Link Banana

The article in the last post mentions that both leotard and cardigan are eponyms. I hadn’t known that.

Other surprises from a list of eponyms on Wikipedia:

• lynching
• bloomers
• silhouette
• boycott
• sideburns
• chauvanism
• guy
• gerrymandering
• mausoleum
• shrapnel

Apparently, that’s what a Greek would say to things that we’d call Greek.

The strangest thing I see on chart is that some French apparently call things they don’t understand Javanese. Is there some historical linkage I don’t know about between the people of France and an Indonesian island? A commenter suggests that the chart may be intending Javanais.

(via kottke)

This is interesting:

But there’s a wide range of definitions of “home” among Americans who have lived in at least one place besides their original hometown: 26% say it’s where they were born or raised; 22% say it’s where they live now; 18% say it’s where they have lived the longest; 15% say it’s where their family comes from; and 4% say it’s where they went to high school.

(via Big Contrarian)

A conservation site for nearly dead words. You can do your part by pledging to start using a few in normal conversation.

(via BF)

I’ve always been curious about Esperonto, so when this post led me to this story which pointed to this site where I found the introductory course in the title link, I had to spend a few minutes working through the very straightforward and informative introduction.

A beautiful, well-designed (and apparently smut-free) alternative to Urban Dictionary, the coolest feature about Addictionary is probably that you can request a word for your definition of a new thing.

(via Neatorama)

Forvo’s a relatively-new site collecting pronunciations by native speakers. It’s current library’s disappointingly small — it has nothing to contribute to my constant waffling on “machination” and “gnocci” — but it’s still a neat idea.

(via matt.cc)

That’s my response to this thoroughly boring etymology of the word.

The origins of “meh” are murky, but the term grew in popularity after being used in a 2001 episode of “The Simpsons” in which Homer suggests a day trip to his children Bart and Lisa.
“They both just reply ‘meh’ and keep watching TV,” said Cormac McKeown, head of content at Collins Dictionaries.

(via Mr. Coates)

I debated for a while whether to Twitter or post this new-to-me neologism (discovered here), I obviously chose the latter.

The etymology of this is a little vexing; my guess is that it grew out of the belief that the people who make or serve dogfood should try it before giving it to canines. Ah, Wikipedia confirms.

This may explain my feelings about Sarah Palin’s speech patterns:

Overall, because of the mixture of people and the large number of newcomers, Alaskan English is often hard to place, with both Westerners and Midwesterners thinking that it sounds oddly foreign; indeed, some Westerners have said that Palin sounds like a Midwesterner, and Midwesterners that she sounds Western.

Though this quiz is a tad on the detail-oriented side, I did enjoy it. I’m guessing you can do better than 23, but you’ll need to be able to tell an Estonian accents from a Lithuanian. Or a Canadian from an American.

(via Passport)

I wasn’t aware of the massive unpopularity of semicolons among male literary types; apparently only the effete are supposed to use them.

Ben McIntyre, writing in the Times of London a couple of months later, added to the collection of semicolon snubbers: Kurt Vonnegut called the marks “transvestite hermaphrodites representing absolutely nothing.” Hemingway and Chandler and Stephen King, said McIntyre, “wouldn’t be seen dead in a ditch with a semi-colon (though Truman Capote might). Real men, goes the unwritten rule of American punctuation, don’t use semi-colons.”

From Tierra del Fuego’s Yaghan language, the definition of this “world’s most succinct word”:

It describes a look shared by two people with each wishing that the other will initiate something that both desire but which neither one wants to start. This could perhaps be translated more succinctly as “eye-contact implying ‘after you…’”. A more literal approximation is “ending up mutually at a loss as to what to do about each other”.

(via kottke)

Steven Levitt explains and considers:

Blacks who “sound black” earn salaries that are 10 percent lower than blacks who do not “sound black,” even after controlling for measures of intelligence, experience in the work force, and other factors that influence how much people earn. (For what it is worth, whites who “sound black” earn 6 percent lower than other whites.)

China, forced by the Olympic to worry about the translations of restaurant’s food names, has mandated changes to some of the weirdest ones. Dishes being changed:

• Bean curd made by a pock-marked woman (to become “Mapo tofu”)
• Chicken without sexual life (to become “Steamed pullet”)
• Husband and wife’s lung slice (to become “Beef and ox tripe in chili sauce”)

(via kottke, who also highlights a Manhattan restaurant serving “sea urchin bukkake”)

My best attempt to write the proper pronunciation.

(via Snarkmarket)

Joseph Bottum’s neologism for words with a ” kind of poetic, extralogical accuracy.” Some exploration:

In a logical sense, of course, some words are literally true or false when applied to themselves. Words about words, typically: Noun is a noun, though verb is not a verb. Polysyllabic is self-true, and monosyllabic is not. And this logical notion of autology can be extended. If short seems a short word, true of itself, then the shorter long must be false of itself.

But what about jab or fluffy or sneer, each of them true in a way that goes beyond logic? Verbose has always struck me as a strangely verbose word. Peppy has that perky, energetic, spry sound it needs. And was there ever a more supercilious word than supercilious? Or one more lethargic than lethargic?

(via Coudal)

Another reason to love Wikipedia.

Joan Acocella offers a thoroughly New Yorker-y exploration of hangovers in this week’s issue (and finishes with a thoroughly annoying conclusion). My favorite bit was this:

Some words for hangover, like ours, refer prosaically to the cause: the Egyptians say they are “still drunk,” the Japanese “two days drunk,” the Chinese “drunk overnight.” The Swedes get “smacked from behind.” But it is in languages that describe the effects rather than the cause that we begin to see real poetic power. Salvadorans wake up “made of rubber,” the French with a “wooden mouth” or a “hair ache.” The Germans and the Dutch say they have a “tomcat,” presumably wailing. The Poles, reportedly, experience a “howling of kittens.” My favorites are the Danes, who get “carpenters in the forehead.”

Speaking of language, Portugal has given in and accepted Brazilian spellings of words. (Also, congratulations to the BBC employee that came up with the title: “Reform spells change for Portugal.” Get it?)

The agreement standardises numerous spellings and adds three letters - k, w and y - to the alphabet.

A large majority of lawmakers backed government proposals to phase in the changes during the next six years.

(via Passport)