Thursday, May 2, 2019

Language of Confusion: Aged


Today happens to be my brother’s birthday. But not just any birthday. His fortieth birthday. And as someone who was constantly teased while I was little, let’s just say I’m enjoying this a lot. So let’s look at things relating to age, shall we?

Age
Age first showed up in the late thirteenth century as a noun, and then in the late fourteenth century as a verb—although initially it only referred to an era of time, before also referring to how old someone was. It comes from the Old French aage/eage/edage, age or lifetime, from the Vulgar Latin aetaticum. That’s from the classical Latin aetatem, age, from aevum, age (like, a slightly different form of age). It can be traced all the way back to the Proto Indo European aiw-, vital force or life.

Old
Old comes from the Old English ald/eald, old. It comes from the Proto Germanic althaz, adult, which is related to the Proto Indo European root al-, meaning grow or nourish. Also related are the words elder and eldest, which once upon a time used to be what we used when we wanted to say older and oldest. There’s also a tree called an elder, but that one isn’t related at all.

Senior
Senior showed up in the late thirteenth century from the classical Latin senior, which just means older. No real surprises in this one. But it is from the word senex (old man) and can be traced to the Proto Indo European sen-, old, which is the origin word for words like sir and senor, which is pretty neat.

Ancient
Lastly today, we’ll look at ancient. It showed up in the late fourteenth century as auncyen, which meant very old people before also meaning very old things. It’s from the Old French ancient, old or ancient, and the Vulgar Latin anteanus. Now, that word is taken from the classical Latin ante, which I’m sure you all recognize and also means before. It’s related to the Proto Indo European ant-, which means front or fore [https://www.etymonline.com/word/*ant-], but I can’t quite see how we derived old from that.

Sources
Tony Jebson’s page on the Origins of Old English

Tuesday, April 30, 2019

From The Spamfiles


Yay, there were five Tuesdays this month. I just love putting off having to look at my failed goals for another week.

I’ve never met someone named Helen in my life and you’re going to tell me that some twenty three year old has that name. She’s probably friends with Betty and Linda.

Client #810-8564. At least they spelled my name right.

If the emojis are any indication, than dating requires lighting people on fire. So I’m already most of the way there.

Honestly, its still a more believable name than Helen.

Not just blinding, ultra-blinding! For when blinding bears just isn’t enough. You have to melt their eyes, too.

And I love you, dcpknalb. Now give me money.

Saturday, April 27, 2019

Lean


Somebody wants attention.
She can’t stand it when I’m looking at something that isn’t her.

Thursday, April 25, 2019

Language of Confusion: Feeling Tired


I must be feeling tired again.

Tire
Tire isn’t only a word for how you feel, it’s also a word that means what you put on a vehicle. And they’re not related. Like, even a little. Vehicle tires actually come from the word attire (boy is that a long story for another post). The other tire, the one where you just want to sleep, is actually harder to pin down. It’s thought to be from the Proto Germanic teuzon, which is from the Proto Indo European deu-, to lack or be wanting. I guess I can see that. To be tired is to lack energy, right?

Exhaust
And now for another word that has multiple very different meanings, although these ones are at least related. Exhaust showed up in the sixteenth century, but it didn’t mean gas waste until the nineteenth century, and back then it referred to steam engines (I’m guessing they didn’t use it that way earlier because they didn’t have engines :P). Originally, exhaust just meant to use up, so I guess an exhaust was a by-product of what was being used up. Anyway, it came from the classical Latin exhaustus, drained, from the verb exhaurire, to drain. The prefix ex- means off and haurire also means drain, generally of water, and is from the Proto Indo European heusio-, to scoop. Basically the word went from literal to metaphorical in two different ways.

Weary
Weary comes from the Old English werig, tired, and it’s from the Proto Germanic worigaz, but after that it’s unknown. But what about the word wear, like one would wear out something? Ha ha. No. Not even a little. That’s right, to wear something out has nothing to do with being weary. It actually has to do with clothes. Clothes—or wear—are gradually damaged over time. They wear out. And that’s where we get that from.

Fatigue
Okay, let’s see what wild ride this one takes us on. Fatigue showed up in the mid seventeenth century  from the French fatigue, which just means tired. It comes from the classical Latin fatigare, to exhaust, which is related to the Old Latin fatis, and before that we don’t know. As to why fatigues means a military uniform, well, when it first started being used in a military sense, it actually meant extra duties of a soldier, and I’m guessing that the extra duties were supposed to wear you out. That gave way to uniforms being called fatigue dress in the nineteenth century, and that’s why we have fatigues.

Wow. This one was weird.

Sources
Tony Jebson’s page on the Origins of Old English

Tuesday, April 23, 2019

From The Spamfiles


I have to say, I’m loving not having to come up with actual ideas for posts.

Well, this seems vaguely threatening.

Goddamn it, Greg is still getting spam. They say they “matched” my email address to Greg. I want to know how!

Okay, meeting a random stranger online for a secret date is how you lose organs.

The emojis there seem to have cat ears. Am I online dating cats?

And this one’s asking if I like their new hat and I have to ask, who the hell wears hats anymore? Maybe baseball hats, but I still don’t see that all that much.

…Ever look at something and wonder what the audience for it is, then realize that there has to be one otherwise they wouldn’t be sending out stuff like this? Because I’m definitely having one of those moments.

Saturday, April 20, 2019

Thursday, April 18, 2019

Language of Confusion: Get


Usually the simplest words have the stupidest origins.

Get showed up in the thirteenth century, coming to us from the Old Norse geta, where it basically meant the same thing as what we use it for. It’s from the Proto Germanic getan and the Proto Indo European root ghend-, to seize or take. Interestingly enough, in Old English get was almost only used in parts of words—you know, like in forget. But the Old English word for get, gietan, is not where the Modern English get arrives (like I said, it’s from Old Norse). They do however happen to have the same root.

Now, I already mentioned forget, so let’s get into it. Unlike get, its origin is in Old English, where the word is forgietan, which is just forget. The for- is thought to mean a kind of negation, so it’s something like losing or being taken away or the opposite. Basically, the opposite of getting is forgetting.

And there’s one other word related to get: beget. Not that we ever use it much. It’s from the Old English begietan, and means something like acquire or obtain, but involving some effort, and it wasn’t until the thirteenth century that it had anything to do with reproduction. Misbegotten (which I think is probably used more these days than beget) is actually derived from beget. It showed up in the sixteenth century from misbeget, which was a word at one point even if it’s not now. And when it did first show up, it meant bastard, illegitimate (presumably referring to offspring), or unlawfully obtained (presumably not).

TL;DR: Forget isn’t from get, but they are both from the same word, so my opening comment was right.

Sources
Tony Jebson’s page on the Origins of Old English