I told you. Didn’t I tell you? I promised you new content and I delivered! What follows is the first issue of the Butter Lamb News, which contains 95 percent new content (the first piece is a reworked item posted on I posted on the BLRL Blog a long time ago). In it you’ll find dictionary-related news and content, investigations into new words I’ve encountered, discussions of new Butter Lamb Reference Library acquisitions, and more — and I’ve provided it for you absolutely free of charge. Enjoy.
I know, it’s been a while since I’ve posted anything in this space. I have a good excuse, though: I’ve been spending all my time and energy producing Alternative Incite #4 (so, if you’re looking for something new to read, you could do a lot worse than that). Anyway, now that I’m wrapping that up, I’m thinking about what’s next. That’s where this blog — and a new, dictionary-oriented publication (currently titled the Butter Lamb News) — come in. Look for that, and new posts right here.
Stay tuned ….
Happy Valentine’s Day!
What’s so happy about it? Well, the cards and the candy and the pledges of love to name a few. Nevertheless, there’s no denying that the word valentine is associated with some pretty awful stuff.
First, there’s the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre, the shooting that took place in Chicago, Illinois, on February 14, 1929. It seems bullets started flying when thugs associated with Al Capone dressed up as policemen and took out seven members of a rival gang.
In addition to that, there’s the story of St. Valentine, a priest in Rome and physician who died c. 269. According to the Dictionary of Saints (Delaney), he was beheaded in the city under Claudius the Goth on February 14 and then buried on the Flaminian Way, where a basilica was built in 350.
There is also another Roman saint named Valentine who is celebrated on this day, the former bishop of Interamna (Terni), located 60 miles from the city. Sadly, this St. Valentine had just as difficult a time as his namesake. He was “scourged, imprisoned, and then beheaded” by the order of Placidus, the prefect of Interamna.
If you’re wondering whether there were really two St. Valentines who lived so close to one another, you’re in good company.
“Many scholars believe the two are one and the same, and it is suggested that the bishop of Interamna had been the Roman priest who became the bishop and was sentenced there before being brought to Rome for his execution.”
So what does any of this have to do with cards and candy and love? Well, according to the Dictionary of Saints, “The custom of sending Valentines on February 14 stems from a medieval belief that birds began to pair on this day.”
I don’t know why a dictionary devoted to saints would have such information, but it is echoed in the Oxford Dictionary of Saints (ODoS) as well. “Neither of [these two saints (may be the same saint)] seems to have any clear connection with lovers or courting couples. The reason for this famous patronage is that birds are supposed to pair on 14 February, a belief at least as old as Chaucer.”
To be fair, this latter saint-oriented dictionary goes on to say that, on the other hand, “some authorities see the custom of choosing a partner on St. Valentines Day as a surviving element of the Roman Lupercalia festival, which took place in mid-February.”
I don’t know what the Paston Letters or the Lupercalia festival are, but I do know — and appreciate — dictionary snark when I see it, which is why I love this next line in the ODoS: “Whatever the reason, the connections of lovers with St. Valentine, with all its consequences for the printing and retailing industries, is one of the less likey results of the cult of the Roman martyrs.”
How very droll.
Note: For a related article on the symbolism of the heart, see “Getting to the Heart of It.”
Merriam-Webster liked one of my tweets … on Dictionary Day no less. I gotta say, this is pretty great.
I didn’t find out about Madeline Kripke until May 2, when my friend Mike emailed me a link to the story about her that ran in the New York Times .
Wait … what? You haven’t heard of Madeline Kripke, either? It’s not surprising. It seems she kept a rather low profile.
Ms. Kripke grew up in Omaha, Nebraska, where her father was a rabbi and where her parents were friends of the investor Warren Buffett (and, according to the article, beneficiaries of his financial advice). After earning a bachelor’s degree in English from Barnard College, she remained in New York in the 1960s, living as “a cross between a beatnik and a hippie.” Later, she worked as a welfare case worker, a teacher, and a copy editor and proofreader. These occupations, however, had little to do with her calling.
Back when she was in the fifth grade, her parents gave her a copy of the Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary. The gift “unlocked the world for her,” as she told the website Narratively. Dictionaries became her passion and, beginning with the Webster’s Collegiate, she accumulated an estimated 20,000 volumes over the course of her life. It was “one of the world’s largest private collections of dictionaries” and much of it was crammed into her Greenwich Village apartment.
As the article is careful to point out, Ms. Kripke was not an “indiscriminate amasser” of references. Rather, she “built a cathedral of the English lexicographic tradition, tens of thousands of carefully chosen items.” Among them were “a Latin dictionary printed in 1502, Jonathan Swift’s 1722 booklet titled The Benefits of Farting Explained, and the New York Metropolitan Transportation Authority’s 1980 guide to pickpocket slang.
The comprehensiveness of her collection amazed many in the lexicographic world and, despite being self-taught, she was known for “approach[ing] her collection and study with the same scholarship and discipline with which her father approached religion.”
Ms. Kripke died on April 25 in Manhattan at 76 due to the coronavirus and complications of pneumonia. According to the article, she didn’t have a plan for her collection in the event of her death (her brother and some of her lexicography-expert friends are working on it). The word on the street was that Kripke hoped to transfer the collection to a university or, if she had her way, put it all in her own dictionary library, but she never got to build it.
I wanted to end this issue of Alternate Incite with a remembrance of Ms. Kripke for two reasons. First, as I’ve already mentioned, I’m a dictionary collector myself, so I share her mania (although clearly not to the same degree). Moreover, I too have thought about opening a dictionary library and/or museum. (Perhaps I should get in contact with her brother ….)
The second and more important reason is that Ms. Kripke is a shining example of what Alternate Incite is all about: heeding the call—that impulse!—to create something significant and worthwhile, and to see it through to the end. Clearly, amassing a collection of 20,000 anything takes time, money, and commitment. It also takes the guts to do something a little unorthodox and “out there,” regardless of the slings and arrows the critics will surely throw your way (and if you see of the photo of her apartment that ran in the Times, you know there were some critics). It might also take a willingness to be inconvenienced, to suffer, for that which is bigger than yourself. This sounds dark, and maybe even depressing, but it’s not. If you’re truly heeding the call, it is, as I’m sure Ms. Kripke would report, a (mostly) joyous and pleasurable experience despite the discomfort.
* Doyenne (n.) The eldest or senior female member of a group.
PS) This piece first appeared in issue #1 of Alternative Incite. If you’d like a copy, visit the “Publications” page.
Although it pains me to type these words, I feel I must. Neil Peart, the drummer, lyricist, and one of the three essential elements of the illustrious (progressive rock) band Rush, is no longer among us.
It’s difficult for me to express the significance his passing, which is a rather odd thing to say given that I’ve never met him. In a sense, he is a stranger to me. On the other hand, Rush’s music has been a constant in my life, which makes me feel like I know him. Every day, I hear something that reminds me of a line from a Rush song, and when someone brings up a topic I’ve heard Neil speak about in interviews, I can hear his voice. Thus, it seems only natural that the news of his succumbing to cancer would nearly bring me to tears. (And some of the remembrances penned in wake of his death did.) We may not have known one another, but I can’t help but feel that, on some level, we were close. Alone and yet together like two passing ships ….
Given how important Rush is to me, I’ve been thinking of some way to mark the impact that Neil’s life and work has had on mine. Of course, Rush has been in constant rotation in my car (my favorite place to listen to music) since January 10, and yes, I’ve been air drumming to whatever album I’m playing with more emotion and vigor than usual, but I wanted to do something more. Therefore, I’ve decided to pay my respects to the “Professor” in a way I think he’d enjoy: with a Rush-related foray into the references that line the ever-expanding shelves of the Butter Lamb Reference Library.
But what to investigate? Rush offers so many potential threads for the reference enthusiast to pull. Yes, there are the words in the though-provoking lyrics, but there’s so much more! Intriguing symbols, rich album art, an endless array of intriguing sounds (from a range of cultures and musical styles). It’s very tempting to take a headlong flight into the some of Rush’s more grand(iose) designs (i.e., 2112, Hemispheres) or dive into the high water of the countless literary allusions or references to the Natural Sciences hiding in the band’s lyrics. In the end, though, I decided to roll the bones (while keeping my bravado in check), but keep it simple. I chose to dig into the symbology of the drum, Neil’s instrument of choice. (And yes, I was fully aware that had I chosen not to decide, I would still have made a choice.)*
The drum, says J.E. Cirlot’s A Dictionary of Symbols, is “a symbol of primordial sound, and a vehicle for the word, for tradition, and for magic. With the aid of drums, shamans can induce a state of ecstasy.”
I confess, I’ve never thought of Neil as a shaman, but there’s no question he used his drums to induce states of unparalleled joy, happiness, and even euphoria. He did for this Rush fan, and judging by the countless happy and smiling fans and massive amount of air drumming I saw at Rush shows, he clearly did the same for others.
“According to [Marius] Schneider, the drum is, of all musical instruments, the most pregnant with mystic ideas. In Africa it is associated with the heart**. In the most primitive cultures, as in the most advanced, it is equated with the sacrificial altar and hence it acts as a mediator between heaven and earth.”
I, like most Rush fans, was well aware of Neil’s criticisms of religion. Maybe too aware, for it never occurred to me that the dedication and excellence he brought to the art of drumming were, for him, spiritual practices in their own right. I also never thought of Neil’s drum sets as altars, but there’s no question that, for Rush fans at least, his kits were sacred spaces at which he brought the mystic rhythms of heaven and earth together before sharing them with the audience — not unlike a priest performing Mass before a congregation. “We feel the powers and we wonder what they are,” indeed.
Maybe, I’m getting carried away here. Then again, maybe not. As ridiculous as it might sound, The Continuum Encyclopedia of Symbols, concurs that there is an undeniable association between the drum and “rhythmically produced sound [which] is sometimes equated with hidden sounds and forces of the cosmos.”
J.C. Cooper’s Illustrated Encyclopedia of Traditional Symbols hears the thud-thud-thud of the drum’s primordial percussivness too, and it testifies with a staccato style all its own.
Drum Sound; the primordial sound; speech; divine truth; revelation; tradition; the rhythm of the universe.
Truth, revelation, tradition: these words not only pertain to the cultural and spiritual role of the drum around the globe, they refer to Neil himself, to his work, and to the impact his band’s music had on fans. For I can tell you without hyperbole that whenever I saw Rush play, it was always something of a religious experience.
Rest in peace, Neil, and thank you for the music.
** Would it be fair to say, then, that in Africa the drum brings one closer to the heart?
You’re in your car, stuck at a red light. The fellow driving the car next you tilts his head back, open his maw, and lets go of a massive yawn. Try as you might to avert what’s coming, it’s no use. You follow suit because, as everyone knows, yawns are contagious.
Now, just why yawns spread so easily is a mystery. So is the word’s definition, etymology, and lore. Of course, I know how to answer some of these questions, and I will do so now. I hope it doesn’t put you to sleep.
Definitions … and Synonyms
Yawn, according to the Oxford English Dictionary, is defined as “something that yawns; a gaping opening or entrance” such as “a chasm or an abyss.” I know: that’s not really what we’re talking about, but you can see how it is related to the other yawn, an “involuntary, prolonged inspiration with the mouth wide open and the lower jaw much depressed, as from drowsiness or fatigue.”
Blakiston’s New Gould Medical Dictionary offers a similar description for yawn, “to open the mouth widely” and then adds, “also called chasma.” But wait, there’s more! Blakiston’s goes on to define yawning as, “a reflex stretching of the muscles accompanied by a deep inspiration, occurring during the drowsy state preceding the onset of sleep”. It also notes, “also called hiant.” What? Where are these strange synonyms for yawn coming from and just how common are they?
Taber’s Cyclopedic Medical Dictionary offers similar fare, but suggests that inspiration may not be successful or complete. That is, it defines yawn as “1) To open the mouth involuntarily, as in drowsiness or fatigue; 2) Involuntary act of gaping, accompanied by attempts at inspiration, excited by drowsiness.” Oddly, although in step with the aforementioned texts, Taber’s offers a separate (and somewhat unnecessary) definition for yawning: “Deep inspiration, gaping induced by drowsiness or fatigue,” and then offers yet another synonym: oscitation.
Dorland’s Illustrated Medical Dictionary doesn’t offer any synonyms, but it does extend its definition of yawning — “a deep involuntary inspiration with the mouth open” — by including the phrase, “often accompanied by the act of stretching.” (See what I did there?). It then suggests that readers compare yawning to pandiculation, or “the act of stretching and yawning.”
Somewhat notably, The Thinker’s Thesaurus goes beyond associating pandiculation and yawning to listing the former as a synonym for the latter. Perhaps the authors of this text need to think a little more about this relationship, as pandiculation does not necessarily include yawning, at least according to Webster’s Third International Dictionary.
Okay, so now that we have a clear definition of yawn, let’s look into the word’s etymology and see if it’s just as exciting and varied.
The Oxford Dictionary of Word Histories says yawn is of Germanic origin, but then adds “the Old English geonian is from an Indo-European root shared by Latin, hiare, [there’s your synonym hiant] and Greek khainein (meaning ‘gape’).” Early uses, says the ODWH, “included the sense [of having] the mouth wide open, gape,” while the senses of the current noun “date from the early 18th century.”
Ayto’s Dictionary of Word Origins puts it a little differently. It says “Yawn goes back ultimately to the Indo-European base ghei (or ghi), which also produced Greek khaskein ‘gape’ and Latin hiare ‘gape’ and ‘yawn’ (source of English hiatus). Chambers Dictionary of Etymology offers essentially the same information, as does Partridge’s Origins: A Short Etymological Dictionary of Modern English, which is likely the source material for all the above.
I Dream of Yawning
Okay, so there seems to be a good deal of consensus about where yawn comes from. There is less agreement, however, about what yawns symbolize in dreams.
Theresa Cheung’s Dream Dictionary gets things rolling with the (rather dull) notion that, “just as in waking life, yawning is a sign of fatigue, but also boredom.” However, she kicks it up a notch, albeit with some mystery, when she notes, “It can also be a warning against hidden aggression within yourself or others.”
Why Cheung leaves it there I can’t say. Perhaps she was getting tired and just wanted the work of writing her dream dictionary to be over. Fortunately, others, such as the Watkins Dream Dictionary pick up the slack. In this text, yawning is said to be “indicative of weariness and involuntary communication.”
Yawning in a dream may be a sign of non-aggression (as with animals), or a sign that one wishes to ingest (oxygen, food, drink) or somaticize something (an emotional hurt, an already expelled scream, a trauma).
Somaticize is a psychiatric term meaning “to convert an anxiety into a physical symptom,” and it helps explain what Cheung was getting at when she associated dream yawns with hidden aggression. Tony Crisp’s Dream Dictionary takes a similar tack as it notes that, along with the boredom and fatigue, yawning in dreams may represent “the unconscious trying to say something,” as it belongs to a cast of movements associated with the self-regulation.
I Ain’t Superstitious (I’m Just Tired)
I don’t believe I’ve ever yawned in a dream. I do, however, cover my mouth when I yawn (at least in public). I thought this was just good manners. As it turns out, the impulse to cover one’s gaping maw is a holdover from more superstitious times. But hey, don’t take my word for it. As the Cassell Dictionary of Superstitions explains:
Most people are familiar with the rule of etiquette that a person should cover their mouth when yawning but may be unaware that this has its roots in medieval superstition, when it was thought that evil spirits could get inside a person’s body when their mouth was opened too wide, though making the sign of the cross prevented this happening.
The text goes on to say that, elsewhere in Europe, it was believed that “yawning too long allowed one’s soul to escape.” In still other cultures, “a yawn may be interrupted as a death omen, which was to be countered by snapping one’s fingers.”
Now if you’ll excuse me, all this research and writing has made me sleepy ….
Want to know what was up with the white horse at the end of last night’s Game of Thrones episode? (Just so we’re on the same page, I’m talking the season 8, episode 5 installment titled “The Bells”.) Me too, and so do a lot of other people. How do I know? Articles about it appeared in USA Today, Buzz Feed, Pop Sugar, and so on.
Most of these articles (I didn’t read them all. Who has the time?) say the horse is likely an allusion to the white steed mentioned in the Book of Revelations: “And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on it was Death.”
But hey, don’t take my word for it. Here’s a snippet of the USA Today article:
Arya is left on the ash-filled streets of King’s Landing among the dead bodies of people she tried to save, and she sees a white horse, who has also survived and found her. She rides the horse out of the city, seemingly with the intent to avenge those who died there.
On a show like “Thrones,” a horse is not just a horse. The steed might be an allusion to the Book of Revelations in the Bible. The ending of the episode seems to imply that Arya is now Death, and she’s coming for Dany.
Maybe. Maybe not. As tempting as the connection to the Book of Revelations might be, the symbolism of white horses is more diverse than one might anticipate. Thus, while the symbology references in the Butter Lamb Reference Library’s collection do reference the pale horse in Revelations, they also associate such beasts with “victory” or “mastery” of the passions by reason — and if you saw last night’s episode, you know why this notion is relevant.
But hey, don’t take my word for it. I’ve provided the following excepts from the BLRL’s symbol references that mention white horses. To be fair, what appears here for each text is just a fraction or snippet of a much longer entry, and as J.E. Cirlot’s Dictionary of Symbols warns, “The symbolism of the horse is extremely complex.” That said, it’s worth noting the moments of consensus in the following excerpts.
The Herder Symbol Dictionary:
The white horse in particular was regarded as a solar and heavenly animal; it became the steed of the gods and a symbol of force subdued by reason.
The Mammoth Dictionary of Symbols:
According to the color of its coat, in Revelation, the horse is a symbol of victory (a white horse).
Black or pale, it is linked to the moon and water, and in the incarnation of the devil or the damned. White and winged (spirituality), it symbolizes self-mastery: the unicorn can only be captured by the virgin.
An Illustrated Encyclopedia of Traditional Symbols (Cooper):
The winged horse is the sun or the Cosmic Horse, as is the white horse, and represents pure intellect; the unblemished; innocence; light and life, and is ridden by heroes.
The Continuum Encyclopedia of Symbols:
With respect to light, the horse, primarily as a white horse, became a sun-like and heavenly animal, a steed of the gods, a symbol of strength harnessed by reason, or of joy and of victory ([horses have often been] depict[ed] on the graves of martyrs).
Dictionary of Symbolism (Biedermann)
In symbolic tradition, [the horse is] an embodiment of power and vitality … [however its] symbolic import often remains ambiguous, as we see from the gleaming white horse of “Christ triumphant” on the one hand and the mounts of the “Horsemen of the Apocalypse” (Book of Revelation) on the other. The early Church fathers found the animal haughty and lascivious; yet it appeared at the same time an image of victory (that of martyrs over the world).
Then we have the following from Cirlot’s Dictionary of Symbols:
[On the] bio-psychological plane … the horse stands for intense desires and instincts, in accordance with the general symbolism of the steed and the vehicle. The horse plays an important part in a great number of ancient rites. The ancient Rhodians used to make an annual sacrifice [of horses] to the sun …. The animal was also dedicated to Mars, and the sudden appearance of a horse was thought to be an omen of war.
An omen of war? Interesting ….
Yeah, it’s Mother’s Day. But do you know why?
Julia Ward Howe does … or at least she did. Howe is dead now, but the holiday she created lives on. Here’s the story, according to the Facts on File Encyclopedia of Word and Phrase Origins:
Shortly after she returned to Boston from Europe on a crusade for world peace in 1872, Julia Ward Howe (the American Poet who wrote “The Battle Hymn of the Republic”) called for June 2 to be set aside for “Mother’s Peace Day” and, beginning with Boston, many cities and states adopted the tradition before President Woodrow Wilson authorized Mother’s Day as a national holiday in 1915.
But wait, there’s more! The same source goes on to say that, in the United States, “the first Mother’s Day was celebrated in 1908, when Congress resolved that the second day of May be recognized as the national day to honor mothers.” It also notes that the original Mother’s Day — “what the British call ‘Mothering Sunday'” (which is the fourth Sunday in the season of Lent, also known as Laetare Sunday)” — has been around since the 19th century, and is a day wherein “children customarily given presents to their mothers.”
Maybe. Brewer’s Dictionary of Twentieth Century Phrase and Fable describes Mothering Sunday a little differently:
In the United Kingdom … Mother’s Day … has become synonymous with the Christian festival of Mothering Sunday, the fourth Sunday in Lent, when servants apprentices, and other young workers living away from home were traditionally given a day’s holiday to visit their mothers.
And for the record, Brewer’s says the first U.S. Mother’s Day was celebrated in 1914, not 1908.
Mmmm, okay. Those are some different takes on Mothering Sunday. Whichever one is right, I think we can all agree that, as Brewer’s notes on the end of its entry on this most important day, “The commercial potential of Mother’s Day is exploited to the full on both sides of the Atlantic by florists and others.”
And What about Mother?
Okay, so that’s the skinny on Mother’s Day. But what do you know about the word mother? If you’re anything like me, not nearly as much as you think you do.
To begin, the Oxford English Dictionary offers (at least) 15 senses of the term. Most you’re familiar with. For example:
“A female parent; a woman who has given birth to a child,” or “To attribute the authorship of something to a woman, to ascribe the origin of something to something else, as in ‘necessity is the mother of invention.'”
However, some you might not be, such as: “A term of address for an elderly woman of the lower class. Also used as a prefix to a surname of such a person.”
The etymology is in the same vein. Mother, says Eric Partridge’s Origins, comes from Latin mater, which isn’t exactly front-page news. However, Partridge doesn’t stop there. He goes on to trace mater back to its Indo-European base mat, which he contends is an extension of ma-, meaning “breast.” Hence the word mama. From here it’s something of an etymological hop, skip, and a jump to Demeter, the Greek goddess of the fruitful soil, who is also known as the “mother of the gods.”
This association of “mother” with the source of life and with nourishment can be found in mother’s symbology too. As noted in Hans Biederemann’s Dictionary of Symbolism:
The essential association is with ‘wisdom beyond knowledge,’ benevolence, sheltering, sustaining, the giving of life, fertility, growth, nourishment, the locus of magical transformation and rebirth; all that is secret and hidden.
Wisdom beyond knowledge? Perhaps this is what we mean when we speak of a mother’s intuition.
Happy Mother’s Day!
No post on the Butter Lamb would be complete without a foray into the dream world. Let’s buckle up.
According to the Dream Dictionary from A to Z:
The mother may symbolize the unconscious, intuitive part of yourself. This, however, can take a positive or negative form. She may appear as a kindly mother or aunt, or as a place such as a cave, a church, or garden; all these images represent the qualities of growth, nourishment, and fertility. In her negative form, a mother may appear as a witch or a dragon, and represent dark, destructive tendencies that devour and destroy.
The Watkins Dream Dictionary offers a slightly different take:
The mother, in dreams is often represented by a queen, a nurse, a servant, the Virgin Mary, or some other impersonal symbol such as the earth, or a fountain. These symbols protect the dreamer from the odium society might conceivably hold them in were they to undermine the maternal force too overtly.
Finally, The Dreamer’s Dictionary (Robinson & Corbett) offers the following:
As a rule, [dreams of] … mothers symbolize love. You will have to figure out the meaning of your dream by correlating the action with your parental attitude and other elements of the dream, but as a general guide: if the parent you dreamed of is dead and he or she spoke to you, you can expect to hear important news.; otherwise, a dream of your mother signifies happiness in love or personal affairs.
1. Words New to Me: Gendarme
A few days ago, I came across the word gendarme in The Oxford Book of Death. Here’s the context:
Aversion to death is necessary to the survival of the species, rather in the spirit of the French proverb to the effect that fear of the gendarme is the beginning of wisdom.
The what is the beginning of what? The context here doesn’t help. So I hit the dictionaries. Here’s what I found in the Merriam-Webster Collegiate Dictionary:
1. A member of a body of soldiers especially in France serving as an armed police force for the maintenance of the public order.
2. Police officer.
And the Shorter Oxford English Dictionary:
I. (Chiefly plural) In the older French army, a horseman in full armor, having others under him; later a mounted trooper. Now historical
2. A soldier, who is employed on police duties, especially in France
2. figurative: Projecting pieces of rock, which are called gendarmes; apparently from their … stopping travelers 1883.
Okay, so gendarme = French police office, sometimes on horseback. And the word’s etymology? Partridge’s Short Etymological Dictionary of Modern English explains it like this: Middle French-French gendarmes (plural): gent, people + de, of + armes, weapons.
Now I get it: Fear of the people of weapons just may be the beginning of wisdom.
2. What Does “Socialism” Mean?
This is the question asked by a recent article in The Fort Worth Star Telegram and, depending on where you get your news, the answer could be everything from a government that tosses people in gulags for no reason to healthcare for all. I won’t deprive you of the joy of reading that piece. Instead, I thought I’d hit you with some dictionary definitions of the word so you can judge for yourself. That said, it should be clear to anyone with a solid head on their shoulders that the socialism called for by some of our more progressive legislators does not include the government taking over the means of production.
1. Any of various economic and political theories advocating collective or governmental ownership and administration of the means production and distribution of goods. 2 a. A system of society or group living in which there is no private property. b. A system or condition of society in which the means of production are owned and controlled by the state. 3. A stage of society in Marxist theory transitional between capitalism and communism and distinguished by unequal distribution of goods and pay according to work done. – Merriam-Webster Collegiate Dictionary (11th ed.)
1 a. A social system in which the means of producing and distributing goods are owned collectively and political power is exercised by the whole community. 1b. The theory or practice of those who support such a social system. 2. The building of a material base for communism under the dictatorship of the proletariat in Marxist-Leninist Theory. – American Heritage Dictionary
A political and economic theory of social organization which advocates that the means of production, distribution, and exchange should be regulated or owned by the community as a whole; policy or practice based on this theory. Socialism has been used to describe positions as far apart as anarchism, Soviet state Communism, and social democracy; however it mainly applies an opposition to the untrammeled workings of the economic market…. – Oxford English Reference Dictionary
An economic system in which the production and distribution of goods are controlled substantially by the government rather than by private enterprise, and in which cooperation rather than competition guides economic activity. There are many varieties of socialism. Some socialists tolerate capitalism, as long as the government maintains the dominant influence over the economy; others insist on an abolition of private enterprise. All communists are socialists, but not all socialists are communists. – Dictionary of Cultural Literacy
3. Is the Term Paddy’s Day Offensive?
According to the website Irish Central.com, “every March 17, a minority of people complain that the term “Paddy’s Day” is offensive.”
I have no doubt that this is true, but I have never heard anyone use the phrase “Paddy’s Day” in place of St. Patrick’s Day, and I’m an active participant in the day (my daughters are Irish dancers). Nevertheless, here’s the argument/rationale:
It seems that some people see the “Paddy” in “Paddy’s Day” as derogatory, connecting it with “Paddy Wagon,” or “Plastic Paddy.
“However, to those who say “Paddy’s Day” and see no problem with it … “Paddy” in this case is simply the logical abbreviation of the Irish word Pádraig.
According to Wikipedia:
Pádraig (Pádraic or Páraic) is an Irish male name deriving from the Latin Patricius, meaning “of the patrician class,” introduced via the name of Saint Patrick. Patrick is the English version, via Old French.
Diminutives include Páidín (Anglicised as “Podge” and “Paddy”); the latter Anglicisation is often used, sometimes pejoratively, as a term for Irish people as a whole.
Okay, so there is some relation between Paddy, Pádraig, and St. Patrick, but I still think “Paddy” sounds stupid and would never say it. That said, I don’t expect this kerfuffle to end any time soon. As noted by Irish Central, this article from 1994 (!) article from the Baltimore Sun, this debate has been raging for a while.
For more about St. Patrick, check out this previous Butter Lamb post: Facts and Legends about St. Patrick.
4. New Words: Hangxiety
I came across the following from the website iNews.uk
I didn’t see the original article, and I’m not sure who the singer Charlotte Church is, but it seems she wrote an article in for the Guardian in which she vowed to never again experience “hangxiety.”
Hangxiety, it seems, is a new word for “the feeling of overwhelming guilt, stress, and worry you experience the day after a drinking binge.” Although the word is not yet recognized by the Oxford English Dictionary, it is registered in the Urban Dictionary.
There you go. Use it at will.
5. 15 of My Favorite Dictionaries
I recently came across an article from BookRiot.com titled “15 of the Best Dictionary Apps for Your Every Nerdy Need.”
Putting aside the question as to why a site named “Book Riot” would publish an article about 15 of the best dictionary apps rather than 15 of the best dictionaries (I mean, where’s the love?!?), I thought, “Hey, since I don’t traffik in apps, I should produce a list of my 15 favorite dictionaries. So that’s what I’ve done. Check ’em out at the links provided! [Note: the links here are to Amazon.com, but if you can, please purchase any of these books at a local bookstore.]
A big book with a lot of beautiful art and very thorough definitions. If you’re into classical mythology and everything related to it, this book is for you. Surprisingly, I find myself going to this book a lot … and that’s okay with me.
J.E. Cirlot’s Dictionary of Symbols is kind of the gold standard of symbol dictionaries. Like the aforementioned Dictionary of Classical Mythology, it has thorough definitions, cool artwork, and I simply love flipping through its pages.
This book is just freaking wild. Such a cool idea and pretty wide ranging. From fiction to myth to movies, if there’s an imaginary place you’ve heard of it’s in here.
Do you have crazy dreams (or even not so crazy dreams)? Do you want to know what you might be dreaming about? If you answered yes to these questions, get your hands on the Dream Dictionary from A to Z. I have several dream dictionaries, but I prefer this on because it’s the biggest, the best organized, and the most complete.
Dictionary of Word Origins (Ayto)
John Ayto’s Dictionary of Word Origins is great because it frequently offers contrary opinions about word origins, and the differences or discrepancies from other sources often ad an element of fun and mystery to the source of the words we use every day.
Dictionaries like to “borrow” information from authoritative sources and, when it comes to etymology, Partridge’s Origins seems to be that authoritative source.
When it comes to controversial words, there’s no better book than Wicked Words. It goes the extra mile when providing information on the controversy. It’s simply a great read.
Do you like the Old West? If you do, get this book full of Old West slang and western neologisms.
Detailed, thorough, authoritative, and all kinds of interesting.
In this world of “fake news” and disappearing newspapers, this book provides some insight into how journalism works and the things reporters have to deal with and think about. It also helps if you’re interested in reporting, like I am.
There are a lot of wacky beliefs out there. This book chronicles them all. A fun read.
If you’ve ever wanted a big, fat philosophy reference, this is your book. It leaves no philosophical stone uncovered. An impressive work.
From the dust jacket: This dictionary “illuminates the more than 1,000 surprising definitions associated with each letter in the English alphabet.
Sinister in its way, this tome provides some interesting insights into a wide range of military-speak, and provides some detail on some of the weapons (missiles, etc.) that have been used over the decades.
A fantastic resource for understanding what the hell creationists are talking about and helpful in refuting their faulty premises. It’s also just an interesting book and is one of those dictionaries that one can’t believe exists but does.