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CONJUNCTIONS: A Web Exclusive |
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The Word Laid Bare, Part I Paul West
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Archangel, Blind Nettle, Snowflake, White Dead Nettle Mint Family Labiatae. druid No doubt from French druide or the Latin plural druides (the priests and wise men of the Gauls and Britons). The sources was Gaulish druides (was there a taboo against mentioning just one druid, a sort of compulsory class-action suit afoot in the Dark Ages?), from Old Celtic derwijes. Behind this there is either the Old Celtic adjective derwos (true: source of Welsh derw), hence by implication a druid was a soothsayer, which isn't a bad notion. Or there is the Old Celtic base dru for "tree," whence Welsh derwen and Irish daur (oak-tree, both), which makes sense when we are talking about a religious cult centred on that very tree. foot of the fine Nothing to do with the light fantastic, at common law this is the fifth part of a fine's conclusion, including the whole matter, reciting the names of the parties, day, year, and place, and before whom acknowledged or levied. Jactus lapilli Coarsely put, "the rock-chuck." If someone else builds on your land, and thus acquires a right of way (usucapio), you can challenge him and interrupt the prescriptive right by throwing down one of the stones he has put up. Have this rock-chuck witnessed by people specially enlisted. Do not do this with too big a rock. Laches French, "you loosen." Equity aids the vigilant and not those who slumber on their rights. Laches occurs when someone neglects to assert a right or claim, or for an unreasonable and unexplained length of time fails to do what in law should have been done. It has to do with not looking after your property as you should. Loosening slackening, paying no heed at all figure in the mistake. le confort anglais French for an English easy chair, with just a hint of disapproval built into the phrase since French for "comfort" is confort, which may seem an intimate insinuation. Clearly, French comfort or confort is bleaker stuff, designed to keep your mind in top running order lest a brilliant mind stop by and engage you in conversation. The English chair puts you to sleep, the French one readies you for an exam. one-upmanship Gaining the advantage over one's opponent, especially through psychological deviousness, and keeping it; adroitness in the game of life. Phrase invented by British humorist and TV performer Stephen Potter. ooftish From the Yiddish oyf tishe, "on the table," meaning money available for gambling or investment. Late 1800s. pelmet This elegant, often rectilinear structure, like half of a dismantled box, conceals the curtain rod, its hoops and the tops of the drapes. The French diminutive of palme, signifying the palm-leaf cluster like the fingers of the hand, came to stand for an ornamental device often found on cornices, and gave us pelmet, which while thematically congruous has got quite beyond itself. A common assumption, that pelmet is akin to helmet, isn't that wide of the mark, metaphorically speaking at least. Helmet is from the Old French helmet, a diminutive of helme. sal volatile Traditionally the smelling salts that revive those enduring the vapors (fainting). The salts are ammonium carbonate in alcohol or ammonia water, or both, graced with perfume or eau de cologne. Effective too against headaches. Oxygen seems to have replaced sal volatile nowadays, but unlike ammonia, which evaporates readily, it does not help you to fly. Volatile images the flight of a Sanskrit wing, garut of the mythic bird garuda. Sloane Ranger Young upper-class person, most often female, who has a home in both London and the country and wears expensive "county" (tweedy) clothes, pursuing a self-centered, blith existence mainly of night-life. The name mingles the Lone Ranger with the region of London called Sloane Square. Her male equivalent, her "oppo," is a Hooray Henry or Hurrah Henry, like her in having more money than sense. soccer This nineteenth-century word was coined from Association Football as distinguished from Rugby Football. Another word for soccer, mostly in use in British public schools, is footer (the suffix -er usually means activity). Actually, of course, North America is the only country to use the word on a regular basis, although I have seen "soccer" matches advertised in the British Virgin Islands. The world in general says football or fulbol, or something such. It may be confusing to some patrons of over-the-counter remedies to discover that Rugby is the name (and manufacturer) of a stool softener; one wonders why the energetic wall-game of a famous English public school came to mind with hard feces and so forth, but no such link has yet formed itself with either football or soccer. (Sometimes, especially in the 1890s, spelled socker.) spa Named for Spa, a salubrious town in Belgium, near Liege, famous for its mineral springs, this is what the French (and the Belgians) call a station thermale. Why do we like spa? Perhaps because it is easier to say, American English on the whole preferring short versions of things (though automobile makes you wonder). In your car it isn't far to a spa. It makes Texans feel at home too, because they think there are spies all over it. Spas do us good, not so much for their mud or water, as for the increased amount of open-air exercise we take there, the dietary restraints, the fresh company, the programmed ease so expensive and pampered. Perhaps we prosper there because the attendants treat us as if we were healthy. supersede One of many Latin verbs that begin with super-(superstagnare means to spread out into a lake), this one has to do with sitting above something or somebody, presiding over, sitting out, refraining or forbearing; but so many people write it with a c, confusing it with cedere, which means almost the opposite: to go away, to yield, to give ground to, to be inferior to, to give up a right. Why is this so? Because people find it hard to believe anything as prosaic as sitting can happen in verb form? Surely not. For some momentary reason the s eludes them, puts them off, much as the e in memento which they write momento. In theory, then, God help such a word as se (which exists in Latin) but which many would write co. tilde Another diacritical mark, set over an n to require the palatal nasal sound (ny) as in cañon or, in Portuguese, over a vowel to indicate nasalization (Joâo). It means "title," from Latin titulus -- a little title hovering above. Uncore prist Plea or replication by which a party alleges he is still ready to pay or perform all that is justly demanded of him. Twisted French, this, best deciphered as encore prêt, "still ready." Voluntarius daemon Literally, a voluntary madman or demon. Term applied by Lord Edward Coke (1552-1634) to a drunkard who has become mad through intoxication. It was Coke who convicted the Gunpowder Plotters that included Guy Fawkes. vomitory Not immediately connected with vomit, this odd word, once meaning emetic, is an entrance that pierces the banks of seats in a theatre or stadium. Literally it spews the fans or theatergoers in and out. The Word Laid Bare, Part II The Word Laid Bare, Part III
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