 There are heaps of ways we refer to something being speedy or needing to be speedier. Here are a few:
-quick as a bunny -in three shakes of a lamb's tail (only two shakes in the UK) -quick as a wink -in the blink of an eye -in a flash -quick as lightning -get the lead out Here are some for which I could find source information: -fast track (1934 from horse racing) -pronto (1850) from Spanish &/or Italian from a word meaning prompt -breakneck (1560s) moving so fast one is likely to break one’ s neck -giddy up (1909) a mispronunciation of get up, also spelled gee-hup, gee-up & giddap. -flat-out — most likely from horse-racing when horse & jockey flatten out to decrease wind resistance -posthaste (1530s) with great speed - a request written on the envelopes of letters -lickety-split (1852) most likely based on lick - a speedy sprint while racing - also lickety-cut, lickety-click, & licketie — probably related to quick as a lick -faster than you can say "Jack Robinson" has numerous proposed sources, none of them confirmed, but all intriguing: -Jack Robinson was US Secretary of the Treasury in the late 1700s & was able to get things done speedily in Congress -another Jack Robinson was constable of the Tower of London, responsible for quickly successive beheadings -another Jack Robinson was an English gentleman well-known for speedy changes of opinion Have you got a favorite idiom regarding speediness, or did any of these sources surprise you? If so, please let me know in the comments section. Thanks to this week’s sources, Etymonline.com, the OED, Merriam-Webster, Answers.com, ,& Wordnik.com. Image from Grumpy Goat Tattoo..
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 So how is it that one little four-letter word can be used in all these ways?
Ramon was fast asleep. Irene’s car is fast. Selma broke her fast. Luigi held fast to Wanda’s hand. Agatha indulged in fast living. And how is the word shamefaced possibly related? It all started with the Proto-Indo-European word fasto, which meant firmly, strongly, very. This word made its way into Old English as faeste, which meant firmly, securely, strictly. When fasto made its way into Old Norse, it became fast, meaning firmly, strongly, vigorously. The speedy meaning of fast most likely came from the vigorous sense of fast in Old Norse, though it may have come from the idea of the second-place runner holding fast to the runner before him/her. During the 1700s, this meaning of fast gave birth to the idea of fast living. The meaning, withholding food, comes from an Old English word born of the hold firmly meaning. Someone who fasts shows firm control of him/herself. The hold tight meaning of fast grew from the firmly/securely meaning, as did the idea of being fast asleep. And shamefaced? This word was originally pronounced & spelled shamefast, reflecting the idea that one’s shame was stuck fast. Our modern word shamefaced came from a misunderstanding of the the original word. Any thoughts about all this fastness? Please leave them in the comments section. Thanks to this week’s sources, Etymonline.com, the OED, Merriam-Webster, & Wordnik.com.  In written Old English the word dream meant one thing and one thing only: make a joyful noise. Other written records suggest our modern meaning of dream may have been spoken by Old English speakers, but by the time Middle English ruled, the modern meaning of dream took a several-century snooze.
Along the way, the noun dream & its cognates picked up and then lost some intriguing meanings which include but aren’t limited to: -joy, pleasure, gladness, mirth, rejoicing -music -merriment -a cherished desire -deception, illusion, phantasm -a train of thoughts, images or fancies passing through the mind during sleep -a fancy voluntarily indulged in while awake -a state of abstraction or trance -a wild fancy or hope -a reverie And those are only the nouns. Dream’s verb forms deserve an entry of their own. If you've got two whole minutes, consider checking out the dreamy fingerstyle guitar work of the amazing Sungha Jung, playing his original song, Dreaming. So, which of the above meaning(s) would you like to infiltrate your dreams? Thanks to this week’s sources, etymonline.com, the OED, & carl-jung.net & wordnik.com.  Steep & stoop
It seems reasonable that these words might come from the same root: steep slope steep the tea steeple stoop down hang out on the stoop However, only three of them share a root. The verb steep (to soak in liquid) made its way into English in the early 1300s. Though nobody is certain of its source, it may have come from a Norse word meaning to pour. The noun stoop (raised platform at the front or back of a house or apartment), appeared in English in 1755 from a Dutch word meaning a flight of steps. The three words that share a source are the verb stoop, the adjective steep, & the noun steeple. They all come from a Proto-Indo-European word meaning to push or knock. A version of this root made its way into northern European languages meaning to bow or bend, & then into Old English as the verb stoop. Another form of this root came to mean high & lofty (possibly due to the idea that a mountain is pushed up from the surrounding soil). This form of the root found itself becoming both the adjective steep & the noun steeple. It nearly causes one to want to stoop to steep one’s tea on one’s stoop, then climb up to enjoy the tea atop a steep steeple, eh? Big thanks to this week’s sources: Etymonline, Wordnik, Merriam-Webster, & The OED.  All it takes is a brief glance through the newspaper to confirm that fiascos happen. So this week we’ll explore fiasco & some of its synonyms.
Fiasco appeared in English in 1855. It was theater talk for turkey, dismal flop, or failure. It comes through French from Italian word for bottle. Many theories exist to explain why we might call a flop on stage a bottle, but none of the theories can be proven. Today fiasco refers to any sort of failure, whether on-stage or off. Some fiascos in the news take the form of mayhem, a word that showed up in English in the 1400s through Anglo-French from an Old French legal term meaning to maim an opponent enough that he can no longer defend himself. And yes, this same Old French word also gave us the verb maim. We call a noisy commotion or uproar a hullabaloo. This word came through northern England &/or Scotland to land in English in the late 1700s. Though nobody’s certain, most etymologists believe hullabaloo may be a tweaking of the greeting, hello. A bustle, tumult or fuss can be referred to as a fracas, a word that showed up in English in 1727. It came through Italian from a Latin verb meaning to shake. In 1890 the word brouhaha (meaning an uproar or fuss) made its way into English from French. Though the connection is lost on me, most etymologists believe it may have come from the Hebrew phrase, “barukh habba,” which means blessed be the one who comes. From Scottish through Canadian English we have the word kerfuffle, meaning a commotion, or disturbance. Kerfuffle first appeared on the scene in the 1930s. And we have rumpus (1764) & ruckus (1890), both meaning an uproar or disturbance. Though nobody’s sure where either of these words originated, it appears ruckus grew out of rumpus. Which of these words best fits to news you read or saw today? Chime in by clicking on “comments” below. Big thanks to this week’s sources: Etymonline, Wordnik, Merriam-Webster, & The OED.  Though most of us haven’t heard the word pleonasm, we hear, read, & use pleonasms every day.
Check over this list. I bet you can define pleonasm on your own. frozen tundra foreign imports mass exodus kneel down hot water heater ATM machine break & enter empty space advance warning mental telepathy temper tantrum lag behind aid & abet fellow countrymen cameo appearance advance reservations past history nape of the neck serious crisis alternative choice future plans sum total So to finish up in pleonastic style, I’d like to thank each & every one of you for joining me here at Wordmonger this week. Big thanks to this week’s sources: Etymonline, 200 Common Redundancies & a Thought Company article regarding George Carlin’s commentary, “Count the Superfluous Redundant Pleonastic Tautologies”  Beat first showed up in Old English as a verb meaning to thrash or inflict blows on. It came from the Proto-Indo-European word meaning to strike or thrust. Linguists represent this word as *bhau-. *Bhau- is the source of a heap of modern English words. Here are a few: The verb butt appeared in English in about 1200, meaning to strike with the head. *Bhau- also gave us the noun bat, meaning a stick or club (obviously used to beat something). Bat has been with us since Old English. For the purpose of making sense of the next few etymologies, it’s important to note that the part of the bat one grips is typically narrow, while the business end of a bat is comparably thick. When butt first transitioned to a noun in English (1200-1300) it meant both thick end and flat fish (possibly - but not definitively - due to the need to tenderize the fish by beating it with a bat). We still see the meaning flatfish in the word halibut which appeared in the 1400s.The meaning human posterior (another thick end) also showed up in the 1400s, and by the 1600s the noun butt also meant the target of a joke. By the mid-1800s butt also meant the remaining end of a smoked cigarette. Both butt in & buttinski showed up about 1900. The word buttress (an element of a building that thrusts out from the primary structure) appeared in English in the 1300s. Since the 1300s we’ve been thrusting buttons through button-holes. And in argumentation, both the words rebut (1300s) & refute (1500s) mean to strike back & were born of the word *bhau-. Inspired to butt in with a comment? Please do. Big thanks to this week’s sources: Etymonline, Wordnik, Merriam-Webster, & The OED.  Word-lovers go to great lengths to help others make sense of this nutty language we love so well. The Elusive Scraperfish is one such effort. It’s not elusive because of its astounding camouflage or because it buries itself in the muck. It’s elusive because so many people don’t even know it’s there. Such is the nature of bottomdwellers that concern themselves with English pronunciation rules. Meet the scraperfish. It scrapes along on the bottom of the sea, looking for its tunnel-dwelling prey. As its belly scrapes along the ocean floor, it makes the sound kkkkkk, kkkkkkk, kkkkkk, signifying to those in the know that the letter C (masquerading as a gill), generally makes the K sound. However, when the scraperfish spots its tunnel-dwelling prey, it sucks up the prey, savors it, & says sssss, sssss, sssss.  The observant reader will notice the nature of the scraperfish’s prey. When the letter C is followed by an E, I, or Y, it makes the S sound (cellophane, cinnamon, cyborg…). Otherwise, it makes the K sound (coliform, curly, cadaver…). The scraperfish rule even works when a C is doubled, as in accident & accelerate. When a C is followed by the letter H, all bets are off, but in other cases, it’s amazing how consistently this pronunciation rule applies. What’s cooler still is that there’s a second form of scraperfish  Amazingly, it hunts the same exact prey, giving us gelatin, gin, & gymnasium in the presence of its prey, and gasoline, gogo boots, & guru otherwise. Sadly, this second fish’s rule doesn’t work when g doubles up. Also, some high profile words like begin & girl ignore our friend the scraperfish. Still, it applies the majority of the time.  Okay, so how many of you word nerds have already met the scraperfish? And who can contribute other unlikely tales to support English spelling or pronunciation rules? Please use the comments section to let me know.
 Alternative facts have been getting a lot of attention the last few years. It shouldn’t surprise us that the term alternative facts can be alternatively understood, since over time both words have had varied meanings.
The adjective alternative grew out of the Latin word alter, to change or make something different. Its origin is the Proto-Indo-European word *al-, which meant beyond. Alternative showed up in English in the 1580s, meaning offering one or the other of two. When used in rhetoric during the 1600s, alternative meant a proposition of two statements, the acceptance of one implying the rejection of the other. By 1970, alternative picked up the meaning purporting to be a superior choice to what is in general use. The noun fact came from the Medieval Latin word factum, which translates literally to thing done. As time passed, Medieval Latin became Latin, & factum came to mean event, occurrence, deed, or achievement. When it made its way to English as fact in the 1530s, it meant anything done, though in usage, the anything done to which the word fact referred was usually an evil deed. Well there's some alternative grist for the mill, eh? Anything to say about all this? Please leave a comment or two in the comments section. Big thanks to this week’s sources: Etymonline, Wordnik, Merriam-Webster, & The OED, & the image came from Vicki Shuck..  Once upon a time there was a word used to refer to oneself in the plural; sort of a we-meets-ourselves word. Today, etymologists write the word *s(w)e-. This Proto-Indo-European word gave birth to a fascinating and diverse collection of words that all relate back to the idea of we/ourselves.
The word self came to us through Proto-Germanic back when folks were speaking Old English. Some time during its stay in Germanic languages it appears to have lost its plural, inclusive nature. Another word from this source is secret, which appeared in English in the 1300s, through Latin words meaning private, set apart, withdrawn, or one one’s own. Sullen made its way to English through Anglo-French. Initially meaning by oneself, alone (in Middle English), sullen didn’t pick up the meaning morose until the late 1300s. The word swami appeared in English in the 1700s through Hindi. Swami, now meaning Hindu religious teacher, originally meant one’s own or our own master. Sibling came to us via Proto-Germanic and Old English. Linguists consider sibling an “enlargement” of the root *s(w)e. And though they appear nothing like their relatives, the words idiot & idiom also came from *s(w)e-. Born of the idea that folks who couldn’t function in society due to apparent lack of mental ability tended to stay to themselves, idiot came to English in the early 1300s through Latin & Old French. An idiom is a figure of speech peculiar to a particular group of people. Idiom came to English through Greek & Latin in the 1500s.The fact that we cling to our idioms as something that defines us appears to have contributed to the existence of this word All from a little word meaning we/ourselves. I’d love to know which of these word-siblings you found most surprising. Fee free to use the comments section for such commentary. Big thanks to this week’s sources: Etymonline, Wordnik, Merriam-Webster, & The OED. |
I write for teens, narrate audio books, bake bread, play music, and ponder the wonder of words in a foggy little town on California's central coast.
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