Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Emoji. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Emoji. Sort by date Show all posts

Friday, September 23, 2022

Emoji

Emoji (pronounced ih-moh-jee)

In digital technology, a small digital picture or pictorial symbol that represents a thing, feeling, concept etc, used in text messages and other electronic communications, now usually as part of a standardized set.  Technically an emoji is a digital graphic icon with a unique code point.

1999: From a creation in Japanese translating literally as “pictograph”, the construct being e- (picture, drawing) + moji (written character or letter).  In the original Japanese it’s 絵文字 (えもじ, emoji), the construct being 絵 (え (e, (picture)) + 文字 (もじ (moji) (character).

Proto emojis: Puck Magazine 1881.

Because of a cross-lingual phonetic coincidence, emoji is often thought related to the word emotion, a natural connection because it’s emotions that emojis are now used to convey.  That was the connection with the emoji’s predecessor, the emoticon, the concept of text-based symbols being used to replace certain instances of formal language.  The first codified form of the emoticon set was released in 1982 and used the standard ASCII (American Standard Code for Information Interchange) character set assembled to represent ideas as images ((*_*) being a face, : ( sadness, : (( extreme sadness etc).  The idea wasn’t new, various punctuation marks used for hundreds of years in a similar manner, including in newspapers and books, but there had never been any standardization except that which existed by agreement between regular correspondents although, in 1881, American magazine Puck published four symbols which could be used to convey joy, melancholy, indifference, and astonishment.  Assembled using standard shapes from mechanical type-setting, Puck probably either created or at least legitimized what came to be called typographical art.



The idea of localised conventions would later appeal to a community using a common means of communication with a closed character set: Morse Code operators who devised their own convenient shorthand, a set of numbers transmitted by a short series of dots and dashes, which all understood represented longer strings of text, commonly used messages including:

1- Wait a moment

4- Where shall I go ahead?

6- I am ready

7- Are you ready?

8- Close your key; circuit is busy

12- Do you understand?

13- I understand

24- Repeat this back

27- Priority, very important

29- Private, deliver in sealed envelope.

73- Best regards

88- Love and kisses

92- Deliver promptly

The concept is exactly the same as the part of the algorithm used by data compression programs (ZIP and others) whereby small values are used to represent (and replace) larger ones, hence the ability to compress file-size.  The pragmatic Morse operator's list was mostly business-like, focused on transmitting the most information with the fewest taps but there were a couple more romantic: 73 meant “best regards” and 88 “love and kisses”, both of which would become stalwarts in the world of emoticons and emojis.

Lindsay Lohan Emojis.

The idea of the emoticon, still a disparate thing without standards, began to coalesce in the 1990s, Microsoft bundling the wingdings truetype font with Windows and by the middle of the decade, the first SMS (short message services) products, the protocols for which had evolved as part of the GSM (Global System for Mobile Communications) standards, were released.  Strange as it may sound in an age when SMS messages number annually in the trillions, the take-up rate was initially slow but growth was soon exponential.  Screen-focused, emoticons were always integral to SMS.

Shigetaka Kurita’s 1999 DoCoMo emoji set.

While not the first emoji set, that being a plain black collection included with the Japanese J-Phone in 1997, it’s Shigetaka Kurita’s (b 1972) release in 1999 which is the first notable landmark.  Interestingly, reflecting the intention to make communication more efficient on NTT DoCoMo's business-oriented cellular platform, apart from some hearts (intact and broken), the 176 in the set didn’t include many to convey emotion, although in the abstract, the one representing a beer glass was often used to suggest “I need a drink”.  The beginnings were modest, reflecting both the hardware and the mobile networks of the time; although bright, each was rendered in a single color and the bitmapped shape was blocky but the range and definition constantly improved to the point where, unlike emoticons, emojis really are pictures rather than typographic approximations and this has influenced the use of the word, "emoji" now sometimes applied to just about any small picture in any digital context.

A splash of vomit emojis.

In the English-speaking world, critical mass in terms of adoption was reached in 2012, the year after Apple added an official set to the iOS keyboard, Android following in 2014 when KitKat was released.  Apple had included emojis in the Japanese releases of iOS since 2008 and may have been tempted to extend availability when it became apparent how many hacks existed to gain the feature on devises using other languages.  What made that viable was emoji, in 2010, being standardized by Unicode (the non-profit consortium which maintains text standards on digital devices globally) which meant emojis could be sent and received by any device, regardless of operating system or platform.  By then, the standard set had grown to almost a thousand.  The Unicode Consortium has been busy ever since, creating an emoji subcommittee which has so much business to transact it meets at least weekly and their output has been prodigious: by September 2021, over 3,600 emojis had been approved, 112 in the last release alone.

Crooked Hillary Clinton emoji.

A character set in the thousands and growing has however changed the nature of the emoji as a language supplement, it once being possible to know them all and rely on many others also knowing most.  With so many, it’s become just another language, a system where every user has their own sub-set and analysis of traffic suggests for most this can be just a handful and even among devotees it’s rare for them regularly to display a vocabulary of more than a few dozen.  While, as a medium of meaning, the emoji does depend on an intuitive understanding of appearance, if some are too weird or mysterious, there is Emojipedia, an on-line emoji reference which documents changes and definitions and EmojiTranslate is a website where the translation of text to emoji (and vice versa) is handled.  Even that isn’t enough to satisfy the evidentiary standards of courts in some jurisdictions, accredited translators now sometimes used to translate the meaning of emojis where material using them is tendered in evidence.  Emoji is just another language and something in one cultural context can mean something else in another, the meaning the sender implied perhaps the opposite of what the receiver inferred.  On the basis of established principles such as “reasonable doubt” or “balance of probabilities”, courts must decide.

The New Yorker, 30 March 2015.

Out in the world of the emoji freaks, books have been written using nothing but emojis, a concept not new.  In the 1990s, one pop-music journalist, displeased at the quality of an interview with a singer he was about to publish, rendered the whole thing in the zaph dingbat font (which in professional typesetting had existed since the 1970s), rendering it an illegible cryptogram to all except those who had memorized the mapping of the font.  Such people do exist but they’re rare and it’s not clear if the writer succeeded in his aim to make more interesting a boring interview.  One magazine to find a novel use was the fine New Yorker which, in 2015, ran a cover featuring Crooked Hillary Clinton emojis when discussing the mail server affair, one of the many scandals attached to her although, they unfortunately resisted the temptation to integrate a delete key into one.  Perhaps inspired, in her presidential campaign, crooked Hillary tried to weaponize the emoji in a tweet aimed at a younger demographic but received quite a backlash for doing something so obviously cynical; inauthentic being the modern term.

The work of the consortium has also been cognizant of forces operating more widely.  In 2014, they began to address the lack of racial and gender DEI (diversity, equity and inclusion) in the little images, the population disproportionately male and white, a distortion of reality hardly appropriate in what was to some degree one of the world’s global languages.  In this they were later than some; in 2012, the ever-woke Apple included in iOS 6 several emojis of same-sex couples.  Although all were shown holding hands, they didn’t look any happier than their more traditional predecessors but there are limitations with what can be achieved on such a tiny digital canvas.  In another sign of the times, over the years, guns morphed into less threatening water-pistols.  Perhaps strangely, the pandemic didn’t produce a flood of corona-themed images, Apple’s set still the only of the majors to include something recognizably SARS-Cov-2ish.  Still, there's plenty of time, world emoji day is 17 July and COVID-19, unlike some of us, is expected to be alive and well for many Julys to come.

Wednesday, June 7, 2023

React

React (pronounced ree-akt)

(1) To act in response to an agent or influence.

(2) To act reciprocally upon each other, as two things.

(3) To act in opposition, as against some force.

(4) To respond to a stimulus in a particular manner.

(5) In physics, to exert an equal force in the opposite direction to an acting force; to act in a reverse direction or manner, especially so as to return to a prior condition.

(6) In chemistry, to act upon each other; to exercise a reciprocal or a reverse effect, as two or more chemical agents; to act in opposition.

(7) In chemistry, to cause or undergo a chemical reaction.

(8) In the hyphenated form re-act, to act or again perform.

(9) To return an impulse or impression; in Internet use, to post a reaction (now often in the form of an emoji), indicating how one feels about a posted message.

1635–1645: From the early Modern English react (to exert, as a thing acted upon, an opposite action upon the agent).  The construct was re- + act, thought to have been modeled on the Medieval Latin reagere, the construct being re- + agere (to drive, to do).  Act was from the Middle English acte, from the Old French acte, from the Latin ācta (register of events), the plural of āctum (decree, law), from agere (to do, to act), ultimately from the primitive Indo-European ǵeti and related to the German Akte (file); it partially displaced deed, from the Old English dǣd (act, deed) which endured and (especially in law), flourished in parallel.  The re- prefix was from the Middle English re-, from the circa 1200 Old French re-, from the Latin re- & red- (back; anew; again; against), from the primitive Indo-European wre & wret- (again), a metathetic alteration of wert- (to turn).  It displaced the native English ed- & eft-.  A hyphen is not normally included in words formed using this prefix, except when the absence of a hyphen would (1) make the meaning unclear, (2) when the word with which the prefix is combined begins with a capital letter, (3) when the word with which the is combined with begins with another “re”, (4) when the word with which the prefix is combined with begins with “e”, (5) when the word formed is identical in form to another word in which re- does not have any of the senses listed above.  As late as the early twentieth century, the dieresis was sometimes used instead of a hyphen (eg reemerge) but this is now rare except when demanded for historic authenticity or if there’s an attempt deliberately to affect the archaic.  Re- may (and has) been applied to almost any verb and previously irregular constructions appear regularly in informal use; the exception is all forms of “be” and the modal verbs (can, should etc).  Although it seems certain the origin of the Latin re- is the primitive Indo-European wre & wret- (which has a parallel in Umbrian re-), beyond that it’s uncertain and while it seems always to have conveyed the general sense of "back" or "backwards", there were instances where the precise was unclear and the prolific productivity in Classical Latin tended make things obscure.  The Latin prefix rĕ- was from the Proto-Italic wre (again) and had a parallel in the Umbrian re- but the etymology was always murky.   In use, there was usually at least the hint of the sense "back" or "backwards" but so widely was in used in Classical Latin and beyond that the exact meaning is sometimes not clear.  Etymologists suggest the origin lies either in (1) a metathesis (the transposition of sounds or letters in a word) of the primitive Indo-European wert- (to turn) or (2) the primitive Indo-European ure- (back), which was related to the Proto-Slavic rakъ (in the sense of “looking backwards”).

The hyphenated form re-act (to act or again perform) began to develop during the 1650s (although the hyphen wasn’t de rigueur for decades) and there’s evidence to suggest there was often either an exaggerated pronunciation of the “re-“ or a slight pause between syllables to distinguish it from react.  Forms like overreact & overreaction (1928), interreact, interreaction (1820s), reactivate (1902 & reactivation etc were coined as required.  React is a noun & verb, reactive is an adjective, reactor, reaction & reactant are nouns, reactionary is a noun & adjective, reactivate, reacted & reacting are verbs,; the noun plural is reacts.

Lindsay Lohan reacting, demonstrating her emotional range (left to right:  happy, surprised, terrified and despairing).

The noun reactant (a reacting thing) came from chemistry and dates from 1901; as an adjective it was noted in the literature by 1911 although it may have been in oral use for some time and the noun reactance had been in the vocabulary of science since at least 1893.  The noun reactor (one that reacts) was a standard entry in the books of Latin instruction by 1825 but came into common use in the electrical industry after 1915 to describe “coil or other piece of equipment which provides reactance in a circuit”.  The word is now most commonly associated with nuclear energy, the reactor technically the component in a power-plant, submarine etc, where the nuclear reactions are contained but in the popular imagination often used of the power-generating installations to describe the entire facility.  The adjective reactive dates from 1712 in the sense of “a repercussive, echoing” although that use is long obsolete.  It was re-purposed in the early nineteenth century to mean “caused by a reaction” and by 1888 as “susceptible to (chemical) reaction” and in chemistry the related forms were reactively, reactiveness & reactivity, the words required as new chemicals and elements were subjected to experiments determining the behavior when exposed to others.

The noun reaction (action in resistance or response to another action or power), although later much used in chemistry, dates from the language of physics & dynamics in the 1640s and came frequently to be seen in discussions of politics and international relations.  It was modeled on the French réaction, from the older Italian reattione, from the Medieval Latin reactionem (nominative reactio), a noun of action formed in Late Latin from the past-participle stem of Latin reagere.  In chemistry it was of course invaluable when describing “a mutual or reciprocal action of chemical agents upon each other” and it was the standard noun thus used by 1836.  The more general sense of "action or feeling in response" (to something said, an event etc) was from the early twentieth century.  The phrase reaction time (time elapsing between the action of an external stimulus and the giving of a signal in reply) was a creation of experimental science and first documented in 1874; it was later widely used (both as a precise measure and something indicative) in fields as varied as zoology, sport and electoral behavior.  Sometimes, the experiments to measure reaction times were conducted in a reaction chamber.

Porträt des Klemens Wenzel Nepomuk Lothar, Prince of Metternich-Winneburg zu Beilstein in Ritterorden des Godenen vlies (cerimonial robes of the Order of the Golden Fleece) (1836), oil on canvas by Johann Nepomuk Ender (1793-1854).

The adjective reactionary (of or pertaining to political reaction, tending to revert from a more to a less advanced policy) dates from 1831 and was on the model of the French réactionnaire.  It was part of Karl Marx's (1818-1883) standard set of descriptive terms by 1858, used to convey the idea of “tending toward reversing existing tendencies” and was the opposite of the ”revolutionary”.  The classic reactionary era is now that created by the Congress of Vienna (1514-1815) when the old monarchies contrived to ensure they wouldn’t again be threatened by something like the French Revolution (1789).  So dominant did the use in politics become that the use in science (of or pertaining to a chemical or other reaction) became rare.  In political science, the term reactionary is applied with rather more precision than in general use where, like fascist, it’s tended to become a general term of disapprobation for those who espouse an opposing view.  When applied with some academic rigor, it refers properly to the view that a previous political state of society is desirable and that action should be taken to return to those arrangements.  A reactionary is thus different from a conservative who wishes to keep things as they are but perhaps (at least sometimes) synonymous with ultra-conservative or arch-conservative, the classic example in politics being Prince Klemens von Metternich (1773–1859; foreign minister or chancellor of the Austrian Empire 1809-1848) who constructed an intricate model of Europe which was design to avoid another unpleasantness (for the ruling class) like the French revolution (1789) and its aftermath.  It’s usually thought of as somewhere on the spectrum of conservatism although there are logical (as well as linguistic) problems with that and either in theory or historic practice, reactionary ideologies, although radical, haven’t always been the most extreme of the breed.  Even that sort of terminology wasn’t reliably indicative of anything except what the author intended, Sir Garfield Barwick (1903–1997; Chief Justice of Australia 1964-1981) giving his autobiography the title A Radical Tory (1995), a few reviewers enjoying the opportunity to point out he was neither.

Thou shalt not: Pope Pius IX and friends.

In the UK there were of course already the Tories but it was the French Revolution from which English gained the descriptors "conservative", "right-wing" and "reactionary".  Conservative was from the French conservateur and was applied to those deputies of the French assembly which supported the monarchy (ie they wish to conserve that which was).  The term right-wing came to be used because when the Estates General was summoned in 1789, liberal deputies (the Third Estate) sat usually to left of the presiding officer's chair while the (variously usually either conservative or reactionary) members of the aristocracy (the Second Estate) sat to the right (the clerics were the First Estate and it’s from here is derived the later idea of the press as the Fourth Estate).  Reactionary was from the late eighteenth century French réactionnaire (from réaction (reaction)) and was used to denote "a ideology directed to return the structure of the state and the operation of society to a previous condition of affairs".  The Oxford English Dictionary (OED) dates the first use of the word in English to 1799 and political scientists have managed to coin variations like reactionist and even the (thankfully rare) reactionaryism.  In theology, the classic reactionary was Pope Pius IX (Giovanni Maria Mastai Ferretti, 1792–1878; pope 1846-1878) who in 1864 published Syllabus Errorum (Syllabus of Errors), a still controversial document which listed all the ideas of modernity which His Holiness thought most appalling and which should be abandoned because the old ways are the best.  Had he lived, his Holiness would have noted with approval the entry in that manual curmudgeons, Henry Fowler's (1858–1933) A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926): "The word derives its pejorative sense from the conviction, once firmly held but now badly shaken, that all progress is necessarily good."

Friday, July 17, 2026

Witch

Witch (pronounced wich)

(1) A person, historically either male or female but now especially a woman, who professes or is supposed to practice magic or sorcery; a sorceress (especially popular in mythology and fiction but also associated with certain societies and historical periods and still current in some countries).

(2) In the weird world of the "new age movement", a practitioner of a nature-based religion founded on ancient beliefs, which honors both a male and female divine principle and includes the practice of magic (associated especially with healing).

(3) An informal and derogatory term for an ugly, mean or wicked old woman; a hag.

(4) Used selectively, a fascinating or enchanting woman (usually in the (figurative) sense of "bewitching").

(5) A person who uses a divining rod; dowser (archaic).

(6) In the sense of "witch-hunt", an intensive effort to discover and expose disloyalty, subversion, dishonesty or the like, based usually on slight, doubtful, or irrelevant evidence.

(7) A flatfish, Pleuronectes (or Glyptocephalus) cynoglossus, of North Atlantic coastal waters, having a narrow greyish-brown body marked with tiny black spots.  The family group is Pleuronectidae (plaice, flounders etc)

(8) In geometry, a certain curve of the third order, also known as versiera.

(9) In entomology, the Indomalayan butterfly Araotes lapithis, of the Lycaenidae family.

Pre 900: From the Middle English wicche from the Old English wicce (sorceress, witch (female)), the feminine forms existing in conjunction with wicca (witch, sorcerer, wizard), the masculine deverbative from wiccian (to practice sorcery) from the Proto-Germanic wikkōną.  Related were the West Frisian wikje, wikke (to foretell, warn), the Low German wicken (to soothsay) and the Dutch wikken, wichelen (to dowse, divine).  Root was the primitive Indo-European wik-néh, derivation of weyk- (to consecrate; separate); akin to the Latin victima (sacrificial victim), the Swedish vicka (to move to and fro), the Lithuanian viẽkas (life-force) and the Sanskrit विनक्ति (vinákti) (to set apart, separate out).  Witch, witchcraft, witcher & witchery are nouns; witching is a verb & adjective and witchy is an adjective, the noun plural is witches.

The homophones “witch” & “which” are yet another pair that must make those learning English wonder how a language with so many curious anomalies became something of the planet’s lingua franca.  Which was from the Middle English which, hwic, wilche, hwilch, whilk & hwilc, from the Old English hwelċ (which), from the Proto-Germanic hwilīkaz (literally “like what” and used in the sense of “what kind”), from hwaz.  It was cognate with the Scots whilk, the West Frisian hokker, the Dutch welk, the Low German welk, the German welcher, the Danish hvilken, the Swedish vilken, the Norwegian hvilken and the Icelandic hvílíkur, all of which convey the sense of the English “which”.  “Which” is used (1) as an interrogative (seeking a choice from a limited number or group implied to be a closed set), (2) as a relative pronoun (either adding introducing clauses or referring to a whole statement or (3) as conditional or indefinite (whichever) operator used to mean any one or whichever option from a group.

An illustrative example was Sir Robert Menzies (1894–1978; Prime Minister of Australia 1939-1941 & 1949-1966) leaving a cocktail party after having been introduced to a number of visiting dignitaries from the Balkans, confessing to his companion he’d be unlikely to recall: “which ‘vitch’ was which”.  In English, the choice between “that” and “which” often baffles but the convention is “that” is used when introducing a restrictive (essential) clause and “which” when the clause is non-restrictive.  To illustrate that (1): “The car that has the red interior is mine” (the clause identifies which car) and (2) “The car, which has a red interior, is mine” (identity of car already certain).  However, “which vs that” is more a convention of style than a hard grammatical “law” and a handy rule of thumb is (1) if “that” can be removed from a sentence without compromising meaning, it should be removed, (2) if a comma exists, use “which” and (3) if there’s no comma, used “that”.  That will please most people most of the time.

An obviously guilty witch haranguing the court, lithograph of a witch trial in Salem, Massachusetts, circa 1692.

The OED (Oxford English Dictionary) does note the generally accepted etymology is not without phonetic or semantic difficulties and suggests some connection with the Old English wigle (divination) and wig & wih (idol), the nouns representing a Proto-Germanic wikkjaz (necromancer) (one who wakes the dead) from the primitive Indo-European weg-yo from weg (to be strong, be lively).  That wicce once had a more specific sense than the later general one of "female magician, sorceress" is suggested by the presence of other words in Old English describing more specific kinds of magical craft.  “Witch doctor” is from circa 1715; from the mid 1830s it was applied to African “healers by means of spells & potions”, soon becoming interchangeable with “medicine man”.  The fear of witches and witchcraft is described as wiccaphobia and neither phobia nor subject has ever been mentioned in the APA’s (American Psychiatric Association) DSM (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) although that’s not unusual, the DSM not listing phobias as distinct diagnostic identities but instead providing diagnostic criteria for categorizing phobias listed under five headings: (1) animal type, (2) natural environment type, (3) blood-injection-injury type, (4) situational type & (5) other types.  Depending on the patient's circumstances, a clinician presumably would place their wiccaphobia in either (4) or (5).

Poster for the movie Warlock (1989).  In Hollywood, warlocks are men and witches are women.

However, although "witchcraft" and "witch" may not appear in the DSM, both terms did once make frequent appearances in the literature of medicine and psychiatry.  Historically, at least some of those accused of practicing witchcraft in the Middle Ages and early modern period are thought to have been experiencing conditions such as severe depression, epilepsy, or psychosis; rather than being condemned as witches, they’d now be diagnosed with a neurological or mental illnesses.  In the modern era, clinicians are trained to detect the difference between true psychotic delusions (a manifestation of irrational phobias) and beliefs a product of cultural or religious conditioning.  Sometimes seriously and sometimes less so, there have been scholars and other critics (including ex-patients) of modern psychiatry who have compared the DSM to the old “witch-hunting” texts, the classic example the Malleus Maleficarum.  Written by German Dominican friar and inquisitor Heinrich Kramer (circa 1430-1505), the widely-read treatise Malleus Maleficarum (Hammer of Witches, 1487), not only described the rituals of witchcraft but was also a manual for the identification of witches, documenting methods by which their guilt could be proven (as a prelude to execution).  Scholars now regard Malleus Maleficarum not as original but a kind of “review of the classics” and a codification of many previous works but the publication long exerted much influence on the witch trials of the early modern period.  Kramer was on sound theological and political ground because early as the tenth century the Church had published Canon Episcopi (Canon Law) in which it was made explicit witchcraft and magic were delusions and practitioners (or even believers) were suffering “possession by the Devil”.

To gain a flavour of the Malleus Maleficarum, consider the representative extract: “What else is woman but a foe to friendship, an inescapable punishment, a necessary evil, a natural temptation, a desirable calamity, a domestic danger, a delectable detriment, an evil of nature, painted in fair colors...The word woman is used to mean the lust of the flesh, as it is said: I have found a woman more bitter than death, and a good woman more subject to carnal lust...Women are naturally more impressionable...Women are intellectually like children...She is more carnal than a man, as is clear from her many carnal abominations...Therefore a wicked woman is by her nature quicker to waver in her faith, and consequently quicker to abjure the faith, which is the root of witchcraft...  One does suspect copies of the Malleus Maleficarum might sit well-thumbed on the bedside tables of Talibs in Kabul and ayatollahs in Tehran.  They know the old ways are best.

The old ways are best: Malleus Maleficarum.

The comparison between Malleus Maleficarum and the DSM is the claim both are guidebooks used by an elite to label and classify nonconformity or social deviance as “abnormal” and thus to be “treated” (sometimes by incarceration).  Structuralists note one interesting aspect of this is the “imprimatur of veracity” provided by the written word, both Kramer’s text and the DSM gaining their authority from being hefty published works.  While Malleus Maleficarum faded from use, the DSM’s seven decade evolution from DSM-I (1952: 130 pages listing 106 mental disorders) to DSM-5-TR (2022: 1152 pages and 298 disorders) has been one of increasing influence to the point that, in the minds of many, it is definitive.  The “mission creep” of the DSM has attracted comment and while whether there’s now “more madness” or what there now is more readily identified and better treated can be debated, the growth of the profession also accounts for some of the spread, doctors sometimes in demarcation disputes about who gets to treat whom: With each addition to the DSM the psychiatrists get to stake their claim to another market segment and in the twenty-first century, the DSM seems as canonical a text as was Malleus Maleficarum in the sixteenth.

Nylon, 30 January, 2015.

In 2015, Nylon ran the story Lindsay Lohan had taken up witchcraft and wished to be consecrated by a coven as a white witch.  Nylon did caution the source of the story was the National Enquirer, a publication sometimes referred to as a NRS (normally reliable source) with some irony; a representative for Ms Lohan released a statement denying she practiced witchcraft.  Published continuously since 1926, since the early 2000s the National Enquirer has been a good source of Lohanic content, coverage extending to her weight (suggestions of anorexia during thin phase), driving history (patchy), being stalked by the Freemasons (verified), feuds (frequent), legal issues (since resolved), family squabbles (legion), hair care (highly recommended), shoe & handbag collections (much envied) and, of course, aspiration to be admitted to a coven of witches (dubious).  

Women being burned at the stake (circa 1580), engraving by Dutch illustrator Jan Luyken (1649–1712).  Widely practiced in parts of Europe, in England, burnings at the stake tended to be restricted to those convicted of heresy, convicted witches usually hanged (if they survived the various "trials by ordeal" used to establish guilt).

The glossary of the Laws of Ælfred (circa 890) translates the Latin necromantia (demonum invocatio) as galdre or wiccecræft and in the Anglo-Saxon poem Men's Crafts, wiccræft appears to mean "skill with horses" so the OED is right to note the contested history but, in the history of the British Isles, the mention in the Laws of Ælfred of witchcraft being exclusively female activity is unique although that sense clearly endured and by the early 1600s, the feminine form was so dominant that the forms "men-witches" or "he-witches" came into use.  Warlock was never a universally accepted masculine form of witch despite the notion in modern popular culture and it’s from wicca that English ultimately gained both wizard and wicked.  Even in the sixteenth century, the implications were blurred, Reginald Scot in his The Discoverie of Witchcraft (1584) asserting it was synonymous in the English tongue to say either “she is a witch” or “she is a wise woman”.  In the popular imagination there's still a widespread perception witches were burned at the stake and while that was the case in many places (along with other methods of dispatch), in the English-speaking world, because witchcraft was a felony in both England and the American colonies, witches were hanged and not burned.  Witches’ bodies were burned in Scotland, although, just to be sure, they were first strangled to death.  The confusion may have arisen because there were cases of witches being burned at the stake but that was because they'd been convicted also of heresy.

Crooked Hillary Clinton (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013) has never denied practicing witchcraft (digitally altered image).

The extended sense of “young woman or girl of bewitching aspect or manners” was in use by at least 1740 and although that sense has been used both admiringly (of “feminine charms) and as a warning (of the power of a seductress over men) it seems now usually positive and of “ways & means” rather than merely the Paris Hiltonesque “hot”.  It’s certainly more encouraging than the use in the Old Testament in which appears מְכַשֵּׁפָה (mekhashshepheh, in the Hebrew the feminine term for an “enchantress or sorceress”.  The word was from the root כשף (kashaph) and used to refer to those who whispered mystic formulas or cast spells, antics that attracted one of the more famous (and consequential) biblical injunctions: “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.” (Exodus 22:18; King James Version of the Bible (KJV, 1611)).  A similar condemnation also appears in Deuteronomy 18:10-12:

10 There shall not be found among you any one that maketh his son or his daughter to pass through the fire, or that useth divination, or an observer of times, or an enchanter, or a witch.

11 Or a charmer, or a consulter with familiar spirits, or a wizard, or a necromancer.

12 For all that do these things are an abomination unto the Lord: and because of these abominations the Lord thy God doth drive them out from before thee.

The verseThou shalt not suffer a witch to live” echoed through time, the Mosaic legal decree held to command the execution of those practicing sorcery or illicit magic.  In the archaic English of the KJV, “suffer” means “allow or permit”, thus the understanding “Do not allow a sorceress to live”.  However, scripture is open to interpretation and, for thousands of years, priests, theologians (amateur & professional), lawyers and charlatans (there’s some overlap between those categories) have done exactly that and adding to the tangle is the history of variations in translation and meaning-shifts in words.  In the ancient Septuagint (a translation in Ancient Greek), the Hebrew word was translated as pharmakos (a brewer of lethal potions, drugs, or poisons) leading some scholars argue the verse targeted “dark herbalists” (ie those who literally mixed poisons) while others held this was metaphorical and still explicitly proscribed (on pain of death) supernatural sorcery.  The latter (harsher) view is more in accord with the spirit of Deuteronomy in which it was made clear all must follow the teachings in the tradition of the prophet Moses, meaning all divination and magical techniques of enquire must be eliminated on the grounds such things were “spiritual treason”.  For the ancient Israelites, spells and magical incantations were attempts to bypass God's authority by manipulating spiritual forces or a summoning of pagan deities, sorcery thus a form of idolatry that threatened the purity of the community.  Of course the commentaries have always emphasised execution of transgressors must be judicial with the accused granted due process; neither in Exodus or Deuteronomy is licence granted for vigilantism or mob justice.

The historical legacy of Exodus 22:18 was profound and lingered long in Western culture.  It was James I (1566–1625;King of England 1603-1625) who commissioned the translation still influential as the KJV and he was a religious zealot both fearful of and somewhat obsessed with the dangers in witchcraft; translating mekhashepha specifically as “witch” reinforced the secular laws of his time and on both sides of the Atlantic, European inquisitors and American Puritans alike, cited Exodus 22:18 as the primary biblical justification to hunt, torture, and execute thousands (mostly women) accused of witchcraft.  Delivered mostly by the European colonialists, scripture (often selectively quoted) spread to other continents and to this day, Akan Christians in Ghana justify praying for the death and destruction of witches and wizards of the basis of “not suffering witches to live”.  In some places where the scriptural condemnation of witches became better embedded in culture than the companion notion of "due process before punishment", mobs not infrequently assemble and kill those accused of witchcraft, parts of Africa and PNG (Papua New Guinea) especially afflicted.  In some cases the killings are opportunistic and based on other motives including "blood feuds" and economics, inconvenient wives sometimes murdered so a family can gain title to her land.      

Peter Dutton, seemingly in one of his more cheerful moods, carrying volume one (of three) of his enemies list (volume two including a number of MFWs).

In Australia, Peter Dutton (b 1970; leader of the opposition and leader of the Australian Liberal Party 2022-2025) had something of an unfortunate history with text messages (SMS, short message service) including sending one calling a journalist a “mad fucking witch”.  Unfortunately, he sent the "MFW text" to the target of his thoughts (Samantha Maiden (b 1972)) but, fortunately, the witch worked for Liberal Party supervisor Rupert Murdoch (b 1931) and thus had to cop it sweet which, with some aplomb, the witch did, even complimenting Mr Dutton for having been a minister who had made "a great contribution to government" (one way of putting things).  Mr Dutton's SMS was especially interesting because there's an extensively documented library of the links between Freemasonry and witchcraft and, despite many opportunities, Mr Dutton has never denied being a Freemason.  Whether it can be said Mr Dutton’s truly made "a great contribution to government" (examples don't readily come to mind), in coining mad fucking witch” he certainly made a notable contribution to the political lexicon and, unlike most of what he said and did over his well-remunerated decades in public life, the phrase proved enduring, albeit as an “unintended consequence”.  Hopefully, Dutton fangirl Samantha Maiden will one day publish Peter Dutton: The Man, the Myth, the Legend (illustrated) and all his great contributions finally will be documented.

In Australia, MFW (Mad Fucking Witches) is a political pressure group targeting media figures usually described as “right wing” and although the label can be misleading, those attracting the attention of the MFW generally are port of the “populist vibe”, a movement not sympathetic to the “progressive” issues though the preserve of the (again nominal) “left wing”.  The MFW approach comes from the playbook of BDS (boycott, divestment & sanctionsthe original a Palestinian-led global campaign, launched in 2005 as a kind of “commercial intifada” using non-violent economic, cultural, and political pressure to protest against Israel's occupation of what it defined as “Arab lands”, discrimination against Palestinian citizens and denial of the rights of refugees (from the wars of 1948, 1967 etc) to return) community and their preferred tactic since 2016 has been the “collective boycott”, a technique in which companies are pressured not to advertise on programmes or outlets that have attracted their disapproval.  So it’s an attempt at a kind of censorship but the MFW’s stated position is those using the media to advocate, support or at least “dog whistle” world views such as “sexism, racism, homophobia, transphobia, and all forms of hate and bigotry” should not tolerated and have no right to claim the protection of the liberal concept of “free speech”.  Potential MFW supporters should note the coven's position is both men and women can be consecrated as witches and it'll be interesting to see if a kind of “anti-MFW” emerges from the  “manosphere” (a MFW enemy) as the “Mad Fucking Warlocks”.  On X (previously known as Twitter), #witches-vs-warlocks would be a battle worth following; Andrew Tate III (b 1986), described as the manosphere's "high priest of toxic masculinity", currently has pressing legal issues with which to deal but maybe one day he'll have time to devote to attacking the MFWs.   

MFW merchandise.  Rupert Murdoch too has feelings and must find the T-shirts hurtful.  Those concerned should send him an appropriate emoji.  

Presumably the MFW wouldn’t claim the quote attributed to French philosopher Voltaire (François-Marie Arouet; 1694–1778): “I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it” is “wrong” but, on the basis “one has to draw the line somewhere” (a dictum with a long history in “free speech” matters), would maintain it is “wrong” for corporations financially to support individuals or media outlets disseminating “hate speech”.  Actually, the quote was a paraphrase of Voltaire’s views on the principle of freedom of speech and was coined by Evelyn Beatrice Hall (1868–1956, who used the pseudonym Stephen “S.G.” Tallentyre), appearing in her book The Friends of Voltaire (1906); whether that history is enough for the coven to deny Ms Hall the status of “honorary MFW” isn’t something discussed on their website (on which is merchandise available, including the “Fuck Murdoch” T-shirts made famous by #MeToo activist Grace Tame (b 1994 and at least a MFW fellow-traveller)).

The MFW will not be unaware of analysis suggesting at least some of the “hate spewing” commentators choose their content not out of political conviction but merely because it has proved the most lucrative and happily they’d shift to broadcasting something diametrically different if that path proved to be the “money trail”.  The outlets are in the business of producing a product (their audience) to sell (to advertisers) and if a bigger audience could be produced by running recordings of a philosopher and archbishop discussing the existence of God than what's generated by conspiracy theories and rants about this & that (immigrants, trans-people etc), that's what would be run.  However, the MFW is a coven of structural functionalists for whom motivation is irrelevant and what matters is content: “Every single advertiser who pays advertising dollars to a company which spreads dangerous anti-science rhetoric, hate speech, fake news and lies is complicit in the spread of that information … their responsibility is to ensure their money only goes to media organisations with morals and a social conscience.  Pleasingly for pattern theorists (harder than it sounds), both Donald Trump (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) and the MFW seek to eradicate “fake news” although while some of their methods may be similar, the definitions and targets differ.  The MFW has pledged also to “rid the world of authoritarianism”, possibly with Mr Trump in the coven’s collective thoughts.

The MFW doesn't issue a “call to arms”; the coven calls witches: To your brooms”.

Of course companies have for a long time been using either the withdrawal of advertising or the threat to do so as a weapon (sometimes deployed with subtlety, sometimes not) to influence “coverage of products” and governments have not been above directing their advertising to publications thought “sympathetic”.  There are terms for those methods but the MFW is an interesting case-study of the way blogs, social media and such have created a kind of “equivalency” between the new “micro-operations” and media outlets with storied histories in some cases dating back centuries.  What makes the MFW campaign(s) structurally different is they’re often focused on the “old media” of radio and terrestrial television, technologies possible only because they are licenced (by governments) exclusively to use a publicly-owned resource (the airwaves) and conditions are imposed on those so licenced, including the general concept of “responsible” use; many individuals and some institutions have views on the parameters of “responsible” (some even codifying things) and the MFW’s strident position is just one of many.  One “codified” document in Australia is commercial radio’s 31-page Code of Practice, a work highly-detailed, frequently ignored and often interpreted on the basis of: “Can we get away with it?”  The MFW have noted this and claim they exist only because the outlets refuse to “regulate themselves” and “regulators failing to discharge their statutory duties”.  Although there is something of the now familiar “agree with us or we’ll cancel you” approach about the MFW, many wish them success, not because they find their targets a political threat but because they’re such ghastly vulgarians. 

Witches and ditches

Witch of the Ditch on broomstick.

Early Reader’s paperback edition of the children's book The Witch of the Ditch by by Steven Butler, illustrated by Nigel Baines.  The early reader series uses a hybrid format in being “stepping stones” designed for children transitioning from picture books to text, the method being associative (illustrations the young reader can identify orally, presented alongside the relevant written word(s)). Appropriately deconstructed, the book is a tale of political conflict, triggered when one witch (Hag of the Crag) moves in next door to another (Witch of the Ditch).  As is notorious, there is in every town room only for one witch so things are not going to go well.  Politicians may be tempted to mine The Witch of the Ditch in the quest for new 3WSs (three word slogans) because that's how political discourse is now done and they’ll find encouraging the publisher’s blurb noting the title is for a “Reading age: 5-7 years”, about the level of comprehension they appear to think most voters have attained.

Ditch Witch at work.

Described by the manufacturer as “The fastest way to drill”, CEA’s Ditch Witch JT21 replaces the previous JT20, the design improvements said to have been “engineered with direct input from contractors and drillers in the field.”  Drills of all types (from the smallest able to put holes in nano-sized objects to the largest used to carve through solid granite when excavating tunnels) are arranged in classes and CEA claim the JT21 “sets a new benchmark for performance, speed, and control in compact drilling”, its “35% faster carriage speed” able to operate at a “blazing 215 feet (66 metres) per minute”, making it “the fastest drill in its class”.  One measure likely novel to those familiar with HP (horsepower) in other contexts is the concept of DHP (downhole horsepower), a measure of the specific efficiency delivered at the critical point (the drill bit); in that it’s analogous with RWHP (rear-wheel horsepower), the traditional metric used by dynamometers quantifying power and a measure more indicative of performance potential than GHP (gross horsepower, what a engine generates in its raw configuration) or NHP (net horsepower, measured with an engine’s accessories attached).  Certainly the Ditch Witch’s stated ratings (21,000 lbs of pullback, 20,000 lbs of thrust, and 2,250 ft-lbs of torque) sound impressive.  The JT21 is also a most modern machine, featuring VAM (Virtually Assisted Make-up, a software-driven pipe handling apparatus that renders redundant floats or sensors).  Pleasingly for those brought up on video games, the JT21 is controlled by a multimode joystick and LCD (liquid crystal display) interface.

Digging a better trench: Winston Churchill inspecting the progress of project White Rabbit No, 6, Clumber Park, Nottinghamshire, England, November 1941.

In “Ditch Witch” CEA came up with a catchy name, one that would have appealed to word-nerd Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955), had there not been a need for secrecy.  The World War II (1939-1945) era White Rabbit No. 6 was an “trench digging” engineering project co-ordinated by the British Admiralty although, as a security measure, the official code-name was changed to “Cultivator No. 6” to make it sound less mysterious and more like just another a piece of agricultural equipment.  It was a military trench-digging machine, an example of the adage “generals are always preparing to fight the last war” and although designed exclusively for army use on (and at least partially under) land, it came under the auspices of the RN (Royal Navy) because it was one of the many “good ideas” from the brain of Churchill who, between the outbreak of war in 1939 and his assumption of the premiership some months later, served as First Lord of the Admiralty (the RN’s political head).  Trenches and artillery had been the two dominant features of World War I (1914-1918) and Churchill had spent some months (1915-1916) in one of the former under fire from the latter while commanding a battalion; before the implications of mechanization and the German’s Blitzkrieg (lightning war) tactics were apparent, he assumed the new war in France would unfold something like the old, thus the interest in something which would “revolutionize trench warfare”.

Clipart of sexy Halloween witches (PNG (portable network graphics) format, transparent, 300 DPI (dots-per-inch)) can be downloaded.

Trench warfare however wasn’t repeated so White Rabbit No.6 was soon realized to be already obsolete so the project was abandoned and although the most fully developed of the prototypes did perform according to the design parameters, whether it would have been effective remains doubtful; remarkably, work on these things wasn’t wholly abandoned until 1942.  The “White Rabbit” project codes came from Churchill’s sense of humor, his ideas flowing, as he said: “like rabbits I pull from my hat” and he supported many, some of which were of great military value while others, like the “floating runways” (artificial icebergs made with a mixture of shards of timber & frozen water), were quixotic.  The gestation of the White Rabbit was also an echo of World War I when, in an earlier incarnation as First Lord, Churchill had instructed the Admiralty to begin development of the first “tank”.  The word “tank” was adopted to create the impression the project was about “water tanks” and while it may seem strange to put admirals in charge of what was so obviously a “land weapon”, it was the navy that possessed the expertise in fabricating similar devices (the gun turrets used on warships) and the boat-sized engines that would be used to propel them.

Bronwyn Bishop (b 1942, left), Sophie Mirabella (b 1968) and Tony Abbott (right) at the infamous “Ditch the Witch” protest, 2011.

Tony Abbott (b 1957; Prime Minister of Australia 2013-2015) rarely saw a 3WS he didn’t like and, in 2011, apparently had no compunction in being photographed in front of a placard with the words “Ditch the Witch”, the occasion a “No Carbon Tax” protest, called after Julia Gillard (b 1961; Prime Minister of Australia 2010-2013) had announced such a tax would be imposed, despite having earlier promised there’d be no such tax.  Clearly it must have been a "non-core promise", another Australian contribution to political jargon.  Also displaying the depth of the Australian linguistic imagination (if not grasp of the rules of punctuation) was one reading “Juliar….Bob Browns [sic] Bitch”.  The construct of Juliar was Ju(lia) + liar (alluding to the broken promise) and “Bitch” a reference to the allegation her government was too inclined to be influenced by the Green Party, then led by Dr Bob Brown (b 1944; senator for Tasmania (Australian Greens) 1996-2012, Green party leader 2005-2015).  “Bitch” was also a slur, a snide comment on Dr Brown’s homosexuality.

Tony Abbott agitprop.

Mr Abbott's combination of relentless negativity and repetition of 3WSs (three word slogans) contributed to his resounding victory in the 2013 general election although, in office, the results were mixed and it ended badly.  Recently resurrected as the Liberal Party's federal president (the institution's third “Lazerus with a triple bypass” after Sir Robert Menzies (1894–1978; Prime Minister of Australia 1939-1941 & 1949-1966) and John Howard (b 1939; Prime Minister of Australia 1996-2007)), Mr Abbott unquestionably was one of history's most effective leaders of the opposition but as Roy Jenkins (1920–2003) remarked of Lord Randolph Churchill (1849–1895):  “He was essentially a opposition politician and behaved as such even when in government”.  With his long experience in the cabinets of two of the UK's more faction-ridden post-war Labour governments, of such matters, Jenkins was a fair judge.  It was Lord Randolph who made famous the dictum The duty of an opposition is to oppose” but he proved neglectful in adhering to the obvious corollary defining the role of a government.  When in opposition, Mr Abbott followed the dictum with an unmatched muscular efficiency (during all those years he trained to be ordained a priest, the Jesuit monsignors drummed into him the Catholic Church's world view (“thou shalt not”)) and even after he elected not to follow the calling, the lesson never departed his soul.  Mr Abbott as federal president of the party that axed him from the leadership before he'd completed a single term will be watched with interest by many, dread by some and quiet terror by those clinging to marginal seals (the latter now a big number).  In the pre-penicillin age, Lord Randolph died a dreadful death and whether Mr Abbott proves the Liberal Party's political penicillin will be determined by the patient's fate.         

“Witch Doctor” was  for several successful seasons campaigned in drag racing by Dr Keith Garner (b 1935), a Cherokee, Iowa-based physician.

A 1970 Ford Torino Cobra, it was ordered from the factory explicitly configured to optimize performance over quarter-mile (402 metres) runs: 429 cubic inch (7.0 litre) Super Cobra Jet V8 (J-code), C6 automatic transmission & 3.91 Drag Pack 9 inch rear end (V code).  The styling cues were “borrowed” by Ford Australia for the two-door hardtop version of the Falcon (XA, XB & XC, 1972-1979), the lines proving aerodynamically efficient on even the fastest circuits.  Unfortunately, the second generation Torino (1970-1971), while untroubled on drag strips where speeds didn’t exceed 125 mph (200 km/h), on the big NASCAR (National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing) ovals where 200 mph (320 km/h) routinely was approached, the shape induced unexpectedly high drag, despite looking sleeker than its slab-sided predecessor (1968-1969); where possible, racing teams opted to run the old body.

In this, Ford was a victim of circumstances.  The plan had been to produce a run of 1970 Torinos with aerodynamics optimized for the ovals (as had been done with the previous generation (the 1969 Torino Talladega and corporate stablemate Mercury Cyclone Spoiler II)) and three prototypes were built but the NASCAR regulators, not best-pleased their series for "showroom stock cars" (although it had been more than a decade since teams had used cars close to that) was being "gamed" by manufacturers, changed the rules, rendering the so called "aero cars" uncompetitive by limiting them to a 305 cubic inch (5.0 litre) engine displacement while allowing the others to use the full 430 (7.0).  Visually, although highly effective, the modifications appearing on the Talladega & Cyclone Spoiler II were quite modest (as were those applied in 1969 on the Dodge Charger 500 that triggered the "aero wars") and had the manufacturers continued to exercise restraint and limit the changes to some subtle "tweaks", NASCAR might have allowed the fun to continue.  However, after the 1969 Dodge Charger Daytona and 1970 Plymouth Road Runner Superbird appeared with extravagant appendages front and rear (the elevated rear wings so high literally they could be used to hang washing out to dry), the rule-makers cracked down, ending the first round of the "aero wars".  Interest in aerodynamics would within a few years return but this time for everything on the production line as manufactures pursued every course to reduce fuel consumption. 

Preaching to the converted: One-time seminarian Mr Abbott gets the message across.

Standing with Mr Abbott, Liberal Party luminaries Bronwyn Bishop and Sophie Mirabella presumably regarded the words “witch” & “bitch” as “political” rather than “sexist”.  That view wasn’t shared by Ms Gillard who later remarked: “I wasn't shocked that some people had those sentiments…” but was, “…shocked that it was so visibly called forth into the public debate and that it didn't get the sort of odium from mainstream commentators that it should have.”  The signage also rated a mention in her strident “misogyny speech”, delivered in the parliament on 9 October 2012 as a reaction then opposition leader Mr Abbott accusing her of sexism.  Actually, she “had a bit of previous” with sexism (notably the “mincing poodle” affair) but the speech was a good performance and around the planet it went viral.  At the time of the “Ditch the Witch” rally, Ms Gillard of course received the expected support from her ALP (Australian Labor Party) party colleagues although Ms Bishop and Ms Mirabella seem to have been unmoved.  One at the time vocal in her condemnation of the signage was Penny Wong (b 1968), then serving in the Gillard cabinet and, as a woman, she would be expected to be sensitive to hints of misogyny.  Ms Gillard of course had only that to resort to when weaponizing “an identity” whereas Wong could play (1) “the woman card”, (2) the “race card” (being of part-Asian extraction) or “the gay card” (being a lesbian).  Still her support must have been appreciated as gesture of feminist solidarity.  Unfortunately, Ms Gillard’s problems got worse and the rest of the country noticed; so did her party colleagues and, in a leadership spill in June 2013, she lost the leadership, Ms Wong among those voting for the alternative.  Feminist solidarity goes only so far when there’s the threat of a big pay cut and the loss of perks.

Food safety labels: Yakult explains.

Two of the terms most often used in food safety labelling are “Best before” & “Use by”.  A “Best before” (sometimes as “Best by”) date is an indication the item should be consumed before this date because beyond that point its qualities (flavour, textures, freshness etc) will be less than optimal.  In most cases, it should still be “safe” to consume the item (especially if from the “dry goods” class such as pasta) although if too many days have elapsed it’s recommended carefully to inspect (visually or by olfaction (ie the “sniff test”)) prior to use.  A “Use by” date is prescriptive rather than advisory and food should not be consumed after this date.  Even if within the date, items requiring refrigeration or other storage protocols should also be subject to the informal tests if the end-date is close or spoilage is suspected.  Once the date has passed, the item should be disposed of.

Mr Abbott in T-shirt (digitally altered image).

Like comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953), Mt Abbott spent some years in a seminary training for the priesthood, though both left the calling, comrade Stalin because he found another god and Mr Abbott because he judged himself unsuitable for the priestly job-description, concluding he’d never achieve the required KPIs (Key Performance Indicator); after entering parliament, it took not long for his colleagues (more so than his opponents) to dub him with the sobriquet “the mad monk”).  In the general election on 7 September, 2013 Mr Abbott achieved an impressive victory, gaining a majority in the House of Representative of 30 seats.  It would have be greater still had the ALP (Australian Labor Party) not some three months earlier knifed party leader (and prime minister) Julia Gillard, replacing her with Dr Kevin Rudd (b 1957, prime minister of Australia 2007-2010 and June-September 2013).  There was a nice political symmetry to that because in 2010 it had been her who knifed him; they’re good haters in the ALP and although selective, their memories can be acute.  Had she remained as prime minister, all the indications are Mr Abbott’s margin of victory would have been greater still; while the country had little appetite for a Rudd 2.0 administration, collective hatred for Gillard 1.0 had become visceral.  So, while the defenestration didn’t save the ALP from a crushing defeat, it could have been worse and politics is the art of the possible.  Unfortunately, what in office should have been Abbott Government 1.0 turned out to be Abbott Opposition 1.1 and some two-thirds into what (on paper) should have been the first of at least two terms, his colleagues concluded his “Best before” date was 7 September, 2013 and his “Use by” date expired on 15 September, 2015.

In both parties, taking the axe to the leader (sort of) fixed some things but in the last two decades the quality of the ALP’s leaders has been “patchy” and where there have been periods of success, that’s an indication more of the parlous quality of the opposition than an endorsement of their dynamic qualities or intellectual punch.  For the Liberals, it’s been at least as bad.  Other than the briefly hopeful intervals between 2008-2009 & 2015-2018 when Malcolm Turnbull (b 1954; prime minister of Australia 2015-2018) was (sort of) in charge, the party has been led by right-wing fanatics, religious weirdos and soft-drink salesmen (there’s a bit of overlap because some enjoyed a dual function).

Briefly in 2026, one of the few pleasures to be see when waiting to catching one's bus in Melbourne.

Genuinely a piece of Australian political history, the “Ditch the Witch” 3WS in 2026 made an unexpected return the streets of Melbourne, appearing on the sides of trucks trundling through the suburbs.  The target this time was Jacinta Allan (b 1973; premier of Victoria since 2023), the lucky recipient of the poisoned chalice of the state’s premiership, handed to her after the retirement of the long-serving Daniel Andrews (b 1972), premier of Victoria 2014-2023.  Several political junkies have been compiling reports with calculations attempting to work out just how much public money has been squandered / stolen / misappropriated / wasted (the terms vary with the author) during the life of the Andrews/Allan government.  While not all the various “incidents” suggest dishonesty (some being mere incompetence), the alleged losses variously are in the thousands, millions or billions.  Ms Allan has made little attempt to address substantive matters (such as the rising state debt) but was most vociferous in her objection to the revival of the “Ditch the Witch” 3WS with her scowling visage appended; within 48 hours the offending images had been banished from the streets although whether that was achieved with threats, persuasion or the premier casting a spell isn’t certain.  In an indication her government had a focus on “high priority issues”, it was announced Aus$134,000 (US$95,000) had been allocated to erect a bronze statue of Mr Andrews.

Despite the impression created by popular culture (especially film & television), the “witch = female, warlock = male” thing is quite modern and thus historically misleading; Ms Gillard and Ms Allan are clearly very modern, thus their equating “witch” with “woman” and its use as a slur as sexism.  For most of the history of the English language, a “witch” could be male or female although the record does suggest women were more often accused of witchcraft, while “warlock” often was not applied to male witches.  In the Old English (certainly before circa 1000), the most common forms were wicca (male practitioner of witchcraft) and wicce (female practitioner) both from the same Germanic root; by the late Middle English (and after the Norman Conquest (1066), gradually the forms merged in pronunciation, the spelling shifting to reflect this, “witch” coming to denote either sex.  That’s why there came to be no need for a separate masculine noun.

Macbeth and the three witches (1760), oil on canvas by Francesco Zuccarelli (1702-1788).  Completed during the artist's “first English period” (1752-1762), historians believe this to be the first European painting depicting theatrical characters in a landscape and in From Rococo to Revolution: Major Trends in Eighteenth-Century Painting (1966), English art historian Sir Michael Levey (1927–2008; director of the National Gallery 1973-1986) notes the work as a fine example of “the beginnings of the Neo-Gothic under the influence of the theory of the sublime.”  When writing The Tragedy of Macbeth (Macbeth, circa 1606) William Shakespeare (1564–1616) had no doubts witches were women.

In the Laws of Ælfred, witchcraft explicitly was singled out as a woman's craft, the practitioners of which were not welcome to live among the Western Saxons but that can’t have been persuasive and it’s clear from later legal and theological writings (fields in which there was long cross-fertilization) that men were a capable as women of practicing witchcraft (the English Witchcraft Act (1604) refers only to “any person”).  Those accused (and sometimes executed) overwhelmingly were women and the numbers in Europe were striking (albeit with wide regional variations), the margin over decades sometimes as skewed as 90-10% F-M.  Of course these are raw numbers from the surviving historic record so while there’s (probably not unreasonably) now the perception women disproportionately were targeted for prosecution, it’s not impossible there simply were more women than men practicing witchcraft.  Popular culture is just as divergent from history in the evolution of “warlock”.  Warlock was from the Old English wǣrloga (oath-breaker; traitor; deceiver) and was related to the notion of “belie one's pledge” rather than magic spells but because of the Biblical association of “deceiver” with Satan, in certain medieval religious texts, wǣrloga was used to mean “the Devil”.

Witches and Witchcraft in Victorian Britain by Emma Woodhouse is scheduled for publication in April 2027.  In Jane Austen's (1775-1817) novel Emma (1815), Emma Woodhouse was the titular protagonist of almost 21, described by the author as “a heroine whom no-one but myself will much like.

The origin of “warlock” being equated with “man practising witchcraft” seems to be in early sixteenth century Scots English but even there it was never the standard form with the church and court records of the time listing men so accused as “witches”, as was the case in England and Wales.  Charmingly, literary historians trace the emergence of “warlock” meaning “a male witch” to the rise of Gothic novel, a form which enjoyed a spike in popularity between the 1760s and 1820s; witches were mentioned in Gothic novel and Warlocks were not but from those beginnings came the “ghost” & “horror” genres and historians have concluded the Victorian writers, mining the occult, folklore, medievalism, picked-up “warlock” for no better reason than it sounded archaic and had the “picturesque” quality novelists like.  From this improbable beginning, “warlock” became vested with an almost wholly bogus “history” readers allowing themselves to be convinced stretched back a thousand years or more.  Victorian novels were however a niche and what’s thought most to have reinforced the popular perception was twentieth century cinema, an industry which cemented the witch/warlock dichotomy, adhered to in fantasy fiction, role-playing games, comics and popular culture of all forms.