My favourite is In the Library: "English Novel taken from a Signed First Edition…Russian & Moroccan leather bindings, worn cloth and a hint of wood polish." I'm almost tempted…
A broadsheet newspaper that has succumbed to tabloid standards of journalism and integrity. Given The Plain Dealer's recent treatment of Cleveland music critic Donald Rosenberg, I'd be inclined to propose it as the latest candidate for broadloid status.
Judy Ryan is waiting to be defined in the Macquarie Dictionary. Ms Ryan is a focalologist, or tie collector, and the Tie Society of Australia has applied to have the word put in the dictionary. Focale is Latin for neck cloth, cravat and scarf.
Definitely singular. I wore a leotard to ballet class for 12 years (not the same leotard). If I ever wore leotards, plural, it was because it was extra cold or one the leotards was kind of see-through.
Selects set of facial features from inventory, and arranges features to form composite image of persons suspected of criminal activities based on descriptions obtained from victims and witnesses to crimes: Assembles and arranges outlines of features, such as head contours, noses, eyes, lips, chins, and hair lines and styles, to form composite image, according to information provided by witness or victim. Operates photocopy or similar machine to reproduce composite image. Draws moles, scars, and other identifying marks, using pens, pencils, and other artist's work aids, to retouch copy. Alters copy of composite image until witness or victim is satisfied that composite is best possible representation of suspect. Classifies and codes components of image, using established system, to help identify suspect. Searches, or helps witness or victim to search, police photograph records, using classification and coding system, to determine if existing photograph of suspect is available.
This is one of those wonderful words that sounds Italian but is really English.
The New Shorter Oxford gives the etymology as brag or braggart combined with the Italian augmenting suffix "-occio". First(?) used by Spenser as a proper name in Færie Queene (1590).
Australians invented these. No, not wooden wine barrels, but the nifty plastic "wineskin" in a box fitted with a tap. Useful for those occasions where you want a lot of wine and no one's especially concerned about the quality.
Oh yes, the ubiquitous Aussie cooler box. Although I believe the correct spelling is Esky. The real thing was invented by Malley's and is now made by Nylex, but, as with the bandaid, the name has been adopted for coolers generally.
colloquial noun: a remarkable or excellent person or thing (19th-century origins?):
"The doomed beauty Grace Kelly was also in Hitchcock's Dial M for Murder, which was a much lesser film, mainly because Hitch couldn't really open up its stage-play format beyond a certain point. But the score by Dimitri Tiomkin, a refugee from Russia, was a lulu."
"I think they might reconsider it given the fun and knowledge gained by the the logophiles and verbivores visiting sites like this one."
A nice example of pontification from everybody's (everybodie's? no…) favourite pompous old git. Notice the delightful way in which the writer assumes his readership to be, oh I don't know, about 50 years younger than he is, and the beautifully old-fashioned "for fun and profit" tone.
Not sure. My knowledge of tectonic plate movements is a bit hazy. Perhaps we only move westwards at night, and maybe this is why I often get my best work done after pumpkin hour.
Australian slang. One who dobs someone in by reporting their misdemeanour(s) to an authority – an especially heinous act if it gets one's friends into trouble. ("No one likes a dobber.") Think: to grass, to squeal, to finger.
Grr. Still awake. Ah well, will traipse off to bed with Anna Karenina – there's nothing like a Russian novel chock-full of patronymics for the full soporific effect.
Particularly effective in the phrase "pompous old git". Today's wordie link on twitter brought it to mind immediately! Par 5 just takes the cake. Give me the playful "superficiality" of wordies any day.
Mary Queen of Scots had frequent headaches, for which the only relief was a special citrus conserve. When she was ill she would call for it. Having lived in exile in France she had French ladies in waiting, and so these sweet girls would flutter about the palace calling to each other: Maria malade! Maria malade! Which soon become Mar'malade…
Try to find the recording by Frans Brüggen and the Orchestra of the 18th Century (on Glossa, a Spanish label, GCD921101). They're a period instrument orchestra (a lot of modern orchestras will substitute tuba for the ophicleide and it's not quite the same; also Brüggen's recording is really good!).
For nothing but solo ophicleide try: "Back From Oblivion" on the Australian label Melba (301111, available in the States and elsewhere, try arkivmusic.com). The player is Nick Byrne, a Sydney boy.
Here's one for you that Australian composer Peter Sculthorpe likes to use in his ensemble pieces: fuori di passo.
It translates "out of step", and he uses it, for example, in a piece called Mangrove where he wants the members of the cello section to play ever-so-slightly out of time with each other. Great effect. Actually extremely difficult for well-trained musicians to pull off!
Professional orchestral violinists often keep a second (cheap) bow to use when a composer calls for extended passages of col legno, because it's very bad for the bow! (And some of the good bows are made from beautiful, and now rare/endangered, species of wood.)
Didjeridu seems to be the favoured spelling for many indigenous performers.
The truly amazing William Barton is one such. (NB. He'll be touring in Italy with the Sydney Symphony Orchestra in September – worth catching if you're in that neck of the woods.)
Otherwise the more "anglo" spelling is the one for this page didgeridoo. Then there are variants, which tend to combine aspects of these two. (And yes, for languages that aren't traditionally written, and in a culture where there are a great many language groups, the matter of spelling is indeed moot.)
Incidentally, the true art of didjeridu playing lies not in the "blubbery sounds", as uselessness delightfully puts it, but in the circular breathing that is necessary to sustain a performance of more than a few seconds. I can't really do circular breathing (tried when I was a serious flutist) but I guess this isn't an issue, since I'm a girl.
Unkindly known in Victorian times as the chromatic bullock. Mendelssohn requires one in his overture and incidental music for A Midsummer Night's Dream. It does Bottom's braying beautifully.
Orchestra Planning and Administration System. A whiz-bang, super-duper, truly amazing database for planning concerts, managing artists, musicians, library records, etc. etc. Even better, in my mind, than Tessitura – or at least I'm more fond of it. Alternatively, perhaps it's just German for "grandfathers".
I've come across plethora's usage, also "I cacked myself", where the "laughing" part is understood.
There is also "cack-handed", which can mean left-handed, but mostly I hear it in the sense of clumsy or inept. Apparently it's British, but it certainly has some currency in Australia.
No, not an ad for pizzas. This is a large ad for a tabloid page in which the space is divided into four quadrants, each used to promote a different event under the banner of a single presenter.
Or, a whiz-bang, super-duper database, developed by the New York Metropolitan Opera House to manage ticketing, customer relations and philanthropic giving.
Oh that's very good. I used to love eating the skin off the custard. I would fight my sisters for it. Being the youngest I always seemed to get my way – and the custard skin.
This wouldn't surprise me. I used to play a set of variations, Engels Nachtegaeltje, by Jacob van Eyck. He was a Dutch recorder virtuoso, of noble birth but blind hence his musical profession. Famous for his work as a carillonneur but also paid an additional six silver pieces a year to play his flute (i.e. recorder) in the cemetery when people were strolling there. Or something like that. Anyhow, he was born at the end of the 16th century and died in 1657. He worked in Utrecht, though, not Bruges, but the bell-ringing tradition is strong in the Benelux region so a continuous post of four hundred years doesn't really surprise me.
Also an adverb, as in "to mouse goofy", which is where a right-handed person mouses with her left hand (but not necessarily switching the buttons, so a left-click is still a left-click).
I'll check it out. Alas, I don't have a television and the Olympic coverage here was not conducive to the gatecrashing of friends' homes for the purpose of watching an arcane sport. Sigh.
The frindley took up fencing when she was, well, too old. (All the best fencers begin at the age of six or so, like ballet I guess.)
And why? Mainly because she was suffering, in the professional environment, from a particularly obnoxious and petty boss. And so it seemed like the right time to pursue a long-held dream while enjoying general catharsis. She was also somewhat inspired by the Australian conductor, Simone Young, also a fencer, who once talked about how conducting and fencing both involve waving a stick, but with conducting you are trying to communicate intent, whereas with fencing you are trying to conceal intent. Very interesting thought. She had probably seen The Fencing Master on television as well, and had spent her childhood reading books like the Scarlet Pimpernel and other period romances. Oh, and the oft-quoted analogy of fencing being like chess speeded up probably had an influence too.
A postscript. Given her story, the frindley was especially amused by this site, which offers "fencing" as a corporate team-building exercise. (A "modern, collaborative experience" is their way of describing it.) Sounds dodgy to me.
Descending, reesetee, descending. The ascending pillagers are meant to be hampered by the clockwise orientation, while you, the worthy householder, are permitted to descend with sword a-flashing and a-slashing.
c_b: consider it moved, with more shocking revelations from the frindley past…
Frindley respectfully offers balestra as a preferred spelling. (This Italian word, with the one-l, means "crossbow" and there just can't not be a connection there.)
Well Nike have called their fencing shoe the "Ballestra", but as far as I can tell, all the reputable fencing websites spell it with the single "l". Indeed, one fencing forum discussing the Nike shoe correct the spelling and refer to it as the "Balestra".
But the clincher seems to reside in my Italian dictionary, where a "balestra" is defined as a crossbow, which really is an extremely apt way of thinking about this particular move.
Finally, though, in the process of pursuing spelling, I found this little video demonstrating a bal(l)estra. The commentary is kind of annoying (simplistic) and the demonstration not very inspiring, but it more or less conveys the idea.
Well bad, bad Wordies do all the good, good Wordies a wonderful service when they take the trouble to bring such beauties as these into the Wordie world. So thank you!
And I say this because I've just come home from a "Meet the Music" orchestral concert (attended for the most part, but not exclusively, by large numbers of high school student groups), in which Arabella Steinbacher played Korngold's Violin Concerto and from my eavesdropping this seems to have been the general consensus regarding the performance.
It's interesting that to this day nearly all spiral staircases are still built to ascend in a clockwise manner, thus allowing modern men and women to keep their sword arms free.
I find this appealing even though my prowess in fencing is strictly limited to the balestra, a move of which I'm especially fond.
It seems to me that commenting on profiles is the only reliable way of carrying on a specific conversation via Wordie, and that's because you receive a notification when someone comments on your profile, whereas you don't if they use word or list comments to "talk" to you. But it does mean that you only ever see one side of a conversation on any given profile. If a Wall-to-Wall type feature could be achieved without clutter or spoiling Wordie's simplicity then I'd be all for that.
But perhaps it's better as is. Conversations on profiles aren't terribly convenient to sustain and so we focus our attention on the things that really matter on this site!
When the French first landed on Australian soil they attempted (in a kind of early "ethnomusicology") to notate the songs and "war cries" of the Aborigines, including the famous cooee. I've seen the results, beautifully presented in music copperplate, with the words written in a sort of French phonology, e.g. "couille" for cooee. The Australian composer Peter Sculthorpe tells a funny story about perfecting his pronunciation for a presentation about all this to a French audience. The nice librarian at the embassy who was helping him failed to mention that "couilles" in fact means balls.
Since mobile wordie has recently received a plug, I have a feature suggestion for that.
At present in the mobile version we can add words to existing lists and we can follow the recent comments. But it's virtually not possible to add comments to new words (a huge minus for me, since I rarely add a word without wanting to say something about it right then and there). It's also virtually not possible to contribute to conversations via the mobile version.
I say "virtually not possible" because I did discover one day when my train was delayed that it is possible to go through a circuitous process that effectively brings up the regular version of the site onto my mobile screen, at which point I can do all the normal things, albeit in a pretty clumsy interface. Basically it involves clicking on a username (e.g. from a comment header), which takes you to that profile in the non-mobile version. From there you have access to searching and other functions. But it's pretty clunky. Indeed it's probably a bug - but please don't fix it before adding these features…
A troublemaker. According to Richard Tognetti, artistic director of the Australian Chamber Orchestra, ratbaggery is absolutely essential to the health of the performing arts. I'm inclined to agree. There should be more ratbaggery and more larrikins.
Incidentally, you won't hear this song in the recent Tim Burton movie version because he and Sondheim decided to cut the prologue chorus for various dramatic and cinematic reasons. I respect the decision, but I was still bitterly disappointed, because it is an amazing number, complete with melodic quotations of the dies irae chant.
I've only ever encountered manse used in the very specialised sense of a clergyman's residence, never as a variant for mansion. In many instances (but not all) a manse is a relatively modest affair, while a mansion is, of course, meant to be imposing.
That said, there is, in a particularly beautiful Federation suburb of Sydney, a manse that almost makes a girl want to (a) join the Uniting Church and (b) study for the ministry. Handsome, of a goodly size, characterful, lovely garden and not in the slightest bit pretentious.
aka bum bag. In Australia, one of the places where they are known as bum bags, it is not only a faux pas to wear one, but it is an even bigger faux pas to call it a fanny pack, since fanny is slang for female genitals.
In my neck of the woods, where tailgate parties are unknown, tailgating refers exclusively to a very rude and inconsiderate, not to mention dangerous, driving technique (actually "technique" is too generous a term), in which someone drives too close to the car in front, often in an attempt to intimidate. An expression of road rage in many instances.
Brilliant. For this I would be willing to break my cardinal fashion rule: if you are old enough to have worn it the first time ’round, give it a miss the second time ’round.
Which of course is something that actually happens in certain versions of Cinderella: the stepmother hacks off one of her daughters' heels in a vain attempt to make her fit the slipper. What's Greek for "ow"?
Years ago I learned something very useful from C.S.Lewis. (The Last Battle in the Narnia series, I think.)
In the book one character whispers to another while on a night-time reconnaissance: "Get down, thee better."
Lewis then explains that she says this not because she has a lisp but because she knows that the sibilants are the noisiest part of any whisper and the sound most likely to give you away if you're trying to go undetected.
And ever since I have always made a point of lithping when whithpering. Or at least avoiding words with sibilants in them.
Well we'll have to do something about that. After all, it's the kind of word that's probably even more useful in the 21st century than it would have been in the 18th. So if enough people start using it, and using it in print, it's only a matter of time… (as Andrew Clements makes evident in his delightful children's book Frindle).
A condition in which one is unable to type the word "pedantic" at a first attempt. In severe cases can spread to other words, so that, for example, "composition" comes out (perhaps appropriately) as "compostion".
Short for "hazardous chemicals", but it has always seemed to me that it could be a rather satisfying word in its own right: "hazchem". Has a vaguely Slavic or Yiddish flavour.
I should be doing this. I really should. But I don't want to look at the season brochure one more time. Sigh. Off I go. See if I can find any lingering flagships or sublime beauties or…
The first shelf of my library happens to be my "practical arts" shelf: The Australian Manual of Calligraphy; Edward Johnston's Writing & Illuminating & Lettering (Johnston belonged to the same crowd as William Morris and Eric Gill, and was responsible for the revival of hand lettering in the early 20th century); Your Penmanship, and Good Handwriting and How to Acquire It (two period pieces that my father bought in the 1950s - both quite beautiful and full of sensible advice); Jaxtheimer's How to Paint and Draw (another oldie, originally published in German in 1961). I find when it comes to "how to" books for the visual arts, anything published before I was born is almost always superior to the current crop of beautiful but insubstantial volumes. For a start, they assume the reader is serious and not out for instant gratification.
She lives! (Or rather, the 2009 season brochure is nearly put to bed, the worst part of the year's schedule is just about over, a fortnight's holiday has brought refreshment, the niblings' birthday presents have all been found, and frindley roams again.)
I made small ones once when I was living in the States and feeling homesick. They were 1.5" cubes and I put cointreau in the chocolate icing, so you could say they were on the sophisticated side. It was extremely difficult to find dessicated coconut in the local supermarkets, however. Could only find the flaked coconut, which is too coarse. Spent a good half an hour with a mezzaluna knife cutting the flakes into crumbs. At which point you understand why I only did it once and thereafter stuck to making pavlova.
How funny. I learnt about Library Thing via Wordie!
It's great. Especially for those series of reference books where I was forever finding myself at book sales unable to remember which volumes I owned and which ones were familiar simply ’cause I'd borrowed them from libraries. With Library Thing on my mobile phone – no more inadvertent duplication!
from the kitchen of an Anglo-Irish Australian, no Armenian within coo-ee...
A moist, spicy cake with a biscuit base (that’s “biscuit�? in Australian lingo, i.e. crisp and crumbly). Looks humble and unassuming. Look again, and it looks…gone.
To begin, remove one 4 oz stick of butter from the fridge and cut into 1/2 inch cubes (unless it’s a stinking hot day, in which case it’s perhaps best to live with cold butter, and why are you baking anyway?).
Grease and line an 8-inch springform cake tin.
Set oven to moderate (350° F).
INGREDIENTS
2 cups dark brown sugar (no lumps)
2 cups self-raising flour
4 oz butter, cubed
1 tspn bicarb soda
1 cup milk
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 tspn nutmeg
a few walnuts (or pecans), chopped
METHOD
Mix sugar, flour and butter together until texture is crumbly (like breadcrumbs). Resist temptation to use a machine for this as the results tend to be too homogenous, even sloppy – better to massage the butter cubes through the dry ingredients using your fingers. (Very therapeutic too.)
Press half the crumb mix into the base of the lined springform pan. Ensure that the layer is even, and not thicker at the sides.
Dissolve bicarb soda in milk. Add egg, nutmeg and nuts to remaining crumb mix with milk and soda solution. Pour over crumb mix layer in tin.
Bake in a moderate oven (350° F) for 60 minutes. Allow to stand 15 minutes before turning out.
NOTES
Shelf-life – It is a rarely known fact that this cake will go stale very quickly. However, for the single cook with serious will-power, the cake can be made to last four to five days if wrapped tightly in waxed or parchment paper and kept in an airtight container.
Spices – The unknowing always seem to think this cake has ginger in it (perhaps because of the textures involved and the overall spicy/brown sugar taste). It can be fun to add cinnamon and/or ginger to the nutmeg. But it would also be a convincing ginger-less ginger cake for emergencies!
This is excellent. And it is especially useful since (alas!) the front page only indicates how many times a word is listed rather than how many comments it has attracted. And it is the latter which is the true sign of an interesting conversation.
Well, thank you for the nice thought. The past month or so I've been doing the work of two people (quite literally) and it has caused me to neglect all my favourite past times. Perhaps I'll create an empty list: something like "I'm too busy to scratch myself, let alone think of cool words to list."
Very few people are genuinely tone deaf. Very few.
But there are a lot of people who've been told – usually as a child by some thoughtless and ignorant adult – that they are tone deaf. These are the kids who are told to mouth the words in choir and are generally discouraged from singing or otherwise participating in music making, and who are then deprived of great enjoyment often for the rest of their lives. What makes me really furious is when the adult in question has been a "music teacher".
The maiden part may be stretching things somewhat, but otherwise this is an apt description of me at present. (A maiden over is a cricket term, by the way.)
I just love the way the very sound of this word plays down in laconic Aussie fashion the seriousness of what it's describing. I've always associated it with an older generation - it's a word my parents, aunts and grandparents would have used but not my contemporaries. I think, however, it may be about to enjoy a comeback: saw today that a budget car insurance company has adopted it as a name: www.bingle.com.au. How endearing!
The Lion went once a-hunting along with the Fox, the Jackal, and the Wolf. They hunted and they hunted 'til at last they surprised a Stag, and soon took its life. Then came the question how the spoil should be divided. "Quarter me this Stag," roared the Lion; so the other animals skinned it and cut it into four parts. Then the Lion took his stand in front of the carcass and pronounced judgement: The first quarter is for me in my capacity as King of Beasts; the second is mine as arbiter; another share comes to me for my part in the chase; and as for the fourth quarter, well, as for that, I should like to see which of you will dare to lay a paw upon it."
"Humph," grumbled the Fox as he walked away with his tail between his legs; but he spoke in a low growl. "You may share the labours of the great, but you will not share the spoil."
A FOX entered into partnership with a Lion on the pretense of becoming his servant. Each undertook his proper duty in accordance with his own nature and powers. The Fox discovered and pointed out the prey; the Lion sprang on it and seized it. The Fox soon became jealous of the Lion carrying off the Lion’s share, and said that he would no longer find out the prey, but would capture it on his own account. The next day he attempted to snatch a lamb from the fold, but he himself fell prey to the huntsmen and hounds.
(Translated by George Fyler Townsend. Rendered into HTML on Wed Jun 10 17:25:21 1998, by Steve Thomas for The University of Adelaide Library Electronic Texts Collection.)
A WILD ASS and a Lion entered into an alliance so that they might capture the beasts of the forest with greater ease. The Lion agreed to assist the Wild Ass with his strength, while the Wild Ass gave the Lion the benefit of his greater speed. When they had taken as many beasts as their necessities required, the Lion undertook to distribute the prey, and for this purpose divided it into three shares. “I will take the first share,�? he said, “because I am King: and the second share, as a partner with you in the chase: and the third share (believe me) will be a source of great evil to you, unless you willingly resign it to me, and set off as fast as you can.�?
Joseph Bottum has found a new function for this word. An extract:
"Let's coin a term for this kind of poetic, extralogical accuracy. Let's call it agenbite. That's a word Michael of Northgate cobbled up for his 1340 Remorse of Conscience — or Agenbite of Inwit, as he actually titled the book. English would later settle on the French-born word "remorse" to carry the sense of the Latin re-mordere, "to bite again." But Michael didn't know that at the time, and so he simply translated the word's parts: again-bite or (in the muddle of early English spelling) agenbite.
"Anyway, these words that sound true need some kind of name. And since they do bite back on themselves, like a snake swallowing its tail, Michael's term will do as well as any other. Ethereal is an agenbite, isn't it? All ethereal and airy. Rapier, swashbuckler, erstwhile, obfuscate, spume — agenbites, every one. Reverberation reverberates, and jingle jingles. A friend insists that machination is a word that tells you all about its Machiavellian self, and surely sporadic is a clean agenbite, with something patchy and intermittent in the taste as you say it."
Click on Verbosity once you're there. You're matched with an anonymous online partner and take turns guessing secret words, chosen by the game, based on clues provided by the other partner.
Interesting. When I was a kid my drama teacher got us to do breathing exercises that involved saying "pippety peppety poppety" x number of times on a single breath.
I don't believe so. If you read him carefully, and the full context makes it clearer, he's effectively saying that being dressed is our natural state, and that it takes a verb (i.e. an action) to render us undressed and therefore naked. So I doubt he would have had much sympathy for "naturists", whom I understand consider nudity to be the natural state.
Asphalt is used in Australia, but not so much in connection with roads or highways - it's a surface I strongly associate with school playgrounds.
Tarmac, at least for this Aussie, is exclusively an aviation/airport term, referring to the runway, as in "we hit the tarmac at about 9.30". Oh, I can see, over on tarmac, that resetee has identified tarmac=runway as a British usage dating from 1919.
Think of it more like judging a wedding cake according to its icing, decoration and overall structure; then slicing it in order to judge the quality and taste of the actual fruitcake that's inside all that marzipan and fondant.
Hey bilby, what's the Aussie term for "petting zoo" - is it a "Friendship Farm" or some such thing where you can go ooh and ah over the piglets and lambs and so on?
A livestock competition in which the animal, usually a steer, is judged twice: once in the parade ground (on the hoof) and again, as a carcass, after slaughtering (on the hook).
Another view from the Antipodes. Sherbet always refers to the effervescent, usually lemon-flavoured, powdered confectionary (e.g. lemon sherbets, which enclose the sherbet in hard candy, mmm). A sorbet would be called a sorbet.
Pronunciation here is 'ʃɜb�?t (SHERbuht) i.e. with the unstressed schwa vowel in the second syllable, so the bets are off.
The word naked was originally a past participle; the naked man was the man who had undergone a process of naking, that is, of stripping or peeling (you used the verb of nuts and fruit). Time out of mind the naked man has seemed to our ancestors not the natural but the abnormal man; not the man who has abstained from dressing but the man who has been for some reason undressed.
Which is perhaps why it's better that the multi-tasking musician (say, the violinist directing from the concertmaster's chair) be referred to as "violin-director" rather than "violin/director".
Just in case you were mislead by the usage example on fossick, sook isn't always used harshly. It can also be used kindly and can even serve as a term of endearment, as in these examples taken from a list of NZ and Australian words:
sook: kindly description of someone who is being silly, or behaving like a softy or scaredy cat. As in:- "you're being a sook"... "just a big sook" and so on... More often than not the phrase is used as a term of endearment.
To this can be added the idea of teariness or being prone to crying, hence "sooky baby".
Almost exclusively Australian word of Cornish origin. I am told that sook - as in "Grow up, stop crying and don't be such a bloody sook" (or "sooky baby") is also of Cornish origin.
Now this one's interesting, because I made it up too. And it was some years ago now, my niblings are aged between 10 and 15. Then someone else I know made up the exact same word, quite independently of me; and now jruberto, and it appears dontcry. And even a quick fossick on the interwebs suggests that we are not alone. Not in the slightest.
Wiktionary cites examples dating back to 1989. Urban Dictionary gives it some cred. And the really cute thing: in 2004 a group of English schoolchildren lobbied to have the word admitted to the OED. (Shades of Andrew Clements's Frindle in that story.)
But that's a digression; my main point is that I don't think I've come across a word that is so consistently and independently invented by so many people. That says to me that there is a deeply compelling logic in the construction as well as a deeply compelling need for the word.
Actually no: French pianos (the Pleyels and Érards) as well as the early Viennese pianos had comparatively light actions, whereas the English Broadwoods were the heavy ones. But nowadays it's one-size-fits-all and every concert pianist wants a Steinway. (Not that these don't vary, but the differences in action are much more subtle than they were in the 18/19th centuries.) It's to do with the touring life: pianists don't have time to get to know a new piano action for every gig*, so the makers have made consistency and conformity a virtue.
*Krystian Zimerman's solution is to carry his own Steinway action around with him – just the keyboard and hammer mechanism, that is.
But back to the point: I think it's interesting that frappé in ballet suggests a sharp and precise striking action (e.g. of the foot against the floor in a battement frappé), but not necessarily a heavy action.
Reminds me of the english horn: neither English nor a horn.
Of course, it was wrong-headed to attempt to translate the original name (cor anglais) in the first place, since that's an example of Franglais, most likely meaning angled "horn".
It's a shame, though, that predictive text dictionaries couldn't be a bit more extensive. Although if they were I wouldn't encounter such amusing non-words as captaingog and volatus…
In my experience a good many tend to be names, e.g. N for Nellie.
And the use can often be selective, with not all letters given a phonetic helper, just the ones that need it most: F and S can often be confused, so they'll be identified in phone calls, similarly D and T, N and M and so on. But L, for example, is often left alone. Ditto E.
"…a macabre form of investment, popular in Europe and America in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, in which the amount you got back depended on how many of your fellow-investors you outlived."
Term coined by Alan Greenspan in a lecture on the importance of price stability and the Federal Reserve System for the American Enterprise Institute on 5 Dec 1996.
"How do we know when irrational exuberance has unduly escalated asset values, which then become subject to unexpected and prolonged contractions, as they have in Japan over the past decade? And how do we factor that into monetary policy?"
When used in reference to fabric it's usually pronounced pee-kay, and in fact the NSOED's preferred spelling for this sense is piqué. (But "pique" is allowed as an alternative.)
Ah, I think I see – this is related to my question on features about including square brackets as square brackets (instead of as a way of creating word links). Should I say sneaky or nifty?
Which means that one probably shouldn't need to use Cyrillic or other special characters at all, just the character entity numbers for the standard Latin alphabet…
That's what I've been doing too, and they certainly do the trick. But the geekette at heart is curious as to whether there is a neat technical solution.
My apologies. Too obscure. The MS predates the first recorded English nursery rhymes in the 17th century. De Kay therefore posits the following theory: Protestant Picard émigrés in London (prior to the Edict of Nantes in 1598) would surely have congregated in taverns, and...recited or even sung their native rames…Locals hearing the verses as French-accented English, might well have…learned them by heart and…made them their own. And as the French rhymes became a part of English oral tradition, they would have been forgotten in France, the usual fate of such ephemera.
Help please: If, in a comment, I want to put square brackets around a word or phrase – not to link to a word or phrase entry, but simply to use the brackets as punctuation, e.g. editorial aside, or because it's in the original source for a citation – how do I do that?
Oh yes, that happens to me too!! Annoying as all get-out, as you say.
I did once discover – perhaps in Word, or may it was at system level – a way to map Help to a different key. If I can find it again I will post the solution here.
It helps to read these lines aloud in the sonorous, measured classic style of the Comédie Française (or failing that, one's best attempt at a strong French accent), at which point they assume an overpowering air of nostalgia. In this respect the manuscript has similarities with the somewhat older Mots d'Heures: Gousses, Rames.
I know this is plant name noun, but I do think it's yearning, deep down in its little weedy heart, to adopt a useful function in the world as an adjective.
I'm proposing "fiery and furious", based in part on the etymology and in part on feelings a particular variety of pellitory (the Parietaria judaica aka asthma weed) arouses in me.
From the 1930s until the 1960s, the Australian Broadcasting Commission broadcast a daily children's show "The Argonauts". It was also a radio club: each member had a number and was allocated to a ship in Jason's fleet (the membership records are now lost). It was hugely popular and influenced a whole generation of Australians.
My contributions reveal two things: I don't actually follow sports; and, Aussie Rules is such an intrinsic part of Australian life that its presence can be felt everywhere, even in "the yarts".
This ballet, created for the Australian Ballet by Graeme Murphy in 1980 (with the late Kelvin Coe as its star) begins with young men playing Aussie Rules on stage. (The music is the third movement of Ravel's Piano Concerto in G, by the way – fantastic stuff!) Murphy had the male dancers of the company actually learn and train in the sport with one of the leading AFL coaches so they could be sufficiently convincing. Some of the pictures loading above are from Beyond Twelve.
Early play by David Williamson, which takes as its setting and theme the inner workings (and turmoil) of a VFL (now Australian Rules football) club. Has acquired classic status in Australian theatre.
"…from water carts made by a company established by John Furphy: J. Furphy & Sons of Shepparton, Victoria. Many Furphy water carts were used to take water to Australian Army personnel during World War I. The carts, with "J. Furphy & Sons" written on their tanks, became popular as gathering places where soldiers could exchange gossip, rumours and fanciful tales."
As in: "Madam Kafoops" (Australian, gently derogatory)
Usage: "Who do you think you are? Madam Kafoops?"
Might be said to a child who is expecting mum to wait on her hand and foot or who is being obnoxious and oozing "entitlement". I don't think I've ever heard it used of or to an adult, hence my qualification "gently".
Mulesing might be bad, but flystrike is a hundred times worse. The name is somewhat misleading: when I first encountered the term as a child, I imagined bothersome flies buzzing around a sheep's butt. But flystrike is when those flies lay eggs and those eggs hatch and maggots begin to invade and eat away at the sheep's necrotic nether regions. Truly disgusting, gives prolonged pain, and is ultimately fatal. So one can't blame farmers for trying something, although a kinder method than mulesing would be infinitely preferable and I'd support the measures to have the technique replaced.
On the other hand, it's also been argued that the breeding programs that have encouraged the wrinkliness in the Merino breed (more skin surface = more wool) has led to an increased risk of flystrike that other breeds don't face. And perhaps breeding for less wrinkliness needs to be a part of the long-term solution. With some breeds you can get by with crutching, which involves shaving wool from the vulnerable area under the tail, but not removing skin or making incisions.
Finally, the pictures that are currently loading above are puzzling: mulesing is banned on sheep over one year old and normally lambs are mulesed a few weeks after birth. The pictures show much older sheep and therefore a much more extensive operation.
Lolly bananas, as I call them, are usually about 5cm long, banana shaped (of course), and an opaque light yellow. They sometimes have a slightly powdery surface as if they've been lightly dusted with cornflour. They are what I'd call a fondant candy, with a texture that ranges from slightly chewy to crisp and crunchy, depending on the degree of freshness. (Some fans insist on them being fresh, others will eat only stale ones.) The flavour has nothing with bananas to do, but comes from an ester that every chemistry teacher gets you to make in high school (isopentyl acetate maybe?).
I rather like them, but do feel quite sick if allowed to consume a whole bag of the things.
I looked and looked when I was living in the States and never once found them, although I did once try something that was orange coloured and not banana shaped but which otherwise had the exact same texture and flavour. Can't remember what they were called.
You don't have to work around fundraising types for very long to become familiar with the phrase "Make the logo bigger". These creatives take the mickey out of the concept beautifully. In addition to the song, there is a cream that you can get, which, when rubbed on the inadequate logo, will make it bigger.
Now. Can I point everyone in the direction of the Berlin Philharmonic's latest online game: Cello Hero? (It's actually called Cello Challenge, but we know what they really mean.) It's here.
@arcadia: Happy to clarify. I wasn't suggesting that spent dairy stock are not slaughtered for meat (although it's pretty poor quality meat and won't make it into your supermarket as steaks – more likely used for pet food and cheap hamburger patties). I was just pointing that it's probably not the case that "Most of the meat eaten in this nation is that of spent dairy cows…"
In Australia the dairy population is just under 2 million animals and these animals live some years before being considered "spent"; the beef population is over 20 million animals in order to keep up with domestic and export demand.
The population stats and the nature of the two industries lead me to conclude that most of the meat eaten in Australia (and likely North America too) is coming from cattle raised for beef production.
A quick search of stats suggests that only around 15-17% of "cheap" meat categories is sourced from dairy herds. It also seems that the concern surrounding this is as much to do with hormone levels in dairy herds (and therefore what we are putting into our bodies) as it is to do with the cruelty of eating an animal that is no longer considered productive as a dairy cow.
I can speak only from local experience, but as a former student of agriculture in Australia I can say that there is a discrete beef industry here that is quite separate from the dairy industry. For a start, the breeds that yield the right physiognomy for one are not well-suited for the other. (Square-framed "meaty" Herefords and Angus, for example, versus the high-milk Friesians and high-butterfat Jerseys.) Most of the meat eaten here would come from specialist beef producers, not spent dairy stock. My suspicion is that this would be the same in other countries.
(This is not an argument for or against the raising of cattle for meat or for milk, just an observation about what happens in the industry and what it is that meat eaters are most likely eating.)
I never could stand lambs fry, although I was fond of ox tongue. But the very worst – and still the bane of my life owing to its ubiquity – is the humble tomato. Will not, cannot, eat an uncooked tomato.
Wikipedia cites it as a mondegreen sung by the main character in the Australian mockumentary Kenny (2006). Kenny also has such fascinating sayings as: "This is the busiest time of year, this is a crazy time, it just goes bonkers. It's as silly as a bum full of smarties".
A leaping dance, typically done by men. Apparently, though, Queen Elizabeth I would dance one every morning in her nightgown as a form of exercise. (She also, as a model for her people, took a bath every six months whether she needed it or not.)
I'm just old enough to have learned the un-PC original version of the Australian anthem. And to have sung God Save the Queen as well as the national anthem. (God Save the Queen was phased out when I was infants school, I think).
By the way, if not sung at dirge-like pace, the tune for God Save the Queen (My country ’tis of thee) reveals its origins as a sprightly Elizabethan galliard.
Goes with guesstimate and other fun constructions that have more truth in them than the real word. (Try making your way from one side of a function room to the other… "exsqueeze me" is pretty much what you have to do.) That said, "guesstimate" seems to have acquired real word status, with dictionary definitions and everything. So not quite the same thing. Perhaps it's only a matter of time for exsqueeze.
Mark Twain in his Samuel Clemens hat had something to say on this subject, being an advocate for sha'n't and possibly ai'n't (or something similar, it was a long time ago that I read it).
As a road sign: I first encountered this in the States and I was used to the Australian equivalent, Give Way. "Yield" seemed terribly mediæval to my ears.
But you are reading, or you wouldn't have your eye on these words. Well, as you've disobeyed the above instruction and have read this far, you may as well know that the only "catch" in all this is that you're not going to get anywhere. You're reading about nothing. Nothing is going to be said, and you're silly to go on reading. So why go on?
Well, why go on? Why persist in continuing to read when you've been warned that it's getting you nowhere? Stop. Now.
Do you call this stopping, letting your eyes sneak down to see what this next paragraph contains? You can rest assured that it contains nothing of greater importance than the paragraphs above. Utter drivel, save for that one eminently sensible note: Stop reading.
You're not starting another paragraph? You're incorrigible. Look, this whole piece, from that line above to the bottom of the page, is about nothing. Can't you understand that? Nothing.
See if you can't understand it better this way: Yammer, yammer, yammer, yammer, yammer, yammer, yammer, yammer. Does that make sense? Well, it makes as much sense as everything else you're going to read till you finish this page.
Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of the party. The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog's back. It's pointless, continuing to tell you of the folly of going on if you won't stop. Sheer gibberish will serve just as well. Ukly muckly. Abra kadabra. Eeny meeny miny mo.
Well, this is the last paragraph, and you must have realised by now that there will be nothing in it worth reading. Are you a man or a mouse? You've got nothing to lose by breaking off right here and now. Nothing to lose and everything to gain. Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing. Yet here you are right at the finish, having got yourself precisely nowhere.
This was above all my favourite moment in the Cole's Funny Picture Book No.3 (page 74). A real period piece; simply had to share it.
I mean, I had always wondered about the ostriches – they're not native to Australia after all – but I simply concluded that emus wouldn't have scanned so well.
Oh, and I think nowadays we're meant to sing "Australians all…"
Other composers who were or were possibly synæsthesic: Olivier Messiaen, Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov (Mr Flight-of-the-Bumble-Bee), Alexander Scriabin (who included a "colour organ" in one of his pieces), György Ligeti, Jean Sibelius
Edwardian trend: "The general impression given was of an enormous one piece bosom, referred to as a monobosom. Because the bust was largely unsupported, ladies began to wear various styles of bust bodices and added other extra padding, even handkerchiefs, to increase the frontage which hung low over the waist."
That's true, had forgotten. Then there's the conclusion of Poulenc's Dialogues of the Carmelites: less spectacular but creepier, with those thuds from the guillotine at intervals. Ugh.
Incidentally, Dialogues… is one of the few operas that begins in one language (French) and ends in another (Latin).
(Letting the truth get in the way of a good story…)
This line comes from a popular apocryphal anecdote, first aired by Franz Xaver Niemetschek (among other things the first person to write a full biography of Mozart) in 1798:
JOSEPH II: Too beautiful for our ears, dear Mozart, and monstrous many notes!
MOZART: Exactly as many as are necessary, Your Majesty.
In brief, while this fits the posthumous myth of M as free artist on the outside of the Viennese establishment, ruled only by innate genius, it's historically implausible. It doesn’t fit Mozart’s anxiousness to please the Viennese, or with the musical concessions and cuts that he made or sanctioned in the opera.
But the anecdote thrived on "the inability of many of the initial listeners to grasp the music’s psychological involvement in nearly everything that matters in the drama." The ‘true subject’ of the conversation – if in fact it occurred in any form – might well have been M’s accompaniments, which were perceived as "overwrought, distracting and difficult to absorb".
(Source: Thomas Bauman in the Cambridge Opera Handbook for The Abduction from the Seraglio)
It is one of the most musical films ever made. Stunning. And poignant. Some say the film is better than the play. I love both but for very different reasons. The play conveys more of the spirit of artifice of Classical (as in 18th-century) music and the character of its dramatic devices. The film (shot in Prague I believe) is beautifully made and wonderfully acted and the soundtrack is stunning.
As a study of envy and despair in the face of seemingly undeserving God-given genius it's unparalleled. Of course, Peter Shaffer owed a great deal to Pushkin's Mozart and Salieri written in 1831, and that's worth seeking out too. Although Salieri really did go through a brief illness towards the end of his life during which he claimed to have murdered Mozart, he later denied this and no one had believed him at the time anyway. But it was Pushkin's "little tragedy" that really stimulated the legend of Salieri killing Mozart through jealousy.
"And when you feel the dreadful bite your failures – and hear the taunting of unachievable, uncaring God – I will whisper my name to you: 'Salieri: Patron Saint of Mediocrities!' And in the depth of your downcastness you can pray to me. And I will forgive you. Vi saluto."
and the final line: "Mediocrities everywhere – now and to come – I absolve you all. Amen!"
Which of you isn't more at home with his hairdresser than Hercules? Or Horatius? Or your stupid Danaius, come to that! Or mine - mine! - Idomeneo, King of Crete! All those anguished antiques! They're all bores! Bores, bores, bores! Jumps on to a chair… All serious operas written this century are boring!
Mozart wants to set his opera The Marriage of Figaro in a boudoir:
"Because I want to do a piece about real people, Baron! And I want to set it in a real place! A boudoir! – because that to me is the most exciting place on earth! Underclothes on the floor! Sheets still warm from a woman's body! Even a pisspot brimming under the bed!"
SALIERI: I have been listening to the cats in the courtyard. They are all singing Rossini. It is obvious that cats have declined as badly as composers. Domenico Scarlatti owned one which would actually stroll across the keyboard and pick out passable subjects for fugue. But that was a Spanish cat of the Enlightenment. It appreciated counterpoint. Nowadays all cats appreciate are High Cs. Like the rest of the public.
Joannes Chrysostumus – Mozart's saint's name at baptism. His birthday, 27 January, was also the feast day of St. John Chrysostom. This means that his birthday and saint's day (or "name day") coincided.
In Austria at this time one's name day was by far the more important, especially since many weren't entirely sure what their exact birthday was, but everybody had a saint's name.
"It seemed to me I had heard a voice of God – and that it issued from a creature whose own voice I had also heard – and it was the voice of an obscene child!"
Shaffer's moment of genius, capturing in words the effect of the magical opening of the Adagio from the Gran Partita (K.361).
"It started simple enough: just a pulse in the lowest registers - bassoons and basset horns - like a rusty squeezebox. It would have been comic except for the slowness, which gave it instead a sort of serenity. And then suddenly, high above it, sounded a single note on the oboe. We hear it It hung there unwavering – piercing me through – till breath could hold it no longer, and a clarinet withdrew it out of me, and sweetened it into a phrase of such delight it had me trembling. The light flickered in the room. My eyes clouded! The squeezebox groaned louder, and over it the higher instruments wailed and warbled, throwing lines of sound around me…"
The honour of first word on my Amadeus list goes to my favourite characters: the "Venticelli" (little winds), part gossips, part chorus - seen only in the play, since they are a very "stagey" creation.
Mumager has the nice added connotation of rummager – how many times do you see the mother rummaging around in the bottom of capacious bag with one hand while trying to keep kiddie in line with the other?
Idiom: "eke out a living", frequently misused to mean making a pretty poor living overall doing something that's badly paid, when in fact it refers to the making up of deficiencies. Merriam-Webster's example: "He eked out his income by getting a second job."
"Come and see" – the equivalent of a fascinator for the ankles. Involved attaching emeralds to the back seam of one's shoes. (I've also heard of it in relation to stockings, in which case the emeralds are sewn to the back seam near the ankle.) Very fashionable in 18th-century France.
My guess is it comes from channel surfing. Is this dumb for the same instinctive reasons (the terminology, that is, the act isn't under discussion)? Or is it only net surfing that is bothersome?
The Merry Widow (operetta) was so wildly popular that the name was given to a whole bunch of things. In addition to the undies and the chapeau, there were Merry Widow chocolates, shoes and cigars – all unauthorised apparently. There was even a Merry Widow cocktail: 1 1/2 oz. each of Gin & Sweet Vermouth, with a dash each of Pernod & Bitters, served strained over ice and garnished with a lemon twist.
Merchandise clearly isn't a new concept in the performing arts.
The pom-pom is not deemed essential, although it greatly adds character.
My theory is that the pom-pom is more common in slightly less cold countries, but in countries where some kind of hooded jacket is required as well the pom-pom becomes much less common. My favourite beanie with its luxurious pom-pom became impossible to wear in an Ohio winter, for example. Ironically, I'd bought it in Canada.
Now that was one scary story. Not so much because of the trauma of being trapped in a lift/elevator but the extent to which it changed the guy's life through the unwise decisions he made afterwards.
Interesting. I must confess I took wikipedia as my democratic guide to preferred spelling on that one, but it seems others have been there before us, e.g. "Duncan" who reports:
So when I was preparing my previous post on an anti-Catholic sculpture, I encountered the eternal spelling conflict…
So I fire up the spell checker called Google. I Google mitre and get about 767,000 hits. I Google miter and get about 415,000 hits. I Google "bishop's mitre" and get about 1,560 hits. I Google "bishop's miter" and get about 741 hits.
The American Heritage dictionary (which I use for my modern dictionary) has the usual weasel words about mitre "Chiefly British -- Variant of miter." But then its entomology entry says:
Middle English mitre, from Old French, from Medieval Latin, from Latin mitra, headdress of the Jewish high priest, from Greek.]
This suggests that mitre is closer to the word origin.
The online Catholic Encyclopedia prefers mitre. The OED likes mitre as well. So I guess it's mitre for me.
You won't believe this: two nights ago a friend was playing me an old LP recording of this speech! (Not Emmet, of course, but the Irish actor Michael MacLiammoir.) It was amazing – such rhetorical craft. The delivery was pretty exquisite too. (The speech is about 15 minutes in the recording.)
Ok, I'm taking a liberty here, the actual website for this "temple of enthusiasm" is www.deus.com.au. But the sign that I pass on Parramatta Road cleverly runs the words together.
I wish that were the case for some of my neighbouring departments. In one area in particular we have had an extended case of people coming only to leave again in two months. Not helpful.
Sydney has an inner-city suburb called Glebe. In Hobart there's an area of the city (not sure if it's strictly a suburb) that's still known as The Glebe. Presumably both were actual parish glebes at some point.
Name not my nemesis! That particular tennis player was the bane of my existence from kindergarten until third class.
I had quite forgotten about her nickname, which seems to have been completely taken over by the city, with such elegant coinings as the "Sydney to the Gong" charity bike ride.
Australian independent news site: "Crikey aims to bring its readers the inside word on what's really going on…".
It's quite an interesting site, but mainly I'm fond of the word – it makes the perfect polite exclamation and I believe I am responsible for a tiny band of adherents now using it in NE Ohio!
Oh, I agree! I loathe the use of this word to indicate a single pair of pants. I see it in fashion journalism and retail: jacket $200, blouse $100, pant $150. But don't we all put our "pants" on in the morning, not our "pant"? (Pace dress and skirt wearers.)
I'm also reminded that there are other similar constructions in English, where the portion of the original word chosen for creation of a new word is the "wrong" bit for the intended meaning. Why can I not think of any examples? If I could I would be able to make a list.
Thank you mollusque! In my line of work where we get more than a few European names, it's really helpful to be able to label these special letters and symbols. (As in, "Don't forget to put the bolle in Håkan Hardenberger and the hacek in Dvořák.") Those two had been bothering me.
"What's happening to your tea is happening to everything everywhere. The sun and the stars. It'll take a while but we're all going to end up at room temperature."
Plotting accumulated effort (or accumulated frustration or pterodactyl's stress levels) would certainly yield a graph where the difficult task has the steepest curve. But does it then cease to be a learning curve? – given that "learning" is meant to be about the accumulation of expertise rather than the accumulation of ulcers.
Oh, that word processing program isn't unknown, it's called Word 2007, and whoever invented the ribbon and created all those ghastly undeletable built-in style sheets should be tackled with a bludgeon.
At 8 a.m. on April 22, 1884, Thomas Stevens pedaled out of San Francisco on a 50-inch penny-farthing bicycle. Four months and 3,700 miles later, he arrived in Boston.
That was just the start. The following April he boarded a steamer for Liverpool, cycled across Europe and through Turkey to Calcutta, sailed to Hong Kong, and cycled across Japan, arriving at Yokohama on Dec. 17, 1886.
Even allowing for the steamship passages, he estimates that he actually pedaled about 13,500 miles — and became the first person to "circumbicycle" the globe.
But does pejorative use of quaint actually require a change of meaning (strange, old-fashioned)?
The difference, as mollusque suggested re droll, is whether you like/approve of quaintness or not, and it emerges in tone of voice and context without implying a new meaning.
"While we were away we saw this quaint little cottage! It was so cute, I wanted to bring it home and put it in my garden and hire a hermit."
vs
"How quaint." Spoken with disdainful air and curled lip.
Whereas the usage pterodactyl cites for "droll" really does require the speaker to mean the opposite of the word itself.
The images don't do it justice: the foliage of this plant is a beautiful cool silvery pale green. Better still, the leaves are soft and furry to touch. As a fashion colour I would apply "lambs ear" to velvet!
I may be misinterpreting: effort over time still gives me a steeper curve for the easier option.
Knowing me I'll be spending sleepless nights trying to think of a variable that, when plotted over time, will yield a steeper curve for the more difficult option. There must be something!
In my experience "droll" still means humorous or amusing. It's sometimes the case that the word is applied with a condescending tone, as if the speaker is acknowledging the humour but doesn't quite want to admit to finding it funny. (This, I think, is very different from using the word to mean boring, stupid or humourless.)
But mostly I hear it used (when I hear it used) to acknowledge what the Shorter OED calls dry, whimsical humour, odd or unexpected. And in that context it is perhaps the greatest compliment to describe such humour as "droll" rather than the more mundane and less accurate "funny".
I really don't recall hearing/reading the usage that pterodactyl describes. Perhaps I should get out more
Schopfling, fem. n., Germanical madeupical for use in English, a shopping spree
Backstory: OCR software back in the 90s, having trouble with the odd German title such as Die Schöpfung (aka The Creation, a big choral work by Haydn). This comes out as "Die Schopfling", which lodges in my mind as the perfect name for a retail therapyoratorio should I ever get around to writing one. Well, I never did, but "Schopfling" has become my preferred term for any generally entertaining (as opposed to routine and chore-like) shopping expedition.
Usage: "It's Thursday night, let's go on a Schopfling." OR "I need a new wardrobe, I feel an Ikea Schopfling coming on."
But in summary: it does seem that all of us are agreed that:
(a) in daily use, "steep learning curve" suggests difficulty; and
(b) that this is because we hear the word steep and associate it with physical gradients and therefore challenges and difficulty.
It is a natural shift of meaning that has occurred because the proportion of cognitive psychologists in the language-using population is relatively low.
What I have learned today is that the man responsible for all this (Hermann Ebbinghaus) also developed a forgetting curve. Shall we head over there for more fun?
If time is reintroduced to the databases example, it still demonstrates that one should avoid Microsoft at all costs, because at that crucial point 1 week into the learning process, expertise is considerably lower for Access than for Filemaker. That wouldn't be possible unless Filemaker had the steeper learning curve.
mollusque's example is interesting. The initial stipulation that "You have to pick one, and learn enough to be productive within a week" effectively takes time out of the equation (and therefore the graph), because both things (in the example Filemaker and Access) are to be assessed within a common time frame and the assumption is equal learning time available to be devoted to each option.
The two axes for mollusque's curve are, therefore:
X - knowledge needed (it could be argued this equates with effort expended) ranging from none to a lot; and
Y - ability to be basically productive with the tool in the specified time frame (so not necessarily final expertise) ranging from not ready to good-enough-to-go.
frindley doesn't like to brag about being female, for she is convinced that this is behind her rapid surmounting of all the steep learning curves she has ever come across. As for her occasional struggles with the flat ones? – a measly trajectory can always be blamed on someone or something else!
Peter Høeg's neatly accurate characterisation of bariolage in the same novel had me impressed. This is less clear. If he is saying that "all the sounds he heard" were coming together to create an ostinato according to musical definition then that makes sense.
But if (and this is how I interpreted it on first read) he is using "ostinato" to extend the idea of women's voices acquiring gravity after having children, then it makes no sense at all. Unless he is being wicked and making a subtle reference to the fact that women with children are more likely to have to repeat the same small things over and over, i.e. ostinato = nagging.
Known in common parlance as double stopping (when you're playing on two strings at once), triple stopping and so on. But given the curve of the bridge, quadruple stopping isn't strictly possible unless one is using Emil Telmanyi's Bach bow, a very strange thing indeed.
Great word! I plan to test all my violin playing friends and see how many have actually heard or used it!
(STBs) As contrasted with subscribers or RSTBs (repeat single ticket buyers). Segmentation terminology used in describing the purchasing habits of performing arts audiences.
Sorry sarra, should have explained. Here's a usage example from a job ad:
"The ideal candidate will have marketing experience and a knowledge of symphony product."
And another, made up but not atypical, verbal example:
"We need to make sure our marketing is positioning symphony product in a way that will appeal to STBs (single ticket buyers) as well as subscribers."
What seems to be wanted in the first instance is knowledge of orchestral (or symphonic) repertoire and classical music artists.
And in the second instance it's just a bizarre way of referring to live orchestral concerts.
In both cases it's an attempt to force a performing art form into the jargon of the marketing profession, perhaps in an attempt to appeal to other marketers (but not necessarily music lovers). It makes me cringe and I rail against its use, with some success. ;-)
It is wonderfully cathartic and pleasurable, therefore, to observe fellow Wordies simply take the phrase and have fun with it in their own way!
In the above example the X axis is reps rather than time, but since repetition occurs over time, it's the same thing. The Y axis is defined as expertise, what I would call progress.
Of course, the common misconception is natural enough, because we're inclined to associate steepness with difficulty.
I intensely dislike the pluralisation of "music" – a habit most commonly found in academia. So it is with some amusement that I contemplate the last two of the definitions above, both of which refer to punishment.
When I get my library (completely lined with floor to ceiling bookshelves, even over the door and windows, and provided with one of those nifty sliding library ladders) I would like an orangery to go with it.
It simply doesn't exist, not even in the Antipodes. Sydney has the prettiest concert hall but Perth's sounds the best; Melbourne and Sydney's orchestras rival each other, as do their universities and their theatre companies; Sydney's harbour wins hands down, while Hobart has one of the best stationery shops, as well as (I nearly forgot) a royal tennis court!!!!
Counterintuitive it may seem, but the steep learning curve – assuming that the curve is agreed to be a graph of progress (Y axis) and time (X axis) – means that the thing has been very easy to learn indeed, as progress occurs rapidly.
However common usage implies that a steep learning curve represents difficulty and great challenges. The only way this would be possible is if time were plotted on the (Y axis), which would go against all graphing conventions.
Ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh – for soooo many reasons. People who seriously adopt this term clearly don't actually like orchestral music or feel any connection with it.
Kubrick used the beginning of Strauss's Thus Spake Zarathustra in his 2001 – A Space Odyssey. In doing so he demonstrated excellent judgement, because that opening minute or so is by far the strongest part of the piece. Kubrick further confirmed his good taste by launching into the Blue Danube, by the other Strauss.
Which reminds me of the unkind quip: If Richard then Wagner, if Strauss then Johann. Forget who said that, but it must have really irked RS.
In Australia hundreds and thousands are small (1 to 2mm in diameter), spherical, and coloured (e.g. red, blue, yellow, orange, pink, green...), but not metallic.
Sprinkles is a close equivalent, but not exact, because it appears from Google Images that "sprinkles" can also refer to the cylindrical (vermicelli) variation (about 1mm diameter, 2 to 3mm long). In Australia those would be called dollars and cents. Or at least they were when I was a kid.
'Surely that backward plural construction requires a noun-adjective sequence in the original phrase (e.g. governors general)?' asks frindley with unnecessary earnestness.
Or so the graffiti claimed. Clearly toilet graffiti artists are not above carrying out intricate musicological research in the spirit of truth and revelation.
Then some wag came along and wrote "so does mine" underneath.
Never, but never, have a file called "Miscellaneous".
This principle was taught to me by a New England Patriots fan who also managed to bring me ’round to the idea that gridiron isn't necessarily the silliest game in the world.
I was introduced to this wonderful word by a colleague in Cleveland. Alcohol, of course, is not the only thing that broods away – brewing, bubbling and generally fermenting. Ideas do that too. And so, like my colleague, I now have an email folder called Zymurgy and a computer file folder called Zymurgy. Sure beats "Miscellaneous". Better still, it always sits neatly at the bottom of any alphabetically sorted list!
Ah. So are you saying that if I'd put food in the doggie bag instead of the candles and the napkin holders I might have found it all the more appetising the next day?
See, I would want the impossible: the wide open spaces and harsh beauty of the outback, but within cooee of an excellent concert hall, a fine orchestra, several theatre companies and at least two dance companies, with an art museum, a natural history museum, a university with lots of nice neo-Gothic sandstone, a glittering harbour and a really impressive stationery store. I could give the opera company a miss, I guess.
Well, I guess serving size helps justify a certain price point or gives the impression of better value or something. I wouldn't have minded so much, except I could never face eating the contents of the doggie bag the next day, so it really was a waste. Whereas some of my friends had the two-meals-for-the-price-of-one thing down to a fine art.
Actually, this shouldn't have the conjunction up front. It shouldn't have a conjunction anywhere. See that's what zarathustra said and curse my carelessness.
Not clear where this phrase is going, but to follow the thread of conversation: Australians are indeed enjoying an aspirational spate of obesity it would seem. But in my experience it is still possible to go to most restaurants here and receive a normal-sized serving that can more or less be finished by the diner while he or she is there. When in the States I was appalled by the amount of food that was wasted because I could rarely finish more than half of what was served to me.
Yes, she was safe while she stuck with The Dying Swan (music, Saint-Saëns) but when she began dancing The Dying Kiwi (music, Douglas Lilburn) it was all over!
A wonderful, richly endowed slang word. It has various useful meanings in Britain, but Down Under it is almost exclusively called upon as an adjective meaning: 1. exhibitionistic; flashy. 2. vulgar. (Macquarie Dictionary)
frindley to new American friend: "Do you remember a few years back when Apple came out with computers in a whole bunch of lairy colours?"
American friend: "What does lairy mean?" (and after explanation) "Ah, so my husband wears lairy pants!"
In Australian lingo "galah" is also often adopted as a mock pronunciation for gala, which we would otherwise pronounce GAH-luh. (We never say GAY-luh.)
Much in the same way that nothing offered in American "Outback" restaurants even vaguely resembles Australian food. For example, the dessert menu (even in their two Australian restaurants, now there's a daft move) includes pecan brownie and New York cheesecake as well as a cinnamon, apple and pecan ice cream thing. When everyone knows that Australians eat pavlova for pudding!
skelf (courtesy OED WOTD): A sliver or splinter, usu. of wood, esp. one lodged in the skin.
To be honest, I would have called that a splinter, although I see some point in it being a splinter that has lodged in the skin, as opposed to a free-range or recently removed splinter.
Trivet: your onyx experience reminds me of my attempts to swot up on pop culture when I was about 11 or 12 (I thought having friends would be fun, and classical music nerd that I was, this was my strategy). True to form, I read a lot; I also listened to the right radio stations. But all this was done alone and not all the connections were made. Hence I came away concluding that there was a band called "In Excess" and another band called INXS (which I pronounced "inks"). Just how I managed to avoid wholesale humiliation, I don't know. Must have realised in the nick of time!
That's quite possible; it's years since my dad taught me all this stuff. And the thing that makes me think you're right is that one of the hammers was the "ball pein" hammer (yes, different spelling), which had a rounded, mushroomy striking surface opposite the regular flat one. And then there was the "claw hammer", which was much better at removing nails. I have probably been misled by the name of the ball pein hammer into thinking that peins/peens are by definition rounded.
This may be apocryphal, but I read once that Mr Baum came up with "Oz" as he was improvising the stories for his children. He was trying to think of a name for this magical land when his eyes landed on a two-drawer filing cabinet: A–N and O–Z.
A style of open-plan office. Following on from the cube farm (and in no way an improvement on it), the pod features low partitions (accidental eye-contact with neighbours becomes possible and effectiveness as a noise barrier is reduced to a minimum), no privacy and next to no storage space. Bookshelves are a luxury accorded only to those whose portion of the pod happens to abut a supporting wall.
Etymology: viewed from above, workers bear a striking resemblance to peas in a pod.
In the lingo from my neck of the woods: someone who is not only small and puny but also annoying and perhaps a little big for the proverbial boots. Often used in the tautological playground insult: "little pipsqueak."
One of the primary ingredients of earwax is cholesterol. Indeed, I read somewhere that earwax represents the highest concentration of cholesterol anywhere in the body. Is this at all comforting to those who have been told to reduce their cholesterol levels, I wonder? Probably not.
The singing student's shorthand for referring to Giuseppe Concone's book of vocal lessons. Most people seem to acquire this in the infamous yellow-covered edition published by Schirmer (pictured above, if the random image selection stays true to form), leading to its other nickname: The Yellow Peril.
The OED offers a reminder that, in addition to sending SMS messages from one mobile to another, this noun also refers to "the alignment of notes with syllables in notations of vocal music; the relationship of notes and syllables in a vocal performance". A(n) historical usage that I hadn't encountered before.
An example: The texting of the verse-melisma uses acclamatory wording to reflect the repetitive aspects of the melodic figuration. (R. Crocker & D. Hiley Early Middle Ages to 1300 vii. 246)
Here there be a link to an ever-growing list of translations of this marvellous poem. Everything from Afrikaans to Yiddish, and not neglecting Esperanto, Latin and Klingon.
It would seem that Australian Brownie Guide Sixes are now named after various Australian flora and fauna and there are many more possible names. The seven pixie names of old (with their vaguely Aboriginal character) have been deemed "extinct" or at least retired and defunct.
The pictures loading for Moora Mooras are representations of the old Six badges. Here's another link to a set of images that will make former Aussie Brownies feel nostalgic.
Lallagullis were pixies in the Australian Brownie Guide mythology and this was a common name for Sixes.
"Lalagullis are graceful, laughing water nymphs who help the streams and lakes to keep all things clean and bright. They see that the water-lilies and other water plants are refreshed with the clear, cool water. Their particular delight is to watch over the sleek, shiny platypus babies as they tumble and play in the sparkling waterways." (The Australian Brownie Guide Handbook, 1975)
Moora Mooras were pixies in the Australian Brownie Guide mythology and this was a common name for Sixes.
"The Moora Mooras are the good fairies who help all the creatures in the bush. Perhaps a bird has injured its wing; they bandage it and look after the little bird until it is better. They especially watch out for baby kangaroos who might have fallen out of their mother's pouch." (The Australian Brownie Guide Handbook. 1975)
Junjarins were pixies in the Australian Brownie Guide mythology and this was a common name for Sixes. "Junjarins are good spirits and are the hardest working spirits in the bush. They make sure that the sick and helpless creatures have food, water and shelter. Their favourite job is to watch over the trees and flowers in the bush. They love helping the wildflower to open their petals and baby ferns to uncurl their light little fronds. Their grins are so bright, they are often taken for the rising sun." (The Australian Brownie Guide Handbook, 1975)
Tintookies were pixies in the Australian Brownie Guide mythology and this was a common name for Sixes.
"Tintookies are ground-dwelling spirits. They are extremely inquisitive, but their special interest is helping to make wishes come true when deserved. Nobody has ever seen a Tintookie, as they do their good deeds by stealth." (The Australian Brownie Guide Handbook, 1975)
I must respectfully bow out of the discussion. While I know plenty about typography and something about linguistics and phonetics, I know zilch about Italian other than my exposure to musical Italian, which, of course, has very little with real Italian to do!
I was a Brownie for a brief period, and I've always associated brownie points with the doing of good deeds generally. It went with the Brownie Guide law: A Brownie Guide thinks of others before herself and does a good turn every day. (Not to mention the motto: Lend a hand.)
The badges were another matter and very much skills based, so you might earn a badge for demonstrating an active skill such as map reading, or a creative skill such as dancing, or a domestic skill such as knowing how to wash and dry cutlery correctly (I jest not, and this may explain the "brief period" of my membership).
I was just playing around – I think you're right that Italian doesn't make use of ligatures to represent diphthongs. And it looks as if Italian may have dropped the "o" anyway (at least in my Collins Pocket).
Not sure I would describe the pairs of vowels in bianco and viola as diphthongs, as the letters belong to separate syllables. Diphthongs are the kinds of "moving" vowels that you get within a syllable, e.g. fair (eh-uh or ɛə), place (eh-ee or eɪ), tour (oo-uh or uə). As I understand it, Italian is a language of pure vowels (or is that just the musician-singer in me emerging?) and so never uses the diphthongs that you'll hear in English.
These points taken together could lead to the conclusion that Italian orthography doesn't employ ligatures for diphthongs because phonetically the language doesn't feature diphthongs.
I have always regarded this word as a logical companion to vegetate. So where slacking around doing nothing on land is vegetating, slacking around frolicking in the pool (or other body of water) would be marinating.
I'm a writer, a calligrapher and a frindley, so of course I think Andrew Clements was experiencing a moment of sheer genius when he invented this word for pen. I was rooting for Nicholas Allen* all the way. And yes, I've been given several copies of Frindle over the years — I guess it seems the logical thing to do (and it is a very satisfying yarn).
Within the Protestant church at least the Apocryphal books were/are considered edifying (i.e. "profitable and good to read") but not part of the canon for the establishment of church doctrine.
Luther, after all, considered the books worth the trouble of translating into German but, as I understand it, he rejected them as part of the canon because they contained useful defenses for such doctrines as purgatory and the saying of masses for the dead.
The quotation prefaces the Apocrypha in Luther's translation.
If a player of the lute is a lutenist and a maker of lutes a luthier, why oh why can't us flute players be flutenists and the makers of our instruments fluthiers?
Must be very old indeed. As a serious flutist/flautist/flute player I've never come across such a thing. Unless you count the occasional mispronunciation of "flautist".
Being neither British nor American I am glad to be in a position to opt for program as my preferred spelling.
My recollection (from once delving into the several pages devoted to it in the 20-volume OED) is that the "programme" spelling is relatively new in Britain — one of those examples of a 19th-century adoption of a French-ified spelling in an attempt to appear more refined.
The fake Italianate flautist is another such word. (And what is it that you do to floors?)
An instance where something is lost in the American spelling system.
I do like that I can make a distinction between practice (noun) and practise (verb). And the trick I learned as a kid was that the noun form ended with a noun (ice!).
Hmm, the original meaning you give for dilapidate (taking apart of stones) is nonetheless close in spirit to the idea of decay and ruin, although it's true that the activity involved has shifted from deliberate action to mere neglect.
Whereas the shift in meaning for decimate represents a complete turnaround, from the killing of 10 per cent to the killing of "90 per cent". That's no doubt the reason why the shift bothers bilby's 5 per cent. (That would be pomegranate, me, and how many other people?)
In my case, as a good former linguistics student, I accept and respect the shift in common usage. But what happens in practice is that I don't feel I can use the word at all. It's not even like nice where one can, on occasion, make a nice distinction just for fun.
If onomatopoeia is using words that imitate the sound they denote, then what is the word for words that make you look like the appearance they denote when you say them, e.g. moue, that special kind of disdainful French pout.
One of those words that tends to be discovered in reading rather than in conversation. So for many years I thought it was pronounced cle-RES-tor-y (four syllables, stress on the second). Had a frustrating (’cause I lost) argument with my first boyfriend who, of course, pronounced it clear-story as it should be. But when it came to awry I won and all was well again.
Beatrix Potter's use of soporific is also invoked in Margaret Edson's excellent play W;t. (Also a film, the clever typography is meant to come out as Wit.)
I always bring out the Beatrix Potter quote as evidence that it is possible to nurture wordie-ness even in the very young. This is one of the very earliest books I remember reading. And even then I "got" what she was trying to do to my vocabulary, and I've been using the word ever since.
The stately part of the official definition is misleading: a characteristic that the minuet acquired in the 19th century after everybody had stopped dancing it. The problem is most people of later periods, thinking of the minuet as graceful, have also assumed that it was slow, when in fact it was recommended that it be "played springily" (Johann Joachim Quantz, 1788).
A term in landscape architecture used to describe a path that isn't designed but rather is worn casually away by people finding the shortest distance between two points.
Australian and New Zealand slang - a quick look, as in:
"I won't have time to proofread it, but I'll take a squiz at it now and see if there's anything glaring."
Shorter OED says it's most likely a blend of quiz and squint. The New Partridge Dictionary of Slang and Unconventional English agrees with the Antipodean connection but gives "British dialect (Devon)" as the source.
Remember always to use an apostrophe (not an open quote mark) when it appears at the beginning of a word, e.g. ’cause (for because) and ’60s rather than ‘cause and ‘60s.
Alas, the evil microsoft delights in making unsolicited corrections.
When I was living in the States I had to learn to use this word instead of toilet, which drew stares and raised eyebrows in polite company, despite being perfectly acceptable in my homeland. Then I had to unlearn it three years later, lest I be thought prissy.
Australians are taught to avoid this word at all costs. I remember a teacher in primary school telling me there was no sentence where the word "get" couldn't be replaced by an alternative (implication: superior) word. Being something of a smart-ass, I responded by writing a sentence about the word, making "get" necessary.
Of course, she was simply urging her students to broaden their vocabularies and, more important, seek out powerful and specific verbs. Good on her!
Australians are taught to regard this as "wrong" or "ungrammatical" or as an informal/slangy US usage. As a result relatively few realise that (a) it is acceptable and normal in the US and that (b) it is actually very old. ’Tis ironic given that the word parallels with a whole lot of other words that we do use, such as "driven" and "written", not to mention "shown".
I'm quite fond of "gotten", but to give the Antipodean response to jennarenn's question, Aussies would most likely eschew the get verb altogether (another legacy of the education system) and say:
Indeed it does (invite unleashing), and I'm not at all unsympathetic! In this case I am - as is probably evident - driven by pragmatism more than anything else. But I am also very pleased to announce that my particular corner has just recently become a true pedants' corner.
Not unrelated are all those church and place names that have come to assorted conclusions about the possessive. For example: in the Blue Mountains west of Sydney there is a spectacular lookout named after William Govett: Govetts Leap (no apostrophe). And no, he didn't jump, he just surveyed the spot (a "leap" apparently is a Cumbrian word for waterfall).
This is the location in the office where reside the knowledge workers who care about language, accuracy and truth and who know their subject matter inside out. It is friendly rather than pejorative, and unless the residents turn into grammar nazis they are likely to be regarded with fondness.
There is no apostrophe: it is more a "corner of pedants"* or a corner where the pedants may be found than a corner that belongs to the pedants. This also allows the phrase to accommodate the possibility of one pedant or many, depending on the company or organisation in question.
*almost a collective noun?
Murphy's note: the pedant is most likely to be embarrassed by the hasty typing of pendant, itself an interesting word.
A word about linking to Facebook from your wordie profile. The "username" needs to be the ID number that you see at the end of the URL when you are on your Facebook profile page.
(Putting in your real Facebook name or a pseudonym will just result in a click-through to the Facebook Home page, not your profile.)
A simple online game that could keep a wordie amused for hours, and which might be a good deal more interesting if more wordies were playing it. Check out Human Brain Cloud here:
A leading lexicographer uses twitter almost exclusively as a simple "word of the day" catcher. It's pretty cool. You can follow her (emckean) or, if using a mobile or IM, just track wotd to get her posts and a bunch from other people who are doing the same thing. If you send your wotd to twitter preface it with "wotd:" and anyone tracking that keyword will see it too.
A musical instrument (provisional patent No.26091) manufactured in the 1930s
"As with business so with art, this is a revolutionary age. A period when speedy accomplishment is the secret of all success, and in introducing something that is truly a revelation in the providing of music in a modern way, we are simply moving with the time. It was not possible that such a thing could be achieved was the first thought of musicians, when we perfected the 'Australele' as an instrument which could be 'mastered after only a few minutes' tuition'. We have proved our claims and the critics now admit their amazement.
"Invented by an Australian, made by Australians for Australians, 'THE AUSTRALELE' is a milestone in the musical progress of Australia."
"The instrument that adds to the true care-free jollity to every occasion of pleasure. Become the life of the party. Providing the musical accompaniment for dances, beach parties, moonlight picnics and home festivities. Compact and easily handled, you need never be without your 'Australele'."
(That dangler appears in the original - I'm sure the reader is pleased to know that he or she is "compact and easily handled".)
The Australele is a 16-string, three-chord zither with a body similar in shape to a ukelele body (but without the neck) and controls in the style of an auto-harp. It is also truly defunct.
tea chest bass - a single string bowed instrument in which a tea chest forms the resonator; wikipedia tells me the North American equivalent is the washtub bass
Australele - a 16-string, three-chord zither with a body similar in shape to a ukelele body (but without the neck), manufactured in the 1930s.
viol, violone, erhu (Chinese), bandura (Ukrainian, I think), hurdy-gurdy, virginal, theorbo (long-necked lute with extra courses), archlute, viola da gamba (referred to informally as the 'gamba' and therefore literally 'leg'...)
And for some reason always associated in my mind with torpor as if one state somehow leads to the other. Perhaps in a way they do – to quote my mother, 'The Devil always finds work for idle hands.'
The Aussie usage of "mufti day" probably came from the military. It was definitely in use in the 1970s and 1980s and early 1990s. Don't know about 21st-century usage; I'm not connected with high schools in a meaningful way any more.
But you're right, the increased awareness of Muslim traditions and terminology in English-speaking countries might make it seem politically incorrect. You'd have a lexicographical and etymological education project on your hands!
Very old practice. Looking at the discussion under specific examples (such as favorited) it becomes clear that we tend not to like or be resistant to the newer verb forms – dialogue is one. But sometimes even older examples prove bothersome, such as "partying".
My personal bug-bear is gift in verb form. It makes my skin crawl.
Yet this is a very old usage indeed. However, it's one that's been sustained in daily usage only in North America. So to my Aussie ears it always rings false when I come across sentences like "She gifted me a lovely pot plant for Christmas". Because in my part of the world we'd say "She gave me a lovely pot plant for Christmas." And "gave" seems perfectly adequate.
That said, as I understand it "gift" (v) embraces the idea of giving as a present, and in North America that seems to be distinguished from the ordinary giving of something ("I gave those old t-shirts to my sister so she could pack glassware."). So using the verb form of "gift" allows for a greater distinction of meaning and less ambiguity than using "gave" for both functions. But that intellectual appreciation hasn't helped me warm to the word one bit, alas.
Why does partying bother you reesetee? Yes, it's an example of making a verb from a noun, but it's as old as the hills (well, late 16th century in the sense of taking the part of or siding with, but at least early 20th century in the sense of giving/attending parties).
Well, I'm a writer and editor - I make program books for a symphony orchestra. And that involves a fair bit of proofreading. It also involves taking on the mantle of resident guru: pronouncing on matters of musical and literary detail. Hence pedantry - of the best kind!
But why? My theory is that the publishers thought a title that referred, albeit inaccurately, to the all-important alethiometer would appeal to gadget-obsessed youth.
Too far fetched? It's as good a reason as any other. What was wrong with his original title anyway?
This one really annoyed me. A philosopher's stone is a very specific thing. The plot hinges on a philosopher's stone and the particular properties and benefits it brings its owner. A sorcerer's stone on the other hand is nothing at all.
Hi arcadia - just saw your question re the æ ligature now (I've been neglecting my list!)
If you're using a PC, then the easiest method is to hold down the ALT key while typing, using your keypad:
0230 (for lower case æ)
0198 (for upper case Æ)
This will work anywhere, including spreadsheets and emails where MS Word shortcuts and insert symbol options don't work.
If you have any problems, try toggling the "num lock" key on your keyboard.
If you are using a Mac, then hold down the ALT/OPTION key while typing:
' (i.e. an apostrophe, for lower case æ)
SHIFT+' (i.e. the double quote character, for upper case Æ)
On a Mac, you can also set up a Character Palette in your Menu bar (do this in International under System Preferences) which will allow you to insert all kinds of special characters. This isn't as speedy as using the keyboard.
If in Word on either platform you can use the Insert Symbol option. Again, not as fast and limited to Word.
Hi arcadia - just saw your question now (I've been neglecting my list!)
If you're using a PC, then the easiest method is to hold down the ALT key while typing, using your keypad:
0230 (for lower case æ)
0198 (for upper case Æ)
This will work anywhere, including spreadsheets and emails where MS Word shortcuts and insert symbol options don't work.
If you have any problems, try toggling the "num lock" key on your keyboard.
If you are using a Mac, then hold down the ALT/OPTION key while typing:
' (i.e. an apostrophe, for lower case æ)
SHIFT+' (i.e. the double quote character, for upper case Æ)
On a Mac, you can also set up a Character Palette in your Menu bar (do this in International under System Preferences) which will allow you to insert all kinds of special characters. This isn't as speedy as using the keyboard.
If in Word on either platform you can use the Insert Symbol option. Again, not as fast and limited to Word.
Comments by frindley
Show previous 200 comments...
frindley commented on the word in the library
English Novel taken from a Signed First Edition…Russian & Moroccan leather bindings, worn cloth and a hint of wood polish
September 26, 2008
frindley commented on the list i-hate-perfume
My favourite is In the Library: "English Novel taken from a Signed First Edition…Russian & Moroccan leather bindings, worn cloth and a hint of wood polish." I'm almost tempted…
September 26, 2008
frindley commented on the list words-i-assumed-i-had-not-been-misspelling-until-greeted-somewhere-by-the-fact-of-my-wrongness
exhuberant!
September 26, 2008
frindley commented on the word broadloid
A broadsheet newspaper that has succumbed to tabloid standards of journalism and integrity. Given The Plain Dealer's recent treatment of Cleveland music critic Donald Rosenberg, I'd be inclined to propose it as the latest candidate for broadloid status.
September 26, 2008
frindley commented on the word tabloid
Yields broadloid.
September 26, 2008
frindley commented on the word focalologist
Judy Ryan is waiting to be defined in the Macquarie Dictionary. Ms Ryan is a focalologist, or tie collector, and the Tie Society of Australia has applied to have the word put in the dictionary. Focale is Latin for neck cloth, cravat and scarf.
(The Glebe (Sydney), 25 Sept 2008, p.7)
September 26, 2008
frindley commented on the word focale
Also Latin for scarf. See focalologist.
September 26, 2008
frindley commented on the word features
I second bilby, chained_bear and Prolagus.
September 25, 2008
frindley commented on the word cupmudgeon
Someone who disapproves of cupcakes or who believes cupcakes are overrated.
Courtesy the Dictionary Evangelist. I was very surprised not to find it already listed here.
September 25, 2008
frindley commented on the word toroidal
A key feature of the acoustic design of the Sydney Opera House Concert Hall is the suspension of large acrylic(?) toroidal reflectors above the stage.
One conductor is known to have referred to these as the "toilet seats".
September 23, 2008
frindley commented on the word leotards
Definitely singular. I wore a leotard to ballet class for 12 years (not the same leotard). If I ever wore leotards, plural, it was because it was extra cold or one the leotards was kind of see-through.
September 23, 2008
frindley commented on the word audacity
Perhaps not a good choice for a politician, but a good choice for a leader.
September 23, 2008
frindley commented on the word abstract writer
True
September 23, 2008
frindley commented on the word engrosser
Not just any calligrapher or illuminator, I'd guess, but one who is particularly absorbed in the work.
September 23, 2008
frindley commented on the word artist, suspect
970.361-018 ARTIST, SUSPECT (government ser.)
Selects set of facial features from inventory, and arranges features to form composite image of persons suspected of criminal activities based on descriptions obtained from victims and witnesses to crimes: Assembles and arranges outlines of features, such as head contours, noses, eyes, lips, chins, and hair lines and styles, to form composite image, according to information provided by witness or victim. Operates photocopy or similar machine to reproduce composite image. Draws moles, scars, and other identifying marks, using pens, pencils, and other artist's work aids, to retouch copy. Alters copy of composite image until witness or victim is satisfied that composite is best possible representation of suspect. Classifies and codes components of image, using established system, to help identify suspect. Searches, or helps witness or victim to search, police photograph records, using classification and coding system, to determine if existing photograph of suspect is available.
GOE: 01.06.01 STRENGTH: L GED: R4 M3 L3 SVP: 6 DLU: 86
(Actually, I thought all artists were a bit suspect…)
September 23, 2008
frindley commented on the word desire path
See also desire paths.
September 21, 2008
frindley commented on the word pirate
September 19: International Talk Like a Pirate Day.
Avast, me Wordies! Don't be a lubber, bamboozle the bilge rats on Friday! Talk like a pirate.
Pirate lexicon sources:
norrell's list
jennarenn's list
MissLucinda's list
and
jamieb's open list
Not to neglect:
roseandivy's list
and its kindred spirit from
inkhorn
September 18, 2008
frindley commented on the word braggadocio
This is one of those wonderful words that sounds Italian but is really English.
The New Shorter Oxford gives the etymology as brag or braggart combined with the Italian augmenting suffix "-occio". First(?) used by Spenser as a proper name in Færie Queene (1590).
It also makes the perfect name for this font.
Now consider flautist…
September 16, 2008
frindley commented on the list punky-s-words
Perhaps braggadocio?
September 16, 2008
frindley commented on the word cubby house
The usual Aussie term for a backyard playhouse. They can be quite elaborate affairs.
September 15, 2008
frindley commented on the word feel free to call me on xxxx if you have any questions
Annoying when it appears on the end of an email from a colleague who is sitting barely 25 metres away!
September 14, 2008
frindley commented on the word wine cask
Australians invented these. No, not wooden wine barrels, but the nifty plastic "wineskin" in a box fitted with a tap. Useful for those occasions where you want a lot of wine and no one's especially concerned about the quality.
September 14, 2008
frindley commented on the word esky
An Aussie cooler box. Invented by Malley's and now made by Nylex, but, as with the bandaid, the name has been adopted for coolers generally.
There is a wiki page and Questacon includes it in a discussion of those other great Australian inventions: wine casks, stay-sharp knives, vegemite and lamingtons.
September 14, 2008
frindley commented on the word eskie
Oh yes, the ubiquitous Aussie cooler box. Although I believe the correct spelling is Esky. The real thing was invented by Malley's and is now made by Nylex, but, as with the bandaid, the name has been adopted for coolers generally.
There is a wiki page and Questacon includes it in a discussion of those other great Australian inventions: wine casks, stay-sharp knives, vegemite and lamingtons.
September 14, 2008
frindley commented on the word tod
In German: dead.
September 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word sweeney tod
But apt, since in the end tod is what Sweeney is.
September 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word pop
Soft drink forever! And down with the carbonated beverage!
September 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word mellon collie
Life is but a
(Life is butter)
Melancholy flower
(Melon, cauliflower)
Life is but a melan-
(Life is buttermelon)
choly flour
(Cauliflower)
Sing to the tune of Frère Jacques, which you can find in music notation, should you need it, here.
September 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word lulu
colloquial noun: a remarkable or excellent person or thing (19th-century origins?):
"The doomed beauty Grace Kelly was also in Hitchcock's Dial M for Murder, which was a much lesser film, mainly because Hitch couldn't really open up its stage-play format beyond a certain point. But the score by Dimitri Tiomkin, a refugee from Russia, was a lulu."
Clive James in "Classics of the Cinema"
September 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word deadlines, deadlines, and more deadlines
Oh I could do with one of those walls sometimes. (Or so it can seem; I'm actually not the slightest bit suicidal by temperament!)
September 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word deadlines, deadlines, and more deadlines
@c_b: So that's what I've been doing wrong?!
@rolig: too apt, too frightening
Whoosh, there goes another!
September 10, 2008
frindley commented on the list slice-of-life-wisconsin-in-photographs
Great list.
September 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word git
How about wrodie?
(Rhymes with roadie, another community – not clique! – that would be very surprised to hear what he has to say about the -ie suffix.)
An aside: I can't believe that no one has listed roadie before!
September 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word git
A little of the original par about wordie.org was captured over on pontificate:
"I think they might reconsider it given the fun and knowledge gained by the the logophiles and verbivores visiting sites like this one."
And more, if not all, of the famous par 5 can be read in Bilby's long comment below.
September 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word pontificate
"I think they might reconsider it given the fun and knowledge gained by the the logophiles and verbivores visiting sites like this one."
A nice example of pontification from everybody's (everybodie's? no…) favourite pompous old git. Notice the delightful way in which the writer assumes his readership to be, oh I don't know, about 50 years younger than he is, and the beautifully old-fashioned "for fun and profit" tone.
September 9, 2008
frindley commented on the word git
Bravo Bilby et al!
September 9, 2008
frindley commented on the word pumpkin hour
Midnight, of course. Now where did I leave my slipper?
September 8, 2008
frindley commented on the word insomnia
Not sure. My knowledge of tectonic plate movements is a bit hazy. Perhaps we only move westwards at night, and maybe this is why I often get my best work done after pumpkin hour.
September 8, 2008
frindley commented on the word dobber
Australian slang. One who dobs someone in by reporting their misdemeanour(s) to an authority – an especially heinous act if it gets one's friends into trouble. ("No one likes a dobber.") Think: to grass, to squeal, to finger.
September 8, 2008
frindley commented on the word whiddler
A kind of dobber in other words.
September 8, 2008
frindley commented on the word insomnia
Grr. Still awake. Ah well, will traipse off to bed with Anna Karenina – there's nothing like a Russian novel chock-full of patronymics for the full soporific effect.
September 8, 2008
frindley commented on the word git
Particularly effective in the phrase "pompous old git". Today's wordie link on twitter brought it to mind immediately! Par 5 just takes the cake. Give me the playful "superficiality" of wordies any day.
September 8, 2008
frindley commented on the word psychotropic effects of marmalade
These effects may perhaps be observed over on marmalade.
September 8, 2008
frindley commented on the word marmalade
The psychotropic effects of marmalade aside, has anyone else ever come across the following story regarding the evolution of the word marmalade:
Mary Queen of Scots had frequent headaches, for which the only relief was a special citrus conserve. When she was ill she would call for it. Having lived in exile in France she had French ladies in waiting, and so these sweet girls would flutter about the palace calling to each other: Maria malade! Maria malade! Which soon become Mar'malade…
September 8, 2008
frindley commented on the word polenta
I always find myself preferring semolina.
September 8, 2008
frindley commented on the word sanguine
This, with sepia, is a key colour in classical drawing.
September 7, 2008
frindley commented on the word sepia
I always link it in my mind with sanguine, this being the other earth tone that it used in classical drawing.
September 7, 2008
frindley commented on the word petard
Underwear! Me too!
September 6, 2008
frindley commented on the user caffeinatedcows
Try to find the recording by Frans Brüggen and the Orchestra of the 18th Century (on Glossa, a Spanish label, GCD921101). They're a period instrument orchestra (a lot of modern orchestras will substitute tuba for the ophicleide and it's not quite the same; also Brüggen's recording is really good!).
For nothing but solo ophicleide try: "Back From Oblivion" on the Australian label Melba (301111, available in the States and elsewhere, try arkivmusic.com). The player is Nick Byrne, a Sydney boy.
September 5, 2008
frindley commented on the list poetrie-the-book-of-my-enemy-has-been-remaindered
I love Clive James.
September 4, 2008
frindley commented on the list musical-terms
Here's one for you that Australian composer Peter Sculthorpe likes to use in his ensemble pieces: fuori di passo.
It translates "out of step", and he uses it, for example, in a piece called Mangrove where he wants the members of the cello section to play ever-so-slightly out of time with each other. Great effect. Actually extremely difficult for well-trained musicians to pull off!
September 4, 2008
frindley commented on the word con legno
Professional orchestral violinists often keep a second (cheap) bow to use when a composer calls for extended passages of col legno, because it's very bad for the bow! (And some of the good bows are made from beautiful, and now rare/endangered, species of wood.)
September 4, 2008
frindley commented on the word babycake
Name for a miniature cupcake, about 35mm diameter. Very cute and very sweet.
September 3, 2008
frindley commented on the word didgeridoo
Didjeridu seems to be the favoured spelling for many indigenous performers.
The truly amazing William Barton is one such. (NB. He'll be touring in Italy with the Sydney Symphony Orchestra in September – worth catching if you're in that neck of the woods.)
Otherwise the more "anglo" spelling is the one for this page didgeridoo. Then there are variants, which tend to combine aspects of these two. (And yes, for languages that aren't traditionally written, and in a culture where there are a great many language groups, the matter of spelling is indeed moot.)
Incidentally, the true art of didjeridu playing lies not in the "blubbery sounds", as uselessness delightfully puts it, but in the circular breathing that is necessary to sustain a performance of more than a few seconds. I can't really do circular breathing (tried when I was a serious flutist) but I guess this isn't an issue, since I'm a girl.
September 3, 2008
frindley commented on the word australia gday
Me too. Confess I didn't get it until I saw what list it was in!
September 3, 2008
frindley commented on the word ophicleide
Unkindly known in Victorian times as the chromatic bullock. Mendelssohn requires one in his overture and incidental music for A Midsummer Night's Dream. It does Bottom's braying beautifully.
September 1, 2008
frindley commented on the word opas
Orchestra Planning and Administration System. A whiz-bang, super-duper, truly amazing database for planning concerts, managing artists, musicians, library records, etc. etc. Even better, in my mind, than Tessitura – or at least I'm more fond of it. Alternatively, perhaps it's just German for "grandfathers".
September 1, 2008
frindley commented on the word cack
I've come across plethora's usage, also "I cacked myself", where the "laughing" part is understood.
There is also "cack-handed", which can mean left-handed, but mostly I hear it in the sense of clumsy or inept. Apparently it's British, but it certainly has some currency in Australia.
September 1, 2008
frindley commented on the word pizza ad
No, not an ad for pizzas. This is a large ad for a tabloid page in which the space is divided into four quadrants, each used to promote a different event under the banner of a single presenter.
September 1, 2008
frindley commented on the word tessitura
Or, a whiz-bang, super-duper database, developed by the New York Metropolitan Opera House to manage ticketing, customer relations and philanthropic giving.
September 1, 2008
frindley commented on the word so tired i couldn't knock the skin off a custard
Oh that's very good. I used to love eating the skin off the custard. I would fight my sisters for it. Being the youngest I always seemed to get my way – and the custard skin.
September 1, 2008
frindley commented on the word glister
All that glisters is not gold.
September 1, 2008
frindley commented on the word boyg
The great troll in Ibsen's Peer Gynt. Do little boys become trolls when you add a "g"?
September 1, 2008
frindley commented on the word piango
There you go – what happens when I attempt to play piano not having practised for a long time.
September 1, 2008
frindley commented on the word benelux
Seems only fair, perhaps.
August 31, 2008
frindley commented on the word benelux
Useful catchall term for referring to the low countries.
August 31, 2008
frindley commented on the word carillonneur
This wouldn't surprise me. I used to play a set of variations, Engels Nachtegaeltje, by Jacob van Eyck. He was a Dutch recorder virtuoso, of noble birth but blind hence his musical profession. Famous for his work as a carillonneur but also paid an additional six silver pieces a year to play his flute (i.e. recorder) in the cemetery when people were strolling there. Or something like that. Anyhow, he was born at the end of the 16th century and died in 1657. He worked in Utrecht, though, not Bruges, but the bell-ringing tradition is strong in the Benelux region so a continuous post of four hundred years doesn't really surprise me.
August 31, 2008
frindley commented on the word rumoured
Another verb usage (not requiring "to be"), especially useful when aiming for mock pretentiousness:
"I've heard it rumoured that…"
I'd be all for reviving the imperative "rumour it abroad" as a nice alternative to "spread the word".
August 30, 2008
frindley commented on the word goofy
Also an adverb, as in "to mouse goofy", which is where a right-handed person mouses with her left hand (but not necessarily switching the buttons, so a left-click is still a left-click).
August 28, 2008
frindley commented on the word spiral staircase
You are perfectly equipped to be a marauder then!
August 28, 2008
frindley commented on the word fencing
I'll check it out. Alas, I don't have a television and the Olympic coverage here was not conducive to the gatecrashing of friends' homes for the purpose of watching an arcane sport. Sigh.
I will investigate The Duellists.
August 28, 2008
frindley commented on the word cat lady action figure
Indeed, and here she is.
August 28, 2008
frindley commented on the word fencing
The frindley took up fencing when she was, well, too old. (All the best fencers begin at the age of six or so, like ballet I guess.)
And why? Mainly because she was suffering, in the professional environment, from a particularly obnoxious and petty boss. And so it seemed like the right time to pursue a long-held dream while enjoying general catharsis. She was also somewhat inspired by the Australian conductor, Simone Young, also a fencer, who once talked about how conducting and fencing both involve waving a stick, but with conducting you are trying to communicate intent, whereas with fencing you are trying to conceal intent. Very interesting thought. She had probably seen The Fencing Master on television as well, and had spent her childhood reading books like the Scarlet Pimpernel and other period romances. Oh, and the oft-quoted analogy of fencing being like chess speeded up probably had an influence too.
A postscript. Given her story, the frindley was especially amused by this site, which offers "fencing" as a corporate team-building exercise. (A "modern, collaborative experience" is their way of describing it.) Sounds dodgy to me.
August 28, 2008
frindley commented on the word spiral staircase
Descending, reesetee, descending. The ascending pillagers are meant to be hampered by the clockwise orientation, while you, the worthy householder, are permitted to descend with sword a-flashing and a-slashing.
c_b: consider it moved, with more shocking revelations from the frindley past…
August 28, 2008
frindley commented on the word ballestra
Frindley respectfully offers balestra as a preferred spelling. (This Italian word, with the one-l, means "crossbow" and there just can't not be a connection there.)
August 28, 2008
frindley commented on the word balestra
Well Nike have called their fencing shoe the "Ballestra", but as far as I can tell, all the reputable fencing websites spell it with the single "l". Indeed, one fencing forum discussing the Nike shoe correct the spelling and refer to it as the "Balestra".
But the clincher seems to reside in my Italian dictionary, where a "balestra" is defined as a crossbow, which really is an extremely apt way of thinking about this particular move.
Finally, though, in the process of pursuing spelling, I found this little video demonstrating a bal(l)estra. The commentary is kind of annoying (simplistic) and the demonstration not very inspiring, but it more or less conveys the idea.
August 28, 2008
frindley commented on the list castles-and-keeps
Well bad, bad Wordies do all the good, good Wordies a wonderful service when they take the trouble to bring such beauties as these into the Wordie world. So thank you!
August 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word cloth ears
An especially devastating thing to say of a musician.
August 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word fart machine
That would be a whoopie cushion, surely?
August 27, 2008
frindley commented on the list squopping-your-wink-a-glossary-of-tiddlywinks
omg - teh awesome list, as they say.
And I say this because I've just come home from a "Meet the Music" orchestral concert (attended for the most part, but not exclusively, by large numbers of high school student groups), in which Arabella Steinbacher played Korngold's Violin Concerto and from my eavesdropping this seems to have been the general consensus regarding the performance.
August 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word balestra
A fencing move, sometimes known as a "jump lunge".
Basic instructions can be found on eHow. These amusingly begin with: "Things You'll Need: Fencing gear".
August 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word spiral staircase
It's interesting that to this day nearly all spiral staircases are still built to ascend in a clockwise manner, thus allowing modern men and women to keep their sword arms free.
I find this appealing even though my prowess in fencing is strictly limited to the balestra, a move of which I'm especially fond.
August 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word vest
When is a vest a vest and when is it a singlet?
August 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word waistcoat
Then there's the matter of what's a waistcoat and what's a vest.
August 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word one
For CatKisses' list, lyrics that cover a good many possibilities for entering a room:
She walks into a room and you know
She's uncommonly rare, very unique,
Peripatetic, poetic and chic.
She walks into a room and you know
From her maddening poise, effortless whirl,
She's the special girl strolling,
Can't help all of her qualities extolling
Loaded with charisma is ma jauntily sauntering, ambling shambler,
One,
And you know you must shuffle along, join the parade,
She's the quintessence of making the grade.
This is whatcha call trav'ling
Oh strut your stuff!
Can't get enough!
Ohh! Sigh! give her your attention
Do I really have to mention
She's the one!
("One" from the musical A Chorus Line)
August 26, 2008
frindley commented on the word features
It seems to me that commenting on profiles is the only reliable way of carrying on a specific conversation via Wordie, and that's because you receive a notification when someone comments on your profile, whereas you don't if they use word or list comments to "talk" to you. But it does mean that you only ever see one side of a conversation on any given profile. If a Wall-to-Wall type feature could be achieved without clutter or spoiling Wordie's simplicity then I'd be all for that.
But perhaps it's better as is. Conversations on profiles aren't terribly convenient to sustain and so we focus our attention on the things that really matter on this site!
August 26, 2008
frindley commented on the word pussify
When the French first landed on Australian soil they attempted (in a kind of early "ethnomusicology") to notate the songs and "war cries" of the Aborigines, including the famous cooee. I've seen the results, beautifully presented in music copperplate, with the words written in a sort of French phonology, e.g. "couille" for cooee. The Australian composer Peter Sculthorpe tells a funny story about perfecting his pronunciation for a presentation about all this to a French audience. The nice librarian at the embassy who was helping him failed to mention that "couilles" in fact means balls.
August 26, 2008
frindley commented on the list well-known-places-youve-never-heard-of
Aotearoa (New Zealand).
August 26, 2008
frindley commented on the word lavabo
They retained the melodic motifs – you hear these in some of the connecting orchestral music – but the song itself isn't heard.
August 26, 2008
frindley commented on the word features
Since mobile wordie has recently received a plug, I have a feature suggestion for that.
At present in the mobile version we can add words to existing lists and we can follow the recent comments. But it's virtually not possible to add comments to new words (a huge minus for me, since I rarely add a word without wanting to say something about it right then and there). It's also virtually not possible to contribute to conversations via the mobile version.
I say "virtually not possible" because I did discover one day when my train was delayed that it is possible to go through a circuitous process that effectively brings up the regular version of the site onto my mobile screen, at which point I can do all the normal things, albeit in a pretty clumsy interface. Basically it involves clicking on a username (e.g. from a comment header), which takes you to that profile in the non-mobile version. From there you have access to searching and other functions. But it's pretty clunky. Indeed it's probably a bug - but please don't fix it before adding these features…
1. ability to search for words
2. ability to comment on words
August 25, 2008
frindley commented on the word evensnog
You might think this is a simple misspelling of evensong, but it isn't. You see, there are all sorts of things that choristers can get up to.
August 25, 2008
frindley commented on the word ratbag
A troublemaker. According to Richard Tognetti, artistic director of the Australian Chamber Orchestra, ratbaggery is absolutely essential to the health of the performing arts. I'm inclined to agree. There should be more ratbaggery and more larrikins.
August 25, 2008
frindley commented on the word lavabo
I've always known this word in connection with barbering, since I first heard it in a performance of Sweeney Todd:
"His needs were few, his room was bare.
A lavabo and a fancy chair.
A mug of suds and a leather strop,
An apron, a towel, a pail and a mop.
For neatness he deserved a nod,
Did Sweeney Todd,
The Demon Barber of Fleet Street."
Incidentally, you won't hear this song in the recent Tim Burton movie version because he and Sondheim decided to cut the prologue chorus for various dramatic and cinematic reasons. I respect the decision, but I was still bitterly disappointed, because it is an amazing number, complete with melodic quotations of the dies irae chant.
August 25, 2008
frindley commented on the word botch
"To leave no rubs nor botches in the work…"
Shakespeare's Macbeth to the murderers re the matter of Banquo's murder.
According to the Cambridge UP edition this is the OED's earliest citation for "botch".
The Royal Shakespeare Co. used to sell a rubber (eraser) with this quote printed on it. Cute.
I love this word.
August 24, 2008
frindley commented on the word anonymour
My secret lover.
Of course, my love life has nothing whatsoever to do with the hastiness of my typing.
August 24, 2008
frindley commented on the word cloy
Ooh, that's good. In every way.
August 24, 2008
frindley commented on the word spit shine a turd
One of my colleagues has a follow-up to the quip:
"You can't polish a turd."
He always adds:
"The harder you polish, the more the shit gets on the walls."
August 24, 2008
frindley commented on the word sodden
After the rain…
August 23, 2008
frindley commented on the word heaviside layer
Just when you thought the poet was being original, it turns out this is another, legit, term for the ionosphere.
August 23, 2008
frindley commented on the word llogos
This suggestion calls for a poem a la Ogden Nash:
The one-l lama, he's a priest.
The two-l llama, he's a beast.
And I will bet a silk pyjama
There isn't any three-l lllama.
August 23, 2008
frindley commented on the word ratio
@Logos-wanting-to-change-name: since also associated with the concept of "reason"
August 23, 2008
frindley commented on the word rain
It just so happens there was some fantastic rain happening in Sydney on Friday…
August 23, 2008
frindley commented on the word bubble wrap
Just click the
August 18, 2008
frindley commented on the word synchronized money spending
Also known as the synchronized schopfling event.
August 14, 2008
frindley commented on the word manse
I've only ever encountered manse used in the very specialised sense of a clergyman's residence, never as a variant for mansion. In many instances (but not all) a manse is a relatively modest affair, while a mansion is, of course, meant to be imposing.
That said, there is, in a particularly beautiful Federation suburb of Sydney, a manse that almost makes a girl want to (a) join the Uniting Church and (b) study for the ministry. Handsome, of a goodly size, characterful, lovely garden and not in the slightest bit pretentious.
August 14, 2008
frindley commented on the word fanny packs
aka bum bag. In Australia, one of the places where they are known as bum bags, it is not only a faux pas to wear one, but it is an even bigger faux pas to call it a fanny pack, since fanny is slang for female genitals.
August 14, 2008
frindley commented on the word somewhere over the rainbow
Q. Where do you go to weigh a pie?
August 14, 2008
frindley commented on the word hello, you've reached my immobile phone…
Useful for the outgoing voicemail message on a landline. Doesn't work so well in countries where mobiles are called cell phones.
August 14, 2008
frindley commented on the word irish underground airways
A favourite of my dad's
August 14, 2008
frindley commented on the word mostly mozart
"Mostly Mozart" is a trademark and wordmark of the Lincoln Center in New York. And you thought anyone could just use that name…
August 14, 2008
frindley commented on the word tailgating event
In my neck of the woods, where tailgate parties are unknown, tailgating refers exclusively to a very rude and inconsiderate, not to mention dangerous, driving technique (actually "technique" is too generous a term), in which someone drives too close to the car in front, often in an attempt to intimidate. An expression of road rage in many instances.
August 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word den of iniquity
My father used to answer: Irish Underground Airways. That is, until my mother threatened to hit him if he said it one more time…
August 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word poncho
Brilliant. For this I would be willing to break my cardinal fashion rule: if you are old enough to have worn it the first time ’round, give it a miss the second time ’round.
August 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word vorspiel
Or perhaps, if one wanted to be both perversely and erroneously literal, "foreplay"
August 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word muggle
Also a slang term for marijuana (either singular or plural), as I discovered today while reading about Louis Armstrong.
August 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word insomnia
Oh no, it's happening to me!
August 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word pternectomy
Which of course is something that actually happens in certain versions of Cinderella: the stepmother hacks off one of her daughters' heels in a vain attempt to make her fit the slipper. What's Greek for "ow"?
August 8, 2008
frindley commented on the word whisper
See lisp for a neat trick for making a whithper truly dithcreet. (Courtesy C.S. Lewis)
August 8, 2008
frindley commented on the word lisp
Years ago I learned something very useful from C.S.Lewis. (The Last Battle in the Narnia series, I think.)
In the book one character whispers to another while on a night-time reconnaissance: "Get down, thee better."
Lewis then explains that she says this not because she has a lisp but because she knows that the sibilants are the noisiest part of any whisper and the sound most likely to give you away if you're trying to go undetected.
And ever since I have always made a point of lithping when whithpering. Or at least avoiding words with sibilants in them.
August 8, 2008
frindley commented on the word egrote
Can this be tested? Do you think John would turn off the time-and-name stamps for 48 hours…
Not that I want to dispute your claim. A distinct style is something to be nurtured and cherished.
August 8, 2008
frindley commented on the list bookends
Granted life (Stanley Sadie's Mozart: The Early Years)
August 8, 2008
frindley commented on the word egrote
Well we'll have to do something about that. After all, it's the kind of word that's probably even more useful in the 21st century than it would have been in the 18th. So if enough people start using it, and using it in print, it's only a matter of time… (as Andrew Clements makes evident in his delightful children's book Frindle).
August 8, 2008
frindley commented on the word pendantic disorder
A condition in which one is unable to type the word "pedantic" at a first attempt. In severe cases can spread to other words, so that, for example, "composition" comes out (perhaps appropriately) as "compostion".
August 8, 2008
frindley commented on the word haz-chem
Short for "hazardous chemicals", but it has always seemed to me that it could be a rather satisfying word in its own right: "hazchem". Has a vaguely Slavic or Yiddish flavour.
August 8, 2008
frindley commented on the word algoraphobia
Oh, very good!
August 8, 2008
frindley commented on the word proofread
And how exactly does one go about taking a firefighter exam?
August 8, 2008
frindley commented on the word pear shaped
My knowledge and use of the phrase is all-Australian and I've never watched The Bill.
August 7, 2008
frindley commented on the word sublime
Oh yes, I needed to read this just now. I really did. Now I can proofread with a smile on my face!
August 3, 2008
frindley commented on the word flagship
"Your flagship orchestra." Eeeerrrrrgh!
(Actually, "Your orchestra" is bad enough.)
August 3, 2008
frindley commented on the word proofread
I should be doing this. I really should. But I don't want to look at the season brochure one more time. Sigh. Off I go. See if I can find any lingering flagships or sublime beauties or…
August 3, 2008
frindley commented on the list my-library
The first shelf of my library happens to be my "practical arts" shelf: The Australian Manual of Calligraphy; Edward Johnston's Writing & Illuminating & Lettering (Johnston belonged to the same crowd as William Morris and Eric Gill, and was responsible for the revival of hand lettering in the early 20th century); Your Penmanship, and Good Handwriting and How to Acquire It (two period pieces that my father bought in the 1950s - both quite beautiful and full of sensible advice); Jaxtheimer's How to Paint and Draw (another oldie, originally published in German in 1961). I find when it comes to "how to" books for the visual arts, anything published before I was born is almost always superior to the current crop of beautiful but insubstantial volumes. For a start, they assume the reader is serious and not out for instant gratification.
August 3, 2008
frindley commented on the user Prolagus
She lives! (Or rather, the 2009 season brochure is nearly put to bed, the worst part of the year's schedule is just about over, a fortnight's holiday has brought refreshment, the niblings' birthday presents have all been found, and frindley roams again.)
August 2, 2008
frindley commented on the word lamington
I made small ones once when I was living in the States and feeling homesick. They were 1.5" cubes and I put cointreau in the chocolate icing, so you could say they were on the sophisticated side. It was extremely difficult to find dessicated coconut in the local supermarkets, however. Could only find the flaked coconut, which is too coarse. Spent a good half an hour with a mezzaluna knife cutting the flakes into crumbs. At which point you understand why I only did it once and thereafter stuck to making pavlova.
August 2, 2008
frindley commented on the list my-library
How funny. I learnt about Library Thing via Wordie!
It's great. Especially for those series of reference books where I was forever finding myself at book sales unable to remember which volumes I owned and which ones were familiar simply ’cause I'd borrowed them from libraries. With Library Thing on my mobile phone – no more inadvertent duplication!
August 2, 2008
frindley commented on the word pentatonic buying
I made a note of five things I needed, now where is it?
July 27, 2008
frindley commented on the list don-t-panic-you-can-buy-your-way-out
Reminds me of Die Schopfling.
July 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word static buying
Actually, I meant for this to be stationeric buying, but this looks interesting too.
July 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word crumpet
So why, for the first time in months, do I buy a packet of crumpets today?
My favourite thing is to put a thin slice of unsalted butter on a hot crumpet and let it melt. Mmm.
Vegemite etc. is too salty and vaguely nutritious to give true crumpet pleasure.
But butter, honey and cinnamon is a nice combination for the sweet tooth.
There are, of course, the various slang uses of this word:
old crumpet - something akin to "old fart" or "mate", I confess to never having heard this in real life usage.
a bit of crumpet - a sexually desirable woman
July 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word ottodg
Nutmeg in predictive text speak
June 26, 2008
frindley commented on the word naplet
A little nap. A short sleep taken by the desperate following some kind of all-night vigil, usually watching over a deceased deadline.
June 26, 2008
frindley commented on the list so-busy-i-don-t-have-time-to-scratch-myself
It's 7am. I haven't slept yet. Must go take naplet.
June 26, 2008
frindley commented on the list so-busy-i-don-t-have-time-to-scratch-myself
But where are the destructions for the tiramisu? I've never made one.
June 26, 2008
frindley commented on the word armenian nutmeg cake
from the kitchen of an Anglo-Irish Australian, no Armenian within coo-ee...
A moist, spicy cake with a biscuit base (that’s “biscuit�? in Australian lingo, i.e. crisp and crumbly). Looks humble and unassuming. Look again, and it looks…gone.
To begin, remove one 4 oz stick of butter from the fridge and cut into 1/2 inch cubes (unless it’s a stinking hot day, in which case it’s perhaps best to live with cold butter, and why are you baking anyway?).
Grease and line an 8-inch springform cake tin.
Set oven to moderate (350° F).
INGREDIENTS
2 cups dark brown sugar (no lumps)
2 cups self-raising flour
4 oz butter, cubed
1 tspn bicarb soda
1 cup milk
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 tspn nutmeg
a few walnuts (or pecans), chopped
METHOD
Mix sugar, flour and butter together until texture is crumbly (like breadcrumbs). Resist temptation to use a machine for this as the results tend to be too homogenous, even sloppy – better to massage the butter cubes through the dry ingredients using your fingers. (Very therapeutic too.)
Press half the crumb mix into the base of the lined springform pan. Ensure that the layer is even, and not thicker at the sides.
Dissolve bicarb soda in milk. Add egg, nutmeg and nuts to remaining crumb mix with milk and soda solution. Pour over crumb mix layer in tin.
Bake in a moderate oven (350° F) for 60 minutes. Allow to stand 15 minutes before turning out.
NOTES
Shelf-life – It is a rarely known fact that this cake will go stale very quickly. However, for the single cook with serious will-power, the cake can be made to last four to five days if wrapped tightly in waxed or parchment paper and kept in an airtight container.
Spices – The unknowing always seem to think this cake has ginger in it (perhaps because of the textures involved and the overall spicy/brown sugar taste). It can be fun to add cinnamon and/or ginger to the nutmeg. But it would also be a convincing ginger-less ginger cake for emergencies!
June 26, 2008
frindley commented on the list so-busy-i-don-t-have-time-to-scratch-myself
Actually the armenian nutmeg cake is very very good. Is it appropriate Wordie etiquette to post recipes?
June 26, 2008
frindley commented on the list so-busy-i-don-t-have-time-to-scratch-myself
Do you mean to say. You're. Pillaging. My List??!
June 26, 2008
frindley commented on the list so-busy-i-don-t-have-time-to-scratch-myself
Argh. Bring me some Armenian nutmeg cake before I faint.
June 26, 2008
frindley commented on the word sugartongs
According to Sherlock Holmes this is singular, as in:
"Excellent Watson! You will see there a sugartongs..."
June 22, 2008
frindley commented on the list bookmarks
She lives!
June 22, 2008
frindley commented on the list bookmarks
This is excellent. And it is especially useful since (alas!) the front page only indicates how many times a word is listed rather than how many comments it has attracted. And it is the latter which is the true sign of an interesting conversation.
June 22, 2008
frindley commented on the user Prolagus
It exists
June 22, 2008
frindley commented on the word maiden over-worked
Originally a sweet tooth fairy entry, but it seems apt here as well.
June 22, 2008
frindley commented on the user Prolagus
Well, thank you for the nice thought. The past month or so I've been doing the work of two people (quite literally) and it has caused me to neglect all my favourite past times. Perhaps I'll create an empty list: something like "I'm too busy to scratch myself, let alone think of cool words to list."
June 16, 2008
frindley commented on the word tone-deaf
Very few people are genuinely tone deaf. Very few.
But there are a lot of people who've been told – usually as a child by some thoughtless and ignorant adult – that they are tone deaf. These are the kids who are told to mouth the words in choir and are generally discouraged from singing or otherwise participating in music making, and who are then deprived of great enjoyment often for the rest of their lives. What makes me really furious is when the adult in question has been a "music teacher".
May 28, 2008
frindley commented on the word maiden over-worked
The maiden part may be stretching things somewhat, but otherwise this is an apt description of me at present. (A maiden over is a cricket term, by the way.)
May 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word bingle
I just love the way the very sound of this word plays down in laconic Aussie fashion the seriousness of what it's describing. I've always associated it with an older generation - it's a word my parents, aunts and grandparents would have used but not my contemporaries. I think, however, it may be about to enjoy a comeback: saw today that a budget car insurance company has adopted it as a name: www.bingle.com.au. How endearing!
May 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word homonym
My favourite epitaph:
A Dyer by name and a dyer by trade,
Of a dire disease he a die-er was made.
But mark you well, what seems very quaint,
A die-er was he of a liver complaint.
May 21, 2008
frindley commented on the word lion's share
The Lion went once a-hunting along with the Fox, the Jackal, and the Wolf. They hunted and they hunted 'til at last they surprised a Stag, and soon took its life. Then came the question how the spoil should be divided. "Quarter me this Stag," roared the Lion; so the other animals skinned it and cut it into four parts. Then the Lion took his stand in front of the carcass and pronounced judgement: The first quarter is for me in my capacity as King of Beasts; the second is mine as arbiter; another share comes to me for my part in the chase; and as for the fourth quarter, well, as for that, I should like to see which of you will dare to lay a paw upon it."
"Humph," grumbled the Fox as he walked away with his tail between his legs; but he spoke in a low growl. "You may share the labours of the great, but you will not share the spoil."
Here
May 21, 2008
frindley commented on the word lion's share
The Lion and the Fox
A FOX entered into partnership with a Lion on the pretense of becoming his servant. Each undertook his proper duty in accordance with his own nature and powers. The Fox discovered and pointed out the prey; the Lion sprang on it and seized it. The Fox soon became jealous of the Lion carrying off the Lion’s share, and said that he would no longer find out the prey, but would capture it on his own account. The next day he attempted to snatch a lamb from the fold, but he himself fell prey to the huntsmen and hounds.
(Translated by George Fyler Townsend. Rendered into HTML on Wed Jun 10 17:25:21 1998, by Steve Thomas for The University of Adelaide Library Electronic Texts Collection.)
And from the same source:
The Wild Ass and the Lion
A WILD ASS and a Lion entered into an alliance so that they might capture the beasts of the forest with greater ease. The Lion agreed to assist the Wild Ass with his strength, while the Wild Ass gave the Lion the benefit of his greater speed. When they had taken as many beasts as their necessities required, the Lion undertook to distribute the prey, and for this purpose divided it into three shares. “I will take the first share,�? he said, “because I am King: and the second share, as a partner with you in the chase: and the third share (believe me) will be a source of great evil to you, unless you willingly resign it to me, and set off as fast as you can.�?
Might makes right.
May 21, 2008
frindley commented on the word leucomelanous
Disney's Snow White!
Not to mention a host of other beauties such as Elizabeth Taylor in her prime and Vivien Leigh.
May 21, 2008
frindley commented on the word trippingly
Fairies:
Tripping hither, tripping thither,
Nobody knows why or whither;
We must dance and we must sing
Round about our fairy ring!
From Iolanthe or The Peer and the Peri
by Gilbert and Sullivan
May 18, 2008
frindley commented on the word agenbite
Joseph Bottum has found a new function for this word. An extract:
"Let's coin a term for this kind of poetic, extralogical accuracy. Let's call it agenbite. That's a word Michael of Northgate cobbled up for his 1340 Remorse of Conscience — or Agenbite of Inwit, as he actually titled the book. English would later settle on the French-born word "remorse" to carry the sense of the Latin re-mordere, "to bite again." But Michael didn't know that at the time, and so he simply translated the word's parts: again-bite or (in the muddle of early English spelling) agenbite.
"Anyway, these words that sound true need some kind of name. And since they do bite back on themselves, like a snake swallowing its tail, Michael's term will do as well as any other. Ethereal is an agenbite, isn't it? All ethereal and airy. Rapier, swashbuckler, erstwhile, obfuscate, spume — agenbites, every one. Reverberation reverberates, and jingle jingles. A friend insists that machination is a word that tells you all about its Machiavellian self, and surely sporadic is a clean agenbite, with something patchy and intermittent in the taste as you say it."
May 18, 2008
frindley commented on the word bubble wrap
Another online game for the wordie-inclined.
Click on Verbosity once you're there. You're matched with an anonymous online partner and take turns guessing secret words, chosen by the game, based on clues provided by the other partner.
May 17, 2008
frindley commented on the word pippety-poppety-poptimist
Interesting. When I was a kid my drama teacher got us to do breathing exercises that involved saying "pippety peppety poppety" x number of times on a single breath.
May 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word resistentialism
Now this is a word I need!
May 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word naked
I don't believe so. If you read him carefully, and the full context makes it clearer, he's effectively saying that being dressed is our natural state, and that it takes a verb (i.e. an action) to render us undressed and therefore naked. So I doubt he would have had much sympathy for "naturists", whom I understand consider nudity to be the natural state.
May 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word blacktop
Asphalt is used in Australia, but not so much in connection with roads or highways - it's a surface I strongly associate with school playgrounds.
Tarmac, at least for this Aussie, is exclusively an aviation/airport term, referring to the runway, as in "we hit the tarmac at about 9.30". Oh, I can see, over on tarmac, that resetee has identified tarmac=runway as a British usage dating from 1919.
May 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word hoof and hook
Think of it more like judging a wedding cake according to its icing, decoration and overall structure; then slicing it in order to judge the quality and taste of the actual fruitcake that's inside all that marzipan and fondant.
May 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word nibling
Before my niece was born, when I had only nephews, I considered myself an uncle.
May 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word chairlift
Crikey!
May 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word chocka
Short for chocka-block. Means "very full".
May 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word blacktop
Me neither. I'd probably call the material bitumen. Not sure if there's a one-word equivalent for the verb form, perhaps tar?
May 10, 2008
frindley commented on the list the-show
Hey bilby, what's the Aussie term for "petting zoo" - is it a "Friendship Farm" or some such thing where you can go ooh and ah over the piglets and lambs and so on?
May 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word district exhibits
Stunning fruit and vegetable displays.
Pictures here and here.
May 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word wood chopping
Perhaps this should be woodchopping. Not sure.
May 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word hoof and hook
A livestock competition in which the animal, usually a steer, is judged twice: once in the parade ground (on the hoof) and again, as a carcass, after slaughtering (on the hook).
May 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word sherbet
Another view from the Antipodes. Sherbet always refers to the effervescent, usually lemon-flavoured, powdered confectionary (e.g. lemon sherbets, which enclose the sherbet in hard candy, mmm). A sorbet would be called a sorbet.
Pronunciation here is 'ʃɜb�?t (SHERbuht) i.e. with the unstressed schwa vowel in the second syllable, so the bets are off.
May 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word nake
nake v.t. Long obs. exc. Sc. ME. Back-form. f. naked adj. Make naked (lit. & fig.)
May 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word naked
The word naked was originally a past participle; the naked man was the man who had undergone a process of naking, that is, of stripping or peeling (you used the verb of nuts and fruit). Time out of mind the naked man has seemed to our ancestors not the natural but the abnormal man; not the man who has abstained from dressing but the man who has been for some reason undressed.
CS Lewis, The Four Loves
May 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word and-or
Which is perhaps why it's better that the multi-tasking musician (say, the violinist directing from the concertmaster's chair) be referred to as "violin-director" rather than "violin/director".
May 9, 2008
frindley commented on the word transitive vampire
Essential reading for the Wordie-inclined vampire:
The Deluxe Transitive Vampire: A Handbook of Grammar for the Innocent, the Eager and the Doomed
by Karen Elizabeth Gordon.
Search Inside here
I particularly like this example:
"She wrapped herself up in an enigma, there was no other way to keep warm."
May 9, 2008
frindley commented on the word vampire
See transitive vampire.
May 9, 2008
frindley commented on the word sook
Just in case you were mislead by the usage example on fossick, sook isn't always used harshly. It can also be used kindly and can even serve as a term of endearment, as in these examples taken from a list of NZ and Australian words:
sook: kindly description of someone who is being silly, or behaving like a softy or scaredy cat. As in:- "you're being a sook"... "just a big sook" and so on... More often than not the phrase is used as a term of endearment.
To this can be added the idea of teariness or being prone to crying, hence "sooky baby".
May 8, 2008
frindley commented on the word fossick
Almost exclusively Australian word of Cornish origin. I am told that sook - as in "Grow up, stop crying and don't be such a bloody sook" (or "sooky baby") is also of Cornish origin.
May 8, 2008
frindley commented on the word nibling
Now this one's interesting, because I made it up too. And it was some years ago now, my niblings are aged between 10 and 15. Then someone else I know made up the exact same word, quite independently of me; and now jruberto, and it appears dontcry. And even a quick fossick on the interwebs suggests that we are not alone. Not in the slightest.
Wiktionary cites examples dating back to 1989. Urban Dictionary gives it some cred. And the really cute thing: in 2004 a group of English schoolchildren lobbied to have the word admitted to the OED. (Shades of Andrew Clements's Frindle in that story.)
But that's a digression; my main point is that I don't think I've come across a word that is so consistently and independently invented by so many people. That says to me that there is a deeply compelling logic in the construction as well as a deeply compelling need for the word.
So why isn't it in the OED??
May 8, 2008
frindley commented on the word nature strip
See a world of possibilities in the discussion for sidewalk.
May 8, 2008
frindley commented on the word sidewalk
I'm with bilby: the nature strip lies between the footpath and the road.
May 8, 2008
frindley commented on the word spouse
Plural: spice, of course.
As in "Professors and their spice are invited to the Garden Party…"
May 7, 2008
frindley commented on the word faute de frappe
Actually no: French pianos (the Pleyels and Érards) as well as the early Viennese pianos had comparatively light actions, whereas the English Broadwoods were the heavy ones. But nowadays it's one-size-fits-all and every concert pianist wants a Steinway. (Not that these don't vary, but the differences in action are much more subtle than they were in the 18/19th centuries.) It's to do with the touring life: pianists don't have time to get to know a new piano action for every gig*, so the makers have made consistency and conformity a virtue.
*Krystian Zimerman's solution is to carry his own Steinway action around with him – just the keyboard and hammer mechanism, that is.
But back to the point: I think it's interesting that frappé in ballet suggests a sharp and precise striking action (e.g. of the foot against the floor in a battement frappé), but not necessarily a heavy action.
May 5, 2008
frindley commented on the word cor anglais
See also English horn.
May 4, 2008
frindley commented on the word english horn
See flying lemurs. (Well, why not?)
May 4, 2008
frindley commented on the word flying lemurs
Reminds me of the english horn: neither English nor a horn.
Of course, it was wrong-headed to attempt to translate the original name (cor anglais) in the first place, since that's an example of Franglais, most likely meaning angled "horn".
May 4, 2008
frindley commented on the list predictive-text-speak
Hee hee! Predictable maybe, but very funny.
It's a shame, though, that predictive text dictionaries couldn't be a bit more extensive. Although if they were I wouldn't encounter such amusing non-words as captaingog and volatus…
May 4, 2008
frindley commented on the word quandarer
predictive text speak for standards
May 4, 2008
frindley commented on the word faggot
Also another name for bassoon. German spelling "Fagott" and Italian "fagotto". From the French "fagot", meaning a bundle of sticks.
May 3, 2008
frindley commented on the list the-i-de-facto-i-phonetic-alphabet
In my experience a good many tend to be names, e.g. N for Nellie.
And the use can often be selective, with not all letters given a phonetic helper, just the ones that need it most: F and S can often be confused, so they'll be identified in phone calls, similarly D and T, N and M and so on. But L, for example, is often left alone. Ditto E.
May 3, 2008
frindley commented on the word tontine
"…a macabre form of investment, popular in Europe and America in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, in which the amount you got back depended on how many of your fellow-investors you outlived."
Michael Kinsley in The New Yorker
May 2, 2008
frindley commented on the word irrational exuberance
Term coined by Alan Greenspan in a lecture on the importance of price stability and the Federal Reserve System for the American Enterprise Institute on 5 Dec 1996.
"How do we know when irrational exuberance has unduly escalated asset values, which then become subject to unexpected and prolonged contractions, as they have in Japan over the past decade? And how do we factor that into monetary policy?"
May 2, 2008
frindley commented on the word pique
(Digressing back to Laiane's comment…)
When used in reference to fabric it's usually pronounced pee-kay, and in fact the NSOED's preferred spelling for this sense is piqué. (But "pique" is allowed as an alternative.)
April 29, 2008
frindley commented on the word labio-dental voiced fricative
My real name has one of these. It makes me so happy!
April 29, 2008
frindley commented on the word vulgate
c_b seems to be very fond of the labio-dental voiced fricative. Couldn't agree more. Mmmmmmm.
Sorry, that should be Vvvvvvvvv.
April 29, 2008
frindley commented on the word ΒΑ�?Α�?Α
Ah, I think I see – this is related to my question on features about including square brackets as square brackets (instead of as a way of creating word links). Should I say sneaky or nifty?
Which means that one probably shouldn't need to use Cyrillic or other special characters at all, just the character entity numbers for the standard Latin alphabet…
For example? ALL CAPS
April 28, 2008
frindley commented on the word ΒΑ�?Α�?Α
I'm feeling faint…
Just don't do this to TOMATO anyone.
April 28, 2008
frindley commented on the word pantyhose
Then there's always hosiery – I've never liked that word.
April 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word snooze or booze
The eternal problem with Friday nights.
April 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word puddenbrooks
Buddenbrooks (Thomas Mann)
April 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word puddenbrooks
And rather apt as a summary of the original.
(Disclaimer: I haven't finished reading it yet.)
April 27, 2008
frindley commented on the list autantonyms
I have come across three additional terms used in connection with this phenomenon:
contranym
antagonym
enantiodromic
and also
antanaclasis – rhetorical device that can make use of autoantonyms, although these two don't:
"We must all hang together, or assuredly we shall all hang separately." (Benjamin Franklin)
"Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana." (Groucho Marx)
April 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word stimthought
Where does telling jokes to yourself fall in the gamut?
April 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word mahler
"I'll drink to that. And one for Mahler!"
–Here's to the Ladies Who Lunch (Stephen Sondheim)
April 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word features
Bewdiful!
April 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word geekette
Because there are times when you need an old-fashioned feminine ending!
April 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word features
That's what I've been doing too, and they certainly do the trick. But the geekette at heart is curious as to whether there is a neat technical solution.
April 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word roc à bail, bey bis
Roc à bail, bey bis;
On détruit tape.
Où N. de Windt blouse
Décret d l'huile roque.
April 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word rabais dab dab
Rabais dab dab
Trille, ménine, taupe.
April 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word salut, mon grandi
Salut, mon grandi,
Borgne, non mandé.
April 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word tuie-nickel
Tuie-nickel, tuie-nickel, lit tel se tare.
Ah! Ouaille ou âne d'ère ouate, Io art…
April 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word georgie port-régie
Georgie Port-régie, peu digne en paille,
Qui se dégeule sans mais. Dame craille.
Où haine de bouées ce qu'aime a tout pilé:
Georgie Port-régie règne. Ohé!
April 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word tu marques et tu marques et
Tu marques et tu marques et
Tu bâilles, effet typique.
Heaume et gaine! Heaume et gaine!
Gigoté chic!
(This can be translated or interpreted after a fashion, but it's much more effective simply to read it aloud until the following emerges:
To market, to market
To buy a fat pig.
Home again! home again!
Jiggedy jig!)
April 27, 2008
frindley commented on the list coucy-castle-ms
My apologies. Too obscure. The MS predates the first recorded English nursery rhymes in the 17th century. De Kay therefore posits the following theory: Protestant Picard émigrés in London (prior to the Edict of Nantes in 1598) would surely have congregated in taverns, and...recited or even sung their native rames…Locals hearing the verses as French-accented English, might well have…learned them by heart and…made them their own. And as the French rhymes became a part of English oral tradition, they would have been forgotten in France, the usual fate of such ephemera.
Will post further clue under tu marques et tu marques et.
April 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word features
Help please: If, in a comment, I want to put square brackets around a word or phrase – not to link to a word or phrase entry, but simply to use the brackets as punctuation, e.g. editorial aside, or because it's in the original source for a citation – how do I do that?
April 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word help
Oh yes, that happens to me too!! Annoying as all get-out, as you say.
I did once discover – perhaps in Word, or may it was at system level – a way to map Help to a different key. If I can find it again I will post the solution here.
April 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word fille…faille…faux…femme…
Fille…faille…faux…femme…
Aïe! Semelle de blaude évanouie ne glisse manne.
Bé y à l'ail-vore, bée y d'aide.
A la graille ne dis ce beaune tout Mecque, maille brette.
The editor believes the opening line and a bit refers to the speaker's pain caused by his womenfolk's preoccupation with clothes. But one can't be sure on this point.
April 27, 2008
frindley commented on the list coucy-castle-ms
It helps to read these lines aloud in the sonorous, measured classic style of the Comédie Française (or failing that, one's best attempt at a strong French accent), at which point they assume an overpowering air of nostalgia. In this respect the manuscript has similarities with the somewhat older Mots d'Heures: Gousses, Rames.
April 27, 2008
frindley commented on the list coucy-castle-ms
Also inspired by the recent activity around mondegreens.
April 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word mondegreen
More mondegreens here.
April 27, 2008
frindley commented on the list coucy-castle-ms
Inspired by Asativum's comments on pied-à-terre.
April 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word pellitory
I know this is plant name noun, but I do think it's yearning, deep down in its little weedy heart, to adopt a useful function in the world as an adjective.
I'm proposing "fiery and furious", based in part on the etymology and in part on feelings a particular variety of pellitory (the Parietaria judaica aka asthma weed) arouses in me.
April 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word discretion
Personally I go for the hammer blows.*
*Sixth Symphony
April 27, 2008
frindley commented on the word generation
Serious question: How do you measure a "generation"?
April 26, 2008
frindley commented on the word argonauts
From the 1930s until the 1960s, the Australian Broadcasting Commission broadcast a daily children's show "The Argonauts". It was also a radio club: each member had a number and was allocated to a ship in Jason's fleet (the membership records are now lost). It was hugely popular and influenced a whole generation of Australians.
April 26, 2008
frindley commented on the word the handmaid's biographer's moustache
with apologies to Margaret Atwood, A.S. Byatt and Kingsley Amis.
April 26, 2008
frindley commented on the word syrinx
See panpipes.
April 26, 2008
frindley commented on the word panpipes
See syrinx.
April 26, 2008
frindley commented on the word sprig of rosemary
Rosemary for remembrance – an old old symbol.
Ophelia:
There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray,
love, remember: and there is pansies, that's for thoughts.
April 25, 2008
frindley commented on the list aussie-rules
My contributions reveal two things: I don't actually follow sports; and, Aussie Rules is such an intrinsic part of Australian life that its presence can be felt everywhere, even in "the yarts".
April 25, 2008
frindley commented on the word beyond twelve
This ballet, created for the Australian Ballet by Graeme Murphy in 1980 (with the late Kelvin Coe as its star) begins with young men playing Aussie Rules on stage. (The music is the third movement of Ravel's Piano Concerto in G, by the way – fantastic stuff!) Murphy had the male dancers of the company actually learn and train in the sport with one of the leading AFL coaches so they could be sufficiently convincing. Some of the pictures loading above are from Beyond Twelve.
April 25, 2008
frindley commented on the word the club
Early play by David Williamson, which takes as its setting and theme the inner workings (and turmoil) of a VFL (now Australian Rules football) club. Has acquired classic status in Australian theatre.
April 25, 2008
frindley commented on the word aerial ping-pong
Jocular name for Australian Rules football, inspired by the impressive leaping that goes on in this game.
April 25, 2008
frindley commented on the word furphy
Commonly accepted derivation (courtesy wikipedia):
"…from water carts made by a company established by John Furphy: J. Furphy & Sons of Shepparton, Victoria. Many Furphy water carts were used to take water to Australian Army personnel during World War I. The carts, with "J. Furphy & Sons" written on their tanks, became popular as gathering places where soldiers could exchange gossip, rumours and fanciful tales."
April 25, 2008
frindley commented on the word kafoops
Not dissimilar to "Lord…" or "Lady Muck"
April 24, 2008
frindley commented on the word kafoops
As in: "Madam Kafoops" (Australian, gently derogatory)
Usage: "Who do you think you are? Madam Kafoops?"
Might be said to a child who is expecting mum to wait on her hand and foot or who is being obnoxious and oozing "entitlement". I don't think I've ever heard it used of or to an adult, hence my qualification "gently".
April 23, 2008
frindley commented on the word smell-o-vision
But is it as good as sex on a bearskin rug?
April 23, 2008
frindley commented on the list mis-sung-a-litany-of-mondegreens
More mondegreens than you can shake a proverbial stick at. All wrapped up in a heart-warming hymn tune.
April 23, 2008
frindley commented on the word chained bear banana banshee
Yes! That's it, c_b, circus peanuts were what I tried.
Love that auntie imagery, bilby – it captures that peculiar scent perfectly.
April 23, 2008
frindley commented on the word mulesing
Mulesing might be bad, but flystrike is a hundred times worse. The name is somewhat misleading: when I first encountered the term as a child, I imagined bothersome flies buzzing around a sheep's butt. But flystrike is when those flies lay eggs and those eggs hatch and maggots begin to invade and eat away at the sheep's necrotic nether regions. Truly disgusting, gives prolonged pain, and is ultimately fatal. So one can't blame farmers for trying something, although a kinder method than mulesing would be infinitely preferable and I'd support the measures to have the technique replaced.
On the other hand, it's also been argued that the breeding programs that have encouraged the wrinkliness in the Merino breed (more skin surface = more wool) has led to an increased risk of flystrike that other breeds don't face. And perhaps breeding for less wrinkliness needs to be a part of the long-term solution. With some breeds you can get by with crutching, which involves shaving wool from the vulnerable area under the tail, but not removing skin or making incisions.
Finally, the pictures that are currently loading above are puzzling: mulesing is banned on sheep over one year old and normally lambs are mulesed a few weeks after birth. The pictures show much older sheep and therefore a much more extensive operation.
April 23, 2008
frindley commented on the word chained bear banana banshee
Lolly bananas, as I call them, are usually about 5cm long, banana shaped (of course), and an opaque light yellow. They sometimes have a slightly powdery surface as if they've been lightly dusted with cornflour. They are what I'd call a fondant candy, with a texture that ranges from slightly chewy to crisp and crunchy, depending on the degree of freshness. (Some fans insist on them being fresh, others will eat only stale ones.) The flavour has nothing with bananas to do, but comes from an ester that every chemistry teacher gets you to make in high school (isopentyl acetate maybe?).
I rather like them, but do feel quite sick if allowed to consume a whole bag of the things.
I looked and looked when I was living in the States and never once found them, although I did once try something that was orange coloured and not banana shaped but which otherwise had the exact same texture and flavour. Can't remember what they were called.
April 23, 2008
frindley commented on the word divorcée
The Gay Divorcee!
April 23, 2008
frindley commented on the word arthur or martha at the picture show
This reminds me of a former colleague, now retired. On Monday he would declare: "It's all too much."
By Friday he was saying: "I can't take it anymore!"
April 22, 2008
frindley commented on the word twitter and blistered
Such a useful emotion.
April 22, 2008
frindley commented on the word pipening rods
Hmm. Why is this making me feel all twitter and blistered?
;-)
April 22, 2008
frindley commented on the word bubble wrap
Then there is the mildly addictive word-motivated Human Brain Cloud mentioned in Errata some time back.
April 21, 2008
frindley commented on the word bubble wrap
And this one is simply bizarre. Fleeting amusement from Stupid Forum. (If you're accused of spamming, try again.)
April 21, 2008
frindley commented on the word bubble wrap
Here's one for the artistically inclined. Just start dripping in the manner of Jackson Pollock; clicking the mouse changes colour.
Shame you don't work at an art museum Pro… you could almost justify this one!
April 21, 2008
frindley commented on the word bubble wrap
I second the bubble wrap tag idea.
April 21, 2008
frindley commented on the word logo
You don't have to work around fundraising types for very long to become familiar with the phrase "Make the logo bigger". These creatives take the mickey out of the concept beautifully. In addition to the song, there is a cream that you can get, which, when rubbed on the inadequate logo, will make it bigger.
April 21, 2008
frindley commented on the word bubble wrap
Here's another candidate. Watch the little "throw metre" on the left to improve accuracy.
April 21, 2008
frindley commented on the word sago
Oh, I love sago pudding. It was one of my favourites as a child, second only to hasty pudding.
April 21, 2008
frindley commented on the word bubble wrap
Oh yes!!! Perfect.
April 21, 2008
frindley commented on the word flautist
So what exactly is it that you do to floors?
April 21, 2008
frindley commented on the word vegetarian
Now. Can I point everyone in the direction of the Berlin Philharmonic's latest online game: Cello Hero? (It's actually called Cello Challenge, but we know what they really mean.) It's here.
April 21, 2008
frindley commented on the word vegetarian
@arcadia: Happy to clarify. I wasn't suggesting that spent dairy stock are not slaughtered for meat (although it's pretty poor quality meat and won't make it into your supermarket as steaks – more likely used for pet food and cheap hamburger patties). I was just pointing that it's probably not the case that "Most of the meat eaten in this nation is that of spent dairy cows…"
In Australia the dairy population is just under 2 million animals and these animals live some years before being considered "spent"; the beef population is over 20 million animals in order to keep up with domestic and export demand.
The population stats and the nature of the two industries lead me to conclude that most of the meat eaten in Australia (and likely North America too) is coming from cattle raised for beef production.
A quick search of stats suggests that only around 15-17% of "cheap" meat categories is sourced from dairy herds. It also seems that the concern surrounding this is as much to do with hormone levels in dairy herds (and therefore what we are putting into our bodies) as it is to do with the cruelty of eating an animal that is no longer considered productive as a dairy cow.
April 21, 2008
frindley commented on the word vegetarian
Point taken, Ptero, and a good one.
One of things I love best about Wordie is its pure whimsy.
April 21, 2008
frindley commented on the word vegetarian
I can speak only from local experience, but as a former student of agriculture in Australia I can say that there is a discrete beef industry here that is quite separate from the dairy industry. For a start, the breeds that yield the right physiognomy for one are not well-suited for the other. (Square-framed "meaty" Herefords and Angus, for example, versus the high-milk Friesians and high-butterfat Jerseys.) Most of the meat eaten here would come from specialist beef producers, not spent dairy stock. My suspicion is that this would be the same in other countries.
(This is not an argument for or against the raising of cattle for meat or for milk, just an observation about what happens in the industry and what it is that meat eaters are most likely eating.)
April 20, 2008
frindley commented on the list on-tha-s
On the nose…
April 20, 2008
frindley commented on the word 10!
10! (that is, 10 × 9 × 8 × 7 × 6 × 5 × 4 × 3 × 2 × 1) equals 3,628,800.
That's also precisely the number of seconds in 6 weeks.
More numerical amusements to be found at the temporarily resting Futility Closet, an idler's miscellany of compendious amusements.
April 20, 2008
frindley commented on the word 175
175 = 1(to the power of 1) + 7(to the power of 2) + 5(to the power of 3)
(Sorry, don't know how to set superscripts.)
April 20, 2008
frindley commented on the word eleventeen
And then there is Bilbo Baggins's Eleventy-first birthday. (Which, when combined with Frodo's 33rd, coming-of-age, made one gross.)
April 20, 2008
frindley commented on the word moxie
Wikipedia describes the product Moxie as a recreational soft drink. Does anyone know how that differs from an ordinary soft drink?
April 20, 2008
frindley commented on the word past tense
Stuart Little: You seem tense!
Snowbell: Tense? Oh, I'm - I'm way, way past tense
(from the screenplay for the 1999 film of Stuart Little)
April 20, 2008
frindley commented on the word terrific
"But, Charlotte," said Wilbur, "I'm not terrific."
"That doesn't make a particle of difference," replied Charlotte. "Not a particle. People believe almost anything they see in print."
–Charlotte's Web (E.B. White)
April 20, 2008
frindley commented on the word salutations
Charlotte: Salutations.
Wilbur: Salu-what?
Charlotte: Salutations.
Wilbur: What are they? And where are you?
Charlotte: Salutations is my fancy way of saying hello.
(from the screenplay of the 1973 film of Charlotte's Web)
Charlotte is most definitely a Wordie.
April 20, 2008
frindley commented on the word baa ram ewe
Baa-ram-ewe, baa-ram-ewe.
To your breed, your fleece, your clan be true.
Sheep be true.
Baa-ram-ewe.
–Babe (Dick King-Smith)
April 20, 2008
frindley commented on the word koala
Koala fingerprints (yes, they have them) are virtually indistinguishable from human fingerprints. Scroll down on this site for a mug shot.
April 20, 2008
frindley commented on the word trouble
The Chinese ideogram for "trouble" shows two women living under one roof.
(Disclaimer: I don't know Chinese, can anyone verify this?)
April 20, 2008
frindley commented on the word not my rifle
"You're my lover, not my rival."
–Karma Chameleon (Culture Club)
April 20, 2008
frindley commented on the word warn my friend
"If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando."
April 20, 2008
frindley commented on the word old lambs fry
I never could stand lambs fry, although I was fond of ox tongue. But the very worst – and still the bane of my life owing to its ubiquity – is the humble tomato. Will not, cannot, eat an uncooked tomato.
April 20, 2008
frindley commented on the word disque audionumérique
The Académie prefers this to "le CD". But "cédérom" is, apparently, ok for CD-ROM.
April 20, 2008
frindley commented on the word old lambs fry
…and auld lang syne.
April 20, 2008
frindley commented on the word might could
True. I stand corrected. Interesting date that would be. For a morning person.
April 20, 2008
frindley commented on the word ostriches
Re: ringing Joyce
Wikipedia cites it as a mondegreen sung by the main character in the Australian mockumentary Kenny (2006). Kenny also has such fascinating sayings as: "This is the busiest time of year, this is a crazy time, it just goes bonkers. It's as silly as a bum full of smarties".
April 20, 2008
frindley commented on the word vote
I vote technomom for having the most comprehensive "also on" list in all Wordie!
April 20, 2008
frindley commented on the word galliard
A leaping dance, typically done by men. Apparently, though, Queen Elizabeth I would dance one every morning in her nightgown as a form of exercise. (She also, as a model for her people, took a bath every six months whether she needed it or not.)
April 20, 2008
frindley commented on the word ostriches
I'm just old enough to have learned the un-PC original version of the Australian anthem. And to have sung God Save the Queen as well as the national anthem. (God Save the Queen was phased out when I was infants school, I think).
By the way, if not sung at dirge-like pace, the tune for God Save the Queen (My country ’tis of thee) reveals its origins as a sprightly Elizabethan galliard.
April 20, 2008
frindley commented on the word exsqueeze me
Goes with guesstimate and other fun constructions that have more truth in them than the real word. (Try making your way from one side of a function room to the other… "exsqueeze me" is pretty much what you have to do.) That said, "guesstimate" seems to have acquired real word status, with dictionary definitions and everything. So not quite the same thing. Perhaps it's only a matter of time for exsqueeze.
April 20, 2008
frindley commented on the word yield
Aussies merge – have never seen squeeze. Glad you didn't have an accident!
April 20, 2008
frindley commented on the word might could
Be careful in Germany: "half seven" will mean 6.30pm, not half past seven, making for missed dates. There's a delicious logic in that, I know.
April 20, 2008
frindley commented on the list at-least-two-apostrophes-or-your-money-back
Mark Twain in his Samuel Clemens hat had something to say on this subject, being an advocate for sha'n't and possibly ai'n't (or something similar, it was a long time ago that I read it).
April 20, 2008
frindley commented on the word yous
A not uncommon usage in Australia , equivalent of y'all. One friend of mine enjoys writing it "ewes".
April 20, 2008
frindley commented on the word kunnossapitotyö
Finland: Road Repairs
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word leaves on road
Picture
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word less speed less dust
Picture
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word caution dusty when dry
Picture
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word gravel road
"Careful driving techniques are advised."
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word when flashing give way to peds
This is real.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word gate and grid
Warns of a cattle grid.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the list road-signs
I wonder how many of these will turn out to have lives as rock bands and/or albums? E.g. Men at Work and Slippery When Wet
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word give way
As a road sign: see Yield.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word yield
As a road sign: I first encountered this in the States and I was used to the Australian equivalent, Give Way. "Yield" seemed terribly mediæval to my ears.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word cool spot for his toes
Something Paddington Bear would look for immediately upon waking. This is something I have never been able to understand, not even in summer.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word oh, four tuna
I wish I could find that Indian version of Michael Jackson's Thriller, with "subtitles".
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the list amadeus-from-the-sublime-to-the-scatalogical
But you must admit that he does bear an uncanny resemblance to the (admittedly controversial) Edlinger portrait of Mozart (1790).
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word do not read below this line
---------------------------------------
But you are reading, or you wouldn't have your eye on these words. Well, as you've disobeyed the above instruction and have read this far, you may as well know that the only "catch" in all this is that you're not going to get anywhere. You're reading about nothing. Nothing is going to be said, and you're silly to go on reading. So why go on?
Well, why go on? Why persist in continuing to read when you've been warned that it's getting you nowhere? Stop. Now.
Do you call this stopping, letting your eyes sneak down to see what this next paragraph contains? You can rest assured that it contains nothing of greater importance than the paragraphs above. Utter drivel, save for that one eminently sensible note: Stop reading.
You're not starting another paragraph? You're incorrigible. Look, this whole piece, from that line above to the bottom of the page, is about nothing. Can't you understand that? Nothing.
See if you can't understand it better this way: Yammer, yammer, yammer, yammer, yammer, yammer, yammer, yammer. Does that make sense? Well, it makes as much sense as everything else you're going to read till you finish this page.
Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of the party. The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog's back. It's pointless, continuing to tell you of the folly of going on if you won't stop. Sheer gibberish will serve just as well. Ukly muckly. Abra kadabra. Eeny meeny miny mo.
Well, this is the last paragraph, and you must have realised by now that there will be nothing in it worth reading. Are you a man or a mouse? You've got nothing to lose by breaking off right here and now. Nothing to lose and everything to gain. Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing. Yet here you are right at the finish, having got yourself precisely nowhere.
This was above all my favourite moment in the Cole's Funny Picture Book No.3 (page 74). A real period piece; simply had to share it.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word ostriches
And apparently there's another variant:
"Australians all let us call Joyce
For she is young and free…"
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word oh, four tuna
The video says it all. The big tune from Carl Orff's Carmina Burana as you've never heard it before.
(You may need to refresh your screen after loading if the synchronisation is out.)
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word haffely gaffely
The wild, strange battle cry: Haffely, Gaffely, Gaffely, Gonward.
("Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward," from "The Charge of the Light Brigade")
More Sylvia Wright
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word good mrs murphy
Another mondegreen from Sylvia Wright:
Surely Good Mrs Murphy shall follow me all the days of my life.
("Surely goodness and mercy…" from Psalm 23)
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word lady mondegreen
Ye Highlands and ye Lowlands,
Oh, where hae ye been?
They hae slain the Earl Amurray, sic
And laid him on the green.
This became the source for the term mondegreen as coined by Sylvia Wright.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word ostriches
I mean, I had always wondered about the ostriches – they're not native to Australia after all – but I simply concluded that emus wouldn't have scanned so well.
Oh, and I think nowadays we're meant to sing "Australians all…"
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word shepherds' socks
While shepherds washed their socks by night
All seated on the ground,
A bar of sunlight soap came down
And suds spread all around.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word under armed
There is a chorus in Handel's oratorio Samson.
The text is: "With thunder armed, great God, arise."
But since the opening words are repeated a few times, it can come out sounding like:
"With under armed, with under armed…"
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word ostriches
As in "Australian sons and ostriches"
The Australian anthem actually begins:
"Australian sons let us rejoice."
But I didn't realise this until sixth class.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word squillow, tit squillow, tit squillow
You have reminded me…
See under armed.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word synaesthesia
Other composers who were or were possibly synæsthesic: Olivier Messiaen, Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov (Mr Flight-of-the-Bumble-Bee), Alexander Scriabin (who included a "colour organ" in one of his pieces), György Ligeti, Jean Sibelius
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word domestic peach and other stories
Tales from Balzac's retirement to the family orchard.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word a loom of one's own
In this paean to domesticity Virginia Woolf admits she was mistaken.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word soutien-gorge
’Cause the French wouldn't just call it a brassière, I guess.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word monobosom
Edwardian trend: "The general impression given was of an enormous one piece bosom, referred to as a monobosom. Because the bust was largely unsupported, ladies began to wear various styles of bust bodices and added other extra padding, even handkerchiefs, to increase the frontage which hung low over the waist."
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word lovely
"Love-ly,
All I am is lovely.
Lovely is the one thing I can do.
Winsome,
What I am is winsome,
Radiant as in some
Dream come true.
Oh, isn't it a shame?
I can neither sew
Nor cook
Nor read or write my name.
But I'm happy
Merely being lovely,
For it's one thing I can give to you."
lyric from Stephen Sondheim's A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word invocation
That's true, had forgotten. Then there's the conclusion of Poulenc's Dialogues of the Carmelites: less spectacular but creepier, with those thuds from the guillotine at intervals. Ugh.
Incidentally, Dialogues… is one of the few operas that begins in one language (French) and ends in another (Latin).
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word invocation
Does Bernstein's Candide have an invocation? I know it has an auto-da-fé, as in that great number:
"What a day, what a day, for an auto-da-fé!"
I can't think of any other operas. Unless you're talking of an act of faith of the non-flammable variety!
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word too many notes
(Letting the truth get in the way of a good story…)
This line comes from a popular apocryphal anecdote, first aired by Franz Xaver Niemetschek (among other things the first person to write a full biography of Mozart) in 1798:
JOSEPH II: Too beautiful for our ears, dear Mozart, and monstrous many notes!
MOZART: Exactly as many as are necessary, Your Majesty.
In brief, while this fits the posthumous myth of M as free artist on the outside of the Viennese establishment, ruled only by innate genius, it's historically implausible. It doesn’t fit Mozart’s anxiousness to please the Viennese, or with the musical concessions and cuts that he made or sanctioned in the opera.
But the anecdote thrived on "the inability of many of the initial listeners to grasp the music’s psychological involvement in nearly everything that matters in the drama." The ‘true subject’ of the conversation – if in fact it occurred in any form – might well have been M’s accompaniments, which were perceived as "overwrought, distracting and difficult to absorb".
(Source: Thomas Bauman in the Cambridge Opera Handbook for The Abduction from the Seraglio)
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word anguished antiques
See hairdresser vs Hercules.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the list amadeus-from-the-sublime-to-the-scatalogical
It is one of the most musical films ever made. Stunning. And poignant. Some say the film is better than the play. I love both but for very different reasons. The play conveys more of the spirit of artifice of Classical (as in 18th-century) music and the character of its dramatic devices. The film (shot in Prague I believe) is beautifully made and wonderfully acted and the soundtrack is stunning.
As a study of envy and despair in the face of seemingly undeserving God-given genius it's unparalleled. Of course, Peter Shaffer owed a great deal to Pushkin's Mozart and Salieri written in 1831, and that's worth seeking out too. Although Salieri really did go through a brief illness towards the end of his life during which he claimed to have murdered Mozart, he later denied this and no one had believed him at the time anyway. But it was Pushkin's "little tragedy" that really stimulated the legend of Salieri killing Mozart through jealousy.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word patron saint of mediocrities
"And when you feel the dreadful bite your failures – and hear the taunting of unachievable, uncaring God – I will whisper my name to you: 'Salieri: Patron Saint of Mediocrities!' And in the depth of your downcastness you can pray to me. And I will forgive you. Vi saluto."
and the final line: "Mediocrities everywhere – now and to come – I absolve you all. Amen!"
–Salieri (Amadeus, Peter Shaffer)
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word count walsegg
Commissioned Mozart's Requiem in order to pass it off as his own composition.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word morbid harmonies
"And never a good bang at the end of songs so you know when to clap!"
–Venticello 2 (Amadeus, Peter Shaffer)
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word waxworks
"Italians are fond of waxworks, Majesty. – Our religion is largely based upon them."
–Salieri (Amadeus, Peter Shaffer)
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word hairdresser vs hercules
Which of you isn't more at home with his hairdresser than Hercules? Or Horatius? Or your stupid Danaius, come to that! Or mine - mine! - Idomeneo, King of Crete! All those anguished antiques! They're all bores! Bores, bores, bores! Jumps on to a chair… All serious operas written this century are boring!
–Mozart (Amadeus, Peter Shaffer)
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word boudoir
Mozart wants to set his opera The Marriage of Figaro in a boudoir:
"Because I want to do a piece about real people, Baron! And I want to set it in a real place! A boudoir! – because that to me is the most exciting place on earth! Underclothes on the floor! Sheets still warm from a woman's body! Even a pisspot brimming under the bed!"
(Amadeus, Peter Shaffer)
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word coins of tenderness
See La Generosa.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word cat of the enlightenment
I love the opening to Act II of Amadeus:
SALIERI: I have been listening to the cats in the courtyard. They are all singing Rossini. It is obvious that cats have declined as badly as composers. Domenico Scarlatti owned one which would actually stroll across the keyboard and pick out passable subjects for fugue. But that was a Spanish cat of the Enlightenment. It appreciated counterpoint. Nowadays all cats appreciate are High Cs. Like the rest of the public.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word la generosa
Salieri has only one pick-up line. This is it.
It goes with coins of tenderness.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word capezzoli di venere
Nipples of Venus. Roman chestnuts in brandied sugar.
Constanze thinks they're "delish!".
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word sorbetto
Salieri likes aniseed; Constanze prefers tangerine.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word shit marble
"Gluck's talked all his life about modernizing opera, but creates people so lofty they sound as though they shit marble."
–Mozart (Amadeus, Peter Shaffer)
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word too many notes
Well. Supposedly Emperor Joseph said this to Mozart following the premiere of Abduction from the Seraglio. Will come back and comment further.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word cattivo
Catty, snarky?
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word fêtes and fireworks
Favourite expression of Emperor Joseph II of Austria (at least according to Peter Shaffer).
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word amadeus
"Loved by God" (Latin). See also theophilus and amadè.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word theophilus
"Loved by God" – the Greek form of the Latin "Amadeus"
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word chrysostomus
Joannes Chrysostumus – Mozart's saint's name at baptism. His birthday, 27 January, was also the feast day of St. John Chrysostom. This means that his birthday and saint's day (or "name day") coincided.
In Austria at this time one's name day was by far the more important, especially since many weren't entirely sure what their exact birthday was, but everybody had a saint's name.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word amadè
Mozart used this as his middle name, rather than Amadeus.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word voice of god
"It seemed to me I had heard a voice of God – and that it issued from a creature whose own voice I had also heard – and it was the voice of an obscene child!"
– Salieri (Amadeus, Peter Shaffer)
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word rusty squeezebox
Shaffer's moment of genius, capturing in words the effect of the magical opening of the Adagio from the Gran Partita (K.361).
"It started simple enough: just a pulse in the lowest registers - bassoons and basset horns - like a rusty squeezebox. It would have been comic except for the slowness, which gave it instead a sort of serenity. And then suddenly, high above it, sounded a single note on the oboe. We hear it It hung there unwavering – piercing me through – till breath could hold it no longer, and a clarinet withdrew it out of me, and sweetened it into a phrase of such delight it had me trembling. The light flickered in the room. My eyes clouded! The squeezebox groaned louder, and over it the higher instruments wailed and warbled, throwing lines of sound around me…"
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word crema al mascarpone
Cream cheese mixed with granulated sugar and suffused with rum.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word lord fugue
aka Baron van Swieten – librarian and very fond of old-fashioned (baroque) music
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word snow dumplings
…with pistachio sauce.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word invocation
All serious operas need one of these.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word ghosts of the future
Forget the fourth wall - that's us!
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word perdonami
Perdonami, Mozart! Il tuo assassino ti chiede perdono!
(Pardon your assassin!)
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word venticelli
The honour of first word on my Amadeus list goes to my favourite characters: the "Venticelli" (little winds), part gossips, part chorus - seen only in the play, since they are a very "stagey" creation.
April 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word volatus
umlauts in predictive text speak
April 18, 2008
frindley commented on the word momager
Mumager has the nice added connotation of rummager – how many times do you see the mother rummaging around in the bottom of capacious bag with one hand while trying to keep kiddie in line with the other?
April 18, 2008
frindley commented on the word obdurate
"And if you remain callous and obdurate, I
Shall perish as he did, and you will know why,
Though I probably shall not exclaim as I die,
'Oh, willow, titwillow, titwillow!'"
– from "On a tree by a river a little tom-tit"
(Sung by Ko-Ko in The Mikado)
April 18, 2008
frindley commented on the word eke
Can't argue with that. (Don't change one word of your poem, yarb, I'm just stuck in the olden days before male salmon!)
April 18, 2008
frindley commented on the list hats-off
There's the bearskin worn by the Grenadier guards at Buckingham Palace.
April 18, 2008
frindley commented on the word tawft
(There's a word for that?) Has potential to be a Wordie exclamation (with interrobang), as in "Tawft?!"
April 18, 2008
frindley commented on the word eke out
See eke.
April 18, 2008
frindley commented on the word eke
Idiom: "eke out a living", frequently misused to mean making a pretty poor living overall doing something that's badly paid, when in fact it refers to the making up of deficiencies. Merriam-Webster's example: "He eked out his income by getting a second job."
April 18, 2008
frindley commented on the list it-has-a-name
Exergue: a space on a coin, usually on the reverse below the central part of the design; frequently the location where the date is shown.
April 18, 2008
frindley commented on the word venez-y voir
Some German artists have adopted the phrase to refer to all things rococo here.
April 18, 2008
frindley commented on the word venez-y voir
"Come and see" – the equivalent of a fascinator for the ankles. Involved attaching emeralds to the back seam of one's shoes. (I've also heard of it in relation to stockings, in which case the emeralds are sewn to the back seam near the ankle.) Very fashionable in 18th-century France.
April 18, 2008
frindley commented on the word surf the web
My guess is it comes from channel surfing. Is this dumb for the same instinctive reasons (the terminology, that is, the act isn't under discussion)? Or is it only net surfing that is bothersome?
April 18, 2008
frindley commented on the word merry widow
The Merry Widow (operetta) was so wildly popular that the name was given to a whole bunch of things. In addition to the undies and the chapeau, there were Merry Widow chocolates, shoes and cigars – all unauthorised apparently. There was even a Merry Widow cocktail: 1 1/2 oz. each of Gin & Sweet Vermouth, with a dash each of Pernod & Bitters, served strained over ice and garnished with a lemon twist.
Merchandise clearly isn't a new concept in the performing arts.
April 18, 2008
frindley commented on the word tuque
The pom-pom is not deemed essential, although it greatly adds character.
My theory is that the pom-pom is more common in slightly less cold countries, but in countries where some kind of hooded jacket is required as well the pom-pom becomes much less common. My favourite beanie with its luxurious pom-pom became impossible to wear in an Ohio winter, for example. Ironically, I'd bought it in Canada.
April 17, 2008
frindley commented on the word tuque
No no no! This is a beanie!
;-)
April 17, 2008
frindley commented on the word miter
Does it become a mitre when it's on a bishop's head?
April 17, 2008
frindley commented on the word elevatoring
Now that was one scary story. Not so much because of the trauma of being trapped in a lift/elevator but the extent to which it changed the guy's life through the unwise decisions he made afterwards.
April 17, 2008
frindley commented on the list hats-off
Interesting. I must confess I took wikipedia as my democratic guide to preferred spelling on that one, but it seems others have been there before us, e.g. "Duncan" who reports:
So when I was preparing my previous post on an anti-Catholic sculpture, I encountered the eternal spelling conflict…
So I fire up the spell checker called Google. I Google mitre and get about 767,000 hits. I Google miter and get about 415,000 hits. I Google "bishop's mitre" and get about 1,560 hits. I Google "bishop's miter" and get about 741 hits.
The American Heritage dictionary (which I use for my modern dictionary) has the usual weasel words about mitre "Chiefly British -- Variant of miter." But then its entomology entry says:
Middle English mitre, from Old French, from Medieval Latin, from Latin mitra, headdress of the Jewish high priest, from Greek.]
This suggests that mitre is closer to the word origin.
The online Catholic Encyclopedia prefers mitre. The OED likes mitre as well. So I guess it's mitre for me.
end of extended quotation
April 17, 2008
frindley commented on the list hats-off
Great list! How about a bishop's mitre?
April 17, 2008
frindley commented on the word tudor bonnet
Ah…this is the one thing that would really motivate me to complete a doctorate (in a Commonwealth country anyway).
Much more appealing, and flattering, than a trencher or mortar-board, which succeeds only in leaving a nasty indentation on one's forehead.
April 17, 2008
frindley commented on the word winkee
And there is always the humble singlet. Bonds of course.
April 17, 2008
frindley commented on the word emmet's speech from the dock
You won't believe this: two nights ago a friend was playing me an old LP recording of this speech! (Not Emmet, of course, but the Irish actor Michael MacLiammoir.) It was amazing – such rhetorical craft. The delivery was pretty exquisite too. (The speech is about 15 minutes in the recording.)
April 17, 2008
frindley commented on the word deusexmachina
Ok, I'm taking a liberty here, the actual website for this "temple of enthusiasm" is www.deus.com.au. But the sign that I pass on Parramatta Road cleverly runs the words together.
God in the Machine? or just plain Sex Machine?
Fans might well say both.
April 16, 2008
frindley commented on the word www_penisland_com
I love the fact that they're plagued by imposters:
"Don't be fooled by those imposters at www.penisland.org, or www.pen-island.net, we're www.penisland.net the real deal!"
April 16, 2008
frindley commented on the word winkee
Interesting observation about the euphemistic names, chained_bear!
April 16, 2008
frindley commented on the word pantyhose
I alternate on a seasonal basis: tights are thick and usually opaque – winter wear. Stockings/pantyhose are sheer – summer wear.
April 16, 2008
frindley commented on the list university-of-sydney
You need the great hall, the half-finished cloisters and the jacaranda tree!
April 16, 2008
frindley commented on the word people come here to die
I wish that were the case for some of my neighbouring departments. In one area in particular we have had an extended case of people coming only to leave again in two months. Not helpful.
April 16, 2008
frindley commented on the word glebe
Sydney has an inner-city suburb called Glebe. In Hobart there's an area of the city (not sure if it's strictly a suburb) that's still known as The Glebe. Presumably both were actual parish glebes at some point.
April 16, 2008
frindley commented on the word wollongong
Name not my nemesis! That particular tennis player was the bane of my existence from kindergarten until third class.
I had quite forgotten about her nickname, which seems to have been completely taken over by the city, with such elegant coinings as the "Sydney to the Gong" charity bike ride.
April 16, 2008
frindley commented on the word wagga wagga
I think bilby's reduplikasi list got me thinking along these lines.
April 16, 2008
frindley commented on the word wollongong
Pronounced: woollen-gong
Can also be referred to as "the gong"
Lovely place, on the coast south of Sydney. Good university.
April 16, 2008
frindley commented on the word wee waa
Since I'm on a "wouble-u" place-names kick.
April 16, 2008
frindley commented on the word woy woy
Coastal suburb north of Sydney. Note: unlike Wagga Wagga, which can be called "Wagga", one never shortens Woy Woy to "Woy".
April 16, 2008
frindley commented on the word wagga wagga
Australian rural city, frequently referred to simply as "Wagga"; cf. Woy Woy.
April 16, 2008
frindley commented on the word winkee
The cleavage gapes, the entrepreneurial spirit rises, the mind boggles as only a mind can.
This had me giggling for several minutes. Please note that it makes men more productive in the workplace but does not cure the common cold.
April 16, 2008
frindley commented on the word www_crikey_com_au
By popular Ohio-an demand there is now a Facebook group for users of the word crikey!
April 16, 2008
frindley commented on the word crikey
See also www_crikey_com_au
April 16, 2008
frindley commented on the word www_crikey_com_au
Australian independent news site: "Crikey aims to bring its readers the inside word on what's really going on…".
It's quite an interesting site, but mainly I'm fond of the word – it makes the perfect polite exclamation and I believe I am responsible for a tiny band of adherents now using it in NE Ohio!
April 16, 2008
frindley commented on the word pantyhose
I know it's wrong, but I'm inclined to call them stockings and be done with it!
April 16, 2008
frindley commented on the word pant
Oh, I agree! I loathe the use of this word to indicate a single pair of pants. I see it in fashion journalism and retail: jacket $200, blouse $100, pant $150. But don't we all put our "pants" on in the morning, not our "pant"? (Pace dress and skirt wearers.)
April 16, 2008
frindley commented on the word googleganger
I'm also reminded that there are other similar constructions in English, where the portion of the original word chosen for creation of a new word is the "wrong" bit for the intended meaning. Why can I not think of any examples? If I could I would be able to make a list.
April 14, 2008
frindley commented on the word googleganger
Although it be all wrong, I do like the alliterative potential of googleganger when translated "google goer".
April 14, 2008
frindley commented on the word i could care less
Like the blog devoted to literally that alguien linked to? Or a single blog post?
April 14, 2008
frindley commented on the word tit-bag
A variant on tit-sling, which I vaguely recall hearing as the punch-line for a joke, years ago.
April 13, 2008
frindley commented on the list eggcorns
How about: old timers' disease
April 13, 2008
frindley commented on the list a-little-carrot-over-the-a
Hmm. Dredges memory. Something to do with spines at one point. The context suggested skeletons, so I thought perhaps not a bookbinder.
April 13, 2008
frindley commented on the list a-little-carrot-over-the-a
Thank you mollusque! In my line of work where we get more than a few European names, it's really helpful to be able to label these special letters and symbols. (As in, "Don't forget to put the bolle in Håkan Hardenberger and the hacek in Dvořák.") Those two had been bothering me.
April 13, 2008
frindley commented on the word entropy
"What's happening to your tea is happening to everything everywhere. The sun and the stars. It'll take a while but we're all going to end up at room temperature."
(Tom Stoppard, Arcadia)
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word forgetting curve
I am reminded of a lovely macabre word: oubliette.
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word learning curve
Plotting accumulated effort (or accumulated frustration or pterodactyl's stress levels) would certainly yield a graph where the difficult task has the steepest curve. But does it then cease to be a learning curve? – given that "learning" is meant to be about the accumulation of expertise rather than the accumulation of ulcers.
I'm going to go find my Latin dictionary now.
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the list fashion-colors
I did like /dalmation/ dalmatian though. This could be the new leopard.
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word brumdudgeon
Excellent!
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word pidgeon
Oops. Sorry. Udgeon not Idgeon...
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word smidgeon
I would usually spell this smidgin, but then it wouldn't fit in gangerh's list so well.
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word pidgeon
A simplified language for the birds.
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word singdudgeon
Courtesy gangerh (see humdudgeon).
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word smudgeon
As mother looms in with wetted handkerchief, the little one knows instantly that it has a smudgeon on its face.
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word pudgeonation
Oh, that word processing program isn't unknown, it's called Word 2007, and whoever invented the ribbon and created all those ghastly undeletable built-in style sheets should be tackled with a bludgeon.
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word mumdudgeon
The furious mother in passive-aggressive mode?
Or perhaps a passive-aggressive fury generally?
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word knee high dudgeon
Ha!
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word ho-humdudgeon
Moderate vengefulness, for when I can work up the energy.
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word gludgeon
But in which direction?
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word dudgeon
“I see thee still,
And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood,
Which was not so before.�?
(Macbeth)
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word budgeon
Tax time, eh?
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word circumbicycle
At 8 a.m. on April 22, 1884, Thomas Stevens pedaled out of San Francisco on a 50-inch penny-farthing bicycle. Four months and 3,700 miles later, he arrived in Boston.
That was just the start. The following April he boarded a steamer for Liverpool, cycled across Europe and through Turkey to Calcutta, sailed to Hong Kong, and cycled across Japan, arriving at Yokohama on Dec. 17, 1886.
Even allowing for the steamship passages, he estimates that he actually pedaled about 13,500 miles — and became the first person to "circumbicycle" the globe.
(From the Futility Closet)
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word venn diagram
A Venn diagram for Wordies!
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the list words-that-are-only-ever-used-ironically
Perhaps we need a list of positively defined words that have come to be used pejoratively (with or without a shift in meaning).
That might solve pterodactyl's conundrum regarding irony and its dependence on knowledge of a word's real meaning.
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the list words-that-are-only-ever-used-ironically
But does pejorative use of quaint actually require a change of meaning (strange, old-fashioned)?
The difference, as mollusque suggested re droll, is whether you like/approve of quaintness or not, and it emerges in tone of voice and context without implying a new meaning.
"While we were away we saw this quaint little cottage! It was so cute, I wanted to bring it home and put it in my garden and hire a hermit."
vs
"How quaint." Spoken with disdainful air and curled lip.
Whereas the usage pterodactyl cites for "droll" really does require the speaker to mean the opposite of the word itself.
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word valituskuoro
See complaints choir.
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word complaints choir
English translation of a Finnish word, valituskuoro, which is used when many people are complaining simultaneously.
An actual choir has been formed, which sings its own litany of complaints on YouTube.
(Nokia ringtone turns up at 2:18)
Since copied all around the world, but the Finnish effort remains the best.
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word meat ball state university
Oh I see. I was so hoping that there would be such a thing as a "meatball state", perhaps to go with "police state" and other similar terms.
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word lambs ear
The images don't do it justice: the foliage of this plant is a beautiful cool silvery pale green. Better still, the leaves are soft and furry to touch. As a fashion colour I would apply "lambs ear" to velvet!
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the list fashion-colors
More great colour names (although not necessarily ones that would find currency in the fashion world!) here.
And here for art colours.
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word drab
As a colour (Shorter OED):
A dull, light brown.
"Woe to white gowns! Woe to black! Drab was your only wear." (M.R. Mitford)
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word drab
Noun form (Shorter OED):
A dirty, untidy woman; a slut, a slattern
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word kelly green
The colour for which there is a three-year waiting list.
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word carnal knowledge bank
Clever!
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word meat ball state university
What is a meatball state?
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word learning curve
I may be misinterpreting: effort over time still gives me a steeper curve for the easier option.
Knowing me I'll be spending sleepless nights trying to think of a variable that, when plotted over time, will yield a steeper curve for the more difficult option. There must be something!
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word droll
Thinking of "droll" as a noun brings to mind the word drab as a noun.
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word learning curve
Spot on: strip appreciated very much. The next frame even better!
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the list words-that-are-only-ever-used-ironically
In my experience "droll" still means humorous or amusing. It's sometimes the case that the word is applied with a condescending tone, as if the speaker is acknowledging the humour but doesn't quite want to admit to finding it funny. (This, I think, is very different from using the word to mean boring, stupid or humourless.)
But mostly I hear it used (when I hear it used) to acknowledge what the Shorter OED calls dry, whimsical humour, odd or unexpected. And in that context it is perhaps the greatest compliment to describe such humour as "droll" rather than the more mundane and less accurate "funny".
I really don't recall hearing/reading the usage that pterodactyl describes. Perhaps I should get out more
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the list fashion-colors
I'm a summer-flowing-autumn. With the possible exception of rococo/rococco red, none of those Top 10 colours suit me at all!
Thanks for the Devil Wears Prada quote – that was a wonderful moment!
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word retail therapy
See also Die Schopfling
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word schopfling
Schopfling, fem. n., Germanical madeupical for use in English, a shopping spree
Backstory: OCR software back in the 90s, having trouble with the odd German title such as Die Schöpfung (aka The Creation, a big choral work by Haydn). This comes out as "Die Schopfling", which lodges in my mind as the perfect name for a retail therapy oratorio should I ever get around to writing one. Well, I never did, but "Schopfling" has become my preferred term for any generally entertaining (as opposed to routine and chore-like) shopping expedition.
Usage: "It's Thursday night, let's go on a Schopfling." OR "I need a new wardrobe, I feel an Ikea Schopfling coming on."
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the list fashion-colors
I wish I could find my other Talbots catalogue – they come up with some very amusing colours at times.
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word pierelle
Perhaps differentiated by the size of the ditch in question?
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word learning curve
But in summary: it does seem that all of us are agreed that:
(a) in daily use, "steep learning curve" suggests difficulty; and
(b) that this is because we hear the word steep and associate it with physical gradients and therefore challenges and difficulty.
It is a natural shift of meaning that has occurred because the proportion of cognitive psychologists in the language-using population is relatively low.
What I have learned today is that the man responsible for all this (Hermann Ebbinghaus) also developed a forgetting curve. Shall we head over there for more fun?
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word learning curve
If time is reintroduced to the databases example, it still demonstrates that one should avoid Microsoft at all costs, because at that crucial point 1 week into the learning process, expertise is considerably lower for Access than for Filemaker. That wouldn't be possible unless Filemaker had the steeper learning curve.
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word learning curve
mollusque's example is interesting. The initial stipulation that "You have to pick one, and learn enough to be productive within a week" effectively takes time out of the equation (and therefore the graph), because both things (in the example Filemaker and Access) are to be assessed within a common time frame and the assumption is equal learning time available to be devoted to each option.
The two axes for mollusque's curve are, therefore:
X - knowledge needed (it could be argued this equates with effort expended) ranging from none to a lot; and
Y - ability to be basically productive with the tool in the specified time frame (so not necessarily final expertise) ranging from not ready to good-enough-to-go.
When I plot Filemaker and Access on this graph the Filemaker curve is steeper than the Access curve. Or one could flip the axes and then Access would have the steeper curve.
But, and here's the rub, this isn't (I don't think…) what is meant by a learning curve. It's a smart way to think about what tool to pick when you have a goal to achieve in a specified time frame (especially relevant for databases and for website design tools), but it's ultimately about assessing the tool, not the learning process.
That's why I still think that the graph I linked to in an earlier comment (the one that plots expertise achieved over time/repetitions spent) is a better example of a learning curve.
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word learning curve
frindley doesn't like to brag about being female, for she is convinced that this is behind her rapid surmounting of all the steep learning curves she has ever come across. As for her occasional struggles with the flat ones? – a measly trajectory can always be blamed on someone or something else!
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word pierelle
The Wordie answer to international Sketch Crawl days?
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word ostinato
Peter Høeg's neatly accurate characterisation of bariolage in the same novel had me impressed. This is less clear. If he is saying that "all the sounds he heard" were coming together to create an ostinato according to musical definition then that makes sense.
But if (and this is how I interpreted it on first read) he is using "ostinato" to extend the idea of women's voices acquiring gravity after having children, then it makes no sense at all. Unless he is being wicked and making a subtle reference to the fact that women with children are more likely to have to repeat the same small things over and over, i.e. ostinato = nagging.
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word gaccade
Known in common parlance as double stopping (when you're playing on two strings at once), triple stopping and so on. But given the curve of the bridge, quadruple stopping isn't strictly possible unless one is using Emil Telmanyi's Bach bow, a very strange thing indeed.
Great word! I plan to test all my violin playing friends and see how many have actually heard or used it!
See bariolage for more fun.
April 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word olive green
Beautiful!
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the list a-little-carrot-over-the-a
Please, what is the proper name for the ø in Mørk?
And I second mollusque's question about the å. A Finnish colleague calls it "the Swedish a", but I'm sure it must have a proper name.
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word single ticket buyers
(STBs) As contrasted with subscribers or RSTBs (repeat single ticket buyers). Segmentation terminology used in describing the purchasing habits of performing arts audiences.
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word symphony product
Sorry sarra, should have explained. Here's a usage example from a job ad:
"The ideal candidate will have marketing experience and a knowledge of symphony product."
And another, made up but not atypical, verbal example:
"We need to make sure our marketing is positioning symphony product in a way that will appeal to STBs (single ticket buyers) as well as subscribers."
What seems to be wanted in the first instance is knowledge of orchestral (or symphonic) repertoire and classical music artists.
And in the second instance it's just a bizarre way of referring to live orchestral concerts.
In both cases it's an attempt to force a performing art form into the jargon of the marketing profession, perhaps in an attempt to appeal to other marketers (but not necessarily music lovers). It makes me cringe and I rail against its use, with some success. ;-)
It is wonderfully cathartic and pleasurable, therefore, to observe fellow Wordies simply take the phrase and have fun with it in their own way!
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word learning curve
There were no learning curves that I could find, but over at Indexed Jessica Hagy has some great graphs and diagrams.
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word learning curve
Here be diagrams
In the above example the X axis is reps rather than time, but since repetition occurs over time, it's the same thing. The Y axis is defined as expertise, what I would call progress.
Of course, the common misconception is natural enough, because we're inclined to associate steepness with difficulty.
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word symphony product
Mendelssohn did, however, write a dozen or so string symphonies. Surely these could count also?
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the list the-state-that-i-am-in
Read Umberto Eco's essay on his attempts to replace his Italian drivers license. To be found in the altogether hilarious How to Travel with a Salmon.
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word direct reports
As in "I will only talk to my…"
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word powerpoint pack
A substitute for the thinking through and imaginative presentation of coherent ideas.
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word musics
I intensely dislike the pluralisation of "music" – a habit most commonly found in academia. So it is with some amusement that I contemplate the last two of the definitions above, both of which refer to punishment.
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word sleep
What was that again?
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word wip
A meeting to discuss work in progress. Too many wips spoil the broth.
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word learnings
frindley quietly chokes on her learnings
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word make the logo bigger
Find the song and lyrics here.
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word orangery
When I get my library (completely lined with floor to ceiling bookshelves, even over the door and windows, and provided with one of those nifty sliding library ladders) I would like an orangery to go with it.
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word ampersand
There is nothing, simply nothing, better than messing about with ampersands. I love this character nearly as much as I love the letter Q.
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word collybist
Indeed it does!
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word typology
A typology of Wordies might begin by looking at the propensity for listing versus contribution of citations.
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word abridged ellipsis
Really? In what context?
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word doggy bag
And this is where the time difference gets me – no slow morning here, alas.
;-)
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word outback
It simply doesn't exist, not even in the Antipodes. Sydney has the prettiest concert hall but Perth's sounds the best; Melbourne and Sydney's orchestras rival each other, as do their universities and their theatre companies; Sydney's harbour wins hands down, while Hobart has one of the best stationery shops, as well as (I nearly forgot) a royal tennis court!!!!
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word learning curve
Counterintuitive it may seem, but the steep learning curve – assuming that the curve is agreed to be a graph of progress (Y axis) and time (X axis) – means that the thing has been very easy to learn indeed, as progress occurs rapidly.
However common usage implies that a steep learning curve represents difficulty and great challenges. The only way this would be possible is if time were plotted on the (Y axis), which would go against all graphing conventions.
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word unique selling proposition
aka the USP
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word abridged ellipsis
A curious form of punctuation – neither a period nor an ellipsis, but comprising two dots thus..
Conveys uncertainty, carelessness and confusion as well as irritating the life out of any editor within email range..
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word symphony product
Ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh – for soooo many reasons. People who seriously adopt this term clearly don't actually like orchestral music or feel any connection with it.
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word birging
Needs to be written BIRGing, as in "basking in reflected glory".
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the list weasel-words
See also weasel words and
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word business as usual
Even worse when casually tossed off as "B.A.U."
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word thus poke zarathustra
Richard is Strauss. Stanley is Kubrick.
Kubrick used the beginning of Strauss's Thus Spake Zarathustra in his 2001 – A Space Odyssey. In doing so he demonstrated excellent judgement, because that opening minute or so is by far the strongest part of the piece. Kubrick further confirmed his good taste by launching into the Blue Danube, by the other Strauss.
Which reminds me of the unkind quip: If Richard then Wagner, if Strauss then Johann. Forget who said that, but it must have really irked RS.
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word dollars and cents
Australian term for a variation on hundreds and thousands, known elsewhere under the generic term sprinkles.
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word hundreds and thousands
In Australia hundreds and thousands are small (1 to 2mm in diameter), spherical, and coloured (e.g. red, blue, yellow, orange, pink, green...), but not metallic.
Sprinkles is a close equivalent, but not exact, because it appears from Google Images that "sprinkles" can also refer to the cylindrical (vermicelli) variation (about 1mm diameter, 2 to 3mm long). In Australia those would be called dollars and cents. Or at least they were when I was a kid.
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the list the-venereal-vault
Ah, you remind me of hours of pleasure spent with James Lipton's An Exaltation of Larks.
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word doggy bag
'Surely that backward plural construction requires a noun-adjective sequence in the original phrase (e.g. governors general)?' asks frindley with unnecessary earnestness.
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word handel's organ works
Or so the graffiti claimed. Clearly toilet graffiti artists are not above carrying out intricate musicological research in the spirit of truth and revelation.
Then some wag came along and wrote "so does mine" underneath.
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word organ recital
No, not that. Rather, a lengthy and detailed discussion of illnesses, medical procedures and the status of various bodily functions.
Not to be confused with the more amusing Handel's organ works.
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the word colopexy
Your colleagues are participating in what I believe is known as an 'organ recital'.
April 11, 2008
frindley commented on the user pterodactyl
Those pronunciation maps are fantastic. Thanks for the links!
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word gridiron
It has been said that just as Australia has all the weirdest animals in the world, so North America has all the weirdest sports.
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word gridiron
Christ Church St Laurence in Sydney is sometimes jocularly referred to as "Christ Church St Barbeque".
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word miscellaneous
Never, but never, have a file called "Miscellaneous".
This principle was taught to me by a New England Patriots fan who also managed to bring me ’round to the idea that gridiron isn't necessarily the silliest game in the world.
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word zymurgy
I was introduced to this wonderful word by a colleague in Cleveland. Alcohol, of course, is not the only thing that broods away – brewing, bubbling and generally fermenting. Ideas do that too. And so, like my colleague, I now have an email folder called Zymurgy and a computer file folder called Zymurgy. Sure beats "Miscellaneous". Better still, it always sits neatly at the bottom of any alphabetically sorted list!
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word colophon
A word of beauty to a typography nerd.
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word thus poke zarathustra
But the pyneapple is a Queensland fruit, while I am assuredly New South Welsh. Cahootion would be quite impossible!
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word phthalo green
See also phthalocyanine green
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word phthalocyanine green
See also phthalo green
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word lumbering food-sucking draft animal
Ah. So are you saying that if I'd put food in the doggie bag instead of the candles and the napkin holders I might have found it all the more appetising the next day?
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word cooee
Being "within cooee" of something – being within calling distance, close.
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word outback
See, I would want the impossible: the wide open spaces and harsh beauty of the outback, but within cooee of an excellent concert hall, a fine orchestra, several theatre companies and at least two dance companies, with an art museum, a natural history museum, a university with lots of nice neo-Gothic sandstone, a glittering harbour and a really impressive stationery store. I could give the opera company a miss, I guess.
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word till eulenspiegel's gay tricks
Both sound a bit twee in the 21st century. "Irreverent and subversive escapades" seems truer to the actual events of the scenario!
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word lumbering food-sucking draft animal
Well, I guess serving size helps justify a certain price point or gives the impression of better value or something. I wouldn't have minded so much, except I could never face eating the contents of the doggie bag the next day, so it really was a waste. Whereas some of my friends had the two-meals-for-the-price-of-one thing down to a fine art.
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word italian dressing
It's the hefty price one pays for being such an advanced civilisation. Ahem.
;-)
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the list the-herbalist
There is a book on aromatherapy by Valerie Ann Worwood. I have often suspected this to be a nom de plume.
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word that's what zarathustra said
Also sprach Zarathustra
Orchestral tone poem by Richard Strauss, the beginning of which is used in 2001 – A Space Odyssey.
More usually translated: "Thus Spake Zarathustra"
See also thus poke zarathustra
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word till eulenspiegel's gay tricks
Till Eulenspiegels lustige Streiche
another orchestral tone poem by Richard Strauss
Normally translated as "Till Eulenspiegel's Merry Pranks"
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word and that's what zarathustra said
Actually, this shouldn't have the conjunction up front. It shouldn't have a conjunction anywhere. See that's what zarathustra said and curse my carelessness.
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word the flashes
Les illuminations
Benjamin Britten's song cycle for high voice and strings, setting poetry by Rimbaud.
Usually left untranslated in English-speaking countries.
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word italian dressing
(We can also tell the time by squinting at the sun – it's the hole in the ozone layer that lets us do it.)
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word thus poke zarathustra
Zarathustra has poked Friedrich
Zarathustra has high-fived the Übermensch
Zarathustra has thrown a sheep at Richard
Zarathustra has slapped Stanley
Poke your friends | Mass poke!
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word hoon
Occasionally metaphorical, as in "I'm just going to hoon around the supermarket".
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word lairy
And without doubt he would also be a hoon. And would chuck u-ies!
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word how to rend a book
Aha!
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word lumbering food-sucking draft animal
Not clear where this phrase is going, but to follow the thread of conversation: Australians are indeed enjoying an aspirational spate of obesity it would seem. But in my experience it is still possible to go to most restaurants here and receive a normal-sized serving that can more or less be finished by the diner while he or she is there. When in the States I was appalled by the amount of food that was wasted because I could rarely finish more than half of what was served to me.
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word outback
I'll second bilby: the Australian outback is amazing to contemplate. But I'll be more distressed if I don't make it to Tallinn before I die.
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word pavlova
Yes, she was safe while she stuck with The Dying Swan (music, Saint-Saëns) but when she began dancing The Dying Kiwi (music, Douglas Lilburn) it was all over!
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word kiwifruit
Compulsory on a pavlova
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word lairy
A wonderful, richly endowed slang word. It has various useful meanings in Britain, but Down Under it is almost exclusively called upon as an adjective meaning: 1. exhibitionistic; flashy. 2. vulgar. (Macquarie Dictionary)
frindley to new American friend: "Do you remember a few years back when Apple came out with computers in a whole bunch of lairy colours?"
American friend: "What does lairy mean?" (and after explanation) "Ah, so my husband wears lairy pants!"
(Indeed he did, loud checked ones!)
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word gala
See galah for further pronunciation notes.
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word galah
In Australian lingo "galah" is also often adopted as a mock pronunciation for gala, which we would otherwise pronounce GAH-luh. (We never say GAY-luh.)
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word outback
Also embarrassing restaurant chain whose menu once prompted frindley to write to the management in disgust. What? No pavlova?!
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word pavlova
Mmmm. Pavlova. Obligatory decoration: slices of kiwifruit and passionfruit pulp.
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word italian dressing
Much in the same way that nothing offered in American "Outback" restaurants even vaguely resembles Australian food. For example, the dessert menu (even in their two Australian restaurants, now there's a daft move) includes pecan brownie and New York cheesecake as well as a cinnamon, apple and pecan ice cream thing. When everyone knows that Australians eat pavlova for pudding!
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word how to rend a book
She sells shelffuls by the book store.
(Need a nice sibilant word for "book" but can't think of one just now.)
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word tarantula
See tarantella for antidote.
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word tarantella
This dance is also a cure for the bite of the tarantula, so the legend goes.
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word a dull house
The charming, innocent Nora takes three acts to flee the morbid boredom of her existence and join a strolling tarantella troupe.
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word how to rend a book
Shelves full?
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word grimms mädchen
And you thought the fairytales were twisted?
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word the turn of the shrew
Kate finally gets her chance to follow in her sister's footsteps. Will being a governess calm her unruly spirit?
April 10, 2008
frindley commented on the word how to rend a book
Includes a series of strength-building exercises for the wrists.
April 9, 2008
frindley commented on the word charlotte's wed
E.B. White's sequel to the beloved children's classic begins with some exciting news!
April 9, 2008
frindley commented on the word sloughing towards bethlehem
Essays on exfoliation in the new journalistic style.
April 9, 2008
frindley commented on the list it-has-a-name
skelf (courtesy OED WOTD): A sliver or splinter, usu. of wood, esp. one lodged in the skin.
To be honest, I would have called that a splinter, although I see some point in it being a splinter that has lodged in the skin, as opposed to a free-range or recently removed splinter.
April 9, 2008
frindley commented on the word pang
This is the word used for a gunshot in my German translation of a Tin Tin story (Der blaue Lotos).
April 8, 2008
frindley commented on the word misled
Trivet: your onyx experience reminds me of my attempts to swot up on pop culture when I was about 11 or 12 (I thought having friends would be fun, and classical music nerd that I was, this was my strategy). True to form, I read a lot; I also listened to the right radio stations. But all this was done alone and not all the connections were made. Hence I came away concluding that there was a band called "In Excess" and another band called INXS (which I pronounced "inks"). Just how I managed to avoid wholesale humiliation, I don't know. Must have realised in the nick of time!
April 7, 2008
frindley commented on the word misled
See awry for a similar pronunciation debacle.
April 7, 2008
frindley commented on the word peen
That's quite possible; it's years since my dad taught me all this stuff. And the thing that makes me think you're right is that one of the hammers was the "ball pein" hammer (yes, different spelling), which had a rounded, mushroomy striking surface opposite the regular flat one. And then there was the "claw hammer", which was much better at removing nails. I have probably been misled by the name of the ball pein hammer into thinking that peins/peens are by definition rounded.
April 7, 2008
frindley commented on the word ejaculation
"Mrs Bennett's random ejaculations."
Mrs Anderson during a Year 10 discussion of Pride and Prejudice.
April 6, 2008
frindley commented on the word oz
This may be apocryphal, but I read once that Mr Baum came up with "Oz" as he was improvising the stories for his children. He was trying to think of a name for this magical land when his eyes landed on a two-drawer filing cabinet: A–N and O–Z.
April 6, 2008
frindley commented on the word u-ie
As in "chuck a u-ie".
April 6, 2008
frindley commented on the word barbie
Aussie slang for barbeque (BBQ)
April 6, 2008
frindley commented on the word rotring 600 extra-fine fountain pen loaded with emerald green ink
I refuse to proofread with anything else.
April 6, 2008
frindley commented on the word pod
A style of open-plan office. Following on from the cube farm (and in no way an improvement on it), the pod features low partitions (accidental eye-contact with neighbours becomes possible and effectiveness as a noise barrier is reduced to a minimum), no privacy and next to no storage space. Bookshelves are a luxury accorded only to those whose portion of the pod happens to abut a supporting wall.
Etymology: viewed from above, workers bear a striking resemblance to peas in a pod.
April 6, 2008
frindley commented on the word irises
Irises, always irises, and nothing but irises. My signature flower.
Their statuesque beauty also offers a modicum of privacy in that hellish office invention, the pod (a schlimmbesserung on the cube farm).
April 6, 2008
frindley commented on the word keep calm and carry on mug
Not so much strange as necessary, for a time.
Phrase and design taken from a WWII poster.
April 6, 2008
frindley commented on the word apocope
Preferred rhetorical device of the Aussies, e.g. barbie for barbeque (or "barbecue" if you must).
April 6, 2008
frindley commented on the word ikea
My friends in Europe say ee-KAY-uh rather than eye-KEE-uh. I like that.
April 6, 2008
frindley commented on the word twist
Noun. Thread for sewing, or a measure of embroidery thread. (See no more twist)
April 6, 2008
frindley commented on the word no more twist
"...I am undone and worn to a thread-paper, for I have no more twist."
The Tailor of Gloucester (Beatrix Potter)
April 6, 2008
frindley commented on the word magic pudding
"Onions, bunions, corns and crabs,
Whiskers, wheels and hansom cabs,
Beef and bottles, beer and bones,
Give him a feed and end his groans."
(Norman Lindsay)
The Magic Pudding's first words.
April 6, 2008
frindley commented on the word yellow peril
Ah yes. Not even fun to climb on.
April 6, 2008
frindley commented on the word miserabubble
An extended variant of this word also crops up in Anna Russell's jazz spoof Miserable.
April 6, 2008
frindley commented on the word animoil
As in "Wombat! You wicked animoil!" (A favourite saying of Mouse, who was the sensible one.)
April 6, 2008
frindley commented on the word liripipe
And, providing you can read Finnish, a pattern and instructions for making your own.
April 6, 2008
frindley commented on the word pipsqueak
In the lingo from my neck of the woods: someone who is not only small and puny but also annoying and perhaps a little big for the proverbial boots. Often used in the tautological playground insult: "little pipsqueak."
April 6, 2008
frindley commented on the word peen
Unless it's a claw hammer…
April 6, 2008
frindley commented on the word earwax
See cerumen.
April 6, 2008
frindley commented on the word cerumen
One of the primary ingredients of earwax is cholesterol. Indeed, I read somewhere that earwax represents the highest concentration of cholesterol anywhere in the body. Is this at all comforting to those who have been told to reduce their cholesterol levels, I wonder? Probably not.
April 6, 2008
frindley commented on the word vocalese
A specialist jazz variant of vocalise. Vocalese is the setting of lyrics to instrumental solos. Kurt Elling, among others, does this.
April 6, 2008
frindley commented on the word yellow peril
See Giuseppe Concone and his books of vocal studies.
And in slang, they say, a traffic warden (Britain) and a school bus (Quebec).
The older (late-19th and early-20th-century) usage is far less attractive. Ok, positively racist.
April 6, 2008
frindley commented on the word concone
The singing student's shorthand for referring to Giuseppe Concone's book of vocal lessons. Most people seem to acquire this in the infamous yellow-covered edition published by Schirmer (pictured above, if the random image selection stays true to form), leading to its other nickname: The Yellow Peril.
April 6, 2008
frindley commented on the word texting
The OED offers a reminder that, in addition to sending SMS messages from one mobile to another, this noun also refers to "the alignment of notes with syllables in notations of vocal music; the relationship of notes and syllables in a vocal performance". A(n) historical usage that I hadn't encountered before.
An example: The texting of the verse-melisma uses acclamatory wording to reflect the repetitive aspects of the melodic figuration. (R. Crocker & D. Hiley Early Middle Ages to 1300 vii. 246)
April 6, 2008
frindley commented on the word jabberwocky
Here there be a link to an ever-growing list of translations of this marvellous poem. Everything from Afrikaans to Yiddish, and not neglecting Esperanto, Latin and Klingon.
April 6, 2008
frindley commented on the list redeem-brownie-points-here
It would seem that Australian Brownie Guide Sixes are now named after various Australian flora and fauna and there are many more possible names. The seven pixie names of old (with their vaguely Aboriginal character) have been deemed "extinct" or at least retired and defunct.
April 5, 2008
frindley commented on the list redeem-brownie-points-here
The pictures loading for Moora Mooras are representations of the old Six badges. Here's another link to a set of images that will make former Aussie Brownies feel nostalgic.
Memories of Brownies
April 5, 2008
frindley commented on the word lalagullis
Lallagullis were pixies in the Australian Brownie Guide mythology and this was a common name for Sixes.
"Lalagullis are graceful, laughing water nymphs who help the streams and lakes to keep all things clean and bright. They see that the water-lilies and other water plants are refreshed with the clear, cool water. Their particular delight is to watch over the sleek, shiny platypus babies as they tumble and play in the sparkling waterways." (The Australian Brownie Guide Handbook, 1975)
April 5, 2008
frindley commented on the word moora mooras
Moora Mooras were pixies in the Australian Brownie Guide mythology and this was a common name for Sixes.
"The Moora Mooras are the good fairies who help all the creatures in the bush. Perhaps a bird has injured its wing; they bandage it and look after the little bird until it is better. They especially watch out for baby kangaroos who might have fallen out of their mother's pouch." (The Australian Brownie Guide Handbook. 1975)
April 5, 2008
frindley commented on the word junjarins
Junjarins were pixies in the Australian Brownie Guide mythology and this was a common name for Sixes. "Junjarins are good spirits and are the hardest working spirits in the bush. They make sure that the sick and helpless creatures have food, water and shelter. Their favourite job is to watch over the trees and flowers in the bush. They love helping the wildflower to open their petals and baby ferns to uncurl their light little fronds. Their grins are so bright, they are often taken for the rising sun." (The Australian Brownie Guide Handbook, 1975)
April 5, 2008
frindley commented on the word tintookies
Tintookies were pixies in the Australian Brownie Guide mythology and this was a common name for Sixes.
"Tintookies are ground-dwelling spirits. They are extremely inquisitive, but their special interest is helping to make wishes come true when deserved. Nobody has ever seen a Tintookie, as they do their good deeds by stealth." (The Australian Brownie Guide Handbook, 1975)
April 5, 2008
frindley commented on the word mediæval
I must respectfully bow out of the discussion. While I know plenty about typography and something about linguistics and phonetics, I know zilch about Italian other than my exposure to musical Italian, which, of course, has very little with real Italian to do!
April 5, 2008
frindley commented on the word brownie point
I was a Brownie for a brief period, and I've always associated brownie points with the doing of good deeds generally. It went with the Brownie Guide law: A Brownie Guide thinks of others before herself and does a good turn every day. (Not to mention the motto: Lend a hand.)
The badges were another matter and very much skills based, so you might earn a badge for demonstrating an active skill such as map reading, or a creative skill such as dancing, or a domestic skill such as knowing how to wash and dry cutlery correctly (I jest not, and this may explain the "brief period" of my membership).
April 5, 2008
frindley commented on the word running bull market
Inspired by bilby's much cuter teddy bear market
April 4, 2008
frindley commented on the word mediæval
I was just playing around – I think you're right that Italian doesn't make use of ligatures to represent diphthongs. And it looks as if Italian may have dropped the "o" anyway (at least in my Collins Pocket).
Not sure I would describe the pairs of vowels in bianco and viola as diphthongs, as the letters belong to separate syllables. Diphthongs are the kinds of "moving" vowels that you get within a syllable, e.g. fair (eh-uh or ɛə), place (eh-ee or eɪ), tour (oo-uh or uə). As I understand it, Italian is a language of pure vowels (or is that just the musician-singer in me emerging?) and so never uses the diphthongs that you'll hear in English.
These points taken together could lead to the conclusion that Italian orthography doesn't employ ligatures for diphthongs because phonetically the language doesn't feature diphthongs.
April 4, 2008
frindley commented on the word mediæval
Or would that be mediœvale?
April 4, 2008
frindley commented on the word marinate
I have always regarded this word as a logical companion to vegetate. So where slacking around doing nothing on land is vegetating, slacking around frolicking in the pool (or other body of water) would be marinating.
April 3, 2008
frindley commented on the list australian-fauna
How can you not love a country that boasts more poisonous snakes, spiders and other creatures than any other nation?
April 2, 2008
frindley commented on the word frindle
I'm a writer, a calligrapher and a frindley, so of course I think Andrew Clements was experiencing a moment of sheer genius when he invented this word for pen. I was rooting for Nicholas Allen* all the way. And yes, I've been given several copies of Frindle over the years — I guess it seems the logical thing to do (and it is a very satisfying yarn).
*clearly a Wordie-in-the-making
April 2, 2008
frindley commented on the word hausfrau
I love the way the syllables rhyme. So much more satisfying than housewife.
April 2, 2008
frindley commented on the word apocryphal
Within the Protestant church at least the Apocryphal books were/are considered edifying (i.e. "profitable and good to read") but not part of the canon for the establishment of church doctrine.
Luther, after all, considered the books worth the trouble of translating into German but, as I understand it, he rejected them as part of the canon because they contained useful defenses for such doctrines as purgatory and the saying of masses for the dead.
The quotation prefaces the Apocrypha in Luther's translation.
April 2, 2008
frindley commented on the word clerestory
The Macquarie Dictionary online gives the etymology as:
cler- clear + French estoré built
Perhaps there's some Latin in the "cler" part if one goes back far enough (clarus?).
April 2, 2008
frindley commented on the word features
Ditto bilby! I thought to myself, how can Wordie misjudge so? And then I realised that it was still 1 April in some parts of the world.
April 2, 2008
frindley commented on the word letter
In Robert Graves' I, Claudius this saying is attributed to a Roman whose name I can't recall. (And alas I don't own a copy of the book.)
April 1, 2008
frindley commented on the word hyperlink
Oh, yes!! (Simple pleasures...)
April 1, 2008
frindley commented on the word hyperlink
Question is, muses frindley, can I make one?
April 1, 2008
frindley commented on the word moue
My French dictionary gives the pronunciation as:
mu
where the /u/ is the kind of sound you get in fou.
As I understand it the vowel is placed very forward in the mouth (not back as in the English moo) and with somewhat pursed or pouting lips.
Almost like a less extreme version of the contortions that teenage girls make when they go eeeeeewh!
April 1, 2008
frindley commented on the word flutist
If a player of the lute is a lutenist and a maker of lutes a luthier, why oh why can't us flute players be flutenists and the makers of our instruments fluthiers?
April 1, 2008
frindley commented on the word floutist
Must be very old indeed. As a serious flutist/flautist/flute player I've never come across such a thing. Unless you count the occasional mispronunciation of "flautist".
April 1, 2008
frindley commented on the word programme
Being neither British nor American I am glad to be in a position to opt for program as my preferred spelling.
My recollection (from once delving into the several pages devoted to it in the 20-volume OED) is that the "programme" spelling is relatively new in Britain — one of those examples of a 19th-century adoption of a French-ified spelling in an attempt to appear more refined.
The fake Italianate flautist is another such word. (And what is it that you do to floors?)
April 1, 2008
frindley commented on the word practise
An instance where something is lost in the American spelling system.
I do like that I can make a distinction between practice (noun) and practise (verb). And the trick I learned as a kid was that the noun form ended with a noun (ice!).
April 1, 2008
frindley commented on the word decimate
Hmm, the original meaning you give for dilapidate (taking apart of stones) is nonetheless close in spirit to the idea of decay and ruin, although it's true that the activity involved has shifted from deliberate action to mere neglect.
Whereas the shift in meaning for decimate represents a complete turnaround, from the killing of 10 per cent to the killing of "90 per cent". That's no doubt the reason why the shift bothers bilby's 5 per cent. (That would be pomegranate, me, and how many other people?)
In my case, as a good former linguistics student, I accept and respect the shift in common usage. But what happens in practice is that I don't feel I can use the word at all. It's not even like nice where one can, on occasion, make a nice distinction just for fun.
April 1, 2008
frindley commented on the word moue
Saying moue results in one's face assuming a moue. There has to be a word for that, a physical variant of aural onomatopoeia.
April 1, 2008
frindley commented on the word onomatopoeia
If onomatopoeia is using words that imitate the sound they denote, then what is the word for words that make you look like the appearance they denote when you say them, e.g. moue, that special kind of disdainful French pout.
April 1, 2008
frindley commented on the word awry
Had a boyfriend once who pronounced this AWE-ree instead of uh-RYE. Kind of cute really.
April 1, 2008
frindley commented on the word clerestory
One of those words that tends to be discovered in reading rather than in conversation. So for many years I thought it was pronounced cle-RES-tor-y (four syllables, stress on the second). Had a frustrating (’cause I lost) argument with my first boyfriend who, of course, pronounced it clear-story as it should be. But when it came to awry I won and all was well again.
April 1, 2008
frindley commented on the word sleep
Must get off wordie and get some!
April 1, 2008
frindley commented on the word apocryphal
"Apocrypha — that is, books which are not regarded as equal to the holy Scriptures, and yet are profitable and good to read."
Martin Luther
April 1, 2008
frindley commented on the word wit
John Donne: in whom wit is truth.
March 31, 2008
frindley commented on the word soporific
Beatrix Potter's use of soporific is also invoked in Margaret Edson's excellent play W;t. (Also a film, the clever typography is meant to come out as Wit.)
March 31, 2008
frindley commented on the word soporific
I always bring out the Beatrix Potter quote as evidence that it is possible to nurture wordie-ness even in the very young. This is one of the very earliest books I remember reading. And even then I "got" what she was trying to do to my vocabulary, and I've been using the word ever since.
March 31, 2008
frindley commented on the word minuet
The stately part of the official definition is misleading: a characteristic that the minuet acquired in the 19th century after everybody had stopped dancing it. The problem is most people of later periods, thinking of the minuet as graceful, have also assumed that it was slow, when in fact it was recommended that it be "played springily" (Johann Joachim Quantz, 1788).
March 31, 2008
frindley commented on the word captaingog (abstaining)
Abstaining comes out as captaingog in predictive text speak.
March 31, 2008
frindley commented on the word insipi
impish in predictive text speak
March 31, 2008
frindley commented on the word desire path
A term in landscape architecture used to describe a path that isn't designed but rather is worn casually away by people finding the shortest distance between two points.
http://bblinks.blogspot.com/2008/03/phrase-of-day-desire-path.html
March 31, 2008
frindley commented on the word pedants corner
Must admit: Ped'ants Corner does have a certain appeal.
March 31, 2008
frindley commented on the word squiz
Australian and New Zealand slang - a quick look, as in:
"I won't have time to proofread it, but I'll take a squiz at it now and see if there's anything glaring."
Shorter OED says it's most likely a blend of quiz and squint. The New Partridge Dictionary of Slang and Unconventional English agrees with the Antipodean connection but gives "British dialect (Devon)" as the source.
March 30, 2008
frindley commented on the word apostrophe
Remember always to use an apostrophe (not an open quote mark) when it appears at the beginning of a word, e.g. ’cause (for because) and ’60s rather than ‘cause and ‘60s.
Alas, the evil microsoft delights in making unsolicited corrections.
March 30, 2008
frindley commented on the word sangwich
On the other hand, "sanger" is perfectly good Aussie slang (aka ’Strine) for sandwich.
March 30, 2008
frindley commented on the list why-can-t-people-pronounce-these-properly
1. fillum (for film)
2. using "ink" in words that should end in "ing", e.g. "anythink"
My experience of "guesstimate", however, is that it's used knowingly and deliberately as a semi-humorous device, not out of ignorance or carelessness.
March 30, 2008
frindley commented on the word bathroom
When I was living in the States I had to learn to use this word instead of toilet, which drew stares and raised eyebrows in polite company, despite being perfectly acceptable in my homeland. Then I had to unlearn it three years later, lest I be thought prissy.
March 30, 2008
frindley commented on the word get
Australians are taught to avoid this word at all costs. I remember a teacher in primary school telling me there was no sentence where the word "get" couldn't be replaced by an alternative (implication: superior) word. Being something of a smart-ass, I responded by writing a sentence about the word, making "get" necessary.
Of course, she was simply urging her students to broaden their vocabularies and, more important, seek out powerful and specific verbs. Good on her!
(See also Aussie prejudices re gotten.)
March 30, 2008
frindley commented on the word gotten
Australians are taught to regard this as "wrong" or "ungrammatical" or as an informal/slangy US usage. As a result relatively few realise that (a) it is acceptable and normal in the US and that (b) it is actually very old. ’Tis ironic given that the word parallels with a whole lot of other words that we do use, such as "driven" and "written", not to mention "shown".
I'm quite fond of "gotten", but to give the Antipodean response to jennarenn's question, Aussies would most likely eschew the get verb altogether (another legacy of the education system) and say:
"We had just arrived when..."
March 30, 2008
frindley commented on the word erinaceous
A parallel here with phascolomian and wombastic.
March 30, 2008
frindley commented on the word pedants corner
Indeed it does (invite unleashing), and I'm not at all unsympathetic! In this case I am - as is probably evident - driven by pragmatism more than anything else. But I am also very pleased to announce that my particular corner has just recently become a true pedants' corner.
Not unrelated are all those church and place names that have come to assorted conclusions about the possessive. For example: in the Blue Mountains west of Sydney there is a spectacular lookout named after William Govett: Govetts Leap (no apostrophe). And no, he didn't jump, he just surveyed the spot (a "leap" apparently is a Cumbrian word for waterfall).
March 30, 2008
frindley commented on the word apercus
No cedilla for aperçus??
March 30, 2008
frindley commented on the word pedant
See also pedants corner.
March 30, 2008
frindley commented on the word pedants corner
This is the location in the office where reside the knowledge workers who care about language, accuracy and truth and who know their subject matter inside out. It is friendly rather than pejorative, and unless the residents turn into grammar nazis they are likely to be regarded with fondness.
There is no apostrophe: it is more a "corner of pedants"* or a corner where the pedants may be found than a corner that belongs to the pedants. This also allows the phrase to accommodate the possibility of one pedant or many, depending on the company or organisation in question.
*almost a collective noun?
Murphy's note: the pedant is most likely to be embarrassed by the hasty typing of pendant, itself an interesting word.
March 30, 2008
frindley commented on the word facebook
A word about linking to Facebook from your wordie profile. The "username" needs to be the ID number that you see at the end of the URL when you are on your Facebook profile page.
(Putting in your real Facebook name or a pseudonym will just result in a click-through to the Facebook Home page, not your profile.)
March 30, 2008
frindley commented on the word lallazione
This, however, is also one of the more general meanings for lallation: "gibberish resembling the sounds of a baby"
March 30, 2008
frindley commented on the word catty corner
Would this give us by extension cattypoint and cattyclockwise?
March 30, 2008
frindley commented on the word game
A simple online game that could keep a wordie amused for hours, and which might be a good deal more interesting if more wordies were playing it. Check out Human Brain Cloud here:
http://www.humanbraincloud.com/
March 23, 2008
frindley commented on the word sagbutt
An alternative, and rather more entertaining spelling for the sackbut, an elderly trombone.
March 19, 2008
frindley commented on the list the-worshipful-company-of-haberdashers
You have inspired me to begin a list called "His Majesty's Cornetts and Sagbutts"
March 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word twitter
A leading lexicographer uses twitter almost exclusively as a simple "word of the day" catcher. It's pretty cool. You can follow her (emckean) or, if using a mobile or IM, just track wotd to get her posts and a bunch from other people who are doing the same thing. If you send your wotd to twitter preface it with "wotd:" and anyone tracking that keyword will see it too.
March 19, 2008
frindley commented on the list dumbisms
"New initiative" always gets me. What other kind of initiative is there?
March 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word australele
A musical instrument (provisional patent No.26091) manufactured in the 1930s
"As with business so with art, this is a revolutionary age. A period when speedy accomplishment is the secret of all success, and in introducing something that is truly a revelation in the providing of music in a modern way, we are simply moving with the time. It was not possible that such a thing could be achieved was the first thought of musicians, when we perfected the 'Australele' as an instrument which could be 'mastered after only a few minutes' tuition'. We have proved our claims and the critics now admit their amazement.
"Invented by an Australian, made by Australians for Australians, 'THE AUSTRALELE' is a milestone in the musical progress of Australia."
Hmm
"The instrument that adds to the true care-free jollity to every occasion of pleasure. Become the life of the party. Providing the musical accompaniment for dances, beach parties, moonlight picnics and home festivities. Compact and easily handled, you need never be without your 'Australele'."
(That dangler appears in the original - I'm sure the reader is pleased to know that he or she is "compact and easily handled".)
The Australele is a 16-string, three-chord zither with a body similar in shape to a ukelele body (but without the neck) and controls in the style of an auto-harp. It is also truly defunct.
March 19, 2008
frindley commented on the list zing-went-the-strings
Two beautiful Australian stringy zingers:
tea chest bass - a single string bowed instrument in which a tea chest forms the resonator; wikipedia tells me the North American equivalent is the washtub bass
Australele - a 16-string, three-chord zither with a body similar in shape to a ukelele body (but without the neck), manufactured in the 1930s.
March 19, 2008
frindley commented on the list zing-went-the-strings
viol, violone, erhu (Chinese), bandura (Ukrainian, I think), hurdy-gurdy, virginal, theorbo (long-necked lute with extra courses), archlute, viola da gamba (referred to informally as the 'gamba' and therefore literally 'leg'...)
March 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word turpitude
And for some reason always associated in my mind with torpor as if one state somehow leads to the other. Perhaps in a way they do – to quote my mother, 'The Devil always finds work for idle hands.'
March 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word turpitude
an impressive sounding word, perfect for the passing of (superior) judgement, especially in the combination moral turpitude
March 19, 2008
frindley commented on the word alinea
See mellifluous.
March 16, 2008
frindley commented on the word mellifluous
See also grandiloquent/grandiloquence.
Mellifluous grandiloquence is something else altogether!
March 16, 2008
frindley commented on the word non-uniform day
The Aussie usage of "mufti day" probably came from the military. It was definitely in use in the 1970s and 1980s and early 1990s. Don't know about 21st-century usage; I'm not connected with high schools in a meaningful way any more.
But you're right, the increased awareness of Muslim traditions and terminology in English-speaking countries might make it seem politically incorrect. You'd have a lexicographical and etymological education project on your hands!
March 16, 2008
frindley commented on the word gift
See verbify.
And yes, "gift" is one of those falsche Freunden. You think it's going to be a cognate and it turns out it's not!
March 16, 2008
frindley commented on the word verbify
Very old practice. Looking at the discussion under specific examples (such as favorited) it becomes clear that we tend not to like or be resistant to the newer verb forms – dialogue is one. But sometimes even older examples prove bothersome, such as "partying".
My personal bug-bear is gift in verb form. It makes my skin crawl.
Yet this is a very old usage indeed. However, it's one that's been sustained in daily usage only in North America. So to my Aussie ears it always rings false when I come across sentences like "She gifted me a lovely pot plant for Christmas". Because in my part of the world we'd say "She gave me a lovely pot plant for Christmas." And "gave" seems perfectly adequate.
That said, as I understand it "gift" (v) embraces the idea of giving as a present, and in North America that seems to be distinguished from the ordinary giving of something ("I gave those old t-shirts to my sister so she could pack glassware."). So using the verb form of "gift" allows for a greater distinction of meaning and less ambiguity than using "gave" for both functions. But that intellectual appreciation hasn't helped me warm to the word one bit, alas.
March 16, 2008
frindley commented on the word favorite
Why does partying bother you reesetee? Yes, it's an example of making a verb from a noun, but it's as old as the hills (well, late 16th century in the sense of taking the part of or siding with, but at least early 20th century in the sense of giving/attending parties).
March 16, 2008
frindley commented on the list book-titles-unexpurgated
Thanks - that's an interesting piece.
March 13, 2008
frindley commented on the user arcadia
Well, I'm a writer and editor - I make program books for a symphony orchestra. And that involves a fair bit of proofreading. It also involves taking on the mantle of resident guru: pronouncing on matters of musical and literary detail. Hence pedantry - of the best kind!
March 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word non-uniform day
Hmm, mufti day has a better ring to it, I think. That's what we called it at my (Australian) high school.
March 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word defenestration
It's now on facebook as one of the "poking" options. You can hug someone, hi-five them, etc. Or you can defenestrate them.
March 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word northern lights
But why? My theory is that the publishers thought a title that referred, albeit inaccurately, to the all-important alethiometer would appeal to gadget-obsessed youth.
Too far fetched? It's as good a reason as any other. What was wrong with his original title anyway?
March 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word northern lights
Philip Pullman: Northern Lights
Published in the US as The Golden Compass (also the name of the movie in the US and other English-speaking countries)
March 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word philosopher's stone
This one really annoyed me. A philosopher's stone is a very specific thing. The plot hinges on a philosopher's stone and the particular properties and benefits it brings its owner. A sorcerer's stone on the other hand is nothing at all.
March 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word philosopher's stone
JK Rowling: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone
Published in the US as Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (also the name of the movie, in the US only)
March 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word ark
Look, "list" isn't awful; Schindler does indeed keep a list. But "ark" has so many more layers of resonance.
March 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word ark
Thomas Keneally: Schindler's Ark
Published as Schindler's List
(this was also the title of the movie adaptation)
March 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word grateful
in the sense of idiomatic
March 12, 2008
frindley commented on the user arcadia
Hi arcadia - just saw your question re the æ ligature now (I've been neglecting my list!)
If you're using a PC, then the easiest method is to hold down the ALT key while typing, using your keypad:
0230 (for lower case æ)
0198 (for upper case Æ)
This will work anywhere, including spreadsheets and emails where MS Word shortcuts and insert symbol options don't work.
If you have any problems, try toggling the "num lock" key on your keyboard.
If you are using a Mac, then hold down the ALT/OPTION key while typing:
' (i.e. an apostrophe, for lower case æ)
SHIFT+' (i.e. the double quote character, for upper case Æ)
On a Mac, you can also set up a Character Palette in your Menu bar (do this in International under System Preferences) which will allow you to insert all kinds of special characters. This isn't as speedy as using the keyboard.
If in Word on either platform you can use the Insert Symbol option. Again, not as fast and limited to Word.
Cheers, frindley
March 12, 2008
frindley commented on the list frindley-s-ark
Hi arcadia - just saw your question now (I've been neglecting my list!)
If you're using a PC, then the easiest method is to hold down the ALT key while typing, using your keypad:
0230 (for lower case æ)
0198 (for upper case Æ)
This will work anywhere, including spreadsheets and emails where MS Word shortcuts and insert symbol options don't work.
If you have any problems, try toggling the "num lock" key on your keyboard.
If you are using a Mac, then hold down the ALT/OPTION key while typing:
' (i.e. an apostrophe, for lower case æ)
SHIFT+' (i.e. the double quote character, for upper case Æ)
On a Mac, you can also set up a Character Palette in your Menu bar (do this in International under System Preferences) which will allow you to insert all kinds of special characters. This isn't as speedy as using the keyboard.
If in Word on either platform you can use the Insert Symbol option. Again, not as fast and limited to Word.
March 12, 2008
frindley commented on the word mediæval
(And yes, I'm a typography nerd.)
January 15, 2008
frindley commented on the word encyclopædia
Same deal as mediæval
January 15, 2008
frindley commented on the word mediæval
I like it spelled like that. Not just with "ae" but with the ligature.
January 15, 2008
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