Category Archives: language

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Puppet Words on a String

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Happy World Puppetry Day!

Who doesn’t love puppets? Okay, some are super creepy, but at least we know our 10 favorite puppet words won’t come suddenly come alive and attack us. At least we hope not. Enjoy!

mammet

“The unhappy Charles II. of Spain, a kind of ‘mammet’ (as the English called the Richard II. who appeared up in Islay, having escaped from Pomfret Castle), had for his first wife a daughter of Henrietta, the favorite sister of our Charles II.”

Julian Hawthorne, The Lock and Key Library, 1915

A mammet is a false god, idol, or “person who is the tool or puppet of another; a man of straw,” according to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED). The word comes from the Old French mahommet, “idol,” which comes from the medieval Christian belief that the prophet Muhammad was worshipped as a god.

marionette

“Don’t expect a flight sim here: The control is very arcadelike, and at slow speeds can feel more like you’re controlling a marionette than a group of planes.”

Chris Kohler, “Super Paper Mario Leads Onslaught of New Wii Games,” Wired, April 27, 2007

The word marionette is French and means literally “little little Mary,” says the Online Etymology Dictionary. Marionette is a diminutive of the Old French mariole, “figurine, idol, picture of the Virgin Mary.”

In addition to being a puppet on strings, marionette also refers to the buffie or buffle-headed duck, as well as “a small complicated arrangement at the end of the batten in a ribbon-loom,” which, according to the Century Dictionary, “is curiously lifelike in its motions,” hence the name.

Muppet

“With the exception of curmudgeons (RIP Andy Rooney) such as Oscar, Statler, and Waldorf, the Muppets are brimming with optimism from their pieholes to their puppetholes.”

Mark Peters, “Fake Squid, Psychiatric Patients, And Other Muppet Meanings,” The Huffington Post, November 23, 2011

The Muppets were created by Jim Henson in 1955, and the term, Muppet, was apparently an arbitrary coinage by Henson, says the OED, and not a blend of marionette and puppet, although puppet is an obvious influence as well as perhaps moppet.

Throughout the 1980s, Muppet gained other meanings, including a fishing lure made to resemble “a young squid”; British prison slang for “a prisoner with psychiatric problems”; and “an incompetent or ineffectual person; an idiot.”

neurospast

“The Czar, a miserable neurospast at best, has neither the courage nor the brains to cope with the situation.”

The Comrade: An Illustrated Socialist Monthly, September 1903

Neurospast, a puppet on strings, is Greek in origin, coming from neuron, “nerve,” and spastikos, “afflicted with spasms.”

pootly-nautch

“If it is true, and I believe it is, that every great institution must have a big man behind it, what do you expect of Patton’s Princeton Pootlynautch?”

Alexander Berkman and Emma Goldman, Mother Earth, March 1907

Pootly-nautch, a puppet show, comes from a Hindi term meaning “wooden-puppet-dance.” For more English words derived from Indian languages, check out our post, Hobson-Jobson Soup.

poppet

“Six days ago, when I brought her my first earnings in full—twenty-three roubles forty copecks altogether—she called me her poppet: ‘poppet,’ said she, ‘my little poppet.’”

Fyodor Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment, 1917

Poppet, an obsolete term for puppet, is also a term of endearment, a doll, an effigy used in witchcraft, and in shipbuilding, a piece of wood used for various purposes.

There are a number of possibly origins of the word, says the OED, including the Middle French poupee, the Anglo-Norman poppe, and the Middle Dutch poppe, all of which mean “doll” and ultimately come from the Latin pupa, “girl, doll.” (The pupa is so-called because of its resemblance to a swaddled infant or doll.)

Punchinello

“Sophia was charmed with the contemplation of so heroic an action, and began to compliment herself with much premature flattery, when Cupid, who lay hid in her muff, suddenly crept out, and like Punchinello in a puppet-show, kicked all out before him.”

Henry Fielding, The History of Tom Jones: A Foundling

Punchinello is “the short fat buffoon or clown in an Italian puppet show” originating in the 17th century. The word ultimately comes from the Italian pollecena, “turkey pullet (from the resemblance between its beak and Punchinello’s nose).”

Punch, “the quarrelsome hook-nosed husband of Judy in the comic puppet show Punch and Judy,” is a shortening of Punchinello. This is where we get the term pleased as Punch, which refers to “his unfailing triumph over enemies.”

quisling

“Using the 2011 English riots as justification, the conservative junta introduced a brutal and oppressive regime where the BBC has become a quisling tool of the state by commandeering every CCTV camera in the UK.”

Kevin McKenna, “When Glasgow’s Undead Rise Up,” The Guardian, August 20, 2011

A quisling is “a traitor who serves as the puppet of the enemy occupying his or her country,” and is named for Vidkun Quisling, the head of Norway’s government during the Nazi occupation in the 1940s.

sock puppet

“One of the joys of the Internet age is the great new lingo it is producing. To ‘flame wars’ and ‘phishing’ we can now add ‘sock puppet.’”

“Sock Puppet Bites Man,” The New York Times, September 13, 2006

A sock puppet is a false identity used by someone on the Internet “to talk about themselves in the guise of a neutral observer,” often in the form of extravagant praise. Some notable examples.

Wayang (musée d'art oriental, Venise)

Wayang (musée d'art oriental, Venise)

wayang

“Wahid may be the ultimate master of the wayang, Javanese shadow puppetry in which nothing is as it appears.”

Ron Moreau, “Duel of the Shadow Puppets,” Newsweek, October 24, 1999

Wayang refers to “the shadow-play of [Indonesia and Malaysia], played with colored marionettes cut out of flat pieces of leather.” Wayang is the Javanese word for “shadow.”

[Photo: Untitled, No known copyright restrictions, by Smithsonian Institute]

[Photo: “Wayang (musée d’art oriental, Venise),” CC BY 2.0 by dalbera]

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Coupon Lingo: 10 (Not So) Extreme Couponing Words

low prices everyday

Low Prices Everday, by _tar0_

Daylight saving time – or “spring forward” – begins this Sunday. While we’re not sure how “losing” an hour saves us anything, we were inspired to explore another way one may save: through coupons. Our explorations opened a whole world of couponing lingo. Our 10 favorites are here.

blinkie

“Next comes a bag of cherry tomatoes and three jars of Peter Pan creamy peanut butter, free with a doubled coupon—called a blinkie because it was dispensed from one of the blinking coupon boxes installed in grocery store aisles.”

Matt Schwartz, “Bargain Junkies Are Beating Retailers at Their Own Game,” Wired, November 29, 2010

Blinkies are a type of coupon dispensed from a machine in a store aisle or at checkout. The machine generally has a blinking red light designed to get shoppers’ attention.

A blinkie is also “a small animated graphic for use on a webpage, usually taking the form of picture or phrase with blinking lights around it.”

BOGO

“They decide which numbers will be most enticing, and whether ‘50% off’ sounds better than ‘buy one get one’ offers—known as ‘BOGO,’ in industry parlance.”

Carl Bialik, Elizabeth Holmes, and Ray A. Smith, “Many Discounts, Few Deals,” The Wall Street Journal, December 15, 2010

BOGO stands for “buy one get one (free).” The earliest citations we could find for BOGO were the early 1990s, although the acronym could be older than that.

catalina

“If you’ve shopped for groceries at a large supermarket, you’ve undoubtedly noticed the long ‘string’ of coupons that print out at the register along with your store receipt. These checkout coupons, or ‘Catalinas,’ as coupon shoppers commonly call them, are incredibly valuable to coupon shoppers.”

Jill Cataldo, “How ‘Catalina’ Coupons Help You Save,” The Eagle Tribune, May 7, 2010

A catalina coupon is printed at the register after purchase, and is named for the marketing firm behind the idea.

extreme couponing

“The advent of extreme couponing, popularized by the TLC show of the same name about people who clip coupons obsessively, is sparking a backlash as some manufacturers and retailers complain that the pursuit of a big bargain has an ugly side.”

Allison Linn, “Extreme Couponing Sparks Backlash,” NBC News, September 15, 2011

A Wall Street Journal article from March 8, 2010 seems to be the first to mention the term extreme couponers, or “discount devotees [who] have formed vast online communities that collectively unearth and swap digital, mobile-phone and paper coupons,” combining “dozens of coupons and [going] from store to store buying items in quantity, getting stuff free of charge.” The TLC reality show, Extreme Couponing, debuted in December 2010.

Extreme couponing is a play on the phrase, extreme sport, a sport featuring a level of exertion and danger. According to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), extreme sport originated in 1989 in Skiing Trade News, although a book called Seventh Grade: Most Extreme Climbing was published in 1974.

Coca-Cola is credited with issuing the first coupon

meal ticket

“The government was down to its last bean and wondering where the Heck its next meal-ticket was coming from, when in blows Mr. Man, tucks up his shirt-sleeves, and starts the tables.”

P.G. Wodehouse, The Prince and Betty, 1912

While we now mainly think of meal ticket in its figurative sense – “a person or thing depended on as a source of financial support” – it originally referred to “a card or ticket entitling the holder to a meal or meals,” often at a discount.

Meal tickets originated around 1870 and seemed to be given out to single men and women known as mealers, those who ate in one place and lodged in another. The figurative sense arose around 1899.

peelie

“Try to find one with the sticker coupon (also called a ‘peelie’) to save 50 cents and get it free after doubled coupon.”

Michelle Dudas, “Smart Savings: Clip Coupons, Save for Education,” Fay Observer, December 31, 2011

A peelie is a coupon peeled from the item’s packaging. According to the OED, peelie, or peely-wally, is Scottish slang for “thin; gaunt; pale.” Peelie may be an alteration of pale.

rain check

“So often the store will run out of a sale item and issue a rain check to be used at a later date. . . .The stores certainly honor rain checks, but will not accept the now-expired coupon.”

Jan Leasure, “Store’s Rain-Check Policy Makes Coupon Useless,” The Telegraph, December 8, 1993

The earliest meaning of rain check originated around 1884 and referred to tickets or coupons given to spectators at rained-out baseball games. The figurative meaning of “a promise that an unaccepted offer will be renewed in the future” arose around 1899, says the OED.

The consumer meaning – “an assurance to a customer that an item on sale that is sold out or out of stock may be purchased later at the sale price” – is the newest, coming about around 1955. (The time after World War II led to “mass consumption frenzy.”)

stackable

“With fast-ending sales, stackable coupons and online-only discounts, in-store shoppers often have good reason to question whether the price they see is really the best deal out there.”

Kelli Grant, “App Savvy,” CBS News, April 2, 2012

Stackable coupons are those that can be combined with other coupons and discounts.

stockpile

“We get a glimpse at the couponer’s stockpile. The warehouse-like space usually contains 1,568 bottles of soap, 934 frozen dinners and 6,237 bags of kitty litter. . . .Frightening? Yep. But it’s also a little appealing, especially when you watch the show’s featured couponers pay double digits for a stockpile with a triple-digit price tag.”

Sonya Sorich, “Extreme Couponing on TLC Is a Little Too Extreme,” Ledger-Enquirer, September 27, 2011

Stockpile originated as a U.S. mining term in 1872, says the OED, and referred to “a pile of coal or ore accumulated at the surface after having been mined.” In the early 1940s, the word came to mean “a supply stored for future use,” as well as specifically “an accumulation of nuclear weapons.” Stockpile may also be used as verb meaning “to accumulate and maintain a supply of for future use.”

twofer

“The twofer deal involves a certain expense to producers in the matter of distribution of ‘coupons’ redeemable at the box office on the basis of two tickets for the price of one.”

“Public Likes Bargain Price,” Beaver County Times, October 21, 1974

Twofer, short for “two for (a dollar, etc.),” originated around 1911 as U.S. slang for a cheap cigar, according to the OED, “a cigar sold at two for a quarter.” The coupon meaning, attested to 1948, at first referred specifically to tickets for a play, but now seems to refer to any two for one discount, as well as “an offer, a deal, or an arrangement in which a single expense yields a dual return.”

Twofer used to mean “one who belongs to two minority groups and can be counted, as by an employer, as part of two quotas,” arose around 1969.

[Photo: “Low Prices Everyday,” CC BY 2.0 by _tar0_]

[Photo: “Coca-Cola,” Wired Magazine]

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A Short-Tempered History of the ‘Curmudgeon’

oscar the grouch

oscar the grouch, by whatleydude

It’s National Curmudgeon Day, which means you can embrace your inner grouch and grumble, complain, grouse, kvetch, and whine to your heart’s (dis)content. We’ll be taking a look at the history of curmudgeon words.

The word curmudgeon is an old one, originating in the 1570s, but where it comes from is unknown. The most famous suggestion, says World Wide Words, “is that of Dr Samuel Johnson in his Dictionary of 1755 [in which] he quoted an unknown correspondent as suggesting that it came from the French coeur méchant (evil or malicious heart).” However, this is now considered unlikely.

The Online Etymology Dictionary says “the first syllable may be cur ‘dog,’” or that the word may “have been borrowed from Gaelic” – muigean means “disagreeable person” – “with variant spelling of intensive prefix ker-,” a slang term “echoic of the sound of the fall of some heavy body.”

An older grouchy word is crab, which comes not from the crustacean but the sour crab apple, which in turn may come from Swedish dialect word skrabba, “fruit of the wild apple-tree,” according to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED). Crab came to refer to a sour person in the 1570s.

Malcontent, which now especially refers to “one who rebels against the established system,” also means “a chronically dissatisfied person,” and entered the English language from the French in the 1580s. Crosspatch came about around 1699, says the OED, and was formed by joining, you guessed it, cross and patch, where patch refers to “a ninny; a fool,” or “a harlequin.” This sense of patch may come from the Italian pazzo, “fool.”

Grump originated around 1727 and meant “ill-humor,” as part of the phrase, humps and grumps, or “surly remarks.” Then came the grumps, “a fit of ill-humor,” in 1844, and grump meaning “a person in ill humor” in 1900. According to the Online Etymology Dictionary, the word may be “an extended sense of grum ‘morose, surly,'” which is probably related to the Danish grum, “cruel.”

The word codger, referring to an eccentric or grumpy old man, is attested to 1756, and may be an alteration of cadger, “a person who gets a living by begging.” Crank seems to be a back-formation of cranky, which originated around 1807. In addition to “a grouchy person,” crank can also refer to “an eccentric person, especially one who is unduly zealous.”

The word grouch was born in the early 1890s, first referring to the grouchy mood itself, then soon after the grumpy person. The word was U.S. college students’ slang, says the Online Etymology Dictionary, possibly coming from the Middle English grucchen, “to grumble, complain.” A grouch bag is a “purse for carrying hidden money” and possibly the source of the nickname of Groucho Marx, “who supposedly carried his money in one to poker games.”

Finally, sourpuss is a 20th century grouch word, originating around 1937 as U.S. slang. Puss had been slang for face or mouth since about 1890, coming from the Irish pus, “lip, mouth.”

Still in a bad mood? Check out our list of the day.

[Photo: CC BY 2.0 by whatleydude]

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To Catch Some Thief Words

Fullerton Patrolman Ernest E. Garner with bank robbers, Fullerton, 1927

Fullerton Patrolman Ernest E. Garner with bank robbers, Fullerton, 1927

A recent New Yorker piece, A Pickpocket’s Tale, gives a fascinating portrait of Apollo Robbins, an expert in “theatrical pickpocketing.” The article is also chock-full of equaling fascinating pickpocket lingo, such as skinning the poke (“removing the cash from a stolen wallet and wiping it off before tossing it”), kissing the dog (“the mistake of letting a victim see your face”), and working single o (working without a pickpocket crew).

After reading the article, we were so obsessed inspired, we decided to take a closer look at even more thief words. Here are our favorites.

Adam Tiler

“Why, an autem diver is a pickpocket who practises in a church, and an Adam tiler his associate, who receives his booty, and runs off with it.”

Tales of My Father, and My Friends, 1823

An Adam Tiler is “a pickpocket’s accomplice, who takes the stolen goods and leaves with them.” According to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), the term originated in the 1660s and comes from Adam, “the name of the first man,” and tiler, slang for “pickpocket.”

busk

“We would all have 36 hours to blag, beg and busk our way around the globe.”

“Taking liberties: a jailbreak to San Diego,” The Guardian, April 15, 2011

Busk meaning “to earn a livelihood by going about singing, playing, and selling ballads” may come from another meaning of the word, “to cruise as a pirate.” The word itself may come from the obsolete French busquer, “to prowl.”

ferret

“McCain employs a staffer known as the ‘ferret’ to find and expose pork-barrel provisions tucked away in major legislation.”

Evan Thomas, “Senator Hothead,” Newsweek, February 20, 2000

The word ferret has multiple meanings, the earliest of which is “a weasellike, usually albino mammal (Mustela putorius furo) related to the polecat and often trained to hunt rats or rabbits.” The word comes from the Vulgar Latin fūrittus, diminutive of Latin fūr, “thief.”

Ferret took on a figurative meaning around 1600, according to the OED, “to hunt after; to worry,” with the earliest recorded usage in Shakespeare’s Henry V: ” Ile Fer him, and ferit him, and ferke him.“ Ferret also means “to drive out, as from a hiding place”; “to uncover and bring to light by searching”; or “to search intensively.”

furuncle

“The word carbuncle, in Latin means live coal, and in Greek, anthrax signifies the same thing. While furuncle in Latin stands for thief or knave, pathologically it is synonymous with the term boil, which is too well known to require a definition.”

The Medical Summary, March 1915

Furuncle, “a circumscribed inflammation of the skin, forming a necrotic central core, and suppurating and discharging the core; a boil,” comes from the Latin fūrunculus, “knob on a vine that ‘steals’ the sap. Fūrunculus is diminutive of fūr, “thief.”

grift

“Like junkies, they’re hooked on the grift–it gives them an almost sexual rush–but they keep telling themselves they can pull out whenever they want and go straight.”

David Ansen, “Con-Artist Classic,” Newsweek, February 3, 1997

Grift refers to “money made dishonestly, as in a swindle”; “a swindle or confidence game”; or “to engage in swindling or cheating.” The word originated around 1906, according to the Online Etymology Dictionary, and may be a corruption of graft, “dishonest gain acquired by private or secret practices or corrupt agreement or connivance,” or “a business, process, place of concourse, or office, in or at which dishonest gain, by corruption or direct thieving, may be acquired.”

gun moll

“‘A dip—pickpocket—and his girl, or gun-moll, as they call them,’ translated Kennedy. ‘One of their number has evidently been picked up by a detective and he looks to them for a good lawyer, or mouth-piece.’”

Arthur B. Reever, The Dream Doctor, 1914

A gun moll is “the girlfriend of a gangster.” Gun here doesn’t refer to the weapon but is from gonif, slang for “thief.” Gonif is Yiddish in origin, coming from the Hebrew gannabh, “thief.” Moll comes from the “nickname of Mary, used of disreputable females since early 1600s.”

keister

“President Reagan has apologized to a freshman congressman for using the word ‘keister‘ to describe the human posterior.”

“President apologizes for ‘keister,'” The Pittsburgh Press, September 13, 1983

Keister became slang for “buttocks” in the 1930s, says the OED. The earliest meaning of the word is “suitcase, satchel” (1882), and in 1913 came to mean “a strong-box in a safe.” The Online Etymology Dictionary says that the word may come from the “British dialect kist (northern form of chest) or its German cognate Kiste ‘chest, box,” and the connection to “buttocks” may be via the “pickpocket slang sense of ‘rear trouser pocket’ (1930s).”

prat

“Topping a poke: If the wallet is hidden in a rear pocket, the pickpocket pushes it up from the bottom of the prat until it is visible, then either ‘pinches,’ ‘forks,’ or ‘spears’ it.”

“Know How They Do It So You’re Not ‘Dipped,‘” The News and Courier, September 7, 1987

Prat is another word for “buttocks,” originating in the 1560s as criminal slang. Around 1914 the word entered U.S. criminal slang as “hip pocket,” and around 1968, in British slang as “contemptible person.”

Prat-digging is “the action of stealing for a hip pocket,” says the OED.

smart aleck

“This reminds us of the time a smart-aleck friend told us the word ‘gullible’ wasn’t in the dictionary.”

James Taranto, “Blago-What? Never Heard of Him,” The Wall Street Journal, December 10, 2008

Smart aleck (which is sometimes hyphenated) refers to “a person regarded as obnoxiously self-assertive,” or “an impudent person.” The word may come from Aleck Hoag, a “19th-century American confidence man and thief.”

According to Wordorigins, “Hoag and his wife Melinda operated several confidence games where Melinda would pose as a prostitute and Aleck would rob the johns of their valuables.” Hoag would then pay off police to escape arrest.

velociraptor

“At about this time last year I wrote a column on Mike Novacek, whom I believed was the American Museum of Natural History’s chief dinosaur hunter, expert, velociraptor whisperer—whatever the term of art is for the big buana, the institution’s primo paleontologist.”

Ralph Gardner Jr., “The Coolest Dude Alive,” The Wall Street Journal, June 28, 2011

A velociraptor is “a small active carnivore that probably fed on protoceratops; possibly related more closely to birds than to other dinosaurs.” The word originated around 1924, says the Online Etymology Dictionary, and comes from the Latin velox, “swift,” plus raptor, “robber.”

The oviraptor, another type of dinosaur, comes from the Latin for “egg thief,” due to “the fact that the first fossil specimen was discovered atop a pile of what were thought to be Protoceratops eggs.” However, it was found that “the eggs in question probably belonged to Oviraptor itself, and that the specimen was actually brooding its eggs.”

Can’t get enough? Check out our post on Breaking Bad words, Drugs, Thieves, and Special Sauce, and these lists: A Swell Mob, A Whiz Mob, and The Grifters.

[Photo: CC BY 2.0 by Orange County Archives]

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The Name Game: Tate Linden and Stokefire

“Let me be clear; this is going to suck.”

Those are usually the first words out of the mouth of today’s interviewee, Tate Linden, the latest in our series on the art of naming, when he discusses what working with his firm is like. He’s been heading up Stokefire, a strategic branding and advertising firm in Old Town Alexandria, Virginia, since 2005. All things considered, he seems to be doing pretty well.

In an industry where fun times, team building, and corporate retreats are the norm, Linden’s approach to developing names and brands tends to raise eyebrows and voices. With an education in philosophy and classical music performance from UCLA and a background in Fortune 500 product management, you might think he’d be mild mannered.

He is not.

He’s constantly poking, prodding, and provoking. A quick scan of his @Thingnamer twitter feed or Stokefire’s blog makes this abundantly clear. He’s not afraid to stir things up or to call into question the very foundation of the industry in which he makes his living.

His Twitter bio reads, “I brand stuff. With… My… MIND.” But we’re hoping he’s not quite so succinct in our interview.

How did you get started in the naming business?

The official version of the story has me figuring out how to brand stuff while employed for a decade by various Fortune 500 firms, and then parting ways to start up my own firm to specialize in it. Unofficially, the things that made me great at branding also made me intolerable as an employee of a conglomerate.

Around 2002 I left and began freelancing, then started up Stokefire in 2005 to focus almost exclusively on the verbal aspects of branding. Today we’re no longer a pure naming agency, but we do take on projects that have naming as one component of the larger brand.

What types of customers and clients do you work with?

Early on a pulse and a bank account were the only qualifiers, and the pulse was just a ‘nice-to-have.’ Now we have a bit more leeway to engage in projects that present the most interesting and unique challenges.

I look for great organizations that may be struggling to better connect with or have an impact on their audiences. We’ve worked with organizations like Google, Motorola, Charles Schwab, Heinz, and the largest caucus of the United States Congress. A couple of the most intriguing projects we’ve taken on have been the branding and advertising of concrete in North America, and a complete overhaul of the US Department of Defense’s DARPA brand.

Oh. And there’s also a living online dictionary whose leader called us a few years ago and asked us to help her team figure out a name. The result of that project was something your readers may know: Wordnik.

How would you describe your naming process?

Pretty easily. “Painful” or “cathartic” both fit well. And I’m not stretching the truth. We put an immense amount of pressure on the name and the people and products that will be defined by it. We do this in order to ensure everything works effectively together and will stand up to the potential real world pressures to come. In my view a fun naming process is one that is likely to result in a name that serves a client well only until something goes wrong. As Mike Tyson said, “Everybody has a plan until they get punched in the face.” A client is better served by experiencing those blows in private and learning to respond to them than they are by the experience of being TKO’d in public.

Process? We’ve got all sorts of proprietary tools, worksheets, and tables, but so does every branding and naming pro out there. Our stages are roughly in line with what you’d see anywhere else. It’s the guiding philosophies and the way that we apply them to what we do that makes us different and potentially more effective.

As for those philosophies, the one I reference most frequently is based on a quote attributed to Gandhi. He said, “Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.” Ultimately Gandhi’s concept of happiness is the framework for all of the brands we craft. It’s not about slathering on a new coat of paint that will begin flake off the moment our team leaves. We strip organizations to the bare wood and help them display what makes them genuinely strong. When we leave there’s no questions from panicked leaders asking how to respond to something because what we’ve left them with is who they genuinely are rather than what Stokefire or their target audience wants them to be.

What are some resources that you use?

When naming, the books I pull down more than any others are my crossword dictionaries. They present words as answers to the questions a strategist might ask rather than as definitions we might not know to look for. Strangely, I’ve not migrated to the web for this resource, though I’m sure there’s something equivalent available.

When I do go online I have a few sites that draw me back time and again. There are some good reverse-lookup dictionaries, and there’s Wordnik’s ability to show how a term is currently being used, and to link to various kinds of related concepts. It’s a site I hit consistently with every project.

My best resource, though, is the network of creative professionals I’ve had the good fortune to work with over the years. Knowing that I can turn to someone like copywriter and naming pro Nancy Friedman when I need perspective or have a project that isn’t in my specialty area is invaluable. Back in the day I even relied on Wordnik’s own Erin McKean to share her lexicographical chops and entice a client to take the right path.

Living resources trump static resources almost every time, and you don’t get much more living than a person. Well, unless they’re dead.

What are some mistakes you’ve seen companies make in terms of naming?

Contrary to what I read in blog chatter and in the news, I think risk avoidance causes more problems than anything else. The number of brands that fail for lack of risk far exceeds the occasional Icarus-like ones that fail for too much of it.

The next time someone tells you that they can’t accept a name with risk, consider asking them if pouring money into a brand that no one notices and no one cares about is more or less risky than investing in one that just might have a shot.

What are some trends you’d sooner see die off?

All of them.

Back in early 2007 I spent about a week analyzing the impact of naming trends on the success of organizations. At that time the trends mostly involved prefixes like the e in eBusiness and the then revolutionary concept of personalization through the use of I, My, or You, as in iPod or YouTube.

My findings suggested that names that followed trends had only a 4% chance of being attached to a successful organization while those that avoided any identifiable trend had a success rate more than 250% higher. I knew copycat naming was a bad idea on principle, but I’d had no idea it was so strongly linked to organizational success.

I’m not suggesting that the trends themselves are causing companies to fail. I think that any organizational leadership that believes following a naming trend would be more effective than discovering a genuine way to express itself has larger problems. A copycat name is like a warning beacon to clients and investors that the organizational leadership views their product as a commodity, takes shortcuts, lacks strategic vision, and isn’t comfortable in their own skin.

Other than that, though, it’s no big deal.

Any last words?

Just that I’m honored to be included with the likes of Nancy Friedman, Anthony Shore, and the : : CRONAN : : crew; a talented group by any measure.

Also. It was mostly pain free. So, thanks Wordnik!

After our interview but before publication we learned that Michael Cronan passed away and reached out to Tate for comment.

I met Michael very briefly around 2006 and recall being awed by how his work and thinking consistently avoided trends, and even started them on more than one occasion. His passing this New Year’s Day was a blow to the identity industry, and indescribably difficult for the friends, family and peers that battled cancer alongside him for the past five years.

If Gandhi was right and happiness truly is “when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony,” then from my vantage point, even considering his more recent health battle, Michael looks to have led a wonderfully happy life.

To my way of thinking there’s no higher praise a man can earn.

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Words for the Apocalypse Now (Or Later)

Apocalypse?

Apocalypse? by mikelehen

The world probably won’t end tomorrow (if you don’t believe us, ask NASA), but that doesn’t mean you can’t learn about 10 apocalyptic words and their origins.

Armageddon

“White House budget director Jacob Lew used the word ‘Armageddon’ three times on Sunday talk shows, saying a default could lead to a financial crisis that would send interest rates rising and drive up the cost of credit for all Americans.”

Janet Hook and Damian Paletta, “Senate Debt Plan Promises Months of Budget Wrangling,” The Wall Street Journal, July 18, 2011

Armageddon is, in the Bible, “the scene of a final battle between the forces of good and evil, prophesied to occur at the end of the world,” and by that extension, “a decisive or catastrophic conflict.”

The word comes from the Hebrew Har Megiddon, “Mount of Megiddo,” a “city in central Palestine” and a “site of important Israeli battles.”

bitter end

“But she insists that she will fight to the bitter end, which is an end easily foreseen.”

“To the Bitter End,” The New York Times, May 4, 1898

The bitter end refers to “a final, painful, or disastrous extremity.” However, the original meaning of the phrase is nautical, “the inboard end of a chain, rope, or cable, especially the end of a rope or cable that is wound around a bitt.” A bitt is “a strong post of wood or iron to which cables are made fast,” and is related to the Old Norse biti, “crossbeam.”

Bitter, meaning “unpalatable; hard to swallow, literally or figuratively,” comes from the Old English biter, “bitter, sharp, cutting; angry, embittered; cruel.” Bitter end is perhaps a play on this sense of bitter.

doomsday

“Saturday was the start of their doomsday period and they expected dire calamities. When nothing too terrible transpired they were sure that meant merely the worst horrors would come Monday when the sun was swallowed. But out in New Guinea a team of Japanese scientists reported observing the solar blackout for nearly three minutes and nothing unusual resulted.”

“Doomsday Comes, Goes Uneventfully,” The Milwaukee Sentinel, February 5, 1962

Doomsday is “the day of the last judgment,” or “any day of sentence or condemnation.” The word doom comes from the Old English dom, “judgment.” Doomsday machine attests from 1960, says the Online Etymology Dictionary.

eschatology

“Rapture and Rand: What a couple of sexy, compelling twins! They’re the Mary Kate and Ashley of late capitalist eschatology.”

Ellis Weiner, “Rapture and Rand: Two Peas in a Pod,” The Huffington Post, May 6, 2011

Eschatology is “the doctrine of the last or of final things; that branch of theology which treats of the end of the world and man’s condition or state after death.”

Eschatology comes from the Greek word for “last,” eskhatos, which also gives us eschaton, “day at the end of time following Armageddon when God will decree the fates of all individual humans according to the good and evil of their earthly lives.”

Fimbulwinter

“The forewarning of the end of the world was to be the great winter, three years in duration, which the Eddas call Fimbulwinter. ‘Every man’s hand shall be turned against his brother, and sisters’ children shall their kinship rend asunder; no man shall another spare.'”

Charles Francis Keary, Outlines of Primitive Belief Among the Indo-European Races, 1882

Fimbulwinter is, in Norse mythology, “one of the signs of the onset of the end of this world” which marks “marks the coming of the Ragnarok, the battle that will end the world.”

Fimbulwinter was also a black metal band that “was part of the early Norwegian black metal scene.” The band formed in 1992 and split in 1994.

The word Fimbulwinter translates from Old Norse as “mighty or great winter.”

Götterdämmerung

“What the world is witnessing in France these summer days it the unfolding of a Gaullist Gotterdammerung. It is no longer possible to take President de Gaulle or his regime seriously.”

Allan Harvey, “Gotterdammerung Plays Paris,” The Sun, August 5, 1967

Götterdämmerung is, in German mythology, “a myth about the ultimate destruction of the gods in a battle with evil,” and figuratively, “any cataclysmic downfall or momentous, apocalyptic event, especially of a regime or an institution.”

The word translates from the German as “twilight of the gods,” and was used by German composer Richard Wagner “as the title of the last opera in the Ring cycle.”

prepper

“Mr Izzo is a ‘prepper’, one of a growing number of Americans who are preparing their homes and families to survive a major disaster they believe could arrive at any time.”

Madeleine Morris, “Americans Get Set for Disaster Day,” BBC News, March 26, 2010

A prepper is “a person who goes to great lengths to prepare for a natural or man-made disaster.” The earliest citation is from 1999, says Word Spy.

Prepper is also British slang for a prep school student. Preppy refers to “a person whose manner and dress are deemed typical of traditional preparatory schools.” The word originated in the early 1960s, says the Online Etymology Dictionary.

Ragnarok

“The gods themselves looked forward to a time of defeat and death, when Asgard should perish in flames and the world with it, and the sun and moon should be darkened, and they themselves should be slain. This great day was called Ragnarok, or sometimes the Twilight of the Gods.”

William Morris, The Story of Sigurd the Volsung, 1922

Ragnarok is, in Norse mythology, “the final battle between gods and giants, involving all creation, which brings the end of the world as it is known and almost all life.” The word comes from the Old Norse ragna, “the gods,” and either rök, “destined end,” or rökr, “twilight.”

rapture

“There will be a resurrection followed by the millennium, 1,000 years of earthly paradise with Jesus ruling the world from Jerusalem. And just before the tribulation breaks out, there will be a ‘rapture’–the true believers will be snatched up to a position halfway between heaven and earth, where they will ride out the seven bad years.”

Robert McClory, “The Gospel According to Thomas Sheehan,” The Chicago Reader, April 20, 1989

The word rapture has multiple meanings, including “the state of being transported by a lofty emotion; ecstasy”; “an expression of ecstatic feeling”; “the transporting of a person from one place to another, especially to heaven.”

In the sense of “the transport of believers to heaven at the Second Coming of Christ,” rapture is short for rapture of the Church, according to the Oxford English Dictionary.

Rapture comes from the Latin rapere, “seize, carry off,”

survivalist

“Since August 1945, hundreds of ‘nuclear’ movies have appeared. At least one American ‘nuclear’ film was a work of genius (Dr. Strangelove). . . .But more often the fear of nuclear war in Hollywood spawned survivalist fantasies, irradiated-monster films and post-apocalypse thrillers.”

Greg Mitchell, “How Harry Truman Edited the First Hollywood Film About the Atomic Bomb,” The Huffington Post, August 4, 2010

A survivalist is “one who has personal or group survival as a primary goal in the face of difficulty, opposition, and especially the threat of natural catastrophe, nuclear war, or societal collapse.” This sense of the word originated in the mid 1980s.

[Photo: CC BY 2.0 by mikelehen]

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Giving Words: Gifts, Tips, and Bribes

Day 134

Photo by pasukaru76

It’s that time of year when we’re all running around getting last minute gifts for our loved ones, not-so-loved ones, co-workers, the mailman, the dog walker, the babysitter, and – exhausted yet?

Take a break and have some fun with 10 of our favorite words about gifts, tips, and bribes.

amatorio

“According to its decoration, this ‘ongaresca,’ or plate on a foot, represents what was known as an ‘amatorio,’ love gift. The hands clasped over flame indicate an acceptance and betrothal. Above the hands is a heart pierced with an arrow.”

Bulletin of the Art Institute of Chicago, January 1916

An amatorio is “a decorated vase, dish, bowl, or plate, intended or suitable for a love-gift.” The word comes from the Latin amare, “to love.”

The Ars armatoria, or The Art of Love, are a series of instructional books by Ovid, an ancient Roman poet. The books teach basic “male and female relationship skills and techniques.”

baksheesh

“The two boys were sent away happy, with a generous baksheesh or present, and the next day Kitty’s father sought out the kind-hearted jewel merchant and bought many a gem from his choice collection.”

St. Nicholas Magazine for Boys and Girls, V. 5, April 1878

A baksheesh is “a gratuity, tip, or bribe paid to expedite service, especially in some Near Eastern countries.” The word came into English in the 17th century, according to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), and comes from the Persian word for “present.” Also bakshish.

cumshaw

“This the mafoo does with great pleasure, as, apart from the keen interest he takes in racing. . .it is an understood thing that he will receive a good cumshaw from his master for each race that his stable wins.”

Oliver G. Ready, Life and Sport in China, 1904

A cumshaw is “a present of any kind.” The word comes from Amoy, a Chinese Hokkien dialect now known as the Xiamen dialect. Cumshaw entered English in the 19th century, says the OED, and is an alteration of kam-sia, “a phrase of thanks by beggars.”

douceur

“A friend of mine, on leaving an hotel at Niagara, offered a douceur in the shape of half a dollar to one of [these chambermaids], but she drew herself up, and proudly replied, ‘American ladies do not receive money from gentlemen.’”

Isabella Bird, The Englishwoman in America, 1856

The word douceur can refer to “sweetness or mildness of manner”; “a kind or agreeable remark; a compliment”; or “a conciliatory offering; a present or gift; a reward; a bribe.”

According to the OED, douceur also refers to “a U.K. tax benefit given as an inducement to a person to sell something of historical value (esp. a work of art) by private treaty to a public collection in the U.K., rather than on the open market.” This sense originated around 1979.

Douceur comes from the Latin dulcis, “sweet,” which also gives us dulcet, “pleasing to the ear.”

étrenne

“I arrived here not long before 1st of January, and, on the morning of that day, a gentle tap at door of the room in which I was drew my attention, and when I desired the person who knocked to walk in, I was surprised by an unexpected visit from the young and pretty daughter of my landlord. . .of which, avec toute la grace francoise, she requested my acceptance as étrenne or New Year’s Gift.”

The European Magazine and London Review, July to December 1823

An étrenne is “a present; properly, a New-Year’s present.” The word is French and ultimately comes from the Latin strena, “favorable omen.”

handsel

“The first Monday of the New-Year has been long known in Scotland, more especially the northern half of the Lowlands, as Hansel-Monday, from the custom among people of the working class of asking or receiving gifts or handsel from their well-to-do neighbors, and from each other, on that day.”

“Auld Hansel-Monday,” Bruce Herald, March 28, 1890

The word handsel can refer to “a gift or token of good fortune or good will; especially, a New-Year’s gift,” as well as “a sale, gift, or delivery which is regarded as the first of a series,” such as “the first money taken in the morning in the way of trade; the first earnings of any one in a new employment or place of business; the first money taken in a shop newly opened; the first present sent to a young woman on her wedding-day, etc.”

The word ultimately comes from the Old Norse handsal, “legal transfer,” where hand means “hand” and sal, “a giving.”

handy-dandy

“It is clear that handy-dandy in this passage means a covert bribe or present, as, for instance, a bag conveyed to the judge’s hand which he was to open at leisure when he would find the contents satisfactory.”

William Langland, The Vision of William Concerning Piers Plowman, 1885

While handy-dandy is another way of saying “handy” or “useful,” an older meaning refers to “a bribe paid secretly,” as well as “a play of children in which something, as a pebble or a coin, is shaken between the hands of one, while another guesses which hand it is retained in.”

The Century Dictionary implies that the bribe sense comes from the children’s game. However, the OED cites a much earlier reference of the bribe meaning, the 14th century, while the first record of the game meaning is from the 16th century.

lagniappe

“We picked up one excellent word – a word worth traveling to New Orleans to get; a nice limber, expressive, handy word — ‘lagniappe.’ They pronounce it lanny-yap. . . .It is the equivalent of the thirteenth roll in a ‘baker’s dozen.’ It is something thrown in, gratis, for good measure.”

Mark Twain, Life on the Mississippi, 1906

A lagniappe is a chiefly Southern Louisiana and Mississippi word that means “a small gift presented by a storeowner to a customer with the customer’s purchase,” or “an extra or unexpected gift or benefit.”

The word is Louisiana French, coming from the American Spanish la ñapa, “the gift,” which may come from the Quechua yapay, “to give more.”  The word attests to 1849, according to the Online Etymology Dictionary.

largess

“The deserted farmsteads no longer echo with the sounds of rural revelry; the cheerful log-fires no longer glow in the farmer’s kitchen; the harvest-home song has died away; and ‘largess’ no longer rewards the mummers and the morris-dancers.”

P.H. Ditchfield, Vanishing England, 1910

Largess is “liberality; generosity,” or “a liberal gift or donation; a present; a bounty bestowed.” The OED says that largess! is “a call for a gift of money, addressed to a person of relatively high position on some special occasion.” The word ultimately comes from the Latin largus, “abundant.” Also largesse.

pourboire

“After that, we came back to the Barriere de l’Etoile, where she gave me a good ‘pourboire‘ and got into a hackney coach, telling me to take the travelling carriage back to the man who lets such carriages in the Cour des Coches, Faubourg Saint-Honore.”

Honore De Balzac, The Lesser Bourgeoisie (The Middle Classes)

Pourboire is “money given as a gratuity; a tip,” and translates literally from the French as “for drinking.” The word came into English around 1788, according to the OED.

prezzie

“Giving VDay gifts to us is super easy. We like cool stuff. The Chumby you got us for our desk at work is the perfect Valentine’s Day prezzie.”

Adam Sachs, “An Open Letter to the Ladies on Valentine’s Day. . .From Some Dudes,” The Huffington Post, February 12, 2009

We promised 10 words but here’s an extra, a lexical lagniappe. Prezzie, a shortened form of present, is an alteration of the British English slang word, pressie. According to the OED, pressie originated in the 1930s. An earlier alteration is prez, which in American English now more commonly refers to a president. “Accept my little pres.” James Joyce, Ulysses.

[Photo: CC BY 2.0 by pasukaru76]