Language Of Confusion: Armed, Part V

The final part on words descended from the Proto Indo European ar-, to fit together. Now I’m going to have to come up with something new.
 
The first is arthropod—yes, like an insect, spider, or crustacean (one of the reasons I won’t eat them). The word showed up in 1862, though the phylum name Arthropoda showed up in 1849. That’s taken straight from the classical Latin, which literally means those with joined feet. The -poda part means foot and is from the Proto Indo European ped-, while the arthro- is from the Greek, a joint, and that’s from ar-. So because many feet are joined together, we have arthropod.
 
Next somehow is aristocracy, which showed up in the mid sixteenth century from the French aristocracie. That’s from the Late Latin aristocratia, which is from the Greek aristokratia, which just means aristocracy. -Cracy means rule or government, from the Greek Kartos, strength, while aristo- is from aristros, optimal or best. And aristos just happens to be from ar-, though I don’t quite get how best/optimal comes from to fit together.
 
Then there’s alarm, which showed up in the late fourteenth century meaning a call to arms, which then transformed into meaning a warning. It comes from the Old French alarme, which is from the Italian all’arme, short for alle arme, to arms, which is something you’d yell as a warning. The first a in alle means to, then the le is from the Latin ille, the, and arme is from arma, weapons, one of the first words we talked about. At least this one makes sense.
 
You probably wouldn’t think adorn is from there, but it is. It showed up in the late fourteenth century from the Old French aorner, from the classical Latin adornare, to equip or furnish. The ad- means to, and ornare means to decorate and is from ordo, the origin of order.
 
Inert (of all things) showed up in the mid seventeenth century from the French inerte and classical Latin inertem. The in- means not or opposite of, and the rest is from ars, also known as art. Yes, inert is non-art.
 
Finally, the word I personally find to be the weirdest: harmony. Though harmonizing is fitting melodies together. Anyway, it showed up in the late fourteenth century from the classical Latin harmonia. That’s taken right from the Greek version of the word, which is from harmos, a joint or shoulder, which is from ar-. Harmony, once things literally fitting together, and now music doing so.
 
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

Language of Confusion: And Slowly

Well, I did fast. Might as well look at the other side of things. Although I had a harder time coming up with words related to moving slowly. Isn’t that weird?

Slow

Slow showed up as a verb in the mid sixteenth century, and as the adjective we more commonly know it as sometime before the thirteenth century. It comes from the Old English slaw, which means slow, and before that it was the Proto Germanic slaewaz. Nothing particularly surprising here. Let’s go look at some other words related to slowing down.

Inert

Inert showed up in the mid seventeenth century meaning without force or with no power to respond. It comes from the French inerte or the classical Latin inertem, which could mean unskilled,inactive, or indolent. It also happens to be a mix of the prefix in-, meaning “the opposite of” here, and ars, art. Inert is being the opposite of art.

Brake

Brake showed up in the mid fifteenth century as an “instrument for crushing or pounding”. Which…is that how car brakes work? Apparently the word used to be used to refer to the ring through the nose of an ox, and was influenced by an Old French word, brac/bras, an arm. The arm was a lever, which became a brake, which became a word for bridle or curb before becoming a “stopping device for a wheel” in 1772. Anyway, brake comes from the Middle Dutch braeke, flax break, related to breken, to break. And that’s related to break, just kind of distantly.

Slug

Slug is kind of a weird word. It’s a bug, a piece of metal, a punch…What the hell? Oh, and the word for the thing that slithers on the ground? It didn’t mean that until the eighteenth century. Three hundred years earlier it was a lazy person, coming from sluggard. That word comes from the Middle English sluggi, which in addition to being the most awesome possibility for a plural of slug meant sluggish or indolent, and is believed to be Scandinavian in origin, although no one’s sure exactly which word it might be from.

Lazy

Speaking of lazy, that word showed up in the mid sixteenth century as laysy, referring to people who were, well, lazy. Before that…no one really knows. Some people think it’s from the word lay, some think it’s from a Germanic word, or maybe Norse…It just kind of showed up one day.

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

University of Texas at Arlington

Tony Jebson’s page on the Origins of Old English

Old English-English Dictionary

University College London’s page History of the Dutch Language