Hello, Jiggle
A whimsical exploration of words, motion, and life as oscillating patterns in an interconnected electromagnetic universe.
We Are All Jiggles
Lately, in a world that feels permanently clenched, with wars rumbling on as they always seem to, and a ruling class behaving exactly as history suggests it will, I’ve found myself wanting to loosen the grip a little. As someone who subscribes to a plasma cosmology view of reality, where everything is structured motion in an electromagnetic field, I couldn’t resist turning “jiggle” into a common noun.
It may be playful, perhaps even pointless, but for a brief moment, I invite you into this whimsical thought experiment: What if we are not rigid beings in a rigid world, but lively patterns of oscillation? What if we are animated jiggles in a vast, interconnected, and jiggling field? What if I called you a jiggle?
As an AudHD mind, I’ve always loved words. The way they make me feel. The imagery invoked. Their sounds. The hidden trails of their etymology. And I particularly delight in bending, reshaping, and repurposing them to carve out meanings that feel uniquely mine.
Turning verbs into nouns is a common linguistic process known as nominalization. It allows actions to become things, movements to become objects of thought, and processes to become concepts. “To run” becomes “a run.” “To move” becomes “a movement.”
In technical and academic language, this often serves precision and abstraction. It enables complex systems, states, and theories to be discussed as stable entities. Culturally, it also allows fleeting experiences to crystallize into shared ideas, trends, and movements.
By contrast, turning nouns into verbs, which is verbification, tends to feel more dynamic and modern. But maybe that’s me. We “Google” information. We “friend” someone online. We “host” an event. Both shifts reflect a natural linguistic flexibility. Languages constantly reshape words to meet new realities, whether for technical clarity in science and philosophy or playful invention in everyday speech. It is part of how culture metabolizes change.
The word jiggle dates back to the mid-17th century and is likely derived from a frequentative form of jig. This originally meant a quick, lively motion or dance. Jig itself may come from the Middle English gigge, meaning a whirling or bouncing movement, and was associated with playful, rapid motions.
Over time, jiggle evolved to describe small, repeated, wobbly movements, often light and irregular. And so, it retains that sense of playful, energetic motion inherent in its dance-related origins.
Jiggle (verb): To jiggle is to move up and down or from side to side with small, quick, irregular motions, often lightly or repeatedly. In simple terms, it is a gentle, wobbly shaking motion.
For example, she jiggled the key in the lock to get it to turn. The jelly began to jiggle when the plate was touched. He jiggled his knee nervously under the table. As a verb, we all know what jiggle means.
The word usually implies small movement, quick motion, and slight looseness or wobble. What it certainly does not do is suggest forceful shaking, which would be described instead as rattling or, well, I suppose shaking.
Jiggle (noun): As a noun, a jiggle is a small, quick, irregular movement. It is an instance of wobbling motion. We can deliberately reframe the term into a conceptual noun, almost ontological in scope. And with that, we can reframe it as a common noun.
Applying this concept to organisms within plasma cosmology and electromagnetic field language, the universe is not regarded as empty. It is structured by electromagnetic filaments, plasma currents, and charge differentials. Matter may be understood as stable vibration. Form may be understood as patterned oscillation.
Within this framework, a human can be described as a coherently organized electromagnetic jiggle inside a larger cosmic jiggle. More formally, a jiggle in the organismic sense is a self-organizing, semi-stable oscillatory structure within a larger electromagnetic field.
Rather than saying that we are bodies made of matter, we might say that we are nested jiggles. At the level of “quantum” (this godforsaken word, which essentially means “how much” is very ironically a proverbial pet hate of mine, but I shalln’t digress), there are field excitations. At the atomic level, electron probability clouds. At the molecular level, bond vibrations. At the cellular level, membrane potentials. At the neural level, electrochemical oscillations. Even the heart generates measurable bioelectromagnetic fields, and to some, consciousness itself may be described as patterned oscillatory coherence. (To me, consciousness is a function, but let’s not go down that road either.)
In this layered sense, a human is a high-coherence jiggle within a planetary-scale jiggle, within a solar jiggle, within a galactic jiggle.
I think the linguistic strength of the term lies in what it suggests. It implies motion rather than static being. It implies lightness rather than solidity. It implies relational movement, since nothing jiggles in isolation. Though colloquial in tone, it aligns surprisingly well with a field-theory understanding of reality. The information-energy substrate, if you will.
If formalized further, related terms could emerge. A jiggleform could refer to the visible structural pattern of a jiggle. Jigglement could describe the state of being in oscillatory relation. Co-jiggling could denote resonance between structures. A meta-jiggle could indicate a larger field within which smaller jiggles organize.
In cosmological framing, plasma forms structures such as filaments, double layers, Birkeland currents, and other self-organizing configurations. Within that language, a jiggle may be defined as an active, localized coherence node within a plasma filament network. Humans, then, may be understood as shifting, biological plasma-coherent structures embedded within Earth’s electromagnetic environment.
Jiggle (common noun): A Jiggle may be defined as a bounded but dynamic pattern of oscillation within a larger energetic field. Instead of meaning merely a small shake, it becomes a localized standing-wave of motion within a continuous medium.
As for adding “jiggle” as a common noun to the urban dictionary, not just the Urban Dictionary, the case is compelling. That is, if you ask me. A jiggle could be any living organism. Because what is life if not animated oscillation, as plasma cosmology would insist. More delightfully, it could mean someone you genuinely “vibe” with.
As a common noun, a jiggle can playfully describe any lively, animate being. A small bundle of motion, energy, and expressive presence. It suggests someone dynamic rather than static. Someone full of subtle movement, mood, and personality.
Used as a pet name, “jiggle” becomes affectionate and intimate, implying warmth, fondness, and a sense of shared rhythm. Saying, “What you up to, jiggle?” or “Hey jiggle, how you?” frames the person as a beloved little universe of animated energy. Someone whose presence feels light, vibrant, and endearingly alive.
“She’s a proper jiggle” might describe a person whose energy aligns with yours. Whose frequency just resonates. So, instead of saying, “We vibe together.” One could say, “We jiggle together.” It suggests warmth, compatibility, and low-friction existence. Not just a friend. Not just a crush. But someone whose electromagnetic wobble fits neatly with your own.
And on that note, I thank you for being such a great jiggle and indulging this small rebellious act of silliness. Pausing to revel in wordplay is no small act in serious times. Now, with a slightly lighter resonance, you may return to your regularly scheduled responsibilities, unfolding headlines, ongoing wars, and that reliably corrupt ruling class. Carrying, I hope, at least a faint hum of playful oscillation with you.
A jiggle in a jiggle, in a jiggle, in a jiggle.
Thanks for reading Common Variant! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. To learn more about how I came to see the world through the lens of electric universe theory, I invite you to explore my other work, Redire Ad Solem, where I recount both my own journey and our shared passage through this plasma cosmos as we “Return to the Sun.”