The name of every organization, or body of people, or doctrine, or country, or institution, or public building, was invariably cut down into the familiar shape; that is, a single easily pronounced word with the smallest number of syllables that would preserve the original derivation... This was not done solely with the object of saving time. Even in the early decades of the twentieth century, telescoped words and phrases had been one of the characteristic features of political language; and it had been noticed that the tendency to use abbreviations of this kind was most marked in totalitarian countries and totalitarian organizations... It was perceived that in thus abbreviating a name one narrowed and subtly altered its meaning, by cutting out most of the associations that would otherwise cling to it.
"Crap, is this gonna be the kind of future like in Battlefield Earth where they just slap two words together and think that makes it futuristic?"
"Attention everyone! Granny Smith apples are way more awesome if you call them T-Rex FlavrCrunchZ 2K10! ...Wait, hold on! That name offends even me!"
Silly capital letters in unlikely locations are the essence of software street credibility, says pundit LangForD.
— David Langford, PCW Plus, August 1991
I work in a common DigiCube fragmenting TruInfo until my PulsePlug informs my ChemChip that I can go home to my RoomFlat. You know, I suppose we also have more compound words in my time.