Friday, September 21, 2007

Atelier

Having recently returned from Paris, I remember passing by an atelier or two in the 1er Arrondissement. It's not quite the same thing there...

Atelier comes from the Latin "assula", a chip or splinter, as a diminuitive of "assis" for a board. Through a series of variant Latin spellings, we add a "t" and end up with "astulla", which through Old French becomes "astelier", for a carpenter's shop. The loss of the "s" now does not change that it is still a woodshop, and not just the commonly known workshop. In Paris, the atelier is where they make and repair furniture. Elsewhere in the world, even when talking about France, it is a place for work of the hands (painting, pottery, jewelry).

Ah well, as a purist, you know where my tendencies lie. My usage will only be for the carpenter's shop, but it's hard to find an atelier in the Yellow Pages, and if I ever want a place for my budding dress-making business, I'll just have to rent a studio.

Intrepid

Ah, yes, this is a great word, not used enough.

Intrepid comes from the Latin "in" for "not" and "trepidus" for "anxious or disturbed", and thus meaning "calm", but now means "bold or fearless". I love it when the pendulum swing of the "not" gets wildly distorted 180 degrees, rather than merely coming to rest at equilibrium. Calm as in not anxious or disturbed could simply mean inactive or at rest, and not requiring the action inherent in bold or fearless. Ah well, as Newton's First Law states, objects in motion tend to stay in motion, and this definition's evolution was well in motion. Lord only where it will end up, but if the pendulum keeps swinging, it may end up at anxious or disturbed again...

Intrepid climbers of Mount Everest may also be called stupid or foolhardy. Tune in next week to see how our intrepid heroes escape from the villain's obvious trap. Despite the law being against his client, Plaintiff's counsel presented his argument before the Court with intrepid aplomb. It is an intrepid woman who knows when to confront her significant other when he treats her like chattel despite her significant contribution to his fledging business. 'nuff said.

Turpitude

Yes, this is another of my favorite words. Don't ask.

Turpitude comes from the Latin "turpis" for "base or vile" and "tude", the suffix which makes the adjective into a participle. And that makes this word as clear as mud. We all have a general understanding of what base and vile mean, but now its important to know what these words really mean. So, for the meta level we have vile, which comes from the Latin "vilis" for "of little worth, base or cheap" but which has come to mean things associated with the poor of the Dark Ages (wretched, filthy, repulsive, etc.) and base, which comes from the Latin "basus" for physically low or short, and which has come to have a similar connotation as with those of low birth (not refined, worthless, morally low). Ok, so back to turpitude. While base and vile etymologically have no origin in depravity, the ongoing association with the individual who were literally base or vile tended to create that connotation and it stuck, not just to base and vile, but by extension to turpitude. The irony is that as now the moral depravity is implied, turpitude is usually paired with moral in an almost redundant fashion. Moral turpitude, as if there is another kind of depravity. Could we really fathom political turpitude? isn't that really moral/ethical anyway. economic turpitude? that just sounds implausible. But ultimately, this is just another connotative association from something of little worth to people without money to what people without money may be forced to do by society a millenium ago to just that conduct generally and finally to a moral issue. Naturally.

As usual, turpitude applies to people and the activities of people almost exclusively. It's kinda hard for my cat to engage in an immoral act, but I suppose it is possible. Let's not go there either. So, the Pennsylvania school authorities maintained the right to fire a teacher for moral turpitude. This was how it actually expressed its right, amusingly for an educational system using the redundancy, and it is still just as vague now as it was then. Adultery, while still on the books as an offense, is no longer actionable for divorce as an independent cause, and therefore, socially, may no longer be considered turpitude. True, although esoteric. Miscreant youths loitering in the mall for shops to close in order to mug the last customers engage in a unique form of turpitude. It is turpitude, however, to misuse a word? Depend of how egregious the misuse. Misusing well and good? probably. Failing to use the subjunctive tense? definitely!

Fungible

Since I have a backlog of over 100 words from DD, I can at least chose my favorite words for my return posts. Fungible is another of those.

Fungible comes from the the Latin "fungi" and "vice" for "to perform" "in the place of". Therefore, fungible means "freely exchangeable for or replaceable by another of like nature or kind" or "interchangeable". Pretty straightforward. Of course, the original root of "to perform" likely meant that it was intended to apply to people (servants, foot soldiers) but now it applies to any asset (commodities, money) and in deference to not alienating people (and the fact that the feudal system has largely been abolished), it is used almost exclusively with these tangibles.

While assembly line workers may be fungible, only an unfeeling corporate behemoth would refer to them as faceless, impersonal assets for fear of a union strike or a mass exodus of their labor force. Comingling client assets may make money fungible, but it does not erase their paper trail. Livestock are a fungible good for slaughter, but not for breeding. yes, although its dull and very clinical. I'll stick with financial instruments (stocks, bonds), money (duh--did you really expect to get that specific $20 that you deposited 5 years ago?) and people (for the sarcastic element). Often during my college education I felt that the University treated its students as no more than fungible--just like every other sucker from whom it could gouge exorbitant tuition while providing the bare minimum of services and herding us from class to class. Your mileage may vary.

Recreant v. Miscreant

Recreant was a recent DD wotd of which, quite honestly, I had never heard. Probably would have thought it was a derogatory way of describing someone with too many weekend pursuits (he's a real recreant of tennis, golf and pool), but that's clearly not right. Of course, this immediately conjures miscreant in my mind as a pair ripe for comparison. Miscreant is a great word, and a personal favorite of mine to describe some teenagers or those obnoxious 'tweens who lack direction.

Recreant comes from Latin "credere" for "to believe" through the French past participle of "recroire" meaning to "yield in a trial by combat" or more figuratively, yielding the cause. Ok, so I may find this an unusual etymological evolution, so I'll start with the prefix. "Re" usually means again, but it has another limited usage meaning "back", as in to take back, which would make more sense in this context as to "take back a belief". Unfortunately, that only gets us part way to its current meaning of "cowardly" or "disloyal", but if knights originally took oaths of duty and loyalty to defend and honor the beliefs of the king and, by extension in Medieval times, the church, to yield those beliefs was cowardly and disloyal, as well as obviously "unfaithful". Whew. Compare this to miscreant, which has the same Latin root, but with the prefix "mis", which means "wrong". Therefore, miscreant means one who has a wrong belief, compared to recreant as one who has given up a correct belief. Now, just to compound matters, over time, miscreant has taken on meanings of vicious and depraved, and not just heretic and infidel, which reference the boundaries of having a wrong belief system, likely as an extension of the common thought of what people were like if they didn't have the proper and accepted belief system. Meanwhile, recreant has some overtones of being a traitor, implying that by abandoning the cause, you have gone to the other side, which is not a logical extension (you could abstain). It is a fine line between retreat and crossing over, but what we see is that in Medieval times through the Renaissance, any waiver of faith was as good as sinning. Recreant, miscreant, you were still damned and outside of society.

Now for the fun part--application. Pretty clearly, both of these words apply to people and the activities of people. Miscreant youth loiter in the mall waiting for stores to close so they can mug the last customer. Recreant youth engage in a night of binge drinking and then cheat on a test the next day, despite the honor code, just to maintain their 4.0 averages. He's a real miscreant for cheating on his wife, but a recreant for walking away from the argument. Yes to the first, maybe to the second. However, since both miscreant and recreant have "belief" in their origins, this requires sentience and intent to abandon or reject the belief. Therefore, these words cannot apply to other animates, or tangibles or intangibles, except, as always, to the extent that we try to give them such cognitive powers. The miscreant dog may urinate on the carpet, but it was merely a biological function, and not a deliberate act to annoy me. The miscreant cat which defecated in my shoe because I didn't clean the litter box...that's another story. Recreant is harder to use since it requires double the cognitive intent--the first to engage in the act and the second to withdraw from it. The dog was initially anxious for his morning walk but immediately became recreant upon realizing the intense rain. This just sounds stupid. The proper word is reluctant, or possibly reticent, or even just unwilling. I think the extra level of cognitive process of recreant restricts it from usages, no matter how sarcastic, beyond people. The recreant Plaintiff's counsel asked the Court to withdraw as attorney of record for his client when he learned that his client was lying to him. Since nearly all plaintiffs lie to their attorney about something relating to their case (how the accident really occurred, how much pain they really have...), to suddenly be put off by the lie is akin to yielding the cause, and litigation is the current form of trial by combat, so this works quite well. The miscreant Plaintiff's attorney would steal the retainer and do no work. Miscreant is just too easy to use. All you have to do is think of amoral activities or people. Recreant requires more nuance of someone who has lost faith in the cause. Dropping out of high school from teenage pregnancy is recreant? Possibly, although adversity is not the condition for yielding. Dropping out of high school because your senior advisor said you won't amount to anything. That's a better and more accurate usage. Education is supposed to help you aspire to better goals, so accepting the opinion that you can't make any of those goals is yielding the cause of education. Ok, perhaps a little to esoteric, but you get the picture. So, let us not be recreant in our usage of the English language that these words may be used in a miscreant fashion.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Growing

Being a language purist, nothing bothers me more than a word which has been bastardized into a cute marketing expression. So, although I don't do phrases, a request has been made for "grow" based on "to grow one's business".

Well, this is new to me. Grow is one of those base words from Medieval English "growen" from Old Norse "groa", and it has always meant "to grow". No derivations, no deviations, no distractions. Just grow. Now, of course, there are over a dozen variant definitions of the use of the word grow, but I'm going to focus on the misuse I stated above. And how does this differ from my prior suggestions to use words out of context? Because grow was originally an intransitive verb requiring helping verbs (He has been growing a rate of 1" each month; our crops have been growing well now that we have installed the new irrigation system), and only in the 1800s was it expanded to include living things directly (We grow grapes and roses; violets grow best with incandescent lighting), but the application to nonliving things was a sound byte apparently coined by President Bill Clinton in 1992 in his remarks to the People of East Lansing ("...that we not only could, but we had to grow the economy and improve the environment.). And the phrase took off, unfortunately. I suppose it's not such a bad misuse if you truly believe a business is a living organism, or analogous to one, which it not a big stretch. But this misuse was from "growing the economy" subsequently extended to "growing a business". Now, I am not a farmer, but I don't view the practice of planting, nurturing, pruning, weeding, harvesting, and selling of produce to be the equivalent process of trying to improve the economy, which is more like trying to make a path through a Brazilian rain forest with a butter knife. Therefore, you may, potentially, grow an idea to solve the deficit, as the idea may be germinated and nurtured, etc., but you cannot grow the economy all by itself--the economy was not a developed idea, but an analysis of an existing trading system, and you certainly cannot grow the deficit down (that just defies basic agriculture, physics, and common sense).

So, while I don't like "grow your business", as long as it can still be reasonably compared to farmer's crops, it is a not unreasonable extension. A small business owner may grow his business, but Microsoft may be beyond that analogy. You will note the legal caveats that I have included. I could never use this expression. My expansion of usage is only for sarcastic effect. There was no sarcasm in the 1992 speech or any other misuse since then. President Clinton meant it seriously (I hope), and one can only hope that he hired better speech writers since then. Meanwhile, although the expression is here to stay (I have heard it used in Fedex commercials), we can do our part to try to minimize its impact. For my part, when I hear such misusages, I try to rearrange their sentence/sentiment in my immediate response to properly use all the words. "I've got some great ideas to grow my legal practice," says the Plaintiff's attorney. "And what are your ideas to make your business grow?" I reply, with just a hint of irritation. After all, I don't like talking to stupid Plaintiff's attorneys generally, and worse when they misuse the English language they rely on for their livelihood. Let's not grow the English language this way. Yeah, that really does just sound wrong. Let's allow the English language to grow only in reasonable and proper ways. Better.

Lauwine

Well, this is certainly an unusual word, and one that I had never heard, so a rousing thank you to the individual who precipitated my return with this request.

Lauwine, accordingly to OED, apparently derives from the German "lau" for mild or tepid, from the actual German word lawine, which quite simply, means an avalanche. But lawine derives more realistically from the Latin "labina" for "sliding, chutes" from "labi" for "to slide". The derivative spelling was only in favor in English in the 1800s with its advent in Byron's poem, Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, and shares the same "lau" with the Sweizerdeutsch ("laui", "lauene", and "lauine"), which is more likely the source of the extra "u", rather than some forced meaning with "tepid".

As for use of the word, I think your audience would be more perplexed and put off by a literal use of lauwine ("let's see if this dynamite will trigger a lauwine"), and as a warning, it would be just about useless (Run! the lauwine is coming!) Now, for connotive usage, I love the word "flood", but I could give "lauwine" a try for some variety, after all, it is just another state of water. Instead of a flood of applications for the prestigious internship, one could reference a lauwine of applications. From context, the listener should get it, although I would still imagine with a perplexed look. Are you trying to sound pretentious? Probably. Why not. It's lauwine! What else are you going to do with this word besides relegate it to the archives? Good luck, and don't let all those old words cover you in a lauwine.

Wednesday, August 8, 2007

An Apology

To those of you who keep coming back to my site to see if I've posted anything in recent weeks, I thank you for your dedication and perseverance. To those of you who have posted and emailed to prod me gently to action, I thank you for your enthusiasm and patience. My summer music schedule has been completely (and wonderfully) subsuming to me, but does not abate until late September when I return from the European Tour with the Boston Symphony Orchestra and the Tanglewood Festival Chorus.

My apologies for this lengthy lapse, and again, thank you for your interest and support. I hope to have many interesting stories to weave with all the words I have stored from DD over this time.

Lauren

Saturday, May 19, 2007

Nonpareil

Technically, this is a phrase, which has been misspelled as a single word for the benefit of English, and a foreign word (phrase), and therefore, excluded from discussion, but I'll make a a brief exception because it is French.

Nonpareil comes from the Latin "non" (not) and "par" (equal). Literally, not equal, but figuratively, for unequaled or without equal. Old French kept the "non" and used a diminutive "pareil" for equal, so the etymology to usage is still direct, as is the current spelling.

Which leaves us with usage, and here I will digress, since I think the appropriate usage would be to keep it as two French words "non pareil" and write it in italics to indicate the deliberate usage of a foreign language. This phrase is French, and should stay that way. She hopes that her theory will be non pareil when presented to the Court. Equally, she strives that her musicianship and preparation for rehearsals will be non pareil, and set the standard for other chorus members. Of course, if you insist, just take out the space and lose the italics and see if it doesn't look like a typo...

Moil v. Toil

From the past two weeks while I was "otherwise occupied" with work and recuperating, I have such a backlog of DD words, that I think I can keep up the French trend for some time.

Moil derives from the Latin "mollis" for "soft" as related to "mollia (panis)" for "the soft part (of bread)", through Old French "moillier" for "to soften as from having been made wet" and eventually to Middle English "moillen" for "to soak or make wet" which of course led to manual labor because why else would anyone c. 1400 get wet other than toiling in the mire??? And that's the definition that we are left with--toiling, drudgery and hard work, and some latent description of the churning water as from the labor in the mire. Ironically, this word has no relationship to turmoil, which derives from some mill activity.

Now, compare toil, which derives from the Latin "tudiculare" for "to stir up or beat" as from a machine which crushed olives, through the French "toiler" for "to contend". It is hard to see how "crushing" becomes "contending", but ultimately, in Middle English c. 1250-1300, the word came to mean just hard and continuous labor. Maybe they were just contending against the daily grind. :-)

So, how does moil differ from toil, other than the initial consonant? Well, since moil derives from water, there is still the residual implication of churning in the work, while toil is has the residual crushing. Therefore, the busy receptionist's attention diverted by walk-ins, phone calls and doctor requests added to the moil which was her work environment, while the incessant HMO paperwork only added to her toil. The first is a flurry of activity like a whirlwind, while the second is the crushing blow. Daily teacher's toil away under adverse circumstances of dwindling resources, striving to keep each classroom from creating a moil. I like the first usage, but the second becomes a bit vague. Children after eating too many sweets are a moil of restless energy? Better, but still a little opaque. Depression moils in a downward spiral unless checked. eh. Basically, I don't like this word, even if it does have a French etymology. It's a bit useless and obscure. I'll keep working at it. See if I can make it work for me without too much moil--or toil.

Pastiche

Still working through my French words, although this one has a more circuitous evolution.

Pastiche comes from the French "pastiche" meaning "a medley" from the Italian "pasticcio" for both "a medley" and "a pastry cake" as derived from the Latin "pasta" for "paste" and "pastry cake", which took the word "pasta" from the Greek for "porridge or barley". There was a great joke about flour and water makes paste, but add eggs and sugar and you get cake--what happened to the paste? Well, this word evokes the joke. From the paste we get the pastry and then the imitation of the paste and/or the pastry from different pieces, and then just the disparate pieces in imitation of anything. It is certainly an eccentric derivation, but not without a rational thread, even if the evolution is due to lazy usage. What happened between the Latin and the Italian that the word came to mean a medley and not just a food? Was it something having to do with the combination of disparate ingredients of flour and egg to make the pasta that inadvertently came to be a cake and the medley of ingredient to make the cake? It's plausible, but still a little weak. However, as the Italian was arguably coined c. 1750, it is not improbable as the form of the pastry as a sweet was beginning to emerge.

A tart is a conduit for a pastiche of seasonal fruits. I especially love it when the literal the figurative merge. A quilt was originally a pastiche for remnant fabrics. P.D.Q. Bach employs a pastiche of elementary tunes from chop stix to childish taunts in his works. Statutes are a mere pastiche of unedited legal language from countless amendments. Since pastiche carries an element of creativity to the integration of disparate elements, it is typically used with artistic forms (music, cooking, writing). Therefore, although a homeless person's wardrobe may be a pastiche of charitable donations representing various decades of fashion, this may be a bit extreme. The decor of her home represented a pastiche of family heirlooms and curios collected from a myriad of exotic trips. Better. A mutt is not a pastiche of a its genealogy since it has no choice in the artistic make up, but a new breed may be so bred. Since pastiche is inherently artistic, there is an element that the creativity should be deliberate, and not merely by chance. The combination and/or imitation is intentional, and not a mistake in a new recipe or an inadvertent copyright infringement. Plaintiff's counsel's brief read like a pastiche of prior briefs for other clients, including the inadvertent typo of leaving in the other client's name, and therefore, carried no real persuasive effect.

Denouement

I'm on a French kick at the moment, being a latent Francophile, and this is yet another word of French origin that finally tickled my French fancy.

Denouement--of course it would be French with all those vowels in rapid succession, and the correct pronounciation dropping the final "nt" in favor of the nasal "e"--comes from the French "dénouer" for to untie from the Latin "de" meaning the negative of the following word and "nodare" for "to tie in a knot." So literally, the word means to untie the knot, and figuratively, that has been applied to the resolution of the complex elements of an event or the plot of a literary or dramatic work. Did dénouer in 1752 when the word was coined ever just mean picking at one's bootlaces? Possibly, but it does seem equally appropriate to unraveling the threads of the story lines of a novel, and then by easy extension, to unraveling any complicated issue. So, no major detours in the evolution and current usage of this word.

The denouement of any fairy tale is the wedding between the hero and the damsel with the coda "and they lived happily ever after". Perhaps fairy tales aren't complicated, but you get the point. A typical film follows a 3 act formula with a quick denouement in the last reel; however, the movie AI: Artifical Intelligence, had a 3 act denouement which was painful to watch not only for the additional length but also for the lack of understanding of when the picture would actually end. The denouement of an argument between friends should lead to reconciliation and apologies. Plaintiff's counsel enjoyed the sound of his own voice so much that he failed to present a proper denouement in his closing argument that the jury could understand what the point of his speech was. Isn't the graduation ceremony merely a denouement of four years in college? This word isn't hard to use in everyday life. Any time an activity is winding down, this word is appropriate. There is an overtone of resolution of a complicated issue, the idea being that the events have been building to a climax which is resolved. If there is no building, though, there may be little to resolve, and therefore no real denouement. Conversely, a denouement which leads to a cliffhanger may be unsatisfying as not really resolving anything. So using denouement outside of normally complicated resolutions gives that import to the thing, for effect or for sarcasm. The denouement of the work day is packing up to go home. Perhaps a bit of an overstatement, but that depends on how intricate one's work is and how difficult it may be to extricate oneself at the end of the day. The denouement of bankruptcy usually ends in a fire sale of assets. So many opportunities. So little time. The denouement of many entries in this forum involves a usage impugning plaintiffs' counsel. Enjoy.

Penchant

Love this word! I use it regularly, and never hear it enough. Whenever I do hear it used (not by me), it always makes me smile.

Penchant comes from the French "pencher" for bend or incline from the Latin "pendere" for "to hang or weigh" as devolved through the Latin "pendicare" for "to lean". So as the pendulum or pendant (both of the same origin) hangs and perhaps sways in a direction, perhaps from a perceived imbalance, a movement whether deliberate or by the earth's rotation or magnetism, or an architectural anomaly, the bob appears to "incline" towards something. Of course, like all good words related to the movement of objects, it was immediately applied to people where it stuck and the object origin was abandoned. Thus, penchant not only means the emotional inclination toward a person or idea, but a strong such inclination, as if the original "inclining" were due solely to magnetism causing an unnatural attraction of the pendant to the other object.

She has a penchant for exploring new blog sites. His penchant for forensic accounting made him a formidable business executive. Her cat's penchant for moist cat treats was guaranteed to bring the pet out of hiding just from rusting the bag. As an initial note, penchant is nearly always used with the preposition "for", which makes this practically a phrase, and it can be used with any sentient creature which could have a preferential liking of something without issue. Now, the old IBM 386's had a penchant for crashing just before the user tried to save. Possibly, if you think outdated computers like to foil user's reasonable efforts, and give such intent to the computer. Derelict buildings have a penchant for drawing crime. Probably not, even if one were being sarcastic. There's just nothing cognitive about a building that it could even be remotely analogized to a person. Vague political theories have a penchant for being bandied about by the uninformed. Again probably not, because the theories are not the ones with the liking that is causing anything. Politicians have a penchant for bandying about vague political theories. Correct. And of course, she has a keen penchant for picking on plaintiffs' counsel.

Thursday, May 3, 2007

Pantheon

I normally would have given this word a miss, but the DD etymology got me so riled, I had to address it.

Pantheon derives from the Greek (finally! not another Latin origin) "pan" for "all" and "theos" for "god", so pantheon literally means "all the gods". There is nothing about a structure, despite what DD says. The Greek system of worshiping the gods was not restricted to a single building, but was a way of life which was embodied in all activities, much like many modern day religions which are not merely restricted to Sunday or Saturday services. To speak of the Pantheon then with a capital P was not referring to a temple, but to the Twelve Olympian, which represented the important gods, and the other gods were facets under these twelve (See e.g., Hermes, Hermes Argeiphontes, Hermes Cthonious (overlapping with Charon), Hermes Cyllenius, Hermes Trimegistis, Hermes Psychopompos (overlapping with Somnus, and his son Morpheus)). Gods not associated directly or indirectly with the Olympians were prior ancient deities being phased out as having been defeated by the Olympians (Titans and their "monstrous" progeny), deities in contravention to the Olympians for point of conflict (literally, Eris), and the vague deities of nature (e.g., Gaia, Eos, Nyx). So, to speak of the Pantheon is to speak of the twelve greatest gods of ancient Greece, and possibly the twelve greatest Roman gods as the same were subverted entirely into their religion. There was no single building in ancient Greece where all twelve were worshiped; that only exists in Rome, which makes it ironic that the idea of a structure is a Roman construct onto a Greek idea, literally and figuratively. Since there was no such building until Roman times, but the word is solely of Greek origin, it is clear that there was no intention of a building until the Romans took over the "Pantheon" from the Greeks. Therefore, being a purist, I would never use this word to describe a building except for the sole named building in Italy. Ok, stepping off my soap box now.

Quickly, then in practice, it should refer to a small group of the best of a category. Nobel prize winners represent the pantheon of academic scholars. Senior partners meet as a pantheon of legal minds. The special publication of the pantheon of papers was widely regarded as a "must have" for every library. The seven wonders of the ancient world are a pantheon of the greatest structures ever built. Works with people, places, things, ideas, basically anything that has a "best" which is everything. I'll leave you to your own sarcasm about creating a pantheon of things which are less than the best, but you know mine would start with Plaintiff's counsel.

Wednesday, May 2, 2007

Credulous v. Credible

My gut tells me that these are words frequently misused, so it's time I set myself straight, and DD has prompted me to do so.

Credulous comes from the Latin "credere" for "to believe", therefore, credulous means "believing easily", so it refers to the perception of a person and not the quality of the thing or intangible. Young children lose their credulous nature as they are exposed to the realities of the world around them. Naivete is merely credulousness in adults. Credulous clients allow Plaintiff's counsel's to convince them about the ongoing merits of their case, even in the face of negative court rulings. But not, the credulous witness or evidence was not believed by the jury. The correct word there is credible, which also comes from the Latin "credere". So the difference here is the suffix. "ous" means "possessing or being full of" the noun while "ible" means "susceptible of or capable of being" of that verb. The part of speech is largely irrelevant and only becomes an issue due to the switched perspective. Therefore, credulous correctly means "possessing or being full of belief" and credible means "capable of being believed". See various v. variable. Credible, therefore, can be used not just with people, but also with tangibles and intangibles, since the quality of capable of being believed is latent in the tangible or intangible until it is acknowledged by the potential believer. One who is credulous may believe too quickly that which appears tacitly credible. Fill in your own subjects; mine are Plaintiff's counsel and their own arguments.

Supplant v. Usurp

Both sublime words, not used nearly enough.

Supplant comes from the Latin "sub" for "under" and "planta" for "the sole of the foot". Therefore, literally it means "under foot", but poetically, as we have seen from other Latin derivations, the preposition comes after the verb, so it means to put one's foot under another, and thereby thrown that person down by tripping them. I suppose you would only want to trip someone who was under foot. From "tripping" someone, it is only a moderate stretch through "to displace or substitute" to "to take by force". After all, as we remember from grade school, when we "trip" someone, it is usually intentionally.

My cat regularly supplants my need for sleep with her need for affection. Someday alternative energy will supplant our reliance on fossil fuels. Plaintiff's counsel's client's whining supplanted his good sense not to take the case. Since supplant involves an issue of perception about the tripping or substitution, it works with tangibles and intangibles.

Now, the real fun is how it differs from usurp. Usurp comes from the Latin "usus" for "a use" and "rapere" for "to seize", and therefore means "seize for use". Usurp, by the etymology of "to seize", is more violent than supplant which was just tripping, and therefore, usurp has the connotation of being "without right" while supplant is just accidental or negligent. So, the uncle usurped the throne from his brother. Standard usage. Or building the fence 1" onto his neighbor's property, which position was not noticed for 20 years, allowed him to usurp the land through adverse possession. Perhaps a little less standard, but still correct. Having swapped urine samples, he usurped his competitor's place on the team. Ok, enough of standard usage. If we talk business, the release of the new Microsoft OS was intended to usurp Apple's dominance in the market. While not technically an issue of "without right", it gives the spectre of being underhanded or dirty as if it were "without right" from not being fair. The water cooler gossip of her affair which led to her promotion usurped her authority. Eh. Perhaps undermined would be better here, but it is possible that the gossip did replace her authority, and not merely countermand it. The water cooler gossip of her affair usurped the good reputation she had developed for her charitable work. Better, but still not quite right. It is violent enough in that the gossip is invidious, but the element being taken still doesn't appear to lend itself to such seizure. Plaintiff's counsel's client's whining usurped his good sense not to take the case. Hmmm. If he were weak-willed that his client could seize control of his good sense, maybe. Ok, well, basically, taking usurp to an expanded usage, it needs to have the appearance of being "without right" or raised to the level of appearing to be "without right" and the element being taken needs to be susceptible to being taken. She would never usurp someone else's idea or work and pass it off as her own, although she was often jokingly accused of having read everyone's mind.

We endeavor not to supplant our own word meanings, and thereby, not to usurp correct usage.

Sunday, April 29, 2007

Indigence v. Destitute

These are such depressing words, but DD, in it's infinite wisdom, thought indigence was a good wotd, and that led to a natural comparison with destitute. At least indigence wasn't the wotd for April 15th...

Indigence derives from the Latin "indu" for "in or within" and "egere" for "to be in need or want", which appears to be a little redundant, but fortunately, since the meaning is still "in need", I don't need to go into a lengthy analysis of the etymology or the derivation. Perhaps the double "in" just gives greater emphasis to the state of need which makes it a "seriously impoverished condition" and not merely a basic "in need".

Destitute, on the other hand, derives from the Latin "de" as a form of "dis" for "out, off, apart, away, completely" and "stit" for "place or put". Therefore, destitute means "out of place" and by reasonable extension, without the comforts associated with place (shelter, clothing, food). Of course, then next natural and perhaps lazy association was just simply to be without something whether a basic necessity or not.

So, of course, this leaves us with two words which still appear to have the same meaning, of being without something necessary. Time for OED. Well, OED does shed some light. Destitute has a connotation of having been abandoned or deprived, and therefore, that the circumstances were brought on by another person, while indigence is from the personal perspective of being in want or need, not necessarily due to the actions of another person, and almost exclusively relates a lack of money as due, since with money we could fulfill these basic wants and needs. When she was evicted from her apartment, she became destitute, but she could not pay the rent because of her indigence from choosing not to work. Now, because we have to push the boundaries... Destitute can be used with any living being, but indigence from a standpoint of wanting and needing a basic necessity only applies to people. Standing on the T platform in the light snow, clutch her coat against the wind and half asleep after having missed her stop some 4 stops earlier, she looked destitute, and in pity, the T driver stopped to pick her up even though this was not the inbound platform. True story. When he was downsized from his place of employment of the last 30 years, he looked destitute and confused, but fortunately his 401k ensured that he would not be indigent. The lone obsolete 386 computer looked destitute on a table of Intel Core Duos. Possibly, it you think computers have basic needs (talk to Pixar), but this also goes to the original meaning of being abandoned and out of place, notwithstanding that it was intended for people. Many graduate students are indigent which is an unintended tax classification for living below the poverty line. Beggars on the streets of Cape Town are indigent but not destitute since they have their Township home. Animals in a humane society pull at our heart strings because they are destitute. I can't write any more of these "destitute" sentences--they make me sad. Ok, well, maybe one more. She smiled as the disbarred Plaintiff's counsel left his office, now destitute, and likely to become indigent as a result of being unemployable.

May you never be destitute nor indigent.

Saturday, April 28, 2007

Blatant v. Flagrant

By request, and this is a particularly good pair.

Blatant was coined by Edmund Spenser in "The Faerie Queen" in 1596, its etymology is questioned from two origins: first, from the Scottish "blaitant", an archaic form of the word "bleating" and second, from the Latin "blatire" for "to babble or blab". It has been argued that bleating is less what was intended than the blabbing. Bleating connotes an annoying sound, usually pleading and whining, while blabbing connotes a loud publication, telling secrets and gossiping. Without getting too much into blabbing, it just doesn't work once you get past 4th grade and learn that telling secrets is best done sotto voce. But it seems difficult to describe a monster ("the blatant beast") as telling secrets more than as making loud and annoying sounds, and therefore, I would argue that in coining the word, Spencer perhaps intended both elements, folding on each other with a good double meaning. But that doesn't help us, because now we have a word that since its meaning has not been reconciled, still has two distinct and unrelated prongs: (1) the bleating and (2) the blabbing. What is important to note, though, is that there is no element of "obviousness". Loud and annoying does not necessarily give rise to "obvious" (particularly since obvious relates first to things that are seen, not heard). Therefore, DD's Random House definitions which opine for some level of obviousness are just wrong as an over-extension of the word, whereas OED and DD's American Heritage definitions, which are just about loud and annoying are correct. So ultimately, the correct usage of blatant is solely the loud and annoying aspects. That there is a connotation of offensiveness appears to be latent from the blabbing origins (when you give secrets you are offending someone) and/or because of the extent of something that is really that loud or annoying could be offensive. Therefore, blatant as it might mean offensive may only apply when something is extremely loud and annoying (i.e., vulgar) or when being disrespectful.

Therefore, it is correct to say that as he got more drunk, his one-uping stories became more blatant. Here it can mean both the loud and offensive connotation, probably works best because of the double entendre. The blatant barking of guard dog brought the police. It's just loud and annoying, but not offensive, even if it were at 4:00am. It is a blatant mistake to wear red and green to a Hanukkah party. Well, color combination is loud, but here, it was intended because of the annoying and possibly offensive aspects as being disrespectful.

Meanwhile, flagrant comes from the Latin "flagrare" for "to burn", and has come to mean "conspicuously bad, offensive or reprehensible", the idea that when something is burning it is noticeable to everyone and probably not desirable, at least back before modern fire-fighting techniques were available. Remember, even signal fires gave away position to the enemy. Flagrant also still carries the meaning about fire and the quality of fire (red, hot), and has been used metaphorically in that context when describing emotions, such as desire, or war, but I'll focus on the "offensive" aspect, since this is a comparison to blatant. Here, flagrant means obvious, and since obviousness is an evaluative measure, it doesn't apply to people or things, but rather to ideas and activities. He was a flagrant fellow often investing poorly. When applied like this, it tends to have the tangible qualities of red or hot, which would be inappropriate, or else it sounds like it is a malapropism of frivolous, and should just mean wasteful. His flagrant "investing" in Ponzi schemes earned him a financial custodian. Better. The tell-all book about the his patient's psychology sessions was a flagrant breach of the psychotherapist/patient privilege. [Ed. note: they can't all be about attorneys...] Speeding and weaving on the Beltway are flagrant violations of the rules of driving. Flagrant seems to work best with intangibles. "Sampling" his mother's birthday cake the day before her 50th birthday party showed a flagrant disregard for her feelings.

It was flagrant lie to say that she had not been swimming when she showed up in a bikini dripping wet, but it was merely a blatant lie when she proclaimed that she had not enjoyed herself when we were also suffering from the heat. The second lie may have also been flagrant, but getting chlorine or salt out of hair is sometimes quite hard and the effort may not have been worth it, so we can't know for sure. As psychopaths substitute fiction for fact, what they think are merely blatant breaches of etiquette are actually flagrant disregards of social norms. Plaintiff's counsel's motion for summary judgment contained many flagrant misquotes from the deposition which became blatant to me the more he kept repeating them despite correction in the opposition, at oral argument and from the bench. [Yes, there must always be an attorney...]

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Immolation; Incineration

By request from my mother, who I thought would never get this forum, we have:

Immolation derives from the Latin "immolare" for "to sprinkle with holy meal before offering or sacrificing" from "mol(a)" for the sacrificial barley cake (see mill and millstone derivations). It has come to mean not just the sacrifice, but the act of sacrificing, and since the sacrifice was originally by fire, immolate means to kill as a sacrifice by fire, and therefore, immolation still has the implied requirement of fire.

We don't have too many sacrificial rituals left, but there are some easy comparisons. Political statements that used to be made by self-immolation are not made by suicide bombings. The executives were too late in their immolation of the financial records before they were seized by IRS subpoena. Feeding the dying fire on a cold night is an exercise in immolating logs. Maybe, if we are praying for the fire not to go out. Since it is not killed, a phoenix does not undergo immolation as much as spontaneous combustion. The volcano immolated the forest. Again, no. The act of "killing" requires intent, and therefore, must be the act of a person (all legal pretense aside). Animals kill other animals, but not in ritual sacrifice, or I'd have some accounting to my cat when I return home. Some days, I wish I could immolate certain words from usage. Eh. Better to say expunge or eradicate. The word has a very specific usage to "sacrificing" things by fire, and limited expansion since it is quite specific. You need the connotation of sacrificing and you need a good fire. One day I hope have a "Mortgage Immolation Party". Probably not, for many reasons. When the steak slipped through the grille onto the coals it was not just charred, but immolated. Was this truly sacrificed or just an unfortunate accident? She didn't like the "special seasoning" in his burgers and "accidentally" immolated them. Ok, now it's intentional, but is is really a sacrifice or just getting of something bad.

Now, incineration derives from the Latin "cinis" for ashes, and means "to burn, to reduce to ashes". So while immolate carries the fire requirement from the process of the sacrifice, incinerate is a fire without the sacrificial overtone. To incinerate something is just to burn it, without sentiment. The crematorium normally incinerates a coffin, while other articles laid in the coffin by mourners are immolated. Preventative measures to forest fires sometimes involve incinerating scrub brush before the dry season. I have recently discovered the joys of propane in incinerating the weeds in between the paving stones of my walk. Wear gloves!

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Circumspect

Circumspect (DD definition link)

Well, I could probably do this etymology on my own, "circum" being Latin for "around" and "spect" for "to look". Let's see if I'm right. Except for the full verb form "specere", yep. So, literally, circumspect means "to look around". Now, in practice, it has taken on a greater meaning of not just "to look around" but to look at everything in order to be aware of everything, and then, that such observation is naturally cautious or prudent.

Of course, with such a meaning of "to look around" as a preventative measure, it really only gets applied to people (and their direct activities). Being an insurance defense attorney, she was religiously circumspect to her environment and any potential liabilities. Well, of course! Some of his more extreme circumspect measures included sweeping the room with infrared before entering. Now, don't confuse this word with "suspect" which implies that the activity is not reputable or credible. My black cat is less than circumspect when she enters a dark room and decides to lay in the entrance. Probably not. I could do to be more circumspect when I enter a dark room to make sure I don't kick my black cat. Better, although as per the above, I never do that. Plaintiff's counsel needs to be circumspect to the lies their clients tell them. Yes. After studying the etymologies of certain words, she will be more circumspect to their correct usage, lest she be misunderstood. Yes.

Gregarious

Ah, gregarious. At the outset, this word tends to be swapped with garrulous, but it is anything but. Garrulous means wordy or talkative, like the oral version of prolix, while gregarious... well.

Gregarious derives from the Latin "grex" or "gregis" for "flock or herd". "Gere" became the verb for "to gather or assemble". It's so nice when a word still means which it was intended to mean without any circular or stilted meaning. Gregarious still means tending to seek the company of others, as well as living in flocks or herds. Now, I will note one quirk. Gregarious was not coined as a word until c. 1668, so apparently, prior to that, people and animals assembled in different ways, or perhaps didn't assemble quite so socially, but for political, business or even just survival needs [compare: convene] or were brought together by a third-party [compare: assemble] or perhaps simply that gregarious doesn't operate as a verb, but only as a modifier and a noun. Gregarious zebras met gregarious ostrich at the watering hole. Yes, clearly. He was a gregarious fellow and could be counted on to attend each social event of the season. Yes. The annual Plaintiff's bar convention was a gregarious occasion, as well as an opportunity for a covert AA meeting. Possibly, as it may be extended to the activities of people/animals and of course this depends on how social you perceive attorneys to be. The teddy-bears on her shelf seemed spookily gregarious. Hehe. Technically, no, since gregarious like so many words, requires sentience, but for sarcasm it could work. Also, if you're like me, and you've seen enough B horror movies, you know that maybe the teddy-bears were sentient.

So, while there's so play with the word, it's still pretty straightforward. I hope that one day this may become a gregarious discussion forum. hmm. Have to think about that usage some more. The internet is such a vague form still--it is a person, or a letter or a telephone or a newspaper or an idea or other intangible. Regardless, it could work since the reference is a grouping conduit. Anyone want to expand the usage with me?

Monday, April 23, 2007

Unpack (Pack)

This was a word by request, but really from the phrase "to unpack a concept". As we know, I don't do phrases, so the question is whether "unpack" is being used correctly in this context.

Pack (unpack) came into existence as a noun c. 1225, having derived messily from Low German/Middle Dutch/Middle Flemish/Old Norse "pak" "pac" "pakki" etc. for a group of persons of low character. It started with merchants, but a pack of thieves might have been redundant, once. As the "group" evolved to a bundle carried by such individuals, it became another verbified noun of the act of making something into a bundle. Then by adding the prefix "un" (not) c. 1425, we get "not bundled" or more accurately "not making something into a bundle". [Ed. note: why did it take 150 years to get the things out of the bag?] So, "unpacking a concept" would be to undo the bundle or more figuratively, to unwrap the concept so one can get at the facets of the concept-bundle. So, the short answer is, yes this is a correct, if slightly expanded, usage of pack/unpack, but it is similar to the expression "mining an idea". "Unpacking a concept" does suggest that there is a finite number of segments within the concept that need to be taken out and addressed, while "mining an idea" has an unidentified number of segments that could be addressed (could be a good vein or nothing at all, but you won't know until you start looking at it), so the former is more definitive while the latter is more speculative. However, as these are both idiomatic phrases, whether one is more or less whatever is irrelevant since they are not being used for the specific meanings of the words. Nor is this a malapropism. Someone at some time deliberately matched "unpack" with "concept" (like "mine" with "idea") as an expanded and evocative usage descriptive of probably how tightly wound, obscure, opaque, etc. the concept was which required someone to carefully, methodically and deliberately dismantle the packaging so that we could get at and therefore understand the real issues inside, and now we are stuck with that pair. This is why I don't do phrases, and yet I seem to still find myself doing them....

Sunday, April 22, 2007

Cogent

I just need to get a prolific distaste out of my mind...

Cogent comes from the Latin "co" meaning "with, together" and "agere" for "to drive". Crazy, I know. From "to drive together" of course, we get "convincing" and "relevant", but somewhere in between those two meanings, there was a detour through "forcing". I can see how driving together might be forcing, and then from there, "forcing" would arguably be "convincing", and by being convincing, it would arguably be "relevant".

So, cogent is used mostly with activities of people. Plaintiff's counsel could not make a cogent argument for his client's irrational demands. She gave cogent advice to her younger sister about how to impress her English teacher. She presented a cogent design for the layout of the furniture in the bedroom. Her son's cogent whining made her relent on her prohibition on ice cream. Not as good. Something about whining just isn't inherently persuasive as much as it is annoying, plus, since cogent is persuasive, it requires intent, not just sentience, and not just blunt repetition. My cat's cogent meowing reminded me to clean her litter. Maybe, if I elevate her meowing to talking to me and that she uses it rather effectively to motivate me. Similarly, computers do not generate cogent programs, but rather utilize such programs. So, I would stick to activities of people and only with people, unless you have a really smart pet.


I hope you find this entry cogent and useful!

Prolix v. Prolific

What a difference an x can make!

DD's wotd for today is prolix, a word I would not ordinarily consider using. Prolix just sounds hyper-pretentious, and wordy is sufficiently demeaning and verbose has a more neutral content. But it made me consider a word that I do use, prolific, just because they have the same initial sounds and a somewhat related usage. Could there be something more? No.

Prolix, therefore, derives from the Latin "pro" meaning "forward" and "liquere" as derived from "lixus" meaning "water". Thus, the etymology of water moving forward became "pouring forth", not just water, but as expanded to things that act like "water". At some point, though, the expansion got stuck with words. His first draft was always prolix and in need of good editing. Yes. The writer's meeting generated many prolix comedic ideas. Probably not, since prolix only has usage with words and writing, not ideas or word related tangibles or intangibles. And although I am a writer at heart, this word has an exceedingly limited usage.

Prolific, on the other hand, derives from the Latin "proles" meaning "offspring". Therefore, of course, prolific should mean not just the continued etymological meaning of producing offspring and fertility, but that it should be profuse! I bet a man made up that usage, just to keep a woman barefoot and prolific. [Ed. note: this is the converse of seminal, which is also a word I try to avoid.] She was prolific, producing yet another grandchild. This just sounds silly, although it is technically correct to the lesser usages. Her womb is prolific. Flowers are prolific in spring. Better. His demands were prolific of discord. Really poetic, technically correct and idiotic to state this way. Better to say his demands perpetuated discord. Plaintiff's counsel are good at manufacturing prolific litigation. Hmmm, yes, and it's not quite as offensive as I might find it otherwise since it is being applied to Plaintiff's counsel, who might better serve the legal community as barefoot and prolific. So, I think I shall abstain from using prolific except as it specifically refers to offspring, and use profuse or prodigious or some other word for the quality.

Alas, it seems today has been bereft of useful or good words, and now I feel violated and indignant.

Friday, April 20, 2007

Consort

By request as a further extension of Cavort v. Frolic, it seems that Consort was also raised.

Consort comes from the Latin "con" (with) and "sors" (a share or lot), and by derivation from "consortem" for a partner or neighbor. The nominative usage derives directly from the etymology for some type of partner, whether that be the royal spouse or an accompanying vessel or even just an agreement, but I'm focusing on the verb. By extension of the noun, it came to mean our current usage of not just one who keeps company, but the act of "keeping company, associating" or "uniting in company". After all, it is not uncommon to "verbify" a noun (e.g., Xeroxing, Googling, spamming).

Now, the reason this all came up was probably due to a malapropism of consort with cavort, giving lascivious undertones to the latter which were actually improperly attributed. So, we have usages like "to cavort with a fellow employee" as I previously stated, but really the better usage is "to consort with a fellow employee". The former is the extreme of the less innocent meaning, and still has the happy prancing, while the latter is true intent that these two are engaged in a tryst. In the converse, we have "to consort with the enemy" being mistakenly said as "to cavort with the enemy". Not that I don't think the listener wouldn't understand what was being said, but the former is correct meaning that the two were likely plotting some coup, which the latter really means that the two were prancing somewhere merrily. Could happen, but was probably not what was intended. After figuring out the etymology of cavort with the whole horse thing, I don't think I'll ever confuse these words, and I'll just reserve consort for any sexual overtones and keep cavort pure.

As for usage, it has to be among sentient beings since consort carries an implied meaning of consent to the association. Dogs don't consort with cats, is not just true biologically, but also in order to maintain a calm household. The queen and her consort attended the ball. Duh. Weeds attempt unsuccessfully to consort with grass. Possibly, in a more expanded usage, giving a sarcastic degree of sentience to the weeds. That chair does not consort with that table. No, unless you are a decorator. I don't deign to consort with individuals who misuse common words. Ahh. Now, I feel better.

Steradian

Well, this was a curious little word I stumbled upon last night as I was doing some editing. Steradian comes from the Greek "stereos" for solid and a derivative of the Latin "radius" for "a staff, spoke of a wheel or beam of light". So what does that mean for a "solid ray"? Well, in the technical geometrical sense of the word, it means a unit of area of a sphere proportioned to its radius. For those who don't remember their high school calculus, this can visually look like the rind of a wedge or pyramidial slice of a melon. The oceans represent 9 steradians of the earth surface. Probably. The Sydney Opera House is based on recombining all the sterandians of a sphere. Possibly. The astrophysicist was only able to view a fraction of a steradian of the North Ecliptic Pole due to the unusual telescope mount. Yes. But doesn't anyone really understand that, other than my husband, my husband's friends, my friends... Back to reality. How can I use this word in every day conversation? Well, the flashlight illuminated a steradian of light on the dark alley wall. hmmm. After our wonderful Chinese meal, we left steradian orange wedges on the plate? Throw out the blueberries if they are more than 2 pi steradian covered in mold. Accurate, but incomprehensible. I cut the cantaloupe into steradian slices to put down the garbage disposal? As I sat outside one hot sunny day, licking my Ben & Jerry's oatmeal cookie dough crunch ice cream, I contemplated the percentage of chocolate pieces that were visible in a given steradian of the scoop. If I can't see the chocolate, how do I know I got my money's worth??? She cut a steradian swath of grass on the hill? If pressed, and only if the hill is a hemisphere. His mohawk was nearly a perfect steradian of hair shooting from his head.

Well, that was fun to explore its application to spheres and spherical like things, but I think we can agree that even in the absurd, this word has no practical usage. It would confound and confuse the average listener. So, I'll leave this one to my scientist friends, who should be working now, and save its usage for me for those rare esoteric moments when I don't want to be understood.

Obsessive

This one came to me on a lark. :-)

Obsessive comes from the Latin "ob" for "over, on, toward or against" and "sid(ere)" for "to sit". The combinative Latin form of "obsidere" then came to mean "to occupy, frequent or besiege". I can see how "to sit on or over" might come to mean "occupy or besiege" c. 1503 as in to take over a place and then set up camp, but how does that come to mean "to frequent", except that it might take a few tries to actually conquer the area. But I'm not really happy with that transition. Apparently, the real transition comes that obsessed in the besieging sense came to be associated with evil spirits, and then c. 1605 that these spirits would possess the individual in a persistent influence or idea. [Ed. note: I'll have so see how this compares to "possessed" later.] Then it's just another little leap from persistent to frequent, possibly as the influence was not as pestering, but still regular, but persistent and frequent is a comparison for another day. From the derivation about the evil spirits, we end up with the current definition of something that occupies ones thoughts, feelings or desires.

Now, in practice, obsessive has some great usages, even beyond the OCD. She was obsessive about completing her wotd assignments. Yes, but unfortunately, I'm not as consistent as I'd like to be, and of my friends with whom I originally engaged in this diversion, they've fallen off a long time ago. His obsessive need for approval actual drove away most of his friends. Obsessive works with people and intangibles such as they derive from the activities or emotions of people, but obsessive requires a degree of sentience. My obsessive computer keeps asking me for my password. No, but cute, as it might raise the level of my computer to AI. My cat is obsessive about licking all the lemon juice out of my pores. Yes. Sentience doesn't require intent; just some degree of cognitive thought. After all, it is the evil spirit compelling the activity. After the attempt on her life, paranoia and depression obsessed her waking thoughts, while memories of the incident obsessed her dreams.

And finally, checking a blog every hour might be considered obsessive. Let me know.

Impugn

Hehehe. Let the evil laughter commence, even before I start to discuss the word, because I love this word...

Impugn comes from the Latin "in" (against) and "pugnare" (to fight, from "pugnus" for fist), meaning literally, to fight against physically, so it should come as no surprise that it has come to mean now just "to attack by words or argument, to make insinuations as to credibility", having lost the physical attack, although one of the obsolete meanings was to physically fight against. As I continue to explore these wotd, I find with increasing frequency that etymologies which had an element of physicality against someone became solely a verbal issue. Something to consider.

Of course, one of my favorite usages is the "archaic" one, about "to vilify", and there is actually a statement on the record in a deposition where I told Plaintiff's counsel "not to impugn my good character" with his remarks about the nature of my questions to his client. It was an ad hominum attack because he wanted to try to throw me off my game since it wasn't going so well for his client. Ultimately, got the case dismissed on a motion for summary judgment, which has about a 1 in 20 chance of succeeding.

But in more regular usage, all cross-examination implicitly impugns the credibility of the evidence being presented, and perhaps impugns the credibility of the person testifying as well. There distinction between the "archaic" usage and the common definition is whether the comment is directly or indirectly attacking the person. "You're stupid" or "didn't they teach you to xxx in law school" directly impugns, while "how could you know the color of the car when you were distracted and looking in the other direction" indirectly impugns. Now, since impugn calls into question credibility, it can only be used with the intangibles of people (statements, ethics, motivations). The obsolete usage of to physically attack someone is still between people. The lion does not impugn the lion tamer, even in the obsolete. Nor does the boxer doesn't usually impugn his opponent, unless it is a grudge match, because it still implies an element that there is a personal matter. After impugning the character of the lady, her champion took up a sword to impugn the scoundrel. Yes, getting at both usages. And finally, I regularly impugn the propriety of using words incorrectly. Enjoy.

Thursday, April 19, 2007

Suasion

Because I'm currently out-of-town and don't have as much consistent free time to keep up with wotd (plus, there are some recent words that rather annoy than inspire me--trice? bedaub???), here is another from my archives.

Suasion. I remember this word raising my hackles a couple of years ago when it was the wotd on August 13, 2001. [Ed. note: why must DD recycle words so quickly? It became wotd again on September 10, 2006. Probably means we are due for it again on November 7, 2011. Get ready!] DD defines both "suasion" and "persuasion" as "the act of persuading". Now, normally, I would start with there are no true synonyms and distinguish the etymologies on each, except the etymologies are a little fuzzy. Persuasion says it comes from Latin, "persuasion", while suasion says it comes from "suasion", so these are unhelpful, and the mere addition of the "per" meaning "through" doesn't add anything. Persuasion does not really mean through suasion, because the definition of suasion is backward to that construction. Suasion means through persuasion (and therefore should actually be "perpersuasion"). Or do the “per”s cancel? So, I think we have an issue of lazy usage being justified retroactively. If only I were near my OED. Maybe I'll supplement later. But, I'll make one last stab at a distinction, just for old times sake. The usage of suasion in the examples is non-specific, to a general perspective (e.g., moral or cultural norms), while persuasion is for a definite idea or opinion. I regularly persuade the judge to my argument, or try to persuade people to order different things off the menu so we can share and sample, but I might try to suade a child to be kind to animals or to always say please and thank you.

Good luck suading or persuading, as you see fit...

Efficacious v. Effective

Part because this was the wotd a couple of days ago and part by request for the comparison to effective, I finally have time to think about how these words relate.

Well, it turns out, I don't have to think to hard. Efficacious comes from the Latin "ef", a derivative of "ex" for "out" and "facere" for "to do or make", meaning poetically, to bring about and effective comes from the same Latin origin. Thus, the etymology of effective is consistent with the current usage. So, the only difference is the second adjectival ending on effective making it into efficacious is, as we learned in "robustious", that the second adjectival ending makes the original adjective into "possessing the qualities of" whatever the original adjective was. As I described then, it is adjective-lite.

So, in practice, lawmakers aspire to make effective law, but only end up with efficacious law until it is overturned by the Court. Yes, and true. Efficacious medicines are good enough so that the manufacturers won't get sued, but not effective enough to actually cure the disease since there's no market for that. Yes, and cynically true. Telling the younger brother to stop hitting his older sister as they were driving cross-country was efficacious in short bursts, but playing the on-board DVD on "The Little Mermaid" was effective to stop not only the fight, but all whining, questions and other noises from the back seat. Yes, and it's a good movie. Plaintiff's counsel's oppositions to my motions for summary judgment are only ever efficacious. Plaintiff's counsel's themselves are never really effective. Do I need to state my position on this?

Therefore, I would tend to make effective use of effective, and save efficacious when I want to make fun of something that should have been effective.

Monday, April 16, 2007

Cavort v. Frolic

And since I am stuck in the airport, waiting for my flight, I will engage in a few more words.

Well, cavort just conjures images of prancing, which in turn raised frolic as an almost natural counterpart. I'll talk about frolic v. detour later.

Cavort has a questionable etymology, allegedly from Latin "cur(vare)" (curved) and "volvere" (turn or roll) through old French "vault" (arch), it became a curved leap, and then somehow, something someone would do when leaping from a horse, likely because c. 1565, this became a term in dressage (curvet for "little curve") for a leap a horse would do from a rearing position springing its hind legs and descending onto its front legs. Obviously, someone then either thought that the dismount was as graceful as the horse's leap, or that the rider was acting like a horse (or both), and c. 1790 the American term "cavort" was born of a "cavault", a curved leap, or the high spirited prancing of the horse. One step further and we get "lively and boisterous fun" likely from how much "fun" we think the horse is having when unnaturally jumping like that (or maybe the audience reaction). Whew.

Now, in practice, cavort has a broader usage. Of course, we talk about children cavorting in the meadow. That's harmless and innocent. Dolphins cavorting around the ship. Also harmless and innocent. And then cavorting with an colleague. hehehe. And therein lay the overtones of "making merry" more than the literal "leaping". Do I need to spell it out?

Back to innocence. Frolic has nothing to do with a horse, but comes from the German "frolich" for happy, ironically enough, coined at around the same time as the dressage term of curvet (c. 1538). Frolic just means happy, but through usage has also come to mean how one acts when one is just so happy, as in to be playful, prone to merrymaking, and possibly the occasional prank. How "happy" became "prank", I don't even want to contemplate, unless we keep it at the innocence of hiding books and tapping the wrong shoulder, and nothing malevolent. Think giddy, maybe even a touch loopy, and that's the level of prank that is really at issue. No one would ever say the frolicking children put tacks on the teacher's chair. But the frolicking children would cavort in the meadow. So compared to cavort, frolic just means the state of happiness which may be exhibited in some manner, while cavort means the leaping, regardless of the happiness, although the happiness may be implied by the fact of the leaping (or the fact of the proper type of leaping). I don't think the dolphins cavorted because they were intrinsically happy, but because the ship gave them a good draft to "play" in. While, his normal morning frolic through the office was clouded by the imminent IRS audit.

Well, my plane is going to board shortly, and thus I must abandon this frolic through wotd in favor of my detour perhaps to my destination, weather permitting. Just a quick foreshadowing.... ;-)

Bluster; Deluge

In honor of the East Coast weather, I have decided to abandon today's wotd in favor of two more appropriate words.

Bluster derives from the Norse "blastr" for "blowing or hissing", and still means to roar of be tumultuous, as a wind. I don't think it quite means the gale forces that are whipping around the house, now, but definitely enough to blow my hair in all directions. The aspect of the "hissing" has been mostly lost, transmuted into just generic loudness. And really, the wind doesn't make a hissing as much as it make a whooshing or howling, unless hissing is a bad whistle. But all in all, this word still retains much of its original etymology through to usage. Of course, the idea of the blowing wind also got applied to people who are so inclined as to sound like blowing wind, but that doesn't bother me. I probably would have made that leap anyway in my "expanded" usages. So, the blustering wind flipped over the boat last night and knocked down several power lines. All his blustering about the wind did not stop Mother Nature's onslaught. And I can only hope that my flight today will not be accosted by sudden drops in altitude due to blustering winds. Plaintiff's counsel's blustering did not conceal the fact that his client had stood him up for the hearing.

Now, it does appear to me that "blustering winds" has either become a catch phrase, or may be somehow redundant in the face of bluster referring to wind which already blows. If the wind doesn't blow, is it really wind? Or just stagnant air. But bluster does add a level of description to the wind well above breeze or zephyr. What is odd is that blusterer doesn't have the same connotation of being another noun shaving description of the wind unlike breeze or zephyr, but seems to apply more to the person who talks like such wind. A real blusterer, he was mostly ignored by his colleagues. Not, the blusterer unexpectedly tipped over the lawn statuary--unless this is the person pulling a practical joke. So, there is a need to still use "bluster" with "wind" in order to get at the noun.

And where there is wind, can rain be far behind? Deluge comes from the Latin "diluvium" for "flood" having gone through a couple of evolutions prior with "diluere" for "to wash away or dissolve", having derived from "lavere" for "to wash". I suppose with enough water, anything would be "dissolved" or "washed away"... And deluge still means a great flood or inundation of water. So, the rains on the East Coast are threatening to deluge most cities with a foot or more of water. Now, while I don't tend to use bluster outside the real wind, notwithstanding that I have met my fair share of Plaintiffs' counsels (they mostly grandstand, not bluster). But deluge! Now, there's a word I can sink my teeth into. She was deluged in paperwork, bills, discovery responses, accolades, blog requests [well, I can hope!]... Anything that can be likened to a flood works equally well with deluge, tangible or intangible.

So, please stay warm and dry, and may your wind and rain for today only be in the form of these words!

Saturday, April 14, 2007

Accede v. Concede

Today's wotd, accede, has raised my own comparison that I have been want to do for some time, particularly given that these are verbs I use rather regularly. It's about time I understand their true nuances.

Accede derives from the Latin "accedere" for "ad" (to, toward) and "cedere" (to move, to yield). Poetically, then the word literally means to move or yield to or toward something or someone, and thus, to agree or assent. Meanwhile, concede derives from the same root "cedere", but with the prefix "con" meaning with or together. Therefore, poetically, concede means to move or yield with or together, and therefore, apparently derives to mean "to acknowledge as true, just or proper" or "to make a concession". Ah, the difference a prefix can make. Well, the evolution of the usage of accede makes sense, the idea that as one comes to accept a thought, one moves towards that side, whether literally (back when voting occurred by counting bodies on the two sides of a room) or figuratively (still retaining that convention). But the "con" prefix does not tend to add any veracity to the decision, except inasmuch as when people move "together" on an idea, they jointly (and severally) believe it is correct for whatever reason--else why would they yield to the idea.

Unfortunately, compounding the problem, concede and accede are used nearly interchangeably--that one may both accede to someone's wishes and concede to that same someone's wishes. So what is the difference? Accede connotes a degree of belief and willingness on the part of the one changing a position, while concede connotes a reluctance or pressure to make the change. Parents often accede to their children's whims every now and then. But the lower ranked chess player conceded the win to his opponent. Perhaps he shouldn't have--there is still much to be learned in losing a match. Boot camp teaches its enlisted personnel accede to the rigors of training, but never to concede to the enemy. Eh, in a pinch. To move on in oral argument to the substantive issue does not concede the procedural issue as much as accede to the wishes of the Court perhaps to discuss the weightier issue.

Ok, so my instincts have been right because the distinction has only been based on the connotations and not the etymology, or even the definitions. Go figure. I accede to my instincts, and concede that DD may never be useful.

Friday, April 13, 2007

Spoonerism; Metathesis

Today's wotd from DD is spoonerism. Ordinarily, I would be unimpressed with a word, the origin of which is someone's name, since that would seem very mean-spirited. But there we have it. Spoonerism derives from the Rev. William A. Spooner, who was known to swap the initial sounds of words (blushing crow instead of crushing blow). So, not only does this word have an uninteresting etymology, which, for what its worth, is still the sole meaning of the word, but it really only has that one usage. Drunk, he was more inclined to slurring words than demanding another "bold keer". Tongue twisters lead to interesting spoonerisms. Even as I put on my creative thinking cap, I still am having a hard time inventing any "expanded" or "extreme" usages for this word. Could it be a spoonerism to misintroduce a couple by identifying each with the other's name? A different kind of initial sound being swapped? Probably not because the reason one tends to do that is because a pair of names is learned in an order, and then the reflex is to say the names in that order regardless of where the people are standing relative to one another. It might be a stretch of a spoonerism to connect the leads backward on a switch, but probably not. Swapping alone is not the critical element. It has to be swapping of something initial of a multipart construction, whether that be a word or something else. Well, I'm not interested in trying to figure out any more potential misusages of this word. If I stumble upon one later, I'll update this post.

But knowning that I would find spoonerism dull, I thought I'd add metathesis, which I think is a fascinating word. Metathesis comes from the Greek "meta" for "to change" and "tithenai" for "to put or set", so quite literally, to change place or transposition. It applies to a physical transposition as well as a linguistic transposition, but the physical meaning has become almost exclusively reserved to chemistry, leaving the linguistic meaning to the lay folk. Thus, metathesis is the swapping of sounds when pronouncing a single word. "Psaghetti" "ephelant" or "methatesis". From the first two, you can guess that such pronounciations are usually done by children. Now, metathesis only occurs in pronounciation--in writing, the excuse is a typo. "Teh" or "adn" are not metathesis, but rather the fact that I can type faster than the computer can process my key strokes (although my spell checker may disagree for the number of times it hasn't auto-corrected "revelent"). And when I write longhand, that is still not metathesis because I haven't transposed anything as much as I've started the beginning of one word now with the ending of the next, and my brain has gotten ahead of my hand. [Ed. note: what's the word for that?] Pig Latin is deliberate metathesis. Transliteration of R/L by Asian speakers is not metathesis since there is no swapping of sounds self-contained in a word, but a swapping of sounds regardless of whether they exist in the word. So, like spoonerism, metathesis has a consistent usage with its etymology and basically one non-specialized usage. Now, does metathesis have more opportunity for expansion? Absolutely, just for using its basic meaning of transposition outside chemistry and linguistics. Children lining up for recess often undergo a hierarchical metathesis. Although applying both of those nickel words to children and recess just sounds like I'm writing some psychology dissertation. Mediators try to get the parties to engage in a mental metathesis to encourage them to understand the issues from the other side. Magic box tricks are not so much metathesis as sleight of hand.

So, I simply love this word, metathesis. It rolls so trippingly off the tongue and few people know what it means that I can yet again be opaque in my very explicit meaning. Unfortunately, I am more guilty of spoonerisms than metathesis, and would rather it be in the inverse so as never to have the word spoonerism applied to me. Still sounds mean.

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Nescience

This is another archival post, and one of my favorites as well. Nescience.

Quite honestly, I never heard this word before, and that intrigues me. Nescience has a unique enough pronounciation that I don't automatically associate it with anything else. It's got "science" which is the knowledge part, but the "ne", doesn't leap out to me that it is negative prefix (unlike "un" "in" or "de" or just plain "not). Its Latin origins of "nescire" allegedly for "not" "to know" don't help either. So, given this word on the SATs, I probably would have gotten the answer wrong, and that intrigues me all the more. Her nescience on the derivation of the word nescience ensured that she would miss the question? His nescience on how a woman would respond to his plebian pick up line guaranteed that he would never have a first date. I wonder if it would apply to tangible knowledge rather than abstract concepts. His nescience on how to set up the TiVo despite the explicit instructions in the manual, which he stubbornly refused to read, meant that they were always tethered to watching prime time TV live? Seems a bit overkill. Her nescience about the ceiling collapse of the Big Dig stunned her listeners? Or her nescience about a recent Supreme Court opinion in her area of practice caused her to be fired? Maybe. I think nescience would best be paired with a lack of understanding or lack of knowledge of something that is supposed to be well, or at least widely, known, unless you really wanted to elevate the knowledge that the person doesn't understand for emphasis (i.e., raising the failure to know how to plug something in compared to knowledge of the problems of world hunger, as if to say everyone else but you knows how to plug in a TiVo). I'll have to mull this word over some more. Her nescience about standard choral music while being in one of the premiere choruses in the country continued to cause amusement and a bit of condescention from her fellow choresters. Nescience. Interesting. Has possibilities.

Ok, time to go do something less scholarly, like catch up on reading
Variety and The New Yorker so I have less nescience. Still sounds like it should be an adjective to me, even though that's nescient... I'll keep working on it.

Putsch v. Coup

Well, my gut response to Putsch was that was not a word, since it is capitalized, but then I remembered it was of German origin, where they capitalize all their nouns. My second response was what was wrong with coup? And therein lies the rub.

Coup comes from the Greek "kolaphos" for a blow or slap, through the Latin "colaphus" for a cuff or blow to the face/ear, and ultimately through the old French "colp" for "to cut or strike". It's not hard to imagine how a physical swift, unexpected slap to the face which impugns ones dignity could be used to mean a metaphorical swift, unexpected slap to ones dignity by removing someone from power. Meanwhile, Putsch comes from the same word in Schweizerdeutsch meaning a violent blow or push, from onomatopoeia for the action. Both definitely have the implicit meaning of usurping power in some manner, but Putsch is more violent in its origin than coup, a push being more physical than a slap, and therefore, a Putsch may be effect by mere brute force of numbers, while a coup is usually associated with a smaller group. Also, Putsch need not be sudden, unlike coup, which is unexpected to the recipient. Finally, Putsch evolved specifically in 1830 relative to a revolt in Zurich, while coup has existed to describe any clever, successfully executed but unexpected plan since c. 1400. Therefore, Putsch only refers to government overthrows, while coup has broader usage, even though it is colloquially immediately associated solely with government overthrow.

So, while I may not have much need for the use of Putsch, largely because so few people will know what the word means, and might think, since I can pronoun it with a proper German accent (I'll work on my Schweizerdeutsch later), that I am merely saying "push", coup has so much more potential. Was it a Putsch to try to impeach Clinton? This past senatorial election was a Putsch to the Republican leadership. Yes, and yes. But these sentences would sound just as good, and a bit more understandable with "coup". Was it a coup to try to impeach Clinton? The Democratic party mounted a coup of the Republican leadership in the last senatorial election. It may not have been sudden, but it was definitely unexpected to many. His attempted coup to have the house for an evening of beer and poker by encouraging his wife to go to the movies with her friends failed when she discovered the keg in the garage. Perhaps, but plan or scheme works better. It was a real coup to get the celebrity endorsement away from his competitor. This is a common expression, even without the express idea of taking it away from someone else, which is otherwise implied. Knowing that it was going to be cold that night, she staged a coup to get all the covers. Yes.

And again, while I don't do phrases or foreign languages, and particularly not the combination of both, I will make a passing reference that "coup d'etat" and "coup de grace", both French, utilize the meaning of "blow" for "coup", but still retain the meaning of taking power, either from the state (d'etat) or a final act (de grace).

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

Abecedarian

Prior to today, there had been a derth of good words (well, maybe just a lull), but I did promise some more nouns.

Yesterday's wotd was abecedarian, and I would sooner use animadversion in casual conversation than this idiotic construct. Abecedarian pretty clearly derives from the first four letters of the alphabet, apparently as coined by the Romans. [Ed. note: what were they drinking? Lead???] Ok, so clearly, it means at least on one level, of or relating to the alphabet, and then things that are arranged alphabetically (although that descriptor of "alphabetic order" seems pretty comprehensive and useful), and then finally, things that are as basic as the alphabet (or one who is just beginning to learn a new subject including the alphabet), and it is only in this last usage that we can really get to anything interesting. Well, there's the obvious that little children are quintessential abecedarians, without any derogatory overtones. They really are just learning everything, including the alphabet. 1Ls are abecedarians to the law, and remain so through the first few years of practice. True, and likely uncontested, but I might still prefer novice or acolyte despite the religious overtones. Most Plaintiff's counsel remain abecedarians as to how to evaluate a case, let alone how to write a motion. Accurate and derogatory rolled into one! And on the adjective side of the word, we have his files were not abecedarian, but chronological. Only because of the reference to chronological do we understand what was really intended by the use of abecedarian. Or after having read a sonnet for the first time, one has only the most abecedarian understanding of its depth or meaning. Yes, but rudimentary is better. Or Now, we get to the possible usage. The daughter of a wealthy merchant, she exclaimed "how abecedarian!" when presented with a ring of paste and plate gold, and carefully put the thing aside. But how many times do we really get to dismiss something as "quaint". Well, I guess only when get the mail. Most Plaintiff's counsel's arguments are so abecedarian as to be utterly laughable. Noun, adjective, it's still a questionable word, and it's usage, pompous. I've got better in my arsenal to use on Plaintiff's counsel than this fodder.

Rivulet

I find that I am rarely ambivalent about a word, and rivulet is no exception. I like this word. I use this word, even though it is limited in its usage. So, let's get started:

Now, even before I check the etymology of this word, doesn't rivulet look like it means "little river"? "Rivu" looks like it derives from some word like "river" and "et" is the diminutive ending for "little" ("et" for masculine gender nouns and "ette" for feminine gender nouns). So, it should come as no surprise that rivulet derives from the Latin "rivulus", a diminutive of "rivus" for river. That's it. Nothing special about the etymology to the current usage. Still the same little river. What is fun about this word is the usage. Of course, the torrential rains made every rivulet into a raging surge of water. Or after washing her car, the rain dripped off in myriad rivulets. Her tears ran down her face like rivulets. Bad wine doesn't have "legs" but "rivulets". So, clearly, rivulet can be used with the actual stream, water in other forms, and things that act like water (running, dripping, flowing). But that's too easy. Lacking a good vocabulary, his anger did not so much pour from his mouth as a stream, but rather as a rivulet. Maybe. Comments on her blog were barely rivulets. Possibly, and accurate too. Plaintiff's counsel's argument had all the force of a rivulet. hehehe. Life is like a rivulet... Ok, that was a bad attempt at humor. Clearly, rivulet can work with other intangibles that may be analogized (metaphorized???) to water, and not even just for sarcastic value! Now, just as an aside, rivulet is only a noun. Her ideas were rivuleting or his sweat rivuleted down his back? I won't even begin to discuss how wrong those are. It is a fine noun and has plenty of opportunity to be used just as the noun that it is. Let the usages of rivulet flow!

Monday, April 9, 2007

Obviate; Obfuscate

Well, obviate came up recently as a wotd, and I just couldn't get enough of words with a "b", ever since the silent "b" of ostensible.

Obviate comes from the Latin "obvius" for "against" "the way", but colloquially meaning "that is in the way; that goes against" which got conjugated into "to act contrary to; go against" for the act of the person rather than the physical placement of a person or thing. However, by the time of the Renaissance, the word then came to mean "to meet and do away with". So, how and why did the perspective of the word change from describing the impediment to getting rid of the impediment, for which DD is completely inadequate on this point. OED's entry may shed some light on this. Apparently, there is an obsolete [I'll get to this word later!] definition which means "to meet, encounter; hence to withstand, oppose (a person or thing)," consistent with the idea that meeting someone or something inherently in your way was acting against by withstanding or opposing this person or thing. A second usage evolved contemporaneously to this obsolete usage then that the act of meeting the obstacle [another word I'll get to later] was "to meet and do away with" the obstacle, and then rather than wait to meet the obstacle, the word's meaning evolved further to prevent the anticipated obstacle. So, we can see the rather straightforward expansion of the word, but in no way does it really mean with it's etymological roots suggest.

As for usage, this is a great word, but like clarion, has a particular catch phrase usage. Obviate the need or obviate a need. The anticipated closings due to snow may obviate a need to call in sick. However, unlike clarion, the word can be used without sounding odd alone. The video tape corroborating the defendant's alibi obviated all doubt as his credibility. It should be noted that obviate now as a preventative of the obstacle means that it will completely remove the obstacle, not merely mitigate or lessen. In fact, you might hope to mitigate the effect of an obligation you could not obviate, such as a family dinner. And as a preventative now, obviate works with abstractions which are based on perception/thought (duties, needs, tendencies) (his new medications obviated his thoughts of suicide) and still with the conduct which was in opposition (her co-counsel's offering to write the opposition to Plaintiff's emergency motion to compel obviated her having to stay late; Plaintiff's acceptance of the offer of settlement obviated the trial). Furthermore, the obstacle doesn't need to be so onerous or thorough as it once meant as long as the obstacle is perceived to be contrary to an implied desired action. So, perhaps Plaintiff's acceptance of the offer of settlement unfortunately obviated the trial since she was confident she could secure a defense verdict. That the conductor was not too familiar with the music to give appropriate cues obviated the chorus' from the need to memorize the piece. The usage is correct, although the sentiment is not. Sometimes is it more useful to memorize such music in order to deal with a tentative conductor. But I still tend to use obviate with a need, and reserve verbs which are more simply understood alone, such as exonerate, alleviate or just plain remove, and as for the family dinner obligation, that would be a stay of execution.

Now, obfuscate just sounds great, with all those consonants! It does not roll trippingly off the tongue, and in not doing so, it draws the attention of the listener, just as the people who have trouble saying it also draw the attention of the listener. So, practice this word at home before you try it in public. Similarly, in writing, it looks odd (that "bf" combo) that is also stands out, like a possible typo.

Anyway, back to the word. Obfuscate comes from the Latin "obfuscare" for to darken over. There still is a retained meaning of simply "to darken", but I can hardly ever believe I would say "Let's obfuscate the room, honey" or "the recent power outage obfuscated entire city blocks" or even "on a sunny day, only the clouds can obfuscate the hills". It's just too odd, although I will note that since obfuscate has that preposition of "over" from the original Latin, any use of "to darken" must be darkening by covering or making opaque so light cannot pass, therefore, only the last usage is really correct. Obfuscate the parrot cage for the evening. Obfuscate the light bulb by adding a lamp shade. But in the nature of darkening, as it covers or opaques something from view, obfuscate has taken on a meaning of covering or opaquing intangibles from understanding, and then finally covering or opaquing an individual from understanding. He successfully avoided the speeding ticket by obfuscating the officer in a lengthy explanation of his mother's illness which he just got the phone call from his ex-wife while he was at his daughter's piano recital... But I don't prefer that usage, since I don't really associate obfuscate with confusing people as much as with burying an idea that one does not want to be know. He successfully avoided the speeding ticket by obfuscating his need to get to the beach in a lengthy explanation of his mother's illness... That's better. I was never able to obfuscate my grandmother into thinking I hadn't had the candy. Maybe, in a pinch, although dupe is better. I was never able to obfuscate my fiendish designs to garner another piece of candy in the veil of innocent. Perhaps a bit too poetic, but passable. Plaintiff's counsel tried to obfuscate the judge of his client's weak case by arguing the equity rather than the law. Yes. And this is where I tend to use this word, and have heard this word used. So, second usage only for me as we try to obfuscate inconsistent theories, lame excuses, guilt, blame... You get the picture. Works like a charm, perhaps because the word obfuscate tends to obfuscate people.