The word I referred to on Wednesday as a second illustration of the use of the combination word –philia is coprophilia. (The suffix –philia refers to an abnormal attraction.) The copro- part of the word comes from the Greek word kopros, which means dung. Synonyms including feces, but my dictionary puts coprolite in brackets. Coprolite is defined as the fossilized excrement of animals. The word coprophilia was formed in 1934.
Other words using the prefix copro- are coprology (the study or treatment of scatological or pornographic subjects in art or literature), coprophagous (feeding on dung, as some beetles do), and coprophilia, which is defined as a Psychological term referring to the abnormal interest in feces (which after today you may accuse me of, which is why I’m doing this on vacation).
So what is the difference between dung, feces, and excrement?
Dung, which is found in both Middle English and Old English, is probably identical with a prison which was made originally from a cellar covered with dung for warmth, as was used in Old Saxon and Old High German was spelled tung, and referred to a cellar where women wove. Those words came from the IndoEuropean base word dheng-, which meant to cover. Dung is used now as the word that refers to animal excrement, or manure. (It’s also used as a synonym for filth.) Neither dungeon nor dungarees has any association with dung.
Feces is a noun plural and refers to waste matter expelled from the bowels, or human excrement. It comes from the Latin faeces, which is the plural of faex, which means dregs or lees. (Sometimes definitions require defining – dregs are the solid matter which settle at the bottom of a liquid and lees refer to the solid matter which settle at the bottom of wine.) It came to English in the mid-1400s.
Excrement is a synonym for feces and dung, and is the more “polite” word. It came originally from the Latin word excrementum which is from the Latin word excretus, from which we get excrete. From Latin it came through French (excrement) before it came to English. It can be used for animal or human waste. While it came to English in the 1530s, it originally referred to any bodily secretion, but since the mid-18th century has been exclusively used of feces.
So what’s the word for the study of feces or of fossil excrement? Scatology. The prefix scato- comes from the Greek skor, which is the genitive form of the word skatos, which means excrement. Skatos comes from the IndoEuropean base word sker-, which means to defecate, and from there goes to Old Norse as skarn, and Old English as scearn, which was another word for dung that didn’t last as far as Middle English. It originally referred to obscene literature, and the short form scat (referring also to dung) is from the 1950s.
Poop is another scatological word, probably from the Middle English word puopen, which meant to make an abrupt sound or blow or gulp. It is a both an onomatopoetic and a slang word. It isn’t much of a leap from passing gas to poop and it’s only conjecture, but from via some dialect it came to refer to excrement. It is found as long ago as 1744.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Xenophyte is a Xero
I chose the words for today because xerophyte is the only word I have in my “some day blog on this word” list that begins with any one of the last four letters of the alphabet – I also don’t have any words on that list that begin with the letter j. I originally misread the word as xenophyte (there is no such word, to my knowledge), and was wondering the difference between xenophyte and xenophobe. When I went to my dictionary to look for the two words, I found xenophilia there, so even in looking up words I find new good words. When I didn’t find xenophyte I realized I’d misspelled it but now had three words to consider.
I don’t know where I encountered the word xerophyte in my reading, but it’s a good word for my garden plans. It refers to any plant that is structurally adapted to growing under very dry or desert conditions. (Greatly reduced leaf surfaces to avoid water loss, thick fleshy parts for water storage, and hairs, spines or thorns.) It comes from a combination of the Greek word for dry, xero-, and the Greek word for plant, phyton. It and xenophilia are the first two words in my dictionary that aren’t in etymonline.com.
The –phyte suffix is also used in the word neophyte. Neophyte comes from neo-, the Greek word for new, and a different etymological source word in Greek: phytos, which means produce or grow, or plant. It is used in the New Testament (in I Timothy 3:6) to refer to a new convert. It retains that meaning, but now is expanded to refer to any person who’s new to something. By the way, this is the first time I know that I’ve encountered a scripture reference in my dictionary and/or etymonline.com (it was in both). While it has been found in English since about 1550, its use was rare until the 19th century. And it has long had the double sense of convert and new person to any endeavor (its first recording of the second sense was in 1599).
Xenophobia, which is, according to etymonline.com, “coined” from the Greek word xenos (meaning foreign or strange) and phobia (meaning fear), is a relatively recent addition to English, having a coinage date of 1903. Its definition is a fear or hatred of strangers or foreigners or of anything foreign or strange. Whether this is also a diagnosis I’ll leave to someone with a DSM on their shelf.
Xenophilia is, according to Answers.com, the opposite of xenophobia. In other words, it is the attraction to or admiration of strangers or foreigners or of anything foreign or strange. The -philia comes from the Greek word for loving, philos.
The suffix –philia has a couple of suggested meanings in my dictionary, and one of them is a new word to me. The first meaning is “tendency toward” as in the word hemophila (hemo- is from the Greek word for blood, haimo- or haima- , and hemophilia is “a hereditary” – I didn’t know that – “condition in which one of the normal blood-clotting factors is absent, causing prolonged bleeding from even minor cuts and injuries.” The fact that it occurs in males and is transmitted by females is also something of which I was unaware.)
The second meaning given for –philia is “abnormal attraction to” as in coprophilia. Coprophilia is a new word to me, and will be the subject of Sunday’s scatological blog. Something to look forward to…maybe.
I don’t know where I encountered the word xerophyte in my reading, but it’s a good word for my garden plans. It refers to any plant that is structurally adapted to growing under very dry or desert conditions. (Greatly reduced leaf surfaces to avoid water loss, thick fleshy parts for water storage, and hairs, spines or thorns.) It comes from a combination of the Greek word for dry, xero-, and the Greek word for plant, phyton. It and xenophilia are the first two words in my dictionary that aren’t in etymonline.com.
The –phyte suffix is also used in the word neophyte. Neophyte comes from neo-, the Greek word for new, and a different etymological source word in Greek: phytos, which means produce or grow, or plant. It is used in the New Testament (in I Timothy 3:6) to refer to a new convert. It retains that meaning, but now is expanded to refer to any person who’s new to something. By the way, this is the first time I know that I’ve encountered a scripture reference in my dictionary and/or etymonline.com (it was in both). While it has been found in English since about 1550, its use was rare until the 19th century. And it has long had the double sense of convert and new person to any endeavor (its first recording of the second sense was in 1599).
Xenophobia, which is, according to etymonline.com, “coined” from the Greek word xenos (meaning foreign or strange) and phobia (meaning fear), is a relatively recent addition to English, having a coinage date of 1903. Its definition is a fear or hatred of strangers or foreigners or of anything foreign or strange. Whether this is also a diagnosis I’ll leave to someone with a DSM on their shelf.
Xenophilia is, according to Answers.com, the opposite of xenophobia. In other words, it is the attraction to or admiration of strangers or foreigners or of anything foreign or strange. The -philia comes from the Greek word for loving, philos.
The suffix –philia has a couple of suggested meanings in my dictionary, and one of them is a new word to me. The first meaning is “tendency toward” as in the word hemophila (hemo- is from the Greek word for blood, haimo- or haima- , and hemophilia is “a hereditary” – I didn’t know that – “condition in which one of the normal blood-clotting factors is absent, causing prolonged bleeding from even minor cuts and injuries.” The fact that it occurs in males and is transmitted by females is also something of which I was unaware.)
The second meaning given for –philia is “abnormal attraction to” as in coprophilia. Coprophilia is a new word to me, and will be the subject of Sunday’s scatological blog. Something to look forward to…maybe.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Catchup on Ketchup
On April 28 I entitled the blog Catchup (or is it Ketchup?) but didn’t address the word on which the title was drawn. One June 2 I mentioned BOTUI, and it is the source of information that spurred today’s blog. Here’s what it says:
Ketchup has its roots in seventeenth century China. In 1690, Chinese cooks developed a brine sauce of pickled fish, shellfish, and spices that they used on fish and fowl. They called the tangy sauce “ke-tsiap.” This new sauce became popular and its use spread to Malaya, where it was called “ketchop.” In the early eighteenth century, English sailors traveling to Malaysia and Singapore bought the ketchop and brought it home to England. English cooks tried to imitate the Chinese recipe, but lacking many of the Eastern ingredients, substituted mushrooms, walnuts, and cucumbers. The English called this concoction “ketchup.”
…Its introduction to the United States came in 1792 when a recipe for tomato “catsup” was published in a cookbook. It didn’t become widely popular in the United States until H. J. Heinz began mass producing it in 1876.
Some further elucidations from etymonline.com: It gives the very specific date of its first use as 1711, and says it is from the Malay word spelled kichap, (my dictionary spells it kechap) and from the Chinese word (specifying the Amoy dialect) spelled koechiap. (My dictionary agrees with the BOTUI spelling.)
Etymonline also adds that “catsup (earlier catchup) is a failed attempt at Anglicization, still in use in U.S.” (Catchup is another accepted alternate spelling.) And one added note from etymonline.com: the modern form of the sauce began to emerge when U.S. seamen added tomatoes.
According to Answers.com, it was in 1940 that “the U.S. government established a "Standard of Identity" for ketchup as tomato-based.” Prior to that time, it was common for ketchup to be made from things other than tomatoes, since "including bananas, beets, or mangoes.”
Just in time for summer cookouts, you now have freedom to add bananas or beets or mangoes to your ketchup. (Or for Independence day add blueberries and chunks of bananas for a “red, white and blue” ketchup. It’d make a great sauce for barbecued pork chops.)
What’s the difference between a sauce and a condiment? A condiment is “any seasoning or relish for food” (my dictionary says) and either spices, flavorings, or a sauce can be a condiment. A sauce is a liquid or soft dressing served with food. So a sauce can be a condiment, but condiments aren't necessarily sauces.
Condiment came into Middle English through the Old French which came from the Latin word condimentum, from the word for pickling, condire. It appeared in English in the early 15th century.
The word sauce took the same path to mid-14th century English, through Middle English and Old French (sause, sausse, or sauce), and the Latin word from which it came is the word for salted food: salsa, the plural form of the word salsus.
Let's follow salsus another direction: into Vulgar Latin as salsicia, then from there to Old French (saulcisse) then into Old Norman French (saussiche) then into the Middle English word sausige and you have something to put the ketchup onto…chopped meat with plenty of condiments mixed in: sausage, or sawsyge as it was spelled in about 1450.
Ketchup has its roots in seventeenth century China. In 1690, Chinese cooks developed a brine sauce of pickled fish, shellfish, and spices that they used on fish and fowl. They called the tangy sauce “ke-tsiap.” This new sauce became popular and its use spread to Malaya, where it was called “ketchop.” In the early eighteenth century, English sailors traveling to Malaysia and Singapore bought the ketchop and brought it home to England. English cooks tried to imitate the Chinese recipe, but lacking many of the Eastern ingredients, substituted mushrooms, walnuts, and cucumbers. The English called this concoction “ketchup.”
…Its introduction to the United States came in 1792 when a recipe for tomato “catsup” was published in a cookbook. It didn’t become widely popular in the United States until H. J. Heinz began mass producing it in 1876.
Some further elucidations from etymonline.com: It gives the very specific date of its first use as 1711, and says it is from the Malay word spelled kichap, (my dictionary spells it kechap) and from the Chinese word (specifying the Amoy dialect) spelled koechiap. (My dictionary agrees with the BOTUI spelling.)
Etymonline also adds that “catsup (earlier catchup) is a failed attempt at Anglicization, still in use in U.S.” (Catchup is another accepted alternate spelling.) And one added note from etymonline.com: the modern form of the sauce began to emerge when U.S. seamen added tomatoes.
According to Answers.com, it was in 1940 that “the U.S. government established a "Standard of Identity" for ketchup as tomato-based.” Prior to that time, it was common for ketchup to be made from things other than tomatoes, since "including bananas, beets, or mangoes.”
Just in time for summer cookouts, you now have freedom to add bananas or beets or mangoes to your ketchup. (Or for Independence day add blueberries and chunks of bananas for a “red, white and blue” ketchup. It’d make a great sauce for barbecued pork chops.)
What’s the difference between a sauce and a condiment? A condiment is “any seasoning or relish for food” (my dictionary says) and either spices, flavorings, or a sauce can be a condiment. A sauce is a liquid or soft dressing served with food. So a sauce can be a condiment, but condiments aren't necessarily sauces.
Condiment came into Middle English through the Old French which came from the Latin word condimentum, from the word for pickling, condire. It appeared in English in the early 15th century.
The word sauce took the same path to mid-14th century English, through Middle English and Old French (sause, sausse, or sauce), and the Latin word from which it came is the word for salted food: salsa, the plural form of the word salsus.
Let's follow salsus another direction: into Vulgar Latin as salsicia, then from there to Old French (saulcisse) then into Old Norman French (saussiche) then into the Middle English word sausige and you have something to put the ketchup onto…chopped meat with plenty of condiments mixed in: sausage, or sawsyge as it was spelled in about 1450.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Cutting Up
Let’s stay in the c section this week. I’m not talking about the method of delivery, I’m talking about the dictionary.
However, it might interest you to know a little about what is now commonly referred to as a c section. Its full name is Caesarian section, and its etymology is unknown. There are, according to Wikipedia, at least three options. But since this isn’t really our word for today I won’t get into them. You’ll have to look them up for yourself. Suffice it to say that the procedure has been known since Roman times, when there is a reference in some of Pliny the Elder’s writing to an ancestor of Julius Caesar being delivered by this method. The Latin word for cut is caesus, and may also provide the source for this description. But if that is the case, the phrase Caesarian section becomes redundant because the word section in this usage refers to the cut, too. (It is also redundant to refer to an ATM machine, since ATM means Automated Teller Machine.) Caesarian section came into English in 1615 and the procedure, which is the delivery of a baby by cutting through the mother’s abdomen, was fatal for the mother until 1500, the first recorded instance of a mother and baby surviving. As recently as 1865 in Great Britain and Ireland the mortality rate was 85% (again, thank you Wikipedia.)
Back to the original thought for the day. Other c words for today are conduce and conflate, both of which I’ve encountered numerous times in my reading of National Review.
Conduce means to tend or lead (to an effect) or to contribute (to a result). Conflate means to combine, and usually refers to the combining of two written texts. A conflation of the Gettysburg Address and the Preamble to the Constitution might conduce to a phrase such as “We the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union, of the people, by the people and for the people…”
Conduce came to English in about 1400 from the Latin word conducere, which is formed from the prefix con- meaning “together”, and ducere meaning “to lead” (we also get the title Duke from this Latin word through Old French duc in the 12th century; it came to mean a nobleman of high rank a couple of centuries later, replacing the Old English term earl).
What’s the difference between conduct and conduce? As is often the case, they come originally from the same Latin root word, but from different forms of the word. Conduct came from the past participle form of conducere, which is conductus. In the early 15th century they needed a word for “convey,” and adapted this word for that usage. Over time it changed meanings, taking on the sense of direct or manage in the 1630s and in about 1710 added the meaning of behaving in a certain way. It still has several meanings, only in the musical sense meaning “to lead together” and that’s different from conduce.
Conflate is from the Latin word conflare, which is the stem of a word that literally means “to blow together”, and is also used to mean kindle or light. It came into English in the 1540s.
However, it might interest you to know a little about what is now commonly referred to as a c section. Its full name is Caesarian section, and its etymology is unknown. There are, according to Wikipedia, at least three options. But since this isn’t really our word for today I won’t get into them. You’ll have to look them up for yourself. Suffice it to say that the procedure has been known since Roman times, when there is a reference in some of Pliny the Elder’s writing to an ancestor of Julius Caesar being delivered by this method. The Latin word for cut is caesus, and may also provide the source for this description. But if that is the case, the phrase Caesarian section becomes redundant because the word section in this usage refers to the cut, too. (It is also redundant to refer to an ATM machine, since ATM means Automated Teller Machine.) Caesarian section came into English in 1615 and the procedure, which is the delivery of a baby by cutting through the mother’s abdomen, was fatal for the mother until 1500, the first recorded instance of a mother and baby surviving. As recently as 1865 in Great Britain and Ireland the mortality rate was 85% (again, thank you Wikipedia.)
Back to the original thought for the day. Other c words for today are conduce and conflate, both of which I’ve encountered numerous times in my reading of National Review.
Conduce means to tend or lead (to an effect) or to contribute (to a result). Conflate means to combine, and usually refers to the combining of two written texts. A conflation of the Gettysburg Address and the Preamble to the Constitution might conduce to a phrase such as “We the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union, of the people, by the people and for the people…”
Conduce came to English in about 1400 from the Latin word conducere, which is formed from the prefix con- meaning “together”, and ducere meaning “to lead” (we also get the title Duke from this Latin word through Old French duc in the 12th century; it came to mean a nobleman of high rank a couple of centuries later, replacing the Old English term earl).
What’s the difference between conduct and conduce? As is often the case, they come originally from the same Latin root word, but from different forms of the word. Conduct came from the past participle form of conducere, which is conductus. In the early 15th century they needed a word for “convey,” and adapted this word for that usage. Over time it changed meanings, taking on the sense of direct or manage in the 1630s and in about 1710 added the meaning of behaving in a certain way. It still has several meanings, only in the musical sense meaning “to lead together” and that’s different from conduce.
Conflate is from the Latin word conflare, which is the stem of a word that literally means “to blow together”, and is also used to mean kindle or light. It came into English in the 1540s.
Monday, June 7, 2010
I'm Not So Sure
On Friday my wife and I were talking (it happens every so often) and I used the word certitude. She asked “Why certitude rather than certainty?” I tried to explain my understanding of the difference between the two words, but was uncertain enough to cause me to head to the dictionary and see. Lo, and behold, I found not only the answer but another one of those paragraphs in my dictionary that explain the subtle differences between words.
Here’s what the New World Dictionary of the American Language (Second College Edition) had to say:
Certainty suggests a firm, settled belief or positiveness in the truth of something; certitude is something distinguished from the preceding as implying an absence of objective proof, hence suggestion unsassailable blind faith; assurance suggests confidence, but not necessarily positiveness, usually in something that is yet to happen; conviction suggests a being convinced because of satisfactory reasons or proof and sometimes implies earlier doubt.
Certainty is a noun that came into Middle English as certainte (although etymonline.com spells it certeinte) from the Old French word certainete. (Etymonline.com says it further derived from the Latin or Vulgar Latin certanitatem.) In the 1300s it was spelled certeynte and originally referred to a pledge or surety. It took until the middle 1400s to add the meaning we have for it today.
Certitude is also a noun that came to Middle English and Old French from Low Latin, from the word certitudo. It arrived in the early 1400s, and etymonline.com adds that the Low Latin word comes from the Latin word certus.
Assurance also came from Old French, in the late 1400s. The Old French word was asseurance, and like certainty it originally was a pledge or promise. According to etymonline.com it had a negative connotation in the 18th century, with a suggestion of impudence or presumption. It is defined as “the state of being assured,” (don’t you love definitions that use another form of the same word?) “sureness, confidence, certainty.”
Conviction comes from the mid-1400s, from the Low Latin Ecclesiastical use of the word convictio, which meant proof or demonstration. It is defined as a strong belief. Originally meaning proof, it wasn’t until the 1690s that it developed the meaning of the mental state of being convinced, and (again according to etymonline.com) it was in 1841 that it first was used to mean a belief.
So what’s the shade of meaning difference? Certainty can provide proof of the belief; certitude doesn’t have the proof but is still sure of the belief. Assurance has more uncertainty, and is a little stronger than confidence or conviction. Conviction is a holding strongly to a belief in the absence of any proof, in my opinion.
At least, that’s my contention…
Here’s what the New World Dictionary of the American Language (Second College Edition) had to say:
Certainty suggests a firm, settled belief or positiveness in the truth of something; certitude is something distinguished from the preceding as implying an absence of objective proof, hence suggestion unsassailable blind faith; assurance suggests confidence, but not necessarily positiveness, usually in something that is yet to happen; conviction suggests a being convinced because of satisfactory reasons or proof and sometimes implies earlier doubt.
Certainty is a noun that came into Middle English as certainte (although etymonline.com spells it certeinte) from the Old French word certainete. (Etymonline.com says it further derived from the Latin or Vulgar Latin certanitatem.) In the 1300s it was spelled certeynte and originally referred to a pledge or surety. It took until the middle 1400s to add the meaning we have for it today.
Certitude is also a noun that came to Middle English and Old French from Low Latin, from the word certitudo. It arrived in the early 1400s, and etymonline.com adds that the Low Latin word comes from the Latin word certus.
Assurance also came from Old French, in the late 1400s. The Old French word was asseurance, and like certainty it originally was a pledge or promise. According to etymonline.com it had a negative connotation in the 18th century, with a suggestion of impudence or presumption. It is defined as “the state of being assured,” (don’t you love definitions that use another form of the same word?) “sureness, confidence, certainty.”
Conviction comes from the mid-1400s, from the Low Latin Ecclesiastical use of the word convictio, which meant proof or demonstration. It is defined as a strong belief. Originally meaning proof, it wasn’t until the 1690s that it developed the meaning of the mental state of being convinced, and (again according to etymonline.com) it was in 1841 that it first was used to mean a belief.
So what’s the shade of meaning difference? Certainty can provide proof of the belief; certitude doesn’t have the proof but is still sure of the belief. Assurance has more uncertainty, and is a little stronger than confidence or conviction. Conviction is a holding strongly to a belief in the absence of any proof, in my opinion.
At least, that’s my contention…
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Acronymble acroquick
Sometimes what begins as an acronym becomes a word, and several today come from a recently purchased (at a thrift store) book entitled “The Book of Totally Useless Information”, written by Don Voorhees (Barnes & Noble, NY, 1993). The words are posh, scuba and snafu. In keeping with today’s theme, I will henceforth refer to the book by its acronym, BOTUI.
Here’s what BOTUI says about posh:
Unfortunately, according to etymonline.com, while the first occurrence of posh is from 1918 and might have the origin that is included in the book, the word appeared before the story did. It was used as long ago as 1830 by thieves to refer to money, at that time referring to the half-penny and could have come to English from the Romanian word for half, which is posh. By 1890 it had become a synonym for “dandy”, and I would think the leap was small from the thieves’ word for money to application to those well-dressed targets of their thievery.
BOTUI also mentions scuba, which began as the acronym for self-contained underwater breathing apparatus in 1952, and snafu, which it says is “short for an old army saying.”
According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the word snafu came to English in 1941, as a U.S. military slang, another acronym - this one for situation normal, all f***ed up, and according to the OED the word is "conveying the common soldier's laconic acceptance of the disorder of war and the ineptitude of his superiors."
I love the British delicacy and stoic attitude conveyed so well by that description.
Here’s what BOTUI says about posh:
During the Victorian era, the British Empire was at its apex, with colonies all around the globe….
India was a popular destination for the wealthy British traveler. The only practical and luxurious way to get to India was aboard a cruise ship. The journey from London to Bombay or Calcutta was a long one. Ships had to follow the west coast of Africa down around the Cape of Good Hope and up the east coast of Africa toward India. Much of the trip was through hot, humid, tropical climates.
These ships may have been well-appointed, but the invention of air-conditioning
was far off, and the only cool air one might expect was from ocean breezes and fans. Cabins tended to be hot and stuffy, so opening the portholes was the only way to get ventilation. On the trip out, the portholes on the port side of the ship faced land, and on the trip home the portholes on the starboard side faced the land. Portholes facing land were considered more desirable for ventilation, shade, shelter from bad weather, and viewing purposes. British civil servants traveling to India on the Peninsular and Orient Steam Navigation Company line supposedly started this
trend in cabin reservations.
Thereafter, it became trendy for the wealthy to pay extra for the privilege of staying in portside cabins on the way out and starboard cabins on the trip home. The acronym P.O.S.H. (port out, starboard home) was stamped on their baggage and
eventually evolved into the word “posh,” which came to mean elegant or fashionable.
Unfortunately, according to etymonline.com, while the first occurrence of posh is from 1918 and might have the origin that is included in the book, the word appeared before the story did. It was used as long ago as 1830 by thieves to refer to money, at that time referring to the half-penny and could have come to English from the Romanian word for half, which is posh. By 1890 it had become a synonym for “dandy”, and I would think the leap was small from the thieves’ word for money to application to those well-dressed targets of their thievery.
BOTUI also mentions scuba, which began as the acronym for self-contained underwater breathing apparatus in 1952, and snafu, which it says is “short for an old army saying.”
According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the word snafu came to English in 1941, as a U.S. military slang, another acronym - this one for situation normal, all f***ed up, and according to the OED the word is "conveying the common soldier's laconic acceptance of the disorder of war and the ineptitude of his superiors."
I love the British delicacy and stoic attitude conveyed so well by that description.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)