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

Friday, November 13, 2026

Fabulous

Fabulous (pronounced fab-yuh-luhs)

(1) Of or relating to fables; stories wholly or substantially of the imaginary and known of through myth or legend; something in the record known to be unhistorical.

(2) Characteristic of fables; marvelous, extraordinary, incredible.

(3) Almost impossible to believe; incredible.

(4) Fictional; made-up; a falsehood (the latter archaic in its disparaging sense).

(5) Exceptionally good or unusual, wonderful or superb.

(6) Fashionable, glamorous.

(7) In slang or as a euphemism, gay or pertaining to gay people; camp, effeminate ("a fabulousity" suggested as a collective noun for gay men but it never caught on) .

Circa 1550: From the Late Middle English fabulous & fabulose, from the Latin fābulōsus (celebrated in fable; rich in myth), the construct being fābul(a) (a story, a tale) + -ōsus (the adjectival suffix).  The –ōsus suffix (familiar in English as –ous) was from Classical Latin from -ōnt-to-s from -o-wont-to -s, the latter form a combination of two primitive Indo-European suffixes: -went & -wont.  Related to these were –entus and the Ancient Greek -εις (-eis) and all were used to form adjectives from nouns.  In Latin, -ōsus was added to a noun to form an adjective indicating an abundance of that noun.  As a literary genre (and some fables came from oral traditions) fables were stories told usually to make some moral point or illustrate the consequences of one’s actions and while they could sometimes involve fantastical creatures like winged stallions or unicorns, sometimes they involved fictional characters who were mere flesh & blood and even a multi-volume, epic-length novel like Don Quixote (1605-1615) by Miguel de Cervantes circa 1547–1616) can be thought a fable.  There is some evidence of use in the gay faction of the LGBTQQIAAOP community of fabulous as a (non-standard) noun, sometimes in the forms “uber-fabulous” & “ultra-fabulous” although those constructions are used also as adjectives of especial emphasis; that means there's a distinction between used in the “high camp” tradition and more generally.  Fabulous is an adjective, fabulousness & fabulosity are nouns, fabulize, fabulizing & fabulized are verbs and fabulously is an adverb; the use is the plural is rare but in informal use both fabulousnesses & fabulosities have been seen. 

Looking fabulous: Lindsay Lohan on the cover of Fabulous magazine, August 2010.

The original sense was “of or pertaining to fable” and dates from the 1550s.  The now familiar meaning shift began as early as the turn of the seventeenth century when the word was recorded as conveying the sense of “incredible”, extended soon to “enormous, immense; amazing”; by the mid-twentieth century, almost exclusively it meant “marvelous; wonderful, superb”.  The clipping to create the slang “fab” was in use by at least 1957 and that spiked after 1963 when the alliterative “fab four” was used to describe the pop group, The Beatles.  When in 1965 revising Henry Fowler’s (1858–1933), A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926), Sir Ernest Gowers (1880–1966) maintained his predecessor’s disapproval of much that was a bit too modern, noting that correctly, fabulous meant “…mythical, legendary, but was long ago extended to do duty as an adjective for something that is real but so astonishing that you might not think it was legendary if you did not know better.”, adding that it had “…become fabulously popular as a term of eulogy or allure.”  He seemed though to suspect it might be a “fad word”, noting it and its contracted forms “fab” & “fabs”, like “fantastic”, were perhaps the latest “…in that long list of words which boys and girls use for a time to express high commendation and then get tired of, such as, to go no farther back than the present century, topping, spiffing, ripping, wizard, super, posh & smashing.”

One suspects Henry Fowler and Sir Ernest would be impressed but not surprised by the churn-rate of “fad words” in the TikTok era.  Decades on however, “fab” seems to have endured and “fabulous” is entrenched in its familiar role, even the more recent portmanteau adjective fantabulous (the construct being fanta(stic) + (fa)bulous) surviving in its niche.  Fabulous probably gained a new lease of life when in the late 1960s it was picked up by the gay community as a “preferred word”, used it even as a noun; it remains an essential element in the camp vocabulary and the nuance can shift between adulation and indifference, just with a shift in the syllable-stressing or tone of voice.  Unless it’s between scholars, those wishing to convey the original meaning should probably use terms such as “fabled” or “mythological” rather than fabulous; even “legendary” can be ambiguous because it’s now often used to mean something like “famous” or “very well-known”.

Lindsay Lohan in an unusual cage cut-out top, the lines assuming or relaxing from the orthogonal as the body moves (maybe an instance of a "shifting semiorthogonal"), The World's First Fabulous Fund Fair in aid of the Naked Heart Foundation, The Roundhouse, London, February 2015.  An opportunity was missed by not adding a sympathetic clutch purse; an ensemble like this needs something to hold in one hand.

George W. Bush, Condoleezza Rice & Colin Powell.

The phrase “the fabulous invalid” refers to live theatre.  The reference come from a 1938 stage play of that name, written by George S. Kaufman (1889-1961) and Moss Hart (1904-1961), the work following the seesawing fortunes of a fictitious Broadway theatre between 1900-1930.  In a touching irony, while the play was barely a modest success and not highly regarded (even by its authors), as a phrase the title has endured not only as a reference to live theatre as a declining industry but also of stage productions generally.   George W. Bush (George XLIII, b 1946; POTUS 2001-2009) who (admittedly unwittingly) contributed more than most to coining new words & novel grammatical structures, probably wasn’t deliberately alluding the original meaning of fabulous when he used it to describe the performance of his first foreign minister, Colin Powell (1937–2021; US secretary of state 2001-2005) but if considered thus it certainly reflected his view the former general’s favorable public image reflected more myth than reality and he’d prefer a secretary of state who both ticked a few boxes and was better attuned to his more brutish world-view.

General Colin Powell with “two of his favourite” Volvo 122 Series cars (“Amazon” 1956-1970).

In Dr Condoleezza Rice (b 1954; US secretary of state 2005-2009) he certainly got that but in the run-up to the invasion of Iraq, whatever might have been his better judgment, the general did his job because, as Generalfeldmarschall (Field Marshal) Wilhelm Keitel (1882–1946; head of OKW (Oberkommando der Wehrmacht, the German armed forces high command 1938-1945) put it during his unsuccessful defense at the first Nuremberg Trial (1945-1946): “For a soldier, orders are orders.”  General Powel's flirtation with politics has the quality of a fable and the story of Condoleezza Rice’s career in government even more so; a cautionary tale of what can happen when a nice young lady from a good family gets mixed up with “the wrong crowd” (Bush, Dick Cheney (1941-2025; VPOTUS 2001-2009), Donald Rumsfeld (1932–2021: US defense secretary 1975-1977 & 2001-2006) et al) who lead her astray.

White House transcript of press conference assembled when the president met with Colin Powell and Richard Armitage (b 1945; US deputy secretary of state 2001-2005) at his ranch in Crawford, Texas, Wednesday, 6 August, 2003:

THE PRESIDENT: First, it's been my real privilege and honor to welcome the Secretary of State back to Crawford. He and Dick Armitage came, and we spent yesterday evening and this morning talking about our country's desire to promote peace and freedom, our obligations as a prosperous and strong nation to help the less fortunate. And we had a good strategy session, and now we're about to go out and brand some cows -- well, not exactly. (Laughter)

QUESTION: Sir, you've seen the report that Secretary Powell and Secretary Armitage are going to leave at the end of this administration. Do you expect them to stay on if there is a second Bush administration? Would you like them to?

THE PRESIDENT: Well, first things first, we hope there is a second Bush administration. And I will work hard to convince the American people that their confidence in me is justified. And we'll deal with it at the right time.  Listen, this guy has done a fabulous job. Washington, particularly in August, is a dangerous period -- a dangerous time, because there's a lot of speculation. And all I can tell you is, the man flies to Crawford and we spend a good 24 hours talking about how we're going to work together to make the world a better place.

QUESTION: But, Mr. President, you said, we'll deal with it…

THE PRESIDENT: Yes, Elizabeth.

QUESTION: We'll deal with it at the right time. That isn't "yes".

THE PRESIDENT: Deal with what at the right time?

QUESTION: With whether Secretary Powell will serve in a second term. Is that, "yes" or "no"? I mean, are you going to offer him a spot in the second term?

SECRETARY POWELL: I don't have a term. I serve the President. (Laughter)

QUESTION: No, but the President…

THE PRESIDENT: Elizabeth, look, first things first, and that is, we've got a year-and-a-while during my first term to make the world a more peaceful place and we'll deal with it. Washington loves speculation. Clearly, you love speculation. You love it. You love to speculate about…

QUESTION: It wasn't my story. (Laughter.)

THE PRESIDENT: Let me finish, please; let me finish. You love to speculate about whether so-and-so is going to be a part of the administration or not. And I understand the game. But I have got to do my job, and I'm going to do it. And I'm going to do it with the Secretary of State. And the fact that he is here in Crawford, Texas, talking about issues of importance, should say loud and clear to the American people that he's completely engaged in doing what he needs to do, and that is, serve as a great Secretary of State.

QUESTION: Do you want to serve more than four years, Mr. Secretary?

SECRETARY POWELL: I serve at the pleasure of the President, and this is all August speculation with no basis in fact. There was no basis for this story to begin with, and we're doing our jobs together.

THE PRESIDENT: All right. We're going to get a burger. Thank you.

Like all in the cabinet, a secretary of state does “serve at the pleasure of the president” and historians seem at one in asserting it was the POTUS who delegated to his chief of staff the task of requesting the general tender his resignation.  It is no criticism of Mr Bush that he delayed this “constructive dismissal” until a few days after his re-election in November 2024; that’s just orthodox politics and the day after the letter was in his hands, he nominated Dr Rice as his new secretary of state.  Not long after the burgers were served at Crawford, stories appeared on the wire services noting it was most unusual in Texas to hear someone spoken of having “done a fabulous job” (it’s the sort of thing one hears in places like San Francisco) and speculation began it might be a phrase in the sporting tradition of “the coach has our full confidence”, not infrequently a prelude to a sacking after a string of losses. 

Monday, November 9, 2026

Act

Act (pronounced akt)

(1) Anything done, being done, or to be done; deed; performance.

(2) The process of doing.

(3) A formal decision, law, or the like, by a legislature, ruler, court, or other authority; decree or edict; statute; judgment, resolve, or award (with initial capital when part of a name).  An act is created by a legislature passing a bill.

(4) An instrument or document stating something done or transacted.

(5) One of the main divisions of a play or opera.

(6) A short performance by one or more entertainers, usually part of a variety show or radio or television program or the personnel of such a group.

(7) A false show; pretence; feint.

(8) In scholasticism (a medieval school of philosophy), (1) activity in process; operation, (2) the principle or power of operation, (3) form as determining essence & (4) a state of realization, as opposed to potentiality (an occurrence effected by the volition of a human agent, usually opposed at least as regards its explanation to one which is causally determined).

(9) To do something; exert energy or force; be employed or operative.

(10) To reach, make, or issue a decision on some matter.

(11) To operate or function in a particular way; perform specific duties or functions.

(12) To produce an effect; perform a function; to behave or conduct oneself in a particular fashion.

(13) To pretend; feign.

(14) to represent (a fictitious or historical character) with one's person; to perform as an actor.

(15) To serve or substitute (usually followed by for).

(16) To actuate, to move to action; to actuate; to animate (obsolete).

(17) As ACT, the initialization for Australian Capital Territory, a federal territory created for the establishment of Canberra as Australia’s capital city.

(18) In certain English universities, a thesis maintained publicly by a candidate for a degree, or to show the proficiency of a student.

(19) In mathematics, construed with on or upon, of a group; to map via a homomorphism to a group of automorphisms.

(20) In Scottish law, to enact, decree (obsolete).

(21) In slang, as "Dutch act", suicide.

1350–1400: From the Middle English act & acte, from the Old French acte, from the Latin ācta (register of events), plural of āctum (decree, law (later “something done”)), noun use of the past participle of agere (to set in motion, drive, drive forward", hence "to do, perform" and figuratively "incite to action; keep in movement, stir up" a verb with a broad range of meaning in Latin, including "act on stage, play the part of; plead a cause at law; chase; carry off, steal”), the construct being āg- (past participle stem) + -tum (the neuter past participle suffix) and directly from the Latin āctus (a doing; a driving, impulse, a setting in motion; a part in a play), the construct being āg- + -tus (the suffix of verbal action); the ultimate source was the primitive Indo-European héǵeti. The word partially displaced deed (which endured also to enjoy a specific meaning in law), from the Old English dǣd (act, deed).  Source of it all was the primitive Indo-European root ag- (to drive, draw out or forth, move).  Act is a noun, verb & adverb, acting is a noun, verb & adjective, active is a noun & adjective, actuation, actuator, activation, activity, acter, actor & actress are nouns, actuate, activating, acted & activate are verbs, acting is a noun, verb & adjective, activated is a verb & adjective, actuatable & actless are adjectives and actively is an adverb; the noun plural is acts.

“An act of God”: Last moments of the Hindenburg (Luftschiff Zeppelin #129; Registration: D-LZ 129), Manchester Township, New Jersey, United States, 6 May, 1937.  The German dirigibles were hydrogen-filled because the US declined to supply helium to the Nazi regime (1933-1945).  A chemically inert noble gas, helium is neither combustible nor flammable.

The theatrical (part of a play (from the 1510s)) and the early fifteenth century legislative senses of the word existed also in Latin although the idea of "one of a series of performances in a variety show" seems not to have been in use until the 1890s although such forms of entertainment were by then long-established.  The (usually disparaging) use to suggest a "display of exaggerated behavior" is from 1928, extended from the theatrical sense.  The "act of God” (a natural force or event uncontrollable by man) was first recorded in 1726 as a legal term to refer to matters in which plaintiffs could not sue for compensation or relief because the consequent losses could not by anyone have been “…guarded against by the ordinary exertions of human skill and prudence so as to prevent its effect.”  Even Adolf Hitler (who wasn't fond of of churches and priests (the Roman Catholic ones he called "black crows") found it often convenient to invoke the name of the Almighty) found the concept helpful, describing the destruction of the Hindenburg dirigible in 1937 as “an act of God”.  The word had been in the language of law for a while, an act in the 1590s understood as something "in the process" and legal scholars link this with the late sixteenth century use of act as a euphemism for "sexual intercourse”.

The verb was a mid fifteenth century development from the noun and most of the modern senses in English probably are from the noun.  In the mid 1400s, it began with the sense of "to act upon or adjudicate in legal matters” before from circa 1600 coming to be used in the familiar general meaning of "to do, perform, transact", extended to things in the sense of "do something, exert energy or force”, by 1751, a use which would become increasingly common in physics and cosmology.  In theatrical performances, from the 1590s it meant to "perform as an actor" (intransitive) and by the 1610s "represent by performance on the stage" (transitive). The meaning "perform specific duties or functions," often on a temporary basis, had come into use by 1804 and was given a new legitimacy when the Duke of Wellington (1769–1852; UK prime-minister 1828-1830) was described as “acting prime-minister” between November-December 1834 while awaiting the return from Italy of the king’s appointee.  One verb form which in general use didn’t survive was "co-act" (to act together in a performance), noted from circa 1600, it begat co-action; co-active; co-actor etc although co-act (and variations) is still sometimes used in scientific papers.

Hitler addressing the Reichstag (sitting in the Kroll Opera House after the Reichstag building was torched) on the matter of the Enabling Act, Berlin, 23 March, 1933.  Göring (who once claimed (latter denied) to have to have arranged the arson) is presiding as President of the Reichstag (1932-1945).

In legislation, the part played by the “act” differs between systems but, as a general principle, the convention used in Westminster System parliaments in illustrative of the process: A “bill” for an “act [of parliament]” is introduced to the relevant chamber or parliament and if “passed” according to due constitutional process, the act becomes “law”.  One of history’s more notorious acts was the German Enabling Act of 1933 (Gesetz zur Behebung der Not von Volk und Reich (literally “Law to Remedy the Distress of People and Reich”), the legislative device from which flowed the erosion of checks and balances in the Weimar-era (1918-1933) constitution (that, remarkably, was never repealed and, in the narrow legal sense, endured until the dissolution of the Nazi state in 1945), culminating in Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) in 1943 gaining absolute, personal, dictatorial power.  Enabling acts (Ermächtigungsgesetz (in German, literally “empowering law”)) exist in many systems usually are merely procedural, devices by which a legislature delegates some power(s) to an entity (or individual) but what was notable about the Ermächtigungsgesetz of 23 March, 1933 was it provided the legal legitimacy for the Nazi’s subsequent transformation of Germany into a totalitarian state; it became, in effect, an absolute monarchy (albeit it a chaotic one, something not fully appreciated until well after the end of hostilities in 1945).  Because, structurally, the act was an amendment to the Weimar constitution, a vote by a “super-majority” (essentially two-thirds of members of the Reichstag (the German parliament)) was required and the Nazis at that point “didn’t have the numbers”.  However, to people like Hitler and Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi 1922-1945, Hitler's designated successor & Reichsmarschall 1940-1945), that was little more than a tiresome irritant and through the methods that had until then served them well (lies, threats, coercion, violence & bribery), duly the Reichstag passed the act.

To “act on” in the sense of "to exert influence upon" entered general use in the 1810s, the adoption encouraged by the increasing appearance of the phrase in scientific literature.  To “act up” came by 1900 mean "be unruly" (in reference to a horse in the same way bolter (ie “to bolt” in the sense of “gallop off without warning”)) was used, a reversal of the earlier meaning "acting in accordance with a duty, expectation, or belief” which dates from 1645.  To “act out” (behave anti-socially) was part of the jargon of psychiatry noted first in 1974; it meant "expressing one's unconscious impulses or desires", following “acting out” (abnormal behavior caused by unconscious influences) from 1945.  The idiomatic forms are legion.  “To get into the act” (participate) dates from 1947 and “to get (one's) act together” (organize one's chaotic life) is said not to have been used until the mid-1970s which seems surprising but more than one source records this.  The idea of the “one-act” was borrowed from the literal “one act play” (a performance consisting of a single act), noted since 1888, the figurative use suggesting either brevity or inadequacy depending on context.  The verb overact (to go too far in action) faded from use except in its original sense from the theatre where it described an actor “playing a part with too much emphasis; an extravagant and unnatural manner”.  The theatrical slang encapsulating this was “chewing the scenery", which sounds modern but dates from the 1630s.  To “act one’s age” is to behave in a manner befitting the maturity one is presumed to have attained at a certain stage in life.  An “act of faith” is to embark on a course of action on either (1) a basis of trust rather than any guarantee or (2) as a demonstration one's religious faith.

Acts & Scenes

William Shakespeare agitprop.

The act is a major division in many performance pieces such as plays, film, opera etc and frequently (though not of necessity) consists of a number of scenes, the concept dating from the theatre of antiquity.  Traditionally, the division of a work into acts and scenes was undertaken by the author but such delineations, especially of older material, can be made by critics or those applying academic analysis and where the notion of authorship can become blurred (such as a film director interpreting a text), there can be variations from the original, something sometimes controversial.  The application of the concept (and the labels) of acts and scenes is widely applied to many forms of entertainment, sometimes to provide a structural framework and sometimes, one suspects, to lend a not always deserved gravitas.  In the production of more recent material, commercial imperatives can also dictate the divisions, the single intermission a common occurrence which renders a performance inherently a two-stage event in some sense.

The five-act structure.

The number of acts in a piece need not bear any relationship to its length although this certainly is the general tendency, a one act play usually a deliberately short work.  Although the five act structure had until the early nineteenth century been most frequently used by playwrights, many analysts suggest this was a kind of formalism, a deferential (and perhaps devotional) nod to William Shakespeare (circa 1564–1616) who usually adhered to the five act model in his plays.  The bard had his reasons and there is a discernible rhythm as his five acts evolve but none the less, even in the most intricate of his plays, it’s possible convincingly to map onto them the now conventional three act structure.

The three act structure.

The three-act structure can simply and unexceptionally be understood as the beginning, middle and end.  It's in act one the nature of the conflict is established with the identities of protagonist and antagonist are revealed (or in the case of the latter, at least alluded to.  During the second act, difficulties will arise, these the dramatic device used to create the insurmountable obstacle(s) likely to defeat the protagonist.  In the third act, there will be a climax (and perhaps an anti-climax or two), the point at which all seems finally lost for the protagonist.  However, despite it all, the protagonist prevails and, even if they die, the circumstances will be such a resolution attained is sufficient to satisfy the moral point being made.

F. Scott Fitzgerald with wife Zelda (Zelda Sayre, 1900-1948) in then fashionable fur.

F. Scott Fitzgerald’s (1896–1940) oft-quoted phrase “there are no second acts in American lives” appears as a fragment in his posthumously published, unfinished novel The Last Tycoon (1941) but he first published it in the early 1930s in the essay My Lost City, a kind of love letter to New York.  The quote is frequently misunderstood as an observation that for those Americans who suffer disgrace or destitution, there is no redemption, no coming back.  Comebacks in the US are of course frequent and some in politics have been remarkable.  What Richard Nixon (1913-1994; VPOTUS 1953-1961 and POTUS 1969-1974) achieved in winning the presidency in 1968 was extraordinary and in matching that achievement in 2024, Donald Trump (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) managed what must in 2021 have seemed impossible.  In the orthodoxy of conventional theatre, the final act is the third or fifth depending on the work's structure and this is followed also in idiomatic use.  Benito Mussolini (1883-1945; Duce (leader) & Prime-Minister of Italy 1922-1943) in 1938, gloomily contemplating the impending German annexation of neighboring Austria, told his foreign minister (Count Galeazzo Ciano (1903–1944; Italian foreign minister 1936-1943 (and son-in-law of the Duce who ordered his execution)): “We find ourselves in the interval between the fourth and fifth acts of the Austrian Affair.”      

Second (third, fourth etc) act specialist: Lindsay Lohan mug-shots 2007-2011.

However, from politics to pop culture, there are many examples of temporarily disreputable Americans resurrecting their public lives from all but the most ignominious opprobrium.  Fitzgerald was a professional writer and his observation was an allusion to the structure used by playwrights in traditional three-act theatre: (1) problem, (2) complication & (3) solution.  He thought the nature of the American mind was to prefer to skip the second act, going straight from problem to resolution.  His point was well-made and it’s one of the themes of the narrative which underlies the discussions (which became arguments and sometimes squabbles) of military and political strategy between the high commands in Washington and London during World War II (1939-1945).  As early as 1942 the preferred strategy of General George Marshall (1880–1959; US Army chief of staff 1939-1945) was a triphibious invasion of France along the English Chanel coast as a staging post for a "march on Berlin", the operation to be staged either that year or the next.  Like most of the senior ranks of the US military, he had little interest in the "secondary theatre" campaigns in Africa and the Mediterranean that so fascinated London; he wanted not to "nibble at the edges" but to go straight to the final act.  Historians on both sides of the Atlantic have concluded to postpone the invasion to 1944 was strategically correct.  

Friday, October 2, 2026

Ghost

Ghost (pronounced gohst)

(1) The soul of a dead person, a disembodied spirit imagined, usually as a vague, shadowy or evanescent form, as wandering among or haunting living persons.

(2) A mere shadow or semblance; a trace; a remote possibility; a faint trace or possibility of something.

(3) A spiritual being; the principle of life; soul; spirit (sometimes initial capital letter).

(4) A secondary image, especially one appearing on a television screen as a white shadow, caused by poor or double reception or by a defect in the receiver (also called ghosting).

(5) In photography, a faint secondary or out-of-focus image in a photographic print or negative resulting from reflections within the camera lens (also called ghost image).

(6) In optics, a series of false spectral lines produced by a diffraction grating with unevenly spaced lines.

(7) In metalworking, a streak appearing on a freshly machined piece of steel containing impurities.

(8) In pathology, a red blood cell having no hemoglobin.

(9) In tax-avoidance and other frauds, a fictitious employee, business etc, fabricated especially for the purpose of manipulating funds.

(10) In literature (especially quasi-literature), as ghost-write, to write a book, speech etc for another without attribution (distinct from the trade of the acknowledged ghostwriter).

(11) In engraving, to lighten the background of a photograph before engraving.

(12) In informal use (often associated with social media), suddenly to end all contact with a person without explanation, especially a romantic relationship; abruptly to leave a social event or gathering without saying goodbye.

(13) In digital technology, to remove comments, threads, or other digital content from a website or online forum without informing the poster, keeping them hidden from the public but still visible to the poster.

(14) In bibliography, as ghost edition, an entry recorded in a bibliography of which no actual proof exists.

Pre 900: From the Middle English gost, gast & goost (breath; good or bad spirit, angel, demon; person, man, human being", in Biblical use "soul, spirit, life”), from the Old English gāst (breath, soul, spirit, ghost, being), related to the Old High German gaist & geist (spirit) and the Sanskrit hēda (fury, anger).  The Proto-West Germanic gaist was derived from the Proto-Germanic gaistaz (ghost, spirit, (source also of the Old Saxon gest, the Old Frisian jest, the Middle Dutch gheest, the Dutch geest & the German Geist (spirit, ghost))), from the primitive Indo-European ǵhéysd-os, from ǵhéysd- (anger, agitation) and was cognate with the Scots ghaist (ghost), the Saterland Frisian Gäist (spirit), the West Frisian geast (spirit), the Dutch geest (spirit, mind, ghost), the German Geist (spirit, mind, intellect), the Swedish gast (ghost), the Sanskrit हेड (héḍa), (anger, hatred) and the Persian زشت‎ (zešt) (ugly, hateful, disgusting).  There’s no documentary evidence but the ultimate root is conjectured to be the primitive Indo-European gheis-, used in forming words involving the notions of excitement, amazement, or fear (source also of Sanskrit hedah (wrath), the Avestan zaesha- (horrible, frightful), the Gothic usgaisjan and the Old English gæstan (to frighten).  Ghost is a noun & verb (and used imaginatively as an adjective), ghoster is a noun, ghostly & ghosty are adjectives, ghosting is a noun & verb and ghosted is a verb & adjective; the noun plural is ghosts.

Ghost is the English representative of West Germanic words for "supernatural being" and in Christian writings in Old English it was used to render the Latin spiritus, a sense preserved by the early translators of the Bible in “Holy Ghost”.  The sense of a "disembodied spirit of a dead person", especially imagined as wandering among the living or haunting them, is attested from the late fourteenth century, a meaning-shift which returned the word to what was its probable prehistoric sense.  Most Indo-European words for "soul or spirit" also double with reference to supernatural spirits.  Many have also a base sense of "appearance" (the Greek phantasma; the French spectre; the Polish widmo, from Old Church Slavonic videti (to see), the Old English scin, the Old High German giskin (originally "appearance, apparition”), related to the Old English scinan & the Old High German skinan (to shine)).  Other concepts exist, including the French revenant (literally "returning" (from the other world)), the Old Norse aptr-ganga, (literally "back-comer") & the Breton bugelnoz (literally "night-child”).  The Latin manes (spirits of the dead) was probably a euphemism.

The gh- spelling appeared early in the fifteenth century in Caxton, influenced by Flemish and Middle Dutch gheest, but was rare in English before mid-1500s.  The sense of a "slight suggestion, mere shadow or semblance" (as in ghost image, ghost of a chance etc) is noted from the 1610s; the sense of "one who secretly does work for another" is from 1884 and ghost-write was a 1922 back-formation from the earlier (1919) ghost-writing.  The American Indian ghost dance was first noted in 1890, ghost town is from 1908, ghost story dates from 1811, the now less common ghost-word (apparent word or false form in a manuscript due to a blunder) is from 1886.  The “ghost in the machine” was English philosopher Gilbert Ryle's (1900-1976) 1949 description of René Descartes's (1596-1650) mind-body dualism and the phrase "to give up the ghost" (to die or prepare to die) was well-known in the Old English version; one of the many way folk avoid words like "death" or "die".  Synonyms include phantom, devil, demon, soul, shadow, spectre, vision, vampire, apparition, revenant, appearance, haunt, visitor, shade, spook, poltergeist, phantasm, wraith, daemon & manes.  There are a surprising number of uses of ghost, ghosted, ghosting etc said to be associated modern or internet slang covering fields as diverse as linguistic techniques and the art & science of smoking weed, the latter a rich vein of coinings.  However, the most commonly used describes someone with whom one has been in contact suddenly stops responding, disappearing, as it were, like a ghost.  This can happen in conjunction with unfriending etc but can be an act in isolation.  After becoming one of a number of Australian prime ministers (figuratively) defenestrated by their party before the voters got their chance, Malcolm Turnbull (b 1954; prime minister of Australia 2015-2018) left parliament and decried similarly deposed leaders who chose to stay as "miserable ghosts", a breed with a long tradition in many parliaments.   

Ghostwriters

Art of the Deal by Donald J Trump with Tony Schwartz (1987).  If the Nobel Committee can't bring themselves to confer on President Trump the Peace Prize, they could perhaps make him the Literature Laureate.  He would think that equally deserved.

Ghostwriters (also as ghost-writer) are professional writers hired to create content (books, columns, posts or any other (traditionally) text-focused item), the authorship of which ultimately will be credited to another although ghostwriters can be acknowledged as “co-authors” or (more commonly), receive credit in the form of having their name appear on the cover with a preceding “with”.  That latter approach of course implies some form of collaborative authorship and a famous example is Donald Trump’s (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) The Art of the Deal (1987), published as “by Donald J. Trump with Tony Schwartz” [b 1952].  The Art of the Deal is said to be competently written and for those in the business of the ruthless pursuit of deals it’s apparently an invaluable manual, Mr Trump in one interview saying perhaps the most important passages those advising (1) most deals don’t come off and (2) it’s better to walk away from what appears a bad deal than to close it in the hope it can be made to work.  Had than counsel been followed, there’d likely have been rather fewer corporate collapses than have been suffered since it was published; there’s good reasons why The Art of the Deal stayed at number 1 on The New York Times Best Seller list for three months and was a on the list for a year odd.

One day, there may be Lindsay Lohan: The autobiography.  Hopefully, there will be competing "authorized" and "unauthorized" editions.

So what does “By X with Y” usually imply?  The conventional view is it means “Y” is likely to have composed much of the text, based on interviews with “X”, their previous statements or other things they may have written.  It’s the most common approach in the biographies of sports stars that appear in the run-up to Christmas or father’s day; those books often sell well although whether they’re so often read is uncertain.  By contrast, “By X and Y” should mean true co-authorship (though not necessarily on the basis of 50-50 contribution) whereas “X by Y” should be a pure biography (although that can be “authorized” with the cooperation of “X” or “unauthorized” with even “X’s” active opposition to publication).  The “with” category obviously is the most ambiguous and thus often the most useful for a subject, allowing them to bask in the praise of a work well-received yet provide a layer of “plausible deniability” if needed.  Ghostwriters are used for a number of reasons including constraints of time, a lack of interest in the project (though not the profits) or, typically, a lack of the necessary skill with the written word.  Ghostwriting contracts can vary but the focus typically includes terms of payment, non-disclosure of involvement, the notional author’s exercise of veto over all or some of the content and the rights to the finished work.  Mr Trump certainly acknowledged using a ghostwriter, as did Paris Hilton (b 1981) who in her 2023 memoir thanked the ghostwriter who: “helped me find my voice”.

Monsieur Sarközy (left) and his third wife (Italian supermodel Carla Bruni, b 1967, right) arrive at La Santé Prison, November 2025.  Ghostwritten or not, it's unfair to "judge a book by its cover" but 
Monsieur Sarközy always looked guilty of something.  

One who never needed help to "find his voice" was Nicolas Sarközy (b 1955; President of France 2007-2012) who even found symbolic ways to express his inner torments.  When, in October 2025, entering La Santé Prison in Montparnasse to begin a five-year sentence imposed for “criminal association” related to campaign financing (it was a conspiracy charge), as well as comfortable shoes and some nice warm jumpers, the former Le Président took a novel and made sure the assembled press pack knew it was a copy of Le Comte de Monte-Cristo (The Count of Monte Cristo, 1844-1946) by Alexandre Dumas (1802-1870)), one of literature’s great “tales of revenge”.  He's since been released pending an appeal hearing so he's got some time to plot and scheme his vengeance and decide upon whom it will first be visited.

It’s the disclosure of using a ghostwriter that is critical, even if the exact details of relative contributions to the text remain murky.  The French novelist and dramatist Alexandre Dumas (1802-1870) is best-known for Les Trois Mousquetaires (The Three Musketeers, 1844) and Le Comte de Monte-Cristo but, by his own reckoning, he published some 1,200 volumes, hiring a veritable corps of ghostwriters so the production of “his” works could proceed on an assembly-line basis (many famous painters did much the same, creating by the twentieth century a significant (and lucrative) industry of those in the "authentication" business).  His illegitimate son (Alexandre Dumas fils (1824–1895 (fils being French for “son”)) was also an author of note (best remembered for The Lady of the Camellias (1848 and Camille in English-language versions), adapted by Giuseppe Verdi (1813–1901) for his opera  La traviata (The Fallen Woman, 1853)) and when one day father and son met for lunch, Dumas the elder asked: ‘‘Have you read my new novel yet?”.  “No,” replied the younger man, “Have you?”

One ghostwriter not (explicitly) acknowledged was Theodore Chaikin "Ted" Sorensen (1928–2010; US lawyer, author & presidential adviser), now widely believed to have written the great bulk (and possibly all) of Profiles in Courage (1956), credited to John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; POTUS 1961-1963).  The slim volume displayed Sorensen’s fine touch with language but it was a slight work, a collection of eight, short biographical sketches describing acts of “bravery and integrity” by  DWM (dead white men who were now mostly forgotten US senators) and that it received the 1957 Pulitzer Prize for Biography was an indication more of the political sympathies of the selection committee than the work’s literary merit or historical significance.  Still, it was a minor contribution to history and Barack Obama (b 1961; POTUS 2009-2017) accepted the 2009 Nobel Peace Prize, awarded apparently to express the Norwegian Nobel Committee’s gratitude he wasn’t George W Bush (George XLIII, b 1946; POTUS 2001-2009).  Even at the time the authorship of Profiles in Courage was controversial with some journalists openly accusing the then Senator Kennedy (Democrat-Massachusetts 1953-1960) of having done little more than put his name on the cover and accept a Pulitzer.  A fortnight after the award was announced, stories began to appear in the press casting doubt on the authorship and, within days, a check (cheque) was drawn against a Kennedy family trust in favour of Ted Sorensen for US$100,000-odd, a extraordinary sum wholly disproportionate to either the fee even well-paid ghostwriters would expect or the profits realised by Profiles in Courage.  Shamelessly (a Kennedy family trait), whether as a senator or POTUS, JFK would autograph copies of “his” book and personally hand them as gifts to visiting dignitaries.

Politicians of course have speechwriters and their contributions are usually well-publicized, some of the more-skilful (or more publicity-conscious) becoming minor celebrities, a thing sometimes resented by those for whom they write although, as a general principle, politicians are well-advised if they leave speech-writing to the pros.  During the 1969 election campaign, when discussing speechmaking, bizarrely, the idiosyncratic Sir John Gorton (1911-2002; prime minister of Australia 1968-1971), despite having at his finger-tips the entire resources of the Commonwealth government, complained that the leader of the Opposition’s (Gough Whitlam (1916–2014; Prime Minister of Australia 1972-1975) “…large staff—which I haven’t got—helps him.  You see, I have never delivered a speech that I haven’t written myself. I doubt very much if Mr Whitlam has ever delivered a speech he wrote himself.  I need some research assistance, some background speech notes and this is what [Mr Whitlam’s staff are] doing and that is all [they are] doing.”  When asked his reaction to Mr Gorton’s claim he wrote all his speeches himself, Mr Whitlam (who had spent the campaign lampooning Gorton’s frequent lapses into near incoherency) quipped: “That is one of the few prime ministerial statements of this election that I find credible.”

An artist's ghostly take on an unforgiving woman: Portrait of Lady Violet Bonham Carter (circa 1917), oil on canvas by Sir William Orpen (1878–1931).

It’s not only speeches that are written for politicians to deliver, much of that to which their signatures are appended the work of others including most correspondence and some ghostwriters manage to hone their style to emulate the distinctiveness of those for whom they labor.  Although he once claimed “Oh, I have not read a great deal”, Winston Churchill’s (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) literary output was prodigious, including even one novel (that proved great fun for Freudians interested in mother-son relationships) and yielded the 1953 Nobel Prize in Literature.  His style came to be called “Churchillian” and is recognizable (indeed, even in the 1930s it was thought old-fashioned) but it could also be replicated and, years after his death, it became more widely known his teams of “research assistants” genuinely were responsible for many first drafts and even the authorship of what were at the time described in terms like “rolling Churchillian phrases” but in fairness, in that he was not unique and he did review every word prior to publication, editing and polishing as required.  Sometimes the criticism of such practices can go too far.  When Lord Beaverbrook (Maxwell Aitken, 1879-1964), died, Churchill’s private secretary drafted a short message of condolence to be published in the next edition of The Times: “I am deeply grieved at the loss of my oldest and closest friend who severed his country and his causes valiantly and was the most loyal and devoted of comrades.”  As a message from an old man with not long to live to the memory of his friend of almost 60 years, it seemed not objectionable but an objection came from Lady Violet Bonham Carter, (1887–1969, daughter of Henry Asquith (1852–1928; UK prime minister 1908-1916)) who called the message “clearly political” and thus breaking his silence on such matters, a silence tacitly for some time erected due to his decline.  The secretary smoothed things over with her but she returned to the theme after seeing two messages sent in Churchill's name in support of the Conservative Party on the eve of the 1964 general election.  These she branded “forgeries”.  To this accusation the secretary responded with rather more ferocity, telling her: “I really do not think you should have used the word ‘forgery’ to me.  Sir Winston has had things drafted for him for many years, even when he was prime minister.  If they represent his views, and he signs them, they are not ‘forgeries’.”

C'était ça ou mourir (2026) by Thélyson Orélien.  How the Prix Goncourt's committee rules on this work may prove influential in the future of publishing.

That represents the current view of what's "drafting" rather than "forging" although it may take some time before texts created by generative AI (artificial intelligence) are granted the same approbation, a ghostwriter’s hand still human and, at least for a while, that still matters as one French committee recently concluded, removing from consideration for the 2026 Prix Goncourt (The Goncourt Prize) the novel C'était ça ou mourir (It Was Either That or Die, 2026) by Haitian-born Canadian novelist Thélyson Orélien (b 1988), the concerns being “plagiarism” and “the use of generative AI.”  Although Le prix Goncourt carries a merely symbolic purse of €10, it’s vested with genuine prestige and is associated with a spike in sales so is worth winning.  Monsieur Orélien denies the accusations and the matter is attracting attention because it’s a sign of things to come, literary prize committees among the many institutions that will need to formulate protocols to determine where legitimate use of AI (research, grammar checks, formatting etc) ends and concepts like plagiarism, appropriation and “non-authorship” begins.  It was the English philosopher Gilbert Ryle (1900–1976) who, in The Concept of Mind (1949), when discussing the notion of dualism explored by the French philosopher René Descartes (1596–1650), introduced the phrase “ghost in the machine” and that was better to illustrate for modern readers his critique of the Cartesian position of the mind being distinct from the body with physical and mental activities occurring “simultaneously but separately”.  Mind-body dualism had a long run in Western philosophy and can again be re-considered because we’ve come a long way and with generative AI, the "ghostwriter is now the machine" and these agents clearly have “opinions” so not only are they writing, increasingly, they are “deciding” what to write.  The problems confronting such committees seem insoluble so the fudge may be the creation of new literary prizes for AI generated works and there’s no reason why the committees and juries shouldn’t at least in part be made up of AI agents.

Holy Ghost vs Holy Spirit in Biblical Translation

Pentecostés (Pentecost, circa 1545), oil on canvas by Tiziano Vecelli (or Vecellio), (circa 1489-1576; known in English as Titian), basalica of Santa Maria della Salute, Venice.  The Christian holy day of Pentecost (celebrated 50 days after Easter Sunday) commemorates the descent of the Holy Spirit upon the Apostles and other followers of Jesus Christ while they were in Jerusalem celebrating the Feast of Weeks.

The Trinity is one of Christianity’s central doctrines, the unity of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as three persons in the one Godhead.  One of the most important Christian affirmations about God, it’s rooted in the idea God came to meet Christians in a threefold figure: (1) as Creator, Lord of the history of salvation, Father, and Judge, as revealed in the Old Testament; (2) as the Lord who, in the incarnated figure of Jesus Christ, lived among human beings and was present in their midst as the “Resurrected One”; and (3) as the Holy Spirit, whom they experienced as the helper or intercessor in the power of the new life.  In the Roman Catholic Church, the Sign of the Cross is made in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  It’s a myth that prior to Vatican II (the Second Vatican Council 1962-1965), the Third Person of the Trinity was always referred to in English as the Holy Ghost and one of the council’s decisions was to replace this with Holy Spirit.  Although it’s true Pius XII (1876–1958, pope 1939-1958) authorized several bilingual rites that included Holy Spirit, this was merely procedural and a formalization of processes for the publishing of new editions of existing works. Well before the twentieth century, the shift to Holy Spirit had become almost universal in translation although use of the older form persisted because of the reverence for tradition among some congregations (if not always the clergy) and a fondness, particularly in the Anglican community, for earlier translations, especially the Book of Common Prayer (1549-1622) and the King James version of the Bible (KJV: 1611).

Pentecôte (Pentecost, 1732), oil on canvas by Jean Restout (1692–1768), Louvre Museum, Paris.

The change reflects the evolution of words but, as a matter of Christian theology, "Holy Ghost" and "Holy Spirit" mean exactly the same thing.  The early translators were influenced by ghost being of Germanic origin and, as the Old English gast inherited the original meaning “soul, life, breath, good or bad spirit, angel or demon”, they used gast to translate the Latin Spiritus: thus Holy Ghost.  Although the more modern sense of a disembodied dead person dates from the late fourteenth century, it long remained rare and when translating the Bible into English the scholars behind the KJV opted mostly to use Holy Ghost which enjoys 90 entries compared with seven for Holy Spirit (between translators it's thought there were only linguistic and not doctrinal differences).  Either as literature or theology, there’s nothing in the texts to suggest any difference of meaning between the two, the conclusion of biblical scholars being the choices were wholly arbitrary and probably an unintentional consequence of the KJV being translated from the Greek into English by different committees.  One committee translated hagion pneuma as Holy Spirit while the other preferred Holy Ghost and when the work of the two bodies was combined, the differences remained.  In English, the meaning shift of ghost was induced essentially by its adoption in literature and popular culture, the sense long universally understood to be that of the spectre of a deceased person or a demonic apparition, hardly an association the church found helpful.  It hasn’t wholly been replaced however, some editions of the Book of Common Prayer still are printed with the phrase “He may receive the benefits of absolution, together with ghostly counsel and advice, to the quieting of his conscience.”

Unrelated to etymological matters however, there is one fine theological point about the Trinity.  It took some time for the Patristic Fathers (the early Christian writers of the period generally considered to run from the end of New Testament times or end of the Apostolic Age (circa 100 AD) to either the Council of Chalcedon (451 AD) or the Second Council of Nicaea (787 AD)) to work out the Trinity was three persons, but one God.  The Old Testament foretold the visit to earthly life of the Messiah, but did not name him explicitly as Jesus, seeing the Holy Spirit as a manifestation of God, but did not see Him as a separate person of the one Godhead.  Despite the implications of that, at least since the still influential Saint Augustine of Hippo (354–430), it’s never been an orthodox view the Old Testament should be thought incomplete.  Benedict XVI (1927–2022; pope 2005-2013, pope emeritus 2013-2022), always one to find a fine theological point, noted “Christians do not read the Old Testament for its own sake but always with Christ and through Christ, as a voyage to Truth through continuing Revelation.”

Rolls-Royce and Ghosts, ancient & modern

A century-odd apart: 1902 Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost (left) and Paris Hilton's 2010 Rolls-Royce Ghost (right).

Although for model names Rolls-Royce has borrowed from the atlas (Corniche, Camargue), their most frequent source has been the spirit world (Ghost, Phantom, Wraith,  Spectre) and the Silver Ghost (1906-1926) was the car that cemented the company's reputation for quality.  Sometime during its life, it may well have deserved to be regarded "the best car in the world" and while that term a long ago ceased to be useful, Rolls-Royce have at times justified the tag "best-made cars in the world".  Some might have matched the quality of the fit and finish but it's doubtful many have ever done it better and such was the reputation the Silver Ghost quickly gained that the name (coined by the Autocar magazine and not the factory) overtook the line.  Originally, the Silver Ghost had been but one model in a range available on their standard (40/50 hp) chassis but the name so captured the public imagination that, eventually, the factory relented and when the first of the Phantom line was released in 1926, Silver Ghost for all the 40/50 cars it became.  Perhaps surprisingly, although in the subsequent century there were many uses of the "silver" element (Silver Wraith, Silver Dawn, Silver Cloud, Silver Shadow, Silver Spirit, Silver Spur & Silver Seraph), it wasn't until 2009 the "Ghost" name was revived and (since 2021 in its second generation), it remains in production, the line augmented in 2011 by the Ghost EWB (extended wheelbase).  Plenty of manufacturers have over the years listed LWB (long wheelbase) models but EWB was a genuinely novel abbreviation, the factory not commenting on whether LWB had become "a bit common" or it was just a piece of "product differentiation".      

RAF (Royal Air Force) Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost armored car, Iraq, circa 1936.

The Silver Ghost also had what may seem an improbable career as a military vehicle, the factory eventually building 120 armored cars on the chassis, a role to which it was well-suited because famously it was robust enough to survive the often rough roads throughout the British Empire.  Although the period of intended service on the Western Front during World War I (1914-1918) was shortened when the "war of movement" anticipated upon the outbreak of hostilities quickly gave way to effectively static trench warfare, the machines proved ideally suited to the conditions in the Middle East, the most famous the squadron used by T.E. Lawrence (Lawrence of Arabia; 1888–1935) in battles against Ottoman forces during World War I.  What the British discovered was the tactics the Royal Navy honed at sea for 300-odd years could be applied to motorized operations across vast sandy stretches, detachments of armored cars able to be handled like squadrons of destroyers.  Lawrence remarked the Rolls-Royces were “more valuable than rubies” in desert combat and that he’d be content with one for the rest of his life were it to be supplied with tyres and petrol, the big, heavy Ghosts prone voraciously to chew through both.  In many parts of the empire, numbers of the armoured cars remained in service well into the 1930s (valued especially by the Raj in India) and the last was retired from service with the Irish Free State only in 1944, new tyres having become unobtainable.