Word Buzz Wednesday: craftivism, bass face, fawn response

Yarn bomb - lamp shade

Welcome to Word Buzz Wednesday, your go-to place for the most interesting words of the week. The latest: making quilts in protest; making weird faces during music; making like Bambi.


Craftivism in the US is largely associated with the resurgent feminist movement, but its roots trace back to colonial times.”

Anne Quito, “Trump has awakened an American ‘craftivism’ movement that’s been dormant since the 1980s AIDS quilt,” Quartz, July 5, 2017

Craftivism, a blend of craft and activism, is a form of protest from “subversive embroiderers, yarn bombers, rage knitters, and crusader calligraphers,” says Quartz.

While U.S. craftivism is largely associated with the resurgent feminist movement, it actually started in colonial times when “women revolted against British taxation on textiles by spinning their own yarn and sewing their family’s clothes,” and spies like Molly “Old Mom” Rinker smuggled “messages to George Washington’s troops through balls of yarn.”

bass face

“She also is prone to break into what’s known as ‘bass face,’ a series of gloriously contorted expressions when she’s performing.”

Melena Ryzik, “‘We really felt on fire as a band': Haim shake off the shackles of the difficult second album,” The Independent, July 11, 2017

Inverse says bass face (or guitar face or singing face) may be “rooted in our evolutionary past.” Back when music was never recorded and always live, it traditionally involved moving, in addition to seeing and hearing. In addition, people are going to be emotionally affected much more by music “than if you’re just merely listening.”

jerkinhead roof

“The home is a classic example of that type of home, with a lovely restored facade (including a mahogany-decked porch) and decorative elements like stained glass windows and what’s known as a jerkinhead roof. (Yes, really.)”

Amy Plitt, “Lovely Midwood Victorian with summer-ready front porch seeks $1.75M,” Curbed, July 10, 2017

Jerkinhead refers to the end of a roof that’s hipped, or sloped, for only part of its height, leaving a truncated gable. The Oxford English Dictionary says jerkin might come from jerking, with the idea that the slope of the roof has been jerkily interrupted.


Infobesity, a widespread problem, can be managed by balancing your diet. Try just reading an article without checking text messages or listening to music.”

Ephrat Livni, “If information overload is stressing you out, go on a silence diet,” Quartz, July 9, 2017

This portmanteau of information and obesity refers to information overload or overconsumption.

fawn response

“The fawn response refers to the inclination to cooperate or submit oneself to one’s threat or captor.”

Katie Heaney, “When Stress Makes You Fall Asleep,” New York Magazine, July 11, 2017

Some believe the classic “fight or flight” response to stress is oversimplified, says New York Magazine. Other “Fs” include the fawn response; freezing like a deer in headlights; flooding, or being flooded with emotions; and fatigue.

Our Favorite Eponyms: 10 Common Words Named After People


It’s Bowdler’s Day, which, while not exactly a day to celebrate (it’s the birthday of Thomas Bowdler, an English physician best known for publishing a censored edition of Shakespeare), does give us an excuse to write about eponyms like bowdlerize, or to remove or change parts of a text considered offensive or vulgar. Here are 10 more common words you might not know come from the names of people.


“He [sc. Mr Savelle] advised the people to ‘Boycott’ any man who betrayed them by taking such land.”

Glasgow Herald, November 1, 1880

Long before it was Twitter hashtag and call to action, boycott was the name of one Charles C. Boycott, an English land agent in Ireland. According to the Online Etymology Dictionary, Boycott refused to lower the rent for his tenant farmers, resulting in ostracism by the Irish Land League as well as the prompt adoption of his name to mean to abstain from using, buying, or dealing with as a form of protest.


“The Bee says the daughter of Dr. Hanson, of this city, appeared in the Bloomer suit … last week.”

Boston Evening Transcript, May 27, 1851

Perhaps you thought these old-timey women’s trousers were named for the way they seem to bloom from waist to knee, but they were actually in honor of women’s rights advocate Amelia Bloomer, who promoted and wore them herself instead of the long skirts and confining corsets of the time.


“Norris and Warner want to be fashionable. They are cultivating side-burns.”

Indianapolis People, April 8, 1876

Hipsters everywhere can thank Civil War Union general A.E. Burnside for this facial hair fad. Burnside refers specifically to a style of beard with a mustache, whiskers on the cheeks, and a clean-shaven chin. Sideburn, just the hair from temple down, is an alteration of the burnside and perhaps influenced by side-whisker.


Leotards … are used by acrobats and aerial performers.”

J.W. Mansfield, Letter, January 1920

French acrobat and aerialist Jules Léotard gave us a lot. He developed the art of trapeze and inspired the song, “The Daring Young Man on the Flying Trapeze.” He also popularized and gave his name to the stretchy one-piece garment favored by dancers, gymnasts, and aerobics enthusiasts.


“Of nicotin. This substance exists in the leaves of the nicotiana latifolia, or tobacco, and gives that plant its peculiar properties.”

Thomas Thomson, A System of Chemistry, In Four Volumes, 1817

This “colorless, poisonous alkaloid” is “used as an insecticide.” It’s also the addictive substance in tobacco. Jean Nicot was a 16th-century French ambassador and lexicographer, according to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED). When he returned from Portugal, he brought back tobacco, which was an instant hit in the royal court.

The word nicotian, named after Nicot, first referred to the tobacco plant itself. By the early 19th century, nicotine referred to the substance in tobacco.


“Carr would almost have forgotten her existence, had it not been for those eyes which mesmerised him every now and then, in spite of himself.”

Hamilton Aïdé, Carr of Carrlyon, 1862

You might be mesmerized to know the word mesmerize comes from the name of an Austrian physician. Friedrich Anton Mesmer was a proponent of mesmerism, a kind of hypnotism that involves animal magnetism, a special power one holds over others. Later, the term came to mean magnetic charm or sex appeal in general.


“We … will crush radicals, greenbackers and all other foes of democracy, especially those independent gentlemen, those political mavericks.”

The Galveston Daily News, August 19, 1884

If you’re a maverick, you might be a dissenter or independent thinker. Or you might be an unbranded calf. Either way you might also be named for Samuel A. Maverick, a Texas lawyer who refused to brand his cattle.


“He was wounded on the mouth and ankle by a piece of shrapnel.”

Highland Light Infantry Chronicle, October 1914

The word shrapnel is named for General Henry Shrapnel, a British army officer who “invented a type of exploding, fragmenting shell” consisting of “a hollow cannon ball, filled with shot, which burst in mid-air.” The general’s less catchy moniker for his invention was “spherical case ammunition.”


“But now in our age it is growne to be a common prouerbe in derision, to call such a person as is senselesse or without learning a Duns, which is as much as a foole.”

Francis Thynne, Holinshed’s Chronicles, 1587

The word dunce hasn’t always meant, well, dunce. Named for Scottish scholastic theologian John Duns Scotus, it first referred to a follower of Duns’s teachings, says the OED. Then it gained the derisive meaning of “a hair-splitting reasoner,” due to later philosophers who ridiculed his work, as well as “a dull pedant” and finally someone dull-witted.

Dunce cap might have first been used by Charles Dickens in his novel, The Old Curiosity Shop: “Displayed on hooks upon the wall in all their terrors, were the cane and ruler; and near them, on a small shelf of its own, the dunce’s cap, made of old newspapers and decorated with glaring wafers of the largest size.”


“The following are live-bearing tropicals: … Guppy (Lebistes reticulatus). Males small and brilliantly colored.”

Aquatic Life, November 1925

This small, brightly-colored fish is named for Robert John Lechmere Guppy, the British-born naturalist “who sent the first recorded specimen to the British Museum,” according to the OED.

Of course this is all just the tip of the eponymic iceberg. Check out this list for a lot more common words derived from names, as well as toponyms (words from place names) and genericized trademarks.

What are some of your favorite eponyms?

Word Buzz Wednesday: shisa kanko, monkey dumpling, Canadian Dainty

Snow Monkeys

Welcome to Word Buzz Wednesday, your go-to place for the most interesting words of the week. The latest: the art of pointing; an adorable monkey term; tomayto, tomahto, let’s call the whole thing Canadian English.

shisa kanko

“The pointing itself originates from Asia. As detailed in an Atlas Obscura story, the technique is called shisa kanko.”

Conduct Yourself,” Topic, June 2017

If you’ve ever ridden a New York subway, you might have noticed the conductor pointing. What they’re pointing at is a zebraboard, says Topic, “a black-and-white sign that aligns perfectly” with their “window after the train has pulled all the way into the station.” By pointing at the zebraboard, they make sure the “station platform is lined up alongside the full length of the train” before they open the doors, or else “it’s likely that some passengers would exit directly onto the tracks.”

Shisa kanko, which translates from Japanese as pointing and calling, is a more elaborate set of conductor gestures and calls. See some shisa kanko in action.


“A Mississippi psychiatrist in the 19th century proposed that slaves who attempted escape suffered from ‘drapetomania.’”

Joseph Frankel, “Psychics Who Hear Voices Could Be Onto Something,” The Atlantic, June 27, 2017

Drapetomania, the overwhelming urge to run away, is a pseudo-disease devised by physician Samuel A. Cartwright. The term comes from the Greek words drapetes, meaning “escapees” or “runaways,” and mania, “madness.”


“Though McModerns are commonly found in the places where modernism itself thrives—indoor-outdoor climates like the West Coast and the Southwest, and near liberal cities on the East Coast—they are also beginning to pop up in burgeoning tech hotbeds south of the Mason-Dixon, such as central North Carolina and Atlanta, Georgia.”

Kate Wagner, “The rise of the McModern,” Curbed, June 30, 2017

The term McModern plays off McMansion, a large and imposing house regarded as ostentatious and lacking architecture integrity. The earliest citation in the Oxford English Dictionary is from 1990: “The move-up homes trumpeted by builders are ‘McMansions—a very pale version of the American dream,’ he said.”

monkey dumpling

“When temperatures drop, macaques often huddle together to pool their body heat, forming what’s known as a saru dango, or ‘monkey dumpling.’”

Alan Taylor, “Winners of the BigPicture Natural World Photography Competition,” The Atlantic, June 29, 2017

The term saru dango is Japanese in origin, where saru means monkey and dango refers to a sweet dumpling made of sticky rice and often eaten three or more on a stick.

Canadian Dainty

“The Canadian Dainty accent is similar to the Mid-Atlantic accent, native to Old Hollywood, which melded American English with British pronunciation.”

Lakshine Sathiyanathan, “Some Canadians used to speak with a quasi-British accent called Canadian Dainty,” CBC News, July 1, 2017

Canadian Dainty, a term coined by linguist Jack Chambers, is a “quasi-British accent,” says CBC, that’s “now mostly extinct.” In the 19th century, “British etiquette and speech were perceived as superior,” and so during the Victorian era, “children were taught to  swap native Canadian pronunciation for the British counterpart.” Tomahto for tomayto, for example, and shed-yool for schedule.

Word Buzz Wednesday: vote-a-rama, totalism, mistress dispeller


A poster for the movie, “Mistress Dispeller”

Welcome to Word Buzz Wednesday, your go-to place for the most interesting words of the week. The latest: how to vote a lot, how a cult works, how to lose a mistress.


“Senate budget rules call for what’s known as a ‘vote-a-rama’ where members of either party offer amendments in a single session.”

Russell Berman, “What’s in the Senate Republican Health-Care Bill,” The Atlantic, June 22, 2017

A vote-a-rama, says The Atlantic, is when “the Senate holds flurries of votes on budget resolutions.” Debate on these bills is limited to 20 hours, and “the resolutions can’t be filibustered, so the only way to draw the process out is to offer amendments,” which, after the debate, “come in rapid fire,” sometimes in the dozens. If the no-debating rule is waived, each side is allowed a whopping 30 seconds to do so.

The term seems to have been coined by Keith Hennessey, former Assistant to the U.S. President for Economic Policy and Director of the U.S. National Economic Council. The suffix -orama, meaning “that which is seen, a sight,” is a back-formation of the words like panorama and diorama. The United States Senate has documented vote-a-ramas going back to 1977.


Totalism works because ordinary people – at least those without prior knowledge of the controlling methods of totalism – are subject to the coercive manipulations that leaders employ.”

Alexandra Stein, “How totalism works,” Aeon, June 20, 2017

A totalist structure, says Aeon, is made up of five features. One, the “leader is both charismatic and authoritarian.” Two, the leader rules over a structure that’s “isolating, steeply hierarchical and closed.” The third feature is a “historical totality that has no beginning, middle or end” and an exclusive belief system “controlled entirely by the leader.” Fourth, the leader must “tap fear,” and fifth is the creation of deployable followers “who override their own survival needs and autonomy in the service of the group.”


“Amish culture values deference to others and uffgevva – giving up to the group.”

Donald B. Kraybill, “Slow Time Is God’s Time,” Vestoj, June 2017

In his book, The Amish Way: Patient Faith in a Perilous World, Kraybill describes uffgevva as “surrendering selfish interests and desires,” which involves “yielding one’s personal will to God’s will,” and submitting to the authority and wisdom of the community.

drip dickey

“To avoid spilling even one drop, you order a year’s supply of what’s known as drip dickeys, which are special collars placed around the neck of wine bottles.”

Al Vuona, “Symptoms and signs of a true wine geek,” Telegram, June 22, 2017

Drip dickey is a brand of wine collar, an accessory that goes around the bottle’s neck to prevent dripping and staining. A dickey — also spelled dicky — can refer to a detachable shirt front or a shirt collar. The origin isn’t clear except that the word might be a diminutive of the name Dick.

mistress dispeller

“Yu, a gentle-looking man in his early forties, with the placid demeanor of a yoga instructor, works as a mistress dispeller, a job that barely existed a decade ago but is becoming common in major Chinese cities.”

Jiayang Fan, “China’s Mistress Dispellers,” The New Yorker, June 26, 2017

Mistress dispellers, says The New York Times, “specialize in ending affairs between married men and their extramarital lovers.” Hired by “a scorned wife” for upwards of tens of thousands of dollars, their services include coaching “women on how to save their marriages” and subtly infiltrating “the mistress’s life, winning her friendship and trust in an attempt to break up the affair.”

In Chinese, a mistress is known as a xiao san, says The New Yorker, or “little third,” which can mean “everything from a partner in a casual affair to a long-term ‘kept woman.’” Besides faking a friendship, other mistress-dispelling methods include payoffs, public shaming, a sudden job transfer, and seduction by a male mistress dispeller.

The language of colors

One of our favorite “buzzworthy” words so far this year is the Japanese mizu. Translating as “water,” mizu isn’t just a shade of blue but a light blue its own color, as GOOD puts it. That got us wondering about other colorful untranslatables.

Kind of blues

What color is this?


Pink, right? Not “light red” (and certainly not Millennial Pink). Just as English speakers automatically differentiate between pink and red, speakers of other languages do the same for what we call light blue and dark blue. (In Chinese, by the way, pink, fěn hóng or “powder red,” is considered a shade of red.)

Modern Hebrew has Tchelet for light blue and Kachol for dark. Turkish considers navy blue, or lacivert, separate from light blue, what they call mavi, with lacivert coming from the Persian word for “lapis lazuli” and mavi coming from the Arabic word for “water.” Russian speakers do the same with light blue (goluboy) and dark blue (siniy).

Now you might think that regardless of color words, we must all perceive color the same way, right? Researchers at MIT would say wrong. A study from 2007 found that native Russian speakers were quicker to distinguish light from dark blues than native English speakers.

No blues

It might be hard to imagine a world without blue. It’s the favorite color of the majority of Americans (at least according to a few different surveys). Crayola has about 35 shades of it (not including their newest one which you can help name). Then there’s that damned dress.

But some ancient cultures may not have had the color, or at least didn’t make the distinction from others. Business Insider (by way of Science Alert) says several ancient texts don’t contain the word “blue.” For instance, “in the Odyssey, Homer describes the ocean as ‘wine-dark’ and other strange hues, but he never uses the word ‘blue’.” A philologist analyzed “ancient Icelandic, Hindu, Chinese, Arabic and Hebrew texts, to find no mention of the word blue.” The Egyptians, the only culture at the time to make blue dyes, seem to be the first to have a word for that particular hue.

It’s not easy being blue/green

Some modern languages also don’t make the distinction between blue and green. Pashto, a language in Iran, uses the same word, shīn. To make the distinction, a Pashto speaker might say “shīn like the sky” or “shīn like the grass.” Vietnamese is similar, using xanh for both and specifying “like the sky” or “like the leaves.”

The Yukatek Maya language uses yax while the Yebamasa of the Rio Piraparana region in Colombia say sumese. Bantu languages Zulu, Xhosa, and Tswana also use the same word for both colors. Zulu and Xhosa employ the suffix -luhlaza while Tswana uses tala.

Just a few hues

The Himba people of Namibia not only call blue and green by the same name, they have only four color terms total (other languages have 11 or 12). Buru refers to particular shades of green and blue; dambu to red, brown, and other shades of green; zuzu to dark shades of blue, red, green, and purple; and vapa to white and some shades of yellow.

So if having two different words for light and dark blue affects native Russian speakers’ perception of color, how does having fewer color words affect Himba people’s perception? Jules Davidoff of Goldsmiths University of London conducted a study with some Himba members and found they had a difficult time distinguishing blue from green. However, they were able to detect very subtle differences between shades of green.

Red-green, you’re being impossible

Then there are what are called impossible or forbidden colors — that is, colors the human eye can’t see.

As How Stuff Works explains it, color-sensing cells called cones are what make us able to see certain colors. Other cells called opponent neurons process electrical signals from the cones. The two types of opponent neurons — red-green and blue-yellow — signal, respectively, either red or green and either blue or yellow, but not both. Which is why the human eye can’t detect blue-yellow or red-green. (Keep in mind blue-yellow and red-green are colors on their own, not a mixture of two.)

However, some experiments have shown it’s possible to see impossible hues. You can even train yourself to see them.

Colors of invention

Now how about those colors that only exist in fictional worlds? As you can imagine, there are a lot. Here are a few of our favorites.

In The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams, hooloovoo is highly intelligent, sentient shade of blue. The Doctor of Doctor Who mentions seeing one in the episode, The Rings of Akhaten: “There go some Panbabylonians. A Lugal-Irra-Kush. Some Lucanians. A Hooloovoo.”

In Terry Pratchett’s Discworld novels, octarine, a kind of fluorescent greenish-yellow purple, is the color of magic. Also referred to as the eighth color (in addition to red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet), it can only be seen by cats and wizards. The prefix octa- means eight while the suffix -ine means “of or relating to.”

In The Shadow of the Torturer by Gene Wolfe, fuligin is a color that’s described as “darker than black” and “the color of soot.” The term fuligin might come from fūlīgō, the Latin word for soot. Real-life blacker than black colors include super black, which NASA developed to absorb light across multiple wavelength bands, and Vantablack, a kind of super black material which absorbs “all but 0.035 percent of visible light.”

What are some of your favorite color words?

Word Buzz Wednesday: capsule wardrobe, spoofing, rush-grumble

Toby and Clarrisa (2)

Welcome to Word Buzz Wednesday, your go-to place for the most interesting words of the week. The latest: ante-dating a fashion term, an unfunny parody, goat love.

capsule wardrobe

“In 1985, Donna Karan launched a collection centered on what she called her seven easy pieces. It offered working women a stylish, flattering capsule wardrobe that could be simply mixed and matched for a variety of looks—and a solution to the perennial problem of what to wear to the office.”

Marc Bain, “Why it’s so hard for women to figure out what to wear to work in 2017,” Quartz, June 11, 2017

While Business Insider says London boutique owner Susie Faux coined the term capsule wardrobe in the 1970s, there are several earlier citations. The earliest we found is from 1947, but it’s a partial citation and difficult to confirm. The earliest confirmed citation we found is from a book first published in 1956, What Shall I Wear?: The What, Where, When, and how Much of Fashion by Claire McCardell.


“You could call it a new blend of telemarketing call, and it’s becoming harder for us to filter, thanks to what’s known as ‘spoofing.’”

Meredith Anderson, “Cracking down on unwanted calls,” WRDW-TV, June 15, 2017

Spoofing, says WRDW-TV, refers to “when telemarketers use sneaky software to create a fake caller ID from a local number so you think you are getting a real call from a local number.” Spoofing can also involve fake email addresses and URLs, says Investopedia.

The word spoof meaning hoax or deception originated around 1889 from spouf, a game invented by British comedian Arthur Roberts. Spoof came to mean to parody or satirize around 1914.


“At the University of Hawaii at Manoa, they have what’s called a cyber-canoe — no, it’s not a virtual boat. It uses ultra-high resolution screens that are seamless light emitting diode displays — LED screens.”

Karin Heineman, “3-D Wall of Virtual Reality,” Inside Science, June 16, 2017

CANOE of cyber-CANOE stands for “cyber-enabled collaboration, analysis, navigation, and observation environment,” and is “a hybrid reality visualization environment allowing you to look at large-scale data in resolutions that we couldn’t achieve previously.”

Pinoy pood

“They come stuffed in red Chinese takeout bags with ‘Chinese food’ crossed out and rewritten as ‘Pinoy pood’ — joking slang for ‘Filipino food.’”

Ligaya Mishan, “In Tama’s No-Frills Space, the Filipino Food Is Anything But,” The New York Times, June 15, 2017

Pinoy is an informal way of saying “Filipino” and seems to come from -pino of Filipino and the suffix -y. As for where pood comes from, we’re really not sure. If we had to wager a guess, perhaps the p- of pagkain, the Tagalog word for “food,” and the -ood of “food.” While we may not know were pood comes from, we do know we like this parody.


“This is what’s called the ‘rush-grumble.’ The noises sound like blubbering, mewing, snuffling, clucking, almost like a dog squeaky toy that’s seen better days.”

Andrew Amelinckx, “Goat Sex: Everything You Wanted to Know But Were Afraid to Ask,” Modern Farmer, June 16, 2017

The rush-grumble is an all-in-one caprine mating call and dance. Modern Farmer says the buck runs next to the female, “nuzzling her side and rear with his tongue out and his front legs and ears jutting forward, all while hooting and hollering like a country boy at a monster truck rally.” And they say goat-romance is dead.

[Photo: “Toby and Clarissa (2)” by The Case Farm, CC BY 2.0]

Word Buzz Wednesday: hung parliament, les Rosbifs, devil’s dandruff

O the Roast Beef of Old England ('The Gate of Calais') by William Hogarth
“O the Roast Beef of Old England (‘The Gate of Calais’)” by William Hogarth

Welcome to Word Buzz Wednesday, your go-to place for the most interesting words of the week. The latest: an undecided government, a gastronomical insult, a drug is a drug is a drug is a drug.

hung parliament

“In the case of a hung parliament, the leader of the party with the most seats is given the opportunity to try to form a government.”

Rajeev Syal and Alan Travis, “What is a hung parliament and what happens now?” The Guardian, June 9, 2017

In the United Kingdom, says The Guardian, to gain a majority and the right to form the next government, a party must win 326 of 650 seats in the House of Commons. The Conservatives, the party of current Prime Minister Theresa May, won “only 318 seats, eight short of that magic number 326, which delivers an overall majority and the keys to Downing Street.” The result? A hung parliament.

The term hung parliament comes from hung jury, a jury unable to reach a verdict. That phrase originated around 1838 while hung parliament is from the early 1970s.

les Rosbifs

“The historical French slang for the British, les Rosbifs, references our love of a good roast. I’m glad that they never got around to calling us Yorkshire puddings.”

Richard Vines, “Where to Get the Best Roast Beef,” Bloomberg, June 12, 2017

According to the BBC, the moniker Rosbifs became associated with the English “as far as the French were concerned in the 18th Century, simply because it was a very popular way of cooking,” and was the title of a popular patriotic song, “The Roast Beef of England.”

ear hustle

“‘Ear Hustle’ — the phrase is slang for eavesdropping — is a collaboration between Earlonne Woods and Antwan Williams, both prisoners at San Quentin, and Nigel Poor, a Bay Area visual artist who teaches photography classes at the prison.”

Beth Schwartzapfel, “Meet the Creators of the New Podcast From Inside San Quentin Prison,” The Marshall Project, June 12, 2017

According to Cassell’s Dictionary of Slang, the term ear hustle originated in the 1990s as prison slang. By extension, an ear hustler is someone who gossips or eavesdrops. According to Street Talk: Da Official Guide to Hip-Hop & Urban Slanguage, ear hustling refers specifically to overhearing false information and is also known as burglarizing a conversation.

coffin cubicle

“These small, wooden boxes of 15 sq ft, are known as ‘coffin cubicles.’”

Benny Lam, “Boxed in: life inside the ‘coffin cubicles’ of Hong Kong – in pictures,” The Guardian, June 7, 2017

Coffin cubicles refer to impossibly small subdivided apartments in Hong Kong, big enough for one narrow bed and sealed all around with wooden planks. An 400 square foot apartment  “can be subdivided to accommodate nearly 20 double-decker sealed bed spaces,” says The Guardian.

devil’s dandruff

“Though, personally, my favorite DEA-published slang term for cocaine would have to be ‘devil’s dandruff.’”

Kate Ryan, “The DEA Has The Best Slang Terms For All The Drugs,” GOOD, June 12, 2017

Other Drug Enforcement Administration slang terms for narcotics include west coast turnarounds for amphetamines, famous dimes for crack, Beyonce for heroin, Hawaiian sunshine for LSD, and Alice B. Toklas for marijuana.