From The Spamfiles

Here, something nice and innocuous to take your mind off the horrible, horrible world.

You’d think with such an urgent private message, they’d put in a name instead of a question mark.

In these times, it probably means encasing your home in vacuum-sealed plastic. You don’t need to breathe, right?

Aren’t we all looking for a gorgeous and a bomb Rocket woman?

My guy, you’re either really late, or way too early.

Wait, do you have communication issues because of trust issues? Because those things don’t seem necessarily related. Also it seems like more of a you problem than a me problem.

Look at my new follower. This is… certainly a thing that’s happening. Where’s that block button?

Magic

This is, like, 90% of my interactions with my mother.

She doesn’t usually leave me an opening like that. I couldn’t not take it.

Language Of Confusion: Take Your Seats, Part II

Back again for another fun filled adventure. Did you know that sit comes from the Proto Indo European sed-, to sit? You should, because that’s what I told you last week. And it’s a part of so many words. Some of which make sense. Most of which… do not. Because etymology.

First let’s look at some that make sense, like sedentary. It showed up in the late sixteenth century from the Middle French sédentaire and classical Latin sedentarius, sitting. It’s from the word sedentem, sat, from the verb sedere, to sit, and that’s from the Proto Indo European sed-. There’s also sediment, which showed up in the mid sixteenth century, from the Middle French sédiment and classical Latin sedimentum, sediment or settling. And that too is from sedere. Because stuff settles to the bottom of liquids, it’s related to seat.

Okay, time to get a little weirder. Sedate showed up in the mid seventeenth century meaning calm, not meaning being sedated until 1945. It’s from the classical Latin sedatus, quiet. Now, that one’s from the verb sedare, with an a, meaning to quiet or settle. But that’s also from sedere, so it’s not too odd. They just apparently decided when they were speaking more metaphorically, to replace the e with the a.

Next, saddle. Hey, it’s something you sit on. It’s from the Old English sadol, saddle, from the Proto Germanic sathulaz. That’s from sed-, which makes this the first of these words to get to us by a non-Latin route, so there’s that.

You know what else is related? Sedan. And boy, is that one a story. It showed up in the early seventeenth century but back then it only meant a chair—a chair is a seat, so yeah, that tracks. It’s thought to be (although not definitely) from the Italian sede, which means seat, from the classical Latin sedes, which is also a seat, and is from sedere and sed-. As for why it means a car, well… there’s no real reason for that. It just showed up in American English in 1912 meaning a “closed automobile seating four or more”. No idea why they picked that particular word.

Finally this week, supersede. No, I’m not making this up. It showed up in the mid fifteenth century in Scottish, believe it or not. It’s from the Middle French superceder, delay or defer, and that’s from the classical Latin supersedere, which again means supersede but also literally means “to sit on top of.” The super- means above and the rest is from sedere, to sit. To sit above, to sit on top of, to delay. Well, it makes more sense than sedan.

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

Tony Jebson’s page on the Origins of Old English

Old English-English Dictionary

University of Ottawa, Canada

From The Spamfiles

Here’s something that… probably won’t cheer you up but is the best I have.

I’ve gotten a couple of these recently, and, surprisingly, on posts that aren’t five years old. It’s like the spammers have finally figured out it’s kind of suspicious when they post their comments on ancient posts. Not really sure why they’re so anti-soy, but whatever.

Oh, they got my address from a directory. I was worried there for a second that this might be some kind of scam.

Ah, yes. My ATM card for my Africa-based bank. It’s not like there are any banks around here for me to use.

…That combination of emojis just made me throw up in my mouth a little.

Huh. I wonder if being in quarantine is going to make this type of spam way more prevalent. My guess is… yes.

Good, the profile I didn’t create has been successfully created. Time to use all those faitures before I miss all the hot adults.

...I suppose I should be surprised it took them this time to turn it into spam. But mostly I’m just enraged. Though they are right. The government doesn’t want to help us and actively wants us dead.

Not Much Has Changed, Really

My entire life has been in preparation for this.

Ha ha, it’s funny because we’re all going to die.

Language Of Confusion: Take Your Seats, Part I

See, I said I was going to do to sit, and now I am. And there are a lot of words related to this one. Yay, another multi-parter!

Sit itself comes from the Old English sittan, which just means seat, so no shocking revelations there. It’s from the Proto Germanic setjan, from the Proto Indo European sed-, to sit. Isn’t it weird when it’s straightforward?

Seat unsurprisingly is from the same place, although it has a kind of different way to English. See, it showed up in the thirteenth century from the Old Norse saeti, seat. So, slightly different origin. But that too is from Proto Germanic, in this case the word saet-, which is also from sed-. Also, seat kind of evolved by the late thirteenth century to also mean an established place (i.e. a seat of power), and because that could also be a residence, there are lots of English place names that end in -set. Probably the most interesting use of seat is in deep-seated. That word is much more recent than the other seats, having shown up in 1741 meaning “having its root far below the surface”. Since seat could mean an established place, a deep seat was a firmly established place. And that’s the reason for that.

Set is also related, and also brings in the weirdness of etymology we’ve all come to love. See, to set, as in to set something down, is from the Old English settan, to set, establish, or place. It’s from the Proto Germanic bisatejanan, to sit/set, and that’s from the Proto Indo European sod-, a variant of sed-. But. A set, as in a set of items, is not related. It has a completely different origin! It’s from the Old French sette, sequence, a variant of secte, religious community. You know, like sect. It’s from the Medieval Latin secta, retinue, from the classical Latin secta, a following. Yeah, a set of items is a sect, not a set (down).

Finally today, we’ll look at settle. It comes from the Old English setlan, to cause to sit, from setl, a seat (its definition actually ranged from a chair or throne to a butt!). It’s from the Proto Germanic setla-, from the Proto Indo European sedla-, another offshoot of sed-.

A settle is a butt. I find that way too amusing.

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

Tony Jebson’s page on the Origins of Old English

Old English-English Dictionary

Dictionary of Medieval Latin

From The Spamfiles

Here we go again.

Your soulmate id here… You know, it’s never a good sign when a place can’t spell “is”.

Okay, so this private message is either for the Riddler or the Question. Unfortunately I don’t have either of their emails.

Wait, am I unsubscribed or do I have to confirm it? Make up your mind!

A new follower on Twitter! I’ll be sure to follow back right away!

Plus this comment I got on a post from just a few weeks ago. Let’s go and take good information for education.

What do you think? Can she trust me that I am not going to scam her out of her money? What kind of monster would do such a thing?