Some Lessons Are Never Learned

Can’t wait to see how badly this goes wrong.

The couch she’s talking about is the pink one that didn’t come with the hardware to attach the legs.
 
I can’t even.

Language Of Confusion: Fabricated, Redux

Yep, going back to the redos. This is another where the quality isn’t up to my current standards. And it’s a nice little breather before we get back into another series!
 
Fabric showed up in the late fifteenth century meaning… a building. Yes, really. Then in the early seventeenth century it meant a structure of any kind, then something made. Then in the eighteenth century, it went from meaning a manufactured material to a textile in particular. Weird journey, right?
 
It comes from the Old French fabrique, from the classical Latin fabricare, to fabricate. That’s from faber, which means an architect or someone else who builds something out of hard materials, and it can be traced to the Proto Italic fafro-, from the Proto Indo European dhabh-, which has something to do with crafting. Obviously fabricate is from the same place, having shown up in the mid fifteenth century (so, earlier than fabric). It comes from the classical Latin fabricates, to build or create, and that’s of course from fabricare. These days, fabricate isn’t used a lot in its literal sense. We mostly just use it as a synonym for lie, which actually started being used in 1779.
 
Now, that’s the original words I went over, but there’s actually more to look at that I never added to the last one. Might as well do it now. The word forge actually comes from the same place as fabric. It showed up in the early fourteenth century as a verb meaning to counterfeit, not meaning to forge metal until the late fourteenth century, and that probably came around because people would forge coins—like, real money, not fake money. It didn’t mean making fake money until after. Confusing, right? Anyway! Forge comes from the Old French forgier, which comes from the classical Latin fabricari, to create or construct, and that’s obviously related to fabric.
 
So that’s why forgery means what it does. Fabric has quite a history, doesn’t it?
 
Sources
Online Etymology Dictionary
Google Translate
Omniglot
University of Texas at Austin Linguistic Research Center
University of Texas at San Antonio’s page on Proto Indo European language
Indo-European and Uralic Languages

From The Spamfiles

Spam, yo.

Spammer, you don’t want to know what I truly think of you. It will blight your soul.

Are those emojis stars on a circle? I’ve never seen that one before. How do I get it on my phone?

The accent mark over the u makes it so classy.

They found my soul mate and it’s a spammer. Sounds about right.

I can believe that Amazon would enact its own laws. I really doubt any actual governing authority would try to stop them.

Guys. I’m the chosen one.
 
I knew it.

Ad Blocker

I’ve been pushed to my limit.

I actually try not to use ad blocker because it takes revenue from the indie sites I frequent (no ad views = no money for them), but when it gets to the point where they’re having two videos playing that can’t be closed when I’m trying to read a damn comic, I’m turning ad blocker back on.

Language Of Confusion: Pere-, Part IV

Here we go! Last one! And I’ve saved the weirdest ones for last, lucky you. We’re looking at words that come from the Proto Indo European pere-, which means to produce or procure, and while the words it’s spawned have made sense—somewhat—that doesn’t mean they aren’t weird.

 
First today, poor. Yep. That poor. It showed up in the thirteenth century with pretty much the same definition, coming from the Old French povre, poor. And that V being in there makes a lot more sense when you find out that poverty is from the same place, having shown up even earlier in the late twelfth century. Both words are from the classical Latin pauper, which, I mean, we have that in English, too, though it didn’t appear until the early sixteenth century. So how is it related to pere-? Well, the first half of the word, pau-, comes from the Proto Indo European pau-, which means few or little. The -per comes from pere-. Poor is to procure too little.
 
Surprising, yes, but believable. Sever, on the other hand… Really. Sever and several are from pere-. Sever showed up in the fourteenth century while several didn’t show up until the early fifteenth century, where it actually meant existing apart before morphing to more than one a century later. Sever comes from the Anglo French severer and Old French sevrer, to separate, from the Vulgar Latin seperare, which is from the classical Latin separare, to separate. Several comes from the Anglo French several, from the Old French seperalis, which can also be traced to separare. We’ve actually talked about the parare part before, and it means to prepare, and the se- means apart. To prepare apart is to sever, and somehow that’s also several.
 
Next, spar. Yes, like fighting. Remember how we talked about parry being from pere-? Of course you do. And spar is the same. I mean, kind of. It showed up in the late fourteenth century, meaning to rush or dart, and that’s thought to be from the French esparer, to kick, and Italian sparare, to shoot or scatter. That’s a mix of the prefix ex-, out, and our old friend parare. Basically to “prepare out” became to fling, and that somehow got to spar.
 
Finally… viper. Yes, like the snake. Have I done this word before? Maybe. Whatever. It showed up in the early fifteenth century from the Old French vipere, from the classical Latin vipera, viper. The vi- comes from the Proto Indo European gwei-, to live (because most vipers give birth to live young rather than lay eggs). The per- part of the word comes from parire, which as I’ve mentioned previous weeks means to be fertile, and it means that because it’s from pere- and to produce can also mean to produce children. So that and a quirk of this particular reptile’s biology is why we call them vipers.

 
Sources
Online Etymology Dictionary
Google Translate
Omniglot
University of Texas at Austin Linguistic Research Center
University of Texas at San Antonio’s page on Proto Indo European language
Encyclopaedia Britannica
Fordham University

From The Spamfiles

Ah, spam. Nothing to worry about here, except maybe a computer virus.

It’s actually really easy to make money in gold. All you have to do is tell people to send you money for telling them how to make money in gold.

…No. Do… do people actually want to watch other people oh my god they do, the world is nothing but a depraved nightmare.

Is it a warning that I subscribed to their newsletter list or is it a newsletter list about warnings? And if it is about warnings, what kind of warnings???

I’m going with Sarah. She seems less desperate.

I have so many questions. The first of which is why I’m getting this now, nowhere near October, and the second is why anyone anywhere EVER would want zombie porn.

This… seems disturbingly and weirdly sexual for bitcoin.

It’s Whisper Quiet

It still dries clothes. It just needs some new parts that aren’t in yet.

I mean, obviously.

Language Of Confusion: Pere-ing Down, Part III

Time for some more about the Proto Indo European pere-, which means to produce or procure. You should know that by now. I mean, I assume you’re all taking notes.
 
First, we’re going to look at parent. It showed up in the early fifteenth century (it was actually a last name in the late twelfth century!), where it didn’t just mean a mother or father, but also an ancestor. It comes from the Old French parent and classical Latin parentem, which is parent, big surprise. It’s actually from the verb parire, which I actually mentioned last week as being the origin of repertory, so make of that what you will. It means to produce or be fertile and is from pere-, so you can see how you can get parent from that. It makes more sense than repertory, anyway.
 
Next, repair. It showed up in the mid fourteenth century from the Old French reparer, to repair. That’s from the classical Latin reparare, to repair or restore, a mix of re-, which also means again here, and parare, to prepare. To repair something is to prepare it again.
 
Rampart showed up sometime in the late sixteenth century from the French rempart, from the verb remparer, to fortify. It’s a mix of re-, again and emparer, to take or to fortify, though I can’t see the reason for take to become fortify. Whatever. It’s from the Old Provençal amparer, from the Vulgar Latin anteparare, to prepare. Ante means before and, well, parare. To prepare before. That makes more sense for fortify than to take.
 
Sensible, right? Prepare for that to stop. Next we’re looking at parade. It showed up in the mid seventeenth century from either the French parade, Italian parate or Spanish parade—and that one actually means stop of all things. All three of those words are from the Vulgar Latin parata, which is from the classical Latin parare, which I mentioned last week and the week before as meaning to prepare. Apparently to prepare changed into to stop, which changed into to prevent or guard against, which changed into to dress or adorn. And that’s why we have parade. Somehow.
 
Sources
Online Etymology Dictionary
Google Translate
Omniglot
University of Texas at Austin Linguistic Research Center
University of Texas at San Antonio’s page on Proto Indo European language
Encyclopaedia Britannica
Indiana University Bloomington

From The Spamfiles

Yay, spam! It’s so much easier to deal with than real life.

The “Do I fit your tastes?” combined with the “Last seen 10 minutes ago” makes it seem like somebody thinks I’m a serial killer, which is not true, I’m not a serial killer.

She’s not Nancy, she’s “Nancy”. She’s only Nancy ironically.

This one… seems kind of unique. It wants to give me homework help, but in the preview line it says, ahem, “8 ways to master microwave breakfasts”. Is that a big homework problem people have?

LISTEN VERY INTENTLY TO THIS EMAIL YOU ARE READING TO YOURSELF. ALSO OUR CAPS LOCK KEY IS STUCK.
 

The cancer widows are back! I was getting worried that they all died.

I can one hundred percent guarantee that no, I have not ever thought of us as a couple.
 
This is Bat Fastard signing off.

Shipping

I really hate that there’s no longer a decent craft store around here.

That price is totally accurate. Four times the cost was spent on shipping! And this was something that could be stuck in a regular envelope!!!

Language Of Confusion: Pere-ing Down, Part II

We’re once again going to be looking at words that are from the Proto Indo European root pere-, which means to produce or procure. Last week you could kind of see it. This week on the other hand…
 
First, the word empire, and of course everything relating to it, like emperor and imperial. It showed up in the mid fourteenth century, coming from the Old French empire and classical Latin imperium, which means government. The verb form of the word is imperare, to rule, a mix of the prefix in-, in, and parare, which as we learned last week means prepare.
 
Next, imperative. It showed up in the mid fifteenth century as a noun and the early sixteenth century as an adjective, from the Late Latin imperativus, pertaining to a command. It’s verb form is none other than imperare, so yes, it’s pretty closely related to empire, even though you probably wouldn’t think of them being related. I guess having an imperative is commanding, though.
 
Disparate showed up in the seventeenth century, coming from the classical Latin disparatus, from the verb disparare, divide or separate. The dis- means apart, and parare… well, you should know by now. Disparate is to prepare apart. No, not really following the logic there. The theory is that it was influenced by a completely unrelated Latin word, dispar, which means unlike. It’s kind of funny that separate is from the same root word. It showed up in the late fourteenth century from the classical Latin separatus, separate, verb form separare, to separate. Se- is a not often used prefix meaning apart, and with parare, this means this word is also to prepare apart. My eyes are rolling back into my head right now.
 
Next, repertory, which of course means repertoire is also related. Repertory showed up in the mid sixteenth century meaning an inventory or list, from the classical Latin repertus, found, and its verb form reperire, to find. The re- is just intensive here, but the perire is from parire, which actually means fertile, of all things. But it is from the PIE pere- also, and being fertile does equal production. It’s just weird that repertory is from a word meaning fertile. I mean, it’s far from the weirdest origin I’ve found, but it’s still strange.
 
Sources
Online Etymology Dictionary
Google Translate
Omniglot
University of Texas at Austin Linguistic Research Center
University of Texas at San Antonio’s page on Proto Indo European language
Orbis Latinus

February Goals

Well, I think we can all agree January was somehow worse than any of us anticipated. This does not bode well for 2021. What was I even supposed to do last month? Because I guarantee you, I didn’t do it.
 
January Goals
1. Finish the book I started writing (or at least get close, depending on how long it ends up).
Hey, I finished it. Yay… I’m trying to be enthusiastic but my stress won’t let me.
 
2. Finish work on more beta notes.
Did not do this. I was way too emotionally exhausted. Kind of disappointed in myself for this one.
 
3. Get my query ready (gulp).
Eh, it’s still a work in progress, but at least I worked on it.
 
Please don’t let January come back.
 
February Goals
1. Do my first pass of notes on the new WIP, and start working on them.
 
2. Do all the adult stuff I need to that’s giving me a constant panic attack.
 
3. Actually get to work on my old WIP notes.
 
Or maybe I’ll just sleep for the entire month. What are you planning to do this February?