Lachrymose

Lachrymose (pronounced lak-ruh-mohs)

(1) Suggestive of or tending to cause tears; mournful.

(2) Given to shedding tears readily; tearful; weepy.

(3) The natural state of the emo.

1655-1665: From the Latin lacrimōsus, from lacrima (a tear).  The construct was lacrima (tear) + the suffix -osus (-ful”).  It was a dialect-altered borrowing of Greek dakryma (tear) from dakryein (to shed tears, weep, lament with tears), from the Old Latin dacrima, from the primitive Indo-European dakru-; cognate with the English tear.  The meaning "given to tears, tearful" dates from 1727; that of “a mournful character" is from 1822.  Lacrymose is the now rare alternative spelling.  Lachrymose & lachrymal are adjectives, lachrymosely an adverb and lachrymation & lachrymosity are nouns; the only noun plural to register on trends of use charts is lachrymations.  

T-shirts of a lacrymal Lindsay Lohan are available.

The -d- to -l- alteration in Latin is the so-called "Sabine -L-" (as in the Latin olere (smell), from the root of odor, and Ulixes, the Latin form of Greek Odysseus.  The practice in Medieval Latin of writing -ch- for -c- before -r- also altered anchor, pulchritude and sepulchre. The -y- is pedantic, from the former belief, widespread during the Middle Ages, that the word was pure Greek.  Earlier in the same sense was lachrymental, known from the 1620s and in mid-fifteenth century Middle English there was lacrymable in the sense of "tearful".  A lacrymatory or lachrymatory (from the Latin lacrima (tear)) was a small vessel of terracotta or, more frequently, of glass, found in Roman and late Greek tombs, and supposed to have been bottles into which mourners dropped their tears. Lachrymator is a substance that irritates the eyes and causes tears to flow.  Lacryma Christi (known also as the Lachryma Christi of Vesuvius (literally "tears of Christ")), is a Neapolitan type of wine produced on the slopes of Mount Vesuvius in Campania, Italy.  Analysis of the microscopic residue left on the taps of the casks revealed it to be the nearest equivalent to wine drunk in Ancient Rome.

Women have long understood the power of the tear and there’s suspicion some can turn it on and off like a tap if the situation calls; it’s just another technique of rhetoric.  Men generally probably are less capable of summoning lachrymosity on demand but in politics there have been a few tearful types, some occasionally, some habitually.  Winston Churchill (1875-1965; Prime Minister of the UK 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) could be as brutal and blood-thirsty as any but was sentimental about animals, the sufferings of colleagues and even opponents, unashamedly crying when moved by the moment, sometimes even in the House of Commons.  Harold Macmillan (1894–1986; Prime Minister of the UK 1957-1963), his successor but one, was in public of the “stiff upper lip school” but even he, as he noted in his diary, “burst into tears” after signing the 1963 nuclear test ban treaty although he did it alone, behind closed doors but then much of the old Etonian’s secret life was lived thus.  US house speaker John Boehner (b 1949; Speaker of the US House of Representatives 2011-2015) was famously tearful during his time in the chair but given the difficulties he faced, it’s a wonder he didn’t cry more.  He gained the speakership essentially because the Republican’s Tea Party faction gained enough seats to deliver him the numbers but once installed he found their bloody minded intransigence made his job close to impossible and while the story may be apocryphal, it’s said he cried even when playing golf with Barack Obama (b 1961; President of the US 2009-2017).  Folk probably cry during a round with Donald Trump (b 1946; President of the US 2017-2021) but for other reasons.

Lindsay Lohan and her lawyer in court, Los Angeles, December 2011. 

There have been a few Australian prime-ministers known to have made others cry but some did it themselves.  Bob Hawke’s (1929–2019; Prime Minister of Australia 1983-1991) tears flowed in response to a journalist’s question about a drug-related matter and only later did he reveal his daughter suffered a heroin addiction.  The loss of the prime-ministership brought tears from both Malcolm Fraser (1930-2015; Prime Minister of Australia 1975-1983) and Kevin Rudd (b 1957; Prime Minister of Australia 2007-2010 & 2013), Rudd at the time apologizing for having “blubbed on live TV” but the most famously lachrymose at the point of dismissal was Lord Goderich (1782-1859; Prime Minister of the UK 1827-1828) whose brief, unhappy premiership ended when he was sacked by George IV (1762–1830; King of the United Kingdom 1820-1830) who kindly loaned him the royal handkerchief.  The weeping would have come as no surprise to his contemporaries and even the official biography on the Downing Street website gleefully mentions the nickname they gave the tearful Goderich: “the Blubberer”.

Mad

Mad (pronounced mad)

(1) Mentally disturbed; deranged; insane; demented.

(2) Enraged; greatly provoked or irritated; angry.

(3) As madman or (metaphorically) mad dog, a person abnormally furious; ferocious (and can be applied literally to animals (mad bull etc), especially dogs afflicted with rabies (a rabid dog).

(4) Extremely foolish or unwise; imprudent; irrational.

(5) Wildly excited or confused; frantic (often as “in mad haste”).

(6) Overcome by desire, eagerness, enthusiasm etc; excessively or uncontrollably fond of (usually) someone; infatuated; (often as “madly in love”).

(7) Wildly lively and merry; enjoyably hilarious.

(8) Of extremes in climatic conditions (of wind, storms, etc), furious in violence.

(9) An angry or ill-tempered period, mood, or spell.

(10) As MAD, the acronym for mutually assured destruction: a theory of nuclear warfare deterrence whereby each side in a conflict has the capacity to destroy the other in retaliation for a nuclear attack.

(11) The acronym for the Militärischer Abschirmdienst, a counterintelligence agency of the German military (essentially the successor to the old Abwehr (1920-1944)).

(12) The acronym, in admiralty administration, for the Maritime anomaly detection in Global Maritime Situational Awareness, for avoiding maritime collisions

(13) The acronym, in astronomy, for the Magnetic anomaly detector which detects variations in Earth's magnetic field.

(14) The acronym, in high-energy physics, for the Methodical Accelerator Design, a CERN scripting language used in particle acceleration.

Pre 900: From the Middle English mad (adjective) & madden (an intransitive verb, derived from the adjective), from the Old English gemǣd, past participle of gemǣdan (to make mad), akin to gemād (troubled in mind; demented, insane, foolish).  It was cognate with the Old Saxon gemēd, the Old Norse meitha (to hurt, damage) and the Old High German gimeit (foolish, silly, crazy).  In the Old English, gemǣded was the past participle of gemǣdan (to render insane).  As an adjective, the comparative is madder and the superlative maddest but the strangest adjectival form is probably the very English maddish, suggesting some state between displeased and actually mad.  The ultimate root of the Old English forms was the Germanic adjective gamaidaz (changed for the worse, abnormal), the element “maid” from the primitive Indo-European moi-, a variant of the root mei- & moi- (to change, exchange, go, move), extended with a dental suffix (-d in Germanic; -t elsewhere).  The same suffixed variant moit- appears in the Latin mūtāre (to change, exchange, give and receive in exchange), familiar in COVID-19-era English as mutate.  The Sicilian Greek (a fork by virtue of geography always most likely to be influenced by Latin) has the noun moîtos (thanks, favor, reward), presumably a borrowing from the Old Latin moitus.  Mad is an adjective, verb & adverb; madder & maddeningness are nouns, adjectives & verbs, maddest, maddish & maddening are adjectives, madly & maddeningly are adverbs and madden & maddens are verbs; the noun use of mad is non-standard.

The synonyms for mad exist in its four senses (1) lunatic, maniacal, psychotic, crazed, crazy, nuts, kooky, nutty, insane, (2) furious, exasperated, livid, raging, wrathful, irate, (3) ill-advised; unsafe, dangerous, perilous & (4) absurd, fantastic, delirious, wondrous.  There is much overlap in the synonyms, insane historically meant “not sane, mentally unstable” but is now popular with the Instagram generation as a general expression of approval and "bonkers", while still meaning “not sane, mentally unstable” also (except in the US) has come to be used in an entirely non-pejorative way to suggest something astonishing in the sense of something or someone verging on the irrational but in some way inspiring; absurd works in a similar way.

Bonkers: 2023 Dodge Challenger SRT Demon 170.

Because it makes Greta Thunberg (b 2003) mad, the likes of the SRT Demon 170 won’t be seen again but an off-the-shelf machine which can generate 1,025 horsepower makes a fine swansong.  To make Ms Thunberg madder still, it’s noted the induction system is capable of providing more fuel flow per minute than the average US showerhead and in a nice touch the purchaser will receive a commemorative Demon 170 decanter set.  Thousand horsepower cars for the street have traditionally been the preserve of madmen but mad women should be encouraged to give one a try.   

The word appears often in idiomatic use including “mad as a March hare” which alluded to hares becoming especially active in spring their mating season; “mad as a meat axe”, an especially evocative piece of Australian slang which is self-explanatory to anyone who has seen an un-skilled operator use a meataxe on a carcass and “barking mad”, the origin of which is mysterious.  The best story links it with the existence of a medieval lunatic asylum in the grounds of the royal monastery Barking Abbey (located in what is now the London borough of Barking and Dagenham) but there’s no evidence of use before the early twentieth century and most etymologists have concluded there’s a link with the idea “mad dogs” incessantly bark.  The London slang use suggesting someone is “three stops past Barking” is thought to have be an opportunistic adoption referencing the “barking” and in the vein of something like “a picnic short of a sandwich” which suggests some degree of mental incapacity.  There was even “shorthand slang” based on this idea: were one to be called “daggers”, it meant one was “three stops past Barking”, Dagenham being three stations beyond Barking on the London Underground.

The original meaning of mad was “insane, demented, disturbed of mind”, a sense inherited with the word from the Germanic forms.  The progression in meaning seems to have begun circa 1300 when the senses (1) “mad dog” (dog afflicted with rabies (rabid)), (2) “foolish or unwise” and (3), “overcome by desire or eagerness” emerged; the meaning “enraged, angry” not recorded until circa 1400.  This sense of mad quickly became the usual colloquial term in the United States whereas “angry” long persisted as the popular form elsewhere in the English-speaking world although the increasing US cultural influence noted since the mid-twentieth century makes these distinctions probably less noticeable.  The sense “wildly lively, merry” is said to be an innovation of African-American English associated with jazz and dating from the 1940s.  For those learning English, “mad” must seem a strange word given the social difficulties engendered if one accidently mixes up being “mad about you” with “mad at you”.  So students should be given practical examples such as: "I am mad about him" (I would like to enjoy intimacy with him); "I am mad at him" (I am angry with him or I would like to kill him); "He is mad" (he appears mentally unstable).

Lindsay Lohan and her lawyer in court, Los Angeles, December 2011.

Another thing for them to learn was that wad was one of those words listed as a class-identifier by Professor Alan Ross (1907-1980), Professor of Linguistics at the University of Birmingham who in 1954 coined "U" (upper-class) and "non-U" (non-Upper-Class) to describe the differences social class makes in their use of English.  While his article included differences in pronunciation and writing styles, it was his list of variations in vocabulary which attracted most interest.  One difference he noted was the upper-class call the obviously unstable “mad” whereas the lower classes tend to label them “mental”.  Professor Ross published his illustrative glossary "U" and "non-U", differentiating the speech patterns in English social classes, in a Finnish academic journal and used extracts from Nancy Mitford’s (1904–1973 and the oldest of the Mitford sisters, all but one of whom society's more conventional types were apt to label "mad") 1945 novel The Pursuit of Love to provide examples of the patterns of speech of the upper class.  This pleased Nancy Mitford who interpolated the professor’s work into an article about the English gentry she was writing for Stephen Spender's (1909-1995) literary magazine Encounter (1953-1990).  Although not best-pleased that her discussion of the Ross thesis was the only part of her piece to attract attention, more amusing was the subsequent re-publication in 1956 in her Noblesse Oblige: an Enquiry into the Identifiable Characteristics of the English Aristocracy which, augmented with contributions from John Betjeman (1906–1984) and Evelyn Waugh (1903–1966), meant that for decades she was the acknowledged authority on upper-class speech, manners and ways.  Her class-conscious readers had taken it all more seriously than she had intended.

He must have been mad: New Zealand-born political cartoonist David Low’s (1891-1963) take on the announcement from Berlin that Rudolf Hess (1894–1987; Nazi deputy Führer 1933-1941) had gone mad, Daily Express 15 May 1941.  Clockwise from left: Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi 1922-1945, Hitler's designated successor & Reichsmarschall 1940-1945), Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945), Dr Robert Ley (1890–1945; head of the Deutsche Arbeitsfront (German Labour Front) 1933-1945), Heinrich Himmler (1900–1945; Reichsführer SS 1929-1945), Dr Joseph Goebbels (1897-1975; Nazi propaganda minister 1933-1945) and Joachim von Ribbentrop (1893–1946; Nazi foreign minister 1938-1945).

On 10 May 1941, Hess, a skilled pilot, wholly on his own initiative, undertook a secret flight to Scotland where his plan was to negotiate an end to the hostilities between the UK and Germany.  This was only days before the German invasion of the Soviet Union (something of which Hess made no mention while being interrogated) and his motivation was to avoid what he (correctly) regarded as the major strategic mistake of confronting a two-front war.  The British government, interested only in the eradication of Nazism declined to negotiate and Hess was locked up, including for some two weeks enjoying the rare honor of being held in the tower of London.  News of Hess’s flight had sent shockwaves through the Nazi high command, then about to embark on the greatest invasion in history.

Rudolf Hess (left) and Adolf Hitler (right), Sturmabteilung (the SA (Storm Troopers, the Nazi Party's original paramilitary formation) parade, Nuremberg 11 September 1938; the car is a Mercedes-Benz 770K (W07, 1930–1938).

After for a while clinging to the hope his erstwhile deputy might have crashed into the ocean, Hitler, upon hearing the BBC (British Broadcasting Corporation) confirm the curious arrival on Scottish soil, made the sudden decision to issue a statement claiming Hess had gone mad, the consequence of injuries suffered during World War I (1914-1918) and falling under the influence of fortune tellers.  This was done without consulting the propaganda minister and Goebbels was aghast the regime had just admitted its deputy leader was a madman; he feared how the British would exploit the revelation, knowing what he’d do in their place.  However, aware through intelligence sources the invasion of Russia was nigh, the British had no wish to convey to Moscow the impression they were seeking to make peace with the Nazis and the bizarre business soon vanished from the news, coming to be known as a “nine day wonder”; the only one upon whom it appeared to leave a lasting impression was comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) who to his dying day remained suspicious elements in the UK were associated with the flight of the “motorized Parsifal”.

Hitler on a walk with Helga Goebbels (1932-1945), 1936.  She was Joseph Goebbels' oldest child.

The other immediate effect was the Nazis, in a typical reaction, organized a crackdown on the fortune tellers but in Berlin, the sardonic humor soon surfaced and a joke circulated in which Hess was taken to meet Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) who asked: “So you’re the madman?” to which he received the reply: “No, I’m only his deputy.”  Hess died by suicide in Spandau prison in 1987 after 46 years in captivity, outliving Göring (committed suicide in 1946 just before he was to be hanged for war crimes), Hitler (committed suicide in 1945 in the Berlin Führerbunker with the Red Army’s tanks only streets away), Ley (committed suicide in 1945 while under indictment as a war criminal), Himmler (committed suicide in 1945 after being arrested by the British), Goebbels (committed suicide in 1945 (with his wife) after they’d murdered their six children (aged between 4-12)) and von Ribbentrop (hanged in 1946 as a war criminal.

Until probably sometime in the nineteenth century, for all but a few specialists, the condition of madness was relatively simple: people were mad or sane and while it was noted one could become the other, once labeled as mad one was by most, probably always thought mad and the punchy succinctness of the word could produce a memorable phrase such as the one used by Lady Caroline Lamb (1785–1828) to describe her lover, Lord Byron (George Gordon Byron 1788–1824): "Mad, bad, and dangerous to know".  The only widely observed nuances were behavioral and that was because madness was an observational diagnosis; there were those who were mad, slightly mad, quite mad and barking mad, hardly clinically exact descriptors but it’s doubtful many misunderstood what was being conveyed.  Modernity’s advances in neurology and pharmacology allowed the creation of psychiatry which began to gain a grudging acknowledged respectability in the medical profession around the turn of the century and it been a growth industry since.  The American Psychiatric Association’s (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM), when first published (DSM-I, 1952) was a slim volume of 130 pages which listed 106 mental disorders but by the time the fifth edition (DSM-5, 2013) was released it had grown to 947 pages although interestingly, the number of specific diagnoses was reduced from 172 in DSM-IV (1987) to 157, something of an achievement given 15 new mental illnesses were added.  It is though bit of a definitional minefield and there are those who suggest that once deconstructed, there are really over 300 identifiable conditions, some of the official 157 categories better thought of as groups or clusters.  However the count is done, nobody is expecting DSM-6 to contain fewer pages, whatever method is used to define the conditions so it seems there must been more to madness than once convenient mad-sane binary.

How much the proliferation of diagnosed madness is mission-creep and how much better understanding is a debate, mostly outside the profession.  Some of it is certainly an attempt to secure market-share for the psychiatrists, some “conditions” once thought normal as part of the spectrum of the human condition now listed as a disorder to be referred for treatment and in some cases this is doubtlessly a good thing although quite how reassuring a diagnosis of “generalized anxiety disorder” (GAD) is for a patient may be questionable.  GAD may also be overkill, the psychoanalyst having long supplanted the priest for those who can afford the hourly-rate, market share seems well secured.

Some of Louis Wain's drawings of cats, all reputed to date from his time of incarceration in a mental hospital during the 1930s.

The English artist Louis Wain (1860–1939) was a noted painter of cats, sometimes naturalistic, sometimes stylized and often anthropomorphic.  In his sixties he was diagnosed with schizophrenia and confined to a series of mental institutions, settling eventually in Napsbury Hospital, north of London.  By the standards of the time it was a convivial place with a park and a colony of cats and while his condition worsened, the frequency of his psychotic episodes decreased but drawings of cats he continued to produce became increasingly abstract, intricate and bizarre.  After 1930, he would never again leave Napsbury and there, in 1939, he died aged 78.  For a long time his paintings of cats have been used to illustrate an artist's descent into madness, a theme popular in those circles in which the notion of the "disturbed genius" is a cult.  However, the thesis has been questioned, notably on the technical ground of chronology; being undated, it can't be guaranteed the sequence of drawings as they're usually assembled are an accurate lineal progression of his work and doubt has been case even on the diagnosis of schizophrenia, some speculating the then not well understood medication used in the era to treat the condition may have contributed to his symptoms.

Guignol

Guignol (pronounced guin-yholl)

(1) A puppet, especially a hand puppet.

(2) A puppet show.

(3) As Grand-Guignol, a theatrical production featuring melodramatic tension, horror, and shock.

(4) A French insult meaning one is an “oaf” or “buffoon”.

Early 1800s: A borrowing from Modern French, the origin (in this context) reputedly the name of a silk weaver of Lyon which was the central character of the puppet theatre which French puppeteer Laurent Mourguet installed there for the earliest performance (in 1795) of French puppet shows.  Because of the origin, the word is sometimes capitalized and some historians suggest there may be a link with guigner (to wink), nictation one of the puppet’s signature gestures.  Guignol is a noun, the noun plural is guignols.

Guignol’s creation was serendipitous and a matter of economic necessity.  The silk weaver Laurent Mourguet (1769–1844) from Lyon had been forced from his trade by the economic convulsions in the wake of the French Revolution (1789) and by 1797, after for some time scratching-out a living as an itinerant peddler, he took to the business of teeth pulling (the origins of dentistry), one of the attractions being one required little equipment other than a chair and several pairs of pliers.  It certainly required no qualifications but unlike today’s dentists, there were no fees and his income came from the sale of the potions and herbal preparations he sold a pain relievers, some apparently at least temporarily effective.  Seeking a marketing edge, as an advertising gimmick, he set up a puppet show in front of the chair on which he performed his gruesome procedures.

History doesn’t record how well regarded Monsieur Mourguet was for his dentistry but within a short time his puppetry had attracted such a following he gave up all things odontic and became a professional puppeteer, one who would these days be called a social realist because his performances focused on the cares and concerns of his working class audience, matters he knew well from his own humble background.  His following grew because of the topicality of his material which referenced the scandals and corruption then so often in the news.  In another modern touch (which would much appeal to later French deconstructionists), he created an ensemble cast of characters, the best known of which were the silk weaver Monsieur Guignol and his wife Madelon and while some things were constant (such as Guignol’s fondness for drink), there was fluidity about the roles the others would from time to time play and while they all were there to entertain, politics, poverty and the of the travails of the working class existence were always the underlying themes.  Despite that however, what characterized his work was the good humor and happy endings, the French use of “Guignol” as an insult meaning something like “oaf” or “buffoon” is something like the use of “muppet” in much of the English-speaking world; the muppet puppets weren’t stupid, they just looked as if they were.

The later performance genre was Le Théâtre du Grand-Guignol (The Theatre of the Great Puppet) and usually referred to as Grand-Guignol (pronounced gron guin-yholl).  Grand-Guignol was a Parisian theatre which specialized in grotesque horror shows in which the puppets sometimes dripped blood, accounting for the phrase “grand-guignol” being used of any film, book or other production packed with blood and gore.  The theatre proper existed between 1897-1962 and featured a succession of naturalistic horror shows which relied for their appeal on the sort of spectacle then not available in any other form of public performance.  Sometimes there we happy endings and sometimes not and really it mattered little, the point being the death toll and the gruesomeness of the mean of dispatch and it was a comment more on the audience attracted than the storylines that most seemed to find Grand-Guignol entertaining rather than shocking as initially it was intended to be.  The modern version of all this gratuitous violence is the “splatter movie” though that doesn't mean Le Théâtre du Grand-Guignol can be blamed for I Know Who Killed Me (2007).

The blood soaked Grand-Guignol is notable for the graphic art its advertising spawned and these pieces influenced film studios around the world, their motifs still used today.

It was remarkable Grand-Guignol lasted as long as it did because the audience numbers had been in decline since the end of World War II (1939-1945) and it never came close to regaining the popularity the theatre enjoyed in the inter-war years.  Much has been made of the decline of interest being linked to the revelations of the horrors perpetrated during the holocaust, the argument being that whatever the puppets depicted (which once would have been thought unthinkable in modern, civilized Europe) could be as awful as the gas chambers and crematoria of the Third Reich’s death camps.  It was something in the vein of (the often misquoted) 1949 dictum of German philosopher Theodor Adorno (1903–1969): “To write poetry after Auschwitz is barbaric”.  However, it was during those years of declining interest that television reached critical mass and relaxations in censorship meant what was able to be shown in French cinemas could be more confronting than the sanitized stuff to which distributors were once restricted.  The competition for eyeballs had become fierce.

Not all puppets are so gruesome: Lindsay Lohan interviewed by Air New Zealand’s Rico the puppet for one of the airline’s infomercials, Los Angeles 2014.

Mint

Mint (pronounced mint)

(1) Any aromatic herb of the genus genus Mentha (family Lamiaceae (labiates)), having opposite, aromatic leaves and spikes of small, typically mauve, whorled flowers.  The leaves of some species are used for seasoning and flavoring (peppermint, spearmint, horsemint, water mint. mint sauce etc).

(2) A soft or hard confection or candy flavored with spearmint or peppermint.

(3) A shade of green, classically a light hue with a cool, bluish undertone but many commercial products so-named are quite vivid.

(4) Something made or flavored with mint.

(5) Of or pertaining to the color mint.

(6) To make (coins, medals etc.) by stamping metal; to turn (metal) into coins.

(7) In crypto-currencies, to create a crypto token.

(8) A place where coins and special medals (and in some places paper currency) etc are, now always under government authority if the production of legal tender is involved.

(9) A place where something is produced or manufactured.

(10) In slang, to make, fabricate or invent (including weightless items such as words).

(11) In slang (as “a mint”, “made a mint” etc), a vast amount, especially of money.

(12) In slang, excellent; impressive (mostly northern England)

(13) In slang, attractive; beautiful; handsome (most of the English Speaking world except North America).

(14) In philately (of a stamp) and numismatics (of currency), being in its original, unused condition (use now extended to (1) any item in such condition and (2) an item which has been restored or renovated to a state where it can be described as “as new” (ie appearing to be newly made and never used, even if once dilapidated)).

(15) Intent; purpose; an attempt; try; effort (mostly northern England & Scotland).

(16) To take aim at with a firearm (rare and mostly northern England & Scotland).

(17) To hit or strike at someone or something (rare).

Pre 900: From the Middle English mynt & münet (money, coin), from the Old English mynet (coin, coinage, money), from the late Proto-West Germanic munit, from the Latin monēta (place for making coins, coined money) and named after the temple of Juno Monēta (named for Monēta,mother of the Muses), the mint where Roman money was coined.  A doublet of money and manat, the verb was from the noun; the Old English mynetian (to mint) was a parallel formation.  The use to describe “mean, intent, aim etc” was also pre 900 and was from the Middle English verb minten, munten & munte (to intend, plan, think of), from the Old English myntan & gemyntan (to mean, intend, purpose, determine, resolve), the noun a derivative of the verb, from the Proto-West Germanic muntijan (to think, consider), from the primitive Indo-European men- & mnā- (to think),  It was cognate with the Saterland Frisian mintsje & muntsje (to aim, target), the Dutch munten (to aim at, target), the German Low German münten (to aim at), the German münzen (to aim at), the Dutch monter (cheerful, gladsome, spry), the Gothic muns, (thought, opinion) and the Old English munan (to be mindful of, consider, intend).  The use in botany may have been earlier but certainly was in use by the tenth century.  It was from the Middle English mynte, from the eighth century Old English minte (the mint plant), from the Proto-West Germanic mintā (leaf of the mint) (source also of Old Saxon minta, the Middle Dutch mente, the Old High German minza and the German Minze), from the Latin mentha & menta of uncertain origin but probably from a lost Mediterranean language via either the Ancient Greek μίνθη (mínthē) & μίνθα (míntha) or directly.  It was akin to the Old Norse minta (mint) and the Old High German minza.  In Greek mythology, minthē was personified as a nymph transformed into an herb by Proserpine.

Lindsay Lohan with mint hair (digitally altered image).

The general sense of “a vast sum of money” was in use by the 1650s and the term “mint-mark” (mark placed upon a coin to indicate the mint where it was struck) was formalized in 1797.  The verb in the sense of “to stamp metal to make coins” dates from the 1540s and was developed from the noun; minting soon followed.  In the Old English, the agent noun was mynetere which became the twelfth century Middle English minter (one who stamps coins to create money; place where coins are stamped), from the Late Latin monetarius.  The adjective minty (full of or tasting of mint) was documented since 1867 (mintesque seems never to have been coined) while the related noun mintiness was first noted in the 1920s.  Mint is a noun, verb & adjective; minting is a noun & verb, minted is a verb & adjective and minty is an adjective, the noun plural is mints.

Minties: 54.3% sugar and inclined to extract fillings, they are income generators for dentists.

Introduced in Australia in 1922, the Mintie is a mint-flavored confectionery which is hard, white, chewy and prone while chewing to enter such a state of stickiness that it's not unusual for dental fillings to be dislodged.  Despite this, essentially unchanged, they've been popular in Australia and New Zealand for over a century, some half a billion are sold annually and they're available in many outlets around the world.  In some places they have a cult following and in London there's a shop which offers a text-messaging service to advise customers when the sticky treat is again in stock, the Mintie addicts apparently not only homesick colonials.  The company's It's moments like these you need Minites advertising campaign in the 1920s was responsible for a catch-phrase entering the local vernacular, the truncated “It's moments like these” still heard when something unfortunate has happened.

In September 2023, Rupert Murdoch (b 1931) announced he was standing down from executive roles within the News organization to become Chairman Emeritus.  It came as a surprise because many had assumed he’d intended to die “in the saddle” and after all, he is 92 so people needed just to be patient.  But he (sort of) retired instead and that triggered the inevitable speculation about hidden agendas and ulterior motives, the things which for decades have been attributed to Mr Murdoch’s every action.  It’ll be interesting to watch the dynamics this unleashes in the Murdoch family but it may be that now he’s again single, Mr Murdoch just wants more time for dating.  One almost immediate impact of his (at least symbolic) departure was a lapse in journalist standards within the corporation, a piece run on the news.com.au website including a mistake which once would never have got past a sub-editor.  The story was about a US$10,000 bill “minted” during the 1930s.

News.com.au, 26 September 2023.

In the US, dollar bills are not “minted”, they are “printed”, the US Bureau of Engraving and Printing responsible for the production of paper currency while coins are produced by the United States Mint.  The $10,000 bill in question was rated as “mint condition” by the authoritative Paper Money Guarantee (PMG), a third-party operation which assesses and certifies paper money and sold for US$480,000 at the Long Beach Expo currency auction in Dallas, Texas, a record for the type.  The high-value US bills are now quite a novelty, the Treasury in 1969 purging from the system all “large value bills” (ie anything above US$100) and while even then $500 & $1000 bills were still in circulation, the older issues (up to $10,000) had vanished from general use and were restricted to institutional and inter-departmental purposes.

Mint fan Lindsay Lohan with Prada Mint Satchel Tote Bag (May 2012, left), in mint green dress (February 2012, centre) and mint green bathing suit (July 2017, right).

Mintbacks: During the 1930s, there was even a US$100,000 bill but it was technically a “Treasury Gold Certificate” which never entered circulation, use restricted to transactions between branches of the Federal Reserve.  It’s interesting to speculate what a $100,000 Treasury Gold Certificate in mint condition would achieve at auction.  It would obviously have a value to numismatists because of the historical significance and collectors would be drawn to such a rarity but these certificates have not been redeemable for gold (or indeed US$) since Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US president 1969-1974) abandoned the gold standard in 1971.

Clockwise from top left: 1971 Holden Monaro GTS 350, 1970 Plymouth ‘Cuda 440-6, 1972 Ford Falcon XA GT, 1973 Triumph Stag, 1970 Plymouth Road Runner Superbird and 1971 Chrysler Valiant Charger R/T E38.

The combination of advances in manufacturing techniques and the psychedelic vibe of the late 1960s inspired manufacturers to offer some lurid shades.  It was the first time since the 1920s that purple gained some popularity but bright greens were also fashionable and in marketing departments, imaginations were allowed to wander as names were conjured.  It probably never was true that weed and acid were much involved in the process but the names certainly read as if they were and they included: Plum Crazy, In-Violet, Tor Red, Sassy Grass, Panther Pink, Sub Lime, Lime Light, Moulin Rouge, Top Banana, Lemon Twist & Citron Yella.  Although it may be an industry myth, the story told is that Plum Crazy & In-Violet (vivid shades of purple) were late additions because the killjoy board refused to sign-off on Statutory Grape.  Some of the colors used in the US were too bright to be called “mint” and the ones which were closer didn’t adopt the description but in Australia, Holden had what most would consider a “lime” green but they anyway called it “Lina Mint”, a name apparently just too good to resist.  After 1973, the bright colors vanished from the color charts for some 25 years because the use of lead in paint was banned and it wasn’t until the twenty-first century alternatives were produced at viable cost.

The Mint Julep

Mint Julep served in Julip Tin.

Famously associated with the Kentucky Derby which is one leg of the racing’s Triple Crown, the origins of the mint julep lie in ancient Persia where it was a non-alcoholic drink made with rosewater.  Julep was from the Middle English, from the Old French julep, from the Medieval Latin julapium (via the Arabic جُلَاب‎ (julāb)), from the Persian گلاب‎ (golâb) (rosewater), the construct being گل‎ (rose) + آب‎ (water).  The refreshing drink was one of the many cultural exports from the Orient which reached Europe in the seventeenth century and from there it travelled across the Atlantic where, gradually, it evolved into something alcoholic.  Like other such concoctions in post-colonial America, the julep for some time straddled the gray area of respectability between sometimes dubious medicinal preparations and party drinks and it wasn’t until the commercial ice trade expanded early in the nineteenth century it became really popular.  Now most associated with whiskey, the early recipes in the US all suggested using French brandy or cognac but as the great national switch to whiskey gained momentum in the later 1800s, the mint julep in its familiar modern form became the standard.

Ingredients

65ml bourbon
10 mint leaves
12.5ml of 2:1 sugar syrup
A big sprig of mint

Method

Prepare the 2:1 sugar syrup by dissolving 1 cup of sugar in ½ cup of water over a low heat.  Leave to cool, and then store in a bottle with a suitable pouring neck.  This will make about 1 cup of sugar syrup.  Use either a highball or julep tin and keep them under refrigeration for long enough for them to be ice-cold.  A mint julep must be served really cold.

Shake the ingredients with ice and strain into a highball glass or julep tin filled with crushed ice. Churn gently with a long-handled spoon and top with more crushed ice.  Because the scent of mint is the julep’s signature, give the mint garnish a couple of sharp claps between your palms before tucking it into the glass; this will release the aromatic oils.  Some experiment with different types of mint (apple mint, chocolate mint, spearmint et al) while other insist on sticking to the classics.  A straw is essential and the ideal ones to use are stainless steel because (1) they better maintain the temperature and (2) will last decades and reduce plastic waste.

Can

Can (pronounced kan)

(1) A sealed container for food, beverages etc, by convention made from aluminum, iron coated with tin or another metal (has now become a common form even on parts of the English-speaking world where “tin” was the traditional use (the form “tin can” covering all bases).

(2) A receptacle for garbage, ashes, etc (often as “trash can”)

(3) A bucket, pail, or other container used usually for holding or carrying liquids.

(4) A drinking cup; a tankard.

(5) A shallow, cylindrical (usually aluminum, cardboard or plastic) container made in various sizes and used for storing and handling film on cores or reels (often used in the phrase “in the can” to indicate the completion of something).

(6) In slang (mildly vulgar), of US military origin, the latrine; the toilet.

(7) In slang, jail; prison (often in the phrase “in the can”).

(8) In slang (mildly vulgar), the buttocks (always in the plural).

(9) In audio engineering, a set of headphones which cover the ears (always in the plural).

(10) In admiralty slang, a depth charge (in the US Navy used also as a slang term for a destroyer, the “utility” warship in size historically between a frigate and cruiser).

(11) In slang, to discard something; to throw away.

(12) In slang, to throw something away;

(13) In slang, to stop something (a project, discussion etc).

(14) In many places, an alternative to “canx” as an abbreviation for “cancelled” (notably by those who have standardized on three-character codes)

(15) In military ordnance, a standard abbreviation for “canon”.

(16) For some purposes, the abbreviation for “Canada” & “Canadian”.

(17) To be able to; to possess the necessary qualifications, skill or knowledge; to know how to; to have the power, authority or means to.

(18) To have the possibility.

(19) To know (obsolete).

(20) To seal a substance (usually food) in a can; to preserve by sealing in a can (can also be used of substances stored in glass jars etc.

(21) In slang, to dismiss from employment; to fire.

(22) In film & television, to record on film, tape or some other medium (based on the physical “cans” in which films were stored).

Pre 900: From the Middle English, from the Old English cunnan (to know, know how) and cognate with the German & Gothic kann (know), the Old Norse kunna, Old High German kunnan, the Latin cognōscere (to know) and the Sanskrit jānāti (he knows).  The use to describe the receptacle emerged some decades later and was from the Middle English canne, can & cane, from the Old English canne and cognate with the German Kanne, the Old Norse and Old High German kanna, the Irish gann and the Swedish kana, all of which may be of West Germanic origin.  In the Late Latin, a canna was a “small drinking vessel”.  Can is a verb & noun, canned & canning are verbs; the noun plural is cans.

In Singlish, “can” is a versatile word.  Singlish (the construct a portmanteau of Sin(gapore) + (Eng)lish)) is still known by some language specialists as Colloquial Singaporean English but the blend is a more popular description and aligns the variation with flavors like Spanglish (Spanish influenced English), Hinglish (Hindi influenced English) & Konglish (Korean influenced English).  In Singapore, Singlish is used in parallel with Singaporean Standard English (differing usually from British English only in the accents although standards in the Far East tend generally to be higher) and it’s been documented since the 1960s although the linguistic tradition is much older.  In Singlish, the meaning of “can” can vary according to the relationship between the speakers and the tone of voice used although essentially it means “yes”, the nuances learned through use. For example Can or not? means “Can you do this?” to which the reply is Can (yes).  As a politeness, that might be responded to by Can meh? (Are you sure?), the expected answer being Can lah! (Yes of course!).  Inevitably, that begat Cannot lah!

In idiomatic use, a “can of worms” is a complicated, difficult, distasteful problem and if applied in retrospect it’s often of something which proved insoluble.  To “carry the can” is to take responsibility for something (particularly if challenging or troublesome); when used in the form “left carrying the can” it implies the task has been “dumped on one”, all others having evaded task.  It’s believed “carry the can” has its origin in the undesirable task of “latrine duty” in the military which required one literally to carry away from the temporary latrines “cans of shit” (also the origin of “can” as a slang word for “toilet”.  To “kick the can down the road” is delay dealing with a problem, the idea being of not then picking up the can as one eventually must.  “In the can” indicates something is complete, arranged, agreed or finalized and was from film production, the cores or reels of processed and edited films being stored “in the can” (a shallow, cylindrical (usually aluminum, cardboard or plastic) container made in various sizes to suit different film stocks.  To be a “can do” sort of person is to be dynamic, positive and anxious to accept a challenge.  The politician Campbell Newman (b 1963; premier of the Australian state of Queensland 2012-2015) described himself as “Can do Campbell” and enjoyed a fine election victory but it ended badly; in the next he suffered one of the bigger landslides in modern political history losing even his own seat.  “Canned laughter” was the process by which “laughter tracks” were spliced into the recordings of television comedies for subsequent broadcast, emulating a live (and appreciative) audience.  It’s often been regarded cynically but all the research suggests it really did work.  The popular phrase ”no can do” indicates an inability or unwillingness to do something.

Yes we can

Barack Obama (b 1961; US president 2009-2017) more than once observed he thought the speeches he wrote were better than any which came from his speechwriters and one can see his point but one of the reasons his presidency is regarded as insubstantial is that his words were more impressive than his deeds.  He was elected president and awarded the Nobel Prize for the same reason: He wasn’t George W Bush (George XLIII, b 1946; US president 2001-2009).  He promised much, exemplified by the phrase “…yes, we can” which expertly he worked into a speech he delivered in Nashua, New Hampshire on 8 January 2008, during the Democratic primaries while campaigning against crooked Hillary Clinton (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013) for the party’s nomination:

…and tonight, I think about all that she's seen throughout her century in America — the heartache and the hope; the struggle and the progress; the times we were told that we can't and the people who pressed on with that American creed: Yes, we can.

At a time when women's voices were silenced and their hopes dismissed, she lived to see them stand up and speak out and reach for the ballot. Yes, we can.

When there was despair in the Dust Bowl and depression across the land, she saw a nation conquer fear itself with a New Deal, new jobs and a new sense of common purpose. Yes, we can.

When the bombs fell on our harbor and tyranny threatened the world, she was there to witness a generation rise to greatness and a democracy was saved. Yes, we can.

She was there for the buses in Montgomery, the hoses in Birmingham, a bridge in Selma and a preacher from Atlanta who told a people that "We Shall Overcome." Yes, we can.

A man touched down on the moon, a wall came down in Berlin, a world was connected by our own science and imagination. And this year, in this election, she touched her finger to a screen and cast her vote, because after 106 years in America, through the best of times and the darkest of hours, she knows how America can change. Yes, we can.

America, we have come so far. We have seen so much. But there is so much more to do. So tonight, let us ask ourselves: If our children should live to see the next century; if my daughters should be so lucky to live as long as Ann Nixon Cooper, what change will they see? What progress will we have made?

This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment. This is our time — to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American Dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth that out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope, and where we are met with cynicism, and doubt, and those who tell us that we can't, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people: Yes, we can.

As a rhetorical device, the repetition of “yes we can” worked well and he deserves credit also for the skill with which it was delivered; few US politicians since Ronald Reagan (1911-2004, US president 1981-1989) have shown such a flair for timing and effect and Reagan had the advantage of decades of practice under the tutelage of some of the best film directors.  But in office, reality bit and Obama soon understood why so many of his predecessors had commented that one surprise as president was how difficult it was to get anything done and the more that involved change, the harder it was.  On the night, “yes we can” thrilled many but among Republicans and even some factions in his own party, the spirit was somewhere between “no we probably shouldn’t” and “no we won’t”.  Still, he may have convinced himself because in his farewell address in Chicago in January 2017 he reprised “yes we can” before pausing for effect and adding “…yes we did”.  Dutifully, the audience applauded.

Soda agnostic Lindsay Lohan with (clockwise from top left) can of Rehab, can of Coca-Cola, can of Red Bull, Can of Pink Ginseng, can of Sunkist Soda & can of Pepsi Cola.  The car in the "Rehab" shot is a 2006 Mercedes-Benz SL 65 (R230; 2004-2011) which, flachkühlered, would later feature in the tabloids after a low-speed crash.

In the matter of can & may.

"Can" and "may" are modal verbs and the grammar Nazis police their use with some relish and for those who care about such things, there are frequent instances of misuse.  Can & may are sometimes interchangeable: just about anywhere on the planet it can at some time rain but it’s as correct to say it may at some time rain.  In some cases too, neither can nor may might be the appropriate word to use even if both are grammatically correct:  It’s really not helpful to ask: “Can I believe anything said by crooked Hillary Clinton?” or “May I believe anything said by crooked Hillary Clinton?” because the better choice is “Should I believe anything said by crooked Hillary Clinton?”  The answer is of course: “No”.  Still, the general principle is “can” is used of possibilities and “may” of permissions”, illustrated by the companion sentences “I can swim” & “May I go swimming”.  One of the quirks of English which may account for some the undue popularity of “can” is that while can’t has since the eighteen century been one of the language’s most commonly used contractions, “mayn’t is listed by most authorities as rare or archaic (though extinct might more reflect reality).  That was probably because can’t more effortlessly rolls from the tongue.

Campbell's Soup Cans (1962), acrylic with metallic enamel paint on canvas by Andy Warhol (1928–1987).

One of the landmarks of pop-art, Warhol’s Campbell's Soup Cans (1962), is a piece which depends for its effect, not on its content but its intent and there was a randomness of chance in the choice of subject.  The artist explained it by revealing for some twenty years he’d been having a can of the stuff for his lunch, thereby accounting for the motif of “the same thing over and over again”, a idea he’d reprise with variations for the rest of his life.  Had his habit been to enjoy sardines for lunch instead, the painting would have looked different but the meaning would not have changed.  It’s was also an coincidence of capitalism that 32 cans appear, that happening because at the time the company offered that many flavors but had they offered 36, the work would have contained that many.  Presumably, had the range been 29, 31 or some other number symmetrically more challenging things might have differed in detail but the concept would have survived.  Repeating the nearly identical image, the canvases stress the uniformity and ubiquity of the product’s packaging and subvert the idea of painting as a medium of invention and originality.  Although pop-art had at the time a newness about it, Campbell's Soup Cans was another step in the path art had taken since 1917 when Marcel Duchamp (1887–1968) had submitted a porcelain urinal for display in an art gallery, his purpose being to have people question whether art was defined by what it was or the context in which it appeared.  Does anything become art if it's put in an art gallery?  It was an confronting question and we’ve been living with its implications since, none more so than Ted Cruz (b 1970; US senator (Republican-Texas) since 2013), cans of "Campbell's Big'n Chunky Soup" his favorite food.  In 2016 he told US Weekly: "When I'm away from the family, in Washington DC, my dinner is a can of soup.  I have dozens in the pantry" and in that count he may be being untypically modest; his wife revealed that after their honeymoon, he returned from a trip to the grocery store with (literally) 100 cans. 

Campbell's Soup (Limited Editions).

On several occasions, the Campbell brand has taken advantage of the famous association and produced editions of soup cans with Warhol style labels complete with the artist's printed signature.  The first two runs used color schemes close to those which appeared in the 1962 work but the most recent was rather more garish with some changes to the layout.  A notable difference was the customers weren’t required to purchase 32, the cans sold individually.  In a development which Warhol would doubtless have applauded, the cans soon appeared on sites like eBay for three figure US$ sums, a healthy appreciation for their original RRP between US$1-2.