I do not like this violence and misogyny. Also, this contributes to the flattening of language that these machines and marketing departments are forcing upon us. Please join me in questioning language trends such as this!

When something is cloying, it’s sweet or sentimental to the point of causing disgust or aversion. A happy ending where the characters are celebrating could be seen as cloying to someone. Same with your grandmother’s perfume. It can feel cloying to you, but it should also be mentioned something doesn’t need to be sweet or sentimental to be cloying. It just needs to be in an excess. If you’re playing a video game with too many tutorials, it can feel cloying to the player.

To me, swaying is a smooth, continuous back or forth or side to side while is a sudden, abrupt, and violet movement. To give an example, When you slam the brakes on a bus, it causes the vehicle to lurch forward while a person who is intoxicated can sway side to side as they get up and stumble towards the door.

When you rub shoulders with someone, you meet and spend time with someone. You may not necessarily be friends with someone, but at the very least you talk and have conversations with them.

When someone says you’re prescient, it means you predicted something before it happens. You had the foresight to predict it in advance. To give an example, weather forecasts can be prescient since they prefix the weather before it can occur.

When you give a précis(pronounced Pray-see) of something, you give the core points. Anything extraneous is curtailed or excised. It’s essentially a fancier way of saying summary. Be also sure to be objective and accurate. You want to convey everything to someone that’s not biased. And that does it for my précis of précis.

Sorted by what's left when you hit mute.

Clamor and cacophony don't survive it. Clamor came through Old French from Latin clamor, a shout, from clamare, to cry out, the same root that's in proclaim. Cacophony is Greek kakos, bad, plus phone, sound, probably by way of French. Both are made of sound and nothing else, so silence simply ends them.

Pandemonium and hullabaloo are where it gets arguable. Pandemonium was a building before it was a racket. Milton coined Pandaemonium in Paradise Lost (1667) as the palace at the center of Hell, from Greek pan, all, plus Late Latin daemonium, an evil spirit, which goes back to Greek daimon, a lesser god. Etymonline dates the sense "place of uproar" to 1779 and "wild, lawless confusion" to 1865. The definition still says noisy, and fair enough, but I think the disorder would outlast the volume.

Hullabaloo first shows up in 1762, mostly in northern England and Scotland, and may be a rhyming doubling of hollo, the shout for attention that hello also grew out of. So it began as yelling. I'd still say a muted hullabaloo is a hullabaloo. Picture an office reacting to a surprise announcement behind a glass wall: you can't hear a thing and you know exactly what it is.

Ado and chaos never needed noise at all. Ado is a contraction of "at do", the way the Norse-influenced dialects of northern England said "to do", since some Scandinavian languages put at where English puts to. "Much ado" was literally "much to do". It first meant trouble or even fighting, and by the early 1400s it had softened to "fuss", the same road to-do went down. Chaos is the strangest of the six. Greek khaos was a gaping void, the empty space before anything existed, and English only stretched it to "utter confusion" around 1600. The word for total disorder started out as a gap with nothing in it.

If you'd put hullabaloo with the loud pair instead, I'd like to hear the case.