I know this because I looked up the word, Kakistocracy, in the dictionary and made the rest up. But I'm sure there are newer words, if not better words, to describe the calamities of our times. For that, I recommend Global Language Monitor, an organization that has kept count of English words since 1999 (after which a new millennium dawned over an administration --2001-2009-- that at least tripled our Kakistocratic adjectives).
In fact, Global Language Monitor calculated the million-word count was exceeded in June of 2009 and now stands over 1,026,000, representing a new word being added to our language every hour and a half. When I first got my dictionary, as a young teen, new words were not so frequent as that. In fact, the musical giants of our time were called upon to herald each new word into communal lexicon with artistry and dignity. I remember the excitement caused by worldwide consensus that we should create a word for feathered things that fly --this example, if listened to enough, will bring tears of nostalgia and ear-damage:
Bird Is The Word
Although it was filmed in black and white, I've always imagined this stage glowing green.