A Brief History of Yippee-Ki-Yay

Twenty-five years ago this week, the action movie Die Hard opened and Bruce Willis uttered that famous line.

But where does the yippee-ki-yay part come from? (If you’re more interested in the origins of the second half of that saying, check out this article from Slate.) Let’s break it down.

The yip part of yippee is old. It originated in the 15th century and meant “to cheep, as a young bird,” according to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED). The more well-known meaning, to emit a high-pitched bark, came about around 1907, as per the OED, and gained the figurative meaning “to shout; to complain.”

Yip is imitative in origin but probably also influenced by the 16th century yelp, which has an even older meaning of “boasting, vainglorious speaking.” Yawp is even older, coming about in the 14th century, but now is primarily associated with Walt Whitman’s late 19th century “barbaric yawp.”

The yips are “nervousness or tension that causes an athlete to fail to perform effectively, especially in missing short putts in golf.” As we mentioned in a Word Soup column back in November, some sources, including the OED, cite the first known use of the yips as 1962. However, we found a citation from 1941: “The match consumed three hours and thirty minutes, most of it because Cobb, the tingling-nerved old baseball Tiger, got the ‘yips‘ on many greens and would step back and line up his putts several times per putt.”

Yippee came about after yip. The earliest record of this exclamation of delight is from 1920 in Sinclair Lewis’s novel, Main Street: “She galloped down a block and as she jumped from a curb across a welter of slush, she gave a student ‘Yippee!’” Yippee beans, by the way, are amphetamines.

Yippie with an –ie refers to “a member of a group of politically radical hippies, active especially during the late 1960s.” The word, which originated in 1968, stands for Youth International Party and was modeled after hippie.

Now how about the whole phrase, yippee-ki-yay? It seems to be a play on “yippie yi yo kayah,” a refrain from a 1930s Bing Crosby song, I’m An Old Cowhand.

Do cowboys really say this? We’re guessing probably not, unless of course they’re single-handedly (and shoelessly) defeating a gang of bank robbers on Christmas Eve.

This Week’s Language Blog Roundup: cracker, Ћ, giant Mr. Darcy

Cracker

Welcome to this week’s Language Blog Roundup, in which we bring you the highlights from our favorite language blogs and the latest in word news and culture.

In words in the news, the British government overruled traditional definitions and are allowing “the words for the spouses to be used interchangeably for people of either gender in some contexts.” Kathleen Parker at The Washington Post gave a few reasons why cracker will never compare with the N-word, and Code Switch at NPR delved into the secret history of cracker.

The Smithsonian wondered if musicians can save the Welsh language. In Shanghai, ancient inscriptions, “believed to be 1,400 years older than the most ancient written Chinese language,” have been discovered. The New York Times explored a possible connection between baby babble and birdsong.

Slate claimed that profanity is changing for the better. Meanwhile, the word shitstorm entered Germany’s standard dictionary. The long-awaited new edition of Hobson-Jobson, a glossary of Anglo-Indian words, is now available.

Australian restaurateur Paul Mathis proposed the Ћ, a shortening of the. The Atlantic questioned if we really need it, and Tom Chivers of The Telegraph recounted other attempts at making the English language better. Meanwhile, we learned about the origin of a much-used symbol, the pilcrow.

Robert Lane Greene interviewed American teenage hyperpolyglot, Timothy Doner, who speaks 20 languages. Ben Zimmer kicked off his new column at the Wall Street Journal, Word on the Street, with a look at the prefix cyber.

At Lingua Franca, Anne Curzan gave a polite defense of no problem; William Germano examined the taxonomy of greeting cards; and Allan Metcalf pulled into reduplication station. He joined Arika Okrent who considered five meanings of argle-bargle and the phonetic pitfalls of the shm reduplication. Arika also qualified the old rule, “i before e except after c.”

At the Macmillan Dictionary blog, Laine Redpath Cole told the story behind South African, and Stan Carey told explained the minutiae of Latin plurals.

James Harbeck showed how foreign words have influenced political and military words in English. Neal Whitman uncovered the spatula’s linguistic origins. Kory Stamper shared some amusing editorial correspondence and parsed dictionary lookups.

In words of the week, Fritinancy picked soucriant, “a vampire witch who sheds her skin at night and turns into a fireball,” and mixonymics, “the creative naming of cocktails.” Word Spy spotted stealthwear, “clothing designed to prevent the wearer from being tracked, recognized, or photographed,” and hate-watch, “to watch a TV show, movie, or actor that one vigorously dislikes.”

Lynneguist told us what ordering a hot dog in the UK might get you, and spoke with the Chicago Manual of Style about why she started her blog, some surprising differences between American and British English, and words that are untranslatable.

The Dialect Blog explored the ever-shifting dialects of the television show, Orphan Black. The OxfordWords Blog had fun with Sein-language, or lexicon from Seinfeld, and The Week rounded up 10 SyFy movies just as ridiculous as the upcoming Sharknado.

Ted Scheinman of The Paris Review was lucky enough to attend the Jane Austen Summer Program. If you’re in London, check out the frightening cool giant statue of Mr. Darcy in Serpentine Lake of Hyde Park, and if you’re on Google Maps, go explore Harry Potter’s Diagon Alley.

The OxfordWords Blog toasted some whisky words. Jonathan Green, aka Mr. Slang, shared a wonderful timeline of slang terms for drunk. NPR explained how “boozy talk” can differ between men and women. And look out, cronut, here comes the frissant, part fritter, part croissant. Also keep your eye out for sonkers, grunts, slumps, and crumbles.

This we also learned some Yiddish words, 11 obscure regional phrases for “it’s really hot,” and 12 colorful American slang words that start with Z. We got a lesson in the international language of corruption and the art of ghosting, otherwise known as the French leave or the Irish goodbye.

And on that note. . . .

[Photo: “Cracker,” CC BY 2.0 by Tony Alter]

Word Soup Wednesday: anxiet, tickety-boo, truthinews

Television

It’s time for another installment of Word Soup Wednesday, in which we bring you some weird, funny, and interesting words from recent TV.

anxiet

Roger Furlong: “I’m burning calories with the old anxiety diet. You know, the anxiet.”

“D.C.,” Veep, June 23, 2013

Anxiet is a combination of anxiety and diet. Other bizarre diets include the vinegar and water diet popularized by poet Lord Byron; the grapefruit diet, also known as the Hollywood Diet; and the cabbage soup diet. See here for even more.

border surge

Stephen Colbert: “The boys over here think they can get conservatives like me to swallow their amnesty enchilada by including so-called security measures, also known as a ‘border surge.’”

The Colbert Report, June 27, 2013

The term border surge refers to a surge, or increase, of security along the U.S-Mexican border. The plan is to “put 18,000 additional federal agents and hundreds of miles of new fencing between the two neighbors,” according to the Washington Post, or, as Colbert says, “double the border patrol with one agent every 1,000 feet.”

The proposal was approved by the Senate last week.

Colombian necktie

Gideon: “They call this the Colombian necktie.”

“Roti,” Hannibal, June 6, 2013

The Colombian necktie is “a method of execution in which the victim’s throat is slashed vertically, then his tongue is pulled out through the gaping wound toward the sternum,” dangling over the chest like a necktie.

The term comes “from its frequent use as a method of intimidation during La Violencia,” a Colombian civil war. Related is the Glasgow smile.

confidence man

Linda: “Gene learned confidence.”
Louise: “From a confidence man.”

“The Unnatural,” Bob’s Burgers, May 12, 2013

A confidence man is someone “who swindles his victims by using a confidence game,” so-called, says the Online Etymology Dictionary, because “the victim is induced to hand over money as a token of confidence.”

furlough

Mike: “Please, I can’t afford to be furloughed.”

“Shutdown,” Veep, June 2, 2013

A furlough is a temporary, sometimes unpaid, leave of absence. In government, furloughs can result if a plan to reduce a budget deficit is not resolved, resulting in a shutdown. The word comes from the Dutch verlof, “permission.”

high, hot, and a helluva lot

Jenny: “High, hot, and a helluva lot!”

Episode 8, Season 2, Call the Midwife, May 19, 2013

The phrase high, hot, and a helluva lot refers to the 3H enema, which apparently is a hot water and soap suds enema, according to Robbie E. Davis-Floyd, author of Birth as an American Rite of Passage. The enema may be given to “selected patients who have given the staff a hard time,” says writer Paul Dickson.

We couldn’t find the origin of the term high, hot, and helluva lot or the 3H enema. If anyone knows, please tell us in the comments.

put the tin hat on it

Sister Evangelina: “That just puts the tin hat on it.”

Episode 8, Season 2, Call the Midwife, May 19, 2013

To put the tin hat on it, according to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), means “to bring something to a [usually unwelcome] close or climax.” The phrase may have origins in World War I, where the “tin hat” could have been “the last piece of the kit” for a soldier.

A similar phrase is to put the kibosh on something. While the origin of kibosh is unclear, one theory is that it comes from the Gaelic caip bháis, “cap of death,” which was “sometimes said to be the black cap a judge would don when pronouncing a death sentence.”

rough puff

Cody: “They’re expecting a puff piece. There’s the bluff puff. Start out with you’re her friend. . . .Then switch right over to rough puff. No one does rough puff like you.”

“First Response,” Veep, June 9, 2013

A rough puff is a puff piece that has become something that makes the intended target look bad. A puff piece is “a journalistic form of puffery,” or “extravagant praise.” Puff piece originated around 1950, says the OED.

tickety-boo

Dr. Turner: “That’s all tickety-boo marvelous.”

Episode 7, Season 2, Call the Midwife, May 12, 2013

Tickety-boo is British slang for correct or satisfactory. The term may come from the Hindi ṭhīk hai, “all right,” says the OED, or from the phrase, that’s the ticket.

truthinews

Stephen Colbert: “So this [IRS] scandal is not connected to Obama. I don’t want to hear that. I want to hear tonight’s Wørd. Truthinews. I don’t know about you but I do not watch the news to see what I don’t want to hear.”

The Colbert Report, June 24, 2013

Truthinews is based on a term Stephen Colbert introduced in 2005, truthiness, which is, according to Colbert, “ignoring what the facts say and instead going with what feels right in your gut.” Truthinews happens “when you put a bunch of guts together,” and cable networks that practice truthinews “have only one obligation: to report what the American people already think.”

[Photo: CC BY 2.0 by Jiří Zralý]

This Week’s Language Blog Roundup: passings, weird spelling, cocktail names

cocktail for spring

cocktail for spring

Welcome to this week’s Language Blog Roundup, in which we bring you the highlights from our favorite language blogs and the latest in word news and culture.

We were saddened by the passing of journalist Michael Hastings and science fiction author Richard Matheson, whose novels include I Am Legend, Hell House, and The Shrinking Man. We will also miss Devo drummer Alan Myers, and actor James Gandolfini (read Sopranos creator David Chase’s moving eulogy).

In language news, a study showed grammar may be hidden in toddler babble, and Japan’s national broadcaster is being sued by a viewer “for ‘mental distress’ caused by an excessive use of words borrowed from English.” Meanwhile, Idibon rounded up the world’s weirdest languages.

At the Boston Globe, Ben Zimmer taught us some mobspeak, and at Visual Thesaurus focused on courtroom words, including Justice Antonin Scalia’s argle-bargle. Meanwhile, Slate created a handy glossary of Scalia-isms.

At Language Log, Geoff Pullum discussed the long-awaited split infinitive at The Economist. At OxfordWords blog, Simon Thomas rounded up five words that are older than we thought; at The Week, James Harbeck looked into four very old words for very new things; and at Macmillan Dictionary blog, Stan Carey offered some fossil words of yore.

Also at Macmillan, Gill Francis advised us to stop asking silly questions about grammar, and Michael Rundell taught us about bagel and other tennis lingo; and on his own blog, Stan hunted for the origins of tantivy, and explored the difference between envy and jealousy.

Arika Okrent told us about four subtle changes to the English language, and a tiny island where men have their own language. Kory Stamper explained why dictionaries need to change with the times. At Lingua Franca, Anne Curzan looked into whether a sight for sore eyes is a good or bad thing.

At World Wide Words, Michael Quinion shed light on why restaurateur doesn’t have an n while restaurant does, which explains why we have such trouble spelling it. But it looks like we’re not the only ones who are bad at spelling, and who can blame us since English spelling is so bizarre and people should relax about it anyway.

In words of the week, Fritinancy selected chapulling, “a term used by Turkey’s anti-government activists to describe their peaceful demonstrations,” and syzygy, “a straight-line configuration of three celestial bodies in a gravitational system.”

Erin McKean’s choices included dataveillance, “the ability to surveil people through their data trail”; mumblecore, a type of film that features “improvising nonprofessional actors and have low budgets (and low production values)”; and jaripeo, the Mexican rodeo.

Word Spy spotted zenware, “software designed to enhance focus by removing or blocking a computer’s visual distractions, and threenager, “a three-year-old who displays the moodiness and attitude of a teenager.”

The Dialect Blog nominated Singapore English – or Singlish – as the dialect of the 21st century, and took a look at Anglicized Spanish. Lynneguist had her own take on American and Brits pronouncing words from Spanish.

In grammar, Grammar Girl gave some great tips on how to avoid the comma splice, and Mark Allen compared since and because. In punctuation news, we learned what some people are doing about “apostrophe catastrophes,” as well as some tips about how to use hyphens correctly.

In naming, Slate related the history behind Kemosabe; Salon grouped bizarre celebrity baby names into eight categories; and The Guardian offered a celebrity baby name generator. Early Modern England shared some medieval pet names and The Morning News told us how cocktails get named.

We loved these alternative libraries in New York, these artifacts from the New York Public Library’s children’s books exhibition, and these photos of discarded books. We enjoyed this map showing the original meaning of place names in North America, this Venn diagram of bro-ness, and this LEGO glossary.

This week we also learned how eight famous writers chose their pen names, 12 other famous writers’ take on rejection, that Jane Austen may replace Charles Darwin on the 10 pound note, and that James Joyce’s Finnegan’s Wake has taken off in China. We love Bloomsday – or is that Blumesday? – but also wondered why Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway doesn’t get her own day.

That’s it for this week!

[Photo: CC BY 2.0 by Rob Ireton]